I'm up early, getting ready to meet the professor. My first thought of the new day is about yesterday. How much he opened up to me, more than he ever has before. Maybe it wasn't his intention to, but he did. Now I need to do the same. Ask more questions, spark more conversations if I'm going to get familiar with him.

I look at the now-damp towel I placed over my pillow last night. Grrr, stupid Wenge! You're gonna get it if this becomes a regular thing with you. Resolution in my mind, I march out of the dorm. I quickly scan for any enchantments or lingering remnants of energy. Good. I can walk out now. Walking down the hall, eyes scanning the ceiling and scaffolding for movement, ears perked up for any sudden sounds, I make it to the conference room. If I can just survive this until eleven, then I can focus on tracking down Wenge.

I slowly open the door.

"Good morning." He greets politely.

"Good morn-AAAGH!" I stumble over myself and fall flat on my stomach. I hit the wooden floor with a loud "Slam!"

He rushes to me. "Are you hurt?" But I can hear him trying to hold back the laughter in his voice.

"I'm fine. I just tripped over something." I try to get back on my feet, but then a looseness in my boots registers. I look down. "Huh?!" My long laces are untied and tangled together.

He looks at what I'm looking at. "If you are not going to take care to ensure your laces are properly tied, then you are completely deserving of this folly." He scolds.

"But I did tie them this morning!" I groan, then prop myself up on one knee and begin untangling the mess.

After several minutes of frustrating fumbling, he lets out an agitated groan and bends down to me. I expect him to pull out his wand and solve the issue in a second, but he instead swats my hands aside and gets to work untying the laces himself.

I'm red with embarrassment. His long, slim fingers effortlessly dip and weave through the knots. He gently tugs at the looser string, effectively disentangling the laces. I reach my hands down to properly tie them, but they are swatted again, and he swiftly ties my laces into firm, neat little bows.

"I… Um. Thank you." Is all can say, realizing how childish I must look.

"I have a right mind to administer detention for such a clear lack of propriety, but I suppose the good knocking you gave yourself is a lesson learned well enough."

Burning, flushed, I nod my head vigorously. Wenge, you're in for it now.

As there is nothing to discuss, we, to my shock, head down to the dungeons and begin the blasted training.

"Before we begin, I must ask you use your natural magick again."

I would be flattered by him wanting to see my magick so much if it didn't involve heavy note-taking and instead led to some actual compliments. I ready myself but he stops me. Confused, I watch him whip out his wand.

Are we going to duel? I stare straight into his eyes. No, he wouldn't do that. That doesn't benefit him.

"Cast anything you like, anything at all- even if it is a spell not taught by the academy. I will attempt to duplicate the process."

"More experiments?" I frown at him.

He shakes his head. "Trust me, and you will learn."

The more devious side of my brain takes over. I smirk slightly, and hold back a dark chuckle. Let's sway this scenario towards a more, romantic direction.

I make sure to watch my breath and heartbeat, and I think calming, warm thoughts. I physically draw out a heart with my fingers, and imagine it throbbing and blushing, the familiar "Tha-thump. Tha-thump." My smile widens when Professor Grabiner gapes at my giant heart-throb illusion. I can only make illusions about as big as I am, and as long as I can shape it, draw it or write it out, I can do it. That's as good as I've been able to get with blue magick, even with the academy version's mastery behind my belt.

He disappears behind my heart as it swells to match my size, growing redder and beating faster. It's ridiculous, it's totally not me, but it's so worth hearing the mumbles and grumbles I've caused.

"Are you playing me for a fool?"

Ooh, I know that tone. "This is my magick, and I will do as I please." I simply retort.

"Do not expect me to replicate that atrocity."

"You can't make an illusion of a heart?" I feign surprise.

He bellows. "You know very well that I can! But I refuse to demean myself for your girlish amusement!"

I keep playing dumb. "Is it because I drew it out with my fingers? Isn't there an incantation for simple illusions? I know there is. You teach blue magick."

"Which is exactly why you know I am overqualified! I have no need to stoop down to your childish antics."

