A/N: Second chapter! Whoo!
I do not own any Professor Layton characters.
The Laytonmobile rumbled along the street, as the Professor made his way to Gressenheller University.
Red and gold leaves blanketed the road like an ornate carpet, and he could hear them crunching under his wheels as he drove. He crossed over Westminster Bridge, and just like they always did, all of the horrible memories of that day came rushing back.
"Are you Hershel Layton?" the young police officer asked him.
"Yes. How may I help you?"
"Sir, would you mind if I came in for a moment?"
Layton sighed. Deep down, he knew he couldn't have done anything, but it was no comfort. In his eyes, he had failed to protect her.
When he arrived at the university, he parked in his reserved place and got out, ready to start a new day.
He climbed the majestic marble steps and walked in. Nearby, a group of young ladies idly chatted away but stopped momentarily when they saw him.
"Good morning, Professor!" they said simultaneously.
Layton came over to them and tipped his hat.
"Good morning, ladies. How are you doing today? May I ask what you are reading?"
"Pride and Prejudice," they answered in unison, turning their books over so he could see the cover.
"Jane Austen. A fine choice," he smiled.
Emily Hanover, one of the shyest yet smartest students he had ever had in his class spoke up. "Professor, I finished that report on Mary Leakey."
This didn't surprise the professor. Emily was front-and-center in every class. Taking notes and absorbing every word.
"Splendid. I look forward to reading it. Now ladies, I do apologize, but I must run. Have a wonderful day."
"Bye Professor!" Emily said cheerfully.
As he turned the corner, he heard one of the other girls scoff. "Showoff."
Layton unlocked his office door and was about to turn the handle when he heard a noise come from inside. A sneeze, to be exact.
What's this?
He opened the door and there, standing over his desk, was a young blonde woman, rifling through his papers.
Layton, quite unsure of what to say, cleared his throat.
The mystery guest whirled around, nearly knocking some books onto the floor in the process.
Layton recognized her right away, which to be honest, he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.
"Miss Whitlock, what are you doing in my office?"
Sarah Whitlock, a 19-year-old promising archaeology student, looked back innocently at her professor.
"Professor! I'm so glad to see you! I was just tidying up your office, like you asked."
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't you remember?"
"No...," he answered slowly.
"The other day when you said you wished your office was more organized?"
Layton finally understood.
"I appreciate the gesture, Miss Whitlock, but that's not what I meant. This is trespassing."
"No it's not!" she cried defensively.
"Yes it is. I think it's best you leave now. Please."
"I was just trying to help!" Sarah snatched her bag from the ground, and without another word she stormed out, leaving the Professor stunned.
Layton shut the door behind her and exhaled slowly, trying to calm his nerves.
He sat at his desk, trying to see if anything was misplaced.
Everything seemed to be in order... except one thing. A framed photo of Claire that he kept on his desk was now face-down. He returned it to it's upright position, and noticed that a small blue envelope had been hidden underneath.
He picked it up. It had been opened.
Just then, there was a small knock at the door and he heard it creak open.
"Professor?" a voice said.
It was Sarah.
Layton tossed the note into the first drawer.
"Miss Whitlock, now is not really a good time."
"Are you angry with me?" She sounded timid and small, very unlike what he had just witnessed a few minutes before.
"Come in, Miss Whitlock."
He heard soft footsteps behind him, and he turned his chair to face her.
"I am going to be honest with you, Miss Whitlock. I'm disappointed. I expect better of my students."
Sarah sniffled.
Layton stood up. "You are a very bright young lady, which is why I know you know that what you did was wrong."
Sarah looked up at him. "You think I'm bright?"
"I know you are."
Sarah's cheeks turned a light pink. "I am sorry, for being in here without your permission," she said softly. "It was a foolish thing to do. Can you ever forgive me?"
"Of course. What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't?"
Sarah gave a grateful smile.
"I should be going. Emily said she wanted to talk to me."
"Have a good day," he said.
"You too, sir."
