He had skipped Tuesday. That was allowed. It was Wednesdays and Fridays that were mandatory. Tuesdays had just become habitual. They were a chance to do some reading or some extra practise, knowing that an adult was around. But he'd seen plenty of Professor Wright over the holidays, as he stood and spied on and judged Xavier's family.
Putting it off for an extra day had not made facing him any easier. It had given the anxiety and the anger an extra day to twist and grow, and heaped guilt and more anxiety at missing the lesson, unofficial though it was, on top of that. It would have been polite to tell Professor Wright he wasn't coming. The old rules, drilled into him so thoroughly, fluttered like a flag on a bombed out castle. Screw the rules. He didn't owe anyone anything when they were treating him this way.
He had spent the evening with Oz instead, who had done his usual fifty-fifty split between being sweet to the point it almost hurt and such a butt that Xavier wanted to smack him. They had gone skating, and Xavier had wanted to keep a chill in the air and bundle up in hoodies, but Phoenix Boy wasn't familiar with anything that cold. That in itself wasn't an issue, but Oz had been grumpy and prickly, and then - in usual Oz style - they'd had a fight over whether Xavier's use of chapstick was "gay." He didn't really want to be in a fight with Oz, but he also needed for Oz to think before opening his mouth for that to be possible, and apparently that was a lot to wish for.
He tried to push his grumpiness with Oz out of his mind as he walked towards the charms room, though that only made room for his grumpiness with everything else in his life. He was conscious of the vague, nagging sensation that he should ‘be a good boy.’ Everything he said and did reflected on his family. They could twist this, and make out that he was being moody after seeing them, so it must be related, be their fault and so on. But they were capable of taking anything and turning to mean whatever they wanted. They’d already shown that. But then, what was the point of trying to be what they wanted, when nothing they thought made sense? How could you predict that, or work with that? And keeping his head down had only gotten him so far. It hadn’t properly given him his family back.
Those were the thoughts that turned over in his mind, that went back and forth when he lay in bed at night. Right now he was just overwhelmed, and running low on options other than fight or flight. And he’d been told he had to be in this place, at this time, which ruled out one of those options. He shoved his way into the charms room and flopped down in his usual seat.
“Hi sir. Nice holidays?” he asked, his voice dripping sarcasm. “Get up to anything interesting?”
Gray had noted Xavier's failure to show up on Tuesday in his private notes, but had not made any official comment. It was an event. It could mean any number of things, but which, if any, it meant wouldn't be clear until he had more data.
He had not expected it to be hard to collect in the first place, but the next day, he was a little surprised just how quickly Xavier provided him with some. The second year came into the room already seemingly in full antagonist mode.
"A few things," he said amicably in response to the question, ignoring the tone in which it was asked. If Xavier wanted a fight, then responding to the tone would reward bad behavior more than anything. He had read books which indicated this over the years, though he had guessed it himself after he'd started teaching and had noted the responses he got when he responded to conflict in the way that came naturally to him, which were aimed at defusing it and smoothing things over for the most part and which hardly ever involved expressing indignation on his own behalf to anyone outside his immediate family or, rarely, a friend or two. "I spent more time here than usual, got a fair bit of reading done."
This, of course, was in reference to how, once he'd finally managed to slip out of the excruciatingly uncomfortable conversation with the parents, he'd spent most of his time on supervision duty pretending to read a book he'd grabbed off the library shelf at random - something about sub-temporal grounding, a topic which was only brushed on in the Advanced theory curriculum and which he didn't know much about. This was part of why he had actually read it later; aside from learning something interesting, he also supposed, now that he'd noted the existence of a book on the topic, that if he didn't learn about it, he was sure to end up with a Charms prodigy on his hands whose career aspirations hinged on the subject. In the library with the Lundstrom family, though, he had mostly just held it as a prop to give Xavier and his parents and siblings at least a bit of an illusion of privacy, even though they'd clearly known he was there. He had not failed to note the remarks that were clearly meant to carry over, and a few others as well.
