Priest. (Nevermore Academy/Xavier Thorpe x Reader)

Chapter 12

Nevermore Academy.

***

By Wednesday, Y/N's schedule was finalized -- on Mondays and Wednesdays, she would attend classes one through four. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, she went to five through eight. Today, her first Wednesday, was also her first time attending Advanced Witchery, on account of the fact that her new teacher, Professor Dokka, just got back into the country from his homeland of Sweden. 

She was incredibly excited for the day, finding her conversation with Professor Alvar the day earlier to be calming -- she came to the realization that there would, indeed, be people to help her discover who she was. This was aided by the fact that Alvar had an incredibly soothing nature about him, almost as if he was the human personification of sweaters and mugs. His aura also had only good things within, a rarity for a person of his age. After all, life so frequently demands good people to do bad things. 

When she woke up, she quickly changed into her school clothes for the day -- her black uniform pants, a white tank top, and a Nevermore Academy button up, left unopened. She ditched her blazer on account of the hot weather, which she gathered was normal for Vermont in September. When compared to Inverness, America seemed to be constantly too warm -- as if Nevermore were somehow located nearer to the sun, or Hell, than Scotland. 

As soon as she had her tote bag packed and her iced coffee brewed, she had made her way to her European History class, and was consequently the first student there. 

Professor Hoyt stood over his desk, reading his own notes as he began writing something on the board as she entered. Immediately upon seeing him, her mind ran back to his book which she found in her father's stone tower -- "Deities and Other Significant Beings". 

"Ah... have you read it?" Hoyt said to her, without looking in her direction. Of course, he could probably sense her through her thoughts -- she wondered if it was like her, where she sensed them as soon as others were near, or if he had to concentrate on a subject. "Well, I must know there is someone in the room with me before I hear them thinking," He explained in response to her mental inquiry, "What was it you were thinking about my book?"

"Do you have an additional copy of it, Sir?"

Hoyt looked at her, "Unfortunately, not with me at this very moment. I could get one to you, if you would like?  Though I must warn, it is no light reading." 

"In all honesty, Professor, I am looking for something other than your expertise..." She stated, putting her books down at the desk closest to his, "I found a copy of your book, which belonged to my father, but it has a section taken out. Do you know why he would have...?"

"Your father was always extremely preoccupied with discovering more about his heritage," Hoyt explained, "To my understanding, he had always known what kind of creature he was, but could not seem to come to peace with it. He spent most of his life hiding his true self -- of course, he never could from me," Hoyt chuckled, straightening himself out. 

Hoyt, a Londoner, was an inordinately tall fellow with rather expensive style and the type of thin-wire glasses only such a man would have. When he straightened himself out, he looked like precisely the kind of man her father would have kept company with -- perhaps a bit odd, perhaps a bit posh, but completely trustworthy. 

"Do you happen to know what sort he was?" Y/N asked, a little bit of hope shooting up in her chest. 

"I'm afraid I lack the name," Hoyt admitted, continuing to write on the board something about Mary of Scots, "But he had eyes like you, you know -- though he wore contacts to conceal them everyday since we were children. His mother got him in the habit of such."