Everyone knew Professor Branxton hated his Headmaster's office so, that's where he'd locked himself. He'd been living there, hiding out, for weeks now. The house elves brought him food but, he refused to leave. Hate hated this school. He hated teaching. And most of all: he hated being away from his wife and children.

He heard a knock on the door. It interrupted his ruminations. Finally, he jumped up. He was not the Doyle Branxton he had been since his birth. His chin and above his upper lip were stubbly from not having shaved in a week. His robes were askew and there was dust and a scuff on his shoes. His glasses were the only thing that were pristine because he spent his days polishing the lenses over and over and over.

He burst through the door, probably scaring the bejeezus out of the student who had knocked. "No time!" he told the boy as he rushed down the corridor and out onto the grounds. How could he have been so stupid? All he'd had to do was go and find her. Who cared about Cooper, anyway?