Professor Eldrin's Esteem

Professor Eldrin, a man whose robes seemed to have a life of their own, perpetually trailing him like a particularly enthusiastic shadow, peered over his spectacles at Boy. The boy, currently engaged in an intense staring contest with a particularly stubborn dust bunny that had taken up residence under his desk, offered a vague nod in return.

“Boy,” Professor Eldrin began, his voice a rumbling cadence that usually commanded the attention of the entire lecture hall, “your recent… *demonstration*… in the Transmutation class has, shall we say, raised a few eyebrows.”

Boy blinked, finally vanquishing the dust bunny with a flick of his wrist that sent it spiraling into the waste bin. He’d been attempting to transmute a pebble into a perfectly formed chocolate truffle. He’d managed to get it halfway there – a sort of gritty, vaguely cocoa-scented rock – before the bell rang. His classmates, bless their earnest hearts, had been struggling to turn lead into slightly less-lead.