Post by Gustav Lindberg on Jul 27, 2020 8:52:39 GMT 2
there's an art to life's distractions
Eleven years of teaching Transfiguration at Durmstrang, and Gustav had to admit - he didn't see resigning in his future any time soon. No, he enjoyed his job, even with all the paperwork that came along with it. It made him feel useful and without trying to sound conceited, he was. He was moulding the minds of the future, of the teenagers that one day would run this country they lived in, and the things they learned from art of Transfiguration... well, there were things that they would use for the rest of their life.
Ensuring the last of his croissant crumbs were out of his beard with a quick glance in the mirror he kept in his desk, Gustav clutched the coffee he'd been keeping warm since breakfast where he'd found himself too short on time to finish it, and waited for the Griffins who'd enrolled in his class this year to start making an appearance.
When finally, they were all accounted for, he cleared his throat and began to speak, his heavily accented voice cutting through all the chatter in the room. "Most of you should know me by now but for those who don't, my name is Professor Lindberg and I hope you're prepared to learn," he said, eyeing the few new faces in his classroom. "I know you're all likely sick of hearing classroom rules regurgitated at you by now, but I'm afraid you'll have to bear with me whilst I remind you of mine. There is to be zero nonsense in this classroom - no speaking out of turns, no silly little hexes or spells aimed at your the classmates you're can't tolerate, and so forth. Most of you are nearly adults, and so I expect you to act your age, not like first years. The other main thing to note is that I expect your best foot to always be put forward - assignments are to be turned in on time, spells are to be practiced out of class until you perfect them. Remember that it was you who decided to take my class and to achieve greatness, you will have to aim for it, it will not be awarded to you on a silver platter. If any of you are unable to follow these conditions, then I suggest you spare us of any future dramatics and leave now so I don't have to kick you out later."
With his small speech over and done with, Gustav took a long sip of his coffee before wordlessly lifting the white piece of chalk behind him, charming it to spell the word: CONJURATION onto the chalkboard behind him in neat, large letters. "Now, how many of you read the assigned reading of A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration during the holidays and can tell your peers who did not read the book what Conjuration is? Furthermore, who can go into a little more depth and explain what the dangers of Conjuring Spells can be?"
Plenty of things had changed about Durmstrang since Kalevi had been here last. There were new faces in the desks around him, faces that had been barred from the school until now, just like his grandmother had been all those decades ago. There was the presence of his cousin as a professor, which he'd never expected. Kirsi, among the likes of Lindberg and Dąbrowska? But some things never did change. The Transfiguration professor had been the same as long as Kalevi could remember, from his first year all the way to now.
And that was--strict and serious. That was unlikely to ever change. A younger Kalevi might have listened to the beginning of the lecture with wide eyes; seventeen-year-old Kalevi was flipping idly through the textbook instead. He'd read the text, although that had been a while ago; the precise details of the chapter they had been assigned were escaping his mind at the moment. But he'd always been good at Transfiguration, so it wasn't as if it would be a horrible tragedy. It wouldn't be long before he picked it back up.
He didn't much want to be the first to give answers, as it would make more people look at him than he really wanted, but it was hard to pass up the chance to look slightly more intelligent than the others. "It's making something out of nothing." Kalevi would be surprised if anyone didn't know that, but then again, not all of his classmates were especially perceptive. "All sorts of things--except food."