This my firs fanfic. Constructive reviews are appreciated. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own The Infernal Devices.

Chapter 1: Your Home

The only thing Magnus Bane hates more than someone stealing his glitter, is someone waking him up. Okay, maybe the former more than the latter. But still.

He looked at the clock and saw that it was 1:30 in the morning. God, he thought, why would anyone knock on my door at a time like this? He decided to ignore it, but the knocker was so persistent. With his feet bare, he made his way to the door, cursing under his breath. "WHO DARES," he shouted in French as he flung the door open, "DISTURB MYــــــ"

He was cut short when he saw her gray eyes, and it was enough for him to know who it was. Tessa Herondale. Standing at his door in Paris at 1:30 a.m.

She looked up at him with vulnerable eyes. She was wearing simple clothes, too simple for someone whose husband was once the head of the London Institute. Then his anger turned into worry. Where was Will? Why was she here in the middle of the night? But after taking one glance at the suitcase in her hand, and then realizing that she was wearing white, the color of mourning for Shadowhunters, he immediately understood.

Before she could say anything, he took her suitcase and said, "Please, come inside."

He lived in a small attic, with a little bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchenette, and a living room with moonlight pouring in through the window. Magnus put Tessa's suitcase next to the wall, then ushered her to sit on the couch, and as she did, he took a good look at her. The first thing he noticed was how young she looked. Nineteen, perhaps twenty or twenty-one, but not older. Nonetheless, he knew that she was more than seventy. And he wasn't surprised, of course; she was immortal, like him.

And she looked exhausted, with dark circles under her gray eyes, like she hadn't slept in days. Her pile of curly brown hair was joined in a careless bun. And she was remarkably thinner than usual, her clothes hanging a little loose at the shoulders.

"Thank you, Magnus," she said in an uncharacteristic small voice, "I was not sure if you would let me in, but I had nowhere else to go."

He blinked at that. "You thought I would not let you in?" he asked, honestly baffled, "Come on, Tessa. You ought to know better. We're friends, are we not?"

Tessa tried to smile, and Magnus remembered that her smile was beautiful and truthful. But this time, it came out wrong. It was sad and vague, like someone talking underwater. And he felt his sympathy leap towards her, for he has never seen her look so devastated, not even when Jem turned into a Silent Brother. Sure enough, that was because Jem was still around, whereas Will was gone. Forever.

"You have certainly proven over the years that you are a good friend," she said. Magnus did not have many friends; he preferred being feared over being loved, but Tessa was different. However, that did not change the fact that he had no idea how to reply to the comment that she made, so instead he asked, "Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, please."

The truth is, Magnus didn't offer tea just out of politeness or awkwardness. He offered it because he needed a minute to think of and process the news.

William Herondale was dead.

Will, with his dark blue eyes and ink black hair; Magnus had always had a weakness for those colors. Will, with his wit and sarcastic comments. Will, who, for five years, pushed away anyone who tried to love him because he believed he was cursed, and Magnus had helped him get rid of that fake curse. Will, who loved his family and his parabatai more fiercely than anyone Magnus knew throughout his life. Will, who was the first Shadowhunter that Magnus ever called a friend, who proved to him that not all the Nephilim treated Downworlders like inferiors. William Herondale, who was dead.

Magnus felt a tear trickle down his cheek. No, he could not cry, especially not in front of Tessa, Will's wife. Widow, he corrected himself. He wiped the tear away, and went back to Tessa. He has never consoled someone before, so he was not really sure what to do or say. He silently poured her some tea, and she was looking blankly at the moon outside.

"I take it you figured out why I am here?" Tessa asked. He nodded, "When did it happen?"

"About six months ago."

"Six months ago? Why was I not informed? And, more importantly, why did you not come here earlier? Do not tell me you feared I would not welcome you."

"I did fear that. But I also had other things to do."

"I see. Just out of curiosity, how did you find my address?"

"Jem gave it to me." She sipped some tea.

For a minute, they were both silent, grieving. Then Tessa set down her cup, having finished it. "I have no idea what to do now, Magnus," she said, and Magnus could tell that she was holding back tears, but she was good at it, "I doubt the Clave would appreciate it if I stayed with them, for I am not a Shadowhunter, not really. And besides, being around them brings back too many memories. And yet, I was trained as Shadowhunter. I only know the basics of magic, so I cannot work as a warlock, either."

Magnus thought about that. It was true, the Clave doesn't like those who have demon blood, and Tessa could not and should not go back to them. She is half-Shadowhunter half-demon. So she is neither a Shadowhunter nor a warlock. She is one of a kind. Magnus made a decision.

"I will teach you," he said. Tessa raised her eyebrows in surprise, "Teach me? Teach me what?"

"Why, magic, of course," he said, "What else? I could teach you tap dancing if you would like, but I doubt that it would benefit you much."

Tessa chuckled, and Magnus was glad for that change. "You know how to tap dance?" she asked.

"There is a lot you do not know about me, darling," he said, smiling, "And when you live for long, you have enough time to learn even the smallest things ــــ It can be fun," he added quickly, after seeing the sad expression return to her face at the mention of living for long.

"But what you really need now," Magnus continued, "is sleep. I can see that you are very tired. You can sleep on the ــــ er…" He thought of the one bed occupying his small room; it wasn't like Tessa would want to sleep on the same bed as him.

"It is alright, I can sleep on the couch," Tessa said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I do not want to be a heavy guest."

"Do not consider yourself a guest, my dear. From now till you are ready, this will be your home."