’Mr Leverett?’ he asked, his brow furrowed in concern for the young man from his own house who seemed to be a thousand miles away from this time and place. Despite his age and height Meserimus had strength in his old body and he allowed the young man to cling to him like a life line. ’Breath my boy, please stake a deep breath’. With a wave of his hand he cast a quick spell to check if the boy was bewitched or confounded in some way. He wasn’t- this appeared to be some sort of flashback or nightmare, although he doubted that the student had locked himself in the wood box.

Replacing the lid with a casual wave of his hand, Meserimus guided the boy to sit on the low wooden box, and then seated himself beside him, encouraging him to lean forward do he could breath easier. He patted the boy on the back – his teachery demeanor was gone and in his place was the father and grandfather to many children, a man who could spot the distress of a child at a hundred paces, ’Come on Clue, take a deep breath for me now.’ he encouraged and rubbed a hand on his upper back. ’It’s alright now.’