Just so you know: I know nothing about rugby, and I know nothing about rugby seasons in England (I really don't know much about England at all). I don't know if it's played year round, or what. If my accuracy is terrible, I apologize. But in this story, it's in the fall, and it's in October. Whoot.

CHAPTER 10: A REASON FOR RUGBY

Laura returned to school the following Monday with a slight cold, which she attributed to the walk home from Millie's house. The whole thing still made her irritated, so she tried not to think about it much.

She resolved to return to books and studies as if the whole weekend had been without incident. No mention of the party, no more thinking too deeply. It was enough that she had to endure more talking about rocks and dead things. However, fate didn't much care for her opinions.

"My party was the biggest success this semester," Millie chimed down the hall amongst a clambering group of girls, many of whom were joining her for archaeology. "And, as many of you saw, I was the prime conversation partner of the Professor the entire evening. Seemed that he quite enjoyed himself. I think he's going to visit for tea daily now, he was so enchanted by it all."

"Enchanted? Are you serious?" Clara shouted, half upset.

"Well, I mean, that is, as soon as I sort out the details. I'll let you in on it all later, dear, don't worry. You'll be the first to know." She passed Laura, who was intentionally checking through her messenger bag to avoid eye contact. "And you'll be the last!"

Laura looked up." Last about what?"

"Seems you are listening, so listen to this: don't be playing any more tricks like you did after my party. A seemingly innocent walk home with Hershel does not sit well with me, Laura Haris. After all, there's no reason for anyone to fall for an aloof brainiac like you, so you wouldn't want to hurt yourself. Or, perhaps, waste time. He has better things to do than protect you from all the bad guys that prowl about." She scoffed and snorted, triggering a small laugh from the girls at her sides. "What a laugh!"

"That was purely of his own choosing. I barely talked to him; he offered on his own accord. Speaking of tricks, like I said to one of you ladies before: if you're so eager to talk with him, go to his office and maybe learn something." She decided to make them all a bit more bitter than they naturally were every moment of the day. "As I will be doing for the next few days. I want to improve my grades, so I've already scheduled private sessions after classes to work on the material."

She almost busted out laughing from the look of horror on Millie's face, and actually snorted when the rest of the girls turned slowly to view Millie's reaction.

"You're…private lessons? Daily?" Millie sputtered.

"See you in archaeology." She left them all to process her words on their own, smiling as she headed to the classroom.

'Disgusting.'

The days proceeded as she truthfully had said, making her way to Layton's office after her classes were finished around lunch time. She would eat her food (corned beef sandwich, as always), pack away her books and anything else she was looking over during lunch, and then walk slowly to the office, hoping he'd have left a letter stating he was at a meeting or couldn't make it that day. Each day was a disappointment, in that regard.

She would knock softly, wait for permission from within, and then enter the warm office. The smell of a brew of tea always immediately wrapped up her senses, sticking to her clothing and skin; she often smelled of cinnamon and strong herbs upon leaving. Layton would smile, grab the text book from class, go off on some tangent to which Laura would respond and then shortly after request that they begin. A quick apology later, they'd review the course work from class by means of discussion, which turned out to be a lecture on the part of the Professor. Laura spent more time finding pictures in the wood grain of the desk as he'd pepper his lectures with impertinent information that she really had no use for. But she felt bad, so she'd occasionally come up with a question that made her seem as if she was paying attention. Another tangent, another question: formula for success. They'd end an hour later with a cup of tea, courtesy of the Professor, and often he'd ask how her day was going. And it was always one of two answers: "As good as yesterday," or "I'm living," accompanied by a shrug and an attempt at a convincing smile.

One particular day, however, her knock at the door was unheard, as there was a gathering of girls outside the office, Millie at the front of the congregation.

"Oh, Laura, going in for your tutoring session? What do you learn, I suppose? Hopefully nothing naughty that would put a stain on your family name!"

Laura stared at her, already bored. "You're too much, Millie. Yes, really, that's what I do. I'm secretly wooing the Professor. As if I have the energy to bother. And anyway, isn't that what you're supposed to be doing?" Millie squinted her eyes. "You'd better catch up, Millie. I might pounce when you're least expecting it." She smirked, matching Millie's suspicious eyes by reducing hers to slits. "Anyway, why are you all out here?"

