A/N: I do not own Magical Diary.

"Have you heard what they've been saying?" Neela said with exasperation as she walked with Virginia and Ellen in the mall. "It's terrible!" Virginia shook her head. "You know, I'd have picked ol Grabby to be mean and cranky, but to prey on innocent students? Well...okay maybe a little. But not like they're saying now!" Neela would have chuckled were she not so frustrated. She shook her head. She had delivered all the letters and money to each student and not seen her ex-husband when she had gone to retrieve them. He obviously did not want to see her.

And she was alright with that. Maybe. Alright, it still kind of hurt. Really hurt. Pretty much hurt as much as it did before. But she was out with her friends! She didn't have time to cry!

"I want the biggest cookie that new bakery has RIGHT now!" Neela said with frustration. Virginia grinned. "Wow, for the first time in two years I feel like we finally understand each other!" Neela shot her a playful glare, and then the three of them all laughed together.

It was Thursday. All week, she had studied and taken classes with Potsdam. She had tried, tried beyond everything she could muster, to take something with Grabiner. But she could not do it. She just couldn't yet. And so that was why on Thursday afternoon she was headed towards her afternoon class with Professor Potsdam. And that was when she was stopped.

"Neela!" a voice had suddenly called out to her as it grabbed the sleeve of her robes. She had turned to look and it was a boy one year younger than she was. A boy who had asked her to the ball last year, only to be told she was married. Her heart skipped a beat and she hoped beyond all hopes he would not ask her now. Not now. "Oh, hello.." she said nervously as she looked over to the door she had been about to step into.

The boy looked nervous. "You know Neela, you always wear your hair up in a ribbon, you look..." he paused, "really nice when you're not wearing it. Not that you don't with it but! It's..different, and nice." Neela's face went blank. She had always worn a black ribbon in her hair except on the rare occasion when she forgot it. She hadn't even thought about it for two weeks. Had her mind really been so occupied she had forgotten it? Had she really been so worried and sad about Hieronymous Grabiner that she didn't even remember that? "T-thank you," she spurted out.

"So Neela," he said slowly. She opened her mouth to interupt, to object, to say 'No! Please don't do this!' but he cut her off. "Neela, I've loved you for two years now! I know you had to say no to me before, but now you can say yes!" He declared loudly. Loudly enough for everyone to turn and look at them. Neela stood horrified. And he didn't stop there. "You always helped me study, and had the funniest things to say about everything! I saw you walking down the hall the first day I was here and I knew I loved you! And I've never forgotten you! Never! Now that you're free of Grabiner I beg of you...please, please give me a chance! I won't hurt you and use you like he did! And I don't care that you were married to him, I understand that he made you! I love you Neela, and I always have!"

The whole hall stood and stared. Of course, Neela was the topic of discussion anyway. Now Grabiner's ex wife was getting love declarations? Would she cry and speak ill of her husband, say how she never thought she'd find love after that horrible incident? Neela stood and stared at him in shock. She didn't dare to turn her eyes to the other side of the hall, towards HIS classroom.

Towards the classroom of the man she did love. That had married her to save her life and then stayed with her when she wanted it most. And then who left her to protect each and every student in the school in the way only he could. Tears formed in her eyes. The hall was deathly silent. Why? It shouldn't have been! It should have been bustling and normal. There were whispers, and the boy moved to open his mouth, but Neela got there first.

"No!" she yelled, not even meaning to. Tears came pouring out of her eyes. She covered her mouth, knowing she couldn't say everything she wanted to. Knowing it wouldn't be fair to this boy who truly did love her, or thought he did at least, or fair to the person she loved to put him on the spot. The boy looked immensely hurt. "Why?" he asked painfully. She knew she had to answer, knew she didn't have the strength not to say SOMETHING.

"The person I have loved for two years has just left me. I can't love anyone else until my heart recovers. So I can't give you a chance, or anyone else!" she declared sadly. And instead of going into Potsdam's classroom, she ran back to her own room, leaving a crowd behind her. In the last moment she caught sight of the very man she was talking about. And her heart skipped a beat when she saw the slightest hint of sadness in his eyes too.

'But what do you want?'

The words had echoed with him, like the words of a ghost. Like the words Violet said to him. But Neela wasn't dead, she was right there. He had underestimated her, and underestimated how much she had come to care for him. Her public outburst had left the school buzzing even worse than it had been before. The grumpy old professor and the shining pupil who loved him. It was closer to the truth than they realized, then they'd twisted it with more lies to spice it up.

