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Post by Serafina Latini on Jun 17, 2015 22:28:24 GMT -5
Chairs sliding across the stone floors. Books slamming closed and being shoved into bookbags for easier transportation between classes. The instantaneous uproar of voices coming out of nearly every student at once upon being dismissed - some being about the class, others being about subjects completely unrelated. From what she could hear, a majority of her fellow classmates didn't understand even the simplest bits of the assignment - things that she had learned during her fourth year - while she was sitting there pondering whether the professor wanted information regarding the loopholes that she was damn near positive wouldn't be addressed in the class.
Leaning back in her chair lazily, she waited for the last of the students to exit the room before she got to her feet and collected her books in her arms. She headed towards the front of the classroom to where the professor had his back turned towards her - erasing some writing from the chalkboard - and paused right in front of his desk.
"Professor Holland?" Her eyes flicked to the back of his head as she addressed him. "I was wondering if I could ask you a question about the assignment?" She asked, accent flowing freely from her tongue.
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jun 17, 2015 22:59:05 GMT -5
It had been a good first lesson. They'd spent their time reviewing some of the most important rules about the combination of various ingredients: which ones should never mix, which ones should only be mixed in well-ventilated areas, and other facts that needed to be fresh in students' memories in order for him to run a safe classroom. After all, there had been that one time his first year teaching ... well, that explosion was better left unremembered.
It was finally the end of the day. These first days of the school year always felt so long. It would take Pietro a few weeks to get fully back in the swing of things. Now, however, he was ready to kick back with a cigarette, a brandy, and a good book. And then ... his stomach seemed to drop all the way down to his toes. That voice ... that voice. He wasn't prepared for that voice right here, right now ...
Be professional. It wasn't as though he felt good about this attraction. In fact, he'd spent the summer doing his best to get over his entirely inappropriate crush. Last year, though ... that girl ... couldn't get her out of his head. Brilliant and beautiful and Italian and oh how he needed a cigarette.
He paused for a moment, trying to pull himself together, and then turned with a pleasant, professorly smile on his face. "Yes, Miss Latini?" he replied, stepping forward to reach for his coffee mug and down the last swig of now-cold coffee. It was disgusting - exactly what he needed. "What is it? Were the parameters of the assignment unclear?" His accent wasn't nearly as thick as hers was, but it was still the same in many ways - they were the same in many ways.
Except that he was a bad, bad man for recognizing it.
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Post by Serafina Latini on Jun 17, 2015 23:34:36 GMT -5
Frozen. She spoke, and the man standing before her - inches upon inches taller than her - froze in his place. Her eyes inspected the tenseness of his muscles, and she found herself imagining him shirtless. Ugh, it seemed no matter how hard she tried to fight off this little... Fantasy she had about this man, she couldn't keep her thoughts at bay.
'That's so inappropriate, Serafina. Stop it.'
At last, he turned around to face her, and she took in the magnificent green of his eyes. Sometimes she would catch herself spacing out, losing herself in his eyes as her tongue trailed slowly across her lips. And then he spoke, and his soft accent swirled about her inner ear before settling in with the most attractive of sounds. He was beautiful to look at, beautiful to hear, and his brains? Oh, if there was one thing she found more attractive than any and every thing else, it was a man who was beyond intelligent than the others. Sort of like how she was more intelligent than most females surrounding her.
"No, no, no," she replied with a shake of her head, her locks swinging about her shoulders as she did. "I was just wondering if information regarding the neutralizers was appropriate for this assignment?" She asked as she lowered her books a bit to rest on the edge of his desk. "Gilliweed to neutralize the ingredients with acidic bases, phoenix feather to neutralize the ingredients with basic bases, and then the numerous neutralizers for the neutral bases - depending of course on their specific makeup... Are you wanting that from us as well? Because with those neutralizers being at our disposal, there are very few concoctions that still absolutely cannot mix."
