Chapter 10
25 January, 1940 Library, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
"I should like to see a village completely inhabited by witches and wizards," Anneliese mused. "The comparison would be interesting, don't you think?" She looked to Dorcas for agreement.
Dorcas did agree. She was enthused about the impending Hogsmeade outing that had been announced on the message board in the Ravenclaw common room that morning. It was set for next Saturday. Dorcas had never seen the homes of magical people and, outside of Diagon Alley, had never seen shops and restaurants run by them either. First years were banned from the village in the fall term. This would be their first opportunity to venture beyond the grounds of Hogwarts.
"It's nothing to get worked up over," Cherry shrugged. "Now automobiles, airplanes, bicycles. That's something! They don't run on magic at all!"
Anneliese and Dorcas exchanged looks. Cherry could wax poetic for hours about Muggle inventions if given half the chance. This was part of her charm.
Dorcas and Anneliese had given her a Kodak Brownie Junior for Christmas that she promptly disassembled. Each part seemed to be as treasured by Cherry as the whole camera itself. To Dorcas's knowledge, she hadn't figured out how to reassemble it yet.
"There's a bookstore with all kinds of books that aren't-" Dorcas began.
"Don't say anything about books or the library," Cherry cut her off. "I feel like an absolute boffin even being in this place." She looked at the books on the shelves and shuddered as if they could infect her with some sort of plague.
"You have detention in ten minutes anyway," Anneliese reminded her.
Cherry pulled a face at Anneliese.
"What are you in for this time?" Dorcas asked, spreading a History of Magic essay out in front of her to revise.
Anneliese answered before Cherry could. "She was late for Professor Maynard's class." She adopted a waspish tone. "Again."
"I had a long walk from greenhouse nine all the way up to Charms, thank you very much," Cherry answered airily. She packed up the essay that she had grudgingly devoted fifteen whole minutes to. Anneliese packed up her books and parchment as well.
"But you don't have Herbology before Charms," Dorcas said, confused.
"Nope," Anneliese said, settling the strap of her bag on her shoulder, standing. "But Darren does."
"It was worth it," Cherry said in the same airy, above it all tone. "He kissed me."
Dorcas's eyes went wide. "No!"
Cherry stood and shouldered her bag as well. She grinned and nodded excitedly.
"Voluntarily?" Dorcas was shocked, recalling how Darren studiously tried to avoid personal contact with Cherry.
"Maybe," Cherry said evasively. "My charm will wear down even the strongest resolve."
Anneliese rolled her eyes. "Yep, like the Colorado eroding the Grand Canyon. He didn't stand a chance!" She grabbed Cherry's hand.
"Hi, Tom. Bye, Tom," Anneliese shot over her shoulder at the approaching boy, pulling Cherry behind her by the hand, like a mum with a wandering toddler.
Dorcas laughed at her friends' retreating forms. Tom took Cherry's empty seat and laid his books down, his back to the two girls as they left.
Cherry took the opportunity to mouth, "He's cute! You should go for it!" at Dorcas and mimed a hot snogging session.
Anneliese guided Cherry into a bookshelf before disappearing around a corner with her.
Dorcas blushed and turned to her library companion.
"Hey," Tom said.
Dorcas smiled faintly, hoping the color in her cheeks was returning to normal. She also hoped that he'd not witnessed Cherry's pantomime.
She was spared from talking to him for a moment as two Slytherins from her year approached them. Her cousin, Jonas and another boy from her Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, Wes Rookwood.
"Little Librarian," Wes called, addressing Dorcas with a smirk.
Jonas nudged him in the ribcage. "Don't call her that," he admonished. "Dorcas," he continued. "That essay about Stunning Spells."
"Yeah," Dorcas answered. "I finished it yesterday." She endeavored to keep her voice from rising in excitement when talking about school work. She knew other students found it amusing when she talked too enthusiastically about learning.
"What books did you use?" Jonas asked.
