Big thanks go to Beth for encouraging this piece, and giving me support as I ventured into writing for a new fandom.
Diana tightened the elastic around her ponytail before she took a step back and smoothed a hand down her shirt. To say that she was nervous was an understatement. When she'd first filled in the application for Oxford university, she'd honestly never expected to get the place.
She gave her reflection a confident nod before turning to grab the bag she'd packed the night before, from its place sat on one of the chairs at her small table, and looped it over her shoulder. Unusually for England, it appeared to be a rather nice day, but Diana had seen enough to know that the weather could turn at any moment. So she made sure to snag a light jacket before she headed from her rooms, and out of her college.
While she was nervous for her first day at the infamous university, Diana was also eager to get stuck into her course. Oxford had some of the very best historians in the world, and their manuscript collection in the many libraries around the city was unrivalled. Her passion for history had developed after spending a summer studying in England, learning about the exploits of kings and queens as she explored the city. Now that she was getting the opportunity to study for a graduate degree from Oxford on the history of science, Diana knew that her love for the subject would only continue to grow.
After all, who didn't want to learn history at the oldest surviving university in the English-speaking world?
With her nerves carefully contained, Diana made her way through the old buildings and towards the location she'd been given for her very first lecture of the year, taking in the awe-inspiring archeology that made up the many different colleges that belonged to the university. Everything about her time spent in England so far had been completely different to her time spent at college in Maine.
Diana had completely fallen in love with the country, and all it had to offer her.
While her first lecture was more of a welcoming introduction to her course than it was educational, Diana still found every word of it fascinating. She was a little surprised to learn just how small her tutorial classes would be, but not at all surprised by the expected workload that had a few of her fellow students groaning. Diana had known that she would spend the majority of her time in the library, working on research papers and essays that were expected of her.
But that didn't stop her from accepting the invite from a few of her peers, to head to the pub for lunch when they were finally released ninety minutes later. While she'd always thought of herself as being somewhat of a loner at times, preferring her own company to those around her, Diana was looking forward to getting to know others who shared her passion for history.
So after sending a quick text to Sarah, to let her aunt know that her first official day was going well, Diana followed Gillian Chamberlain through the bustling streets of Oxford, to one of the pubs that the student body liked to frequent, thanks to the much cheaper prices it had a reputation for charging.
"Where are you originally from?" Gillian asked, as Diana dropped down into a seat beside her new friend, with a pint of beer in hand.
"Madison, originally. It's a tiny little village in upstate New York."
"Moving to Oxford must have been a shock for you," her friend chuckled, sipping at a small glass of wine.
"Just a bit. The college I went to in Maine helped, but I still can't quite get my head around knowing that our tiny little village has about as many residents as halfof New College does. That's crazy."
"Well… if you ever need someone to show you around, I'd be happy to do so," Gillian offered. "I did my undergrad here at Oxford, and I grew up just outside of the city. So I know the area well."
"Thank you. I will definitely take you up on that," Diana promised her, before she turned her attention to the guy at the end of the table, who was calling her name.
Diana's first week at Oxford passed by in a flurry of activity.
When she wasn't attending lectures or tutorials she found herself spending time in the library, acquainting herself with the layout of the building, and the process of checking out the books that she needed.
And when she wasn't at the library, she could usually be found at the boathouse.
Diana had taken up rowing during her first year of college, at a time where she'd genuinely started to believe that she might be going insane. The stress of moving away from home, and attending school in such a large city, had left her feeling off balance. She'd become depressed and withdrawn, locking herself away in her room for days on end, and only ever venturing out for lectures or class. It had gotten to the point where Diana had been convinced that she was making strange things happen around herself, as a result of her isolation.
And that was when she knew that she needed help.
After talking to one of the guidance counsellors the school had on campus, and leaving out the stranger parts of her tale, he had suggested that she should consider finding a hobby away from academia, to help her destress. It hadn't taken long for her to fall in love with rowing. It was something she could do alone, at virtually any time of the day. And the rhythmic motions needed to propel herself across the water were more calming than the yoga she'd also taken up.
While Diana knew that she wasn't anywhere near the standard required to join the teams that took part in the infamous boat race every year, on the Thames, she'd been welcomed into the rowing club with open arms. As a result of that, she'd spent virtually every week night at the boathouse since then.
Her second week was even busier than the first, with her lecturers and tutors diving straight into the curriculum, and setting their first series of assignments for the year. Which was how Diana found herself declining an invitation to join her friends Friday afternoon for drinks, at the same pub they'd all been to during the first week of term, and instead, heading for the legendary Bodleian Library.
Since her arrival in the city, she'd only ever stepped foot inside of the building twice. But each and every time it had never failed to leave her breathless for those first few moments. The building wasn't just big and imposing, it was architecturally beautiful, and unlike anything that she'd ever seen in Maine.
Diana wasn't ashamed to admit that she'd lost many hours stood outside of the building, just admiring the design. But that afternoon, as she fished her university ID from her bag, it wasn't the brickwork that caught her attention.
"Dad?"
The man walking across the courtyard looked eerily similar to the images of Stephen Procter that Diana had taken with her, when she'd left Madison. He looked just like the pictures of him that hung on the walls of her aunt's home. And like the memories of the man she'd kept tucked safely away inside of her mind, since the day she'd last seen him.
"Dad!" she called out a little louder, as she hurried in his direction.
A group of undergrads were making their way through the courtyard from the opposite direction, and Diana was a little ashamed of the way she shouldered through the students, as she rushed after the man that appeared to be her father's doppelgänger. The group of people briefly blocked her view of him as she tried desperately to fight her way through them, but when she finally pulled herself free her father, or rather – the man who had looked just like him – was gone.
Diana span around in circles for a moment, checking the faces of anyone and everyone in the courtyard, as she tried desperately to spot the man who had caught her attention. But it rapidly became clear that Stephen Procter was most definitely not in the middle of the courtyard of the Bodleian Library.
Which made sense, given that he'd died when Diana was seven.
"Get a grip, Diana," she muttered to herself, as she turned to head for the entrance of the building.
Unfortunately, she'd been far too focused on trying to find a ghost than on the people around her, and with her first step forward, Diana found herself colliding with someone large and firm.
"Oh God, I'm so sorry," she apologized, as strong hands shot out to grip tightly to her upper arms, keeping her steady on her feet.
"No harm done," he assured her, pulling back to look down on the woman who had walk straight into him.
His gaze felt like the whisper of those first few snowflakes in winter when it landed on her skin, and Diana raised her eyes slowly to meet those belonging to the man that she'd hit. When she did, she cringed a little in his hold. She might have been new to the campus, and she certainly didn't know everyone there. But the way the guy was dressed screamed his status at her.
She'd walked straight into an Oxford University professor.
"Are you okay?" he asked, tilting his head slightly as he watched her face pale further.
Diana dropped her eyes with her embarrassment before pulling them back up to meet his gaze once more. She didn't want to come across as rude, given how they'd met. But her head was spinning with everything that had just happened, and she was finding it hard to focus on his face.
"Yeah. I'm… no, actually. No, I'm not," she finally declared, as she took a staggering step back. The professor's arms shot out once more to keep her steady on her feet, as his brow creased with his concern. "I uh… I think I'm just gonna go back to my rooms," she told him, suddenly eager to get away from his piercing stare. "I'm sorry again."
Diana turned on her heels before he could say anything else, leaving his arms to drop back down to his sides as his eyes followed her all the way across the courtyard, and down onto the path outside.
Thanks for reading.