Friday, January 7th, 1892 - Transfiguration Classroom

It was a bitter cold day, but at least it was sunny, so after lunch Ida took a long walk around the grounds. It wasn't lost on her that the first week of her second-to-last semester was already coming to an end. The realization had increased the frequency with which she felt a tight feeling in her chest, a feeling that said I'm not ready to go. Not one to ruminate on her feelings for very long, however, Ida happily distracted herself with an aggressive perusal of new achievements during her final (and surely most brilliant) year at Hogwarts.

Though it would seem that not everyone felt the same way. A serious disturbance settled over many of the 7th years during break, particularly the girls. Ida supposed many had frank family discussions about their futures, and the idea of a love match still didn't carry much favor with their parents' generations. Moreover, many had been invited to their first society parties - a litmus test if you will, for how their debut might fare (Ida was delighted to report she had zero prospects). She did her best to avoid any conversations related to this, but it was nearly impossible now. Like a contagious illness, their woes spread out and became her own. Anxiety about the future settled into her mind like The Fog, heavy enough that even a full week of class couldn't shake it off. 

And so Ida came outside, a surefire trick to clear her mind from all these silly distractions. There was something reassuring in watching the beaters practice, or watching dizzy third-years fertilize pots of Puffapods. Ida was due at Professor Foxwood's any minute now, and her own visualization skills relied on an unencumbered mind. If she came to his office out of sorts, Ida was afraid he'd spot it in a second.

Forget about everything except what I still have plans to achieve, Ida willed herself, taking several deep breaths as she watched the Herbology class. If my nerves are the Fog, there they go, she resolved, watching her warm breath waft away into wintery air. As if on cue, one of the dizziest-looking children fainted. Their Professor quickly came over, announcing that class was dismissed. It would seem her time was up. Ready or not, Ida turned on her heel to head inside.

As she neared the Transfiguration classroom, it looked as though Professor Foxwood had just finished lecture. The younger students were still milling about, packing away materials or chatting amongst each other. In a few quick steps Ida made her way to an empty desk closest to the Professor's, greeting him with a soft smile and merry wave. She would wait patiently for him to finish, not one to interrupt his train of thought or get in the way of student questions. Instead she made quick work of shedding her many layers of overcoat, mittens, and scarves, stuffing them unceremoniously into a satchel that looked (on the outside, anyway) far too small to fit them. From that same satchel, she retrieved her quill and notebook - always within arm's reach when the two of them spoke.

Once Ida knew she had his full attention, she leveled him a wide, conspiratorial grin. Anxiousness aside, she had much to share with her mentor. "It's my pleasure to announce that we've started it," Ida declared, as though picking back up an ongoing conversation. 'We' meant the two of them, 'it' referred to Ida's special interest - that Basil happily enabled - in transforming to the animal form at will. It was no great secret that she hoped to make at least one strong attempt at this transformation before the school year's end, and Ida was antsy to dive right into her line of inquiry about the mandrake leaf. But that nagging fog reminded her that civilized society preferred to discuss the mundane things first.

"Oh - please pardon my manners. Did you have an enjoyable holiday, Professor?"

---

Basil Foxwood

  

Basil was quite impressed with the progress his O.W.L students had been making on their switching spells. Ever since he’d given them the task of turning a biscuit into a knut, it seemed the persistence to get the spell quite right had take a turn upward. He couldn’t blame them, it was a successful lesson: a knut for a sweet in Hogsmeade would have provided plenty motivation for him to finish an assignment (not that he’d needed much motivation as a student to begin with, he’d always been particularly academically inclined). But this was a note he’d taken out of Professor Thompson’s book. He’d have to write and inform his mentor of the roaring success.

As the students began to trickle out, Basil gathered together some papers he’d been reviewing for his N.E.W.T students. He was disappointed in the quality of some of them, however he supposed an essay assignment the first week back after the holiday break had been a little bit ambitious. As a few students echo’d their ‘good day’s and ‘thank you Professor Foxwood’s - the man nodded at them and smiled. He very much appreciated their efforts and hopefully tomorrow’s lesson would prove even better.

Out of the corner of his eye, Basil noticed another of his students approach, this one a N.E.W.T level Ravenclaw. Ida Chang, his protege and pseudo-intern, gave him a little wave and Basil nodded in her direction as the last of his O.W.L students excused themselves and trickled out. Setting his papers aside, Basil ran a hand through his unkempt hair. (If it had been long and in need of a haircut before, it was bordering on unruly now.)

