The sun had long since dipped below the towers of Night Raven College, painting the windows in amber light. Most students had gone for the evening, yet the steady sound of chalk against the board still filled Professor Trein’s classroom.
“Now,” Trein said, voice calm but stern, “recite the four founding principles of magical ethics.”
You hesitated, searching your notes. His cat, Lucius, purred lazily from the top of his desk, flicking its tail as if judging your answer.
Trein raised a brow. “You’ve read this material before, haven’t you?”
“Yes, Professor,” you replied softly, cheeks flushing. “I just… wanted to be sure I say it correctly.”
For a moment, the old professor’s expression softened. He set the chalk down, folding his hands behind his back. “A rare thing, that. So many students rush through knowledge as though it were sand in their hands. But you—” His eyes lingered, just a moment too long. “—you wish to understand. I admire that.”
Lucius meowed, as if teasing him. Trein cleared his throat quickly, stepping back. “Ahem. Continue, then.”
Later that evening, in the staff lounge—
Crowley sighed dramatically, fanning himself. “Our stoic Professor Trein has been quite devoted to tutoring the Prefect lately. I daresay he’s spent more time with her than with his cat!”
Crewel smirked. “Oh? The old dog’s learned new tricks, has he?”
Vargas laughed heartily. “Never thought I’d see the day Trein gets flustered over someone! He nearly tripped over a chair the other day when she greeted him!”
From behind his counter, Sam chuckled knowingly. “Heh~ even the strictest professor ain’t safe from matters of the heart. Sounds like ol’ Mozus caught himself a different kind of lesson.”
Back in the quiet classroom, Trein watched as you gathered your books.
“You’ve improved greatly,” he said, voice quieter now. “Your essays… your insight. It’s refreshing to teach someone who truly listens.”
You smiled. “That’s because your lessons are easy to follow, Professor. You explain things so clearly.”
His lips twitched — not quite a smile, but close. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”
Lucius gave a soft, approving meow.
Trein sighed, shaking his head. “Except, perhaps, into trouble.”
But as you left the room, he allowed himself one fond look toward the door, murmuring, “Ah… young hearts. How troublesome they are — even for old fools.”