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As I sat across from the Professor in his cabin, I knew a random duster or piece of chalk could come flying through, perfectly aimed at my forehead, at any moment. That was, after all, his preferred way of rebuking me when I messed up. However, the expected attack never came. He sat there with his fingers steepled and brows furrowed in a typical frown.
Maybe that was why he had so many wrinkles on his face-
"Henry."
"How can I help yo ...
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