“Good afternoon Miss Chang,” he greeted politely as she approached and rattled off like a canon. Her enthusiasm was always something Basil had found endearing and he much appreciated her aptitude for transfiguration. The idle chit-chat about holiday he could do without however. He hated to lie to her but he never shared personal details about his social life (or lack thereof) with his students. “It was pleasant enough,” he lied through his teeth with a smile. “But never mind that, what is it we’ve begun?”

---

Ida Chang

---

  

It didn't get past Ida that Professor Foxwood skirted by her polite question. It was the same smile and tone he used to answer students who gave him stupid answers. She wouldn't even notice how her head cocked slightly to the left in response, the way it always did when she was initially puzzled by conflicting facts. In an academic context, this usually indicated a forthcoming barrage of methodical inquiry until she arrived at a more logical conclusion. But in a social context, this slotted directly into her category called "not my business."

It was for the better, anyway. She had been steeling herself for return fire, but could now relax by sliding into her seat. Though she made a mental note about finding a different way to tactfully indicate that his hair had gotten far too long. As a leading expert in transfiguration, she thought, Surely you can find a way to somehow vanish off an inch around the front?

"Very well," she began, beaming at the chance to go on. She didn't get so many opportunities to feel so heard. "As you know, the process to find one's Animagus begins with a strong basis in lunar events. And it occurred to me that in Chinese culture, we move by the lunisolar calendar," she paused for a moment, trying to parse out the most critical information to share as she went. "The lunisolar calendar is calculated annually by the concept of Ying Yang, and astronomical phenomena, that help determine the points throughout the year in which we have our highest phenomenological pull to the moon's force. There is a crest--" she moved her hands up to animate, then dropped them dramatically to her lap, "--and fall in its force each month. The greatest crest of all, of course, is punctuated by the new moon that heralds our Lunar New Year. For each day thereafter, its force dwindles, yielding smaller and smaller crests."

It was an entire mouthful, but she showed no signs of stopping. Experience told her Professor Foxwood could keep up fine.

"And so I thought, so much of the first part of the process is rooted in the fundamental pull that one has to their Yang sense of representation," The Chinese thought about that too, in the form of Zodiac animals that represented each year. "That is to say, one's attachment or willingness to give up control to the Moon, or in other words, their "other" self. Avoiding, in the subsequent steps of dew collecting, any attachment to the Yin-Sun-force at all -- that is to say, one's human self."

This was the triumphant aha moment. She couldn't contain herself long enough to wait for his reaction, but she hoped it was going over well. It was important that he understood why she had to start her course with the mandrake leaf in her mouth in line with the moon's greatest crest.

"This might even suggest that the earlier it is in the Lunar Year, the more powerful human-to-animal transformations are as a result. In any case, I believe it may boost my odds at finding a strong connection to the second heartbeat at later stages," she indicated now to the mandrake leaf tucked on the inside of her left cheek. "So, being that the Lunar New Year takes place at the end of this month, we have already begun!"

---

The following 1 user Likes Ida Chang's post:1 user Likes Ida Chang's post
   Basil Foxwood

Basil couldn’t help but turn his full attention on Miss Ida Chang as she began speaking. She was very intelligent for her year, and he nearly always appreciated whatever it was she had to say. He enjoyed tremendously when she helped him on his research projects, and her enthusiasm for Transfiguration was unparalleled except for maybe Basil’s own. She was a kindred spirit unlike any he’d come across and it was refreshing.

Her elaborate explanation was interesting, to say the least. Nodding along as she spoke, Basil’s brow creased and he hummed when it was appropriate as she paused. Upon conclusion, the professor leaned his elbow on the desk and dropped his chin into his hand, considering for a moment. “You have an interesting hypothesis…” he mused. Basil could admit, he was impressed by her observations.

“By that logic however, wouldn’t your best chances at completing a successful first transformative attempt, after the initial process is complete, have been in the waxing of the moon this month?” His eye twinkled a little in teasing. “By proxy, you ought to have started on the mandrake leaf and dew collecting late last year to finish the ritual…” he glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall “…next week and begin your wait for the much anticipated electrical storm. One of which we could not expect with any certainty in the next ten days, and certainly not on next Thursday which would be the ideal date for your strongest connection to the Yang sense of representation.” Basil straightened and leaned back in his chair pensively.

