Th Alchemy Chamber was lined with a dense haze of smoke early that morning, as Maeve batted her way to the workstation.
There was no time wasted. The class got straight to work on brewing a set of Shrinking and Enlarging set of potions. They worked silently for the entirety of the class.
On her way to the supply closet to retrieve more bat fangs, she passed by Malachite, who was working calmly over his perfect looking potion.
Once finished, Maeve’s potion awarded her a strained smile from Hummingdoor with encouragement to do better. Mal was awarded a grand clap on the shoulder and a star for Serpentine. A star was used as a points system for competition between students and their Courts. No doubt Mal had received the first one of the year, given that it had only been a hour. Draconem Court was notorious for abusing the merit and demerit system. The last few students were exiting the classroom as Maeve made her way to Hummingdoor’s desk.
“Professor, may I have a moment?”
“Of course, Miss Sinclair! Trust you had a good summer?”
“Always. Though, glad to be back at Vaukore, Sir,” said Maeve with a smile.
He smiled back, as though he understood the sentiment completely.
“So,” started Hummingdoor. “Is it safe to assume you are not satisfied with your Alchemy grade in last terms exams?”
“Correct,” said Maeve, her voice businesslike.
“Also safe to assume you’re looking to be tutored in preparation for your final exams?” The Professor spoke as though he was solving some great mystery, and was rather proud of himself for solving it.
“Also correct. I’ve never had to be tutored in anything, Professor. I have to admit, it feels a bit embarrassing just having this conversation.”
“That’s nonsense!” He laughed heartily as he rearranged random papers on his desk, “with a little guidance you’ll be performing better in no time.”
Maeve smiled slightly. “Thank you, sir.”
“See? Not so grim as you make it.” He squinted.
“I suppose so,” said Maeve. She gathered her bag and started to stand, prepared to ask Hummingdoor when their lessons would begin.
“Marvelous,” said Hummingdoor. “I’ll talk to Mr. Peur myself.”
Maeve’s heart stopped as she clutched her bag tightly. “I’m sorry?”
“Malachite. I’ll talk to Mr. Puer-”
“No sir, I heard you,” began Maeve. “I just meant. . . does it have to be him?”
Hummingdoor laughed loudly, the sound bubbling out of him. It did not comfort Maeve.
“Pride is a dangerous emotion, Miss Sinclair. And not of a Volaticus at all.” He smiled wisely and stood at his desk, leaning over as though he was about to tell her a secret. “He’s the best in class, best in the school really. Tutors many other as well! Seems like the right choice, hmm? You begin tonight, yes?” He raised a finger in the air. “No time such as the present!”
He turned his back and began rummaging through some drawers.
With a heavy sigh, Maeve took her cue to leave.
The rest of her classes were as expected. In Healing Class, Violet Bentson hounded Maeve about why she was in bed so early last night and how she was never any fun anymore.
“I have plenty of fun,” said Maeve.
“No,” said Violet, her voice sharp. “All you care about is school now. I didn’t see you all summer, and you went straight to bed last night!”
Maeve pretended to be intensely reading a section of her textbook to avoid conversing with Violet.
“And it’s not like I get invited to see you over the summers, as if your family’s mansion doesn’t have guest quarters. . .” she continued babbling, but Maeve’s thoughts were elsewhere. She was too busy dreading having Malachite tutor her.
At seven o’clock sharp, Maeve waited in the far corner of the library, drumming her fingers on the table. She resented Professor Hummingdoor for forcing Malachite upon her.
