Timothy

I opened the screen of my phone one more time.

Exactly two minutes had passed since last I had checked. The evening practice wouldn't end for another twenty. I tried smoothing some of the shattered edges of the screen. For my effort, a small corner shard came loose and dropped to the floor.

"Are you in a hurry somewhere?"

I lifted my face to Clover's peering eyes.

"I... Ermm... I promised Valentina I would meet with her after the evening practice ends."

"After she has had her share of violence for the day. Clever." The comment came from Lavender. She had set down the laptop's cover and was watching me.

She and Clover exchanged a look. Clover blushed.

For a moment I felt puzzled.

"Ah," I said when I realized, my own face coloring by what hadn't been said. "I... I know she's gay. I'm not... We just... Stop laughing this instant!"

They were both giggling like teens. I felt my own stern look melting under the pressure.

"I actually promised to talk to a common friend, be there to see if we can't smooth out our differences. All three of us."

Clover sobered suddenly. "You said you knew Blizzard?"

I nodded uneasily, aware that she, being a witch with the glasses she had, must have known what the man was.

"Do you want back up?" She offered. And by the offer took me unawares.

For a moment I was struck numb. I could only stare in amazement at the green haired witch. She smiled.

"Um. No... No... I will be fine. I hope. We really, honestly, were friends for a time." Then I added, speaking straight to her green eyes: "But, thank you. It means a lot to me that you offered."

"Who's this Blizzard you guys are making such a number about?"

We turned to Lavender.

"He is a brute."

"He is a bit weird."

We looked at each other with Clover. Both frowning.

"That's harsh," I said. "He is truly nice, actually. Most of the time. We just fell off. It is a simple misunderstanding. Do you even know him?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I know his kind."

I exchanged a look with Lavender to let her know I thought exactly the same of that kind of a comment. Even when I knew well what Clover actually meant. The sentiment was even, kind of, justified.

"Well," I said. "I cannot really say that wouldn't be an argument. But, I am now really going to go and try to save what little is salvageable of our friendship. I hope there is something left there."

 For Valentina's sake at least.

I took my bag from the canteen table. It was hours past lunch time, and there were few people left eating, though the canteen wouldn't close before eight p.m.  The tables had been overtaken by laptops, tablets, notebooks and paper cups of coffee.

"I'll come see you off," Lavender said, also rising. She let her bag and other possessions scattered on and around the table and saw me out into the rain. I had an umbrella I held over both our heads as we walked down the street toward the gym building.

"Listen," she said. "I don't really know anything about this Blizzard guy. Or what he is involved in. But Clover is just clearly worried..."

"I know," I said, interrupting her. 

We stopped under the overhang of the gym door.

"I know. And Blizzard is hardly an easy person to like once you do get to know him. I am even a bit afraid myself." I smiled at her.

Lavender smiled back.

The smile froze.

"Lavender?"

It went slack. Blue eyes glassed over.

I put a hand onto her upper arm to steady her. But she didn't even sway.

Her gaze focused suddenly and found mine with a sharp, clear intensity. A ghost of a smile found its way back to her expression.

"I am sorry," she said. Her voice surprisingly low. "I haven't slept well."

"Okay... Right. Are you sure you are fine to go back?"

She nodded.

And was about to step into the rain, when I felt it. Her aura. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something off. She wasn't herself.

I reached to stop her and laid a hand on her arm again, this time to hold her still.

She paused, and turned to me, with a challengingly raised eyebrows.

"Mmm?"

And I was suddenly one hundred percent sure she wasn't my friend in that moment.

"What are you?" I asked before I could call back the common sense.

Lavender smiled. But the smile was ghostly. It wasn't her smile, the tiny muscles in her face stretched in an odd manner. The other in her wasn't clearly accustomed to the young feminine measures.

She didn't answer, just shook her sleeve free.

"The question, my friend, is what are you? I'll see you around, won't I? Surely I will. We seem to be close. We can still be close, you know. You and me."

