chosen_one386
Angel of Chaos
Over the years I’ve found really random movies to draw inspiration from for my fanfiction series, The Chronicles of the Chosen One. Recently, I discovered that my original anime-based series (which lives on through Shadows of Elements today) had a background and world based largely on the Disney movie Atlantis. I then realized that my main Legendary Team in all of my live-action series was inspired by The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.
Of course, that’s not to say that I don’t also draw direct inspiration from movies as well. I’m currently on my third re-write of my Harry Potter fanfiction (a process that has spanned the past five years or so). The true inspiration hit when I watched Angels and Demons for the first time in March of 2010. Now, my own fanfiction Angels and Demons and its sequel How to Save a Life have become my most treasured project (and, in my humble opinion, my best one).
After Angels and Demons, the only inspiration I gleaned from the movies up until now was additional fodder from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Parts 1 and 2. This all changed, of course, when Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows came out in December of 2011. I had toyed with a mini-Holmes fic before, but, after several months of turning the idea over and over in my head, I decided that I would embark on my first non-Pokemon, non-Aquapolian fanfiction. This is the fic you see before you today.
Now, as this is the fourth current fanfiction I will be hosting on Serebii and as I am currently in my second year of studies at the grand Georgia Institute of Technology, chapters may be spaced far apart and updated very infrequently. Why add another fanfiction to my repotoire? I’m very passionate about this and feel like I need to post it here before I lose my passion.
Anyway, as most of you will realize, I’ve twisted facts around, but stayed very close to the theme of Game of Shadows. I’ve only added a few new characters and haven’t changed the basic backgrounds of the original too much. As such, this will be my first fanfiction that will be closest to the original.
And, of course, I will have a PM list held here.
PM list:
Now, I usually do a prologue for my stories, but, this time, I feel like it’s best for us to just jump on in to the story. Things will be explained in detail, of course. I know a lot of you may not have been able to see the awesomeness that is Game of Shadows.
Without further ado, I present to you Shadow Games. Please enjoy.
Chapter 1
Rain splattered in sheets upon the windows, rivers running down the panes in what seemed to be miniature floods. It always seemed to be raining and cold in London, much different from the warm climate of Atlanta. Her mind had wondered back to her cozy home that lay in the outskirts of the city, the house built soon after the end of the Civil War, a few years before her birth. Only a small pang of homesickness hit her. When and if she returned, the only person she cared to live with was her mother.
But now…the letter in her hands seemed to shift her mind towards staying in London permanently to pursue her dreams. After all, her father was an ambassador. She would still see her family from time-to-time.
…I hope to see you as soon as possible. We can discuss your exam results and continue monitoring your progress. Also, if you care to bring them, I look forward to seeing your new sketches.
All the best,
Your London Friend
She clutched the letter tightly in her hand, her eyes flickering over to the engineering sketches on the table beside her. A few years previously, an engineering school had opened its doors in Atlanta. One or two of the professors there had connections to her London friend and allowed her to sketch there in secret. She had worked furiously on new medical technology. Her ideas never truly realized…Who would publish a young woman’s work anyway? At least while giving her recognition…
“Katharine!”
She shoved the letter inside a book beside her, placing the book over her sketches as her mother bustled into the room. Diana Jones cast a glance around her daughter’s dark room before saying, “Well be having dinner in a few moments. Mr. Strauss will be joining us, so dress well.”
Thank goodness Diana left the room as soon as she spoke. A small flash of pain shone in Katharine’s eyes, and she ducked her head. Grayson Strauss was her sister Jessica’s suitor, the son of an eastern European ambassador. He had been raised in Atlanta and had grown up with the Jones sisters. He was her closest friend…and more than that…
She shook her head and glanced back towards the book on her desk. At least she would get to see her London friend the next day. That was something to look forward to.
------------
Since he had moved from the apartments at 221B Baker Street, whenever Dr. John Watson received a message from his old friend and roommate, he had to heave a sigh. It wasn’t as if he didn’t miss the adventures…but, since he had moved out in preparation for his marriage, the messages proved to lead to rather tedious and distracting circumstances.
So he found himself that foggy morning, standing in the hallway and knocking on the door to his friend’s rooms. He was surprised the building was still standing after all of the experiments conducted underneath its roof. A muffled voice called out for him to come in. He heaved open the door, pushing stacks of newspapers out of the way.
