Link slammed the book shut in frustration, and added it to the growing pile on his right.
"This isn't getting anywhere." He said quietly to himself, rubbing at his sore eyes and wishing for his reading glasses.
It had been a week since he had first woken up in the alley. Thankfully, his pick-pocketing skills hadn't declined too much and by now he had developed something of a routine. Mornings were spent gathering funds, while Timcanpy, who could be surprisingly sneaky when it wanted to be, pitched in with its self-appointed task of pilfering food from a nearby deli's display case.
Link had been surprised on the afternoon of the first day, while counting his 'earnings', trying to calculate how much needed to be spent on food and how much could be saved for other things (which was made difficult by the need to account for the insane amount of inflation that had apparently occurred), when Timcanpy had dropped an apple and two sandwiches in his lap. He had tried to dissuade the golem from doing it again, citing the risk of being seen or, Walker's personal favorite, getting eaten by a cat. But Timcanpy had just grown to the size of said feline, and grinned smugly. The ex-CROW was still worried the golem would be spotted, but he had to admit, any cat would think twice about trying to eat a 'bird' that suddenly grew bigger than they were, with teeth to match. And since Tim had gotten out of his pocket without even him noticing, it wasn't likely anyone else would, either.
At least, he hoped they wouldn't. It was already stressful enough, having to watch the streets for the cabbie that had given him a ride to the station. He really didn't want to explain what he was still doing here.
Knowing it wouldn't be any safer for a child on the streets after dark now, than it had been a century ago, he spent the first few nights in the station. By climbing a drain pipe to a high ledge, and wedging himself into a corner, to both ensure he wouldn't fall while he slept, and to keep himself as out of sight as possible. Those sleeping arrangements changed halfway through the week, when he discovered that it was far easier (and warmer) to find a secluded corner of the library, and keep out of sight until after it was closed for the night. He had nearly been caught the first time though, before he had figured out that the outside world evidently now had their own version of security golems. Less mobile, as they were mounted to the walls and ceilings, but it still meant he had more than human eyes to avoid.
Any time he could afford to spare was spent at the library, where he was currently, researching a way to return to his own world. And a different world it was, not simply the future as he had originally thought. Or more accurately, an alternate world.
The de-aged Inspector had come to this conclusion after going through a few of the history books in the Pancras Square Library, discovering that several historical events differed drastically from that of his world, and not due to the Order's censorship. As an Inspector, he was privy to both the original events and what had been allowed into the newspapers. These accounts didn't line up with either. Though in a way, he was glad for that, the thought of what the Earl could manage with the help of, not one, but two world wars…
He shuddered to even imagine it.
Which was the oddest part. If the Earl existed in this world, it wouldn't have survived even one, let alone two wars of that magnitude. Not to mention the fact that Japan was a thriving country of humans, rather than an akuma infested stronghold of the Earl. When he had first developed his suspicions, he had even gone to a librarian and asked for assistance finding newspaper articles on unsolved mass disappearances or deaths, for a "school project". Astonishingly, there weren't any, at least not in their limited collection.
It seemed impossible.
Though they didn't happen on a daily basis, akuma caused massacres were the one thing the Order couldn't cover up completely, and they occurred often enough to never fade entirely from the gossip circles of larger cities. Here in London, even if the library didn't have any articles on record, the librarian herself should have heard of one or two stories personally. It was now the Inspector's tentative belief that, for whatever reason, the secret war didn't exist here. Aside from the apparent inexistence of the Millennium Earl, everything else seemed to be the same. Well, as "same" as it could be when it was nearly one hundred years in the future.
He may have found a working theory as to where he was, but the return part was another story.
He had received a basic education alongside his CROW training; he could read, write, and knew enough arithmetic for basic algebra. But this? He suspected this would challenge even General Marian Cross, regarded as the brightest mind the Order had to offer, in both Magic and the Sciences. Even if the reprobate rarely showed it.
A scientist, Link was not. And though he did know the base principles of magic, he was a CROW, not a Magician. They may use the same source, but beyond that, they were two very different practices. CROW magic was designed to be easy to learn quickly, and usable on an instinctual level, without the intense study of complex concepts and calculations required for traditional sorcery. As such, though Link was one of the best, and knew more than most, even he was unaware of the majority of what actually made his spell tags function. It was the reason experimentation was…discouraged, rather strongly among CROW. The results of attempting to invent or alter a seal, when one didn't even know how they worked were… destructive, to say the least.
