Moondancer slunk down the hallways of the sciences building for Dr. Nebulebray's office, head hung low. Dr. Kelpier was firm about not allowing Moondancer to take the test. He had a no make-ups policy when there wasn't a good excuse, and reading a book all night was not a good excuse. Moondancer might still manage to get an ‘A’ if he achieved a perfect score for everything else in the class, which, at the moment, felt an insurmountable task.

He didn't have high hopes of Dr. Nebulebray being any more forgiving. He'd been reading and re-reading her syllabus during the walk over and found it read much like Dr. Kelpier's. His ears folded. It must be department-wide policy, or even school-wide. He had half a mind to tuck tail and turn around now.

But he didn't. He came to her ajar office door and, after half-listening to hear if she was busy, half mustering the courage to be told he was going to have to deal with the consequences of his mistakes again, entered. He left the door ajar.

This was the first time Moondancer had seen Dr. Neulebray's office. It was the second time during his education that he had seen a professor's office, preferring to catch a professor after-class for any clarifications he needed, or wrote his questions down and sent it through the school post if they couldn't be resolved during the fifteen-minute break between classes. Considering her teaching style and strict personality, the atmosphere of her office was a surprise.

Small effects adorned her desk and shelves, photographs of friends and family standing next to vibrant houseplants and commemorative shoes from the many royal nature hikes that spanned Equestria. The Badlands one stood out, ruddy from the dust and harsh winds endemic to the region.

Little of the wall's original color could be seen past posters announcing new book releases and theater productions of all genres, many Moondancer did not recognize. Dr. Nebulebray was nursing coffee and going over another class' essays with red ink. She made the pages bleed.

Her eyebrows raised when she saw him. "Moondancer. Unusual for you to make use of visiting hours. What's the occasion?"

Moondancer slipped into the soft chair and looked down at his hooves, tapping them together as if the words he needed to say would appear if he found the right rhythm. His voice quavered as he spoke, "Uhm… yesterday…"

"You skipped my lecture?"

Moondancer nodded, the words stinging his ears. His cheeks felt hot, so he adjusted his glasses, hoping the reflection of the lights would grant him some cover.

Dr. Nebulebray took a sip from her coffee, adjusting in her chair to better face Moondancer, "And you were hoping for forgiveness to not have your grade harmed by inattendance, yes?"

He nodded again. A silence followed. Please, I know I don't deserve it, but please, please…

"It's department policy not to allow forgiveness barring good reason, Moondancer. It's also in my syllabus. Yet you came here, knowing that. Did you hope to convince me with those tears?"

Moondancer shook his head. It was all he could do. What did he think was going to happen, anyway? If anything, she was worse in her office. This was her home turf. And he expected charity?

"I don't think I'm being presumptuous when I say that students like you, Moondancer, feel strongly about my attendance policy. Correct?"

Of course she wouldn't miss an opportunity for a lecture. He nodded again.

"Higher education is more than learning from a book, Moondancer. Anypony can go to the library and study. I've seen you there every time I drop by. I daresay the library is your home, and your dorm serves you in two ways: a place to sleep, and a place to study when the library isn't open. Correct?"

A weak nod.

"My attendance policy is to encourage friendship amongst students. It usually helps ponies like you, but you're a stubborn one. Only participating in discussion to answer questions, gone as soon as lecture is over, and never seen chatting before, either. Nose always in those books."

Dr. Nebulebray drained her coffee, crumpling the paper cup and tossing it into the recycling bin, "You make for a terrible student, Moondancer."

Moondancer crumpled up much like the cup.

"Brilliant, yes. Always engaged with the big and small pictures, animated in conversations, your insights inspiring and the excitement in your eyes nostalgic. I see a bright future ahead for you in research. But."

She shuffled the papers on her desk into a neat stack and put them to the side. She spread her hooves out on the table. "A good student grows. You aren't growing, not as a pony. Why did you miss my class?"

Moondancer looked up. She was smiling at him. Warm, caring. It was uncanny and confused him to no end.

"Take your time. Somehow, I expect a good reason from you."

Moondancer wiped his eyes. He noticed he was shaking. He took a shuddering breath, opened his mouth to talk, but his voice hitched. He went back to breathing. He tried talking again. It took several minutes for him to calm down enough to talk. Dr. Nebulebray's smile never lost its soft understanding.