Once she was gone, Layton plucked the note from his drawer and scanned it.
Professor-
When the time is convenient, please come see me in my office.
Vice-Chancellor Taylor
Layton checked his pocket watch.
Half past eight.
Lessons were to begin shortly, and with his classroom all the way at the other end of the school, Layton decided to pay the vice-chancellor a visit later.
He tucked the note into his pocket, and after doing another overview of his office, he set off down the long corridors to educate young minds in the place he loved most.
It was nearing three o' clock when the professor knocked on Vice-Chancellor David Taylor's door.
"Come in," he said from the other side.
Layton entered and looked around. He had only been inside this room twice since he started teaching at the university, and it seemed as if nothing much had changed.
A Union Jack hung on a pole and books lined an entire wall behind the Vice-Chancellor.
"Ah, Professor Layton, such a pleasure to see you again," he grinned. "Please, have a seat."
A soft breeze blew in through the window, slightly ruffling the flag.
"Would you care for some tea?" The Vice-Chancellor asked.
"No, thank you," Layton declined politely.
"How have you been, Professor? How is your daughter?" He stirred some milk into his cup.
"Wonderful, thank you. How is your family?"
The Vice-Chancellor took a small sip.
"They are well, thank you. My little boy Henry has started his first form at City of London, and my daughter Charlotte has begun her second year at St. Hugh's. She is studying French history. Amelia and I are very proud of them both."
"I cannot believe that she is at university. I remember when I first started here, she was only six years old," the Professor said.
"'Tis true what they say: Time flies," the Vice-Chancellor noted.
He then cleared his throat.
"Now Professor, seeing as you are here, I assume you got my letter. I have something important I need to discuss."
The Vice-Chancellor pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and stared down at a piece of paper in his hands.
"As you know, the worldwide economy has taken quite a hit in the past four years. We here in London are fortunate as to not have been hurt as badly. However, our American friends are not as lucky. Unemployment has reached an alarming level, and people are being evicted from their homes faster than the banks can foreclose them."
He peered at Layton over the rim of his glasses.
"Sadly, many primary and secondary schools have been forced to close due to the dramatic loss of instuctors, and many people are worried that universities may be next."
Layton sat still, listening intently.
"The president, Franklin Delano Roosevelt has requested foreign aid in the form of volunteer teachers. Professors from France, Italy and Australia have been assigned to schools like Yale, Princeton and Columbia, and now, it's our turn."
He handed Layton the paper he was holding.
"Harvard University has called upon Gressenheller, asking us to send a list of possible candidates and Professor, after reviewing multiple prospects, they have chosen you."
Was he saying what the Professor thought he was saying?
"Harvard wants me to come and teach?" Layton asked.
"Yes."
Layton couldn't believe it. His mind was jumbled, which didn't happen often.
"When am I to start?"
"It's a bit short notice, but there is a ship leaving for the United States in nine days."
"Oh."
"I do apologize for the inconvenienece. Harvard took some time getting back to us on their decision, leaving us with no time to give you proper time to prepare."
Layton looked out the window. The sun was starting to set.
"Professor, in the event that you are unable to go, Harvard has selected Professor Burke in your place. You must know, however, that that letter I gave you is from the dean himself. In it, he expresses how honored he would be to have someone of your caliber at his school."
How could the Professor say no? It would go against everything he believed about helping someone in need. He was a true gentleman after all, wasn't he?
"So, Professor, what do you say? Shall I tell Harvard who their new instructor will be?"
The Professor nodded. "Yes."
The Vice-Chancellor clapped his hands together. "Fantastic. Thank you Professor. Harvard is going to be so thankful."
The two men shook hands and said goodbye.
A few minutes after the Professor had gone, the Vice-Chancellor picked up his phone and dialed.
"Well?" a voice answered.
The Vice-Chancellor pressed his tongue to his teeth before responding.
"It's done."
A/N: Hi! I hope you all liked this chapter. Please R&R!
Happy 4TH!