He was glad it was raining for once. After all, with the sky of Porthaven as ominously dark as it could ever be, less people would dare leave their houses, therefore even less people would bother knocking on his door in search for ingredients and various spells. While, for the most part, the items in demand were easy to provide, others, such as invisibility spells, would be extremely time-consuming and require a lot of the wizard's time and effort. Time and effort which he would often wish he could be spending doing something far more pleasurable and not so dull.

Like spoiling his ever so lovely wife, for example.

Oh, the things he would do to be with her instead of sitting on that old wooden stool, barely focusing on the preparation of yet another anti-acne potion for yet another desperate pubescent costumer. Not like she openly complained about his abscence, but still; things between the both of them had been quite difficult since the day he decided to open the shop, and he was aware that he was the only one to blame for that. Putting an end to the business, however, wasn't an option. Not now, at least. It was their only source of income ever since the Cesari's went bankrupt and, if he didn't want to be kicked out of his house yet again, now with a wife and a soon-to-be-born child, the least he could do would be to prepare as many anti-acne potions as he had to and don't ever complain about it.

I can't expect to sleep on a wizard's doorstep and have him be kind enough to lend me a room a second time, Michael Fisher thought miserably, rubbing his eyes and making an inhuman effort not to yawn over the ingredients and ruin the whole mixture. Oh, come on, Michael, he added mentally, lightly shaking a small bottle labeled as "DRY WARTS". It's not time to feel sorry for yourself. He let some of the powder inside of the bottle drop into the vial before him, and the anti-acne potion bubbled in response. It just had to sit for a while, and then it would be finally ready to deliver.

Michael dragged a palm down his face, looking more tired than ever. He figured it was a good time to take a rest and possibly even a well-deserved nap, and that was what he intended to do when he stood up to leave the vial by the window, where it would brew properly, and was surprised by a pale face staring right at him outside of the shop.

In fact, "surprised" would be an understatement.

"What-!" Michael gasped and stepped backward instinctively, startled enough to drop the vial, which broke into a hundred pieces as soon as it hit the floor. He could swear he was about to faint when the apparition reached out and knocked on the window, gesturing impatiently. It took the terrified young man a second or two, but he finally realized, with great incredulity, that it wasn't exactly an apparition.

Michael could read the lips of the impatient person outside saying something among the lines of "let me in, I'm drowning out here," and, obediently as ever, the wizard hurried to the front door and opened it. In a matter of seconds, a man bursted into the house, his fancy green-white-and-blue suit as soaked as the strands of his blonde hair. "Shut the door," he croaked, without throwing Michael a second glance. The young man quickly obeyed, as he had done for most of his life, and when he turned to face the unexpected visitor again, the other man was still soaked - for his great surprise.

"Howl," Michael hesitated. "Won't you dry yourself...?"

The answer came as a growl and Wizard Howl collapsed onto an armchair nearby, staring at the opposite wall with such a pissed look that anybody could swear it had offended him.

Michael was quite sure he had never seen Howl looking that way before.

"What happened? What brought you here? I thought you and Sophie were in..."

Another growl, and Howl waved a hand impatiently, making Michael immediately shut up. He didn't have to use any magic for that; Michael himself knew very well how to behave when facing his old tutor's wrath.

"What happened? Nothing happened. What makes you think something happened? I'm as fine as I can be. Just passing by."

"In this rain?"

Howl ignored him. "Figured I should say hello to some good old friends I haven't seen in a while. I also heard Martha is pregnant. My congratulations."

"Ah, thank you," Michael said, and proceeded to stand there awkwardly for several seconds. "Did something happen?"

Howl growled a third time. "I told you! Nothing happened!" And then Michael knew something had happened.

"Well..." He looked around anxiously. "Where's Sophie?"

The answer, this time, came as a particularly weird look from Howl: nervous, guilty and angry, all at once. Michael seemed even more puzzled for a moment, but then it all made perfect sense to him.

"Did something happen to Sophie? Where is she?"

Howl muttered something, glancing at his wet shoes.

"Howl?"

"She is gone," Howl muttered a bit louder.

"What?"

"I said she is gone."

"Gone?" Michael frowned. "Gone? What do you mean, gone?"

"I mean gone!" Howl was no longer muttering; his voice was perfectly loud and way too clear when he angrily stood up out of a sudden, making the frightened Michael back away immediately. "Gone! Gone, Michael, fancy an undeafening spell? A dictionary, maybe? Gone! She is gone! Sophie is gone! Gone, in which she left me for good! She - left me - for - good!" The thunders outside seemed to match Howl's words. Michael stared with wide eyes, and, while he was terrified of his old tutor's anger then, he became even more terrified when such anger was slowly replaced by low sobs and Howl buried his face in his own pale hands.

"She is gone," the older wizard's voice was weak and stifled by sobs. "She is gone, Michael!" He took a loud deep breath, so deep that Michael had the impression he was swallowing every bit of air there was in the room, and burst into tears. Michael feared he was going to burst into green slime anytime soon.

"Let's... get you some water," he gave Howl light and hesitant pats on the back, leading the miserable man upstairs. The whole house seemed to shake with each one of his sobs. "It's okay, it's okay..."

"It's not okay!" Howl suddenly shouted, startling Michael. "My wife leaves me and you say it's okay? Please, Michael! The pieces of my broken heart would be enough to fill ten bottles with Broken-Heart Powder! And you say it's okay? It's not okay in the slightest!"

"Oh, well, yes, okay, I mean, no, it's not okay," Michael tried to amend, and cringed when Howl threw him an irritated glance. "But it will be! Listen, let's just get you some water, alright?"

Now, I wasn't expecting this, Michael thought. He hadn't seen the man looking that miserable ever since the day Sophie completely ruined his hair, and that had been a day to remember. He was dying to ask Howl what he had done this time, but his common sense told him it would be the most indelicate thing to do in such situation. It would inevitably lead to him spending the rest of the day cleaning green slime off the walls and floor.

But Howl certainly must have done something really bad this time. Michael knew it was true; although Sophie always had something to complain about her husband's behavior, she seemed to be far more tolerant than anybody else could ever be, at least to an extent.

Howl certainly must have gone too far this time.