4. Strawberry
As promised, Professor Harriet picked me up the next morning. Before we took off, he handed me new garments to wear as my Southern dress up was unfitting to the cold temperatures, not to mention the stench that came off it. They were his, back in the day when he was ‘the athletic kind of guy’. I didn’t mind wearing trousers but the cigarette scent bothered me. Still, it was more appropriate than my dress.
After re-dressing, we walked to the lecture halls.
“I’ve assigned you to my class since you take two of my courses,” he said. For this, I was grateful but too nervous to say out loud, so I bowed instead and he continued talking.
“As a Mage, you’ll reside in the night tower. I understand you need the freedom of space for your experiments. It may sound noble, but is merely a matter of safety and comfort for the other students. Burnt potions have been a complaint for many years. Your floor is the attic loft. It is being set up as we speak. Don’t thank me, you’ll learn to hate the steps.”
In front of a wooden door, he stopped and introduced his classroom. I had a tight grip around the handle when the sound of bells invited the other students inside.
Anticipation and noise spread in the hallway.
My grandfather would have given me a gentle push, as far as I knew. I took a deep breath and entered the room.
All would go well, if I just followed the rules, stayed undercover as a Mage, pulling no attention to me. This time all would go well. But when I scanned the room and found the moon-faced girl in the last row, I knew that my plan would fail, eventually.
I caught her looking at the clouds again and scribbling on paper for a while. Fully absorbed, she didn’t turn her head to either me or other students entering the room.
As the front rows filled up, I made my way upstairs. No one dared to sit beside her, which made me feel sorry for her and secretly for myself since I had always been the outcast.
I laid my bag on the table beside her and stood there, paralysed. In cold morning-light, she was even more breathtaking. Her silver locks held me captive until Professor Harriet’s voice released me from their grip, checking the attendance. And though his class had a manageable amount of participants it took an eternity until he reached the name that had made me curious all night.
“Di Centi, Claire,” he called and the moon-face nodded in return.
While the Professor engaged with the class, I chewed my lips. Sometimes, I caught her staring at me, and she didn’t hide it. Every time it was me who looked the other way, anxious of appearing suspicious.
I wondered what she stared at outside. Clouds? And if so, why she did it with such concentration.
When I looked through the window, I had the chance to appreciate the Northern landscape. The dense woods offered endless shelter for wildlife. The vapour that rose from it moved up and down, breathing. Further, a chain of mountains stretched across the horizon.
On campus grounds, I spotted two crows sitting on one branch. They enjoyed the warming sun until one of them noticed me and sent shivers through my spine by staring at me.
Though the birds were rare, I didn’t like them—they always seemed to know something that you didn’t. Their population was connected to Oracles and as they thinned out, so did the crows. In folklore, it said that they would be the second pair of eyes to the Oracles, that they exchanged whispers of information—but no one was sure how they did it. Seeing two birds, there must’ve been an Oracle amongst us. Perhaps it was the teaching staff, as Rose’s beak suggested. The campus used to be a refuge for them, Harriet had told me. I wouldn’t investigate any further. Sooner or later the Oracle would reveal him- or herself.
On this day, the classes had to go through a series of lectures and presentations held by other Professors while ours avoided it successfully. We relaxed in the park. During daylight, the entire campus was visible from there.
Harriet would’ve loved to start his course but he wasn’t allowed to, and since he didn’t like the activities of the first week, he refused to do anything at all. A small group of eager students formed around him and engaged in discussions anyway, as he couldn’t stop talking when he sensed the demand.
Meanwhile, Claire dozed peacefully under a tree and I couldn’t bring myself to wake her no matter how urgently I wanted to. At least I could watch her from the distance.
Furious, Professor Rose ran across the gymnasium to ask Harriet what he was doing.
“It’s against the rules, Toms,” she cursed, to which he replied by lighting another cigarette.
“All right,” he said, holding the tip with his lips. “Breakfast is over, kids.”
The class returned to his room, while I stood behind and enjoyed the sun for a little longer. The eagerness of the boys to enter the building first wasn’t something I wanted to compete with. While I watched them, I noticed a small chapel. During the night it wasn’t visible and I had assumed it was a blind spot. At the top of its tower, a bronze bell was peeking at us.
“It’s beautiful in there during sunset,” the Professor said and exhaled the smoke. “Never been religious, never thought about changing that but when I look through the coloured windows, it’s something else.”
He beckoned me over to him and laughed, “I don’t need a week to get to know you.”
His tone was off but I liked the way he was, he didn’t expect me to answer. Finally, I was comfortable in a teacher's presence. This time, I wasn’t on my way to receive punishment.
When we stepped into the classroom the giggling