"It's your choice," the being that had been Lavender said in a voice that was slowly rising and finding a more comfortable tone. She stepped into the rain. Drawing her hand easily from my grip with a practiced twist that I was sure Lavender herself couldn't have executed.

I didn't know what to do.

She didn't run, or even go far. Lavender's small form simply stood in the rain, watching me hesitate, one hand on the door.

Valentina needed me. I needed to sort my problems with Blizzard.

But Lavender was also my friend. This thing in front of me had a hold of my friend.

It looked at me and smiled a compassionate smile that didn't look that alien anymore.

"I can see you have somewhere urgent to be," it said.

"But don't worry, let me make this a bit easier for you," it continued. "I'm not going anywhere, neither is Lavender. If what is behind that door is acute, and needs your attention just today, I suggest you dash in. This," Lavender gestured at herself. "This is chronic. And you fascinate me. We will surely meet soon again. What's your name?"

"Timothy. I'm called Timothy." I answered. "What's yours?"

It ignored my question, tasting the name instead, "Timothy. A grass. I like cat's tales. Until later, Timothy. Stay safe."

It leaned under the overhang to kiss my cheek. I felt a tingle, not unlike goosebumps, traveling all the way down my spine.

Then Lavender stepped carefully back into the rain. She stood there a moment more, inviting me to have a change of heart. I was still welcomed to chase the mystery.

I did not swallow the bait, but flung the door open and went inside.

Downstairs I was almost waylaid by the next door through which I tried entering.

"Oh, So sorry!"

I waved the boy off with a muttered "...Nothing..." And used the already open door...

To stand and wait for other three people to come out and head toward the showers.

Between the third and fourth out-comer I slipped into the dojo area dominated by the canary yellow mattress.

Three people still stood in the middle of the tatami. I didn't know who the other tall man was. He and a man I did know where obviously still trying out a throw, for in the next moment the stranger had flung Blizzard's impressive form over his back and onto the mattress. Blizzard could hardly control his body with the angle he had been thrown, simply slam a hand against the floor to break at least a bit of the fall.

Or maybe he slammed it to mask the fact that he himself wasn't causing a thud worthy of his frame.

While they were at it, Valentina noticed me standing at the edge. I waved at her a bit. Her face split into a smile as she came over.

"For a moment there I thought you wouldn't make it. I thought of ways to delay Blizzard, but then Raul came to do it for me," she gestured at the pair practicing behind her.

I took my shoes off and laid the closed umbrella against the shoe shelf. "I came with Lavender. We exchanged maybe a word or two more than I had in my precise time calculations."

I looked past her shoulder.

And found the vampire's gaze to meet mine. Or at least the dark lenses of contacts met my gray irises.

Blizzard simply stared. His ginger hair falling in an unruly curly mass to shoulders framing the slightly open mouth.

He didn't take his eyes off me as he parted with his partner. This Raul took his bag from where it lay and came past me and Valentina, as I in turn stepped over onto the actual area reserved for practice... Or fight.

"Hi, Blizzard."

"By all that is holy," he said. Blizzard's voice was low, melodic. Pleasant, as it had always been, for at least a couple hundred years as I had it understood. "I thought you had left town. What have you done?" He gestured to my human body.

I came way more than a head short. But it cost nothing for him to crouch to my level, as if I were still a pupil at his school. A high-school kid with his substitute teacher for the winter period.

He took hold of my shoulder. I didn't try to wrench free. I had disappeared. And there was nothing I could do against the vampire's strength. I would simply get my shoulder dislocated.

"I hoped we could talk," I told him.

"I go now!"

All three of us turned to the door. Raul waved at us. I found a polite smile as Blizzard waved and Valentina called a "See you on Friday!"

"Close the curtains," was what Blizzard said next.

Alarmed, I turned to my captor.

"How about just a nice verbal..."