I peek at him from behind my still-beating heart. The look on his face is absolutely adorable! Ha! "I know. But I don't think you can duplicate an exact replica of my illusion. Maybe in size, shape and color. But you can even hear my heart beating! And I can make it glow." On cue, the heart glows a burning red, the thumping intensifies.

"I am not falling for that." He quickly retorts.

"Falling for what?"

"Should I administer detention right here and now?"

"No you can't! You said 'cast anything you like- anything at all'!"

He groans and slaps his forehead. "And I regret giving you that courtesy."

I stomp my foot childishly and pout. "Well, can you do it or not? I can show you-"

"Oh, shut up will you?" He snaps at me.

I will my heart to dissipate as he swishes his wand in a series of flicks followed by some hurried muttering. In a swirling, swelling blob, forms a perfectly even, plump pink heart. I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. He actually did it! I put on a straight face and circle the heart, scrutinizing it. It glows a brighter shade and I nod in approval.

As quickly as he conjured it, he tosses it away. "Has your craving for utter nonsense been satiated?"

"Nope! I'm holding you to your word."

He sighs heavily and exaggeratedly.

An equally genius, yet cliché idea pops in my head. I extend my right arm forward, holding it there, and clench my fist as if it were grasping onto something. Then with my left arm I slowly raise over my back, pretend to pick something up and position it above and adjacent to the other arm, maybe an inch apart. I think positive thoughts, cool, clear, confident, and I imitate the motion for shooting an imaginary arrow from an imaginary bow. I've aimed for the heart, there is a zipping sound through the air, and just like that, a feathered arrow appears, piercing through the silly illusion.

Grabiner looks intrigued, and possibly, amazed. "Astounding." He says under his breath. He walks around the image. "Your powers can be manipulated through imagination as well as emotion."

I shrug. "It's a mixture of both, really. I have to feel something to summon my mana, and then I have to picture what I want to do in my head for it to work. Otherwise the mana doesn't go anywhere."

"So it is more a manner of will, rather than instinct."

"Yeah. That's why when crazy stuff happens, I can't control it. Random energy rushes out because I didn't associate the magick with a conscious thought."

He keeps examining the thing. "But I have observed that your magick responds to the subconscious also. That instance in the dungeon, for example, when you fled from me."

"Y-yes. I didn't necessarily want to teleport. It's just that… I was so stressed, and in that moment, I didn't want you to touch me or talk to me-"

His face goes cold.

"N-no! Not like that. I just. I just wanted to be alone."

"Yes, I understand. You felt hurt, and thus wanted time for yourself, time to grieve. Your desire to distance yourself was so immense that your magick responded to it. And it took you to the loneliest place your mind had stored in its memory. A place where you could enjoy complete solitude without fear of discovery."

A tiny, bricked up room with no walls or windows, underground, in the dark…

"What did you exactly have to feel to conjure an arrow?"

"I just thought positive. I made sure I was confident. I had to be, since I've never really shot an arrow before, I only know what it looks like."

"I see. You are left-handed?"

"Hm?"

"You reached for your quiver with your left arm. Arrows must be shot with the dominant hand."

I nod, surprised that he noticed.

"That method of course, only works with an illusion. Since you have admitted that you are inexperienced with archery."

"Absolutely." I make sure to mention. "It's only an illusion, that's why I hit my target. I can't conjure up any real arrows. Even if I could, I would suck!"

He chuckles softly. "Perhaps I could assist with mending your skills."

"You know how to?" I blurt.

"I took archery lessons as a young boy."

"Did you go to summer camp?"

"I had many tutors. Including those in self-defense."

"What else can you do?" I ask eagerly.

This flatters him, and I have a feeling the best way to get him to talk is to stroke his ego. "I began my studies quite young, beginning in my toddler years. Everything from math, history, literature, the sciences, to music, dancing, archery, fencing…"

A wide smile spreads across my face.

