If He Doesn't Scare You, No Evil Thing Will

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Cassandra had to make use of her tribrid speed to make it to class on time. She huffed a little bit as opened the closed classroom door and quietly creeped into the classroom. She sighed in relief when she realized the professor was nowhere in sight. Looking out over the tiered bar-like desks, she saw her Court had taken up an entire desk, with a seat left empty between Eiji and Griffin. She saw Eiji look up from something he was writing and wave her over subtly. She grinned in response and started to make her way over to him, when she saw him freeze in place with scared eyes. Confused, Cassandra stopped walking and gave him a questioning look. Just as she was about to ask what was wrong, the amateur sleuth heard the impatient clearing of a throat from behind her.

"Glad to see you decided to join us Mrs... Mikaelson and Grim, was it?", a man's voice smoothly called out from behind her. Cassandra turned around in order to see the man's face.

He was tall and intimidating. Standing at six feet at least, he had cold storm gray eyes and parted white and black hair. He wore a half white, half black vest with scarlet buttons and a matching tie. He had on black dress pants, black leather shoes, and a long sleeved, black dress shirt with buttons the same color as the ones on his vest and scarlet leather gloves to match. He also wore silver stud earrings, but all of those garments and accessories weren't the most memorable aspects of his appearance. That title went to the long, black and white fur coat he wore. The long, striped piece of outerwear hung loosely on him, to the point where Cassandra could see the red satin lining on the inside of it, with several white tails of some kind hanging from the bottom, dispelling any doubt about the coat's authenticity. He looked like a male Cruella De Vil.

The second most outlandish part of his appearance was what Cassandra wanted to think was a pointer or wand, but the red studded leather collar with a rectangle diamond tag hanging from it made it seem a lot less innocent in nature. It was then she realized that the pointer, and the way he had addressed her earlier, meant he was her professor. So much for good impressions.

Cassandra eyed the black and white striped, red tipped, leather handled baton... thing with apprehensive eyes, wondering how he got away with waving something that looked like it came from a sex shop in front of his students as he stood there with his right eyebrow raised, his hands on his hips, and his foot tapping impatiently. It was only when the girl made eye contact with him that she realized she was staring. Cassandra quickly looked away, suddenly finding the wall beside him very interesting. Knowing she had to answer him soon or risk digging herself into a deeper hole, the red haired girl took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes once more.

And it was then, with lightly dust red cheeks and eyes flitting about his surprisingly provocative attire, she realized...

'Oh no, he's hot!'

"I apologize for my familiar and I's tardiness, sir. We have no excuse for why we are late, only the hope that this doesn't affect how you perceive us as students.", Cassandra said this with a sincere look in her eyes. She really did mean that. She didn't want to be labeled as disorganized on the first day. It wouldn't reflect well on her dorm, since she was the de facto dorm leader.

The professor ignored her and went to the front of the class by his desk. Cassandra assumed that meant she was free to take her seat, but the look her teacher gave her when she started to walk towards her saved seat told her that wasn't the case.

With a flourish, the professor turned to face his students, hitting his pointer against the palm of his hand and firmly grasping it as he did so.

"My name is Divus Crewel. I am to be your instructor in the sciences and the art of potionology. You will address me as Professor Crewel or Master Crewel. Any other names will be met with detention.", he said this firmly, as if trying to further instill that this was an order, not a request. She could see Griffin subconsciously tensing at the sound of his officer-like tone of voice.

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