Gaston's expression darkened slightly as Daisy spoke. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach that she was right; things were getting worse with each passing day. He wasn't sure how much longer he could last! He nodded. "I know, I hope so too," he said. Though secretly he doubted that would happen. Even if Scrimgeour left, the Board of Governors had made it perfectly clear that they disapproved of Regina Hawthorne. Why would they reinstate her or anyone she hired? More likely, they'd just appoint another tyrant to replace Scrimgeour.

Blink, blink. Gaston's blue eyes widened as he gasped, slightly taken aback by Daisy's reaction. There was no reason any sane person would fire him for acting in a student's best interest... but then again, Julian Scrimgeour didn't strike him as a sane person. He sighed sadly, knowing Daisy was right. Scrimgeour would find a way to use it against him, even if he had to invent a way. "Okay, I won't say anything if it makes you anxious," he said. "I just... hate that I can't do more to help. Forcing you to do exercises with your injuries is inexcusable!"

He managed to return Daisy's smile with a small, slightly sad one of his own as the conversation turned to Helena. "Yes, I got that impression when I met her," he said, realizing too late how arrogant that probably sounded. "... that she's a person with strong opinions, that is." he added. He still didn't think he'd done anything to show strength of character. Before the conversation could go much further, Gaston saw Daisy stand up. He crossed the room to open the door for her. "Leaving already?" he asked, looking at her with concern. He hadn't upset her, had he?



Out of the corner of his good eye, Gaston noticed Stella looking at the candy dish. He nodded in reply to her questions. "It is," he said with a slight smile. "My mother keeps sending me chocolate from home. She's trying to fatten me up; she says I'm too skinny..." And now she was probably right. He'd lost a lot of weight from the stress he was under. His smile grew. "Of course, have as many as you like." Hopefully the sweets would cheer her up...

His heart sank as he saw the poor girl stiffen and start shaking again, and he inwardly berated himself for causing it. He bent so that his eyes met hers. The angry fire was still there, but it had been overshadowed by sadness. "I didn't mean to scare you," he said softly. "I just... hate seeing my students in pain, physical or emotional. That hurts me worse than anything else Headmaster Scrimgeour could do..." he shook his head. "You'll never get in trouble for speaking your mind in my office. If we were in the hallway or somewhere else Headmaster Scrimgeour could be watching, that's different... he'd fire me if I didn't, and then he'd bring in another monster like him..." His expression darkened; just the thought made him shudder.

Gaston's blue eyes widened in shock at Stella's next words. "I have no idea. I've often wondered that myself..." he said. "Maybe something bad happened to him, and it hardened his heart. Or maybe he just never learned how to be kind..." His features hardened. "But whatever the reason, it doesn't excuse the way he acts." Then the little one asked another question that caught him off guard. He thought for a moment. The truth was he didn't do it. He tried to isolate himself as much as possible because interacting with those goons set his teeth on edge! He shrugged. "I don't know; I don't think any of us realize what we're capable of until we're tested," he said. "When I have to be around them, all I can do is try to remind myself that I'm doing it for my students and hope the love for my job will outweigh the fear."

He gave her a sad, sympathetic look, handing her a box of tissues as she wiped her tears. "I know," he said. "Every day, I worry that somebody is going to get hurt - and not just from S.O.R.E." There was any number of ways those idiot replacement professors could cause harm; he feared this was just the tip of the iceberg! "I'm so sorry. It's unfair that he keeps putting you through that; he should make accomodations for you and the other students with medical conditions." But he knew he probably wouldn't. He had to take several deep breaths to calm his rising anger. Running children ragged did not make them strong, and if Scrimgeour couldn't open his eyes long enough to see that, he was an even bigger fathead than Gaston thought! "I could try talking to Healer McMillan for you. She's very nice, not at all like the headmaster; I'm sure she'd be happy to help."