"Well, today's puzzle is too hard," Millie said, as if at a protest march. She put her hands on her hips indignantly. "And it's quite stupid, as none of us can figure it out. Who makes and gives out a puzzle that no one can solve? Even Amy can't do it, and she's been solving them correctly for the past two weeks." Amy nodded her head confidently.

"I see. Well, is he in his office?"

"Not that we can see. We've knocked for around 15 minutes, and no sound."

Laura tried to peer through the frosted glass of the office door when Professor Layton came quickly around the corner.

"Ladies, ladies, I am so sorry. I had a phone call in the staff lounge and I lost track of the time." He stopped to catch his breath. "Is there something I can help you all with?"

"It's the puzzle, Professor," Clara said, standing at Millie's side. "It's much too difficult. None of us can solve it!"

He gave a few quick nods. "Ah, yes. That one is tricky. Well, I'll write out a hint on paper and let you all in on it, but I have a previous engagement that I must take care of first. We can discuss it tomorrow in class as well. Don't lose sleep over it. I was loath to give it to you anyway but…"

He opened the office door and tossed around some folders, finally finding his notepad. The girls each tried to get her head in the doorway, catching a glimpse of the study. Apparently, none of them had ever bothered to make time for office hours, something Laura thought would be the most obvious benefit to girls like Millie. After writing a couple copies out, he handed the quickly scrawled puzzle hints to the girls in the front.

"That should assist you well. Share those copies with each other. Any troubles, bring them to class tomorrow morning. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a make-up session with Miss Laura." He caught Laura's eye and motioned her inside. He closed the door and began packing his bag. Laura raised her eyebrows.

"Um, was I not supposed to come today?"

"No, no, you're right in coming by. However, I just became aware of an event today that I'd quite like to attend." He removed his cream sweater and pulled on a rugby shirt over his oxford.

"Well, then should I leave?" she asked, getting slightly perturbed at the lack of information.

"On the contrary. Laura, do you have a warmer coat?"

"I do. Professor, are we reviewing outdoors?"

"In a way, yes. Laura, would you like to go to a rugby game? The Headmaster was going to attend, and I was just now informed, but I felt bad cancelling your tutor session on such short notice. I can lecture on the way over."

"The way over?"

"Oh, it's at Gressenheller University. The boys over there are playing a scrimmage match and I wanted to see how they are fairing this season. Eh heh heh." He checked a calendar schedule on the wall. "Oh yes, this will be quite a match-up. Oh, anyway, the Headmaster would be driving us, if you don't mind. If you would like to go home, you are most welcome." He smiled. Again. It was starting to become something that Laura found herself unable to argue with. She didn't know if it was because it was so annoyingly constant that she was just accepting it to make it go away or…if it was bewitching.

'Black magic…'

"I'll go. I've never seen a rugby match before." She pulled her jacket out of her bag.

"Truthfully? Oh, it's a very enjoyable time. Shall I explain the way it's played?"

She didn't have a chance to answer before the Professor began a long explanation of how the game started, the history of the rules, and how he came to be a fan of it. He looked out the door to see if any girls were still hanging about with questions, and when he saw no one about, locked his office door behind them and started off down the empty hall, his voice reverberating off the walls. His echo had a nice sound to it; it wasn't shrill or harsh as some voices were when they bounced off the walls. After all, too many whiny girls can cause quite a loud whirlwind of an echo.

Laura felt somewhat important, or maybe special, walking down the hall to the teacher's entrance and exit. Professor Layton continued his lecture on rugby, animatedly using his hands to reenact motions within the game. Although she knew nothing about it, his story was somehow compelling, as if she was a part of the history of the sport. She decided it was much better to learn histories and archaeology one-on-one rather than falling asleep on a textbook or jotting down notes, lost in the sea of equally bored students.

He stopped in front of the Headmaster's door.

"Seems he's already outside."

They walked out to the parking lot, the Headmaster spotting Layton and waving.

"There you are! Thought I'd lost you to work, yet again." He laughed, slapping the Professor on the back when he approached the car. "Brought a guest, I see! None other than Miss Haris."

Laura shook his hand and smiled. "How are you, Headmaster Ginlade?"

"Quite well! So I see Professor Layton has backed out of his teaching duties, is that right, Miss Haris? Ahha!"

Layton chuckled. "I told her I'd lecture on the way there."

"Like hell you are, Layton! I'm talking rugby in my car. Rugby, and nothing else. Hop in, Laura. It's unlocked. Excuse my language. I might slip."

