Andrea found Mr. Pennyworth waiting for her on the pathway back to the dorms, drawing looks from her friends and others alike.
"Is… is that an invisible man?" Zoya asked, leaning closer as if that would help. "No, wait… he's made of pure magic…"
Andrea frowned and turned to look at the invisible man immaculately dressed in a butler's attire, her eyes straining to see the faintest of magical outlines. It was not that she could outright see him—her precision over her magic still sucked too much for that—but rather that the things around him told her he was there.
Andrea sighed and handed her school bag to Valerie. "If I'm not back before dinner, save me some Shepherd's Pie."
Valerie took the bag absentmindedly before frowning. "Oh, fuck off."
But by then it was too late; Andrea was walking side by side with Mr. Pennyworth, trying to move as quickly as possible so as to not be seen by any more of her classmates. She got into the front seat of the Cadillac quickly before Mr. Pennyworth went around to join her. "Long time no see, Mr. Pennyworth," Andrea exclaimed now that they were out of sight of her peers. She surprised him with a quick hug—that made him blush, she decided—before he made the engine purr to life. The drive was not that long, as she spent it recounting her first month at a magic college away from her mother and friends. Mr. Pennyworth—for an invisible man—was an amazing listener who reacted on cue time and time again.
She was yapping now, her nerves getting the best of her as they approached the giant home on the top of the hill. Eventually—after having spoken Mr. Pennyworth's invisible ear off—Andrea arrived outside the home she had been quickly thrown out of earlier before. Well, that's not really fair, she thought, waiting for Mr. Pennyworth to come and open her door. According to him, he was hiding me from… somebody.
So much had happened since that Andrea had barely spared a thought for the mystery man who had made even Julian shake, but now that she was back here at this manor, her mind drifted back to when she felt like her body was being torn apart. Andrea gulped and followed the butler into the house, which looked exactly as she remembered it: classy and expensive. She followed Mr. Pennyworth down the hall that led to the room she had almost died in, where he left her by the door. He gave her a deep bow before laying a reassuring gloved hand onto her shoulder, and leaving.
"Okay," Andrea said in the midst of taking a deep breath. "I'm gonna go in there, talk my shit, and not be overwhelmed by him."
Easier said than done…
She hesitated a moment before knocking loudly on the door.
"Enter," she heard him say, and the sound of that deep, accented voice had her shook already.
She took one more deep breath before opening the door to find Julian seated behind a large, dark-wooden desk. In his hands were sheets of paper, and the one in his right hand occupied all of his attention. His black hair was as curly as she remembered; the sides contrasted the black top of his scalp, by being a mix of grey and white.
His eyes were covered by his shades—an expensive-looking pair of glasses that he seemed seldom parted with—which sat upon a nose that was slightly crooked. His jawline looked sharper than she remembered, and his cheekbones—high and regal-looking—were, in contrast to the jawline, just as mesmerizing as she recalled.
"Good afternoon, Andrea," he said, placing the paper down on the table before standing and approaching her. "I hope that you are well?"
She squirmed before nodding. "Can't complain… and how are you?"
He stood over her, an overwhelming presence that made her feel like such a child. Julian was a massive man—someone you'd sooner see dressed in pads and a helmet than a navy-blue suit, someone who looked like a retired Hall of Fame line-backer instead of the school headmaster he was.
"I am well, thank you," he said before raising an eyebrow. "Can't complain, you said? Then why is your mother bombarding my phone with threats?"
Andrea looked anywhere but at him and shrugged. "Maybe she just wanted to threaten you. Have you ever considered that?"
She then turned up her nose and folded her arms. "In case you haven't noticed, she doesn't like you much."
He seemed to consider that point before gesturing toward the chairs next to his desk. "Her threats certainly convey that message, yes. Please, sit."
Andrea did as instructed and was thankful that he was back to focusing on the sheets of paper in front of him. There was an awkward silence that demanded she fill it, and so Andrea said, "So… I heard you were away…"
Julian nodded. "The rumours are true—I was away handling some urgent business."
She pulled a knee up. "Cool… cool, cool, cool. Anything worth writing home about?"
Julian looked up at her in confusion before nodding. "Ah, a common saying. I thought you were genuinely asking if I written a letter about my adventures and sent it back to my own home."
