Welton Academy had a grandeur that always caused a mixture of fascination and discomfort in you. As you walked through the ancient, austere corridors, you felt that every wall carried the echoes of tradition and the weight of expectations that your father, Professor Keating, so often encouraged his students to defy. It was strange to be there, in a place where his father had such a profound influence on young people who saw him almost as a hero.

While you were admiring a collection of old photos, you took a false step and tripped, feeling your face burn as you lost your balance. Before you could compose yourself, a pair of firm hands grabbed your waist, helping you stand up.

"Are you well?" asked a gentle voice.

When you looked up, you found Neil Perry, one of your father's closest students, with a worried smile. He had warm eyes and a presence that seemed to radiate a deep calm, something rare in this hostile environment. You nodded, trying to recover from the embarrassment.