"Forget books!" Wes interjected. "Let us see your essay."
"Shut up," Jonas said, shooting his friend an exasperated look. "I just want to know the best places to look. I don't want you to do my work for me."
Dorcas nodded. "I used the Spellman's Syllabary to start, but I also looked up some case law in the legal section." She ripped a scrap of parchment from the bottom of her notes and wrote down the shelf and row number.
"Thanks," Jonas said smiling. He and Wes walked away in whispered conversation.
"They're all using you," Tom said once they were alone.
Dorcas shrugged. "I don't mind being helpful."
"One of these days you'll regret being so obliging."
She considered this for a moment. She knew that she was a joke to some students. But it felt good to help people. She shrugged in response. "Maybe."
They worked in silence for another hour before Tom spoke again.
He was packing up his books and rolled up an essay that he'd just completed.
"Meet me outside of your common room tonight?"
Dorcas thought about the request. She was sticking to the rule she'd set for herself. She only ventured out of bed to meet Tom on the weekends so that it didn't interfere with classes. It was Friday. And she hadn't spent a lot of time with Tom since she'd come back from Christmas break.
"Okay," she agreed.
A charming smile lit his features. As he stood, Dorcas thought about what Cherry had mimed behind his back. She looked down as another blush gave her away.
If Tom caught this reaction, he didn't let on. He stacked his books and left with them.
"See you."
Dorcas didn't trust herself to respond.
:::
25-26 January, 1940, Ravenclaw First Year Girls' Dormitory, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Dorcas selected her warmest jumper and pulled it over her head. She quietly surveyed herself in the mirror. She considered pulling her hair back in a tidy plait, but decided it would be warmer if she left it down over her shoulders and her neck.
As quietly as she could, she opened the door to her dormitory. The sound of four girls breathing softly dimmed as she closed it behind her. Dorcas crept down the stairs and across the common room.
Stepping out into the drafty corridor, Dorcas looked left and then right. She spotted Tom leaning against a railing beside the spiral staircase.
He was dressed warmly as well in black wool trousers and a heavy gray coat. He had a cloak folded over his arm.
"Are we going outside, Tom?" Dorcas asked, wondering if she should pop up to her dormitory to retrieve her cloak.
"Yes," he answered, tossing the cloak to her.
"But what will you wear?" She held the cloak out but didn't put it on.
Tom took the cloak from her and wrapped it around her shoulders. "I'll be fine."
Dorcas was about to insist on going back into her dormitory for her own outerwear, but Tom had already turned and walked down the spiral staircase.
"Tom, wait for me!" Dorcas cringed. She sounded like such a child.
He paused at the third floor landing and began to walk in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. Dorcas followed, walking doubletime to catch up to his long strides. She wondered if she should warn him about the Fat Lady. The large portrait was sure to tell them off if they wandered past her in the middle of the night. But, she supposed, Tom probably knew to avoid her.
They didn't get that far. Dorcas stopped next to Tom, relieved. She was about to ask him where they were going, but he was staring at a statue with such concentration that she thought better about it.
Tom pulled out his wand. Dorcas wondered if she should also take her wand out. She watched Tom carefully. He moved around the back of the figure, a one-eyed witch with a large humped back partially hidden by her robes.
"Dissendium!" Tom declared as he tapped the witch's hump with his wand.
Dorcas remembered Tom describing this statue to her as they lay on the floor of the Great Hall looking up at the enchanted ceiling. She became excited and bounced on the balls of her feet.
Tom clambered into a hole that appeared on the hump of the statue. She carefully climbed up the statue and descended into a narrow space.
She was plunged into complete darkness and struggled for a foothold, not sure how far the ground was beneath her. Instead, she slid down a slick stone chute for a moment. She stumbled forward and thought she might crash onto her hands and knees. Then she felt Tom's hands at her waist, and soon after, solid earth beneath her feet.
