𝗢𝘂𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗽𝘁.𝟮

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Simon's POV

I spend some more time moping around my room missing Baz, even though I spent almost the entire day with him. He said he went to hunt and talk to Penelope, so I guess this is the right time to go searching for the Mage.

I drop by Miss Possibelf's office to ask if she has any clue where he could be.

"Hello, Miss Possibelf." I greet, after entering her office.

She looks up from her desk, "Ah yes, Simon. . Where were you all day?" She asks with narrowed curious eyes. "I didn't see you in class." Shit, I didn't think she'd have noticed I was missing.

"Uh. . I felt a little sick—so I kind of, you know, fell asleep." I lie to my favorite teacher, as worry builds up in my stomach.

"Interesting. . Even Mr. Pitch was missing." She remarks, tapping her chin thoughtfully. I can't let her catch on; my hands are nearly shaking, too.

"He. . He punched me. That's why I felt nauseous and slept." I blurt, knowing that I'm putting Baz in a bad spot, but. . . collectively I'm saving both our asses. It's for the greater good, I tell myself. Fuck, I'm such a bad boyfriend! The guilt joins the anxiety that's now twisting my guts. I'm trying to keep myself from gnawing on my nails!

"How could he punch you with the Anathema, Simon? It should've kicked him out." She says calmly, staring directly into my eyes.

"But we were outside our room." Quick lies. They grow easier on my tongue., though my heart races.

"Alright then." She finally gives in. Or at least I thought she did. "Why would he hurt you? I should give him detention for this." She says decisively. Oh fuck. How did this escalate so quickly?!

"No! I mean—I provoked him." I blurt out, hoping she'll get over it. I remember the days I used to spend hoping she would punish him instead; how clueless was I?

"Okay." Miss Possibelf says, moving her braid behind her shoulder. "So tell me why you came? If not to get Baz expelled for once. . ," She asks with a chuckle. And I nervously join her laughter, although I'm pretty sure I sound a teensy bit psychotic, since my stomach is in knots.

"About that. . I was wondering if you knew where the Mage is?" I ask hesitantly, after all this interrogating, I don't think I can answer more questions. Especially not related to my plot that led to Baz and Penny fighting Goblins and Boggarts.

"Oh. I'm not quite sure, honestly." She says in a clipped tone. And I know then that he must be on important business and quite busy if he told her not to discuss it. Too busy for me. . . I'm not even sure why I feel. . So dejected. But I do. And it hurts.

"Miss Possibelf, I need to speak with him! It's official business." I plead. I've heard Baz use the term before and because I feel like it makes me sound more important and urgent, I repeat it, hoping she'll tell me where he is. I plead with my eyes, knowing I'm still her favorite student. (Even if I'm a total failure.)

"He's around Watford only. At the moment. Exactly where, I'm not certain." She answers. "And what business do you have?"

"It. . It's about an attack." I say with uncertainty, because I should have reported it long ago.

"The humdrum?" She asks, worry lacing her voice.

"I'm not sure. I didn't feel the same magickal pull."

"Then what was it?"

"Goblins and Boggarts."

"Boggarts. . Unusual." She says, "But the Goblins were probably only after you. That isn't too uncommon."

I think she forgets how blunt she can be, "Right. After me." It seems like every bad thing here happens because of me. . .

"Well, you are the Chosen One, Simon. Everyone being after you is just. . A result of it." She says, and I think this is her failed attempt at soothing me.

"Right." I say, turning to leave her office.

"Simon, would you take Mr Pitch's extra assignment with you?" She asks, handing me a file. And from years of discerning Baz's behavior (which is quite cunning and unrevealing), I know that she isn't looking for a 'yes', she's looking for a reaction. Something in my heart falls at the slight betrayal by Miss Possibelf. At the idea that she's suspicious and hiding it. So, I give her what she wants. Just not the way she thought she'd get it.

"Oh, Baz. . ," I say distastefully, scrunching my nose. "I guess—umm, well. . I could. But I'd rather not, if it's okay with you. I don't wanna fight him, and that's all he knows to do." I huff. Crowley, I sound exactly like I did in fourth year. A prat. Who was rude and hated Baz passionately. No wonder he called me a dick back then.

"Well, certainly. I wouldn't want you two to get into any other argument." She says, putting down the file and waving me out. She looked a little disappointed with my reaction, and I'm not sure why she wanted to see something else.

I step out and decide to go check the Mage's office for him instead. Maybe he'll be there, even though it's unlikely. He isn't the sitting type. Regardless, I walk to the Weeping Tower and take the private elevators up to his office. Very few mages can get past the spells here; the Mage set the barrier to allow me, though.

Hopefully Baz will be back in our room when I am. I'd really rather be in his arms than do any of this. . .

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