“It’s an excellent observation,” he continued. “One that has much merit and with some additional research in statistical likelihood could prove that there are stronger transformations than others. But that likelihood of all the variables coming together before the first full moon in a single year is very slim.” He thought for a moment. “We could always look for such trends in previous years and see if there are historical records for particularly strong animagi that line up with these. Perhaps you might even be able to interview one or two and see what they think of the hypothesis. They might have some valuable input that could affect our understanding of the process as a whole.”

It was a clever idea, if it could be proven. This seemed exactly like the type of research project Ida could tackle on her own if she was interested, and she could publish her findings at the end of the semester if she was dedicated. Basil hoped she might be. If Miss Chang was serious about making a name for herself academically, it was about time she put something out there with her own name leading the charge. 

---

Ida Chang

---

The following 1 user Likes Basil Foxwood's post:1 user Likes Basil Foxwood's post
   Ida Chang

As Professor Foxwood spoke, Ida propped an elbow on the desk, leaning her chin thoughtfully against her fist to consider his response. This was precisely the type of insight she sought! Each Professor should be approached differently: some gained perverse pleasure from cocky students with erroneous calculations, too willing to let them see their misfortune through. Even worse were the Professors too kind to tear down students' improbable hopes, who instead smiled cheekily to say, may-beeee. Ida could do without that roundabout nonsense. She'd rather hear early and often if she was headed down the wrong rabbit hole, and precisely why. Perhaps this is why Professor Foxwood earned her confidence so quickly?

After all, he was very young by professorial standards, and she only met him in her third year. This, combined with most girls' obvious glee to have such a handsome new professor, only fueled her skepticism. Embarrassingly, she couldn't have been more obvious about her feelings. Still lost deep in grief over her mother's death, Ida had zero interest in the niceties of returning his polite greetings, did the near-minimum to pass, and would outright decline to volunteer herself for demonstrations. Despite all this, he treated her no differently. When he praised her spellwork, it was genuine pride she saw on his face, not pity or surprise. In hindsight, he must have sensed how close Ida felt to giving up. Somehow, he saw a window of opportunity to anchor her in a future that still existed once she emerged from her pain: starting with a nudge to assist the younger students in revisions, or an invitation to shadow an OWLs class, or reminders that she also had a worthy voice. Today, he was the one person whose opinions she respected most of all.

"I debated endlessly about the waxing or waning," she confided, though left out just how many hours of sleep lost. "Then it occurred to me the waxing moon gets more sunlight on it as the days go by. So would it be better to sync your start with the wane, as the moon retreats back into darkness? It is infuriating really, that even the best documentation we have is so opaque on this matter," she sighed, temporarily exasperated by their magical predecessors' lack of foresight to define such critical details. She did not appreciate things left to chance.

"At any rate, I intend to capitalize on the strength of the moon's pull at the start of Lunar New Year... We have many superstitions about how the first weeks of the year set the tone for what's to come. Families prepare extensively, cleansing their homes of bad luck, resolving old quarrels... It is considered quite a poor omen to fall ill or have excessive debts at the turn of the year." She paused to open her journal to a fresh page. "So this is what I am mimicking, you see. Out with the old human self, in with the new, connected Yang self." A deadpan tone almost entirely concealed Ida's attempt at a joke, but rather than catch a reaction she had already moved on to scribbling notes of their discussion thusfar.

"Did you know the Chinese don't wash our hair until at least a week into the new year? They say it washes away new fortune," she mused, already her previous exasperation had already given way to optimistic curiosity. "While I agree that it is improbable to align all variables at this time of year, our perspectives might diverge on approach. If I assume this leaf is the most active ingredient in my compound, this tactic might front-load its connective force with the moon at a time of the year when my body is allegedly most susceptible to it. If the mandrake absorbs everything, this could yield greater efficiency." She added this assumptive risk to her diary. "This attempt proposes that there is a fundamental reliance on the leaf," she decided. "Though it is a pleasing coincidence that I'll be steeping it with my lucky new year hair," she added with a grin. 