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jun 18, 2015 0:01:49 GMT -5
His eyes widened as he listened to her speak and made absolutely certain that his gaze didn't fall to her lips ... tantalizing lips spilling all this incredibly accurate information about neutralizers ...
He threw caution to the wind. Forget propriety, forget manners, forget inappropriate professor-student power relations. In his mind, she wanted him just as badly as he wanted her, and he leaned across the desk and interrupted her talk of neutralizers by pressing his lips against hers and sliding a hand up her neck to twine his fingers in her hair and pull her closer and -
No. Bad fantasy. She would be frightened, he would be taking advantage. He couldn't continue having these thoughts! And to think ... a day earlier, he'd thought himself over the ridiculous attraction. But, no, all it had taken was seeing her in class and then two words - "Professor Holland?" - and once again he was the same bad man he'd been at the end of the previous year.
Oh, but her question was impressive. He couldn't help but smile; he should have expected this from her. She'd always been the top student, smarter than all the boys ...
"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you know of the neutralizers," he replied, fingertips wandering aimlessly along the edge of his desk. "You do not have to feel obligated to address them in your assignment, but you would find yourself with some extra points if you did. We do not address the neutralizers until partway through the seventh-year curriculum; after all, those who depend too much on them and neglect their understanding of basic ingredient interactions often find themselves on the wrong end of explosions. But I do, of course, have them in the classroom. You could use them, if you so desire? I will show you where they are, if you would like."
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Post by Serafina Latini on Jun 18, 2015 0:32:50 GMT -5
That smile. Merlin's beard, that beautifully glistening smile. Her heart felt like it was melting, the fluid rolling down her body to begin pooling into a puddle at her feet. How could a man be so absolutely perfect? It was mind boggling. All of the boys in her classes who vied for her affections were idiots and nothing even close to what she wanted, and as for her suitors away from the school? All of them boring. None of them intelligent. Wealth was all they had to their name, and as much as that was also a requirement for her, she was willing to throw all of her requirements out the window for this man standing before her.
Just a taste. Tongue along his lips, hand roaming through his hair. She was pushed on top of the desk but pulled to be pressed up against the length of his body. Her hands would move down his cheeks, the sides of his neck, and to his chest. So firm and so strong. His hands would start at her shoulder blades and begin to make their way down her back to her hips in an agonizingly slow fashion.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. He was a teacher. He didn't want to have that sort of a relationship with her, and she would be an absolute idiot to think otherwise. And if there was one thing she refused to be, it was an absolute idiot.
'Extra points? Does that involve your tongue down my throat? ... Vulgar. What is wrong with you today?'
"Well, you know how much I try to get ahead in class, so the extra points would be great," she replied, flashing him her own radiant smile. Goodness, the children they would make would be the prettiest creatures to ever walk the earth with their beautiful smiles and eyes and wonderful smarts. But as he offered to show her where the neutralizers were kept and give her access to them, she quickly obliged. Anything to spend another few minutes with him would be perfect. "I would appreciate that a lot. It would give me an advantage to allow me to get my work done faster. And, if you would like some help with papers or with the other students, I would be happy to lend a hand."
'Of course he doesn't want that. You're a female. Shut up before you ruin this opportunity for more alone time with him.'
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jun 18, 2015 4:04:06 GMT -5
Wait, was she ... she wanted to ... don't misinterpret the dedication of a brilliant student. No, her offer couldn't have anything to do with him. It was the subject matter. She was fascinated by the subject matter, and of course she was! It was amazing material! He was just her professor and she liked Potions. That was it, that was all -
his veins would scorch when he finally touched her, the heat of desire, the fire of lust -
or was that fire and brimstone? because he would certainly earn his ticket to Hell if -
He cleared his throat, nodding as he walked out from behind his desk and made his way to a set of cupboards in the back corner of the classroom. "Well, there is certainly precedent for older students to ... to pursue their studies by acting as teacher's assistants in subject areas that interest them. And you are certainly capable. So, if you have a free period and you would be interested in that credit, then it could be arranged."