She was just a little girl compared to him. She was 18, close to being 19 now, and that did not come close to his age. He did not like to think of romantic gestures or make declarations, it was not who he was. But sitting in his room, he felt, was solving nothing. It was simply making him more irritable than usual. It was extremely odd how he could miss her visits, and miss her spirited conversations. He took a sip of his wine and sighed.

He knew what he wanted. He just didn't want to want it.

That's when he noticed someone at his door. There wasn't knocking, there wasn't a voice, but he knew it. The footsteps that had passed by his door always came and went, but these only came. And if he listened closely, he could hear soft breathing. Only one person stood so nervously in front of his door. And then he heard a knock. But he didn't answer.

"Professor.." the ever familiar voice rang out. The word it said stung though, like a slap. A reminder that the one thing he wanted was currently not his. A reminder he wanted it in the first place. And with that reminder came guilt and frustration. What kind of man wanted to be married to such a young girl? A little insolent girl who would have never been in this mess if she wasn't so brash and foolhardy. Foolhardy like she was now, coming here and trying to speak to him when she had run away from the beginning. He was about to answer when she spoke again. "No...Hieronymous. I'm sorry, if that makes you uncomfortable, or upset. I..." she paused for a moment. "I can't say much. It hurts too much, and besides, you might not even be there, so, here," she spoke. Well, he supposed he should give her credit. He was there, but she was too afraid he would be. Afraid that he would reject her. He could tell. She was scared of being rejected by him again.

He never even wanted to divorce her. It had been a necessity. No, he'd wanted to be her husband. And he'd wanted to kiss her when she cried the day he had failed to protect her and ended their marriage. But he was a grumpy old man who'd made too many mistakes. He didn't deserve for her to understand. And it would be wrong for a man well past her age to want to kiss her, or God forbid treat her like a husband would a wife. He said nothing, and soon she was gone. At the foot of his door, however, was a letter.

'I suppose being married to you has not been entirely unfortunate.'

Her eyes had shone then.

'Thank you Hieronymous, but can you say what you mean with a little less sarcasm?'

And he had. He had told her he would like to stay with her as well. And then he had suddenly abandoned her, as if that had all been a lie. He hadn't given her any sort of warning.

He knew then he needed to rectify his mistake before it was too late.

It was Monday, and Hieronymous had begun to think over the steps of his plan. But it was time for his class, and so he had put those thoughts to the side. It was early, so his classroom was empty, but it wouldn't be for much longer. Slowly students began to come into his classroom. He looked down at his book for a moment longer while he waited for the rest of the students, until he heard a pleasant and familiar voice.

"Good morning Professor Grabiner!"

He looked up and saw Neela Peya smiling brightly at him. He was a little taken aback. "Good morning Ms. Peya," he said swiftly. Her smile did not waver. She took her seat in the front desk to the left. He had underestimated her once again, her bravery surprised him. The note she had written him two days prior had been extremely telling and forthcoming, and he had not expected her to come to face him so soon. He was not sure she would face him at all, unless he said or did something first. Thinking back now on the neatly scribbled note, he recalled that she had terrible handwriting. She must have spent hours perfecting that letter and every word in it, which meant she meant it all.

Now, he couldn't get the letter from his mind. He had reached for the letter after a moments hesitation, and had opened it tentatively. The book he had been reading was discarded and he had dissected her letter for the better part of a night.

Dear Hieronymous,

I am writing you to apologize. I did not listen to what you had to say after recent events, and have been avoiding you since. I know you must have noticed. As someone who has given me much wisdom and happiness it was not right for me to suddenly treat you that way, no matter the hurt I was feeling. You have given me the ambition and passion to work harder, and the dedication to become a better witch and a better person. I know you do not believe me, but I will always be grateful I spent the last two years as your wife. And I will always care deeply for you. Thank you for everything.

With love,

Neela

With love. That was just like her, to declare her passionate emotions in a subdued and indirect manner. Then again, that was probably because he did it even worse.

Through the course of the lecture Neela did as she always had. Her hand raised quickly, she asked thoughtful questions, gave thoughtful answers, and did the best she could. And whenever they made eye contact he noticed a light smile she had always given him in the last year of their marriage.

Just like nothing had changed at all in her heart.