The Mathematician (Book 1)

10. And You *Still* Won't Call It Tutoring?

I woke up the next morning with the strangest, yet most replenished feeling I had felt in a long time.

It was a morning like any other, just barely past 7am and the sunlight was peaking in. The whole house was still quiet, besides the fact that I knew the kitchen staff was probably already up and working on today's breakfast. But there was just something else in the air. 

Getting out of bed and stretching, I felt a smile slip onto my lips as I walked to the bathroom with the feeling still following me. I was still going over everything that had happened yesterday, but somehow I already knew things had changed today. For the better.

And maybe that's why the feeling in my stomach told me today was going to be a different kind of day. 

Forty-five minutes later, I was showered, dressed and ready for a new day as I headed downstairs for breakfast. I passed the hall and automatically glanced towards the office door where I knew he would be. The door was closed, but he was probably already up, working on one of his problems. 

Turning and walking into the dining room, I surprised the staff by taking my breakfast in the kitchen where all the warm food was still filling up the room with its mouth-watering scents. The chef had made crepes today it would seem, with a soft boiled egg on the side and a few toasted slices of bread. I think today's breakfast was French-themed. 

I had only just settled by one of kitchen counters with a plate of crepes and was talking to the chef when the kitchen doors opened. Giselle, the French maid, walked in with an empty breakfast tray balanced in her hands and smiled to the kitchen staff. When she spotted me, she smiled at me as well, a smile which I returned. "Good morning!"

"Mornin'," I replied and chewed off a bite as I watched Giselle walk up to the sink with the dirty dishes. There was a pot of tea and a used tea bag laying on the saucer. "Is that... is he awake?"

"Oh, he's awake alright," She shook her head with a little, almost disproving sigh. "He actually asked me to find you and deliver a message."

"Oh?" I raised a brow when it peaked my interest. 

"He told me to tell you to come to his office when you're awake and ready."

Well, this was going to be interesting. He had never asked me to come to his office before, other than the time I had come to borrow his book. Then of course he did ask me to come to him whenever I solved whatever he gave me, but this was different. He specifically asked me to come to his office this morning. I wondered why?

"Well, I better mosey then," I declared with a last bite of my crepe. It was like eating porn. "Thank you for the breakfast, Jean. Keep this up and I'm gonna be thanking you for my round ass."

Jean laughed from the stove, but then I was off. I left the kitchen with an excited feeling in my chest, but also a curious, mystified sensation tingling in my stomach. Just what exactly was I walking into?

I reached his office and knocked the door three times and then waited only a second before I heard his call to enter. I twisted the doorknob and then held my breath as I walked in. 

I wasn't wrong to have assumed something was different today. Everywhere in Harry's office was a mess to begin with, but today was an even bigger mess as files, papers and folders were opened and scattered around in random patterns. I would've suspected a robbery or at least an attempt of one, if it wasn't for the fact that the culprit of this mess was sitting behind his desk, wearing the same clothes as he did last night. 

I glanced around his office, a bit stunted, but slowly came closer nonetheless when Harry seemed to ignore me, staring up at his blackboard. He was sitting in his chair, simply just looking up at his board with a concentrated look, as if he was deep within the problem written up there. On his desk in front of him laid seven manila folders, all with a number on it ranging from 1 to 7.