The apartment was a mess as usual. Papers and experiments were strewn all over the place. Watson had to make sure that he stepped lightly so that he didn’t trip and fall over anything. There was no sign of his friend at all. He sighed, wondering what he was about to get himself into as he called out, “Holmes?! Where are you?”
He heard a rustling of papers from his old study, which was connected to Holmes’ rooms. This situation had proved inconvenient at many times when Holmes was carrying out experiments or playing his violin at two in the morning. Watson stepped into his old study, his eyes immediately widening at the expanses of paper and red string that wallpapered the room. Holmes’ meticulous handwriting was scrawled upon news clippings and sketches, detailing some sort of train of thought that was outlined by the red strings.
“What is all of this?” He muttered to himself, standing back to take in the entire scene before him. “Has he gone mad?” While his friend was engaged within a case, he became positively obsessive to the degree that he would eat and sleep very little and basically withdraw from the world. But this…this must be a particularly fascinating case. He frowned as he read the newspaper headings. They were all on the bombings that had occurred around London over the space of the past couple of months. Holmes must have taken it upon himself to investigate these events…
“Good! You’re here!”
Watson had been so deeply caught up in his reading of the articles that he had barely heard his friend step into the room. The doctor jumped a little bit, regaining his composure smoothly as he spun around to address his friend.
Sherlock Holmes had obviously been caught up in his work for days. His dark hair stuck up in all sorts of weird angles, his shirt was thoroughly wrinkled, and he had the usual manic look in his eyes that told Watson that he was extremely close to a break in his case. The urgent message served as proof that something had happened.
“What is all of this?” Watson asked, waving his hand at the red web and sitting down in a chair across from the strings. It looked as if a huge spider had invaded the room.
“This…is the culmination of what could be called my life’s work,” Holmes said, grandly sweeping his arm towards the wallpapered mess. He was standing so close to the wall that his movement caused several of the newspaper articles to flicker as if a wild wind had swept through the room. The fluttering papers looked like small birds trying to escape from the red spider web. If Holmes hadn’t looked so absolutely crazy at that moment, Watson would have thought the situation even more comical. He glanced over to where a couple of glasses and a bottle of some sort of fluid sat on a small table.
“You do know that what you’re drinking is meant for eye surgery, right?”
Holmes dismissed this question with a wave of his hand. “I’m on the brink of a huge break in the biggest case of my career…”
“So you can’t be bothered to check to see whether you’re actually drinking something that won’t kill you?”
Holmes grabbed his jacket from a nearby chair, waving his hand at a sketch hanging on the wall behind him. “We must go now or we’ll miss the engineer who drew that design.”
Watson frowned, studying the drawing. “A mechanical arm?” He asked as he followed Holmes down the stairs.
“Yes, drawn by the brightest student of Professor James Moriarty.”
Watson’s eyebrows flew up. “You mean Moriarty of Cambridge? Haven’t you theorized over the years that he’s behind many of the murders you’ve solved?” From practically the second day after he had moved into Baker Street with Holmes, he had heard odds, ends and snippets about the man whom Holmes had deemed “the Napoleon of crime.” Moriarty operated in high social circles of ambassadors and those who sat in positions in the House of Lords, not to mention all of the academics he knew worldwide. It would astonish most of the political men of London that one of their own was the vilest criminal of their generation.
“I believe that this particular student is our key to his recent bombings…and may very well reveal to us whom his current target is.” Holmes swung open the front door so enthusiastically, he didn’t even realize that he was halfway across the street before some carriage-rider screamed at him to get out of the way. Watson quickly shouted an apology as he pushed his friend further across the street, ensuring that Holmes didn’t get run over as he continued to babble about the details of their outing.
“Over the past few months, I have deduced that Moriarty is targeting one of the ambassadors that will attend a peace summit in Switzerland in about a month…”
“And you believe this student may be able to give us information? Holmes, he probably doesn’t tell his students anything about his criminal affairs…”
“This particular student is very strange, though…”
“I do admit that that sketch was something extraordinary…”
“That’s not exactly why this student is out of the ordinary.”
Watson shot him a confused glance. “Why then?”
Without missing a beat, Holmes answered, “Because she is a young woman.”
