Obviously Noble had come as soon as he'd gotten the note, he'd flooed out of the sitting room and everything, because Daff wouldn't have written to him without it being important. And he had no idea when the note had arrived — it had been sitting on his windowsill, sealed and dropped off by the owl, when he found it — so what if something had already happened?

At least she'd said professional help. Noble retrieved his go-bag of supplies from his workshop and said something about a house call — which, this was like a house call — and then he was off to her office.

Noble had been fighting a wave of panic ever since he got her note, and he felt it well up in his chest when he saw her. Her hands were on the desk, she was clearly about to cry, and — he didn't know how he was going to be useful, because all he felt was that panic.

"What —" Noble started; his voice came out too shrill and he swallowed it down "— what happened?"

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