Flannigan smiled, and looked suddenly like a much kinder man. "He's doing very well, excellent progress. I'm sure he'll be glad his students still want to see him, I know he wants to go back to teaching," Richard gave the briefest of glances at Addie, "Yeah, come on back. Just, y'know, don't open any doors or leave your wand lying around." 

"No wands here," Richard said, "We're all underage anyway." 

Flannigan opened the door, and led them past the bemused reception witch. The home was in fact just as nice on the other side of the doors, there were more murals on the walls, these ones much more overtly magical, and clearly from anmultitude of artists of varying skill level. It was a hallway, about eight feet wide that stretched back further than the building should have allowed. The doors were numbered, but also had name plaques on them, and many were painted as well, apparently by the occupants. 

They found "Clowers, P." nestled between "Grimm B." and "Morhaime S." His door was painted, inexpertly, with a scene of a wizard's duel under a crescent moon. Richard thought he should ask to take pictures for Cae, but Flannigan knocked and opened the door before he could bring it up. 

The room inside was dark, and at first Richard thought they had caught him sleeping, but then two candles suddenly flared to life and revealed a tall, pale man with blond hair and glasses. He was sitting in an armchair with a book, and tucking his wand away, apparently having just used it to light the room. 

It was small, but one might say cozy, with no windows. The bed in the corner was neatly made, and in addition to some painting supplies he had a writing desk and a bookshelf. The book he was reading was entitled [i]Defensive Magical Theory[/i], by Wilburt Slinkhard. He also had a quill nearby and was apparently making notes directly on the book. 

"Unwen!" He said, in surprise, but no small amount of delight, "Rivera! I hadn't heard from any students, I assumed nobody told you where I was. And who's this?" He indicated Richard.