I love fanfics

The expedition sat down on the track (as well as on chairs, tables and - by chance - on the knees of Phantom Assa) and purposefully headed towards the gate. Ass frowned. When I thought about it, I decided that I hadn't frowned hard enough and started squinting. Father Browning, accustomed to everything, quietly met the eyes of the junior investigator, took a deep breath and began to admire the Milky Way. It was difficult, to put it mildly, in the shaky wagon of the Flying Gorlanders, and Phantom felt another attack of irritation...

Friday's session in the Yellow Room didn't work out from the start. First Ass was late, then distracted the psychoanalyst by the fact that he did not even bother to smell a hospital robe and lazily fell apart on the couch. Then came complaints about disgusting food, staff, a ban on drinking alcohol and smoking in the infirmary - "and she sits down with this tincture hawthorn, and beats it, and beats it!" As an exception, he had to be allowed to smoke in the room. Half an hour later, Harley discovered that the first task scheduled for today would not work...

Harley preferred to watch Perverts from a bird's eye view without encountering birds and other creatures circling over the magic school. The fact that the professor's motorcycle was flying solved the first problem, the loud roar of the engine - the second. Sometimes a mechanical eagle owl of Porrie Gutter was tied up behind Harley, but the robot still seemed not as unpredictable as living beings. Let him. That evening, however, Philimon did not keep him company. But on the second lap, Harley's attention was drawn by a tall white figure, waving furiously...

- And now? - No, no, no, no, no, no. - Nothing? - Not at all. - And what to do? - For the sake of everything... - Ass broke off without inventing a word that touches the soul. - I'm not treating you, you're treating me. Perhaps, solving a psychological problem with the help of hypnosis was not the best idea. Especially hypnosis, invented muddles... by magicians. However, he would not agree to be subjected to magic hypnosis in any case. There's something humiliating about applying magic to someone who isn't...

Harley accepted Amelie's chamomile only after he was convinced that there were no insects on it (chamomile). - Monsieur? - a questioning, cheerful, fearful look of dark eyes. Chamomile. Why this flower? It was possible to build at least one hundred assumptions based on different theories. You could finally cautiously hint that she was a freshman and studied with her at the same faculty as Saint-Aisley, who... No, that's not exactly what you should have talked about. And Harley carefully took the chamomile, trying not to notice how the thin fingers shake...

Strictly speaking, Ass was Harley's first real patient. Moreover, the patient, whose problem was treatable. One beautiful February morning, a school nurse came to the Yellow Room to complain about the Phantom. According to Madame Camphrey, the nurse expressed himself in indecent words, demanding scissors, Moodle's coloured paper and other strange things - later it turned out that the nurse was confused by "ikebana" and "origami". The psychoanalyst mentally thanked Mergiona Pager, provided the patient with the necessary materials and began to develop a course of therapy...

It was the eve of Valentine's Day, and (almost) the whole school was standing on its ears in anticipation of the holiday. The girls discussed boys and hypothetical gifts, and the boys persisted in pretending that they were not involved. Kanarei ... pardon, Miss Sue (who was "Miss" even after marriage) flew all over the school on the wings of love, and other teachers pressed against the walls, so as not to fall victim to the overpowering adoration of happily married McCanareikin. Mergiona Pager from the morning practised a skill that is indispensable for a self-respecting ninja...

And here he is, at a depth of thousands of meters, in the blueish darkness of water. He wants to die, but he is denied it. And forgiveness is denied, too. He keeps silent with infinity around him, he remembers day after day and face after face. What can be more natural than a miracle? Who was the first to say that? Now he can definitely see the sunlight. Up there, above the ocean abyss is far, far away. The sun can't get in here, science denies it. Science. Science can't really do anything. Moreover, to know infinity...

Luzh was strange in many ways, to take even worldly stupidity: his sympathy for Susan McCanareicle was visible to the naked eye, only the blind (and she herself) would not have noticed. And he was hiding it. Or the other: his strength, as it soon became clear, would have been enough to turn Browning and Assa annoying him into a capybara or any other animal. And he didn't use it. And in general, everything he did and spoke seemed to be the opposite of what he had expected. Some kind of abnormal. As Aeslie puts it, "illogical"...

The next round of the damn case was coming to school. And acquaintance with all these wizards-professors, wizards-pupils, wizards-no understanding-who. Insane. Strange. And surely dangerous. For all but him, Pastor Colt Browning, MI6's best employee, because his faith is too strong and his logic is steel. Stronger and more steel than anything else in all worlds. That's what he thought when he looked at Pervers' teachers - and they were just as cautious, but more... friendly? Browning didn't believe in friendliness, especially from people like...

They say infinity isn't measurable in any category. It is said that the human mind cannot know it and breaks down in careless attempts. And they say that no matter how much you know about the world, about all its gods, about the One God and about yourself. Infinity slips away from your fingers and thoughts, intangible and cold, laughing and gloomy. But Father Browning was sure that he had caught her. Or she caught him. Far away from Pervers School, at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, in the Mariana Trench, he finally opened his eyes and looked forward through the blue water...

Porrie and Mergia stopped talking. Gutter estimated how long it would take to remake the pipe so that it would share the magic. I thought about how to hide it. And I was trying to figure out if there was a chance to prevent all the horrors that the magician had shown. Yes, I do. Of course, there's one condition that nobody even thought of. Just one thing. If he takes all the responsibility and only on himself. Without Mordevolt. Without adults. So that no one knows. Even Sen. Except... - Porrie, I started reading a book...