It was pride that kept her arm in place as Professor Crowley's thumb brushed over her scar, Themis disliking this immediately. She let her focus stray from her physical body, gave her mind over to her colleague's words. It's the best way she knew to cope with how alien her skin felt at this moment. Her body was her own, but little of her physical self felt real. The unnatural temperature of the room, the light pressure of fabric, the marble chair beneath her, none of it registered over the brush of skin on skin. All Themis could feel was her scar.
"Astronomer. I look for patterns all the time." Themis added as if the younger witch had forgotten her audience. It was a silly attempt to bring them back to something she could handle, a part of the world she felt strong in. Themis sought out patterns naturally and looked for them without intention. It wasn't a part of her personality she gave much thought to until recently. Her powers of observation and the patterns they showed her were focused on one man. Everything had changed in August. Her research had shifted; her readings now focused on reviewing runic alphabets and potion theory to understand transmutation better. She'd dreamed of his eyes on her from the beginning before her brain thought the detail worth remembering. She'd dreamed of pieces of their experiments, copper and silver almost always present, often accented in gold. She thought nothing of this; of course, she would dream of her work; there needn't be any magic at play. She held on to that thought as Crowley stabbed her with her conclusion before dropping her wrist. "To be changed how? You grow as you learn, but that cannot be what you mean." If the final answer to the mystery of alchemy was 'Learning leads to growth,' she would feel horribly cheated.
Themis watched the changes happen on Crowley's face, she was lost behind what Themis considered her 'thinker' face, and then she seemed to reach a conclusion that displeased her. Her tone reflected the change. When she heard the words, Themis changed herself. There was no question who was meant by 'he', and Themis decided there was no harm in admitting to this shared understanding. By her words, Samuel was simply someone she would consult when he returned to Hogwarts. That wasn't a lie. "I know what he told us all in his letter: His father is ailing, and he's been saddled with the burden of being the responsible son. I assume that he is getting affairs in order for his father's passing." How this equated to the shadow of a man she held in her arms nights ago, Themis didn't know.
"And I, like you, assume he's returning for next term, as he told us in the letter left for the staff." A letter he dated the morning he'd woken up in her bed after a night of making love.
She had no right to the fierce wave of protectiveness she felt at the witch's questions. She couldn't defend or fight for him, but she could ask, "He makes you uneasy. Why?"
"Astronomer. I look for patterns all the time." Themis added as if the younger witch had forgotten her audience. It was a silly attempt to bring them back to something she could handle, a part of the world she felt strong in. Themis sought out patterns naturally and looked for them without intention. It wasn't a part of her personality she gave much thought to until recently. Her powers of observation and the patterns they showed her were focused on one man. Everything had changed in August. Her research had shifted; her readings now focused on reviewing runic alphabets and potion theory to understand transmutation better. She'd dreamed of his eyes on her from the beginning before her brain thought the detail worth remembering. She'd dreamed of pieces of their experiments, copper and silver almost always present, often accented in gold. She thought nothing of this; of course, she would dream of her work; there needn't be any magic at play. She held on to that thought as Crowley stabbed her with her conclusion before dropping her wrist. "To be changed how? You grow as you learn, but that cannot be what you mean." If the final answer to the mystery of alchemy was 'Learning leads to growth,' she would feel horribly cheated.
Themis watched the changes happen on Crowley's face, she was lost behind what Themis considered her 'thinker' face, and then she seemed to reach a conclusion that displeased her. Her tone reflected the change. When she heard the words, Themis changed herself. There was no question who was meant by 'he', and Themis decided there was no harm in admitting to this shared understanding. By her words, Samuel was simply someone she would consult when he returned to Hogwarts. That wasn't a lie. "I know what he told us all in his letter: His father is ailing, and he's been saddled with the burden of being the responsible son. I assume that he is getting affairs in order for his father's passing." How this equated to the shadow of a man she held in her arms nights ago, Themis didn't know.
"And I, like you, assume he's returning for next term, as he told us in the letter left for the staff." A letter he dated the morning he'd woken up in her bed after a night of making love.
She had no right to the fierce wave of protectiveness she felt at the witch's questions. She couldn't defend or fight for him, but she could ask, "He makes you uneasy. Why?"
![[Image: Bka0H0x.jpeg]](https://i.imgur.com/Bka0H0x.jpeg)