Dorcas turned in Tom's direction though she could not see him. His hands were still on her, she could feel his breath at her ear. Her fingers searched the pocket of her skirt and she found her wand.
"Lumos!" she whispered.
They were in a narrow passage. She looked up the way they had just come. The passageway entrance was sealed once more.
"Do you know where we're going yet?" Tom asked with a playful gleam in his eye.
He was standing very close to her. His hands were still on her. She could smell a scent that she always associated with him: fresh pine, as if she were surrounded by a very large and ancient forest. The cloak she was wearing carried the same scent.
"Hogsmeade," Dorcas whispered.
Tom nodded, breaking his hold on her and taking her hand in his.
She held her wand aloft, but Tom seemed to know the passageway well enough without it. It twisted and turned for a considerable length and she felt her eagerness fade somewhat into doubt. What would happen if they couldn't retrace their steps back to the school? What if they were caught? Surely they would be in far more trouble than if they had simply been found in the corridors of the school out of bounds.
"Stop it!" Tom's voice commanded.
Dorcas knew his voice was in her own head, because the sound did not echo around in the narrow stone chamber.
"Stop what?" Dorcas asked. She wondered if Tom had learned to read thoughts like she could.
"I know you're worrying about getting caught," Tom answered. She could hear the amusement in his voice. He squeezed her hand. "I can't read minds, like you. But I think I know you well enough to guess."
She was silent for a moment. The passageway began to incline steadily.
"Don't you trust me?" He had stopped in the tunnel, blocking her path. He held her hand and stared at her earnestly.
She answered without hesitation. "I do."
This earned her another smile. She felt her stomach flip.
"Come on." He tugged on her hand and drew her forward.
She followed for what felt like ten minutes. Then the passageway terminated in some worn stone steps. She followed Tom up the steps; a hundred or more. He was breathing harder and so was she. She debated taking the cloak off. It was getting warm.
Tom dropped her hand and placed both of his on a wooden door above them. She held her wand high, studying it.
He heaved the heavy wood and it budged with a loud creak. Dorcas held her breath, worried someone would be awakened by the noise. Tom moved through the opening in the floor and then held a hand out to her to pull her through.
"Put out the light," he whispered. She obeyed, tucking her wand back into her pocket.
She held his hand with both of hers and followed closely beside him. She looked around her. They seem to have emerged in the cellar of the candy store, Honeydukes. There were wooden boxes of inventory piled high around them.
"Oh, Tom!" Dorcas breathed. "This is wonderful!"
He laughed softly. "It's a storeroom. You need to raise your expectations."
They climbed a flight of wooden stairs and Dorcas entered the sales floor after Tom.
Brightly colored displays by day were muted at night. But Dorcas could imagine the riotous shades of candies in the daytime. She would come back next Saturday during the outing for a comparison.
She could make out barrels of Every Flavor Beans and Fizzing Whizbees.
Tom grabbed a Sugar Quill and popped it into his mouth. He led her to a display of caramels, chocolates, toffees, and a pink confection in the shape of a square. Its label said 'Coconut Ice'.
Tom looked at her and followed her eyes. He pulled her behind the display and served her a pink square.
She hesitated. "Tom, I can't. It's stealing."
He rolled his eyes and brought her hand up to the sweet, dropping the Coconut Ice into it. Then he crossed to the cash register and opened the till with his wand. He dropped four knuts into it.
"You're no fun at all," he said, sucking on his quill.
She smiled, pleased with the treat in her hand.
They walked to the door and quietly exited the shop onto the high street. Dorcas was reminded suddenly that it was late January when a biting wind numbed her cheeks and fingers. Clutching her sweet, she tucked her hands into Tom's cloak and pulled it tighter around her. He simply placed his hands in his pockets. Otherwise, Tom seemed to be unaffected by the blizzard like conditions.
They strolled past the bookshop that Dorcas was keen to visit, but she saw an upstairs light on and reckoned that the owner lived above the shop. Best to save this visit for next week during business hours.
