April 14th
6:30pm
Bombay Family Cottage
Horsham, West Sussex

Exterior
Entry/living room
Dining Room

In the midst of Horsham's most fashionable country cottage, a large cream-colored chair enfolded the surly former professor.  The red buds popped against the massive bundle of hair that stood on end from his constant struggles to not be swallowed into its floral Summerland.  His hands moved quickly, orbiting around a strand of Ravenclaw blue yarn as he darned a pair of socks from last Winter.  He wondered what was happening to his beloved house now.  Surely some flighty fool of a professor had already poached his post.  As long as it wasn't Trishna.  He could stand anyone taking it but Tappy.

And there, never far from his thoughts, or his movements, or even his chronic self-pity, stood his mother.  "Taking all day are you? I've got a gnome's dozen more where that came from.  It's about time you mended your own clothing," she crowed, towering above him with arms crossed.  He scowled, not bothering to respond.  He had learned early on not to engage her in any form of argument.  Inner seething was far more satisfying.  "Of course you were caught in a scandal," she continued, muttering as she walked away, "Can't mend your socks, definitely can't fool the ministry."

The first few days were the worst.  She seemed to bring up his incompetence with every passing moment.  He understood her agitation; most of the wealth left to her by her mother was spent on the right people to keep the entire under wraps.  Except to the people who mattered.  He sighed, thinking briefly of the root of his new-found life. Fie on love.

A knock interrupted his thoughts, and before he could set down the needles his mother flew to the door.  "Who is it?" she yelled crossly, worrying over another reporter or worse--amateur investigator--who noticed a certain amount of suspicious ministry correspondence between the two locations.  "For Merlin's sake, mum, it's probably Hannah.  She said she'd stop by today."  He set aside the sock and pulled himself up from the chair. 

His vulturous mother scowled and moved away, returning to the kitchen.  She was furious about the whole scandal, but even more so when Graham seemed less miserable about the whole thing.  His punishment was her only satisfaction.  For him to have a friend, and one whom she couldn't intimidate or scare away, was maddening. Graham was glad to see her go, although he knew it wouldn't be for long.  As he approached the door, he became aware of a slight smell and realized he hadn't washed his clothing for a couple of days.  At least it was only Hannah. Merlin knew she had handled bodies that smelt far worse.  He opened the door, summoning what little spirit his mother hadn't killed to bring about a smile.

"Hey."

“You smell like an exhumed corpse.” The tiny witch voiced as she stepped into the small cottage beside her brother. She wrinkled her nose and looked him up and down sceptically. Had baths become that bizarre of a prospect to the wizard that he had decided to no longer partake of them and wallow in some bizarre stench instead? It certainly wasn’t pleasant but there was no doubting Hannah had smelt far worse. Fortunately, those stenches had not come from her bizarre half brother.

Once the slight pong steaming off the scruffy looking wizard was put to the back of the young witch’s mind, she folded her arms, eyes shooting up to his face as she analysed his tired features and the hairy beard emerging and overtaking the lower part of his visage.

“So?” Thin, perfectly shaped eyebrows rose expectantly above the frames of the healer’s glasses as her eyes danced between his. “I owl you several times at Hogwarts only to finally receive a response informing me that you’re no longer there. Instead you’re here…” Eyes once more swept over the older wizard’s face and Hannah’s lips pursed tightly in disapproval, “failing to groom. And fumigate yourself.”

Hannah never really acted like it, but she did care for her older brother’s welfare. The two rarely saw each other but he was family, her blood relation. She didn’t spare her parents any mind so the least the healer thought she could do was check up on her father’s son.

"You're no patch of lavender," he responded.  As she stepped in, his mother peeped her head in to ensure it was the said woman.  "Put on the tea, mum," he called, "I told you she'd be by."

"We're out," was all the response he received, along with a loud rattle of cooking pans.  He rolled his eyes, knowing perfectly well they had more tea than they knew what to do with, along with his own gardens steadily producing more. 

He settled his hands on his hips, waiting for his sister's analysis.  Yes, he was dirty.  "Honestly, is it a surprise?"  Leading her into the living room, Graham sat back down in the cream chair, the seat a little less-cream and more a dirty grey.  "And yes, I'm here.  I am no longer employed by Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he announced with a bitter flourish.  "Your brother...," he paused, knowing his mother was full well listening telling herself she should have expected such behavior from her good for nothing son, "is a hardened criminal.  Fear me." 

