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Redstone, being soft in texture, didn't produce an ear-piercing sound when filed. With the door closed, it could almost pass as white noise for a night's sleep.
And so it went, until the middle of the night when Kasenhis, feeling thirsty, sat up groggily from his bed. He downed a glass of water in one go and, after some thought, stepped out of his bedroom.
In the corner of the office, Draco was kneeling and sitting against the wall, holding the file in his hand, completely asleep.
Seeing this, Kasenhis returned to his bedroom, retrieved a blanket, and carefully draped it over Draco. Yet, he still had no intention of preparing a bed for Draco or letting him return to his dormitory.
After all, people should bear the consequences of their actions.
Little Draco had no idea how deeply hurtful his venomous words could be. As his professor, Kasenhis kindly decided to help Draco understand the weight of his actions.
And so, the next day...
Draco felt the sunlight shining on his face and opened his eyes in a daze.
He reflected with great reverence on the nightmare he had endured last night—no blood, no darkness, no sudden jumpscares. Just a massive block of redstone and a small file were enough to instill profound fear.
But thankfully, the nightmare was over.
Instinctively, he tried to stretch his body, only to feel an overwhelming stiffness. He glanced down and saw it—redstone.
The block he had spent half the night filing was still two-thirds intact.
In his hand was the same tiny file.
"......"
Draco stood up, the blanket draped over him slipping to the ground.
Frustrated, he kicked the redstone block in front of him.
"Awo, ow, ow!" Unfortunately, while redstone was soft compared to rock, it was still much harder than Draco's foot.
"Ahhhhh!!!!"
He instinctively stumbled backward, stepping on the fallen blanket with one foot while the other foot got caught in it. The opposing forces worked against him, and he fell straight backward.
The back of his head hit the ground heavily, though luckily, there was a thick wool carpet to cushion the impact.
A series of unlucky events, combined with the grievance of spending the entire night grinding redstone, overwhelmed Draco, and he broke down crying.
...
Meanwhile, Kasenhis stood outside the office door, holding a stack of invigorating potions. He paused, pressing his ear against the door to listen.
Only after the crying inside quieted down did he push the door open and step in.
"Drink this invigorating potion; otherwise, after spending the night here, you're likely to catch a cold." Kasenhis placed the potion on the coffee table, along with a sandwich and a bottle of pumpkin juice.
"By the way, that's your breakfast."
After grinding redstone all night, Draco was already starving. He picked up the sandwich and took a bite, but as he tried to swallow, his throat ached painfully.
He had already caught a cold.
"Judging by your progress… it'll take about twenty-one more days to finish and get out of detention," Kasenhis said, glancing at the redstone's wear and stroking his chin as he sat on the sofa opposite Draco.
Looking at the young wizard's mix of fear and resentment in his gaze, Kasenhis shrugged without much concern. It was just like a prisoner hating their jailer—perfectly normal.
Still, some explanations were necessary.
"Do you regret it?"
"What?" Draco looked up from his painful attempts to eat, confused.
"Do you regret using such a filthy term to insult… Miss Granger?"
Draco didn't answer and kept his head down, continuing to eat.
This kid.. sigh..
"Do you even know what 'Mudblood' really means?" Kasenhis asked.
Draco shook his head.
"That makes sense. Your father might occasionally use such words in your presence, but he certainly wouldn't deliberately teach you their meaning. After all, it's an incredibly vile term. This isn't just a casual slur against Muggle-born wizards."
"You could combine every insult you can think of—profanities, comparisons to animals, personal attacks, humiliation, curses—and they still wouldn't match the sheer malice carried by the true meaning of this word."
"I understand," Draco said dryly, his head lowered. Kasenhis wasn't sure if he truly understood or not.
"Once you finish eating, make sure to drink the invigorating potion. I've prepared fourteen bottles for you, but at your current pace, I'll need to get seven more from Madam Pomfrey. In other words, you'll need to endure this for the next twenty-one days."
drip-drip..
Hearing Kasenhis's cold tone, Draco couldn't hold back his tears any longer.
The tears he'd fought so hard to suppress broke free again, and the originally sweet sandwich turned salty in under five seconds.
"I hope you remember this lesson, Mr. Malfoy. After eating and taking the potion, you may freshen up here or return to your dormitory, clean up, and then go back to class. After your afternoon classes and completing the labor assigned by Professor McGonagall, return here and continue filing redstone blocks until all seven are done."
Draco listened, trembling, and looked up with a hint of grievance. "Can I take a leave of absence and just stay here to finish?"
"If you do that, other young wizards will end up learning far more spells than you. You wouldn't want to find yourself completely defenseless in the next wizard's duel or encounter, would you?" Kasenhis didn't outright refuse but calmly laid out the consequences.
"I'll come back after class," Draco said.
"Of course. If you don't, I'll have no choice but to go to Severus and personally fetch you," Kasenhis replied.
After Draco left the office, Kasenhis waved his hand to gather all the scattered redstone powder in the corners. It was good enough to directly use as teaching materials for fifth years.
...
Soon, the morning classes for first-years were about over. Draco returned to the alchemy office, looking dejected, and picked up the small file to resume his task.
As for Kasenhis, he paid no attention to Draco, calmly sitting on the sofa and brewing a pot of green tea.
By the time afternoon classes started, Draco would slink off again, dejected. In this manner, over just half a day, another third of a redstone block had been ground down.
Kasenhis was reasonably satisfied with the progress. If Draco maintained this level of efficiency, he might not even need to go back to Madam Pomfrey for another batch of invigorating potions.
Of course, the redstone itself was secondary. What Kasenhis truly hoped was that this young wizard, who spoke without thinking, would learn a valuable lesson from this experience.
After all, Draco was only eleven years old. A "young brat" was not yet permanently a "young brat"—there was still time for change.
And so, Professor Kasenhis naively believed that everything was moving in a positive direction.
Especially when, a week and a half later, Draco had nearly finished grinding down the final redstone block.
If not for the arrival of the four Gryffindor students, Kasenhis might have believed it.
Truly.
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