------------
Jessica Jones twirled around, letting the pale green dress she wore shine in the store lights. “It’s absolutely perfect,” she breathed dramatically, clasping her hands to her chest as she turned to Diana. “Do you think Grayson will like it?”
Katharine, who was seated on a bench nearby, rolled her eyes as her mother assured her sister. “It’s beautiful. Grayson will love it,” she said, smoothing her hand over the fabric.
“What do you think of it, Katharine?”
Katharine cleared her throat. “It looks very pretty on you. It matches the green of your eyes.”
Jessica’s face brightened. “You really think so?”
“Yes,” Katharine nodded her head a bit too enthusiastically.
Jessica turned to admire herself in the mirror even more. “Katharine, why don’t you pick something else out other than that dull black dress you bought a few weeks ago? I’m sure you can catch a young man’s eye with it.”
“She’s right, Katharine,” her mother joined in. “How about that blue dress beside you?”
She cast an eye at the dress. “I like the color…” She sighed. “Okay, Mother, I’ll try it.” She stood up, turning toward the door.
“Where are you going, Katharine?” Diana asked, a confused look on her face.
“I’m going to see a friend, Mother. I’ll be back in time for dinner tonight.”
Diana sighed. “Okay.” She smiled. “Have a nice time, and we’ll take a look at your dress tonight.”
After Katharine stepped out, Jessica frowned in her direction. “If she would just take her nose out of a book once in a while, suitors would be falling all over themselves trying to court her.”
“Now, Jessica…”
“You know I’m telling the truth, Mother,” she said, running a few fingers through her blonde hair.
Outside, Katharine had already made it halfway down the street, casting furtive glances behind her as she made her way across the city. She didn’t notice the two figures stealing after her in the shadows as she walked.
------------
As soon as the young woman had made it to the college, Holmes veered to the right, making his way past several of the buildings and slipping into an alley between two large structures. Watson cast a glance around them to make sure no one had seen before he followed Holmes into the dark alley. “What are we doing?” He whispered furiously. Holmes suddenly stopped short beside a window, falling to the ground and dragging Watson down with him. Holmes pressed his back up against the wall underneath the window and motioned for Watson to be silent. Watson simply glared at him, then turned his attention to the open window above them. Voices were starting to sound from inside. A young woman and an older man were speaking.
------------
“Professor?” The young man asked, standing in the open doorway.
The man at the desk looked up. “Yes? What is it?”
“There is a Miss Jones here to see you.”
The man’s eyes brightened. “Good! Send her in,” he said cheerfully. The young man nodded and disappeared. A few seconds later, Katharine stepped in, closing the door behind her. The professor rose from his seat, a soft smile planted on his face. He had a kind look about him, despite his icy blue eyes. His auburn red hair, beard, and mustache stood out against his eyes, making it look as if he was composed of fire and ice. He was still dressed in his teaching robes, obviously having just returned from one of his classes. Katharine glanced at the notes on his desk. It had apparently been an introductory physics class. Those poor students. Her interests lay in the realm of biology and chemistry. The professor had always teased her when their private lessons had turned to his favorite and her least favorite subject. She absolutely abhorred physics, but deemed it necessary to study the subject for engineering purposes.
“I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to come sooner, Professor. My parents are preparing for the ball in a few weeks and have been dragging me all sorts of places over London in preparation for it.” She made a face at the idea. “I don’t see why, as it should be Jessica that they should be paying attention to.”
“I suspect your sister and Mr. Strauss are close to ending their courtship?” He asked, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. Katharine glanced out the window as she sat down. It was open to an unusually mild day for London. She would have to get used to this weather, she supposed. As for the open window, however…she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. Perhaps she was worried that her parents would discover where she had slipped off to.
Of course, being seen speaking with Professor James Moriarty wouldn’t have upset her parents in the least. Her father Richard Jones had been close friends with the physics professor for years, and Katharine had known him since she was small. He had visited them regularly in Atlanta while she was growing up, gifting her with books during each visit.
Katharine nodded, turning her attention away from the window as Moriarty sat down at his desk. “Jessica is expecting him to propose any day now.”
“Would they plan to get married in London?”
“Probably…” She ducked her head. He frowned. “Um…have my exam results returned yet?”
