"I never would've imagined it…"
"Seriously. Something this good could actually fall to us?"
"Strictly speaking, it's for the top-ranked students. It probably has nothing to do with us…"
"Not necessarily. Everyone has their strengths—what if some professor just happens to need the exact field I'm best at? Once a heavyweight project like that goes on your résumé, it's worth way more than a professor's recommendation letter. Finding a related job later would be a breeze…"
It was the afternoon of the first day of term. Most students had already completed at least two major classes. And in the process, those newly promoted to fourth year made a pleasant discovery—professors had begun recruiting assistants from among them to help with research.
By experience, although fourth year was indeed the minimum year for becoming an assistant—third years simply lacked the knowledge, fifth years were buried under O.W.L. preparation, and seventh years were juggling N.E.W.T.s and external internships, leaving them swamped—the job of assisting professors usually fell to fourth- and sixth-year students.
In reality, though, opportunities for fourth years were exceedingly rare. Sixth years were generally sufficient, and having been tempered by the O.W.L.s, they were several tiers stronger than fourth years. Professors typically preferred not to recruit fourth years unless there was a serious manpower shortage—like this year.
The emergence of a complete basilisk had almost single-handedly opened up an entirely new field of research. Its millennium-long lifespan, lethal gaze, unique venom, formidable magic resistance, unprecedented bodily structures, and downright absurd method of birth all provided exceptional research material. And as the Hogwarts professors who nearly monopolized the basilisk materials, they had poured almost all their time—outside of teaching and grading—into basilisk research. Naturally, the scale of experimentation expanded with it…
For example, during fourth-year Herbology that very morning, Professor Sprout had offered three slots to accompany her into the Chamber of Secrets to examine the basilisk's living environment and collect metabolites for further study—with a payment of three Galleons!
Just as students were cramming relevant knowledge and preparing to fight tooth and nail for a glittering addition to their résumés, Professor Flitwick also began recruiting from the fourth years to test how basilisk nerves reacted to various spells. Even Professor Binns had started organizing manpower, planning a detailed survey of the Chamber of Secrets—it was said that when he first saw the Chamber, he was so excited he nearly dissipated on the spot. Merlin knew where a ghost found that much enthusiasm…
And now, the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were sitting in Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class, full of anticipation.
"Welcome back to my classroom," Professor McGonagall said. "I've finished reviewing your holiday assignments. You all did quite well—especially considering everything that happened last year…"
She seemed to be in an unusually good mood, even wearing a rare, mysterious smile. "I have one piece of good news and one piece of bad news to announce. Based on past experience, you'll want to hear the bad news first, so I'll be direct."
"The bad news is this: what you'll be learning this year—granting intelligence to transfigured objects—is the most important foundation of advanced Transfiguration, and also one of its greatest difficulties. Nearly every student who fails the Transfiguration O.W.L. stumbles here… So this year, the pressure you'll face in Transfiguration will be no less than that of fifth year."
"Hiss—"
A chorus of sharp inhales rippled through the classroom.
"And the good news,"
Professor McGonagall continued cheerfully, "is that early next year—during your second term—I'll be opening a large-scale experiment studying the reference value of basilisk brain structures in constructing intelligent minds. I happen to be short one assistant. If any of you can master this year's material to a level that satisfies me, you may be able to participate…"
"And,"
She added just in time, before the cheers could erupt, "because the work involved in this position is both demanding and important, it qualifies for authorship on the final paper…"
As the final word, drawn out slightly, fell—
The classroom plunged into absolute silence.
Then, in the very next second—like cold water splashed onto red-hot iron—it exploded!
"Whoa!!"
"Seriously?!"
"Did I hear that right? Fourth-year students can be credited on Professor McGonagall's paper?!"
"Merlin above…"
Amid the shouting and uproar, the students were utterly blindsided by this gift that had fallen from the sky. Over on the Ravenclaw side, it practically turned into a monkey mountain—someone even fell to the floor, crawling around in the chaos…
And it was no wonder they were so excited—that was Professor McGonagall's paper!
Even on the international stage, Minerva McGonagall was an authority in Transfiguration. And a paper in the currently red-hot field of basilisk research carried top-tier academic weight. Being credited on Professor McGonagall's basilisk research paper—even if the final results weren't spectacular—would have an unimaginable impact on a student's future!
Yet while most students shouted themselves hoarse, nearly ready to swear an Unbreakable Vow to master Transfiguration, a few remained remarkably calm—Avada among them.
'This is pure hype-building… A position like that would be enough to make even the best seventh years drop their internships and rush back. And research involving the brain itself requires a deep foundation in psychodynamics. In other words, for a fourth year to land this position, they'd need to raise both their Transfiguration and psychodynamic levels to those of top seventh-year students within half a year.'
He considered calmly. 'She's probably using this to motivate everyone to study Transfiguration harder. And she deliberately didn't mention that we'd be competing with elite sixth and seventh years—most likely to avoid scaring us off…'
'Wait—hold on. This position actually seems pretty suitable for me???'
Avada shuddered slightly as he realized things might not be so simple.
He wasn't joking—psychodynamics aside, his grades there had been personally certified by the Dark Lord himself. As for Transfiguration, he'd spent four years observing two Animagi under magical perception. Even without deliberate study, he'd developed profound insights. Not to mention that over the past summer, he'd conducted focused research on Transfiguration for his plans—and had even applied in advance for basilisk brain tissue slices…
'Come to think of it, wasn't my brain-slice application approved by Professor McGonagall? Does she know something?'
Scratching his head, Avada hesitated over whether to join her project.
'It'll depend on how quickly the werewolf research and the Black situation progress.'
In the end, he clenched his jaw. 'If things go smoothly and I can complete at least one of them before Christmas, I'll apply for Professor McGonagall's project!'
(End of Chapter)