"Is there anything you'd like to say about yours?" he asked, still politely, but with a slight shift in tone that acknowledged that the question had not been sincere and that he knew Xavier was getting at something. He almost said say to me about, but eliminated two words as too pointed. He had a feeling that Xavier was angry at him personally about...something, presumably midterm, but he didn't want to initiate a conflict if it happened he was wrong about that.
A few things. Here more than usual. Xavier felt a hot wave of anger flow over him, as Professor Wright packed their holidays into tidy little euphemisms, and acted like everything was totally normal.
He wasn't sure why he was surprised, or what he had expected after the holidays. But when Professor Skies had brought his family here, it had felt like a step forward. Like someone here might actually be on his side. Now though... It was all still 'wait and see, wait and see.' They had stood and observed, and they could pretend all they liked that the outcomes weren't up to them, but they were still standing there, drawing their own conclusions, just like all the MACUSA people had done. And passing notes to them.
"You tell me," he shrugged, as Professor Wright asked about his holidays. "You've got notes on it, after all. You'e got all your observations and conclusions," he snarled both as if they were dirty words. "What did you see?"
Professor Wright was so infuriatingly calm. Xavier wondered what would happen if he leaned across the desk and physically shook him. It was tempting enough that one of the bookcases gave a slight rattle.
Staff House: Aladren Subject: Charms Written by: Grayson Wright
Age in Post: 43
I'd say you're moving past 'grump' now.
by Grayson Wright
"I have more observations than conclusions," Gray said, still calmly. His eyes flicked in the direction of the rattling noise, but he didn't react further to it. It was mild enough that it was possible it was simply one of those occasions where the weight of the books shifted or the like, and if it was accidental magic, it was mild enough that he'd rather not draw Xavier's attention to it, lest he panic at the thought of losing control. "And I don't know how much I could get - out of the observations even if I wanted to, to - do that. Not when your parents were so clearly afraid. I can barely begin to guess what they'd be like normally."
He suspected they were at least a little ideologically rigid in general, just from the occasional routine-sounding notes in how they'd scolded and corrected Robyn, but he doubted there was any good to get from telling Xavier that. The boy was angry, thinking in black and white as twelve-year-olds were accustomed to do, and had begun their work together back in September by swearing to do anything to be allowed to go home. He wasn't going to be up for nuanced discussions about how things like his mother's excessive attention to verbal detail might have affected him growing up for a long time.
"If I had to guess anything about your family," he said instead, "and seeing you with them, it would be that you're all close - you especially with your mother and brother, am I right? From the way your sister acted, I would find it very hard to believe you were brought up hearing lectures every night that all magic is the Dark Arts or anything like that - they may have been afraid of me and Professor Skies, or of what they thought we represented, but they didn't look like they felt any differently about you than they did about your siblings"
Though now that he thought of it, mentioning the siblings reminded him of one thing he had found odd. Most parents, he'd gathered, did worry about their children when they sent them off to school. It was natural. So why had Mr. Lundstrom felt he needed to try to whisper the idea to his daughter, as though he thought it was an attitude that might put a black mark against him on some imaginary checklist? "I did wonder one thing - if Muggle schools were more like ours, if students only lived full-time at home as long as magical children do, do you think your parents would have been as anxious about it as, as they are about you being here?"
16Grayson WrightI'd say you're moving past 'grump' now.11305
More observations than conclusions. He'd noticed that Xavier's fanily was afraid. That really didn't take much noticing. Xavier was much more concerned with the supposed whys. Professor Wright seemed to be saying he didn't have many of those, or if he did, he seemed determined to keep them to himself. Even if he didn't have any, Xavier was sure the people at MACUSA would happily get creative filling in the blanks.
