Arithmancy Classroom (Lessons/Homework may be posted separately)

Professor Abraxas Magnus's arithmancy classroom is triangular in shape, with a semi-hidden spiral staircase leading directly up to his office. Desks are all clustered about in the center as opposed to going across from side to side. Books, number charts, the odd gadget here and there, and a desk upon a dais can also be found here.

Stop on in for lessons or to see if the professor is in and willing to have a little chat while he grades a few papers.

Becca and Delilah walked inside the class for a lesson on Arithmancy. They sat down at a desk and waited for the lesson to start, while waiting they started to chat a little.

Abraxas sighed as his foot hit the last stair from his office. He'd been a hermit for so long... could he truly handle a class of students? At the time he applied for the position it seemed like he could pull it off. But now... well, now was the official test in his abilities.

Upon reaching the archway into the classroom, the aged wizard spotted two female students already awaiting him. Vaguely he wondered if this would be the extent of his class, or if more were arriving. "Well, hello there," he greeted the pair, just as a few other students came through the door on the other side of the room. They appeared to be Slytherins and not exactly the sociable type.

"Welcome to Arithmancy," he addressed the students at large. "Let us wait just a bit longer before class begins; see if any more students arrive. Meanwhile, allow me to introduce myself: I am Abraxas Corvinus Magnus... Professor Magnus or simply Abraxas will suffice. Or 'Corvin' if you prefer. I daresay the commonality of the name 'Abraxas' died out in the past half-dozen decades..." As he said his name, and various aliases, they appeared on the board with a little magical assistance.

"And whom shall I be teaching today?" he asked, focusing his question at the chatting pair.

"Nicolas Casillas and Diana Vaight," Nicolas said as he entered the classroom. Diana who was following him sent him an annoyed glance and he simply looked at her innocently.

"Diana Casillas, sir," Diana said hanging back so she wouldn't sit with Nicolas. Shrugging Nicolas sat in the seat closest to him.

((New Timeline))

Abraxas shuffled into his classroom, the cold weather wreaking havoc on his one-hundred-some-odd year old bones. The mug in the wizard’s hand contained the steaming contents of hot chocolate and whipped cream. Although, it was no ordinary cup of hot chocolate – rather, it was a cup of hot chocolate fortified with a potion meant to ease the arthritic pains of an old man who spent most of his days in past and present bent and hunched over many an old and dusty tome. In the other hand Abraxas clutched his wand. From the previous gathering in his classroom he erased his name, and instead wrote the following number chart in the air, the wand transcribing the markings in the air onto the chalkboard:

Agrippan / Pythagorean
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
A B C D E F G H I
J K L M N O P Q R
S T U V W X Y Z


And to the far right he drew the following chart:


Chaldean
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
A B C D E U O F
I K G M H V Z P
J R L T N W
Q _ S __ X
Y



Between the charts he wrote the word “ARITHMANCY”, and drew a line between the ‘h’ and the ‘m’. Just beneath the letters, Abraxas inscribed a triangle. Beneath the point on the left he wrote the word ‘arithmos’ first in the original Greek, and then again in English. The wizened wizard did the same to the other side, only with the word ‘manteia’.

Examining his handiwork via the bottom of the hot chocolate mug he held, Abraxas cheerfully took a seat behind his desk and cracked open one of his trademark dust-faded tomes to read while awaiting his students.

Whistling, Nicolas entered the classroom with time to spare.

He grinned at the direction of the Professor and quite happily chriped, "Good Morrow Professor!"

Abraxas’s ears perked up at the sound of whistling. He might be an old man well on his way to being one and a quarter centuries old, but his hearing was still as sharp as ever. Aged eyes glanced up from his book just in time to see Nicolas stride into the room. “Good Morrow, Señor Casillas,” the professor replied with equal pleasantness. “Pleasant Navidad?” he asked curiously.