The blond's search wasn't helped any by the fact that the concept of other worlds, and travel between them, was just as fictional here as it had been in his world. He had been trying his best, with a stack of introductions to the various sciences and a dictionary to his left as he worked through whatever he could find on the theoretical subjects of alternate timelines and interdimensional travel, fiction or non, but he hadn't made much progress.
The ex-CROW didn't have the more familiar route of magic to turn to either, as that was considered even more fictional than other worlds. It was uncommon back home as well, even a library as big as this one would have had at most one or two old tomes of mostly incorrect information. But here there was absolutely nothing. And so, he was forced to continue to fill the metal bound notebook he had lifted from a shop, with notes on the most basic concepts of each science, hoping that they would eventually make sense if he just read through them enough times.
At the rate he was going, finding a way back would take a lifetime, if he ever managed it at all.
Timcanpy poked its head out of its new hiding place, a knapsack sitting at the Inspector's feet, one of the few items he had actually purchased. It made an odd trilling noise and patted his calf encouragingly.
Link rested his head on the table tiredly, and looked over the edge as he spoke,
"I don't suppose you would know anything that might help? You took down the barrier in North America…" he trailed off as the golem shook itself apologetically.
"Right, it could never be that easy." He sighed, before turning to go back to his books.
"I'll have to clean up for the night soon, the library closes in—GAh!?"
The ex-CROW pushed backwards, knocking over his chair as he jumped to his feet in a loose fighting stance, surprised by an older woman with a stern face and dressed in emerald green, suddenly standing in front of his table.
Among Minerva McGonagall's duties as Deputy Headmistress, personally delivering acceptance letters to the year's muggleborns was one of her favorites. It was always refreshing to see their wonder, upon learning of magic's existence, and their excitement. Granted, there was the occasional difficult meeting that took longer, either due to extreme skepticism, or even fear in the more superstitious families. But she hadn't failed yet, and she planned to keep it that way.
Just yesterday for instance, she had visited the family of an inquisitive young witch named Hermione. It had taken an hour of questions to convince them of magic's authenticity, and afterwards, it had been well into the evening before their curiosity had been sated. The meeting had left the Transfigurations Professor exhausted, but looking forward to seeing were the girl would go in life.
Shame she'll likely be one of Fillius's. It isn't often I get someone so eager to learn among my lions.
Currently, Minerva was walking the streets of London near King's Cross Station, on her way to deliver the next letter. She had received the addresses of the students who would need an introduction to the wizarding world from the Quill of Location, before sending it off to address the letters to the rest of the prospective students.
The Quill of Location was a creation of the late Headmaster Dippet, affectionately called the Quill of Acceptance's younger brother by the current Headmaster. It made sending out the year's letters much less time consuming, as she could leave the actual addressing and sending to the quill after she had signed each letter. It was normally very accurate, though there were times when extenuating circumstances confused it. It based the address off of where the child last slept, and so, for example, there was once a muggleborn who spent more time in a pillow fort they had created in their living room, than in their own bed, and the quill had given her an address reflecting that. Normally this wouldn't interfere with her duties overmuch, as she would still receive the location of the house itself, but there were the rare instances, when it gave the oddest directions.
The address it had given her for this child, was one such anomaly.
Mr. H. Link
The Most Secluded Corner
5 Pancras Rd
Kings Cross
London
She was now at the location it had described and was attempting to use a discrete locating spell to take her the rest of the way. Either her spell was having trouble finding the child, or her quarry was moving, as she had originally been pointed to the station itself, but was now being lead into the library down the street. The Professor made her way through the building, weaving through the shelves and up three flights of stairs before the spell signaled her arrival.
She found herself looking into a square area of clear space, framed by tall shelves on each side, with a set of table and chairs set in the middle for studying. Sitting at the far side of the table, was a young boy with two odd spots on his forehead, and blond hair pulled back into a short ponytail. He looked small for his age, though that might have been due to his oversized clothing, which hung loosely on his frame even with the extra material rolled back. He appeared tired and frustrated, surrounded on all sides by stacks of thick, heavy books, absently kneading his temple as he stared at the spread of open pages in front of him. The aging Professor sympathized with the squint in his eyes, which told her he had been at this for some time.
