Clarisse squinted hard, trying to see anything in her surroundings, but it turned out to be completely impossible. A thick mist floated in the air, making her feel as though she was submerged in a milky cloud of smoke. She lifted her hand and waved it back and forth, wanting to clear the air, but her tactics brought no results and she sighed with annoyance.

Frowning, she took a step forward only to see that nothing seemed to change, even if the mist started swirling around her in various patterns.

"Hello?" she called out, but no one answered.

How could they, if her voice came out in nothing, but a mere whisper? She tried again, this time taking a deep breath beforehand. As the shout escaped her mouth, it got sucked into the void, just like her previous call.

What was this place? How did she get here? And, most importantly, how could she get out? Those questions appeared in her fuzzy mind at once and she decided that standing in one place wasn't going to provide her with any answers. Slowly, Clarisse placed one foot in front of the other, moving forward at a leisurely pace.

It took a couple of minutes of a steady march to determine that the surface underneath her feet resembled cobblestones, but it was the only information she managed to obtain. She still had no clues as to her whereabouts and she started to worry. The mist refused to thin or, even better, to disperse completely, showing her the way to… well, somewhere. Was she even moving forward?

Just like that, an image of her wand popped into her mind and she started to search her pockets. A couple of seconds later, she came up empty handed, as her precious wand was nowhere to be seen. Clarisse's frown deepened, as she realised that apparently she had managed to walk out of her house without the most important object a witch could ever possess.

"How did that happen?" she muttered to no one in particular and stopped as a sudden chill ran through her body.

The mist seemed to shift more intensely, although she had stopped moving completely, simply watching that unusual phenomenon. It spiralled around her, hugging her body so closely, that Clarisse could almost feel the slight pressure tickling her skin, like the most delicate feather.

Just like that, it started to float towards the sky, revealing more and more of her surroundings and she couldn't do anything else, but stare in pure shock at five different cathedrals towering over her tiny person. She recognized each of these buildings, as she had spent a proper amount of time staring at them in the pictures or during inspections of the crime scenes.

She had found herself right in the middle of an empty courtyard, with not a soul to be seen. Clarisse turned around and noticed that the path, which led her to this square had disappeared, its place taken by one of the churches.

"What on Earth…" she whispered and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, as she felt tiny droplets of sweat starting to gather on her skin.

Was she scared? Should she be scared? Before she could have answered either of these questions, all of the doors opened at once, startling her with their squeaky noises and loud shuffling. Her heart started to race inside of her chest, as she spun around, noticing five shadowy figures that emerged from the insides of each church, staring at her with their hollow eyes. They were perfectly visible and yet, she found herself unable to make out their faces.

Suddenly, that familiar wave of nausea hit her body and she dropped to her knees, struggling to draw in another breath. She was suffocating, although nothing seemed to be out of order. The figures started to move towards her and the feeling intensified, leaving her dizzy and unable to fight for her consciousness. Her vision grew darker and darker, until…

"Clarisse!" a loud yell forced her to open her eyes and jump to her feet immediately, breathing as though she had just run a marathon.

She looked around, grasping her wand with her trembling hand, but when she had finally spotted Jacques who stood near the door to her bedroom, she realised that she must have been dreaming. The relief washing over her body was so great, that Clarisse wasn't able to keep a straight face and allowed herself to fall down to her bed and let out a trembling breath.

Jacques' footsteps sounded in the room, as he decided to come near her and make sure she was okay, but he clearly hesitated as soon as he had reached her bed. After a moment of stillness, he lowered himself onto the mattress, putting his warm hand on her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly and she had no troubles spotting worry in his voice.

"I'm fine," she said and forced herself to face him. "It was just a dream."

"One helluva dream, if you're asking me."

"It was…" she started and furrowed her brows as no words seemed fitting to describe the scene she had just witnessed. "I have no idea what it was."

"Since when are you having nightmares?"

Jacques' question made her scowl in response, but her friend wasn't going to let her simply ignore him. He looked at her expectantly and Clarisse felt obliged to offer him a proper answer.