The vampire twisted my arm suddenly forcing me to drop onto my knees. The gesture, while efficient, wasn't meaninglessly brutal, just careless.

"No, really," I was saying as he still, slowly forced my palm up, towards him. He had a slight frown on his face as if he were studying a stain on a piece of cloth and didn't really know what it was.

"I insist," he said. "Surely you understand?"

I knelt still. I, the human, at his feet. My heart thundered almost painfully against my own eardrums.

We stared at each other. I could clearly make out the round edges of his contacts. He was big. A huge muscular humanoid form looming over me. Perfectly still. Perfectly balanced features. I didn't give in to the temptation to look at the mirrors and away from him. He was my friend. My pulse was high. But he was my friend. I anchored my thoughts around that conviction and held his gaze, my neck at an angle, my face turned up, my heart beating a shrill unsteady rhythm.

He was my friend. He would listen when I said no.

"What's going on, the two of you?"

A bit reluctantly I broke off the spell and turned my head to see Valentina, who had a puzzled look on her face. The curtain behind her was closed so no casual passerby headed to the showers could see us through the glass door. She had come close and had both her arms raised, as if she meant to grab Blizzard, maybe after a well aimed kick.

"Sit, Valentina, please," Blizzard whispered. I hardly even heard the soft exhaled command. And my ear was alarmingly close to his lips. I could feel the disturbed air.

Valentina dropped hesitantly into a cross-legged sitting position onto the floor.

As my gaze was turned, I simply felt the sharp sudden pain biting into my palm.

I cried out and drew free. Pressing the spot where he had dug in a nail. Blizzard lifted a bloody thumb to his mouth and tasted.

I pressed the wound, both physical and mental. Blizzard's face was thoughtful.

A surprised look crossed his features.

He met my gaze. Shook his head.

It was my turn to frown.

"Can't link you. You bleed like a human. Taste like a human. But I can't form a link."

I pressed the bleeding hand. My left hand, the one I wrote with. And Blizzard knew I was left handed. Stung.

"So, you can't fix this?" I confirmed lifting the bleeding hand.

Blizzard shook his head. "There is something between us. I'd wager a charm of some kind. It is a charm, isn't it. And not that you haven't been..."

"Gods! No! What? After I did gain my humanity back, you think I offer my will to some random passing by vampire?!" I was almost outraged by the mere idea. "It's my will. My body. And I intend to keep it this time."

"I've been avoiding everyone like the plague," I admitted. "I haven't... I don't know how to ever see Mo."

I looked at my hand. Despite my best efforts, a narrow trail of blood was starting to approach a sleeve.

"I think I need some paper. Valentina, can I use the first aid kit?"

As I shifted my head to look at her sitting by the side, I realized suddenly that she was indeed still sitting there. Valentina hadn't moved or said anything. And now, on her face played an expression of horrified shock.

"I'll, ermm... Help myself."

"Let me."

I nodded to Blizzard. "Could you... Release her while you are at it?"

"I'm not holding her." With that Blizzard went to where there was an assortment of weights and cushions with a first aid kit. "What do I need her for? You interest me far more right now."

I crouched by Valentina. She eyed my bleeding hand warily. And probably not because it could stain the floor.

"I don't understand," she said slowly.

"I know. Me neither." Blizzard sat with us onto the yellow floor. "I don't understand a thing. How, Timothy, how? Just, how?" 

He didn't ask why.

He took some paper towels and a bottle. And held a hand to me expectantly. I gave my warm and delicate human fingers to his huge lukewarm ones. The disinfection stung. I grimaced.

"It's a bit of a long story." I sighed. "And I didn't come to explain it today."

"Why are you here then?" Blizzard dried my hand and wrist with the paper towels and pressed then my palm with one towel as I had done moments ago with only my other hand.

"Valentina's a friend," I said silently. "And she is confused. Why... I get that you must feed. But why the mark? She obviously isn't into this. She isn't... Mo's. Not heart or soul or even a hair. Just why?"