Minerva slipped back behind a shelf, repeating her spell to double check. Even if it was unlikely there was a mistake, as there was no one else around, it was better safe than sorry. She wondered if perhaps the boy was hiding from someone, as she heard him startle at some sound or other in the distance, before her wand tip again blinked green in confirmation. This was indeed Mr. Howard Link.
The boy looked around for a moment, before returning to his book, expression darkening as he shut it harshly a moment later. He sagged in his chair, muttering quietly to himself, and rubbing at his eyes.
The Deputy Headmistress wasted no more time, and approached Mr. Link at his table, reaching it just as he raised his head from its surface.
She altered the mental profile she had been building of the boy from nervous, to extremely skittish, when he gave a shout of surprise upon noticing her presence, and jumped out of his chair, knocking it to the ground. Looking ready to attack or flee at a moment's notice.
"My apologies, I did not mean to startle you."
He forcibly relaxed himself, looking at her doubtfully.
"Excuse my bluntness, but who are you?"
Polite, surprisingly so for an eleven-year-old, was added to the list.
"Of course, my name is Professor Minerva McGonagall, Mr. Link, and I would like to speak wi—"
His tense posture returned as he interrupted her, glaring distrustfully and maneuvering closer to where his seat had previously stood.
"Pardon me, ma'am, but how exactly did you come to know my name?"
"That is part of what I wish to discuss. If you would please direct me to your parents? I believe they would wish to be present for this conversation, and I believe you would be more comfortable with their presence as well," she suggested diplomatically.
He hesitated for a moment, before replying.
"My mother is very ill. As for my father, your guess is as good as mine."
Years of teaching and handing out detentions, meant she knew an evasion when she heard one. This boy's delivery was excellent, but she had spent the last two years interrogating the Weasley twins. He may have had a chance of fooling her before, but no longer.
"Young man, you and I both know very well that isn't the truth. Now, where are your parents?"
He took a step back defensively, dragging a backpack with him, from its place hidden beneath the table. Minerva could tell he was readying himself to run. She took a step back as well, giving the boy more space, and kept her professional demeanor firmly in place, in the hopes of putting him at ease.
"They're both dead," he said, a subtle challenge, watching for her reaction.
"I am sorry to hear that, but I must still speak with your current caretaker."
Though she was beginning to consider that perhaps…
The boy now faintly reminded her of a cornered animal, trying desperately to appear in control.
"I don't have one. I manage just fine on my own, so don't bother trying to get me into an orphanage."
He spoke confidently, though with a tightness to his expression that showed he thought she wouldn't listen. His grip tightened on his backpack, and he discretely angled himself toward the clearest path of escape should she attempt to detain him.
He needn't have worried. Saddened at the confirmation of her newly formed suspicions, Minerva sat in the chair opposite him, and pulled the Hogwarts acceptance letter from her shawl. Setting it in the middle of the table, she pulled her hands back to fold in front of her, and looked at him expectantly.
"It seems we will have this conversation by ourselves then. This letter explains the reason I am here. If you would, please?"
In her experience, children, and people in general, were less defensive when they were made to think they were in control. She hoped that by giving him the option to run, he would be more likely to stay and listen. Though she wouldn't stop him if he did flee, she could always track him down again.
The way his eyes narrowed made it appear as if he knew exactly what she was doing. It seemed absurd that an eleven-year-old could be that perceptive, but if he really was living on his own, and had been for an indeterminate amount of time, it was entirely possible he was.
He slung the backpack over one shoulder, and for a moment the witch thought he would leave, but he stepped towards the table and retrieved the letter instead. He arched an eyebrow at her after reading the address, but broke the seal and opened it without comment. Minerva watched his expression and body language as he read. At first startled, and then confused, eyebrows drawing further together as he read, he even went so far as to read the enclosed list of required supplies and schoolbooks. His face closed off entirely as he finished and looked back to the Professor.
"A school? Of… Witchcraft?" his expression was now unreadable, but his dry tone spoke volumes.
"And Wizardry, yes. Formal words for the entire practice of magic in general. There are several subcategories as well."
She kept her words polite, by the way he had zeroed in on 'witchcraft' specifically, it seemed he would be one of the superstitious ones. Minerva settled in for a long conversation explaining how and why the stereotypes differed from reality.
"Why me?" he said abruptly, "how was I, er, accepted. And you haven't explained how you know my name."