Professor Wright began digging in again. At first it seemed innocuous enough that he'd given half a nod, clear enough to be distinct, before he caught himself. His silence could, of course, be twisted just as easily as his words. But it felt safer. He tried to reign in the anger that threatened to make him rant, even though the best he could do was trap it just under thr surface, ready to force a crack and make its way out at any moment.
He gave a rigid shrug to Professor Wright's second question.
"You're the ones in charge of figuring out what's best for me. It doesn't matter what my family thinks or wants." He couldn't resist letting just a little of the resentment leak up to the surface. It also didn't seem to matter at all what they were.
It probably, Gray acknowledged to himself, had been naive to hope that the family visit would undo the regression he'd observed in Xavier in the lead-up to Christmas, but he had hoped nevertheless. The way Xavier stopped himself in mid-nod in response to a largely rhetorical question, however, indicated his hopes had been very much in vain. The little equilibrium they had managed, through painstaking months of work, to get the boy back to seemed to have flown out the window.
He made the effort to reorganize his ideas. It wasn't, he told himself, as bad as it could have been. Xavier was openly showing anger. That meant he probably still, at least, trusted Gray not to take up torturing him, or order someone else to do so. That was still better than the near-hysterical state the kid had been in back in September. He'd just have to make a mantra of that sentiment for a while....
Try as he would to repress it, after all, slight frustration was beginning to stir under the logical, reasoned responses. He and Selina had risked a great deal, allowing Xavier to see his parents. They'd also sacrificed time with their families, not to mention one of the precious few times in the year when teachers could stop being teachers for a while. There was no point in denying it, at least to himself - a little gratitude would have landed better than the show of attitude. As a reasonable adult, he knew it was absurd to even consider that - but just the same.
"If people in power took my opinions on what's best for my students into account, entire government departments would be either disbanded or severely rearranged," Gray said dryly. "Not to mention the amount of revision there would be to the legal code. But that's neither here nor there at the moment."
Possibly, he thought, he was about to tread too close to the edges of Selina's start-of-the-year guidelines to staff. He had, however, been given a fair degree of latitude to use his best judgment under the table in general, and Selina had proven willing enough to violate at least the spirit of the rules recently. The hell with it, then, he thought, and he continued.
"The only reason I am here is to hopefully help you learn to control your powers so they don't learn to control you, so you don't hurt yourself or anyone else by accident. If I thought that keeping you away from your family would save your life, I'd do everything in my power to keep you from ever seeing them again. Fortunately, I don't think that's the case. If you or one of your siblings told me differently, I'd believe it, but short of that, it doesn't seem likely that your family did the kinds of things to you that would drive you to fear and hate the thought of being a wizard so much that you gave yourself migraines trying to stop being what you are."
What happened to you? To all of you, even?
He bit back that question. That one was surely more appropriate for Lillian the on-call therapist or someone like that. He didn't know how to begin to go about digging delicately with that one, so he neither gave Xavier much room to lie nor pushed him too far, too fast.
"That," he continued from his previous point instead, "is why I'd like to help your family, too, potentially. My first priority, though, is always helping you, so it's helpful to know if your family is afraid of being separated in general, or if they're afraid because magic is something they don't know much about and don't understand. Clearly, the situation with your family affects your work, so if I understand them, I can probably get further with you."
16Grayson WrightJust call me Sherlock Holmes.11305
What was wrong with him? It was almost like part of him was standing outside, watching him say and do all this stuff, and it was trying to warn him to not be such an idiot, but he wasn’t listening. He didn’t speak this way to adults. He’d been raised better than that. Why the heck was he doing it now, when this adult had the power to snap his life in two?
That was probably part of the reason why. Another part was probably tiredness. Whilst everyone else had got a break from being on school mode during the holidays, he was neither rested nor refreshed. Not only had physically been forced to stay inside the school, but the degree to which he had to behave and perform to expectations had actually kicked up a gear or five. But all of that was hard to articulate to himself. He felt it. He had felt it throughout the holidays, and now he felt it in the form of gradually losing the battle against just screaming until his throat went hoarse, but he had trouble explaining.