Blizzard finally looked at the young woman sitting with us. The frown was still there.

"She has made unfortunate friends. And... When I... I saw fit to declare her as Mo's instead. So the witches won't reach to her once they realize a claim has been made for her soul and will. Not the heart maybe, but the will."

He looked at her as he would an inconvenient dog he didn't really want to own.

Valentina saw that too. She saw this man that wasn't putting on an act for her, who talked over her head to me. A man who claimed ownership over her.

I could see the suddenly kindled rage in her eyes.

"I don't understand what sick game you two are playing here," she said rising. "But I want nothing to do with it. And definitely won't be a pawn to it."

She stood.

Blizzard sighed. He had obviously changed his mind over not needing Valentina in the room.

This time I could see the trembled struggle. Valentina didn't want to sit. She was sure of it. But Blizzard wanted her to sit. 

She swayed.

I looked away.

Blizzard was removing his contacts to reveal two dark red irises beneath. At the same moment he must have dropped all other efforts he was making to appear mortal for I suddenly saw my own reflection in the mirror wall I was facing. And, more importantly, I could see I couldn't see Blizzard. Instead my vision was clear to witness Valentina drop back onto the mattress behind the spot where Blizzard should have been reflected. Her eyes were closed. She looked sick.

"Are you okay?" I asked her turning from the mirrors.

"No. No I am not." She opened her eyes to stare at Blizzard looking at her.

"I am sorry Valentina, but I feel like you shouldn't go quite yet."

I felt my own hackle rising. A small shiver traveled through me. I could really have been either of them. And had been both. A vampire's power over the one taken was almost absolute. At least if you didn't have training. As long as Blizzard maintained the link he had wrought in taking her blood, he would have the ultimate say as to what Valentina did. Not what she thought per se. But what her body did and which words her lips formed.

And instinctively the prey knew it. Valentina knew she had an owner. The hate in her eyes burned hot and searing.

I lowered my eyes to the bandaged palm. Blizzard had tried to take my will. I knew it.

But I also knew he had tried it only to have the power to heal the wound.

And with the little amount he had taken that bond could have lasted maybe an hour or two if he wouldn't have renewed it.

And I was equally sure Blizzard knew that I was aware of it, that I wouldn't be too angry for the trespass. He also knew that I knew every way of exploiting the said bond from the other end. It wasn't as strictly one way as it seemed. If you just remembered you had it. I could have made the day a living hell for him.

Why hadn't he succeeded in the first place though? To my knowledge, I didn't carry a charm, nothing to protect me from a vampire takeover.

"You are not human, are you?"

Valentina's voice shook me back to more pressing problems. She was looking at the dark wine colored eyes in front of her.

Blizzard shook his head. "No. I claim to be a vampire." He said it slowly, with a clear awareness of the apparent ridiculousness of the claim.

Valentina's eyes flickered to my hand. The implication didn't escape her.

"Right this moment I feel inclined to believe that outrageous claim. What does that make of me though? Shall I turn after the third time you feed on me, or something?"

He shook his head. "No. I just partake in your life energy. I need it to function and think clearly. There are twelve others in your condition that I have tied to myself by taking some of their blood inside me. I took maybe half a liter, in case you are interested. Most of it is stored in a stash that will last for half a year. So don't worry, I won't do any sort of feeding for some time. Not directly on you at least."

"Instead you are simply leeching on her energy for some time," I added talking to the ceiling.

"Yes. And she'll sleep it off, eventually," Blizzard said calmly, though there was a tense note to the tone. "It's not that I had that many awesome options either." He continued. "Or would you have given her to Plume? Because he was the only other who generosly offered."

That shook me. I looked at him appalled at the mere idea, the face of said dark haired vampire swimming to memory.

"I thought Plume didn't take links."

The vampire lifted an arched eyebrow. "Indeed."

"You are doing it again. I am still here!"

"Oh, sorry." I turned my gaze to Valentina. I tried an apologetic smile on my face, but it didn't feel natural.

