Ok. This is NOT a oneshot. I repeat, this is NOT a onesot.

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Disclaimer: I do not own The Bartimaeus Trilogy.

I paused. The door wasn't locked. It wasn't even being guarded by whatever that thing kept this room in check.

But I still hesitated.

He's dead. Get a grip on yourself!

I inhaled deeply as I took the cold brass doorknob in my hand, and pulled. The door didn't move. A look of confusion crossed my face and then I scoffed at my stupidity. This time, I pushed. The door swung open with an eyrie creak. I allowed myself in, half heartedly hoping to see him there, standing with that arrogant smirk on his face. I would wipe it off in an instant with my fist, if that were to happen. Then again, if that were to actually happen, I don't think I could've done that. Not after what he's been through. Not after what he put me through.

Not after what we've been put through.

I travelled lightly towards his desk. The back of his chair was tracing me, and I let my imagination wander at who might be sitting in it. I mentally slapped myself. What was I thinking? Him? Alive? Here? He would never come back.

My fingers traced the contour of his desk. I walked slowly, letting my hands run over all the delicate carvings. Sitting myself down in his chair, my eyes grazed his desk. There he was, staring back at me. It was so typical of Nathaniel to keep a picture of himself on his desk. He had always been so egotistical.

Not always.

I ignored that little voice that said that. I took the picture in my hands, my thumb stroking the plane of glass, the glass that kept my hand from touching him. My grip tightened, my knuckles turning white. With a sudden rage of fury I threw the picture on the ground, the glass shattering as it made a connection to the floor. My arms lashed out as I swept the items off his desk in a fluid motion. My head found my arms as painful sobs shuddered throughout my body.

"How could you!"

My voice echoed slightly, fading off into the distance.

"You're such a jerk!"

My voice was unsteady and cracking. My legs felt like jelly as I slid slowly to the floor. My forehead and fingers resting on the edge of his desk, I wanted to sink through the floor. My sobs fell into unsteady gasps as I clamed myself. I slowly crawled over to where I had thrust his picture, careful not to cut myself with the shards of glass. My arm reached for it. This time, there wasn't any glass between us. My fingers went over his face.

"You fool."

My voice was filled with venom. I hated magicians. I hated them all. And you were one of them. You lied to me. You took everything away from me. You were everything I predicated you to be. After all, you were a magician.

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An prologue first chapter sort of thing… Hope you liked it.