It was as Laura knew it would be: she took her spot in the back, behind Layton in the passenger, and stared out the window, listening slightly to the two men go back and forth about rugby related things. There was no semblance of archaeology, which Laura was grateful for, but at the same time, she felt nervous. She had nothing to talk about, and felt like a third wheel.

Professor Layton turned his head slightly toward the back. "Are you doing alright, Laura?"

"I'm fine, thank you."

"We're just about there. Make sure your coat is on. It'll be cold out there after a few minutes."

She doubted it. It felt like a sauna in the Headmaster's car. She silently disliked leather seats, as hers was making her sweat.

But after standing in the middle of a grassy field for five minutes, she regretted leaving her jacket in the car.

'I'm such an idiot! I should have just brought it, regardless of whether I'm usually warm or not. Blast it all….'

"Laura, I thought you had a coat!"

"Well, I'm usually warm so I left it in the car. And I was sweating buckets in there, so I wasn't too keen on carrying the thing around…" She rubbed her hands together quickly, not too happy with the amount of heat (or lack thereof) she was getting from the friction. "It's my hands and ears really."

The Professor removed a sweater he'd put on over his layered shirts, and handed it to her. "Here, that should help a little."

"No really, I am fine. I can manage." Although she desperately wanted to bury her cold hands into it, her irrationalities got the better of her. She hated others' garments. She knew dead skin cells and sweat somehow wove their way into the fabric of clothing; she couldn't prove it, but somehow….

"I really do insist you wear it. You've been shivering non-stop for the past five minutes. And here." He took off his hat to remove a pair of earmuffs that Laura hadn't even seen him put on. She then realized she'd never seen the Professor without a hat. Admittedly, she always thought him bald, even though she had no reason to think so, but instead he sported a normal amount of soft brown hair. She felt the pair of earmuffs reach her fingers as she attempted to hide the fact she'd been staring while thinking.

"Well…" She looked at the muffs apprehensively, up at Layton, then back at the earmuffs again. "I…er…"

He looked at her, puzzled. "Is something wrong?"

"This is going to sound either really snooty, or really strange—or both—but…I have a sort of complex when it comes to wearing other people's clothes and accessories." She fingered the earmuff band delicately. The Professor laughed.

"You could have said so in the first place. Come, I'll get your coat from the car."

"But, I could forego my idiosyncrasies for the time being and use these." She slipped the sweater over her head and pulled the muffs over her ears, cringing.

"Are…you sure?" He laughed softly.

"It's much better than making you go all the way back to the parking lot because of my own stupidity."

"As you wish. You seem to always put your preferences aside for the sake of the other person. When do you think of yourself?"

Laura thought a moment. Perhaps it was only half true, but she did always find herself being the subservient one. It wasn't because she was a stepping stone, she just felt others shouldn't have to suffer because of herself.

"I think of myself when I most need it, I suppose." Crossing her arms, she stared out across the field, watching several large college-age boys get ready to start their match. She had no idea what was ensuing, but it seemed like a waste of time. The Professor and Headmaster were getting something out of it however, the former smiling all the while and muttering things under his breath while the latter roared and punched the air multiple times. Maybe it was just men, Laura wondered.

She kept smelling something new about her, something fresh continuing to fill her nostrils as the breeze swept past. Then she realized it was the sweater. It had the Professor's scent on it. Instantaneously she felt the same twinge that she experienced back at Millie's party, but this time it was cemented into her brain by the sense of smell. Each time she breathed in deeper, the same intoxicating sensation filled her brain, creeping along her limbs. She wrapped her arms tighter about her.

'What a comforting feeling. It's like there's no wrong in the world!'

She felt herself smiling stupidly, but not before Layton noticed.

"Enjoying yourself, Laura? I suppose it might be difficult for you to understand, not seeing a game before."

She looked over at him, carefully trying to discern whether he saw her looking like a loon. Perhaps he thought she was merely watching the game. "Well, it's quite hilarious."

"H-hilarious?"

"Oh yes. It's quite silly, watching these boys slam into each other, especially with little to no protection. That in itself makes no sense."

"When you put it that way, yes, it's really no fun to watch. But the strategy, the battles being waged. That's the fun in it!" He eyed her carefully. "I'm surprised you never watched a rugby game. Does your father watch sports?"

She shook her head. "Not particularly. He occasionally checks in on what's going on in the soccer world."

"Any brothers?"

