Thespian

The candlelight in the third-floor corridor flickered, casting a lone shadow.

Lockhart came down the corridor, his deep purple robes sweeping behind him in an elegant arc. His step was as light as if he had just received a fan letter.

As he rounded the corner, he nearly collided with someone.

It was Cordelia.

Her head was bowed, her silver-blond hair spilling over her shoulders. She gently wiped her eyes with one hand, her shoulders trembling.

She looked up at the sound of footsteps. Her silver-gray eyes were red-rimmed, tears still clinging to her lashes. The candlelight caught the moisture in her eyes and scattered it into tiny glints.

The moment she saw Lockhart, her expression shifted through surprise and hesitation before settling into the disheveled look of someone struggling not to let it show.

"Sorry, Professor." She took a small step back and turned sideways, as though trying to avoid him.

"Miss Rowle?" Lockhart stopped, the cheer in his voice turning instantly to concern. "Are you all right? Did something happen between you and Mr. Gu?"

Cordelia said nothing. She pressed her lips together, turned her face away, and quickly wiped the corner of her eye with her sleeve.

She did it so fast that she might have been pretending nothing had happened, but the haste only made it more obvious.

"It's nothing, Professor." Her voice was hoarse, low and nasal in the way it got after crying. "I'm just—just a little—"

She could not go on.

Lockhart stepped closer and bent slightly, bringing his gaze level with her downcast eyes.

He made the movement look perfectly natural: not close enough to intrude, but close enough to suggest the intimacy of someone listening in earnest.

The scent of lavender drifted from him on the corridor's cross-breeze, strong enough to