“This is the mage academy, isn’t it?” Harry’s question sounded dull to his own ears.

“Yes, it is!” Johns answered brightly. “You’ve heard of me, then?”

“Not really.”

“You knew you were coming here?” The brightness faded into disappointment.

“I don’t think so.”

“Did I already tell you that?” Johns asked with a bigger frown wrinkling his forehead.

“I guessed,” Harry said, and pointed at the school crest proudly displayed on the attack track banner next to him.

“Of course,” Johns chuckled. “I forget how clever students are sometimes.” There was a knock at the door. “Ah, that would be the police, I believe. Would you mind if they joined us for this conversation?”

Harry shook his head knowing that he didn’t really have a choice in the matter. If he said no all his answers would be relayed to the officers regardless of his opinion. Two new men came in and talked quietly with Johns while Harry sipped at the tea. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and decided that yes, the dizziness had passed. Now only a small headache lingered with a small twinge in his throat and a coldness around one of his fingers. He expected a ring there when he looked, but his hand was bare of any ornamentation. Somewhat alarmingly, Harry realized he was under dressed. He wore only loose sleep pants and his undergarments. He didn’t even have a shirt on, and suddenly the room felt a lot colder than it had before.

He set the cup down. “Sir?” he asked. “Could I have a shirt?”

“Of course!” Johns said, drawn away from the guests. “Let me fetch you one.”

He stepped out and the younger of the two officers stepped closer. “Hello,” the man said, kneeling to be on eye level with Harry. “My name’s Ben.”

“Hello Ben,” Harry said. To his own ears Harry sounded like a bad actor, but Ben smiled anyway.

“Are you a student here, little one?”

Harry bristled at that. “The hell, dude? I’m sixteen. Stop acting like I’m six.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Ben said quickly, holding his hands up. “You look quite a bit younger than that. It was my mistake. Sixteen, huh? What track are you?”

“I-“ Harry hesitated. His great grandfather wasn’t the principal. Something was wrong. But these were police. It was bad to lie to police.

“It’s okay,” Ben said in a quiet tone. “You don’t have to answer any question that - makes your head hurt?”

Harry nodded and rubbed at an eye. He did have a headache, but it wasn’t because of the question. This place was confusing.

“Do you know how you got here?”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“I found a shirt!” Johns said, entering the office and breaking the mood entirely. Harry gratefully slipped it on, giving a small smile and a ‘thank you’ to the older man. “Sorry about that. I hadn’t realized how chilly the office was.”

Most people wear shirts all the time, Harry wanted to say. He bit his tongue, though; he’d gone to bed without one and he didn’t expect anyone else to dress him.

“Now then,” Johns asked. “Where were we?”

“I was just asking this young man how he got here,” Ben said, still kneeling on the floor. “Do you think you could tell me what you remember?”

Harry grabbed the tea again and took another sip. It tasted awful, but it gave him something to do with his hands and let him think. “I went to bed at my uncle’s house. I woke up here. I thought I was still at my uncle’s at first, until you spoke up and I started heaving.” His cheeks flamed a bit at the memory. “I should be asking you how you found me, I guess, and where my relatives are.”

“Nothing else?” Ben pressed.

Harry shook his head. “A strange dream, maybe. A long, slow ride with lots of small bumps.” He shrugged. “That was just a dream, though.”

The adults stepped back, the three of them discussing something quietly among themselves, and an angry flush splashed across Harry’s face. This was his life they were talking about; he should be part of the discussion!