Simon stood stock still in his shock. Howie was looking at him for guidance on how to treat Penny, who he didn't remember.
"Howie, why don't you come over here with me and tell me about Fragments?" Simon asked, trying to tug him away from the group.
"Um, okay…" Howie said, confused as he allowed himself to be pulled to the side.
"Howie," Simon began, taking a deep breath, "Are you sure you haven't forgotten anything? Something…..important, perhaps?"
"Pretty sure," Howie said slowly, looking even more confused, "Why, what have I forgotten?"
"Um, well….." Simon began, looking beseechingly at the others.
They all shrugged, as Penny left the room, starting to cry as she went.
"It's kind of hard to explain," Simon settled for saying, trailing off into an awkward silence.
"Well, I'd better be off," Tallulah said, breaking the silence, a fake smile on her face, "I have a study date in the library."
"What?" Ryan exclaimed.
"With who?" Baz asked.
"Darcy," Tallulah replied, "You know Darcy, Baz."
"That's alright then, you had me worried for a second." Baz smiled, hugging Tallulah goodbye.
"Oh, and it's great that you know what the thoughts say, Howie, good job." Tallulah smiled sadly at Howie before leaving.
"I'd better go too," Ryan said, "I've got to inform Monique and her cronies that they are no longer welcome on my football team, and find replacements, which will be so much fun, it was hard enough at the beginning of the year." He sighed.
"So, what did you find out about 'Fragmentation'?" Simon asked Howie.
"Does Penny know about this?" Howie asked him, pushing his glasses up on his nose.
"She does." Baz answered idly.
Howie took a deep breath, "Okay, so Fragments have been created purposefully through time to enable the original wizards to have a doppelganger, servants, or to split workloads. If an extremely powerful wizard at a young age were to have, say, an imaginary friend," With this Howie pulled a face, "The 'imaginary' person could solidify into a Fragment and the child would be none the wiser. That's a pretty basic rundown, but you get the idea. So if eleven year old Simon, was say, friends with an imaginary version of himself…" Howie trailed off.
"It would become the Insidious Humdrum." Baz piped up.
"Exactly." Howie beamed at him.
"What else?" Baz urged.
"Umm," Howie rubbed his eyes tiredly, "There is one way to destroy them."
"What, what is it?" Baz asked.
Howie paused, "I did know, it's not clear at the moment though. Drat, I knew I had to tell you!"
His eyes were on Simon, but Simon wasn't reacting, hadn't reacted since the start of Howie's monologue. The colour had been drained from his face and his perpetually mused up hair was beginning to flatten.
"What is it?" Baz asked.
"I know how I created the Humdrum." Simon answered.
"It doesn't matter now, Simon," Baz said, not unworriedly, "all that matters now is that we figure out how to get rid of it."
"I guess," Simon said, "sorry for getting you guys involved."
"That's alright; we would have gotten involved anyway. The Humdrum is every magic user's problem." Howie said, smiling at Simon.
"But you're all making sacrifices, and it should just be me." Simon was glum.
"Simon, your hero complex is showing," Baz said gently.
"We're your friends we are supposed to help you when things don't go to plan." Howie stated logically.
"It's not fair though." Simon burst out.
"Now is it fair that you accidentally created something that is trying to rid the world of magic when you were eleven, and expecting you to fix it by yourself." Baz pointed out calmly.
"That's it!" Howie exclaimed.
"What's what?" Simon asked, surprised.
"I'll tell you in a minute, but seriously, Simon, you can't expect us to step back and let you do this by yourself?" Howie said.
"Yes I can." Simon said stubbornly.
"No, I mean you literally can't. Fragments cannot be destroyed by those who created them." Howie stated.
This stopped Simon in his tracks.
"What. Do. You. Mean." You bit out slowly.
"Exactly what I said," Howie said calmly, "You can't destroy your own Fragment. For one, it's too traumatising, too much like killing yourself from the past. People have been known to go mad if they destroy their own Fragments."
"Why does it have to be someone else?" Baz chipped in.
Howie shrugged, "It's not exactly clear, just a really bad feeling, like," he looked around grimly, "someone's following me, almost."
"That's very nice, but doesn't really help." Baz snarled.
"It has, it was worth your memory." Simon told Howie.
He smiled, "I'm glad I could help, and I don't miss what I've forgotten, I mean, how can I? I never realised I had it in the first place."
Baz and Simon were speechless.
Howie rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks beginning to brighten, "Why didn't you tell me about that Penny girl sooner Simon? I looked like such an idiot rushing out of that room and-and encountering someone I'd never met before!"
"I'm sorry." Simon murmured.
"I just-I can't help-Oh never mind."
Howie's anger was roiling off of him in waves as he steamed out of the room.
"Are mood swings one of the side effects of thought trading?"
Baz sat beside Simon, draping his arm over him.
"Well, I know it's a side effect of being a vampire." Simon smirked.
Baz whistled, "You really dug deep for that one, Simon."
"I know, speaking of which though, you still haven't told me how you became a vampire….." Simon trailed off suggestively.
"What one Earth are you insinuating?" Baz asked Simon with a straight face.
"It's time like these that it's hard to tell whether you are serious or not." Simon said, confused.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Baz smirked.
"Yes, I would," Simon exclaimed, flailing wildly.
"Stop flailing, Simon," Baz sighed, "You're going to hit something and it will break."
"No, I won't." Simon said, flailing more wildly to prove his point.
Baz rolled his eyes as Simon's hand connected with a lamp, knocking it, and causing it to shatter on the floor.
"Oops," Simon muttered his eyes on the pieces of lamp.
"I told you so." Baz smiled amused.
"Shoosh you," Simon flapped his arms at Baz, before dropping to the floor to gather the pieces of lamp into the pile.
"Simon," Baz said gently, "There's a dustpan and broom in the bathroom, I'll go get it for you."
"Uh-huh," Simon hummed, continuing to move the pieces of the lamp around the floor.
Baz rolled his eyes again, and moved into the bathroom, rummaging through the cupboard under the sink.
"Shoot," Simon cursed, "Oh, Baz," he said, his voice going higher in panic, "you might not want to come out at the moment."
Baz felt his fangs lengthen as he smelt the blood in the other room.