Short Story; The Doctor's Orders, Part One

Credits; Petra,

"Welcome students."
"Good Morning."
"My name,"  She turned to the chalkboard and conjured a piece of chalk in a little burst of sparks.  "Is Professor Petra Zinksfeld.  I will be your enchanting instructor."  She turned back and smiled.  "I will also teach you magic." 
The class tittered and giggled at her comment.  Petra lost no time, she started sketching alchemical patterns onto the board.  She used an old fashioned green chalkboard because it made the patterns look cooler.  It had an archaic feel that rather fit the field. 

First year students, nobody particularly special, kind of a dissapointing year over all.  Petra went to sit down and instinctively reached to move her sword out of the way.  It wasn't there.  She'd forgotten it while she was teaching, but since she'd gotten up that morning she'd been leaning to the right and bumping into things.  The weight of blade and scabbard had been like a third arm, her body was so used to compensating for it that she had to actively think just to walk straight.  It was so...wierd.  She went through the day listless.  She wasn't even sure if that was the right word for it, she'd never felt like this before.  She had always had a purpose.  Now she had nothing.  No more sword, no more hunting demons, no more.. Well that was a good thing, right?  He'd killed trillions, ruined lives, and..and then he'd saved Rea.  She wasn't even the first.  She'd seen it happening for years now, Shades would attack, kill immortals, and then for some reason there would be no collateral damage, no dead guards, and even innocent maids who said they'd died and had the clothing damage and blood stains to prove it.  He hadn't just been sparing lives; he'd been outright saving them.  He was one of the prime evils of the universe and he'd been doing undeniable good.  And he couldn't have possibly gained by doing so.  Other demons would have turned on him if they thought he was being humane. 
"But that isn't the only reason you miss him, is it miss?"  Petra's cat leapt up onto the desk and planted itself on the homework assignments she'd been trying to distract herself with. 
"I swear I have no idea what you mean Siggy." 
"Scratch my chin while I explain your repressed emotions."  Petra obediently set down her pen and scratched the half spectacled tabby, who purred as he began to explain.  "It all starts with your feelings yowards your parents.  You saw the happiness your mother derived from your father and were envious of her.  This is, of course, natural for any child.   But when your father died and your mother permitted it, you felt as though perhaps there were something wrong with men.  Your mother, being who she was, could not have been wrong to take him.  So when your mother replaced the time she had spent with your father with hunting demons, some large part of you felt that demon hunting must be the only worthy pursuit.  So in place of the usual dating and marriage that any normal woman goes through, you had the hunting of demons.  And your natural desire to impress your mother became a perfectionist streak which lead you to become the best at fighting demons.  And I should consider it fortunate that such was the case, for you met a demon of the highest caliber.  At first you fought, and you spoke as you talked and you studied each other when you did not fight, until one day he realized something.  On that day I think he changed.  He stopped mourning his defeats and began to view his fights with you as something more of an encounter.  I could go into great length about the symbolic nature of your repeated dominance over him, and of the significance of your impaling him on every encounter, but the sun is very warm on your desk and I like it here." 
"You have a very dirty mind Herr Kitty.  But continue, you shan't be quiet unless I let you finish."
"Quite right, I would yowl at my bowl quite early tonight if you were to stop me."
"and then play with my hair until dinner?"
"I think I may do that anyways, you're wearing the most fascinating baubble today and I feel the need to paw at it."  Petra sighed.  There was no controlling the poor man and his love of shiny, dangly things.  "But I digress.  I think that somewhere during that time you too ceased to view it as a battle.  To turn a phrase, you forged a friendship through crossed swords.  And I think, if only by your current state, that perhaps it was something more than a friendship."
"Well, I never.  Me and..and Legion!  He's a demon.  Or at least he was a demon.  I would never even dream of.."
"Oh but you have.  Perhaps not to your memory, but we cats are quite perceptive of our companion's unwaking fantasies."
"Stop!  I'll hear no more of this talk.  Me, fantasizing about him, a demon; that's deplorable, even from you Sigmund."  Petra stood up and walked to the door.  She paused at it, considering his words before hearing his parting shot. 
"You may repress your feelings as deeply as you wish.  It shall not change them."