She watched a pair of players slam into each other, the force sending both of them flying backward, one sporting a broken nose, the other a twisted arm, neither of which phased Laura but caused the audience to audibly cringe and groan with sympathy pains. She looked past the physical wounds and only saw a blur. Layton moved his head to look at her straight on.

"Laura? Are you okay?"

She blinked. "Oh, oh yes. You asked if I have brothers. I have no siblings. It's only been me for… It's only been me." A familiar burning filled her nostrils under the bridge of her nose. She knew how to stop it when she was alone, but in a public setting? She looked at the sky.

The Professor put a hand on her shoulder. "Is there something the matter? You're…you seem to be behaving oddly."

"I'm just having a bad day, that's all. Is there a restroom nearby?"

She didn't listen to his answer, and instead started walking away from the cacophony of the game, not caring where she was heading. There'd be a private place somewhere…

A hand was placed on the middle of her back and gently turned her towards a large brick building with matching large doors. She glanced to her side and caught the dark green and yellow of a familiar rugby shirt before pressing through the entrance of the place. Several students dressed warmly in scarves and wool hats much like the Professor's walked past.

"The women's washroom is just over there," Layton said quietly, pointing toward a dimly lit corner. Laura nodded and raced quickly to the door, pushing into it and rushing to her own stall.

She had blown it. She revealed another secret. He could sense it, he knew. Something was amiss. And he sensed it.

'Damn him, damn him to hell! He's always around, I don't want him knowing anything! Why him of all people? Him and that smile, that stupid smile, that stupid smile that just never goes away. He's always so happy, how can he be so happy? I hate it!'

Laura clenched her hands into fists, her nails threatening to cut into her dry palms. She felt her skin stretched across her white knuckles, her biceps straining. No tears, she told herself. None. No tears, no more.

'You promised yourself! You promised!'

"You promised!" she spat, her eyes boring holes into the brick wall. Giving in, she placed her palms to her eyes, trying to push back in the tears. Her breathing became ragged until the door to the bathroom opened and someone else took the stall next to hers. She rubbed her eyes, walked out and to the mirror. She'd just look at the floor the entire time, she decided. He won't notice…

"Is there something bothering you, Laura?" Professor Layton asked as soon as she'd returned to the middle of the wide corridor outside the bathroom. The tone in his voice was urgent and tense, very much different than the usual soft and cheery one. She looked at the floor and shook her head, folding her hands and holding her arms loose in front of her.

"Let's return to the field." She made towards the door but was stopped abruptly, the Professor's hands on her shoulders.

"Laura, you do realize that I have to keep anything you tell me confidential. It's all private. You can tell me if something's going on. I won't stand to see a student suffering." He used the word the Headmaster had uttered, still confused about why he'd used such a word.

"I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because I'll cry."

"Well, I-that's-I didn't expect that…"

"I'm sure that'd make you very uncomfortable, so…I have to hold it in forever. Because…because no one will…" She sniffed loudly, trying to prevent any mucus from leaving her nose. Putting her nose to her hand, she contorted her face, doing her best to hold back any unruly tears.

"Come."

She didn't know how long it had taken to walk all across campus, through several corridors and buildings, nor did she care. She hadn't paid attention to directions or routes; she merely let her teacher lead her wherever it was they were heading. She sobbed uncontrollably into her hands, the arms of the sweater reaching several inches past the ends of her own arms. The cuffs of the garment were soaked. She'd have to apologize and clean it.

"Take a seat."

Laura sat in a rather plush arm chair at the direction of the Professor. She looked around at the room they had entered. It was much bigger than the office at Grissom's, but she recognized it right away as Professor Layton's Gressenheller office. The sheer amount of books (on the shelves as well as scattered about the room), the placement of ancient artifacts, and the smell of cinnamon and herbs filled the air. It had to be his office.

Layton handed her a handkerchief, smiling, but with an air of concern.

"Is there anything you'd like to confide in me, Laura?" he asked quietly. The office door opened slowly, a short elderly woman with a kind face walking through.

"Here is your tea, Professor." She handed him a tray, smiling at Laura. "Poor dear. I made some hot for you also, Professor."

"Thank you, my dear Rosa." Rosa left, closing the door behind her. "Here, Laura. I had her make you some cold tea."

Laura took the cup carefully after pushing the sleeves of the sweater up her arms. "Thank you." She stared into it, wishing she didn't look so forlorn. Layton pulled up a similar chair to what Laura was sitting in and sat directly across from her.