Tom and Dorcas turned down a street that seemed more residential. The buildings were smaller, the windows lined with curtains. One house had a sign hanging on the door that marked it FOR SALE.
Tom took out his wand and spoke an incantation around his half-eaten Sugar Quill. The lock clicked and he turned the doorknob, holding the door open for Dorcas.
It was a relief to be out of the stinging wind. Tom closed the door behind them and locked it.
Dorcas spun surveying the space.
"What do you think, Darling?" Tom said, hands in his pockets again. "Is it the home of your dreams?"
Dorcas appraised the space. "I don't know, Dear," she answered, taking on the air of a discerning homebuyer. "I prefer a grander entryway." She motioned haughtily at the plain wooden door they had just stepped through and the small, woven rug that bore the tracks of their snow covered shoes.
Tom nodded. "Look, it has a lovely little reading nook." He sat down in a chair next to the fire, a bookcase lined the opposite wall. "I could read Keats aloud to you while you make my dinner." His voice became snobbish. He gestured to the small kitchen opposite him.
Dorcas scoffed. "You'll make the meals while I read, Dear," she argued.
She climbed the stairs while Tom perused the book collection. She found three small bedrooms. They were cozy. The one in the far corner had a fireplace and a lovely view of the nearby mountains.
Dorcas heard Tom coming up the stairs.
"Darling?" He called in his snobbish voice.
"Back here," Dorcas answered.
Tom stood in the doorway. Dorcas turned around and smiled at him. He was holding a book.
"Does it have enough bedrooms?" He was surveying the home's selling points again.
"For the ten children we're going to have?" Dorcas shook her head. "No, not enough."
Tom laughed. "Ten?"
"I know you wanted twenty, Dear," Dorcas grinned. "But marriage is about compromise. I won't go any higher than ten."
"Then this house won't do at all," he replied, placing his free hand in his pocket, leaning against the door's frame.
"What book is that?" Dorcas asked, breaking the pretense of the joke. She was unfastening the cape and laying it on the bed. She sat down as Tom crossed the room and handed it to her. She took it and gently placed her Coconut Ice on the bedside table.
"A Thousand and One Nights," she said fondly, reading the cover. "This is my favorite."
Tom lit a fire in the fireplace with his wand and climbed onto the bed next to her. "Read it to me," he asked, his voice gentle, like a child asking for a bedtime story.
Dorcas opened the book. She broke her pink confection in half and handed a piece to Tom. She ate the other piece and began to read. Tom shifted lower in the bed so that his head was on the pillow. Dorcas did the same, reaching for the cloak and pulling it over their legs.
Dorcas finished two vignettes of the epic tale and closed the book.
"Birdie?"
Tom propped his head up with one hand, resting his elbow on the pillow beside her. His eyes fixed her with an intense stare. His eyes were very dark and serious.
"Yes?" She tried to keep her voice neutral, though his tone and his gaze made it clear that he wanted something from her.
"I want you to teach me how you do what you do."
"What do I do?" she hedged. She leaned back on her pillow and stared back at him, clutching the book to her chest, like a talisman.
"You see into the minds of others. I want to know how to do that." He moved closer to her. He was staring into her eyes, as if he could find out the secret just by looking deeply enough.
She pushed Tom back with the hand that held the book. He was too close. Her thoughts became muddled when he stared at her like that. Sitting up, she felt the spell break. Her heart was racing.
"Tom," she sighed. "I already explained to you. I didn't learn it. So how can I teach it to you?"
"Try," Tom argued. There was a plea in his voice. The sound of it tore at her resolve. She wanted to give him anything in her power to give when he spoke to her like that. "Try to read my mind and then tell me how you do it."
"I'm not sure it works that way," Dorcas explained, her voice a whisper.