Professor Wright wanted to disband entire government departments? That shocked him enough to pull him out of his own head for a moment. It sounded awfully like support. But then, in the next breath, Professor Wright said he would, if needed keep Xavier away from his family forever. The shelf that had shaken earlier gave a thunk, as it was pushed hard enough to tip back and smack the wall behind it. But then, Professor Wright was emphasising words—good words. The all important words. It was almost drowned out in caveats about how he and his siblings were welcome to turn on their parents at any time. But he had said it, right? He didn’t believe the accusation.
He wanted to help. Help Xavier’s family too. But mostly Xavier.
“Helping me means helping them. You’re either on our side—all of our side, or—” The obvious end of the sentence hung in the air. Theirs. But did he really dare divide the world up into them versus MACUSA? It was how it was, but which of those sides would Professor Wright pick. He had said he would disband departments. He had said he believed Xavier’s family. But he had to file reports on them. He had to take notes. They had kept him here at school in order to follow MACUSA’s rules. He knew the visit was supposed to be confidential, but he didn’t fully know from whom. He got the impression Professor Wright and Professor Skies weren’t rushing to tell MACUSA about it, and he was supposed to keep quiet about it, but it was in line with what they’d asked—no leaving, keeping an eye on all his correspondence.
And the things Professor Wright was saying were eerily family.
“Your mother doesn’t seem to like you being there.”
“No, not really. It’s not really normal to have to send your kids away.”
“It’s normal for wizards.”
“What am I supposed to say?” he asked. He didn’t expect to get a straight answer, because Professor Wright was very much a fan of the ‘what-do-you-think-throw-it-back-to-you.’ But he was also the adult who had been most honest, or seemed to have been so far. “What am I supposed to say?” he asked again, slightly louder, because he was tired, and he was scared, and he had never been told to keep a lid on it by Professor Wright. “This is what They did. They made it seem like it was just a normal, everyday conversation. Then they said we’d said all these things which we never did.” He leaned forward, holding his head up with his hands, pushing his hair back. His eyes scanned the empty space in front of him, like they were searching for some clue. Fat, heavy tears of frustration dripped down his cheeks. “And I tried to take it back, but it was too late. They said I’d said it. That we’d said it. They had all these notes and labels, even though there’s nothing wrong, there’s nothing. But you said you believe us?” That was the one thing, so far, that Professor Wright had said that was different. He tried to take a deep breath, but it snagged on the increasing number of tears. “I want my family back. I want them back. And it’s my fault they got taken away—that I got taken away. But nothing’s wrong. But the more I said it… They said my whole problem was arguing with wizards. How are you supposed to argue with wizards when they say the problem is arguing with them? But there’s nothing wrong. There’s not. There’s not, and I want to go home in the summer.”
13Xavier LundstromOkay, try this one, Holmes...152905
Us against the world. A romantic notion - but one which even romantic-minded people mostly, at least in books he'd read, seemed to know was unlikely to end well, whether it involved sexual/romantic pairings or family units. If anything, from his reading (admittedly, he was less familiar with the first kind, but he had read several romance novels once in an attempt to figure out what he was supposedly missing out on; it...hadn't worked), families who operated that way could have worse results than the other kind....
Perhaps he wouldn't have worried quite as much about that kind of thing, except that his bookcase had definitely moved in a way it should not have done without a noticeable force acting on it. A minor lapse in control like that could happen to anyone, of course, under the wrong circumstances, but Gray was emotionally composed enough that he highly doubted he'd done it. Which meant Xavier was lashing out, whether he knew he was doing so or not. Which...was not ideal.
Well. This is going well.
