With hands burried deep in his leather jacket, Damien Murray went strolling about the grounds. His first stop: The Courtyard.

Usually it was a wide enough area to stroll, do some thinking and be alone with one's thoughts. He hadn't planned on it, but hung his messenger bag over his shoulder, the two books he'd been studying tucked safely inside.

It occured to him not too long ago, that it might be beneficial to seek someone out to ask questions that have been burning his mind for the past few years. But then the question was, how to go about it. The normal person would think him mad and have him committed to St. Mungos or someplace worse.