The Professor In Narnia Novels & Stories

Even if it meant not being able to see him when I pleased. The door was pushed open, the sound of footsteps agaisnt the wood floors made me snap out of my head as I glanced towards the entrance, watching as The professor walks in elegantly. He takes him time to stroll up to me and I just gape at him in shock. For some reason I expected the professors to be old. His long frosty hair was braided into a low ponytail, his spectacles propped gently on the tip of his nose. His strong features were tight and stoic like that of a soldier's. I got up, feeling uneasy under his gaze.

Emma snickered as the professor glanced at us and shook his head, his lips twitching. "I'm your professor for this class and I hope we can get along well. Now, I'd love if we could drop the formalities as long as you're in my room, because all I do is teach royal history, and not how you should be chewing using your mouth." Several girls giggle.

He says, annoyance latched to his tone. What's his fucking problem? Tessa holds my hands and nods her head gently. I sigh and we both walk out of the door. "Why does he always keep lecturing?", I grimace. "Maybe he's a lecturer at this Academy?" Tessa replies. "Hmm. Maybe you're right." I think over it. I don't know half of the Proffesors here, except Professor Sheila. That brings me to the point… "What exactly do they teach here?" I ask.

Being married or not, I will still inherit the title and position. Napa-buntong hininga na lang ako dahil alam kung hindi lang to isang simpleng introduction, there’s more than meets the eye. A person who is a prodigy in magic would not be satisfied with simple things, they always crave for more. I’m starting to have a headache just by thinking things. Before everyone left the room narinig naming ang huling sinabi ni Professor James. “After that proceed to the Arivala Garden Field.” ‘Tsk.’

If he gaze grew any more intense I swear he could enter the Narnia in my brain. Look ahead you dimwit. The professor isn't standing on my nose. "Why are you angry?" He asked in a normal voice, not fazed by the teacher's presence. Why would he be? He's the bad boy. Bad boys are afraid of nothing. Well, you better be afraid of Joanna's wrath. I rolled my eyes at his stupid question. He didn't reply me when I messaged him, didn't return my calls and then asks this stupid question. Are all guys this stupid?

Nellie proclaimed proudly. “But Nellie, isn’t he scary?” asked Joanna. I shook my head at Joanna’s question and Nellie was about to say yet another sentence when the noise dissipated. We all turned to the person who was entering the door; it was our Ancient History of Mahò and Gaearandys professor, headmaster Nathaniel Arammi. The headmaster greeted all of us with a bright smile, as bright as his red hair. Everyone answered back. Standing with our heads bowed, one hand at the back and the other on the stomach, one foot forward and another bent towards the back. “Greetings to the headmaster!” the mahò users chorused. The head master nodded and headed to tribune beginning his lecture.

I turned the corner near the older faculty offices and froze. The door to Professor Harlan’s office, an older economics lecturer known for being strict and married, was slightly ajar. Moans and the unmistakable sound of flesh slapping flesh spilled out. I should have kept walking. Instead, morbid curiosity pulled me closer. I peeked through the gap.

“Then I can go to sleep and hide the light.” "You are pushing your physical limits too far, Miss Cross." A soft, calm voice spoke from the shadows ahead. I stopped walking and lifted my head. Professor Pendelton stepped out from the dark doorway of the advanced magic history classroom. He was an old man with long grey hair and kind, wise eyes behind small round glasses. He wore his formal professor robes, but he was not holding any books. He was looking at me with a very serious and heavy expression. "Good evening, Professor Pendelton," I said softly. My simple English was flat and steady, hiding my pain. "The classrooms are already clean for tomorrow."

“You’re the screamer.” Great. “I’m Lira. Shadow fae. You?” “Seraphina. Human—I think.” She snorted. “Not with that power surge you pulled earlier.” I opened my mouth to ask more, but then the room fell silent. The professor had entered. He looked normal—clean-cut, gray suit, salt-and-pepper hair. Except for one thing. He made no sound. His footsteps were silent. Not even a whisper on the marble. It was as if the air had carried him.

On the other side of the door, Selly clamped her own hand over her mouth, desperate to swallow every moan. She hadn’t expected Professor Alex Harrington to summon her the second class ended, let alone demand she satisfy his forbidden hunger right here on campus. The lecturer’s office was dead quiet, the kind of silence that amplifies every heartbeat. Selly’s breath came in ragged gasps. Professor Alex Harrington—late fifties, still built like a linebacker, with a stare that made the girls whisper—loomed over her, a smug curve on his lips. His white shirt hung open at the collar, sweat glistening across the hard planes of his chest.