Quietly, he picked up some blank papers and Transfigured them into a stack of handkerchiefs, which he put on the desk near Xavier, assuming he'd gather that he was welcome to help himself and that he'd rather not have it pointed out that he'd lost control of himself even more emotionally than he had magically. At least this was, according to the limited literature, better than further attempts at repression, which had been the name of Xavier's game all year to this point. Other than that, he kept to himself and allowed Xavier to go on until he seemed to run out of words before responding to any of it.
"I'd say you seem to have said what you needed to say," he said. "To answer your first question." He suspected Xavier had intended more sarcasm, but he had answered a lot of questions, probably without realizing it. If the boy was spinning tales, then the stage was currently missing out on a great talent, and it explained why months of removal from whatever had passed for treatment in the summer hadn't seemed to do much to reduce Xavier's apparent fear and distrust of authority.
"For the rest...." He sighed. "As I said - I believe you. And I'm not going to try to pull a lot of extra meanings from what you've said, or what you say now. Understand?" He took care to speak quietly, and to try to sound as level and soothing as possible. "A lot of people who have parents who do, do mistreat them, though - they would also say nothing was wrong when everything was wrong. That doesn't mean I agree with how you were handled - I don't. But I would have investigated thoroughly, because parents have always been some of the people most likely to treat their children so badly that they can come anywhere close to, to obscurialism. It's not the only way, but it's one of the more common ways, understand?" And - justifiably or not, due to objective analysis or ingrained prejudices or anything in between - the presented reasons for distrusting the Lundstroms were reasonable enough on paper. He'd read the file, but didn't know how much of it had been revealed to Xavier, and therefore what assumptions he was operating under and felt he couldn't argue against. "So. What did they tell you they thought you said?"
Xavier needed a hug and a tissue. The latter item was sort of available, in that there was a stack of old-fashioned fabric handkerchiefs on the desk. He took one, mopping at his eyes. He dabbed at his nose too. He really needed to give it a good blow, but he wasn’t sure of the etiquette of that when using reusable handkerchiefs. It seemed kind of gross to huff a boatload of snot into something that someone else would have to clean and then reuse. Which was why disposable tissues existed. It was way more hygienic.
It was probably this kind of terrible maladjustment that was leading to his soul wanting to burst out from his ribcage, or whatever the heck was supposedly happening to him.
He gave a stiff, mechanical nod to Professor Wright’s first ‘understand.’ He understood the words he was saying. He probably even mostly believed them. No one at the centre had ever made promises like that. They had been more a fan of asking questions that seemed to have predetermined, secret answers, and being angry when his didn’t match.
“But they didn’t!” he burst out, instead of offering another nod to the second ‘understand.’ They hadn’t done anything of the kind and—and he had so already. He tried to pull it all back in, though it escaped as a few indignant tears.
His stomach squirmed as Professor Wright asked him to provide more details. Professor Wright believed him. He had said so. But there was still the possibility of that being taken away at a moment’s notice. Especially if he didn’t agree or didn’t understand. Oz had said he got weird about Muggle stuff sometimes… Professor Wright would, if given a chance, ‘investigate thoroughly’ but how would he interpret what he saw?
He fidgeted for a moment, but couldn’t really see a way out of answering the question.
