Small arched windows lined the left side of the room, flanked by delicately carved mahogany cabinets with a long, worn wooden countertop spanning most of the wall beneath them. Against the right wall were several bookcases with lush tapestries hung on either side. The bookcases themselves were brimming with dusty old tomes, some leather-bound, some shut with locks, some glowing eerily. The sheer number of books contained within the classroom made the entire space smell of musty old wisdom.

All around the classroom was the occasional diagram scrawled onto a canvas and hung up. Each appeared more complex and esoteric than the last. And set down beneath them, or floating gently and dreamily amongst them, or whirring softly alongside them were all manner of little bronze contraptions, none larger than a foot in diameter, all painfully intriguing. Indeed, the more interesting one such bauble appeared, the less obvious its purpose seemed. The entire room was filled with a gentle hum and a warm golden shimmer from their presence.

At the front of the classroom was an imposing, nearly black, opulent desk with two books stacked neatly on top of it, a jar of ink so vibrantly midnight blue that it nearly hummed with energy itself, and a large, dark gray ostrich quill. Behind the desk was a movable blackboard, with another peculiar diagram etched upon it in a glowing white. A flight of wooden stairs led up to a brief landing and a large coffered door which presumably led to the professor's office.