Gaston looked at Stella with sad eyes. She was breaking his heart! "It will end," he promised. "I can't promise Headmaster Scrimgeour will leave any time soon, but I'll stick around for as long as I can..." Which probably meant, until the metal armed-maniac came up with a reason to fire him. "You won't have to deal with this the whole time you're in school. If he comes back next term or if this becomes too much for you, I'll personally get you transferred to another school." He could get her into Beauxbatons with a single letter...

Before he had much time to think on the subject, Phantom's meowing distracted him. He smiled, watching Stella pet his cat, and Phantom was clearly enjoying every moment of it too! The Persian turned the white side of her face toward Stella and replied with a "meow!" Gaston laughed. "Phantom says 'thank you'," he said. But the laughter instantly turned to all-consuming rage as Stella confirmed what he thought he heard the first time.

"That cruel... heartless... evil sack of dragon dung!" he snarled, his clenched teeth all that was keeping him from shouting. He stopped short of saying a word he never uttered in a child's presence. His hands balled into fists, and his cheeks flushed a shade of Gryffinfor scarlet. Feel good about yourself now, Scrimgeour? he thought furiously. Subjugating children for showing you kindness... is that the only way you can think of to boost your pathetic ego? He wished he had him right here in his office; then he would teach that scum a lesson! HIs eyes burned like bluebell flames, and his entire body trembled.

The lights flickered on and off; pieces of parchment rustled on the desk, and there was a faint clink as a crack appeared in the glass candy dish, deepening until... everything stopped. Gaston was on his feet, though he couldn't recall standing up. He glanced around the room in a daze. Good Godric Gryffindor, what happened? "D-did I do that?" he wondered out loud, his voice sounding small and frightened. Then he remembered Stella. "Oh, my-! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Stella! I don't know how- this has never happened before!" He could barely bring himself to look at the poor girl.



Gaston wasn't particularly bothered that Derf overlooked the intercom; he assumed he must've been too excited to pay attention. He was just glad it wasn't Scrimgeour on the other side of that door! He nodded, returning the prefect's smile with a small one of his own. "You're quite welcome," he said, stepping aside to allow passage into his office. He followed the boy inside, closing the door behind them with a wave of his wand; another wave cast a nonverbal Muffliato. The spell had been standard procedure since the start of the term; it was almost force of habit now.

He took his place in the large leather chair behind the desk, gesturing toward the smaller chairs in front. "Would you like to sit down?" he asked. The moment he spoke, Phantom, the black and white Persian cat, jumped down from her cat condo and greeted Derf with a cheery "meow!" Gaston smiled. "I think she remembers you..."

Oh, that reminded him! He picked up the kneazle dummy he had stashed behind his desk and set it in front of Derf. "Here's your dummy, as promised," he said. "Is a kneazle okay, or would you prefer some other creature?" He could always transfigure it, if that was the case. "When you want to practice, tap its back with your wand, and injuries will appear at random. Once you're done, the wounds you healed will disappear until you tap its back again..." He paused to give time for that information to sink in, patiently awaiting any questions that might follow.

Gaston's expression darkened slightly at the mention of Tristan. Honestly, what was he thinking attacking another professor like that? That would've got him fired, even if Hawthorne was still here! There was no denying LeRoux had it coming, but all that accomplished was giving LeRoux the last laugh. And now, there was one less adult the students could turn to and one more sociopath running amok at Hogwarts! He sighed, shaking his head; the mention of Petrov got a shocked eyebrow raise in response. "He did?" he said. "That was nice of him..." Too nice. Something was very wrong here... "I hope you learn a lot from Professor Petrov."

Though if the other replacements were any indication, the only thing Derf would learn from Petrov was to be terrified of his own shadow. "If you find you need more extensive training," Gaston said, choosing his words carefully just in case the wrong person happened to be listening, "maybe we could put you in touch with another magizoologist?" Maybe someone at the Ministry or the Scamander zoo?