Andrea shrugged. "I mean, seems like something you'd do. Writing letters, I mean, not—"
"Andrea," he said, cutting her off as he placed the sheets back on the desk. "I called you here to ask how your studies are going."
She snorted. "Like you care. Momma had to threaten you into giving a damn."
He sighed before sitting back in his chair. "I am sorry that you feel neglected, I wish that things were different. But matters of interest have arisen, and they demand my attention."
"Headmaster matters?" she asked.
"No," he said, and after another bout of awkward silence he cleared his throat. "There are… movements from forces that we once thought vanquished."
Andrea raised an eyebrow and put her foot back down.
"Forces once vanquished?"
"How are your studies coming along?" he asked again, and Andrea sighed.
"They're coming, I guess. The practical stuff is… difficult, but I have the theory down somewhat."
She smiled and looked away again. "Our little lesson back in the carriage has been helping me a lot, even now. You should have been a teacher—I think you would have been a good one."
"Practical in what sense?" he asked. Andrea sighed again and shrugged. "I'm not getting the grasp of elemental magic much," she admitted, feeling a little embarrassed. "I made a flame, once, I think, but things like water, earth, and air? Forget about it."
Julian stared at her blankly for a moment before speaking. "Okay, and what of the Bodily Magic class?"
"Uhm… I can shroud pretty decently, I think, but I'm not good at seeing the flow of magic, so…"
Andrea threw her hands up in the air and snapped. "Okay! I suck, Julian! Is that what you want to hear? I suck at all the practical stuff, and first assessments are right around the corner. Could you please help me instead of sitting there and judging me?"
"Help you?" Julian chuckled. "You have no idea how much I've helped you already."
Andrea met his chuckle with a snort. "Oh, thank you so much. I get thrown into a college where if I'm in the bottom ten percent, I fucking die. How does that help me?"
"When you are in the bottom ten percent," Julian snapped, his words striking like a copperhead. "You still have a chance to pull yourself out—an entire week of last chances to make up the points you need to survive. A new rule, implemented to save you."
Andrea felt her eyes begin to burn. "And you think that's helping?" She heard somebody laugh. "You've written me off like a bad debt! Instead of sitting with me and actually teaching me, practicing with me, and making sure I don't get thrown in with the defectives, you'd rather give me another week to do what, Julian? To fail some more?! One last week of fuck-ups before I die?"
"Welcome to the world, Andrea!" he shouted, and it was the first time he had ever raised his voice to her in genuine anger. "The weak die here. You truly are a wonder, do you know that? I have lived nigh on two centuries and have never stumbled across someone blessed with a powerful bloodline, but is cursed with being so—"
There was a knock on the door, and the sound of it pulled Julian out of his anger, returning him to his usual stoic self. Andrea wiped at her tears as he cleared his throat. "Enter."
"Jules," a sultry voice said, and Andrea turned to see Drusilla Nerva enter the room. "I found your butler carrying this on the way to—"
She stopped when she spotted Andrea, and her growing smile quickly transformed into a frown. "Andrea, what a welcome surprise."
She hoped her eyes weren't red as she forced a smile onto her face. "Hi, Mrs. Boniface."
She put the tray of food on the cabinet near the door and walked toward the desk. "Andrea, if you could give me a moment with my brother, I'd really appreciate it, my dear."
Andrea stood up, and before she left, Drusilla placed a strong hand on her shoulder. "Do not go too far, my dear," she said, giving Andrea a smile worth a thousand stars. "I mean for us to have a chat—just the two of us girls."
She found Andrea sitting on the stairway, her chin buried in her hands.
"A bad posture is not very ladylike, Andrea," she said, gesturing for her to join her outside. Andrea followed obediently, and the two walked to Mrs Boniface's car. The vehicle was a vintage, expensive-looking Porsche, made in a model that was foreign to her but looked like something that could cost an arm and a leg.
"It was a gift," she said, moving to open the front door for Andrea to get in. "From my daddy. After I'd gone and wrecked my 356, Daddy had sworn off getting me another car. The thing had cost him almost $4,000."
Andrea got in and waited for Drusilla to join her in the car, which smelled of lavender.