"Now that you mention statistical analysis, the indeterminate steeping period may also be worth study. One recount in Conjectures in Self-Taught Transubstantition waited a week prior to the storm, and the solution failed to turn. While in Ilvermorny's September feature in Transfiguration Today, it was reported that indigenous populations with many successful animagi wait at least two months." Nothing if not meticulous, Ida was already creating a reference list.

"If we assume the first electrical storms take place March at earliest, when seasons change..." she tapped her chin pensively. "In addition to literature review and interviews, this could also include a practical experiment. What if a new solution was developed each month? If controlled on all other factors, by the time a storm occurs, could one assess each solution's hue and viscosity to understand which month yielded the greatest potency? Though ideally, we'd have a comparison among multiple individuals..." Ida took no issue with twirling a mandrake leaf in her mouth for the better part of a year, though other students - even in the Transfiguration club- might need convincing.

"I believe Mister Selwyn's mother is an animagus. Perhaps he could ask if she would not mind paying our club meeting a visit, so we could all ask questions..." In Ida's mind, it was not enough to merely transform herself, nearly anyone could accomplish this if they really set their mind to it. But to fundamentally improve the process for anyone else who undertook this effort thereafter? Then she could confidently assert a mastery in craft. 

In that second Ida dropped her quill as if lightning struck her hand. She leveled a wide-eyed stare at her mentor, realizing she had taken an unusually long time to register her professor's encouragement.

"Wait - professor!" she gasped. "Are you suggesting this might be a premise for a thesis?"

---

Basil Foxwood

---

  

Basil couldn’t help but laugh a little bit at Miss Chang’s frustration. It was very similar to that which he’d shared many a stressful evening. “Welcome to the world of magical theory and research,” he teased gently. “Nothing is documented in great depth. It is up to us, as the rising generation, to make sure we document thoroughly as best we can for future scholars and academics.”

As Ms. Chang continued to discuss her theory, Basil watched her with rapt attention. It was fascinating to see the wheels turning in that young mind, bursting with potential. He was also quite fascinated in hearing about her perspectives as someone with insight to another culture entirely. Basil himself had never had the whims to travel and hop skip across the globe, but he’s always loved reading about new, interesting places.

“I think there could be merit behind your assertions,” he supplied, nodding. “But it may prove difficult in this environment to have such a controlled experiment, especially since we can only guess at the next storm and you cannot, unfortunately go around carrying six leaves in your mouth at all times.” However amusing it might have been to see her try, Basil couldn’t let Miss Chang’s enthusiasm for her hypothesis stunt her ability to participate in other classes or disturb sleep and other social functions that growing children needed. Though, he supposed, she wasn’t exactly a child anymore…? That train of thought was neither here nor there and he promptly dismissed it.

“I can write to Mrs. Selwyn and arrange an interview for the club, or for you, if you’d think it helpful.” He offered. And then, just as Basil was about to bring it up tactfully again, his previous sentiment seemed to have filtered in through the nooks and crannies of Miss Chang’s firing ideas. Her expression changed dramatically and Basil grinned.

“I’m more than suggesting it, Miss Chang,” he replied. “I’d be willing to sponsor it, if you’re interested.” She had helped him quite a bit over these last few years, earning her name a place beside his own on several publications already. That said, it was high time her name be listed as first co-author on her own study. He would advise, but nothing more unless requested.

---

Ida Chang

---

oooc note - so here's this for reference lol. I'm operating under the assumption that Basil has no prejudice for women in science since these are the only ones he can stand pft and that he would tack his name on whatever he needs to in order to excel her career. He's not stupid, he knows men carry more weight, but he's not going to let that stop Ida and he'd get in an argument about it with anyone if needed lol.

The following 1 user Likes Basil Foxwood's post:1 user Likes Basil Foxwood's post
   Ida Chang

It never escaped Ida how Professor Foxwood's tone changed as they spoke about research. Certainly not in any way that would suggest he was more or less sincere with other students, of course. But the way they joked with each other with inside references few others would understand, or the tempo with which they parried ideas back and forth without pretense, or how he confided the common woes of theoretical researchers that led them both to chuckle... It was not unlike the conspiratorial way Poppy told Ida about someone's poor kissing ability -- the information felt privileged, intimate even. Not for the first time in recent weeks, Ida wondered if their rapport might survive past her time at Hogwarts. The idea certainly made the thought of graduating this year a touch more palatable.

