The Teacher

"Yes, the south corridor on the second floor. I remember seeing Mr. Longbottom with a few—forgive me, I didn't get a clear look at which House those young wizards were from."

"Slytherin."

"How many were there at the time?"

"Three."

"OK, I remember..."

And so, Kayson guided Neville step by step, coaxing the truth out of him piece by piece.

Of course, it went through a bit of artistic embellishment—like Neville fighting all three alone and only barely losing in the end.

Also, that Kayson had spotted him and forcibly dragged him to Professor McGonagall's office, rather than him hiding in a stairwell crying his eyes out.

Naturally, a parchment with the real account of what happened also found its way into Professor McGonagall's hands.

She listened to the artistically polished version of the truth with her ears, while her eyes read the raw truth on the parchment...

Soon enough.

"Make yourself comfortable here, Professor Kayson. Mr. Longbottom, come with me." Professor McGonagall sighed, took Neville by the arm, and left the office.

As for Kayson...

Had Professor McGonagall just told him to wait a while? Maybe there was still something left unsaid. He'd wait, then.

Before long, Professor McGonagall returned to the office.

"I really must thank you for the trouble, Professor Kayson."

"No trouble at all. How was it settled in the end?"

"The ones who clashed with Mr. Longbottom were three first-year Slytherins: Mr. Draco Malfoy and his friends and hangers-on, Mr. Goyle and Mr. Crabbe." Professor McGonagall brewed a pot of black tea for Kayson.

"Malfoy. I met him briefly once at Flourish and Blotts. Seemed like a cute kid back then. What was the final decision?" Kayson let out a long sigh.

"Slytherin lost thirty points, but honestly, that doesn't amount to much. Those thirty points will be back before long, tacked on by Severus under one pretext or another." Professor McGonagall said.

"Points only rein in the honest, honor-driven young wizards... Frankly, that punishment might as well not exist." Kayson grumbled.

"That's exactly how it is. We've grown used to it over the years. Gryffindor and Slytherin—hexing each other at school, trading barbs in the workplace after graduation, and eventually settling scores with their wands."

"Honestly, we're all accustomed to it." Professor McGonagall explained.

"Still, that doesn't mean we should just... let this kind of bullying slide."

"Unfortunately, but actually... please don't repeat this outside." Professor McGonagall gave a preemptive warning.

"Mm-hmm."

"These minor conflicts among students can, in a way, be considered part of Hogwarts' teaching strategy. In a certain sense, it's meant to spark young wizards' thirst for knowledge, because learning magic can tangibly and immediately improve combat ability."

"From ancient times to the present, Hogwarts' young wizards have always progressed through this back-and-forth of mutual attacks."

Kayson felt a knot of discomfort in his stomach.

"I don't understand... Well, what you're saying is easy enough to grasp, but it still shocks me. Won't this push young wizards into psychological trouble?"

"All I can say is, Hogwarts has produced plenty of madmen over the years. Fortunately, every generation of the Hufflepuff Head of House has taken on the role of psychological healing, which is why Hufflepuff students get along so well both at Hogwarts and beyond." Professor McGonagall replied.

"...Was I meddling by bringing Neville Longbottom here today? Let me be clear—I'm just asking. But if I run into a situation like this again, I'll still step in. How Hogwarts uses this 'breeding pit' model to boost students' combat ability is Hogwarts' business, but I can't turn a blind eye to bullying and do nothing." Kayson said very seriously.

"Of course not. Neville is an exception. He's too honest—too honest to fight back."

"Why? His family situation? I recall... well, I recall that very few of this generation's young wizards come from happy homes, thanks to Voldemort. But why is he the only one like this?"

[Trust from Professor McGonagall +10]

"I don't know much about the Longbottom family's private affairs, but perhaps it's Mr. Longbottom's grandmother. That woman is far too domineering—domineering to the point of being intimidating." Professor McGonagall speculated.

"Does Hogwarts support home visits?"

"I wouldn't advise it, unless you want to see headlines in the next day's Daily Prophet about old Mrs. Longbottom laying waste to Malfoy Manor."

"I see just how domineering that old lady is." Kayson quickly scrapped his home visit plan.

"Anyway, I'm still very grateful that you brought Neville here. Ah... perhaps he should have been sorted into Hufflepuff. Then he wouldn't have to suffer such unfair treatment."

"Mm-hmm."

Kayson left Professor McGonagall's office. Having gone through these two incidents, his plan to knock out the Flourish and Blotts clerk with a sap in the dead of night was temporarily shelved.

He returned to his own office. Since these squabbles among young wizards were an unspoken rule of Hogwarts, perhaps he could still make a small difference.

He understood what Professor McGonagall had said. The wizarding world wasn't like the Muggle world. In a sense, the wizarding world was a bit like... a jungle society—not particularly civilized, and in fact leaning toward social Darwinism.

As a Hogwarts professor, he could easily protect a student, or even a group of students, within the school. But they would all graduate eventually.

What about after they left Hogwarts? Would he extend his reach out into the magical world and keep protecting them there?

Even Dumbledore couldn't necessarily pull that off.

Protecting the weak—he couldn't do it. At least, he couldn't keep doing it forever.

So the only option was to give the weak the strength to fight back themselves.

Take Neville Longbottom, for example. If he could be sorted into Gryffindor, the House of courage, then there had to be a hidden, unspoken bravery buried deep in his bones.

Perhaps he could change something in the boy's mind, make him pick up his wand and dare to resist.

That way, he would have fulfilled what a professor, a teacher, ought to do.

A teacher: to impart knowledge, teach skills, and resolve doubts. His own alchemy was half-baked—he might not be able to manage the first two.

But helping a young wizard fight back against bullying, or casting off the cowardice in his heart so he could bravely protect himself—that counted as a different kind of doubt-resolving.

After all, a teacher was defined by these three things. As a professor at Hogwarts, he had to claim at least one.

Otherwise, how could he have the face to let the little wizards call him "Professor" while still drawing a salary from Hogwarts?