Tom took the book away from her, like removing her armor, and cast it aside. He moved so that he was kneeling in front of her, his face inches from hers. He took her hands and pulled her into a kneeling position opposite him.
"Okay," Dorcas conceded. "Don't project out, like you do when you talk to me with your mind," Dorcas said. She was very skeptical of her ability to pass this skill on to Tom.
Tom nodded. Every movement he made was tense. He reminded Dorcas of a coiled snake, ready to strike.
"Okay," Dorcas said, trying to pep talk herself.
She reached out with her mind. She felt an electricity in the palms of her hands as they rested in the grip of Tom's hands. She was hyper aware that this was a very intimate act. She thought back to Cherry's charade in the library earlier that day and broke the connection with Tom.
"What's wrong," Tom asked.
Dorcas was too self conscious, too aware of Tom's proximity to her. She pulled her hands away from his.
"This isn't going to work." She folded her hands in her lap. She wouldn't look at him.
"Birdie," Tom said. He placed his hands on either side of her face, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Birdie," he pleaded. "Try. Please try."
She nodded and took his hands from her face, holding them in her lap. She stared at him once more. She noticed every detail of his eyes. The deep brown became pools, images reflected in their surface. She settled on one reflection. Flame.
As she focused on the flame flickering behind his eyes, it became a large piece of furniture, a wardrobe in an otherwise drab and sparse room. A younger boy version of Tom sat on the bed looking at the burning wardrobe. Professor Dumbldore stood opposite the younger Tom. Dorcas had the impression Dumbledore had caused the fire.
Leaving the memory felt like breaking the surface of water. She gasped.
"What did you see?" Tom asked, eager. He released her hands again and grabbed her face. Holding her gaze with his own.
"A burning wardrobe?"
Tom gave a triumphant shout. "You did?"
He pulled her close to him and kissed her lips. Dorcas was stunned. The feeling of electricity between her palms and Tom's that she had sensed earlier was coursing through her entire body now.
"You're brilliant!" he shouted, smiling at her.
She wondered if he was even aware of what he'd just done.
"Okay," he continued, refusing to let Dorcas go. "Tell me exactly what you did. Tell me what it felt like. Tell me every detail."
Dorcas swallowed hard. She couldn't find her voice.
Tom's grip softened. He stroked her hair, dropped his hands to hers resting in her lap once more. His thumbs rubbed the backs of her hands encouragingly.
"I stared into your eyes," Dorcas recalled, unable to think clearly, head fuzzy. "I began to see a lot of things and I focused on one and concentrated really hard." She knew she wasn't explaining what had happened just right. She began to be angry that words were failing her.
"It's okay," Tom said, noting how her shoulders fell. "Let me try on you."
Tom stared at Dorcas once more. Dorcas couldn't clear the kiss from her mind. She knew that if he was successful, if he could breach the walls of her mind, the memory of the kiss would be the first thing he saw. She wanted to push it to the back of her mind. She wanted to control what he saw.
Tom stared into her eyes for a moment, the intensity of his gaze made Dorcas want to pull away. Finally, he shook his head. "I can't see anything but your eyes."
He didn't sound defeated. He sounded energized, hopeful.
Dorcas felt something between them change, become more. She blushed and looked away. The fire was nearly out in the grate on the opposite wall.
"Don't be discouraged," Tom said, his right hand released her left and he slipped it behind her neck. His fingers winding into her hair. "You were amazing. I didn't expect to learn in just one night. We'll continue again another time."
She felt a little better, less like a failure.
He kissed her again, a deeper kiss. His left hand, grasping her right hand guided it to his chest, under his coat, at his heart. He covered it with his hand. Her left hand slipped under his coat and around to his back. Tom gasped at her touch and wound his fingers deeper in her hair. He leaned forward, pushing her back against the headboard.
Tom broke the kiss. He was breathing hard.
He looked to the fire and noticed that it was almost out as well. "We should go."