He obviously sees it. "This was all prior to my formal schooling. I engaged in a private, home-education. When I became of age, I attended an academy, like everyone else. Every summer I would resume my studies, but no longer at home. I attended a country club of sorts. A place for the wealthy and powerful to strut about in their finery and gallivant their children around to perform ridiculous tasks, all to prove who had the best breeding." His cocky smile, morphs into a frown. "But that is a topic for another time. Now, back to our experiment." He motions to the rubbery, floating heart.

"Oh, uh… Warmth. Happiness. Erm. Attachment."

"Attachment? To what exactly?"

I panic a little. "Er, a bond. I just thought of a strong bond that I have with someone. You know, so I could make the stupid, girly heart look convincing. The more emotionally impacting the thought or the memory is, the better results you get."

"Memories now?" He asks.

"Ah. Yes." I fidget with my fingers. "Sometimes situations are too extreme to convince yourself to switch moods. You know, when you can't bring yourself to fake it? For example, being overcome with anger or sadness or paralyzed by fright. So conjuring up a memory works just as well in that situation. It tends to work better than coming up with a fabricated thought. It really helps when the mind goes blank and you can't think of anything."

"Is there a difference within your magickal output?"

"Yeah, there is. If the memory is really important to you, it could result in something so much greater than anything you could make up."

"It sounds as if your magick is especially dangerous."

I've heard that for the millionth time already.

"Alright, equip your wand. Now you must attempt to imitate me. As you have informed me that you possess all of the academy material, I will not be lenient." He casts a cool, light breeze, it flitters through my hair in a refreshing way.

I let out a small sigh of contentment. I attempt to do the same, but after three tries, he insists on doing something else.

He then sends a rush of warmth in my direction. I shut my eyes and take it in. I utter the incantation, I flick the wand to shape out the runes, and… Nothing.

He quickly catches sight of my disappointment and begins the next task. To my confusion, he utters words I am unfamiliar with, and swishes his wand in an almost, "musical composer" fashion. I stand, awaiting the results. He stares at me with hard concentration and the subtlest hint of eagerness. This is taking a while. What is it supposed to do?

Then I feel a hand, firm but gentle, rest upon my cheek. I jolt in surprise. It must be invisible, I can't see it, but I feel it! It cups my cheek for a moment, then runs its fingers along my jaw to stroke my chin and vanishes.

I'm left with an obvious blush.

My reaction seems to have left him pleasantly proud of himself. He awaits my response. Nervous, I shakily raise my wand. A couple of seconds of thought, and I look away, annoyed. "I can't do that." I pout.

"I know you cannot. That is not class material. But attempt anyway."

"What are the incantations, are they in English or Latin or-?"

"It does not matter. I will not tell you. Try figuring it out on your own."

What is he playing at? I try coming up with a spell in English, but I cannot fathom what the name of a spell would be for "Let me touch your face, but not with my real hand." or the associated chanting for said spell. "Mmm, your cheek is so soft and plump, I can feel how warm it is. Let me stroke your smooth skin, oh how cute it is that you blush so easily." Nah. I'm not saying that. What about the Latin variant? Um. Well, I don't know how to speak fluent Latin! I know the spells in Latin, but that's because they're in the books. Latin incantations are mostly for the upper tier spells, even though there is a version for both languages even including the baby spells like Breeze. But the older the language you chant in, the more powerful the spell becomes. That is because olde tongues have a stronger connection to older magicks, and olde magick supercedes modern magick. Gah! Now I'm trailing off. I can't do this.

I know I shouldn't try, but to save face, I try to do it mentally. Aaaand. Nope.

"That answers my question."

"What question, did I miss it?"

"No. To myself. Now I know you cannot learn in the same fashion as you do with free-casting. You will not pick up the material as quickly. You require a structured environment, like any other wizard. You need time and practice."

"But that's terrible! Doesn't that mean I'd have to learn the spells all over again? I know them in my head, but I can't physically cast them. This could mean I'll be a whole year behind. Will I get pulled back?" I worry.

"No. We were aware that you possessed difficulty in wielding a catalyst and we did not correct it. That is our fault as your instructors, not your own. The credits you have earned from your previous school year will not be withdrawn, as they were earned legitimately. But yes, it doesn't mean, that if you do not show progress, you will be starting your sophomore year without any magick."