"I am actually quite mad at Blizzard for you," I confessed.

"So you knew he is a vampire?"

I nodded.

"Interesting." Valentina leaned back to lay on the hard, matress flooring beneath us. "Because I still feel like I just might think all this a dream the next morning. It kind of violates my world view."

"Yes... Well... about that," I started. "You probably won't remember a word we exchange now, next morning."

Valentina lifted her face to stare at me. "What?!"

"Until you accept magic as a permanent part of your worldview, you can't really remember any of it," Blizzard said. "That is the reason why you can't really remember that I took you to a vampire filled warehouse and pumped half a litter of blood out of you and our queen tattooed you."

She lifted herself to rest on her elbows. Her mouth hang open.

"That's actually probably also part of the reason why we talk so naturally over your head." I sighed. Then reluctantly added, "Because in a way, this is really a meeting between just the two of us. When Blizzard leaves us, your memory becomes clean. You won't remember he is a vampire, or that your will is tied to his. This conversation wouldn't never had happened if he hadn't branded you..."

My memory tugged at the importance of that.

"I am still not clear on why that happened, come to think of it. You said she had some important friend or something?"

Blizzard nodded. "Her current name is Lavender Ponderer. She needs to be protected of witches, at all costs."

I knew he knew my heart had skipped a beat at the name.

The vampire's face didn't alter. In vain, I tried reading his emotions from the empty silent and impenetrable vampiric aura surrounding the man. And at the same time breathe calmly to settle my own disturbed presence.

"She is possessed, isn't she?" I guessed. "And Mo wishes for the demon to take over. The witches would stop that."

"It's not that simple," Blizzard said slowly.

"Isn't it?" I felt more that a bit angry. I had known the girl for a few weeks, yet the idea of her being swept away by some random demon was unthinkably gross. "Must be some important spirit she has." I knew my voice had gone cold. I had fallen to old habit of treating Blizzard as a friend, someone who should take my feelings into consideration.

Blizzard shook his head. "You don't have the details. She cannot be cured, if you think that. The witches will kill her, if they find out exactly who she is becoming."

A silence fell. Even Valentina kept silent, probably once more trying to gather the threads of the talk.

"I will tell Mo of this," Blizzard finally announced. "That you are human. That you are back. That you know Lavender."

"You mean I need to be controlled too?" I asked, warningly.

Blizzard lifted a hand to his forehead. "I don't know. That is why I need to trouble the Queen. It is really her decision."

He stood.

"I am so sorry Timothy." I thought I heard honest sympathy in his voice.

Then he was gone. Not in a great puff of smoke, or a sudden movement, just gone. I blinked.

Valentina's flashes fluttered.

I watched the confusion furrow her brow. I could visibly see she was loosing the time and place.

"Sorry, what did you just say?" She asked. "I totally spaced out."

"Nothing that important." I felt sour.

I stood.

"Shall we go home?" I extended a hand down for her.

"Sounds good."

As I walked her to metro under the canopy of a huge umbrella, I watched some small spirits dancing in the downpour. They weren't clear lined and vivid as vampires and other magic, just shadowed forms intertwining through the rain. I smelled the rain and approaching cool days.

In the metro tunnel there was a small stand, a tiny niche in the tunnel wall where a witch sold steaming warm ice creams.

I stopped Valentina.

"I am so sorry. There is so little I can do for you. But I can force you at least to face all the corners you are ignoring. Let me buy you an ice cream."

And I did. I was happy the vendor accepted the human euros I gave her. But I would have bought even had she traded in favors. The delighted surprise on Valentina's face was a marvel to watch.

"I'll make a cheddar of your memory," I promised her. "You will remember. I'll force you."

But I needed help. This wasn't a one man mission. Especially if I wouldn't be around. If my actions would be controlled.