"Few days, I guess. Ever since I returned from that last crime scene."

Of course, she hadn't told anyone about her unusual sensations, but Jacques knew her well enough to figure out that something must have gone wrong. His visit to her modest household proved it.

"Why are you here?" she asked with a frown and he sighed.

"You took a day off, Clarisse," he said. "You never take a day off."

She scowled, knowing that her friend was completely right. She loved her work way too much to even feel the need to escape it from time to time. Unfortunately, even such a workaholic as herself couldn't go days without sleep and the nightmares that were plaguing her made it impossible to get a decent rest.

"I'm just tired. It happens sometimes, right?" she shrugged noncommittally and Jacques shook his head.

"Don't give me that shit. You better start talking, or I will have to force the truth out of you," he said and Clarisse realised that there was simply no way for her to get out of this situation.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes, trying to get them to stop stinging from the lack of sleep, but her effort turned out to be futile.

"Um… You see, I kind of lied when I have told you that my mother wasn't able to translate the book," she started and Jacques gritted his teeth, his usually cheerful face turning completely serious. "She just refused to translate it. Said the book was evil and that I should drop the case altogether."

"Clarisse…" her friend sighed with exasperation and she shrugged once more.

"You know my mother. She's as crazy as they get. But… Something happened when she was about to touch the book. Her eyes went completely black for a moment and then the darkness disappeared. My mother freaked out and told me to drop the case. But not before she gave me this."

Clarisse reached for the necklace hidden underneath her shirt and felt her fingers touch its cool surface. The Merlinite rested between her breasts most of the time, but it never got warm, almost as if it sucked out all of the positive energy out of her body. She pretended not to notice that peculiar fact, but it got harder and harder, the more she stared at it.

The stone looked exactly like every other day; its white surface was covered with many black veins that created an interesting pattern. It didn't shine, it wasn't particularly pretty; and yet her eyes were drawn to it every single time. That necklace gave her creeps, to say the least.

"A necklace? Since when are you wearing jewellery?" Jacques asked with his brows furrowed and Clarisse scowled.

"I don't know. I guess I thought that… If there was even a slight chance of my mother being right, it wouldn't be a bad idea to protect myself."

"Why haven't you said anything?"

"Because it's stupid, that's why!" she exclaimed and shook her head. "I'm Clarisse Bouchard, for fuck's sake, I don't believe in such bullshit!"

"Then why are you wearing it?"

She fell silent and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her thighs and staring at the floor with fury. He had an excellent point, not that it surprised her. Jacques had always been able to sense her feelings and doubts. She didn't even know why, but their friendship was that one relationship in her entire life that seemed natural. They had always understood each other, without even trying to do so.

It didn't surprise her that he was able to tell that she wasn't making any sense. Still, it didn't mean she had to like it.

"You don't know what it was like…" she muttered and forced herself to dive into her memories once more. "You know it's hard to scare me, but that… That was pretty scary, alright?"

"Alright."

His soft reply made her feel tad better, but even still, embarrassment kept flowing through her body in steady waves. She forced herself to look up, only to meet his own gaze that was filled with nothing, but worry. He had no intentions of mocking her, or even undermine her story. He accepted it, just as he always did.

"I started wearing it and I kind of forgot that it was even there. Everything was fine, until that last murder."

"What happened in there?"

"I crouched down next to the body and suddenly I felt that nauseating feeling wash over my entire body. It was almost as if something evil has hit me, making me unable to breathe," she muttered, averting her gaze, as goose bumps prickled her skin. "Ever since that day, I'm having troubles sleeping."

Jacques stared at her for a moment and reached towards her face, tilting her chin so that she faced him. His warm, brown eyes captured her own and she felt all of her defences go down instantly.

"These nightmares… They are always the same. Sometimes I manage to wake myself up and sometimes…" her voice broke, as she remembered that feeling of being suffocated by an invisible force.

"Do you want to show me?" her friend whispered and she nodded after a moment of hesitation.