It was only because he was still her Professor, however, that Ida bit back her typical smart-arse snark among friends. She would very well put nearly anything in her mouth for a year for the sake of science! Instead, the young woman smiled pensively at her notes, absorbing his suggestions, and agreeing readily to his support in requesting a visit from Madam Selwyn. Diplomatically, Ida suggested they might keep it a club visit, withholding that she didn't wish to get Cad's knickers in a twist over a missed opportunity to show off his high-powered familial connections. She already had half a mind to pay Miss Nye a visit after this, to see if she could help pull records for registered Animagi for more individual interviews.

If she could even focus after this conversation, that is.

Though the direction of the conversation moved in the positive, she sensed the same fog of anxiety that clouded her progress this week start to collect again. Ida was already shocked, and failed to conceal her surprise at his offer to sponsor her authorship. Truthfully, she expected her ruminations would have supplied his ongoing research; he had recently submitted his most recent work to Transfiguration Today after all. The fact that he seemed to imply this was her study to lead was equal parts flattering, touching, and... rife with opportunity for profound disappointment. And not for her own lack of ability.

"I see," she replied, trying to breathe through her anxiety so as to not give Professor the wrong impression -- this was a dream. "I would very much love that," she emphasized. But all at once, the reality of the conversations she'd been having over winter break settled on her shoulders.  The arguments with her tactless brother about being a financial burden, Natsuko's advice to approach her season with a mind for acceptable sacrifice in battle, and how the New Years Gala felt like a different planet - one where Professor turned into a Basil who broke not one smile that compared to the grin he leveled her now. 

Ida desperately wanted to confide some of these worries to her mentor, but even with the classroom newly deserted, the conversation felt inappropriately personal. Still, if she didn't say something, the man might think her heart wasn't in it...

"Professor, I have a, um, personal question... on the life of a researcher," she tentatively ventured. "Of course, your answer can be in general terms. But I often wonder, how does a researcher earn their living prior to becoming, say, a Professor?" They both knew that Ida continued at Hogwarts on merit. But beyond the publication processes where Ida had helped, she had little visibility into the mechanisms that turned academic circles, or even the professional opportunities that arose from authorship.

"The reason I ask, is that I am eager to turn my love for Transfiguration Magic into something... real. Something beyond just a silly hobby like cross-stitching." The sentiment - and Ida's accompanying nose crinkle - was maybe a bit harsh, but it was the truth of how she felt. "I must admit, I have struggled to outline the merits of this path to my family."

---

  

Basil had to admit he was a little bit taken aback by Ms. Chang’s hesitance in tone, even if her words seemed adequate enough. Raising a brow in concern, he studied her face looking for some semblance as to what could be causing her distress. When she spoke again, he settled back in his seat thoughtfully. Ah.

Basil thought about all the implications of this question, her timing, and the general personality he knew Ms. Chang to hold. She was a stubborn, willful, intelligent and kind young woman, one he knew deserved every advantage and right to make a difference in the world of academia. That said, he knew very little of her background and family other than some guesswork on his part that she came from the middle class, and the knowledge that her mother had passed some few years ago now. He was not familiar with the Chang family himself and had never come across them at the few society events he did frequent.

Running a hand through his too-long hair again, Basil thought for a moment about how best to answer her. He snorted a little, unable to help himself even if it was unprofessional, at her quip about cross-stitching. (They were two peas in a pod he and Ida, and he appreciated her more and more every day.) With a bit of a rustle, he leaned forward on his desk.

“Well,” he started. “I’ll admit, I do see why your family might express concern. A life of research is certainly not lucrative monetarily and I’m sure they have other hopes for your… prospects.” Even the word coming out of his mouth was uncomfortable as Basil’s brow creased and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “That said, you have such potential to make an impact that I would not dare rob the academic community of your abilities by discouraging your pursuits Ms. Chang.

To answer your question, generally researchers and their assistants are granted stipends from accredited universities or sponsors that will allow them to investigate their chosen field of study and have some means to live, if not comfortably, at least well. Some, like myself, are lucky enough to have their family’s wealth to fall back on, even if academia is not strictly considered an upper-class pursuit.” Here Basil’s face scrunched a little as he debated whether he was sharing too much, or not enough. “One potential avenue for those not so privileged” (he said the word with some disdain) “is to pursue a paid internship and then apply to transition into an assistant position with the same institution. Unfortunately Hogwarts does not allow us as Professors to take on full-time assistants, but I do have some connections with the newly opened Flint Institute of Magic if you’d be interested.”

