The day was… going. At the very least, his lecture had been as uneventful as usual, with only the sound of scraping quills and fluttering pages accompanying his explanations. Basil was almost lulled into a sense of complacency as he turned and gestured towards the wooden blocks. Perhaps this next hour would go well. There was plenty of time for the class to practice and so he began his rounds, starting on the opposite side of the classroom from Mr. Lissington.

(This is a notable fact for a few reasons, none the least of which showcasing Basil’s forgetfulness as to his fellow professor’s inability to transfigure a bloody toothpick. Gus being here at all had served as a relief rather than an alarm and so, again complacent and in his own little world, Basil had imagined himself safe to turn his back on the two redheads in the front row. Big bloody mistake.)

There was a general sound of concern - not so wholly unusual for his introductory classes, Basil thought - before a too-familiar whine called out for him across the room. Straightening from over a first year’s shoulder, Basil turned just in time to see Gus turning the scarf around his neck to stone. It was a scene that ought to have surprised and concerned him, but as realization hit, he couldn’t quite muster the energy to do anything but frown. (How had Gus managed to pass his bloody NEWTS? Basil wondered ironically to himself. Oh, that’s right…)

Beside him, a kid that bore a remarkable resemblance to Professor Bailey (and whom Basil very much did not recognize from the first year classes) grabbed Gus by the scruff and echoed the concern. “Tsk, Mr. Lissington—” Basil started, on the path to correct the redhead for calling him Basil and also less than amused by his shenanigans, when all of a sudden a spell went whizzing by his head and hit a column.

Grey hues tracked the motion and Basil ducked on instinct. The column that had been hit turned into a beautiful, plush pillow - a very nicely executed spell, he happened to notice - but it began to fold instantly. Stones fell from the curved architecture of the ceiling and a few of the first years screamed. Basil pulled his wand quickly to execute a shielding charm over the group closest to the debacle.

The side of the classroom began to crumble; apparently a weight bearing column had been turned. Basil made quick work of solidifying reinforcements, a few stones largening in place and holding the rest of the wall stable. By the time he’d remembered Lissington, the redhead was practically blue. A quick spell shot across the room and beamed him right in the face, the scarf falling loosely around his neck again— all fabric. Basil let out a quick sigh of relief amidst the settling dust.

His classroom looked like a carriage had crashed through the wall. There was a gaping hole where the window had once been and a pile of stones that had fallen from the ceiling, slowly stacking themselves in the corner. At least it was a relatively nice day out; cloudy but with no rain…“Is everyone alright?”

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