Basil felt his patience begin to thin. It was moments like these that made him wonder if he was really cut out to be anything more than a professor one day. He’d always wanted a child in that abstract, I know it will happen to me kind of way, but the thought had never wrankled at him the way having a wife did. He’d actually become accustomed to the fact that one day, perhaps, he might actually have a little someone to impart more than just Transfigurative knowledge upon. He had Tillie, he supposed. She was as close to a younger sibling as he’d ever imagine, but a child… well it was different. Basil shifted a little in his position, legs growing tired. Mr. Waterford did not accept his handshake and Basil felt himself sigh at the response. “I suppose it is rather smart of you not to accept a stranger’s aid,” he mused, standing back to full height. Not all strangers were well-meaning. But if the boy didn’t want to cooperate, then Basil supposed there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t well force Mr. Waterford to accept him. Basil tugged down his waistcoat and turned a full expression of - pity? concern? weariness? - back onto the boy.
“Well Mr. Waterford, for sake of introductions I am Professor Basil Foxwood. I teach Transfiguration at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” He nodded politely towards the boy. Perhaps being treated a little more like an adult would help. “I don’t know why you found yourself in this scuffle but I dare say you could do better.” His chiding tone softened then and Basil crossed his hands behind his back. “If you do, however, find yourself in need of aid in the future - don’t hesitate to send me an owl.” And with that, Basil winked and turned to go. If the other let him, then that would well be that. He’d done what he could.