Which was entirely not the answer she had been expecting. It made things easier though.
"Those questions are actually connected. You see, when a witch or wizard first shows signs of their magical potential, an enchanted quill, the Quill of Acceptance, writes their name down in the Book of Admittance."
"This… quill, wrote my name then?"
"That is correct."
"And how did you find me?" he asked, holding up the rather specific envelope.
"Another enchanted quill, along with a particularly advanced location spell."
The boy turned the letter over in his hands, thoughtfully.
"How do I know this isn't a hoax? I've met some crazy people over the years."
Minerva had been expecting this question, she hadn't visited a muggleborn yet who hadn't asked it. Calmly, she removed her wand from her sleeve. Pointing it at the fallen chair, it righted itself.
The blond turned to her, unimpressed.
"That's hardly proof, I could have rigged something that simp—"
"Honk!"
"Gah!"
He scrambled backwards, away from the large goose that had suddenly taken the chair's place.
"What on Earth—How, what?"
The boy couldn't seem to decide on a single question to ask, as he stared at the bird, wide-eyed. Satisfied she had made her point, another wave of her wand and the chair was once again, a chair. His attention was drawn back to her as she returned her wand to her sleeve, and Minerva smiled at the stunned boy.
"Was that a sufficient demonstration, Mr. Link? Please, take a seat," she gestured at the recently transfigured chair, "and we can continue our discussion."
He glanced at the chair again, warily, before taking the seat on the left side of the table instead.
"Alright, you aren't lying."
She suppressed a chuckle at his caution.
"Do you have any questions? That is, after all, why I am here."
The boy stared for a moment, considering, and the stray thought that he would likely make an excellent chess player crossed her mind, briefly, before being brushed aside as he decided on his first question.
"Do you send representatives to all prospective students?"
"Only those who have grown up without exposure to the wizarding world."
He leaned forward slightly,
"World? What do you mean by that?"
"We keep ourselves hidden from muggles, those without magic. We have our own government as well, the Ministry of Magic. In essence, we exist in a separate world. Though a more literal word would be 'Society'."
"I see."
Minerva waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts.
"I suppose my next question should be, what is this school of yours exactly?"
She nodded approvingly,
"Hogwarts is a seven-year boarding school where students learn to properly control their magic, and receive education in the five major branches; Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Herbology. There are also several minor required subjects and optional classes."
"It's a boarding school?" he appeared to be asking mostly for curiosities sake.
"Yes. Students are given the choice to either stay on the grounds, or return home during the winter holidays, and all students are sent home during the summer."
He nodded absently, in acceptance of the answer, before his eyes sharpened as he brought up a point that was obviously of a higher priority to him.
"What about independent study?"
The Transfigurations Professor decided she liked this boy.
"Hogwarts' library is the home of the largest collection of magical tomes in the British Isles, I assure you."
That had definitely piqued his interest. He glanced at the piles of books that still lay on the table, deliberating, tapping his fingers along the edge.
"What," he paused momentarily, almost reluctant, "what is your policy for those who… cannot afford tuition, or materials. As you can see, I don't exactly have a great deal of money to spare…"
She nodded in understanding,
"Fortunately, the school is prepared for such circumstances. There is a fund set aside for those in need of financial assistance. You would have to buy some of the more expensive spellbooks second hand, but it will provide enough for the entire seven years' worth of materials."
The boy nodded to himself, mind apparently made up.
"Then I believe I would like to attend. The letter mentioned an… owl?"
"Ah, yes. Owls deliver our post. However, as Deputy Headmistress, I am in charge of administration and can register your acceptance personally. Do you have any more questions about the school, or our society in general?"
It looked as though he did, but a glance at a nearby clock and he refrained.
"I do, but the library will be closing in a few minutes. I need to return these," he gestured to the books on the table, "and my, ah… sleeping arrangements are somewhat time sensitive. Is there a way I could contact you to schedule another meeting?"
"I believe I may be able to do better."
They hadn't been used in decades, not since the days of Gellert Grindelwald, but there were protocols for the temporary accommodation of students lacking their own. And she could not, in good conscience, leave the boy to continue wandering the streets.
A flick of her wand sent the books back to their shelves.
"Would you permit me to escort you to more conventional lodgings? The school has an old agreement with an Inn near here where you could stay until the start of term in September. The Innkeeper is a good man, and he would gladly answer any questions you might have."