"Sorry," Andrea said. "But you're gonna have to put it in inflation. That's the only language me and my generation speak."
Drusilla grinned. "About $52,000 in today's money."
She winced, and her reaction drew out a husky laugh from Drusilla—a laugh that was silenced by the roar of the engine coming to life. "I remember coming home and begging him," she said as they exited Julian's estate. "But the old man did not seem set to budge. Daddy was a stubborn fool at the best of times, you see, and damn near antagonistic if you wound up on his bad side."
Andrea had wondered what sort of family could produce someone like Drusilla—a literal movie star she could literally worship—and Julian, whom she wouldn't piss on to save if his ass were on fire.
"He eventually gave in, huh?"
Drusilla smirked. "I was always Daddy's favourite—well, except for maybe Octavian. But I was a daddy's girl, so even if it was a close contest, it sure did not seem like it."
"How much did this one cost?" she asked.
"The 911," Drusilla said. "He refused to get me anything too expensive or the latest that time around, so he was only prepared to part with $5,500."
Andrea winced again. "Mrs Boniface, that would be my entire college tuition—bachelor's, honour's, and master's too!"
"I think that says more about your universities than it does about me."
She's got a point there…
She turned and headed toward Andrea's dorm but stopped a couple of blocks away. "Julian was furious when he found out that Daddy was prepared to waste almost $10,000 on me and my mess."
Andrea rolled her eyes. "Sounds like him. It wasn't any of his business anywho, so why'd he get all wound up?"
Drusilla placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a sad smile. "It was not, but it hurt all the same. Our father had refused him so many times in life that he had long stopped asking for help. His financial obligations to Julian as a father ended the moment he turned 18 years old… and all other obligations weren't really there to begin with, to be honest."
Andrea was at a loss for words before she looked down at her boots. "I remember him alluding to that, I think. He mentioned something about not knowing what having a good father around was like."
Neither of them said anything before Drusilla finally put an end to the silence. "It's not to excuse his behaviour—believe me, I gave him a good talking-to for it. But it's just to give you some perspective," she said, giving Andrea a warm smile. "The man wants to do better by you, but he genuinely knows no other way than to be a prick. I think that worries him, you know. Jules is not used to being in a situation where he is so… lost."
Andrea stared at her for a moment before snorting. "Good, maybe he should look at this as some character development."
Drusilla's full and red lips parted into a radiant smile. "On that, we agree."
She looked at the watch on her wrist before sighing. "I must run now, Andrea; I have some familial obligations."
"Oh," Andrea said, leaning to open the door. "Thank you for the ride, Mrs. Boniface."
"Andrea," the husky voice called out after she had already exited the car. Andrea leaned down to look through the open window. "Yes, ma'am?"
"I hear that you came to my brother for advice because you're having some issues with your magic," she said. "As a magician, if there is one thing you should take away from Julian Nerva, it is that he is an exceptionally good liar."
Andrea frowned, but before she could ask her what she meant by that, the Porsche was already speeding away. She shrugged, then put her hands in her blazer pockets and walked down the pathway that led to her dormitory.
She entered to find Zoya and Aisling sitting in one of the rec rooms, seated on some couches around a TV.
"Well, well, well," Zoya chided her. "Don't you look pleased with yourself?"
"And where've you been, young lady?" Aisling asked, "Zee, Val, and I have been worried sick."
She frowned and looked around. "Did Val learn an invisibility spell all of a sudden?"
"No," Aisling said. "She's still working on it though."
"This is serious," Zoya said before standing up. "Disappearing late at night—"
"It was the afternoon,"
"Going who knows where!"
Aisling sneered. "Probably on her back for some boys—Protestant ways die hard."
Zee shook her head. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"
Andrea laughed. "I was just out with some friends, Momma. I didn't know that I had a curfew; otherwise I would've been—"
Andrea rolled her eyes and then yelped when she felt a smack on her backside.
"Go to your room!" Aisling said, trying to fight back a laugh. "No supper for you. You go and think about the shite you put me and Zoya through!"
Andrea was about to argue but turned and ran when she saw Aisling's hand raised. She did, in fact, go to bed without supper; Valerie had failed to save her some Shepherd's Pie.