“Ah, yes, they have.” The smile returned to his face as he drew several papers from a drawer in his desk, spreading them across the surface of the desk. “You…once again achieved perfect results…”
Katharine leaned forward in anticipation, but when he didn’t speak further, she frowned. “…but I still didn’t get an interview…”
Moriarty shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid not…”
Of course, that’s not to say that I don’t also draw direct inspiration from movies as well. I’m currently on my third re-write of my Harry Potter fanfiction (a process that has spanned the past five years or so). The true inspiration hit when I watched Angels and Demons for the first time in March of 2010. Now, my own fanfiction Angels and Demons and its sequel How to Save a Life have become my most treasured project (and, in my humble opinion, my best one).
After Angels and Demons, the only inspiration I gleaned from the movies up until now was additional fodder from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Parts 1 and 2. This all changed, of course, when Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows came out in December of 2011. I had toyed with a mini-Holmes fic before, but, after several months of turning the idea over and over in my head, I decided that I would embark on my first non-Pokemon, non-Aquapolian fanfiction. This is the fic you see before you today.
Now, as this is the fourth current fanfiction I will be hosting on Serebii and as I am currently in my second year of studies at the grand Georgia Institute of Technology, chapters may be spaced far apart and updated very infrequently. Why add another fanfiction to my repotoire? I’m very passionate about this and feel like I need to post it here before I lose my passion.
Anyway, as most of you will realize, I’ve twisted facts around, but stayed very close to the theme of Game of Shadows. I’ve only added a few new characters and haven’t changed the basic backgrounds of the original too much. As such, this will be my first fanfiction that will be closest to the original.
And, of course, I will have a PM list held here.
PM list:
Now, I usually do a prologue for my stories, but, this time, I feel like it’s best for us to just jump on in to the story. Things will be explained in detail, of course. I know a lot of you may not have been able to see the awesomeness that is Game of Shadows.
Without further ado, I present to you Shadow Games. Please enjoy.
Chapter 1
Rain splattered in sheets upon the windows, rivers running down the panes in what seemed to be miniature floods. It always seemed to be raining and cold in London, much different from the warm climate of Atlanta. Her mind had wondered back to her cozy home that lay in the outskirts of the city, the house built soon after the end of the Civil War, a few years before her birth. Only a small pang of homesickness hit her. When and if she returned, the only person she cared to live with was her mother.
But now…the letter in her hands seemed to shift her mind towards staying in London permanently to pursue her dreams. After all, her father was an ambassador. She would still see her family from time-to-time.
…I hope to see you as soon as possible. We can discuss your exam results and continue monitoring your progress. Also, if you care to bring them, I look forward to seeing your new sketches.
All the best,
Your London Friend
She clutched the letter tightly in her hand, her eyes flickering over to the engineering sketches on the table beside her. A few years previously, an engineering school had opened its doors in Atlanta. One or two of the professors there had connections to her London friend and allowed her to sketch there in secret. She had worked furiously on new medical technology. Her ideas never truly realized…Who would publish a young woman’s work anyway? At least while giving her recognition…
“Katharine!”
She shoved the letter inside a book beside her, placing the book over her sketches as her mother bustled into the room. Diana Jones cast a glance around her daughter’s dark room before saying, “Well be having dinner in a few moments. Mr. Strauss will be joining us, so dress well.”
Thank goodness Diana left the room as soon as she spoke. A small flash of pain shone in Katharine’s eyes, and she ducked her head. Grayson Strauss was her sister Jessica’s suitor, the son of an eastern European ambassador. He had been raised in Atlanta and had grown up with the Jones sisters. He was her closest friend…and more than that…
She shook her head and glanced back towards the book on her desk. At least she would get to see her London friend the next day. That was something to look forward to.
------------
Since he had moved from the apartments at 221B Baker Street, whenever Dr. John Watson received a message from his old friend and roommate, he had to heave a sigh. It wasn’t as if he didn’t miss the adventures…but, since he had moved out in preparation for his marriage, the messages proved to lead to rather tedious and distracting circumstances.
So he found himself that foggy morning, standing in the hallway and knocking on the door to his friend’s rooms. He was surprised the building was still standing after all of the experiments conducted underneath its roof. A muffled voice called out for him to come in. He heaved open the door, pushing stacks of newspapers out of the way.