The boy, who had been unconsciously leaning forward in interest until now, straightened. Some of the distrust, which he had never completely dropped, returned, and he gave her a hard, assessing look. If she hadn't had experience with being on the receiving end of the art before, she would have almost thought he was attempting to use ligilimency. His face remained blank, but the way he was rubbing the fingers of his left hand together betrayed his apprehension, likely weighing the risks of going somewhere unknown with a near stranger, against the possible benefits, namely, a stable source of food and shelter.
Finally, he stood, and slung his backpack on fully. Never breaking eye contact, he nodded to her.
"Lead the way."
Minerva could tell that her future student was still wary of her. The entire walk to the Leaky Cauldron, he was careful to always stay at her heel, never straying in front of her, where she would be in his blind spot. More often than not, he was in hers, and even though she couldn't see him most of the time, she could tell he was tense and hyper aware of his surroundings. It was like he expected an ambush. She tried not to think about what might have caused an eleven-year-old boy to become so paranoid.
The sun was beginning to set as they neared their destination, and the boy moved to walk beside her, scanning the street.
"Is something the matter?"
"No… This place just seems familiar is all, maybe I've passed by here before…"
"Perhaps. In any case, we've arrived."
She turned to enter the old pub, and Tom greeted her jovially from behind the bar.
"Why hello Minerva! What can I do fer you this fine evening?"
She smiled in return to the friendly barkeep.
"Good evening Tom, I'm here on Hogwarts business actually."
"That so?"
Her young companion stepped out from behind her, and froze, making a quiet strangled noise that could almost be called a squeak.
"Oh! Hello lad! Nice to see you again. I've been wondering how you was able to see the Inn. If yer here with the professor, I s'pose you must be a young wizard then." He stepped out from behind the counter, and walked towards the duo, "How's yer mum feeling? I hope things have been easier with yer cousin 'round to help."
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. The child beside her coughed into a fist to avoid answering.
"I see you two have already met?"
Minerva sternly told herself that she Must Not Laugh, however, she couldn't quite hide an amused smile. The boy was, she suspected, staring at the barkeeps forehead or perhaps just over his shoulder, in an attempt to avoid direct eye contact without being obvious.
"Why yes, just last week. I gave this young man directions to the train station, I trust you got there safely?" the question was directed to her young companion, who now had his hands clutched behind his back and looked distinctly uncomfortable, though he hid it well.
"Yes, I made it alright. Thank you, for the directions."
"Good, I'm happy to hear that."
The Transfigurations Professor decided now would be a good time to step in.
"Mr. Link, this is Tom Dodderidge, he owns the Leaky Cauldron. Tom, Mr. Link is in need of accommodations until the start of term. I believe the Shelter Fund still has enough for another student?"
The question surprised the old man, who blinked owlishly for a moment.
"Well, yes. It does," he turned a concerned look on the child beside her, "I'm so sorry, has yer mother…? But Isn't yer cousin here lookin' out fer you?"
The boy seemed to have regained his composure, and gave a short bow towards the Innkeeper.
"I apologize for my deception, but I have found that it is generally ill-advised to inform strangers that I have neither parents nor guardian."
Tom's eyebrows rose even higher.
"Ah."
The Innkeeper took a moment to take in the information, reassessing the boy in front of him, but after years tending the bar, there was very little that could phase him for long.
"Well, I won't hold it against you. Though if I may ask, why the train station?"
Apparently relieved at the lack of animosity, most of the tension drained from the young blond's shoulders.
"I wasn't lying about being lost. I know the area around the station, and I knew I'd be able to reorient myself if I could get there."
The barkeep nodded,
"Clever. Though while you're staying here, if you don't want to talk about something, I won't ask questions, but I'd appreciate it if you refrained from any more falsities."
"Fair enough."
Tom smiled,
"Excellent, let's get you signed in and settled then." He reached behind the counter for the guest ledger, "Sign here, if you please."
Minerva noted, with some relief, that the boy's hand writing was extremely neat.
"Mr. Link, before Tom shows you to your room. A colleague of mine will arrive within the next few weeks to accompany you to purchase supplies. They will also assist you in accessing the funds for that purpose. You will receive notice a day prior to their arrival by post. I look forward to seeing you at the start of term."
