𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂 || 𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖

Chapter Five: His evil eye

Chapter Five 

The next morning, Matty awoke with a little bit less glee than she had the day prior. Why? She remembered today she'd start her first elective class of the year. Usually, this was exciting but this time she'd be taking her first class in Magical theory since Professor Fig's death—and under a new professor.

She almost felt bad for even taking the class in the first place, but it was an easy elective, and having more time to spend on other subjects would be very helpful. And Matty also wanted to see who this new professor was—even if it did feed into her superstition quite a bit.

Thankfully, she had this class with Esme, which would make it more bearable. Yesterday, when she was discussing her classes with her friends, Sebastian and Esme had given her a knowing look when she mentioned magical theory. She just curtly shrugged her shoulders, but she knew they knew it bothered her deep down.

Sebastian had contemplated talking about it with her but had ultimately decided not to. If she had chosen the elective, she could handle what came with it.

And now, Matty sat in the Magical Theory classroom waiting for it to start. Esme sat a seat away from her to her left. The class was made up of about ten students in total—Matty and Esme included and was one of the smallest classes in the whole school. One of the only other students she recognized was Everett, who sat in the very back of the class.

Then, the moment the clock struck nine, the door to the office at the top of the stairs in the classroom swung open harshly, making the eyes of every student in the classroom snap their heads up to where the door had just opened. It was sudden and it was loud—not exactly something you'd expect at the beginning of a class.

A man, maybe in his early thirties, began to walk down the stairs, arms folded behind his back. He had pitch-black hair and was dressed in a black suit and long overcoat. And a stern look was painted across his face. Not exactly the most welcoming type. His all-black appearance was a stark contrast to his pale skin. He had pale blue eyes but not the beautiful kind. Something in them struck a chord in Matty. There was nothing usual about this man already.

"Magical theory. The theory of which all magic is rooted in." He began to speak. His voice was smooth but with a bit of an edge to it as if he was unamused to be here. Matty glanced over at Esme, giving her a look as if to say her suspicions were confirmed somehow.

If she were to be completely honest, this guy looked exactly like some villain out of one of the story books she'd read. How could one not be suspicious of him?

"If you are in this class as a seventh-year student, I have reason to believe that either you have not come to understand the basics of magic, or you are wanting an easy way to slack off of work." Professor Willoughby said, sending an icy glare Matty's way for a brief moment. But she had caught the glare and her own eyes narrowed. "Well, slacking never got anyone anywhere. So don't expect this to be some easy retreat that you may have thought it to be."

Matty let out an internal sigh. Was she technically slacking off? Possibly. But she had a good reason. She wanted to focus on other subjects but still needed the credit of another class. But now it seemed that Professor Willoughby wasn't going to be nearly as easy on them as she had anticipated, and she began to grow internally frustrated.

Professor Willoughby began to write on the blackboard but was not gentle, the scraping of the chalk against the material of the blackboard screeched out across the whole classroom. There was no way he wasn't doing this purposefully. Not to mention his tone while speaking did not convey any form of joy to be here.

"Why take a job teaching if you hate teaching and don't even want to be here?" Matty grumbled to herself internally.

He began to go on and on about some magic theory basis and Matty tried to pass the time by jotting down some notes on her parchment. Then, out of nowhere, Professor Willoughby's wand cracked down at the edge of Matty's desk, snapping her attention up to him. He might as well have just cracked a whip at her with how loud the echo was.