“I… I said some stuff about things not being normal. They didn’t like it when I used that word. I didn’t mean that wizards aren’t normal, just that I wasn’t used to stuff yet. And they seemed to think my mom had the same attitude… Which, I mean, she kind of does think like me, in that there’s a bunch of stuff she’s not really used to yet, but it doesn’t mean she thinks it’s bad or wrong. She never said that. She wouldn’t. She…” He hesitated for two reasons. It was almost worse talking about his mom than himself. If he messed up and made Professor Wright think badly of him and his own thoughts, he might have a chance to fix that and defend himself. But his mom wasn’t here. He was responsible for representing her. And he’d got it so catastrophically wrong already. There was also the fact that the example in his head was personal. It was something that he didn’t know how wizards as a whole, and Professor Wright as an individual, would react to. Though, overall, their school seemed pretty open-minded. But the example of how his mom had reacted to him being a wizard just like she had him being gay was less important than the way he’d messed up in relaying that information…
“They asked about us being religious, and whether our views align with most other people’s,” he said, sticking to the facts first, treading in the more distant circles, even though he knew the path would spiral inwards to the shame and the mistake in the middle. “My parents are super liberal. They switched churches when they realised people at our old place would tell me I’d go to hell for being gay,” he said, hesitating only a moment after he said it, but it was clear enough that he was checking for any signs of a reaction from Professor Wright. “It can be kind of a controversial subject. So… so… when they asked about it, about if my parents’ views line up with other people’s… I said no,” he admitted, his voice very small. “I-I-I didn’t mean- so now they think my parents are like… super crazy, religious extremists, but I didn’t mean it like that! I didn’t know what they were asking, so I said the wrong thing. But-I- but,” he faltered, the tears coming thick and fast again, “but then when I tried to take it back nobody would listen. It’s my fault I got taken away, but I didn’t mean it! I didn’t know what they meant. And it’s not like that, it’s really not!”
13Xavier LundstromA lot of the evidence is false152905
Staff House: Aladren Subject: Charms Written by: Grayson Wright
Age in Post: 43
Certainly it seems to have lacked context.
by Grayson Wright
"I know, I know," Gray said quickly, insomuch as one could speak quickly while also trying to speak as soothingly as possible. "It seems a lot of mistakes may have been made all around." He considered trying to explain what he had meant, but decided it was a bit tangential and difficult to say carefully enough with someone who was in an emotional state.
As Xavier elaborated on what had gone wrong during the disastrous home interview he'd had, a great number of pieces began to fall into place, and they formed a coherent picture. Well, most of one. He knew religion could be very important to people; could simply dreading the rejection of a religious community really account for the degree of stress necessary for Xavier to have made an unconscious attempt to suppress his magic? He recalled that odd remark Mr. Lundstrom had made to Robyn - that they worried about what would happen if she was away from them.
To him, that sounded like something far worse than simply concluding their community would reject them must have happened, but then - what did he know about it? Having Ness and Ellie in Aladren and the library under Tarquin for a neighbor meant he had a working vocabulary when it came to human sexuality and the associated politics, but that was all. Then add the Muggle and religious elements to it...more subjects where he had no practical experience. Still - did it necessarily matter what the details were? Could a family just turn so far in on itself that it spiraled this way, purely out of fear?
At least the problem was more clearly defined now. A problem with known parameters was much easier to pick apart and address than one composed almost entirely of known unknowns.
The place to start was always with the immediately accessible, so he did that. "There you go, then - blow your nose and wipe your face," he instructed Xavier. "There. Well. That makes everything a lot clearer." It did not do a lot to clarify the path forward, but it was a start. "At least where the...misunderstandings come from." It was hard not to sigh. "I'm not Muggleborn, so I really have no idea what you all go through - but you're not the first to defy the expectation that you'll be, you'll be...completely thrilled to leave the Muggles and be among your own people, and you won't be the last. I think to a lot of wizards, though...that's not easy to understand, and if someone's brought up to be afraid of the Muggles...Yes. It makes sense where the misunderstandings come from."
Which was no good to Xavier. He thought as fast as felt remotely reasonable. "But it's not your fault you didn't understand something, Xavier. If you can convince yourself of that, that could be helpful to you." If Xavier felt he'd broken apart a coiled-in family unit simply because of what he was...still didn't explain everything, but it definitely didn't help matters if he felt guilt about that. "It's certainly not your fault if someone else refuses to listen to you when you try to clarify something you didn't understand. As for going forward - I have...a few ideas. Probably best to discuss them with Professor Skies. Have you told her any of this? Or plan to tell her any of this?" She was technically the boy's guardian, after all.