The boy turned to her, and gave a nod of his head.
"I look forward to it as well. Thank you, for both the invitation, and the assistance." He gestured at their surroundings on the last word.
"You are most welcome. Goodnight, Mr. Link."
"Goodnight."
As Tom lead her newest student up the stairs, Minerva took a seat at the nearest table and waited for the barkeep's return.
A few minutes later, he came back down, a contemplative look on his face.
"An interesting lad, that one."
The professor couldn't help but agree.
"Indeed, he is very mature for his age, both in his judgment and his speech."
Tom pulled out the chair opposite, and joined her at the table.
"It makes sense, considering… ah, well." He leaned back, lacing his fingers together and resting them on his stomach, "I wonder how he could have gotten here. When I was talking to him the other day, he said he was from Germany, but that he had moved around quite a bit."
"Ah!"
"Minerva?"
She waved a hand,
"Forgive me, I had been trying to place his accent. It's different from anything I've heard before, but now that you say that, yes, I can see its rooted in German."
He nodded absently in response. He opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated. She answered the question she knew he was reluctant to ask.
"I'm aware the fund only has enough for this summer Tom, I'll find a more permanent arrangement by the end of the schoolyear."
"I'll take him for another summer after, if need be Minerva." He offered sincerely.
"Thank you, but I'll try to make sure you won't have to."
"A'right. I wish you luck."
The Transfigurations Professor nodded, glancing out the window, and stood.
"I best be going Tom, have a good rest of the evening.
"You as well Minerva, goodnight."
The witch strode towards the fireplace, taking a pinch of floo powder and calling out her office. In the next instant, she disappeared in the ethereal emerald flames.
Once the door had shut behind him, Link let his knapsack slide off his shoulders, and leaned against the dark wood.
"Of course, it had to be the same tavern."
The exchange had been awkward, and the de-aged Inspector was glad it was over.
What is wrong with me, I just can't seem to stay focused… It's bad enough I'm having trouble keeping track of my surroundings with my normal senses, even when this McGonagall woman was using her magic right in front of me, I couldn't sense her Ki without actively concentrating. With the amount of energy she must have been using… just the amount of latent magic she must have in her core, I should have sensed her coming. Even while concentrating on the books, I should have sensed her as soon as she came within a hundred feet, and yet she was able to approach without me noticing. No, wait. Just before, I did sense something. It was faint, and I had thought I had just imagined it. Was that her? But that's still…!
He stared at his hands; so much smaller than he remembered, thin, knuckles and joints no longer as prominent, the callouses were in all the wrong places, and his fingers ached from hours of taking notes.
Is it because I've been changed into a child? He thought of how he had been able to start pick-pocketing again, as if he had never stopped. Have all my skills reverted? But I wasn't able to sense Ki until just a few years ago… if it truly reflected my abilities at eleven, I shouldn't be able to sense Ki at all, no matter how much I concentrate…
The ex-CROW pushed off the door and settled into a CROW training stance in the center of the room, fingers positioned to focus his magic. Slowly, a line of spell strips streamed from each pocket, maneuvering into various shapes and formations. Shortly after, he began to add his own motion, running through the basic form of the CROW fighting style, all the while continuing to direct his spells. He was relieved to find that his control over his seals hadn't degraded, either in precision or, after a quick test, strength. But his physical movements where clumsy, and rough, lacking the ease and fluidity he had earned from years of hard practice.
Finishing the set, he sighed harshly in frustration.
"So my seals are fine, but my awareness, Ki sensing, and ability to fight have all been reduced to almost nothing. Brilliant."
A sharp slashing motion from both arms, and his spell strips returned to his pockets. He sighed harshly.
"It makes sense, those all rely on muscle memory or physical training. With the way I am now…" another glance at his hands, "I'll have to start from scratch." He clenched his hands into fists and glared at them.
At least, now that I don't have to spend all of my time worrying about food and shelter, and a direction to proceed with finding a way back, I'll have time to fix that.
He was interrupted from his musings by the feeling of something landing on his head, and from the golden swirl waving in his peripheral vision, he had a pretty good idea of what.
"Have a good nap Timcanpy?"
The blond couldn't see its grin, but he could feel vibrations, as if it were purring. Link ignored the golem on his head and set about dragging the blankets off the bed, settling them on the ground next to it, furthest from the door. He felt the weight lift from his head, and assumed that Timcanpy was off to bury itself in the knapsack again, but the pushing on his ear said otherwise.
