Time seemed to slow as Melona saw a flashback of what her spellcasting would have looked like from her own, unaltered perspective. She remembered speaking the spell aloud, at which point a cloud of vapor burst from her chest. At that same instant, Professor Chantress was rounding the corner. She was sporting an effortlessly-determined look, as though she were walking to an appointment or grabbing a tool she needed.
Anger flashed in Chantress' eyes as she saw the spell burst out of Melona. With a practiced motion, she raised a hand in a defensive gesture, parting her lips in a snarl as she prepared to let out a counterspell--
--and then recoiled as Melona's spell simply flowed around her hand and into her ample bosom.
"Contr--" she began, but was silenced as the vapor rushed into her mouth.
By the time that Melona finished remembering what had happened, the spell was complete. Professor Chantress stood in the middle of the aisle. For some reason Melona thought that she'd appear dazed, but apparently not even the power of forbidden charmcasting could sap the woman's gravitas. Chantress paused for a half-second, then drew herself up to her full height, looked down at Melona, and spoke.
"What am I?"
The question was devoid of hostility, confusion, or any tone other than Chantress' default aura of innate, dignified superiority.
Melona sputtered for a second. "What?"
"I will repeat myself. What am I? You must tell me." The professor's tone (or lack thereof) was starting to scare Melona. Then again, Professor Chantress could read off her grocery list and it'd probably be frightening.
Melona quickly put a gameplan together. She'd been handed a golden opportunity right here. She didn't want to change her professor too much, but she wouldn't mind making Chantress more forgiving of whenever Melona made a mistake. Yeah, that's what she'd do, she'd--
"You must tell me now. What--" Chantress took a step forward, and, without thinking, Melona blurted out--
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