Clover

I waited more than an hour for Lavender to come back for her stuff. When she didn't, I packed them up and left the building, carrying two bags and a heavy heart. Outside rain fell in curtains. I pushed my hood up. The jacket was one of those little trinkets father gave every now and then. It had been his. But the rain did little to him these days. So now it protected me.

Uncle Aconite had an office in the University's Main Building. In the downstairs. He mostly gave occult classes offered only for the witches of the university but was also the official head of Folklore studies. How he managed everything no one knew. Especially since he seemed to always have time for his little unfortunate niece.

Lavender's bag was dragging my shoulder down. I needed to face Aconite and ask what he knew of the subject. Clearly the demon was gaining power. And not weakening, despite all the incantations and talismans I had passed on to Lavender. And why hadn't Aconite told grandma about the demon? Was Lavender's case so insignificant it had slipped his mind?

Even as he had asked me to keep him updated just last week.

I was confused. And wanted to ask my uncle what was the case.

I came to stand in front of the simple wood door that had the name Aconite Shatter Hat visible in a printed slip of paper held in a plastic container where it would be easy to change. I lifted my hand to knock.

My phone rang.

The sound made me jump. No one ever called me.

I withdrew a few steps down the corridor and fished out the little machine from a bag. It really was my bag, and not even Lavender's. I thought she had taken her phone with her anyway.

Incredulously, I stared at the caller's name.

What could Timothy want with me that it couldn't wait until tomorrow's study gathering?

Had the vampire done something more than talking?

I picked up.

"Hi?" I called uncertainly.

"Clover? Do you have a moment?" Timothy's voice felt alien filtered by the little machine.

I glanced at the office door. It wouldn't go anywhere. But the case was kind of urgent.

"If it is important," I gave in.

"It is."

A silence followed. I walked father from the door and sat on a couch in the corridor.

"I would talk about this tomorrow, but I am not sure I will make it to the university..." He paused. "I... I think I accidentally stumbled upon information that..." He paused again.

"Now this is ridiculous." He laughed.

"You are a witch aren't you?" He asked then.

The question took me unawares.

"A witch?" I stuttered.

"Yes." Timothy's voice was steady as if he asked those questions every day. "Are you?"

I felt my cheeks coloring. I had wanted to ask Timothy so many times plainly if he were a witch himself, since his interest in my glasses was uncanny. And sometimes I could have sworn I saw his gaze follow a passing spirit, even when I could hardly make out a shimmer in the air when I truly focused.

And then there was the Blizzard case. Of course a human man could have just made unfortunate acquaintances. But the way Timothy talked about him implied he knew Blizzard. Knew the monster.

Or had that been the misunderstanding? Had Timothy seen the vampire and ran? But why would he had come back to talk to him then? Because of Valentina's martial arts club?

"Clover? You still there?"

I startled out of my reverie.

"I am not a good witch at least," I said without thinking. Then realized how that sounded and quickly added: "I don't mean I do black magic!"

Timothy laughed. "I am really not the one to judge even if you did."

That picked my interest: "Have you practiced?"

He laughed again, a happy, slightly shocked sound.

"I have participated in quite the ritual, but am not a witch, my blood runs beautiful human red. I am quite absolutely incapable of doing any type of magic."

Then he added, sobering: "But I can remember. And it would be extremely important for a common friend to clear out her memory as well. Which is the reason I called."

"Ah. You have noticed as well," I sighed. "I am actually trying to sort it all out..."

Before I could continue and properly open up about Lavender's extremely persistent demon, Aconite's door opened. Laughter and light spilled through the open door into the silent corridor.

"Oh, get lost!" My uncle was clearly laughing and didn't mean to insult the other party holding the door.

"Oh, I will. For a time. Let professor Scale Tongue... Let her know she has friends, won't you?"

"Of course. Don't worry about it." Aconite's voice was warm.

"Thank you."

The man closed the door.

"Clover?" Timothy asked in the phone.

