A New Tale from the Shadowhunter Academy

15. Visiting

Dean Penhallow looked up from some immensely boring paperwork concerning the employment of her new teacher for mundane culture. Misa Amane's parents had been killed in a demon attack when she had only been 15. Because she had the Sight, the family leading the Tokyo Institute took her in instead of giving her to a mundane orphanage. At the Institute she received some training and helped to raise and teach the children living there. That made her the optimal candidate for teaching at the Academy but the Clave ignored the fact that Amane had lived among Shadowhunters for two decades by now and made a big fuss about letting a mere mundane live within the borders of Idris.

The Dean sighed at the ignorance that was still stuck in the minds of so many of them. She turned around in her chair to look out of the window... and froze in shock.

Over the green walked none other than Consul Lightwood with his husband towards the archway, which was guarded by the Angel Raziel. Or at least by a statue of him. They had linked their hands, which rested in the pocket of the Consul's jacket. While the Consul was dressed all in black (at least a long time ago the clothes had been black, probably before his sons were born), while Magnus Bane looked like the most colorful and glittery first lady ever.

The Dean shook her head to evaporate her disrespectful thoughts on what were probably the most influential people in Shadowhunter- as well as Downworlder society. That was a mistake because now a dreadful suspicion occupied the freed space her mind: for sure the Consul had come to check on his sons. What if he found out that training master Scarsbury had attacked and offended Max? Or even about the... events of last week? They had been able to keep them a secret so far, but if word had reached the Consul's ear, for sure she would suffer severe consequences for her carelessness. By the Angel, the moment Max Lightwood-Bane stated his intention to study at the Academy she knew, he would be trouble! Or at least attract trouble.

Dean Penhallow hurried down the stairs to the entrance hall. She nearly tipped over the seam of her robe in her haste to greet the high guests. She reached the hall the moment the Consul and his husband entered. A bunch of students had already gathered in the hallway, whispering and gaping. The Dean engaged her most authoritative voice (she had especially trained it for cases like these) to clear the way in front of her.

"Consul Lightwood-Bane, Mr. Lightwood-Bane," she exclaimed upon approaching them. "I had no idea you would pay us a visit. We're not prepared..." But the Consul waved aside her excuse.

"Good morning, Dean Penhallow," he said. "Please, don't take any trouble for us. We happened to have an appointment in Alicante and wanted to use the opportunity to check on our sons."

At the cue, Max and Rafe hurried down the stairs. Well, at least Max hurried down delightedly and threw himself in the Consul's arms, while Rafe approached at a graver pace but embraced their other father with no less intensity. Though the family was probably used to public attention, Dean Penhallow shooed the other students back to their rooms.

After the enthusiastic reunion, Consul Lightwood asked: "So, is everything going fine? I hope you concentrate on your studies?"

As every student in the whole world, even the laziest one, would, Max and Rafe affirmed in all seriousness. But then Magnus Bane inquired: "Did anything exciting happen?"

The boys, and also the Dean, answered in perfect unison with a definite 'No'. All eyes went to her, the fathers' looks confused, the sons' warningly.

Dean Penhallow felt the heat rise to her cheeks and hastily threw in: "Very well, I'll leave you then. If you need accommodation for the night, your former suite in the tower isn't occupied. Enjoy your visit." With these words she hurriedly left, before she accidentally gave away any of the events. She trusted Rafe to be more competent in keeping secrets than herself.