He paused there to let some of that information sink in. It was a natural step for Ms. Chang to transition into an internship with the Flint Institute if she was so inclined. He had been hoping to recommend her the position himself and was glad of the natural way his inquiry was brought about. He wondered too if Ms. Chang had any interest in continuing her studies? Because she likely would also be able to do so at the Institute if she desired as much, likely while continuing her own research. It would be demanding, but she could certainly do it.

“The Flint Institute also allows for continuing studies if you’d like to progress learning advanced Transfigurative magic. You might even be able to do both,” he suggested with a small shrug. “I could always speak with Thaddeus and see what arrangements could be made, considering your situation.” Basil paused for a moment, thinking, and then added: “You know Ms. Chang… I would be hard pressed to find as meticulous an assistant as you upon this years’ graduation as well. If it’s not too forward of me to propose as much, I could potentially offer you a small monthly to continue assisting my own work if you’re interested.”

Basil’s wheels turned, thinking over the implications. He could offer Ida a portion of his monthly income in exchange for her assistance after graduation… It would be measly at best, but it could be enough to get her some exposure, give her some breathing room with finances at the institute, and it would serve to get her name out there as more than just another Hogwarts student assisting their professor. It would show a true investment of his in her work, which could do wonders for her career. (Not that he was so otherworldly impressive with of his own prowess in the community, but still. His name bore some weight these days.) In fact, Basil could also consider sponsoring Ms. Chang altogether. Not quite as a ward, but almost. He hated fiscal responsibility being the primary source of her hesitance, but he also wasn’t in a position to make such an offer without first running it past Atticus and garnering his brother’s blessing. Perhaps he would make a note to bring it up the next time he was home.

If all else failed, Ida could certainly work for the Ministry in some capacity to bolster her income and make a name for herself. If Basil had his way however, she would take over for him as transfiguration professor when he retired or was forced to moved on…  but he couldn’t promise her that right now either. She needed more experience and he was going to make sure she found it. One way or another.

---

Ida Chang

---

  

As soon as Ida's line of inquiry escaped into the room, she held her breath. Logically, she had no reason to be ashamed of her current position in society. But damn it if it also wasn't embarassing. Why did she need to ask for this advice in the first place? Someone like Cadwalder never had to discuss pragmatic trade-offs with his teachers to know what bloody prospects he should prefer. That smug, prim little thorn in her side.

Fortunately, Professor Foxwood's derisive snort of laughter over a confessed lack of cross-stitch ambition whisked the nerves right out of her body. Ida discreetly sighed in relief. Ha! So maybe she was onto something. Maybe there's a sign of hope? The newfound confidence inflated within Ida's chest almost enough for her to entirely ignore her mentor's acknowledgment of her family's preferences for future 'prospects'. The real headline was that Professor saw her potential in academia. Whatever father and brother Chang assumed, that's a problem for Ida-of-the-future to sort out... What she really needed in her cabinet of personal consultants was a mentor in feminine wiles to sway her family.

For now, the witch brimmed with (cautious) optimism as she listened raptly to her Professor's musing. She'd discretely mark a note here and there in her journal, particularly when something revelatory clicked into place within her mind's eye.
Wiles -- Dot, Suki, Poppy 
Flint Institute -- work and study, Prof F intro?
My salespitch for Ministry, academics -- Queenie, Prof T, Prof C, who else...
Monetary suppor

As Ida absorbed her mental note on that last word, shock made her quill stagger down the page in a fat, seeping inkblot. Professor Foxwood had shown her substantial and unwarranted kindness over the years... But this was truly unexpected.

"R-Really?" she gasped up from her notes, seemingly unable to withhold her skeptical reflex. It would seem any further commentary utterly failed the usually quick-witted Ravenclaw. After a beat, "Well yes, I... I would be more than pleased to continue my assistance in your work..." As much as Ida despised the sound of her inane, timid-sounding girl babble-- it was a small relief to hear that her brain finally stitched together a semblance of an appropriate response to her mentor's prospective offer for work.

