Chapter 58 Monday Night Detention
Chapter 58 Monday Night Detention
Chapter 58
At 6:50 p.m., Karen stood in front of the Transfiguration classroom, straightening the collar of his robe. The last rays of the setting sun slanted in through the high windows of the corridor, casting a long shadow of him. He took a deep breath and gently knocked on the oak door.
"Come in," Professor McGonagall's familiar voice came from inside.
Pushing open the door, Karen found the classroom had been converted into a makeshift office. Professor McGonagall's desk stood at the lectern, surrounded by piles of assignments awaiting grading and several tall stacks of reference books. The Scottish witch was wearing a dark grey robe today, and her hair was looser than at lunchtime, clearly indicating she had been working all day.
"Good evening, Professor," Karen greeted politely, her voice ringing out clearly in the empty classroom.
Professor McGonagall glanced up at him, then with a flick of her wand, a student desk and chair slid automatically to the front of the classroom. "Good evening, Mr. Hawthorne. Please have a seat. Your task tonight is to assist me in grading the second-year Transfiguration assignments."
Karen blinked, somewhat surprised. He had expected a harsher punishment, such as scrubbing the trophy room or cleaning the poisonous tentacles in the greenhouse.
Seemingly reading his thoughts, Professor McGonagall's lips curled into a slight smile. "What? You thought I'd make you clean the chamber pots? Hogwarts has house-elves who do that." She pushed a stack of parchment towards him. "Grading homework will allow you to reflect on the correct use of magic and reinforce your basic knowledge. Begin."
Karen took a black quill pen and opened the first assignment. It was a paper about turning beetles into buttons, the handwriting so messy it was almost illegible, ink stains and food scraps making some parts completely unreadable.
"Terrence Higgs," Professor McGonagall said without looking up, her red quill marking a few corrections on an assignment, "Slytherin Year 2. His theory is always stronger than his practice, if you can glean anything of value from that blob of ink, of course."
Karen struggled to decipher the writing on the parchment: “'The similarity in shape between a beetle and a button…' Uh…' can be achieved through… a symmetry transformation spell…" He looked up at Professor McGonagall. “This mentions the ‘Transylvanian inverse symmetry law,’ but the book says that such advanced techniques aren’t taught until fourth year.”
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Professor McGonagall looked up, a hint of surprise in her eyes. "Correct. It seems you have indeed read 'Intermediate Transfiguration Theory'." She nodded slightly. "Give Mr. Higgs a 'Good' and note in your comment that the theory he cited is beyond the scope of the course."
And so, the next two hours passed in quiet grading. Karen was surprised to find that Professor McGonagall would occasionally ask for his opinion on certain grading criteria, as if this were a normal tutoring session rather than a punishment. They discussed the characteristics of students from different colleges, the reasons for common morphological errors, and even some details of advanced morphological theory.
"Ravenclaw students often pursue theoretical perfection too much and neglect flexibility in practice," Professor McGonagall said as she graded papers. "For example, this one," she pointed to an assignment that Karen had just finished grading, "Arya Spinnet spent three pages analyzing the structure of the beetle's chitinous shell and the difference from a button, but only used two sentences to describe the actual transformation process."
Karen nodded. "Hufflepuff is the complete opposite. This assignment," he said, holding up another parchment, "details every step of the process, but has absolutely no theoretical thought of its own."
"Very accurate observation." Professor McGonagall rarely showed a smile. "This is precisely the value of teamwork; students with different traits can learn from each other."
When the clock struck nine, Professor McGonagall finally put down her quill, took off her glasses, and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Most of the candles in the classroom had burned down, casting flickering shadows on the walls.
"Mr. Hawthorne," she spoke suddenly, her voice softer than usual, "do you know why I chose this method for your confinement?"
Karen carefully put down her pen and placed the last corrected assignment on the stack of completed papers: "So that I...reflect on the proper use of magic?"
"Partly correct." Professor McGonagall put her glasses back on, her gaze behind the square lenses sharp and deep. "More importantly, I want you to understand that magical ability and moral responsibility are forever intertwined." She stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at the night sky. "You are very talented, even more so than many seventh-year students. But the greater the talent, the greater the impact you will have in the future."
Karen listened quietly, a sense of familiarity washing over him. In his original world, he had heard similar words—"With great power comes great responsibility." But hearing Professor McGonagall say them now felt remarkably similar.
"I understand, Professor," he said sincerely, his fingers unconsciously stroking the handle of his quill pen. "I may have been a little out of control at the time."
Professor McGonagall turned around, moonlight streaming through the window and illuminating her silver hair. "I'm not blaming you for defending yourself. Mr. Selwyn and his companions were clearly provoking you. But…" She paused, seemingly choosing her words carefully, "was a retaliation necessary to break four people's legs?"
Karen recalled the scene, Selwyn's threats to his parents, his insults, and his fingers tightened slightly.
"They threatened to harm my parents, Professor." Karen's voice was soft, but every word was as sharp as an icicle. "Muggles are almost defenseless against wizards, and I must make sure they never dare to have such thoughts again."
Professor McGonagall's expression became complex. She walked back to the table and sat down. "I understand your anger, Mr. Hawthorne. But violence often only breeds more violence." Her sharp gaze met Cullen's eyes. "Do you know why Albus Dumbledore is considered the greatest wizard of our time? Not because of his powerful magic, but because he always insisted on solving problems with wisdom and tolerance."
Karen didn't answer immediately. He recalled Professor Castor's drastically different teaching—"Fear is far more useful than respect." The two ideas collided in his mind, sparking a silent flame.
"You may have a point, Professor," he finally replied, "but I still believe that without sufficient power, others may not heed Professor Dumbledore's wisdom and tolerance."
Professor McGonagall raised a hand to interrupt him: "I'm not asking you to deny your actions, but rather that you learn from them. Magic is not a tool for showing off power, but a gift for protecting others and creating value." She suddenly changed the subject, "Speaking of which, what are your thoughts on Professor Eisenberg's behavior?"
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