16Grayson WrightCertainly it seems to have lacked context.11305
With slightly more direct permission to use and abuse the handkerchiefs, Xavier began to clear his nose. It did feel better to do so, and had the added benefit that he was too busy sniffling and snuffling to do more than glare as Professor Wright declared the situation to be ‘understandable.’ From his point of view, it was still anything but. He didn’t understand how people could have prejudices against him, although he was rapidly gaining lived experience of it, but it still just didn’t make sense to him.
Professor Wright’s assurances that it was not his fault were amongst the easier to swallow things he had said. Xavier had rued again and again the things he had said, and wished he could take them all back or have a do over, but he also had a healthy amount of contempt for the people who had heard what they wanted to hear and then stopped listening. It was easier to direct his anger outwards, to them, and it was starting to feel like he had something bordering on permission to do so.
“No,” he said, a defensive edge in his voice when asked if he’d gone to Professor Skies. Had he thought of talking to an adult? What a brilliant plan! If only he’d known or realised that adults were willing and able to listen and solve his problems! How could he have been so foolish as to think they’d do anything else? “The two of you send reports about me to them!” he glared. “Don’t say that you don’t, cos I know you have to! And if they think I’ve started up with this stuff again—you’re not going to tell them, are you? Please don’t? I-” The impossibility of it all crashed over him again, the feeling of panic, like a snare around his ankle, and a hand on the other end pulling him back towards the darkness. But Professor Wright had said something. Something about plans and ideas. “How do I get out? If I say nothing, they think they’re right. If I say something, they think I’m being argumentative. They’ll do the same with going home, I know they will. If I don’t get better, they’ll say I haven’t been away long enough. If I start to improve, they’ll say it’s working to keep me away from them. What do I do?”
And there was the paranoia again. And it reappeared alarmingly quickly. One moment, Xavier was angry or sullen, or perhaps both; the next, he was pleading in terror again. This was not good, this was not good at all....
"It's all right, calm down," he said. "Just take a breath or two...."
He thought as fast as he could about how to phrase his response. "I won't deny that there are reports, for two reasons," he continued. "One is that it would be absurd, and the other is that I've previously told you that I won't lie to you. So. Yes, I send reports to Professor Skies about anything I think she needs to know, and she sends reports to MACUSA about anything she thinks they need to know. I'm sure you'll agree that no one would be happy if we included every detail of what we all say and do here."
It was not easy, finding that balance point between putting too much emphasis on what he was saying to preserve plausible deniability and not putting enough emphasis on it to be sure Xavier would understand him. He wished he could simply speak clearly, but that was where the lines that had to be toed started to appear. The conversation was turning into a bit of a hydra: each time something landed, two more points popped up.
"You've got a good point," he admitted about the one where the government, should it choose to do so, could change the rules of the game at any time. "What you definitely need to do, though, is focus on getting better," he added gently but firmly. "We don't know how the government will or won't behave at any given time - but your control over your powers is something that will affect you for the rest of your life. I hope you don't have to play the long game with MACUSA, but in the worst-case scenario - well, worst case short of you losing control completely - in that next-worst scenario, then they can only prevent you from going where you wish until you're seventeen. Which is a long time, but at the very least, Professor Skies and I have det, determined that we'll do whatever is within our power to keep you away from the...place where you were, until that time.
"In a better situation - I had had the idea to send your parents some books." He grimaced a little, apologetic, slightly embarrassed. "I know, Aladren stereotypes," he half-apologized. "But if they're seen being willing to learn about wizards and you're seen improving, that's going to make a good impression on evaluators. You might write with them about magical culture, too - since your correspondence is monitored, that gives you all an opportunity to give the impression you're adjusting, and that you and your parents are coming to see magic as normal and so forth. I know it's not quite the full solution you wanted to hear," he admitted., "but one has to start somewhere, with small steps. Does any of that sound reasonable, or doable?"