"What is it?"
Somehow, even without a face, the golem managed to look disapproving. The Inspector could only stare back in confusion.
"What?" he repeated.
Tim swooped down and attempted to pull the heavy blanket back onto the bed, and failing that, moved to behind him and pushed towards the mattress. Link sighed and refused to move.
"No Timcanpy. I'm suddenly offered a chance to attend a school of magic, just as I'm thinking that I don't have the ability to make progress through other means, and I'm provided with room and board? Madam McGonagall and Mr. Dodderidge both seem genuine, but this entire situation is much too convenient. After the past week, if I sleep on that bed, I know I won't sleep lightly. And until I'm one hundred percent certain that this isn't some sort of trap, I refuse to let my guard down."
It growled in exasperation, before latching onto the rolled-up edge of his sleeve, again attempting to drag him to the bed.
"NO, Tim."
Even if he really would like to. It wasn't as bad as it would have been, had he still had the body of a twenty-year-old, but the nights sleeping on hard surfaces had not been kind to his neck or spine.
The golem bobbed in the motion Link now equated with rolled eyes, and made a show of landing on the bed facing the door, alert. It then turned back and gave him a look, if that were at all possible without eyes. The Inspector stared at Tim, trying to figure out what it was trying to communicate. The golden sphere deflated momentarily, before again looking pointedly at the door, almost like a guard dog. Suddenly it clicked.
"You'll keep watch?"
Tim looked back at him again, and nodded, slowly and emphatically. Link huffed.
"I'm sorry I don't have Walker's innate ability to understand you."
He continued to grumble half-heartedly, as he regathered the blankets and tossed them back on the bed. The blond removed his boots and the jacket he had tied around his waist, hanging the latter on a bedpost, before climbing into the bed himself. Still sitting up right, he gave a last hard look at the golem.
"If I wake up dead or kidnapped in the morning, I'm going to blame you." He deadpanned.
Timcanpy fluttered up, and pushed Link's head towards the pillow.
"Alright, alright. I'm going."
He lay back into the mattress, and almost instantly felt himself relax, the soft material a welcome relief from the stone and hard floors of the past week. He remained conscious just long enough to feel Timcanpy settle next to his head, wings folding and tail curling around itself, before dropping off to sleep.
AN: Timcanpy is taking over the role as mother hen, haha.
What happens when you mix finals week, an uncooperative chapter, and the discovery of an awesome game for killing time during airplane delays? A very slowly written update, that's what.
With the whole Ki sensing thing, since I'm not entirely certain how that works in canon yet, I decided to make Ki and magical energy one in the same, under the assumption that magic reflects the person who generates/carries it. Kind of like handwriting. As for why he can still use his seals just fine, but can't Ki-sense properly, he can. If he focuses on it. He's just having trouble doing it subconsciously, just like his normal awareness. Don't worry though, it won't take him too long to get back into practice.
I had planned to get two chapters done over break, but here I am, three days until classes start again, and only one chapter to show for it. This one was difficult for some reason, I had to rewrite the beginning several times, and I'm still not entirely happy with it… Also, writing McGonagall's point of view is hard. Not sure why.
I may need to rework my outline… Originally, this chapter was supposed to include Link's first foray into Diagon Alley as well. Obviously, that didn't happen.
Incidentally, Musiverse is an awesome app. You have no idea how long it took me to get ruby rank on Baribari SOUL, in hard mode, while trying not to laugh at the fact that I was essentially listening to HOWARD LINK singing. Shinnosuke Tachibana, the guy who voiced Link in Hallow, also voiced a character named Tomoe, in Kamisama Hajimemashita. I don't watch that show, but I discovered that they have character songs. And Tomoe (voiced by the guy who plays Link), sings one. Baribari 's actually a pretty good song too :)
PSA: If any of you ever decide to explore TVTropes . com, follow the advice that I didn't, make sure you have at least three days with absolutely nothing to do, and room to open lots of tabs on your web browser.
Thank you so much to neah20, geme1, Snow-Nightshade, PrincessWriter123, aliceofbaskerville, and TsubasaKEI for reviewing, you guys are Awesome! And to everyone who followed or favorited (there were a lot of you this time 0_0)
LeapFroggy out.
