Sylvia listens to all of this with a faintly puzzled air. She thinks he's asking for help to find his parents, but he hasn't quite said it directly. Still, there is one thing she should check first...

A gentle nudge: "You know you can't actually publish that."

Right? It wouldn't do for UCL to start publishing papers about the genetic origins of shapeshifters.

The worry fades from her face. That's all right then: he knows he can't share the research outside the supernatural community, and who knows, maybe he's right. Maybe it will help other shapeshifters. Even so, she's not sure that the reason he has given for searching for his parents is the real one.

"I understand," she says. "It's natural to want to understand ourselves. Especially when the identity you were brought up with isn't the same as the one you were born to. For people like us, that can be particularly tough. Forgive me for asking a personal question, but..." She leans forward slightly. "Do you want to find your parents because your research requires it, or are you conducting this research because you want to find your parents?"

Because if his interest is purely scientific, then surely he could analyse any number of shapeshifter families. There's no particular reason to investigate his own, especially if they're hard to find. She suspects a personal motive – one that is entirely sympathetic.

"Are you sure that they're alive?" she asks softly.

He's talking as though they must be, but if he hasn't been able to find them after searching for so long... well, she doesn't want to get his hopes up and then cause disappointment.

So if they are alive, they're far more likely to be in the US than the UK. She doubts he has much chance of finding them here, but then again, shapeshifter networks do tend to be close-knit. It's not impossible.

"Do you know their names? Or anything else about them?"

She takes the folder, flicking through it. It's impressive. And clear that he's serious about this. That alone stirs sympathy in Sylvia; how awful it must be to grow up with no clear sense of one's identity, no idea where one truly belongs.

She closes the folder, and looks up to meet Simon's eyes with a reassuring smile. "You've done a lot of work already. I'll make you one suggestion. Go to Hillingdon. It's the home of the oldest clan of shapeshifters in London – cats, I'm afraid, but there are all sorts there nowadays. If there's anyone in this city who can help you, that's where you'll find them." She holds up the folder. "May I borrow this? There's a colleague I'd like to show it to."

She can give it back to him if he wants, of course, but Sylvia has contacts among the shapeshifter community. It's worth a try.

"That's a shame." She wonders what exactly went wrong. If his own kind aren't willing to help him... well. It's not for her to judge.

Anyway, she shuffles the papers back inside the folder, tidying them away into her desk drawer. A pause. Is there anything he can do...? Well... Sylvia leans forward, hands clasped over the desk.

"You know, perhaps if you involved yourself with some of our community outreach activities at Redbright, you'd get yourself out there a little more, meet some new people, and help out the school. It never hurts to make connections. We're doing some fund-raising for the community this month; would you like to be involved?"

She thinks it'll do him some good, distract him from his mission to find his parents. Not that she wants to dissuade him from that mission, but it shouldn't take over his life.

"Wonderful." She smiles back. It's always nice to talk to a student who is keen to get involved. "Well, I know a few students who are planning to do Halloween magic tricks for the general, unsuspecting public. Small-scale, just enough to impress your average punter. They'd love to have a shapeshifter."

She has a flyer somewhere, she's sure of it... Sylvia checks her in-tray, flicking through several papers. "People do love their animals; I remember the last time we had one, donations absolutely shot through the roof..."

Ah ha. There it is. She picks up the flyer and stands up to pass it over to Simon. It's from last year, advertising the spooky magic skills of a "terrifying Wizard!". There's a little blurb about the good causes that donations will go to, and an email address.

"It's the same person organizing this year, so just drop him a line and I'm sure he'll find something for you to do." She beams. "I'll let you know if I find anything out about your family. Good luck with everything."

And that, of course, is a goodbye. Their fifteen minutes are up, and Simon has just unwittingly signed himself up to perform doggy tricks on the streets of London for charity. Super fun!