This takes place years after the books/film. It fairly safe to say its AU, and will most likely become M rated. Hope you enjoy, feedback is always welcome.
She barely noticed him the first time she'd looked up, her mind fully on the paper in front of her, hand shielding her eyes from the sun that slanted through the large windows, highlighting the crisp white paper and her neat black script upon it. The knock on the door was hardly unusual, their classes were often disturbed with the low voices of their tutors conversing at the front of the room, but she couldn't ignore the soft call of her name.
She squinted at the figures, her tutor holding a single sheet of paper in his hand, his voice softer than she'd ever heard it. It took her a full five seconds to recognise him, perhaps it was because he was wearing normal clothes, it could have been because his hair was a little longer, or simply because she hadn't seen him for years, had truly never expected to see him here. But the moment she realised who he was she felt the pen slip from her grip, clattering loudly on the desk as his name fell from her lips with shock.
Her chair scraped obnoxiously loud against the floor as she stood, her knees trembling with trepidation and drawing the gaze of everyone in her class, their quiet study session temporarily suspended as she repeated his name. "Dustfinger?"
He shook his head, anticipating her concern. She would have known that he would have been with them, trailing them from a distance. The last copy of the book had been lost long ago, but he'd never quite given up the hope that somehow, somewhere another would turn up, he'd stayed close, knowing that her father still had the habit of closely checking every shelf his eyes roved over, his promise to the trapped wanderer never forgotten. He turned up in their lives every now and then, more and more often over the years, staying for longer each time until he itched for the freedom of the road again. But she had always been away when he had come, and now he was here, unexpected and terrifyingly real as her mind screamed at her, he should be in Italy, following the paths of her parents as they toured the country looking for rare finds.
His hands shook, grasping at her arms as she ran to him, her eyes wide at the look on his face, "Where are they?" She breathed, fingers twisting the soft wool of his jumper as she stared up into his pained eyes. But he said nothing, wary of the eyes on them, of the interest her sudden outburst had caused, her gestured for her to follow him outside, hushing her as she continued her demands, wanting to know why he was here, what had happened.
The latching of the door behind them loosened his tongue and he explained to her quietly, each word carefully chosen as he gently told her that her parents were gone.
The white haze that drifted through her mind blurred his words, turning his story into a dream as he spoke of how there had been an accident, that he hadn't even known for two weeks until he had found his way to her aunts house. The car that they had all been travelling in losing control on the narrow, winding roads that wrapped themselves around the precipitous hills. The local police had had a hard time identifying them, and it was only his growing concern at their absence that had led them to believe that they had found who they were looking for. He had come straight to her, using detestable modern means in order to reach her. She had looked at him then, her eyes shimmering with tears that refused to fall, because to cry would mean it was real.
"And why are you here?"
"To take you home."