Whitney Writes…

Cirice hung her cloak on the coat tree inside her office door. She felt exhausted, as though she had just run some sort of marathon. Perhaps having a two hour lunch meeting with a former classmate who is now a writer was more of a mental marathon. Joanne had been on edge; Cirice had been careful of what she said, not wanting to say too much, to give Joanne more than she already had. She already had quite the damning story for the wizarding community to contend with: young girl whisked away to a boarding school no one has heard of, clerical error bringing her eligibility into question not discovered for months, then a spell was performed on her, against her will, that likely altered her very state-of-mind.

The fire in Cirice’s fireplace went white. She sighed; damn Elliot and his detection charms. Grabbing a pitch of fire salts from the appropriate pot, she tossed them into the flame, turning it green, signaling him she was free for him to come.

A moment later, Elliot strode out of the fireplace, unscathed by the lapping emerald flames. He crossed Cirice’s office and pulled her into his arms. She melted into him, breathing in the slight metallic scent that wafted off his leather waistcoat.

“You have to stop tracking me with your detection charms,” she sighed.

“I refuse,” Elliot said simply. “Especially when you’re going to meet a money-hungry, vengeance-seeking woman.”

Cirice couldn’t help but smile. He finally let her go, but kept her fingers in his hand. “How did it go?” he asked. “How was she?”

“Just as we thought,” Cirice said. “Angry.” She then recounted the entirety of her conversation with Jo to him. When she got to the end, she added: “It seems as though she is intent on teaching us all a lesson for laughing at her. And to the regular world for not having believed her.”

Inktober 2025, Prompt #29: LESSON🧡🖤👻🎃