Merlin, but something nagged at her. Something she hadn't the heart - or guts, more importantly - to suggest out loud. For one, her older brother was an asshat lawyer, which implied that he'd latch onto any future work contract like a pig in mud. Also likely: she'd be just a page shy of a full dissertation to rationalize her so-called "financial burden" to the family for pursuing an intellectual career.

Then, there was the matter of appearances. This topic... oh no,  definitely not something to unpack here. Mail correspondence was one thing, practicums among scholars another. But their time working together late after class already earned Ida plenty of teasing from giggly girlfriends. Once divorced from the safe constructs of school... Neither of them could control the rude assumptions-turned-malicious at the whim of just one deviant-minded debutante with too much idle time between her lacy claw-fingers. Ida heard.. no, she saw, how ladies fawned over brothers Foxwood at the Gala (the memory recalled a fresh wave of nausea). It didn't matter if Professor took interest in them or not. It only takes one spurned prospect to cause a speculative scene over this naive professor's impoverished idiot secretary. While Ida was the first to confess she didn't understand most of society's subtle cues... She couldn't afford to be an idiot.

Damn it all. I'm only thinking this way since Suki made me realize I need to protect myself, Ida seethed in brief, restless frustration over her predicament. Society felt like a battleground already... but more than anything, she refused to disappoint Professor Foxwood. Absolutely out of the question. This meant she had to be wary... to not accept promises she had no power to keep. 

"Though I must say. I'm not altogether sure how fair it is, considering the benefits I would reap can rival that of a small tuition," she ventured, feeling the need to extend a more diplomatic offer. A means for him to elegantly bow out - perhaps if he mispoke in his moment of pure kindness, and now regretted such a suggestion. Give him the garden shears to nip this far-flung idea in the bud.

"I suppose if you intended to seek help after my graduation anyway, you might publish a work advert," she put cautiously. Please-don't-take-this-the-wrong-way, her brain screamed, but surely he couldn't hear it (probably a good thing). "I would respond to it, of course. And prove my mettle as a matter of course. But I would not want to prevent you from securing the best candidates." 

---

Basil Foxwood

---

  

---

stefanie made this beautiful set <3

Basil was pleased with Ida’s reaction this time. He was always impressed by her enthusiasm for research and learning; it was such a pleasant change from the normal society flittering and tittering that ladies of a certain age were expected to demonstrate. Merlin forbid any of them actually use those gifted brains of theirs, lest their future husbands not think them adequately demure. It was a tragedy; one that he was cautiously optimistic Ida would never have to face if she was willing to brave the ton’s… disdain. That in itself was a miserable prospect, so he understood why her family might not want it for her. (Even the tiniest parts of him didn’t want anything to ever hurt Ms. Chang; Basil hated the thought of her ever coming to ridicule. But he believed in her. Her believed she was a genuinely brilliant individual who could do so much if given the right opportunities.)

Grinning then, and nodding his confirmation of her hearing, he watched as her face faltered and the expression there changed. His mirrored it. Her concern then seemed misplaced, and Basil puzzled at how quickly she could change her mind. “I can assure you Ms. Chang, any benefit you might reap pales by comparison to the help you provide me in my research. Besides,” he shifted a bit awkwardly. “I couldn’t promise you much, just enough to get by.” He didn’t want her to misunderstand. He could offer her something small, yes, but it would not be enough to carry her through. Not a full sponsorship, at least, until he spoke with Atticus.

At her suggestion he put out an advert, Basil finally frowned. This was not an offer he wanted to make to the general public, and even less so something he particularly wanted to draw attention to. Selecting a female assistant - regardless of her merit - was bound to draw conclusions from the ton that would only make things uncomfortable for them both. He understood her need to earn her place, of course, but it sounded like more trouble than it was worth.

Basil leaned back in his chair and debated broaching the awkwardly delicate subject. On the one hand, it was likely best they set the record straight between them. On the other, he didn’t want to plant uncomfortable thoughts in her mind if that was not where she was headed. Blasted society and it’s wretched norms! Basil already hated every last debutant and nosy mama who could possibly endeavor to make things difficult for them.