The apartment was a mess as usual. Papers and experiments were strewn all over the place. Watson had to make sure that he stepped lightly so that he didn’t trip and fall over anything. There was no sign of his friend at all. He sighed, wondering what he was about to get himself into as he called out, “Holmes?! Where are you?”
He heard a rustling of papers from his old study, which was connected to Holmes’ rooms. This situation had proved inconvenient at many times when Holmes was carrying out experiments or playing his violin at two in the morning. Watson stepped into his old study, his eyes immediately widening at the expanses of paper and red string that wallpapered the room. Holmes’ meticulous handwriting was scrawled upon news clippings and sketches, detailing some sort of train of thought that was outlined by the red strings.
“What is all of this?” He muttered to himself, standing back to take in the entire scene before him. “Has he gone mad?” While his friend was engaged within a case, he became positively obsessive to the degree that he would eat and sleep very little and basically withdraw from the world. But this…this must be a particularly fascinating case. He frowned as he read the newspaper headings. They were all on the bombings that had occurred around London over the space of the past couple of months. Holmes must have taken it upon himself to investigate these events…
“Good! You’re here!”
Watson had been so deeply caught up in his reading of the articles that he had barely heard his friend step into the room. The doctor jumped a little bit, regaining his composure smoothly as he spun around to address his friend.
Sherlock Holmes had obviously been caught up in his work for days. His dark hair stuck up in all sorts of weird angles, his shirt was thoroughly wrinkled, and he had the usual manic look in his eyes that told Watson that he was extremely close to a break in his case. The urgent message served as proof that something had happened.
“What is all of this?” Watson asked, waving his hand at the red web and sitting down in a chair across from the strings. It looked as if a huge spider had invaded the room.
“This…is the culmination of what could be called my life’s work,” Holmes said, grandly sweeping his arm towards the wallpapered mess. He was standing so close to the wall that his movement caused several of the newspaper articles to flicker as if a wild wind had swept through the room. The fluttering papers looked like small birds trying to escape from the red spider web. If Holmes hadn’t looked so absolutely crazy at that moment, Watson would have thought the situation even more comical. He glanced over to where a couple of glasses and a bottle of some sort of fluid sat on a small table.
“You do know that what you’re drinking is meant for eye surgery, right?”
Holmes dismissed this question with a wave of his hand. “I’m on the brink of a huge break in the biggest case of my career…”
“So you can’t be bothered to check to see whether you’re actually drinking something that won’t kill you?”
Holmes grabbed his jacket from a nearby chair, waving his hand at a sketch hanging on the wall behind him. “We must go now or we’ll miss the engineer who drew that design.”
Watson frowned, studying the drawing. “A mechanical arm?” He asked as he followed Holmes down the stairs.
“Yes, drawn by the brightest student of Professor James Moriarty.”
Watson’s eyebrows flew up. “You mean Moriarty of Cambridge? Haven’t you theorized over the years that he’s behind many of the murders you’ve solved?” From practically the second day after he had moved into Baker Street with Holmes, he had heard odds, ends and snippets about the man whom Holmes had deemed “the Napoleon of crime.” Moriarty operated in high social circles of ambassadors and those who sat in positions in the House of Lords, not to mention all of the academics he knew worldwide. It would astonish most of the political men of London that one of their own was the vilest criminal of their generation.
“I believe that this particular student is our key to his recent bombings…and may very well reveal to us whom his current target is.” Holmes swung open the front door so enthusiastically, he didn’t even realize that he was halfway across the street before some carriage-rider screamed at him to get out of the way. Watson quickly shouted an apology as he pushed his friend further across the street, ensuring that Holmes didn’t get run over as he continued to babble about the details of their outing.
“Over the past few months, I have deduced that Moriarty is targeting one of the ambassadors that will attend a peace summit in Switzerland in about a month…”
“And you believe this student may be able to give us information? Holmes, he probably doesn’t tell his students anything about his criminal affairs…”
“This particular student is very strange, though…”
“I do admit that that sketch was something extraordinary…”
“That’s not exactly why this student is out of the ordinary.”
Watson shot him a confused glance. “Why then?”
Without missing a beat, Holmes answered, “Because she is a young woman.”
------------
Jessica Jones twirled around, letting the pale green dress she wore shine in the store lights. “It’s absolutely perfect,” she breathed dramatically, clasping her hands to her chest as she turned to Diana. “Do you think Grayson will like it?”
