I knocked on the door.
"Professor?"
I rang the doorbell again.
"I don't know what John did to you, but it was definitely his fault! I just wanted to ask you a few basic questions about magic, and I'll compensate you for your time."
There was no reply from the house.
Damn it, John. What the hell did you do?
I knocked again and continued to spam the doorbell.
"Let me just get this on record, screw John. We're not mates. He just gave me a list. That bastard probably screwed over half the people on it too, heck I'll even help you get back–."
My hands hit thin air.
Professor Blood was suddenly standing there, looking at me with thinned lips.
I shot him my best smile.
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You seem like a charming young man," he said dryly. "I don't know why you wish to learn the Art, but I'm sorry to say you have no talent. So please leave."
I wasn't really looking to dive into all the magic hocus-pocus stuff beyond alchemy, especially after meeting John, but some childish part of me still died a little at hearing I'd never get to go full Alakazam.
He began shutting the door, but I pushed back against it for a second. Holy hell, he was strong. I could barely slow him down. "Wait. I don't really want to learn magic. I was just hoping you could help me improve this."
I grabbed one of the potions I'd brought and shoved it through the gap in the door.
"I don't want whatever—" Professor Blood's irritated expression paused. "…Oh?"
Glad not to get a door in my face, I straightened a little. Professor Blood was holding one of my health potions with a far more interested look on his face.
"Health potion. It lets people heal minor wounds," I supplied.
"Not bad… not bad at all. Mayhaps you have a talent for item construction. Still, that's not enough to earn my tutelage. A single decent potion like this is mayhaps—"
"One?"
I pulled out the small pack of potions I'd brought, half as a gift and half to ask for tips. There were more than a dozen potions of various types inside.
"You made these all… recently?" The man's face stayed stoic, but I could hear the hint of disbelief in his voice.
Huh. Was normal alchemy that hard?
"Yeah. These are all from today's batch."
"Today?" He rolled his eyes. "That's… forgive me for my bluntness, but you should have thought of a better lie, young man."
He muttered something in Latin, and I caught the faint smell of brimstone as a glow passed over the potions.
"You're not lying." There was a disbelieving note in his voice now as he simply stared at me. "You… can produce this many every day?"
"This is barely even a fraction of how much I produce daily."
I didn't know the exact numbers, but even before I'd slaved away making refineries, the various workshops under me had already been producing thousands of potions a day. After the expansion, that number had probably increased exponentially with the amount of manpower Cobblepot was throwing at it.
The Professor went silent at my answer. He stared hard at the potions, his expression turning conflicted in a way that told me this was apparently far more impressive than I'd thought.
It really had to be, because I recognized that look. It was the face of a man watching his greed slowly win out over his better judgment.
So, naturally, I reached for the classic criminal solution.
Bribery.
"Of course, your time is very valuable, so if you would graciously accept these as compensation for the inconvenience…" I shoved the bag into his hand.
There was a long pause as Professor Blood took a careful look at the bag. Then, after another moment of silence, he stepped back and opened the door wider.
"Come in."
Success!
Who said you couldn't learn anything from crime?
The interior of the townhouse was just as well-kept as the outside, though in a dark, old-fashioned way that made it feel older than it probably was. Dark oak paneling covered the walls, and warm lamplight reflected softly off polished wood while tall bookshelves packed with leather-bound volumes and strange trinkets filled nearly every open space.
Professor Blood strode over to the fireplace and snapped his fingers, bringing it alight. He lowered himself into one of the recliners and motioned for me to sit.
I took the couch.
"My apologies, I never asked your name." Professor Blood gave me a slight tilt of his head.
"Jean."
"A good name," he said. "It pains me to do so for someone with such an extraordinary talent, but I cannot guide you. Still, I shan't send you away empty-handed after such a generous gift." He raised a hand, and several books flew from the shelves. "Here are several tomes on alchemy that should be helpful on your path."
"Is it because of John? I understand—"
"Do not mistake me, Jean. I loathe Constantine, but my personal dislike for the man is not why I refuse to assist you." He sighed. "Are you aware of John's curse?"
"His bad luck, right?" I frowned.
"Yes." Professor Blood scoffed. "The man taints everything he touches. Already once before, I assisted a young man John sent my way. I gave him skill and knowledge, and within mere months, he became a raving madman who tried to sell innocents to a demon. I had to put him down myself. I will not waste my time again."
I was about to argue that maybe that wasn't entirely on John, but that probably wasn't going to go over well.
"I can't just pinky swear that I'll never deal with devils?"
I mean, once was already more than enough for me.
Professor Blood shook his head. "Save for the Heavens themselves declaring your innocence, I will not—"
A trumpet blast rang through the air, sharp and bright enough to cut straight through the room as golden light spilled through the windows. Both of us turned just in time to catch the shimmering outline of an angel descending beyond the glass. The radiance pouring from it made it impossible to judge its true shape or size, leaving only a holy silhouette wreathed in brilliance, while a blessed song drifted through the air, filling the room with an almost crushing sense of awe.
Then one of the windows swung open on its own.
Without warning, a crown of roses dropped onto my head, followed by a cross.
Just as quickly as it had appeared, the seemingly divine intervention vanished, leaving only the cross in my lap as the crown gently unraveled.
Huh. So that was where Simmy went.
I looked over at Professor Blood. His jaw had dropped, and his eyes flicked from me to the open window and back again. He opened and closed his mouth several times.
"So… when's my first lesson?"
***
Comments and Thoughts would be greatly appreciated. Likes are like a drug to me and boost my creative juices.
I have advanced chapters on my Pa tre on/daisyberry if you wanna read ahead.