"Now, then, I'd like for you to let me in on what is going on in your life, if you would. I know that sounds a bit nosey, but you haven't been yourself lately. In class, in my office. I'd like to know if there is something I could do to help."

She shook her head. "It's nothing. It's only…my own personal demons."

"What demons, Laura? Is something happening at school? Are you being threatened?"

"No."

"Are your classmates bullying you?"

She couldn't take the interrogation. It wasn't something she cared to be doing at the moment. She looked at him with an angry determination.

"You know, I really don't see why you even care. This is college, not some elementary school counseling session. I don't see why you bother to have me come to your office and learn the material over again, I don't see why you are asking me such questions right now. It's really none of your concern!

"Well, you are right in saying-"

"What are you trying to gain?"

"I merely wanted to-"

"Look, if you are going to use me like everyone else tries to, then you have another thing coming. I'm not getting perfect grades just to make the college look good, I'm not improving my archaeology grade just to make you look good. I'm done being you educators' billboard poster child for unheard of talent. I'm done hearing all of that."

"Laura, I'm not trying to gain anything."

"I just want to be left alone!" she shouted, grinding her knuckles into the seat cushion. "Can you understand that, Professor?"

He sat in his seat, looking into her eyes, trying to decipher what was going on in her head.

'I'll just prod a bit more. Even if I regret it, I'll also regret never trying, never knowing.'

"I can understand that, Laura. But I can only understand completely if you work with me here. I'm trying to get a better grasp on the situation. Obviously, something isn't right. I want to know what it is."

"To gain something?"

"No. No gain at all."

"Then what's the reason?" She crossed her arms, wide brown eyes drilling into the Professor's astonished ones.

"Honestly, Laura, what do you think I could gain? I'm only trying to help you. It's…it's this problem I have, with trying to solve the world's problems. I come across things that aren't right, and, well, I want to make them right." He sighed. "That's my honest answer. As my student, I want you to grow and learn. And be happy."

She sat quietly for a moment, analyzing his reasoning. Her expression softened.

"I'm very sorry, Professor. I'm just used to everyone trying to get something out of me, I figured you'd be doing the same thing. I honestly have never been asked to share my thoughts before."

"Laura, you're always welcome to give your thoughts and opinions."

"No, you don't understand. There's quite a bit you don't understand. But for the sake of time, I'll let you know why I seemed to…break down back there, at the field. Which, by the way, I'm very sorry you are missing your rugby game."

Layton laughed heartily, startling his student. "I forgot why I was even back here at Gressenheller in the first place. Go ahead."

Laura took a huge, cleansing breath, her eyes filling with tears. "I apologize, I have a problem with crying, with showing emotions."

"No more apologizing. You have nothing to be sorry for."

Nodding, she smiled. "I actually have been to a rugby game before. I lied. I'm sor-I mean-well, I am sorry."

Layton nodded. "I could tell as you watched. Your body language spoke volumes. I could tell you were anticipating certain movements on the part of the players."

"I don't like rugby. I wasn't going to go with you, and I wanted to say no to your offer, but… Internally, I was fighting myself."

"You didn't have to say yes. My feelings wouldn't have been hurt."

"It's not that."

"Then…?"

She closed her eyes. "My brother, Liam, loved rugby. He didn't know all the rules, but he loved it. He died when he was five. It was five years ago, September 28th."

The Professor's eyes widened considerably, his mouth slowly falling open. "I…I never knew…"

"No one does. I don't tell anybody. My parents don't even talk about it, ever. It's as if he never existed. He had leukemia. There's nothing they could do."

"Oh my God, Laura, I'm so sorry."

She shook her head. "There's no sense in being sorry. The most you can do would be just to understand that he was everything to me, my brother. We were seven years apart, but we did everything together. He loved rugby, and he loved the piano. He's even buried with a rugby ball and his favorite song on sheet music. I'd throw him the ball outside, and he'd listen to me play piano inside. We never left each other's sides. We were like twins, but seven years apart. Although he was young," she wiped her eyes with the sweater sleeve, "he was the only person who ever understood anything going on. He was pure innocence, raw kindness. He was brutally honest, but never hurt feelings. He was very wise for a young boy. I loved my brother dearly."

Layton nodded, his eyes somber. "I can see why," he said softly.

Laura sniffed, her voice breaking. "Ever since he died, I never felt loved again. I never had friends, and my parents are nothing more than slight caretakers. They provide no support for me, nothing. All they provide for is what they think is best, such as financially for my education."