Hell awaits you, Pietro. You are a very bad man. Your motives are impure.
Resolutely not looking at her for the moment, Pietro opened the uppermost cupboard and then took a step back. "The neutralizing ingredients are stored here, in the top ... ah, hmm." That was when he realized how very tiny she was. She was unlikely to be able to get at the neutralizers on her own. Meeting her eyes once again, with an apologetic smile on his lips, he added, "it is a bit tall, I realize now. But they could be moved? I could move them. I should do that, really."
What was he doing? He was rambling like an idiot! What was wrong with him? Long day, that was all. It had been a long day, and the first day, and he was tired, and he was abysmally stupid for falling head over heels for his student.
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Post by Serafina Latini on Jun 18, 2015 10:11:38 GMT -5
Much to her surprise, he was willing to allow her to work alongside him during one of her free periods, which - given how many credits she had already accumulated early - she had a few of. Truthfully, she really didn't even need the Potions class she was taking this year. Her test scores during her sixth year had pretty much exempted her from this class, but...
'An entire year without him? Absurd!'
"Alright. I will talk with the head of the Student Affairs department later today. I have quite a few free periods, but if you would rather a male assist you during your lectures, I completely understand."
'But please, for Heaven's sake, let me assist you. Let me fetch your coffee in the mornings and run your shoulders when you're tired after a long day... Oh, please..'
He opened up the cabinet, and she had to get on the tips of her toes to even see the first row of ingredients. After that first row, though, her vision was lost to the uncomfortable height difference. "I'm sorry," she said with a shake of her head. "My mother is a very short woman, and I was lucky enough to even reach this height. Don't worry about moving them, though. Too much trouble for you, Professor. I'll get a stepping stool to stand on," she said politely, smiling up at him in a reassuring fashion. "They're fine where they are, I promise."
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jun 18, 2015 14:08:56 GMT -5
"If you would rather a male assist you ... "
Now, that was an interesting point. Would he rather a male be his teaching assistant? In all honesty, when he'd first had Miss Latini as a student three years earlier, he hadn't expected much of her. After all, she was a little rich girl and, in his experience, little rich girls often didn't put much effort into intellectual pursuits. She had surprised him, though, and he was not so boorishly stupid as to overlook her achievements due to her gender.
Once she'd made it clear that she was, intellectually, miles beyond the others, she'd quickly become his favorite student. His first year teaching, twenty-two years old, and he was lucky enough to have one of those students all professors hoped for: capable, interested, driven, excited about learning the subject ... the type of student who made all the other annoyances of teaching fade away.
The problem hadn't started until the previous year, her sixth, when she'd turned - seemingly overnight - from a little girl to a brilliant, breathtakingly gorgeous young woman. And now ... well, maybe his motives were impure. Maybe he'd toyed with the idea of walking up to her on her graduation day - only nine months away! - and asking her for a date. And, certainly, she would be repulsed and she would reject him, but at least he would have asked.
Regardless, it would be immensely unfair at this juncture to deny his brightest student an opportunity she wanted simply because he couldn't keep his mind out of the gutter. He was her professor, and her education had to come first in his mind or he wouldn't be doing his job. He just needed self-discipline. He just needed to control his own mind, which was something he was usually good at.
He found himself slipping into Italian, then. It was the language in which he spoke more clearly, less likely to fumble or continue rambling like a fool. "I prefer the most competent to assist me, and that is you. In all of my years as a teacher, it has always been you. You are a singular young lady, Miss Latini. Do not forget that."
Oh, no, and now she was smiling up at him and he was smiling back and the eye contact was possibly skyrocketing right out of appropriate-student-professor territory, so he broke it, closed the cabinet, and started to make his way back towards his desk. Clearing his throat, he added, "Well, if that is all right, I will acquire a step stool for your use as soon as possible. And it will be wonderful for the younger students to have your assistance. I am certain you will make a skilled teaching assistant."