He smiled gently and allowed her to turn around, so that she was facing him entirely. Jacques cupped her face in both of his hands and muttered an incantation, slowly slithering into her mind. She closed her eyes and focused her attention on finding the memory of her dream, which turned out incredibly easy. Her whole body tensed, when she had found herself in a familiar scene. Honestly, she could have simply talked him through her nightmares, as she had gotten to know them as well as her own name. Still, it was easier to simply let him see for himself, hoping that maybe he would be able to spot something that escaped her attention.

It took a couple of minutes for him to relieve the entire dream and as soon as he got near to that part, where she dropped down to her knees, struggling to catch a breath, Clarisse pushed him out of her mind, not wanting him to watch her powerlessness. She opened her eyes and looked straight into his brown irises.

"What the hell…" he muttered after a moment, trying to even his own breathing.

She smiled crookedly, understanding his reaction completely. Every nightmare left her with that exact feeling of utter misapprehension she was now seeing all over his face. It made her feel a little better, but… Not by much.

Silence enveloped the entire room, as both of them got sucked into their minds, trying to come up with a plausible explanation to this story. Clarisse doubted that Jacques would be able to shed some new light on it, but either way, she let him come to that exact conclusion on his own.

Riss looked at him and bit the inside of her cheek. It was weird seeing him all serious, after getting used to staring at his smile for the most part of each day. His sunny disposition posed such a strong contradiction to her usual demeanour, that she often wondered how the hell did they manage to become such good friends.

She remembered their first meeting as it was yesterday. Not that it was spectacular in any way. It was just hard to forget her first day at the Bureau after she had finished her Auror Training. She had felt so empowered back then, so invincible… Jacques was the one, who made her realise that she had found herself at the bottom of the food chain. Everyone kept treating her like a secretary and he was the only one who refused to do that. That single fact said a lot about his personality. Always smiling, always cheerful, always… Always there for her.

Clarisse averted her gaze, as she felt heat crawling up her cheeks. She bloody hated him sometimes, as he was probably the only person in the entire world who could make her think such things, turning her into a blushing mess. She would never admit it out loud, but Herbert was right when he said that she was different with Jacques. She didn't like it, but there was no denying that fact, at least not within the safe walls of her mind.

"Riss…" Jacques spoke, forcing her to look back at him, hoping that her blush had already subsided. "I think you should talk to your mother."

Oh, hell no! There was no way she could simply go to her house and admit to being wrong. Her mother would probably never stop gloating. Clarisse could almost hear her satisfied voice, cooing that her daughter was a Seer, or something equally ridiculous.

"Jacques, I know I'm sleep deprived, but I think I would have to be half-dead to agree to something like that," she informed him and he rolled his eyes in response.

"You're going to be half-dead sooner rather than later, Riss. Your body needs sleep and you're not going to get much, if you keep having these nightmares. You need answers, Riss."

"Yeah, I do. Trust me, though, my mother is the worst person to answer any questions. She keeps talking in riddles, thinking that everyone understands her just fine, while she's not making any sense at all most of the time," she shook her head and Jacques smiled with amusement.

"You can be just like her, Clarisse," he said and she frowned. "When you dive into your own thoughts, trying to solve a case, you keep muttering to yourself and talking nonsense that leaves everyone completely clueless."

"That's not even remotely similar," she protested, but Jacques just kept smiling knowingly. "I have a very complicated thought process, while she's just… You know."

She waved her hand dismissively, but it did nothing to convince him.

"Why are you so afraid to talk to her?"

Okay, so now he was simply making things up. Clarisse's mother might have been completely bonkers, but she wasn't exactly scary. Besides, she was her mother. There wasn't even a small chance that she would hurt her own daughter.

"I'm not afraid, Jacques. You can't suggest that my mother is dangerous, can you?"

"That's not what I mean. I've met Eugenia and she's a charming woman, hardly aggressive. To be honest, you're much more unstable than her. You have serious anger management issues," he said and grinned at her, while she clenched her fists in anger.