A memory resurfaces. "Oh!"

"What is it?" He asks, very interested.

"Ah. But... That can't be. It doesn't make any sense."

"Tell me what it is." He says in a rough tone.

"I used Sir William's wand and it worked."

"Who is Sir William?"

"Sorry, I'm so used to calling him that. William Danson, sir."

"Mr. Danson? Yes. That imbecilic initiation…" He remembers.

I smile. "You've had enough love letters I presume?"

He groans and rolls his eyes. "Enough for a lifetime. Petunia truly is a sadist at times. She does not bother to inform the freshman that they have every right to refuse such practices."

"You can cop out of Initiation?"

"You possess every right to refuse."

"If only I knew… I thought I'd at least get detention if I didn't participate, or that it would damper my studies somehow."

"I did hear that you portrayed resistance." He says with a smirk.

"Yes, but I didn't want to miss out on my first ritual in magickal school."

He scoffs. "It is more of a game than an official ritual, there are no magickal nuances to the event. It has become campus tradition, however."

"Okay."

"But tell me about his wand. You said that you correctly projected a spell? Why did you not mention a detail as crucial as that to me?" He says, looking annoyed.

"Because it slipped my mind!"

He shakes his head and makes a face of disbelief.

"No, I'm not that dim! It slipped my mind because it was easy to forget. And it was easy to forget because it's not what you think. If I used a catalyst correctly, of course I would bring it up. But the spell didn't execute exactly as it should. That's why it didn't register to me as something important."

"Then why would it cross your mind again now?"

"Sir William was practicing a control exercise with red magick. He was suspending a little ball in the air, up and down. He even made it spin." Professor Grabiner nods in approval, I guess Sir William must be a good student. "It looked like fun, and he explained to me how it works. So I asked him if I could try."

"He was most likely humoring you, I bet. It is not an exercise for freshman."

"Well I did it."

"What?!"

"I did it. It was easy."

He looks at me with wide eyes.

"The ball floated up and down maybe four or five times, but then I felt a small trembling in my hands. I felt it coming from the wand. I knew the feeling was familiar, the wand was rejecting me, like with my own wands. I lost control of the spell and the ball was flung across the courtyard. I didn't break his wand, thank goodness, because I stopped myself."

"But why on Earth would it succeed partially, if you cannot even perform a simple spell at the current time?"

"Beats me. Now that you mention it, it is strange. But it ended the same way. If I hadn't stopped myself in time, I would've owed him some money."

"Yes. Though I am sure he would not be cross with you. He is quite a forgiving individual."

Not when it comes to Sir Damien. "That reminds me of another thing."

"Yes?"

Maybe I shouldn't, I don't need to know. But I think I should… Yeah, what harm can it do? "Um. Do you remember Sir Damien?"

"You are referring to Damien Ramsey." Grabiner's voice becomes very heavy, and there is a low, dangerous growl to it.

"I heard the news of his expulsion."

"Then what is there to discuss? I do not engage in meaningless gossip."

"No, it's just that… I knew him."

This does not ease him like I thought it would, if anything, he looks angrier. "In. What. Way?" He nearly snarls.

"I wasn't his girlfriend if that's what you're asking. No way in hell would I date a guy like him!"

"That is… Not the common reaction." He whispers, astonished.

"I'm the farthest thing from common aren't I?" I shake my head. "He was my Senior during Initiation."

"The one who ordered you to write the love letter, I remember."

"That's him. Anyway, I just wanted to know why he was expelled. The stories have been exaggerated."

"Mr. Ramsey physically assaulted a freshman boy from Falcon Hall. His name is confidential, upon request, and he has since transferred to another academy."

I'm suddenly very aware of my heartbeat, and I feel an uncomfortable cold spreading across my body. I think I'm onto something. "Sir… Was he… Wildseed?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. But how could you know that?"

I hug myself, I'm so scared now.

"What is it? What is happening to you?" Grabiner worries.

"Sir. The attack. Was it..? Was it of a sexual nature?"