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Post by Serafina Latini on Jun 18, 2015 18:49:40 GMT -5
Her palms were sweating, and her insides felt as if a nuclear blast had liquefied them. Their proximity was so very close - almost as close as that one time during her fourth year. She had been late to class, which was extremely unusual for her, and it was the first day of Potions class with the newest professor. Of course she would get off to a bad start with a new professor, and she was irked by the fact that she would have ground to cover in order to make up the lack of trust that would instantly be distilled in her teacher from her lack of timeliness on the first day of class of all days.
So, she moved as quickly as possible through the crowded halls towards the classroom, looking at a giant clock on the wall to show she was five minutes late. Eyes still focused on the clock as she burst through the doorway, she hadn't been paying attention to where she was going and ended up running smack dab into the center of someone who smelled wonderfully of fresh soaps and cologne and who towered over her tiny frame. Stumbling back a couple steps in an ungraceful daze - again, very unlike her - she glanced up to take in the appearance of the most attractive man she had ever seen in her entire life.
"Miss Latini, I take it?" The man asked, dusting himself off from their run-in once he realized she wasn't injured. "Perhaps next class you can manage to be on time as well as remember to look where you're going," he suggested before nodding towards the one empty seat left in the class. "Take a seat and pull out your textbook."
That was when it all started. The first day of class of her fourth year had turned her life upside down. It was strange to have a gut feeling in her stomach that she just met the man she was "destined" to be with, but it was there and strong. And when Serafina wanted something, she got it... Even if it took her a while. After all, she had to be tactful about something like this given it's dangerous nature.
Oh, Italian. Such an eloquent and easy-flowing language to speak, and when it drew out her professor's accent, she was just that much more intrigued by him. The two had communicated in Italian a few times throughout the years, but it never got old. Ever. And on top of that, he was telling her that she was his most competent student? And that it had always been her? That twinged her cheeks with pink, but she managed to keep her composure poised and classy as always. "I appreciate the compliment, Professor Holland, and if I may say so, you have been my most helpful and instructive professor in my seven years here. It is because of your class that I have been considering doing my own private potions research. After all, what is a stay-at-home wife supposed to do in her free time when all the chores are done?"
Oh, and how she wanted to be his stay-at-home wife.
She deflated slightly when he shut the cupboards and stepped back over towards his desk, but the agreement to find her a step stool confirmed that she had "gotten the job." It felt as if her heart had just shot out of her chest on some sort of strange joyride, and she couldn't help but to keep smiling. "Thank you, sir," she said with a curtsy, moving towards his desk as well to collect her books from it. "I look forward to working with you, and I will get to work on that assignment after dinner."
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jun 18, 2015 19:39:37 GMT -5
What on earth was wrong with him? She mentioned the words "stay-at-home wife" and his head was immediately filled with the image of her in his sitting room at home, smiling up at him as he returned from a long work day, asking how he was doing, informing him of the menu she'd had the cook prepare ... and he'd take off his shoes and loosen his tie, sit down on the couch and gather her into his arms and bury his face in her hair and this was wrong, so very, very wrong!
He cleared his throat and sat heavily in his desk chair. "Well, I am certainly pleased to hear that I have been helpful to you. Especially because ... well, intelligence is a terrible thing to waste. I ... "
But it wouldn't be him, of course. It would be one of the students. Which one would she settle for? He'd seen them all eyeing her, sidling up beside her, trying their best to flirt. Boys ... foolish boys, unworthy of Serafina, but certainly she would have to accept one of them and that fact was pure torment.
He found his hands shuffling aimlessly amongst the papers on his desk, pretending futilely that he had something terribly important to do. "Well, I must get back to work, but I will look forward to reading your essay. Good day, Miss Latini."
One more brief smile, and then he looked down at the papers, not seeing them, just trying desperately to look like a professor rather than a lovestruck boy.
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