At the sound the man turned as if he had heard Timothy. He stared straight at me. And suddenly my pulse jumped. The eyes were dark, black as the man's short hair. A slight green tone of his skin was unnaturally pale, almost nonexistent. He seemed colorless. And I could clearly see a shimmering light reflecting around his lean form. My glasses amplified the unnatural halo, almost covering the fact that the man lacked a shadow.

Before I could tell Timothy I was in the corridor with a vampire, it was upon me. I found myself staring into black eyes that were inches from my own. I saw the clear edge of contacts.

"Are you, by any chance, on phone with one Timothy White Torch?" Its tone was light, conversational.

"Who's there with you?" Timothy's voice asked in my ear.

"Close the phone," the vampire commanded, still in that casual tone.

"What's going on?" Timothy's voice was full of alarm.

I was frozen. I knew, I prayed, he couldn't touch me. My father was extremely good with charms. The vampire couldn't touch me, couldn't touch, couldn't...

It leaned forward, close to the phone against my ear.

"Timothy, dear uncle mine, close the phone. I will be there soon enough. For now, you are not allowed any phone time."

"Damnit," was all Timothy said.

The line went dead.

The vampire straightened up. It looked at me.

"You can go see your uncle now, if you want. He isn't occupied anymore."

As I still sat frozen, it shrugged. And walked away, perfect human pace.

I blinked.

A raven hopped along the tiled floor.

The dark bird had long since flown away, when I found my breath again. Just a bit trembling, I picked up both bags and started walking. I didn't stop by my uncle's door, but went straight out into the darkening evening.

For a while I stood indecisive outside the university building on the gray parking lot, unwilling to move.

What was going on? I couldn't understand anything.

Maybe I should have still gone back and demanded Aconite to explain why he was clearly friends with a vampire. And why he was keeping Lavender's condition to himself.

And what had Timothy found out? What had he tried to tell me? Had it been something concerning Lavender? Clearly he had gotten into trouble with the vampires.

"Clover? Are you quite all right?"

I lifted my head. For a split second my heart stopped again at seeing a dark haired lean figure. But I soon noticed she had gray mixed in with her charcoal hair and a maze of little wrinkles starting at the corners of her dark eyes.

"Professor Scale Tongue," I greeted her. "You startled me."

She smiled. Scale Tongue was the head of French Philology, which was my major. She had directed my bachelor's work and master's thesis and was a lovely, if a bit eccentric, lady. She insisted in starting every lecture at eight in the morning but offered tea and cookies for those that showed up.

"Going home?" She asked.

I nodded.

"Want a lift?" She gestured at a small Citroen behind us.

"Oh! I live at the other side of the city..."

She shook her head. "I am not in a hurry anywhere. I can drive you all the way to the far edge of Casabassa if that's where you are headed."

A warm gratefulness filled my heart.

"It might not be much. One lift. But it is more than just walking past when a student feels low."

She opened the passenger door for me. I hopped in.

I told her my home address. She fed it into a navigator.

She didn't ask what it was that had made me stand desolate in the downpour. Instead, she told me of her new paper about to get published in the Atlantean Language and What Makes It. I was aware that many words in my native tongue were originally borrowed from French. Apparently for that reason, it was a popular language of study among the young these days. Which in turn had made it a common language to borrow words from for the capital slang. And so French kept layering the language and intermingling in it, in both old and new expressions. I hadn't really thought about that.

And oddly enough, the moment of normal university chit chat of a paper that threatened no one's life seemed to be exactly the respite I needed.

I felt almost recovered from the evening when I thanked professor Scale Tongue once more and made my way up to the fourth floor and home.

Where in no time I found myself elbow deep in soap water washing dishes.

I hoped Timothy made it to the university the next day. But doubted it. My suspicions were based on what the vampire had said about finding Timothy where ever he was.

I hoped he would live to tell me one day what all was about.

I hoped Lavender would find her way home for the night.

And I hoped a night's sleep would give me some clarity on what to do about any of these cases.