"I'm sure they do what they think is the best for their child, Laura," the Professor tried to convince her.

"If you say so. Regardless, I can never make friends. I know I'm very different and awkward. It doesn't bother me any, but I'll never get over the fact that my best friend will never come back. Ever since he died, it's been a daily battle against the world. I'm again on my own." She cleared her throat, attempting a smile. She looked up at her teacher. "That's why I blurted out in the hallway a couple of weeks ago, and why I felt ill."

He gasped. "Oh yes, that was the 28th wasn't it… Oh, I'm so sorry, Laura. I had no idea."

"I have been like this for the past five years. For about two months after the anniversary of his death each year, I can't seem to shake any negativity off. I like being alone, but when I think about when he was here, and I compare, I get very lonely. I…I really don't know why I'm telling you all of this. I've never told anyone any of this."

He chuckled and put a strong hand on her shoulder. This time, it felt warm and reassuring. "You might struggle later with whether or not you should have told me anything, but I honestly and whole-heartedly believe it was for the best, meant to be, if you will."

She nodded, grinning. "Yeah, I probably will beat myself up over it later." She managed a laugh, genuine as the Professor saw it. He felt his face get warm for some reason, and attributed it to holding a cup of hot tea.

"Well, I think I should go and explain to the Headmaster why I left in such a hurry. I'll just say you needed to use the restroom and then I got to talking about the exhibits in the corridors. He'll understand." He stood up, setting his tea on his desk. "Poor, Rosa. I asked her for tea, but it'll have to wait until later."

Laura took two swigs from her cup and sat it on the desk as well. Standing, she noticed the dark wet stains on the sweater. "Oh, um…I'm sorry for the sweater, Professor. I cried a bit into it…"

"It's quite alright. It's merely my favorite sweater that really shouldn't be getting damp as it's dry-clean only."

She took in a sharp breath, worried. "I-I'm so sorry! Oh, now I wish I had never put it on! I knew I should have-" She stopped as he laughed loudly.

"Just a joke. It's pure cotton; it's perfectly fine. You can return it to me tomorrow morning," he said with a wink. Laura felt her face redden with embarrassment. "Well, shall we return to the field?"

As they were walking down the corridor, he made a mental connection.

"Is the reason you don't like to play the piano because of your brother?" Laura nodded reluctantly.

"After he died, all I did was play. It was like he was still there. I did that for a year. Often I played for over 24 hours straight. Since then, my father forbade me to ever touch the instrument again. Since, I've both yearned for and despised the piano. I play on it once in a great while, but I never am allowed to play on it as often as I used to. My father said it's detrimental to my health."

Layton hummed in acknowledgement. "Do you think you could honor your brother by allowing others to enjoy your music as he did, instead of keeping it to yourself?"

The words hit Laura's ears with deafening logic. "I guess I never thought of it that way."

"I honestly do not think your brother would agree with you keeping your talent to yourself. After all, you chose to share it with him, because he loved it. How are you so sure no one else would love it in the same way?"

"I'm scared someone will want it for selfish reasons, as my father has in the past. I don't want to make profits off of my talents."

He nodded. "Maybe so, but there will be others who will cherish the sound for the sake of itself, and in admiration of your skill."

Shaking her head, she laughed half-heartedly. "I don't know why, or who would do such a thing."

The Professor opened the door that led to the outside. The players were visible on the field, ready to play for the final 10 minutes. "Well, myself of course!"

Laura looked at him, confused. "What?"

"I would do such a thing. I've never heard a better pianist. Truly love at first listen. I think you have monstrous talent. And I think you should embrace that, and let others embrace it as well. So to answer your question," he tipped his hat forward, "I'd do such a thing, and love your music."

The game got closer as Laura walked alongside her professor, following him right up to the sidelines. The Professor began chatting with the Headmaster as if nothing had ever happened, as if he never left his side. Headmaster Ginlade obviously had been yelling, for his voice was hoarse. He croaked something about running to get a drink and hurried away, his cape flowing behind him. Layton shook his head. He looked over at Laura until she glanced up at him. He smiled.

Amidst the screaming fans, raucous cheerleaders, and all the other typical sounds present at sporting events, it was a smile that spoke louder than any words could have. Laura looked at him quizzically, at first giving him an awkward grin, then returning a silent smile, feeling the all too familiar twinge inside her.

But that was one secret she definitely wasn't sharing.