:::
26 January, 1940 Ravenclaw First Year Girls' Dormitory, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
The January sun was too weak for Dorcas to gauge the time properly. She rolled over in her bed and looked at the little clock on her bedside table. It was just after eleven o'clock in the morning. She didn't remember looking at the time when she had climbed into bed after leaving Tom outside of the Ravenclaw common room last night (or, rather, earlier this morning). They were painfully silent the entire trek back up the passageway and to the fourth floor corridor. She couldn't be sure what Tom was feeling. His face was a mask of indifference.
She knew her own feelings, however. She was awash in humiliation and fear. It came back to her the moment she opened her eyes.
The instant that she'd responded physically to Tom's kiss, letting her hand slip under his coat and to his back, he'd tensed like a skittish animal. Her face felt hot and she threw her covers over her head. At this time of day, though, she didn't have to peek out from under her covers to know that she was alone in the room.
She remembered how quickly Tom had moved away from her. She remembered how he wouldn't look at her. She was afraid that she'd just scared off her friend-perhaps, her best friend. As much as she wanted to find him and clear the air, her first and loudest instinct was avoidance.
She dressed hastily, finding the wool skirt and thick cable knit jumper she wore last night and threw them back on hastily. She considered where she might be rushing off to only to realize that it wasn't where she wanted to run to, but what she wanted to run from. If only she could reverse time, she would take all of the kissing and the touching back.
She needed a distraction. She considered the library. It was very likely she would run into Tom there. She couldn't think of a single nook or deserted corridor in the school in which she hadn't been in Tom's company.
Dorcas now regretted rushing through her school assignments. She had nothing to distract herself with.
An idea struck her. She remembered the conversation she'd had with her mother about her Uncle Morty and had made a mental note to look into some of the spells and curses that her mother had mentioned. She could start by finding out more about the institution he'd been sent to. She knew of a few references that mentioned schools and hospitals in the Wizarding World. It would mean a trip to the library. But she didn't have to stay. She could check out some books and make a run for it.
She nodded to herself, resolved. Bending to lace up her shoes, she left Ravenclaw Tower and traced a familiar path to the library.
"Dorcas," she heard Anneliese call. She looked up and saw her two friends walking toward her arm in arm. "We missed you at breakfast."
Dorcas tucked her hair behind her ears, remembering sheepishly that she hadn't bothered to tie it back, or even to brush it. She was falling apart.
"I skipped it. I was tired."
Anneliese looked closely at her. "Are you feeling okay? You look pale."
"I'm fine. I was just headed to the lib-" Dorcas was interrupted by Cherry, who made a retching noise.
"Don't say library! Anneliese just made me spend an hour doing homework in there."
"Library," Dorcas finished blandly.
"We're going to find the boys and get a game of Exploding Snap together in the Trophy Room if you want to join us later." Anneliese smiled amiably, raising her eyebrows hopefully.
"Alright," Dorcas nodded. "Maybe I will."
She continued down the hallway as Anneliese and Cherry descended the stairs.
Dorcas slipped into the library like a spy and scanned the crowd assembled there for Tom. He was not present as far as she could tell. The tense muscles in her shoulders loosened a little. She perused the titles on the shelves in the institutional reference section. She selected Medical Institutions of Great Britain and flipped to the index. Wingate Institution was mentioned on several pages. She grabbed another reference that looked promising and hefted the two books in her arms.
Checking out was a nerve wracking affair in which Dorcas was sure Tom would walk in any minute and her fears would be confirmed. Things would be irreversibly awkward between them. But he didn't walk in and Dorcas checked her books out and retreated from the library without incident.
Finding a niche that was obscured by a tapestry on the third floor, Dorcas settled in with her books and began to read.
