Not What it Seems

This little scene was inspired by a very strange picture prompt that I got from the WriYe DreamWidth (and have seen elsewhere in the past).


The headmistress had recently hired Calleigh Merryweather to teach magical flight to the students. The previous professor for the subject had retired to coach a broom racing team. Now, Sylvester was supposed to meet her and ask her to join them for supper.

He stepped into the new professor’s office and glanced around. The walls were a shade of purple that seemed out of place in the office. Most of them had walls of some neutral color: gray, white, cream…

He blinked when he saw a woman’s legs dangling down from above one corner of the room. Black leggings and gauzy skirts with… bright pink shoes. He frowned as he approached the legs, half-expecting them to move.

3841182a88c385536ecc3878baf8a5f4“Professor Merryweather?” he said, tilting his head to one side.


Whirling, Sylvester stifled a scream. The woman standing at the far entrance of the office, which led into the classroom, was petite and full-figured. She wore robes of powder blue with vibrant pink accents. He blinked as his cheeks warmed. “You’re Professor Merryweather?” he said, tilting his head the other way.

“Hm,” she said, nodding and stepping forward. She held out her hand to him. “You’re Professor Sterling, then?” she said, as he shook her hand. At his nod, she smiled. “It’s so very nice to meet you at last.”

“Likewise,” Sylvester said, frowning. He gave a weak smile and waved at the legs suspended from her office ceiling. “I presume there’s some explanation for… them,” he said.

Chuckling, Professor Merryweather shrugged. “Well, sometimes, telling students not to do something makes them all the keener to try it, right?” she said. She smiled at the legs. “I figured they might be served with an object lesson.”

“Don’t try flying indoors or… you might ram yourself through the ceiling?” Sylvester said, arching his brows. At her nod, he gave a weak laugh. “It’s going to be very interesting working with you, Professor Merryweather.”

She smiled brightly. “That’s exactly what Professor Lindsey told me,” she said, nodding. She looked back at the legs and shrugged. “He said they could also teach the students not to make assumptions. Not everything is what it seems to be on the surface, after all.”

Sylvester nodded slowly. “That makes sense,” he agreed.

“Was there a reason you came down here, Professor?” she asked, still smiling at him.

“Right,” Sylvester said, “I nearly forgot. I was sent to fetch you for supper.” As she slipped out of her office, he followed her. Something told him that there was much more to Professor Merryweather than odd color sense and a quirky sense of humor. He’d have to ask Clarus what he made of their new colleague.


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