My Sister's Shadow

Chapter Five -- Curiouser and Curiouser

Dr. Holman nearly fell out of her chair as I sidled my bruised and battered frame through the door of her office.

"Good God!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "What in the world happened to you?"

"You should see the other guy," I smirked, though I lacked the swagger to really sell it. This did not satisfy Dr. Holman, her lips settling into a frown.

"Roz," she said in a stern voice. "Tell me."

"I was attacked outside the residence hall," I explained with a shrug. "Someone came up from behind me and tried to choke me."

"Have you informed the campus authorities?" she demanded.

"No, not yet."

"Well, you have to," she said quickly. "Have you phoned your parents?"

Oh God, anything but that, I imagined, in near horror. They'd demand I withdraw from school, insisting That Oxford was a horrid, crime-ridden city and no place for a young lady such as myself, and I should go to school in London, where I could live at home and have every moment of my life monitored to ensure things like this never happened.

"No, I'd rather not do that," I replied quickly. "Anyway, my sister's in town, so I'll be fine."

"Your sister?" she repeated, raising her eyebrows. "She's in Oxford? For how long?"

I shrugged. "Awhile, at least."

"Well, that's good to hear. But you're in no shape to work today. You must go home. I insist."

"No, really, it's not as bad as it looks," I tried to assure her, which would have been more convincing, had I not winced loudly as I sat in the chair opposite her desk.

"Roz, you need to see a doctor. Let me take you there," she offered, reaching for her handbag and keys.

"Honestly, Dr. Holman, I think I'll be all right," I nearly pleaded. "I'll just keep following Henry's instructions and ice my face every couple of hours or so."

"Henry? Henry Mortensen, is it?" Dr. Holman asked, raising an eyebrow. I nodded. "Well, he certainly seems to be paying you a lot of attention, doesn't he?"

I shrugged, trying to be non-chalant. "I suppose so. He sort of...found me after it happened." Dr. Holman just smiled and shook her head.

"Well, if you insist on working, I'll only allow you to do so until noon. Then it's home and rest for you, young lady," she said, sounding very maternal. "As for Henry, if you continue to remain completely blind to his affection for you, well, that's your problem."

I was dumbstruck.

"Uh, sorry?" I said, a bit bewildered.

"You heard me," Dr. Holman replied tersely. "I knew a man once, quite like Henry. He was a graduate student in another college, while I was working on my dissertation here. I didn't think he could possibly be serious about me, and I let him get away. I've regretted it to this day." Dr. Holman looked wistfully across the room before shaking herself out of the memory. "Now, we've got loads of work to do. We need to go through all my notes from this winter and highlight all the references to domestic life. You take the December pile to start, I'll take January."

I helped Dr. Holman go through her reams of notes from for the next few hours until she shooed me out of her office promptly at noon, which turned out to be a good thing, as bending over stacks of paper only served to aggravate my aching neck further.

I made the short walk back to my residence hall and dumped my bag full of books on the floor of my room, forgetting for the time being that I had promised Dr. Holman to report the attack to campus safety.

"Hello, Rosalind," a voice said plainly in the dark, and I just about jumped out of my skin. There on my bed, I could make out my sister's figure, sitting patiently in the half light.

"Geez, what are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?" I yelled.

"Sorry," she said, standing and moving toward me. I switched on the lights and heard her intake breath sharply as she saw my battered face and neck. "Oh, no, Roz. I heard what happened, but I didn't...think it would be this bad."

"You heard? How did you hear? No one besides Henry and Dr. Holman knows! I haven't even gone to the campus safety office to report it."

Hermione's face turned even paler than it had been before.

"That's not important," she replied dismissively. She pulled a large piece of velvety fabric from beneath her cloak. "You have to come with me now. It's not safe here for you."

"You think?" I retorted. "How the hell did you get in here, anyway? More magic tricks?" I waved my fingers at her and made a sour face. Hermione's stony expression did not change. Instead, she turned away from me and opened my closet doors.

"Get whatever you'll need together. You'll be staying with us for the next few weeks."

Seeing that there was no arguing with her, I begrudgingly stuffed some clothes into my rucksack, grumbling all the while. When I next looked at Hermione, she was holding a wooden spook and a whisk in her hands.

"Planning on doing some cooking before we leave?" I asked. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"These are portkeys," she replied matter-of-factly.

"Oh. Okay," I almost laughed. "Care to elaborate?"

"Roz, we don't have time. Here." She handed me the whisk.

"I suppose it's a stupid question to ask if I can say goodbye to Henry and let him know I won't be around? I'm sure he'll be coming by here later, and he'll probably be a bit worried if I'm nowhere to be found."

"You can explain things to him later." Hermione replied brusquely. "Now, technically, you're not allowed to do this, but we've received special dispensation from the Ministry of Magic in this case."

All that meant nothing to me, as I was still just holding a kitchen utensil in my hand. But then Hermione murmured something, and the whisk started glowing blue. And then I felt a huge lurch, as if my spine was trying to extricate itself from my body through belly button. In a moment, I was standing in the living room of Hermione's Oxford flat.