Harry Potter and the Great Old Ones

Chapter 652 Paper
Time quickly moved on to the first Black Magic class after Christmas.

At the start of the new term, Hogwarts moved Tyrell's Dark Arts class to Friday afternoons, so even if some students were so caught up in Christmas fun that they forgot to do their Tyrell's Dark Arts homework, they could find a way to catch up before the class officially started.

The Dark Magic class remained in the abandoned girls' restroom on the third floor, which had been transformed and expanded into a Dark Magic classroom by Tiera at the beginning of the semester.

As always, the place was packed with students, but unlike the usual anticipation and excitement, the students in this black magic class seemed a little anxious.

Clearly, just as Tierra had predicted, many students had a blast during Christmas and only remembered they had a paper to submit for a Dark Arts class after returning home and being told about the semester's schedule.

This assignment, in particular, required analyzing Voldemort's thought process and demanded complete originality; most importantly—

They didn't even know what the passing standard was.

"The paper doesn't need to be long, but it must be profound, it must come from the heart, and it must be deeply analytical."

What is profound? What is heartfelt? What is in-depth analysis?

Those young wizards who took classes in the Muggle world were better off; at least they had learned the most basic grammar and logical thinking patterns, and they had some ideas about the essay topic of "analyzing the mental journey of a cold-blooded and ruthless dark lord."

Children from wizarding families who haven't even learned elementary grammar and logical thinking skills, and who have only attended school for a year or two, are in a much worse situation. Their questions can only repeatedly use words like "horrible," "terrifying," and "frightening" to analyze Voldemort.

To come up with an adjective like "the shadow of death" or "the fog of despair" is already considered quite eloquent.

"Alright, students," Tierra said with a smile, "please submit your assignments now."

Upon hearing Tierra's words, most students, as if receiving a death sentence, would turn pale and pull out one or two thin sheets of paper from their bags.

Of course, there are also some people, like Hermione, who confidently pull out a stack of neatly bound papers, each over thirty pages thick, from their bags and slam them angrily onto the table.

Tierra's head was buzzing from looking at it.

His master's thesis wasn't even this thick back then.

He recalled that his requirements specifically included the statement, "The paper does not need to be long."

That's what I'm afraid of is a situation like Hermione's.

As everyone placed their papers on the table, Tierra waved her hand, and a gentle breeze swept by. The papers on everyone's tables, regardless of thickness, were lifted up like feathers and floated to the teaching platform behind Tierra.

After all the assignments were collected, Tierra half-closed her eyes, extended a slender white finger, and gently ran it across the assignments on the podium.

All three hundred students in the class watched Tierra with bated breath. The entire classroom fell silent instantly, so quiet that even the soft rustling of Tierra's fingers as she brushed over each assignment seemed audible.

Finally, in the silence, Tierra slowly walked around his desk, touched every single assignment, and then slowly opened his eyes, his smug smile returning to his face.

“I’ve roughly looked through this assignment,” Tierra said with a smile.

"Ten points for Gryffindor," Tierra said. "For Hermione Granger's assignment, a full thirty-five pages, it's very well written and very detailed. You can tell from her perfect format that she took this assignment very seriously. It also reflects her rigorous and meticulous attitude towards the Dark Arts, which is exactly the attitude we need most in the process of learning the Dark Arts. I hope everyone can learn more from Hermione Granger."

"Yay!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly in a soft voice from below the stage when she heard Tyrell praise her, then punched Harry's arm to express her joy.

Tierra casually pulled out Hermione's paper and flipped through it in front of all the students, showing them its contents.

“When you have the opportunity to study at New Miscatorium in the future, you will take a course called ‘Writing and Standardizing Magical Dissertations,’” Tiera said. “And when you graduate from New Miscatorium, you will also need to write a dissertation of about this thickness, which will include a title, author(s), table of contents, abstract, keywords, main text, references, and appendices, etc.”

"As for some students' papers," Tiera waved her hand and casually pulled out dozens of single-page papers.

“While I said you don’t need to write too much, I didn’t mean your papers could be as short as just a few sentences or even a few words,” Tiera said, tossing the few thin pages of paper over and over.

“Tom Riddle, or Voldemort, deserves far more than just those few words,” Tierra said with a sigh, then stood up from the desk she was leaning against and straightened her wizard robes slightly.

“But it’s not your fault.” Tiera smiled as she paced around the classroom, distributing the few thin papers back to their respective authors in the most time-consuming and Muggle-like way.

“When he first entered school, he was a quiet boy in a secondhand robe, waiting in line with the other first-year students for the Sorting. The Sorting Hat touched his head and he was sorted into Slytherin. How long it took him to learn that the founders of his house could also speak snakes, we don’t know—perhaps that very night, this fact excited him even more, making him value his own importance even more,” Tiera said as she walked. “However, there is no evidence that he ever used his Parsleyan to frighten his classmates in the common room. He didn’t display any obvious arrogance or aggression. As a gifted and handsome orphan, he attracted considerable attention and sympathy from the faculty from the moment he entered the school. He seemed polite, quiet, and eager to learn; almost everyone was impressed by him.”

"Gradually, he turned his attention to the school, and he gathered a group of loyal friends for himself. I think it was to make things easier for the next semester. Although I had hinted at it, Riddle had no doubt about his influence on them. This group had a sinister charm in the castle. They were a mix of all sorts of people, a mixture of the weak seeking protection and the strong seeking glory. In other words, they were the precursors to the Death Eaters, and indeed some of them became Death Eaters after leaving the school."

"They were firmly in Riddle's grasp, never having done anything wrong in public, despite the countless dirty little incidents that seemed to have nothing to do with them during their seven years at Hogwarts, the most serious of which—of course—was the opening of the Chamber of Secrets, which led to the death of a girl and the innocent punishment of our gamekeeper Hagrid."

Just as Tiera finished distributing the last paper, she stood there, hands on the table, looking down at the student.

“Then, Mr. Berennick Cornell,” Tierra called out his name.

“Yes, yes, sir.” The thirteen-year-old boy named Berennick Cornell stood up somewhat nervously.

"So, does Voldemort's behavior remind you of anything?" Tierra asked.

(End of this chapter)