Katharine, who was seated on a bench nearby, rolled her eyes as her mother assured her sister. “It’s beautiful. Grayson will love it,” she said, smoothing her hand over the fabric.
“What do you think of it, Katharine?”
Katharine cleared her throat. “It looks very pretty on you. It matches the green of your eyes.”
Jessica’s face brightened. “You really think so?”
“Yes,” Katharine nodded her head a bit too enthusiastically.
Jessica turned to admire herself in the mirror even more. “Katharine, why don’t you pick something else out other than that dull black dress you bought a few weeks ago? I’m sure you can catch a young man’s eye with it.”
“She’s right, Katharine,” her mother joined in. “How about that blue dress beside you?”
She cast an eye at the dress. “I like the color…” She sighed. “Okay, Mother, I’ll try it.” She stood up, turning toward the door.
“Where are you going, Katharine?” Diana asked, a confused look on her face.
“I’m going to see a friend, Mother. I’ll be back in time for dinner tonight.”
Diana sighed. “Okay.” She smiled. “Have a nice time, and we’ll take a look at your dress tonight.”
After Katharine stepped out, Jessica frowned in her direction. “If she would just take her nose out of a book once in a while, suitors would be falling all over themselves trying to court her.”
“Now, Jessica…”
“You know I’m telling the truth, Mother,” she said, running a few fingers through her blonde hair.
Outside, Katharine had already made it halfway down the street, casting furtive glances behind her as she made her way across the city. She didn’t notice the two figures stealing after her in the shadows as she walked.
------------
As soon as the young woman had made it to the college, Holmes veered to the right, making his way past several of the buildings and slipping into an alley between two large structures. Watson cast a glance around them to make sure no one had seen before he followed Holmes into the dark alley. “What are we doing?” He whispered furiously. Holmes suddenly stopped short beside a window, falling to the ground and dragging Watson down with him. Holmes pressed his back up against the wall underneath the window and motioned for Watson to be silent. Watson simply glared at him, then turned his attention to the open window above them. Voices were starting to sound from inside. A young woman and an older man were speaking.
------------
“Professor?” The young man asked, standing in the open doorway.
The man at the desk looked up. “Yes? What is it?”
“There is a Miss Jones here to see you.”
The man’s eyes brightened. “Good! Send her in,” he said cheerfully. The young man nodded and disappeared. A few seconds later, Katharine stepped in, closing the door behind her. The professor rose from his seat, a soft smile planted on his face. He had a kind look about him, despite his icy blue eyes. His auburn red hair, beard, and mustache stood out against his eyes, making it look as if he was composed of fire and ice. He was still dressed in his teaching robes, obviously having just returned from one of his classes. Katharine glanced at the notes on his desk. It had apparently been an introductory physics class. Those poor students. Her interests lay in the realm of biology and chemistry. The professor had always teased her when their private lessons had turned to his favorite and her least favorite subject. She absolutely abhorred physics, but deemed it necessary to study the subject for engineering purposes.
“I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to come sooner, Professor. My parents are preparing for the ball in a few weeks and have been dragging me all sorts of places over London in preparation for it.” She made a face at the idea. “I don’t see why, as it should be Jessica that they should be paying attention to.”
“I suspect your sister and Mr. Strauss are close to ending their courtship?” He asked, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. Katharine glanced out the window as she sat down. It was open to an unusually mild day for London. She would have to get used to this weather, she supposed. As for the open window, however…she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. Perhaps she was worried that her parents would discover where she had slipped off to.
Of course, being seen speaking with Professor James Moriarty wouldn’t have upset her parents in the least. Her father Richard Jones had been close friends with the physics professor for years, and Katharine had known him since she was small. He had visited them regularly in Atlanta while she was growing up, gifting her with books during each visit.
Katharine nodded, turning her attention away from the window as Moriarty sat down at his desk. “Jessica is expecting him to propose any day now.”
“Would they plan to get married in London?”
“Probably…” She ducked her head. He frowned. “Um…have my exam results returned yet?”
“Ah, yes, they have.” The smile returned to his face as he drew several papers from a drawer in his desk, spreading them across the surface of the desk. “You…once again achieved perfect results…”
Katharine leaned forward in anticipation, but when he didn’t speak further, she frowned. “…but I still didn’t get an interview…”
Moriarty shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid not…”
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