Awful titles aside, I do need to give fair warning that this drabble is liable to infrequent updates and possibly not being finished. Obviously I'm focusing on my other drabble at the moment, as well as exam work which is already pouring in, but I'll do my best to write more of this when I can. I'm also not sure how many people will know the crossover
ETA: I
should probably add that this does contain spoilers.- X -
There was something almost compelling about the visiting professor, Con thought idly, as she sat listening to his strictures on death in literature. Her attention wanted to wander during his lectures, which were long and complicated, but he managed to hold everyone in the room in his thrall as he discussed what was, for her, a deeply interesting subject. Possibly it was the evident interest in his voice, or perhaps it was his eyes; as a member of Upper VI, she was sat in the back row of the room, looking over the heads of the Fifth Formers as well, but she could still see the twinkle in them as he talked.
Certainly part of what attracted her so much was the evident enthusiasm he felt for his subject. Mr Roote was a well known name in his field, especially after the release of the book started by his mentor, Dr Sam Johnson, but even more so now that he had released his own work on the subject. In fact, it was thanks to the latter work that he was here at all; he was doing a tour of Switzerland, giving talks on Thomas Lovell Beddoes, and had given in to Miss Annersley and agreed to spend a fortnight at the Chalet School, talking about literature more generally. His arrival had been something of an excitement for all those involved, but in particular for Con, who rarely found people with the same enthusiasm to literature as she had. But the way he quoted large chunks of the text from memory and explored it as easily as he had been known to talk about the weather convinced her that here was someone as committed as she was to the subject.
In fact, when he had come, he hadn't let them down at all. The first evening of his stay he had entertained the staff with his wit, charm and good looks, and had managed to make an equally good impression on the students when allowed among them. Miss Annersley had always said that a member of staff would have to sit in on the lectures, she was sure he'd understand that with a strange man staying only a short time extra precautions had to be taken, but when she heard the first, she resolved to be present at them all. Despite being a teacher of many years who had equipped countless pupils for their English degrees, she found herself learning from this mysterious man.
Of course there had been some research into his background before he was invited to give the talks, but there really wasn't much to find. Until some years ago, when he had first inherited the rights over the long anticipated work on Beddoes, he was virtually unknown, to an extent almost suspicious in itself. After its publication, he had once again dropped from the official radar, though this time her sources were able to suggest that it was connected to an accident which left him paralysed from the waist down, and for which he had gone to seek treatment.
His lecture was drawing to a close now, as he made his concluding remarks and began to gather his sheets together, his hands shaking he was apparently so moved by what he had been talking on. Around the room, the girls were collecting themselves, recalling themselves to the world in which they lived, rather than the one that they had been transported to with him. It even took the Head a moment to realise where she was, and then she shook herself and swept up to the desk to congratulate him in a low voice, until the girls were stood and ready to file out.
Only Con Maynard hung back, hovering at a safe distance to wait for Miss Annersley, with a smile, to remind her not to be late to Abendessen and sweep out of the room. Then she approached the desk shyly, her questions already prepared. This was a ritual played out at the end of every daily talk, as she came to question him on his views, or debate the possibility of applying his theories to another work of literature, or in another way. Nobody thought to question it, knowing how keen Con was over her English, and never dreaming that there could be an ulterior motive on her part.
Thanks for
the comments! Hopefully even if people don't know the crossover they'll
recognise it after this bit! Small warning on language; I'm afraid that
Miss Annersley (and yourselves) might be slightly shocked by one of the
main characters, but I'll keep him in check as much as possible,
promise!
(And
he'd give Franny a good kicking too!) 
)
What
doesn't make sense? 
(the actor,
I mean!)