Just when it had started to feel as though his world was beginning to correct itself the rug had been pulled out not once, but twice, and where once they had been a family of twelve noisy people in one house, they were now nine solemn souls divided. Tomorrow they would have a funeral with empty caskets and sit shiva at his father’s house, but Konstantin doubted it would offer them any comfort. How could it when they had been there one minute and, quite literally, gone the next?

Ari was still a mess, the rest of them were not much better and there was a good chance this week would end up ranking as amongst the worst of his life. He had thought he knew plenty about grief when his mother died – that fallacy had been quickly destroyed when Amelia had died. And now he had lost Katia and Nemo and nothing could ever fill the gaps they had left.

He had tried walking the streets to take his mind off it and for the most part the fresh air had improved his mood, even if no amount of autumnal sunshine could clear the gloomy cloud that seemed to hover ever-present over his head. He considered calling for Leo or Julian, but they would see enough of each other in the coming week. Instead, he had cut through the back street behind the shops in Hogsmeade, hoping to avoid meeting anyone who might ask after his family – in hindsight it would have been the lesser inconvenience.

As he was passing the back door of the Apothecary he was hit in the face twice by a teenager experimentally spraying from a bottle containing a concerningly murky liquid. Profound apologies followed by they went unheard by Konstantin as he had fallen to the ground in a slump.

That had been four hours ago, by his fob-watch, and yet he was still here, still groggy and still convinced this would be the worst week of his life. But the bed was comfortable and no one had informed his family – at least he hoped they hadn’t, because otherwise they just couldn’t be bothered to come – so he had peace and quiet and a neighbour that had leant him the Prophet.

Admittedly he had passed out three more times, for reasons unknown, but that was quite small potatoes these days.

When the curtain was drawn back Kons was glad to be sitting down. Was it another symptom perhaps? Surely the lurch inside him could not be possible given the state of his life at the moment?

“Are you-” A vision? A goddess? An angel? “The healer?”

For a moment – a brief, blissful but nevertheless profound moment – Konstantin felt his troubles vanish from his mind. Two of his siblings were dead and their faces evaporated. He had lost the job he had coveted and been stabbed in the back by a friend – but it was nothing, it was mist, it was vapour, because the healer who had walked into his dull little hospital room was the most perfect young lady he had ever laid eyes upon. The fineness of her features suggested she had been sculpted by a master of the art rather than born and formed as mere mortals were; her hair and skin glowed to a degree that he briefly – very briefly – felt the need to check that the moon had not freed itself from the orbit of the earth and instead come to light her every step. Except he could not look away for anything, simply would not punish himself by robbing his weary heart from the vision before him for the merest of moments. She put him in mind of Pandora, that perfect first creation of Zeus who embodied all the wonders and mysteries of womanhood in one lovely form; of Artemis the untouchable, silver goddess and Aphrodite-

And then Konstantin blinked. And the moment passed.

He blinked a few more times, as though trying to dislodge something from his eye – possibly it was from his brain – and when he refocussed on the woman in front of him, he felt bamboozled once more. True, she was very beautiful, but where on earth had that come from? Perhaps he was spending too much time with Porphyria? (It was not the first time this thought had occurred to him, but his brain had never become quite so…Greek before and that he put down to her influence.

“Erm…” he coughed, practically spluttered as he pulled himself up a little, feeling suddenly that it was very necessary for him to be propped up against the pillows during this conversation rather than flat on his back like a fool. “Not at all, please do go ahead and ask me whatever you need. I’m afraid I might not be able to tell you any more than you already know, but if you think it would help.”

It could hardly make his situation worse. The shiva was looking and he didn’t fancy falling into unconsciousness at random intervals – sympathy would be at an all time high as it was, he didn’t need coddling to the list of things people thought he needed. Hopefully Miss Chevalier – a name, he noted with some amusement, that was almost as beautiful as she was – would be able to get to the root of the problem. Although if she absolutely insisted on him staying here to recover he might be able to bring himself to forego his duties if the compensation was her company and peace and quiet.

What on earth had come over him?!

With effort Konstantin was able to focus his mind. It helped that he had his general state of misery to focus on – nothing distracted you from a beautiful woman as much as two dead siblings, a dead fiancé and one’s jobs prospects evaporating in the face of institutional snobbery. Still, it was a close call; she was utterly exquisite. Why on earth had Ari never mentioned her before? Surely, they must work together?

“Erm, I’m not sure-” he began, racking his brains for the memory of a scent. He vaguely recalled something that might have been sawdust before her next question struck him. He glanced down, finding his suit still in place, if a little ruffled, and sure enough there was a residue clinging to his lapels that had certainly not been there when he left the house this morning.

“I am. And I can assure you they are usually in better condition so you will have to excuse me,” he sat up stiffly and eased his jacket off. His arms had an unnatural ache to them at the manoeuvre but he persevered and handed the garment to her. It occurred to him that it might do her harm to come too close and he paused, “Are you sure? It seems to be rather potent.”