Did he really have to bring that up? Wasn't she feeling terrible enough?

"My anger management issues are the consequence of having to deal with idiots on daily basis."

"Thank you, sweetheart. From your mouth, it's almost a compliment," he rolled his eyes and sighed deeply. "You know what I meant, Clarisse, don't act dumb."

Okay, so maybe she did know. She had already gone through every explanation that was based solely on logic and well… They didn't seem all that likely. Her mother would undoubtedly provide her with something more fitting, but Clarisse didn't really know if she wanted to hear any of it.

"I can't, Jacques," she finally said and looked down to her hands. "I've spent my entire life trying to convince her that she was wrong about me. I'm not a Seer, or whatever she wants me to be. I can't just walk up to her and admit that I'm not… Not normal."

"Clarisse, I have known you for quite some time now and I have never thought that you're normal. It takes one extraordinary person to be a part of an international team at the age of 25, you know," he smiled and lifted her chin, so that she was looking at him yet again. "You're nothing but special. Maybe it's time you've embraced every part of it?"

Just the mere thought of that made her heart race. She was an Auror, for Merlin's sake. A great Auror, who walked the Earth with confidence and a very defined set of rules and beliefs. Her entire life had been a struggle between finding peace with her mother and doing what she had always wanted to do. She had made a choice a long time ago and she had never regretted it, not even for a minute. How was she supposed to change it now, after such a long time?

"It's going to be alright, Clarisse." Jacques' silent voice reached her ears, forcing her to come back to reality.

He stared at her with a gentle smile, which somehow got her feeling incredibly timid. Something about his eyes seemed different. Maybe she was just seeing things? Maybe her sleep deprived mind was just playing tricks on her?

"You're not your mother. Even if she is right, you're not going to suddenly become a different person. Merlin knows that there's not a thing that could force you to change."

Suddenly, his gaze dropped down to her lips and she stopped breathing, not knowing what do to. Clarisse had been in that situation before, maybe not with Jacques, but with many others. She had always let those man kiss her, not caring enough to try and stop them, but now… He was her friend. Her best friend. Why was he trying to spoil everything?

Or maybe he wasn't trying to do so? Maybe it was the right thing to do? Herbert had said it after all, Jacques got her. If there was even a slight chance for her to be in a normal relationship, he was probably her best shot at it. He didn't want to change her, he accepted every part of her, even if that meant having to endure her constant whining and bitching about bullshit.

Before she could have decided, he cleared his throat and averted his gaze with a slight frown gracing his handsome face. Clarisse let out a shaky breath, trying to determine whether she was more relieved or disappointed.

"Talk to her, Riss. You can't avoid your fears forever. Just face them and maybe you'll like the outcome more than you think," he said, his voice not betraying any signs of the tension that was tainting the air just a minute ago.

"Fine," she managed to say and offered him a tight smile.

He ruffled her hair and stood up, preparing himself to leave her room.

"Oh, I almost forgot! I think I've found someone who can translate that book of yours. He's willing to come to Paris to have a look at it."

Clarisse stifled in her surprise at the fact, that Jacques took care of one of her nightmares and said:

"Where did you find him?"

"In the UK, actually. He works at one of the bookstores. Blourish and Flotts? No, wait…"

"Flourish and Blotts," she offered and frowned, when an unexpected thought popped into her head. "Did he say what his name was?"

"Of course. His name is Corrick Leighton."

Clarisse blinked a couple of times and then chuckled with amusement.

"You've got to be kidding me…"

"Do you know him?"

Riss scratched her head and sighed.

"You could say that. We've met when I was in England."

"Oh!" Jacques exclaimed and grinned at her. "Look at how small the world can be!"

"Um, yeah… Out of all the people on Earth, the one person who is able to translate that book is also the biggest blabber I know," Clarisse moaned in despair, while Jacques looked at her with sheer amusement.

"Clarie… I don't think he can beat you in that matter."

"You know nothing, Jacques Colbert," she replied and nodded her head reassuringly. "Absolutely nothing."