If it weren't for losing his status,  income, and all possible satisfaction he had earned from his work, he would be smugly enjoying his new title.  Instead he had regressed ten years and was back living with his mom.  It was pathetic.  "So what's new with you?"

Smells were something Hannah noticed she was sensing more clearly. Scents she never picked up before were suddenly standing out, catching her attention while previous scents were stronger, more distinct. She found herself picking up on specific animals, plants, and a lack of hygiene. Before, it wouldn’t have bothered her quite so. Hannah had smelt worse, far worse. But with the recent increased sensitivity of this particular sense, standing in those close proximity to her older brother was proving a little too much and her already pale features grew more ghostly until he moved away and into the bright, inviting living area.

Was it a surprise? Hannah’s lips twisted as she eyed him carefully. “Most individuals manage to maintain an acceptable level of hygiene whilst in unemployment, brother.” She followed him out of the entrance and into the bright room where she ignored the unwelcome noise from the kitchen and instead lowered herself onto the end cushion of the sofa.

"is a hardened criminal.  Fear me."

Before any social responses Hannah had ingrained could react and prevent any strange response, the woman let out a laugh. She placed a hand over her mouth and tried to calm the sensation but it didn’t cease and instead she shook her head, eyeing her scruffy older brother and laughing again.

“What, did you steal a cabbage and go on the run? Or was in a mandrake? Terribly high stakes, there.” Yes, Hannah Bombay had just cracked a joke. And yes, it had been at her sibling’s expense. Things certainly were changing for the young witch.

Yes, yes," he nodded, knowing full well she would laugh at him.  Everyone else did.  Time may have changed several things, but it was rather stubborn when dealing with Graham Bombay.  "When have I ever been considered acceptable, sister?" He replied, full of the disdain his years in Hogwarts had ingrained into his psyche. 


"You've become quite the wit," he remarked, sullen that even his sister treated him as the newest bit of malarkey across the Wizarding tabloids.  He settled back in his chair, cross with himself for inviting her but still attempting to retain some dignity.  "It was for love.  So there."  Eyeing her sharply, he knew she'd even get more of a laugh out of that.  But it was true.  And he hoped there was still enough Bombay present to know he was serious.     

The ludicrousness of the short conversation only continued to astound and amuse Graham Bombay’s younger and apparently far more sensible half sister. From her position on the sofa, Hannah grinned across at her brother, uncharacteristically unable to conceal her emotions.

Fortunately, being around this specific individual, she was perfectly okay to laugh. Her dear brother was only likely to get grumpy with her, nothing more. And when Graham became grumpy, Hannah believed it was more akin a small boy being told he wasn’t allowed anymore chocolate. He sulked and pulled the face that said ‘life isn’t fair’ while in reality, Hannah was quite convinced she had more reason to sulk at present.

A hand covered her mouth as she closed her eyes for a moment trying to control the surprised laughing that Graham had caused. It took a few moments to calm before Hannah finally looked back at her brother and dropped her hand into her lap. “And what, Graham, do you understand of love?” Unfortunately for Graham, the sibling rivalry that hadn’t been present for many years tended to present itself within Hannah when she was around Graham. This meant that she wasn’t about to give him an easy time.

“And loving your mother doesn’t count.” A mildly mischievous gaze was cast in the direction of the kitchen to where Amelia Bombay was undoubtedly eavesdropping and making many, unwarranted judgements about her ex-husband’s daughter. “You’re hardly Casanova, after all. So what did you do to this...love?”

His scowl deepened in direct proportion to his sister's smile.  The laughter was nothing new.  Every one in the entire Wizarding World was enjoying the grand punchline of Graham Bombay.  He hated this more than anything.  Usually he could hide in his greenhouses or find someone he could scare into respecting his authority.  For the first time in his life, Graham could kill for a little first year to terrify.


"Lots," he replied sulkily.  Like it was some private property reserved only for beautiful people.  "Like you know anything about it," he spat back.  She was a Bombay, too.  They were cursed.  "Or is necrophilia legal now?"


He ignored the quip about his mother, he had fought dozens of the same for years.  As if anyone could ever love her.  "I was doing her a favor.  She's a half-blood, but only on parchment.  I was going to fix things so that...you know...it would work."  To him, it still seemed like a grand gesture that would only have been appreciated.