His voice was weak, and speech filled with pauses, turning a simple sentence into a public address by a sweating orator, "I was reading a book."

Dr. Nebulebray let Moondancer rest before she pressed him, "What book, if I may ask?"

"Harmony Lost, by Woolly Words."

"A classic." She had a twinkle in her eye, "You know, my copy is signed by Woolly himself." She pulled a ratty book down from her shelf, the cover yellowing and breaking along creases. The spine was broken so badly that the book splayed open when set down on the desk, showing off torn pages of underlined passages and commentary. She flipped to the inside of the front cover and, sure enough, there was Woolly's signature in silver marker. Moondancer stared.

"This is yours?"

She nodded, "And you're more than welcome to look, you know. Books are for sharing."

Moondancer took it in his hooves and turned the pages. The text itself didn't have his attention, but the markings around it. More than once, he found himself nodding along with Dr. Nebulebray's commentary. The margin notes were filled with miniscule equations and gushing about novel applications of theory, mirroring his own thoughts. Moondancer blinked and felt tears stain his cheeks.

"I was so excited to have my book signed by him, you know. I daresay I had a crush on him. I was the first one in line at Noble Barn's and shouted across the store to talk to him as he came to the desk where the signing took place, about how I had never read such a wonderful book in my life. He stopped to read my notes and I could've passed on right then. I'll never forget what he said to me next."

"What did he say?"

Dr. Nebulebray rested a cheek on her hoof, melancholic, "He said, 'You missed the point.' I could barely give him my name to sign. He shattered me with four words."

"That's... awful."

She laughed, "I was so upset I threw the book into the garbage when I left. I went back for it later, because I still loved it, but not after galloping home and crying into my mother's neck about it."

Dr. Nebulebray relaxed in her chair, leaning back, "So I read the book a hundred times—you can count the tallies on the back cover—until I understood what Woolly had meant. And you know what? After a hundred times, I still didn't. It remained a mystery to me until I was a fourth year, much like yourself."

"I'm a third year."

Dr. Nebulebray smiled at the comment, and Moondancer couldn't understand why, "Exactly like yourself. It wasn't until I met my husband that I understood Harmony Lost."

Moondancer waited for her to continue, to reveal the mystery. And waited, and waited. "Did he read it, too?"

"No."

"Did you talk about it with him? Your husband is Dr. Quanthaum, right? Did he understand some science that was lost on you? I actually have a few questions myself about how Woolly Words addressed Princess Narcissa's immortality and—"

"Nope. I don't think he'd even know the book existed if he hadn't seen my poster of it. He was never one for 'rigid fiction,' as he puts it."

Moondancer sank back, bemused, "Then what? What's the answer to Harmony Lost?"

"You'll be richer for discovering the 'answer' on your own, Moondancer. And you will, someday."

He disliked that knowing smile on her muzzle. He passed the book back across her desk, and she shelved it. She turned back to Moondancer, "I'd say you had good reason to miss my class, Moondancer. You must have been starved for a distraction if you missed an entire day's worth. But—"

Moondancer's growing smile faltered.

"In return, I want you to make a friend by the time exams come around. It doesn't even have to be in my class, although I think they would all make wonderful additions to your social circle."

Moondancer struggled to not roll his eyes. He wasn't about to look a gift in the mouth, and forgiveness at all was better than what he had expected, but the condition attached annoyed him. Who did Dr. Nebulebray think she was, giving him a friendship assignment? Princess Celestia?

"I'll… try."

"That's all I ask. Now, run along. I've kept the pony outside waiting long enough."

Moondancer turned his head and saw somepony waiting through the crack. He shuffled off with a murmured 'thanks' and pushed the door open. There stood Anonymous, scowling at him. Moondancer was caught off-guard. Dr. Nebulebray only taught third- and fourth-year classes. Hard science and maths classes, at that. Why was he, of all ponies, here?

"Move."

Moondancer shuffled past Anonymous into the hallway. The pegasus entered and shut the door. Moondancer stood there and stared. He had thoughts of eavesdropping, but shook them from his head. He needed to catch up with his studies.

One out of two was a failing grade, but he still felt like he managed to achieve something with his visits. He was just glad the other two professors didn't take attendance or had tests yesterday. But they both had tests tomorrow.

Moondancer pushed his glasses up and trotted off. It was going to be a long study session after classes. He was thinking of picking up Chineighse. Maybe stir-fried mushrooms. Yeah, that sounded good.