In Medical Institutions of Great Britain Dorcas learned that Wingate Institution was founded around the same time as Hogwarts was, meaning it was very old. She also learned that it was founded to treat patients who suffered from ailments related to spell damage. This was ironic to Dorcas. According to her mother, it became an institution that inflicted spell damage, rather than healing it. The main mission of the hospital began to change under the leadership of a healer named Matthias Burke who served as the Healer in Charge for the hospital from 1823 to 1888. She made a mental note to look the wizard up on her next trip to the library.
She was interrupted by Bing who slinked behind the tapestry and jumped onto the ledge that Dorcas was sitting on. She scratched her kitten's ears, wondering what the animal did all day to occupy himself.
Her musings were interrupted by a larger form that followed the cat behind the tapestry.
"Clerey," Cal said, unsurprised to see Dorcas sitting there. "What are you reading?"
Dorcas showed him the title. She was not annoyed at Cal for breaking her solitude. In fact, he was a welcome distraction. She hadn't gotten a chance to catch up with him since arriving back at Hogwarts after Christmas break.
"That looks gripping," Cal said, scanning the title. He didn't say it in a sarcastic way, like Cherry would have. He genuinely seemed interested.
"Sit," Dorcas offered, pulling her feet toward her and readjusting her skirt, offering him half of the niche she was occupying. "How did you find me?"
"Bing," Cal said simply, taking the seat that Dorcas offered.
He was wearing a thick corduroy jacket and wool trousers. His cheeks were red, indicating that he'd just come in from the chilly wind. The gloves he held in his hands confirmed this.
"I ran into Cherry and Anneliese. They said you were in the library. I checked there first and then I saw this little fella creeping behind the tapestry. He gave you away."
"Did you want something?" Dorcas wondered why Cal was seeking her out particularly.
Cal shrugged. "No. Just wanted to see you."
"How is your brother?" Dorcas asked politely.
"All mended and back to training," Cal reported. "Mother isn't happy about that. I think she would have injured him again if it meant keeping him from the Front."
"He's a pilot?" Dorcas seemed to remember a conversation in which Cal had mentioned the Air Force.
Cal nodded. "And your uncle?"
Dorcas tried hard to forget that night. She still felt so guilty about her uncle's fall.
"He's recovered."
"So what's got you looking up hospitals in Britain?" Cal reached for the book, open to the page that Dorcas had been reading. "Do you want to be a healer?"
Dorcas shrugged. The thought had never occurred to her that she would have to decide on a profession one day. Healer. That could be interesting.
She considered just replying "yes" and avoiding a real conversation about her uncle and all that her mother had shared with her. There was something about Cal's easy manner and his genuine interest in the things that she said that made her want to confide in him.
"My uncle was sent to that place when he was a child," Dorcas said, pointing to a photograph of Wingate with a sepia toned staff of healers waving in the foreground.
Cal looked from her to the book in his hand and read quickly. "Why?"
"My grandfather thought," Dorcas struggled for words. "I don't know. That it would make him do magic, or just to hide him. I'm not sure."
Cal turned the page and continued reading. "This doesn't seem like a good place."
Dorcas agreed. She explained the treatments that her mother told her about and described the state that her uncle's mental processes were in now as a result.
"Magic can be incredibly destructive," Cal admitted, more to himself than to Dorcas. "And healers should know better than to experiment on children like that."
"I wonder if they're still operational," Dorcas mused.
Cal shuddered. "I hope they've been shut down." He handed the book back to Dorcas.
Dorcas sighed and rubbed her blurry eyes.
Cal studied her for a moment.
"Come on. Let's find the others and play games. You've had enough sitting in the dark and reading by yourself." He stood and held out a hand to her. His other arm held her library books.
Dorcas agreed. She couldn't hide behind tapestries in the dark forever. She scooped up Bing and took Cal's hand.
Stepping into the lightened third floor corridor, it took her eyes a moment to adjust. As they did, she saw Tom walking past them. She caught his pointed glance at Dorcas's hand in Cal's. He strode by without comment. They could have been strangers on a busy London street.
A/N: Reviews welcome and appreciated.
