As the clock ticks steadily towards 9 a.m., the large wooden door leading into the classroom swings open with a groan. Through it, students in various states of fatigue and disquietude filter into the room. Most chose to trudge up the theater steps, finding safety in distance. While others sit close to the front, likely more willing to interact with the professor than their peers. The class is reserved for second-year students, so it's their third time starting in a new class, meeting a new professor. But, the energy never seems to change; excitement and nerves all bundled up together.
Etched into the slate stone wall, the blackened and scorched expanse of the hearth sits silently empty. Outside, the leaves on the trees show signs of shifting from bright greens to yellows and reds, but the air is still thick with summer heat. The classroom is drenched in it now, heat and humidity that in no time at all will have everyone sweating and a bit irritable.
Just in front of the hearth, sits a large mahogany desk. Ancient, hand carved, and gleaming with polish, it compliments the breathtaking man who leans against the front of it with his hands clasped in his lap.
"A mixture of inflated ego and an unbalanced foundation of power, is undoubtedly the most dangerous foe any witch or wizard will ever come across," Zayn declares with no preamble at all. Dragging his honey colored eyes over his pupils, he assesses them silently. When he seems satisfied he's got their attention, he continues. "The history of magic is blotted with great wizards who have met an untimely end, at the hands of a less talented, but more well-rounded, opponent."
A movement in the top row, an apple being lazily tossed up in the air repeatedly, draws his eyes from the students for a second. The culprit is leaning back in his chair and cloaked in shadow, only his feet visible because of the way they sit propped up on the desk. A ghost of a smile danced across his face before he collects himself and continues.
"The elements. Name them, now." Zayn barks out. A mousy young woman in the front row nearly slips out of her seat in surprise at the change in his tone. The apple lands on the desk with a clunk, and with a creak of the chair, Louis comes into view standing up and ambling down the steps of the amphitheater.
In the second to top row, a redheaded boy shoots up his hand. Zayn nods in acknowledgment and crosses his arms across his chest. "Fire," The boy responds quietly, but confidently.
Louis stops at his row and turns his head towards the torches mounted on the walls. The small flames inside them burst up towards the ceiling in a stunning display. Louis smiles smugly and continues his journey down the steps. He stops two rows down when a blonde girl raises her hand eagerly.
Zayn nods. "Water," She proclaims loudly. A little more loudly than she had meant to if the flush of her cheeks means anything.
The boy seated to her left gasps as the water in his glass swirls slowly then picks up speed until it resembles a cyclone. With an unnecessary, but frankly fun, flourish of his hand at his wrist, Louis instructs the water to jump out of the glass and then slide smoothly back in again, where it sits perfectly still as though nothing had happened.
Near the front, a raven-haired boy thrusts his hand into the air. "Earth," he proclaims haughtily. Louis rolls his eyes at his tone while he saunters past his row. The boy emits a high pitched squeal when the ground beneath his chair starts shaking violently.
Louis makes it to the bottom of the stairs, just as Zayn slides his eyes to the mousey haired girl who had been startled, he holds her gaze silently. Taking a breath to steady herself, the poor thing, she blinks twice before speaking. "Air," she whispers.
Louis smiles at her warmly, eyes twinkling, before turning to saunter towards Zayn's desk. Around her, a gentle breeze blows, billowing through her hair prettily.