“Ms. Chang,” he finally said, leaning forward then and turning his quill between his fingers, hesitantly. “I do wonder if your hesitation might have anything to do with the… potential association between us that others might endeavor to contrive if you were to take a position that was not deemed by society to have been earned, in the most obvious way by application.” Because she had very much so earned the position on her own merit these past few years by her excellent quality of work thus far. Basil looked up at the girl carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. “If that is so, then I hate to admit it but the cruel reality of the matter is that regardless of how you accept my proposition, wretched minds will have their say. I would be remiss if I didn’t admit concern for your reputation over the matter, despite how unfair our system is” he paused, disgusted to even have to mention as much, “but the choice remains utterly and entirely yours. I can of course make concessions as to ease the gossip mongers by limiting our interaction to post, if that in any way placates you, but the measure of it is short: our society may turn, on the both of us. I can and will do everything in my power to prevent it, but it does not come without its risks.”

Basil sighed then, scrubbing a hand over his face tiredly. He hated every ounce of the way this conversation had turned. He couldn’t lie to her though; he wouldn’t hide the cruel reality of the facts. If she chose to continue their association, which he desperately hoped she would, then she had to be made aware. If not, then, Basil would bid her well and watch from the sidelines as she drove forward her own career.

“I do so hate these conversations,” he conceded. “But if you take anything from my unfortunate warning, please just… consider all your options. There are other avenues to continue both your own research, and studies, if you so choose. I will not hold any grudges if you decide to carve your own path.”

---

Ida Chang

---

The following 1 user Likes Basil Foxwood's post:1 user Likes Basil Foxwood's post
   Ida Chang

Good thing Ida was sitting down, for anxiety gripped her lungs and made her feel dizzy. Never in a million years had she imagined having a conversation like this. And now the currents of contradicting emotions swarmed and pricked at the back of her eyes, threatening to make themselves known. In an effort to stamp it out, the girl focused 110% of her attention on the rational: Professor's unflinching articulation of everything she implicitly knew. The things that now, on the other side of New Year, she finally had to examine. Her time of willful ignorance was about to expire.

"I hate these conversations too," she finally broke the silence in quiet agreement. "But I suppose that warnings are best received from a trusted ally, than discovered alone too late."

The girl shifted in her seat to look over her shoulder - down the length of the expansive classroom, and the open doors beyond it. Now that most classes for the day finished, they could see any students approaching from a mile away, and it was doubtful anyone could be within earshot without both of them noticing first.  As she turned back, a deep crease had formed between her brows.

"You know, Professor Twycross co-authored her first book with her father." It took a significant amount of willpower to not punctuate the statement with a scoff.  "Professor Cramming, she's incredible, though got her start working alongside her late husband. Then there's Miss Nye, did you know she's quite gifted with Arithmancy? I overhear her helping other students prepare for their NEWTs all the time. And yet..." It felt rude to state that she was still only a librarian. Mirroring her mentor's unshrinking tone, Ida recklessly went on, "From all the evidence I've seen, even the most gifted lady won't go far without support from someone. It is so easy for those who had that luxury of support all along, to suggest that I uncover and carve out my own path. I take exception to the idea, since none of them have done it themselves. Not one has successfully forged the route of a self-made woman the way I must. So I am thankful for your kindness, Professor. You might be the only one whose support I might have, by the end."

The Ravenclaw shifted uncomfortably and covered the bottom half of her face with her hand, realizing too late that perhaps she spoke too freely. Now that statement loomed over them in the room and reared its ugly head. This was more of a frank conversation than she'd had with anyone, even her dearest friends. Still, it felt oddly right - like they were friends, maybe?

"What I mean to say is... I am less worried about the reputational risk." Dropping her hand, Ida kept her eyes averted from Foxwood. This next part needed to be articulate, which meant she simply could not consider his reaction. "The truth is, my father sees me as a bargaining chip. An archaic token, to build an alliance in the merchant guild. All my aspirations in England, my well-being... reduced to a business decision." Aloof and factual as the girl tried to be, the truth cut at her now that she said it out loud. It also evaded what she really understood - that her father, and ostensibly her brother too, thought of her as little more than expensive cattle. The brunette only looked up once she was certain her eyes were dry and expression flat.

"So you see, Professor, I wish very much to take up your preposition, for in my mind I have no alternative. I do not intend to obey my family's wishes to marry abroad. I simply cannot accept it." Ida settled on her choice long ago. It happened once she understood that her mother, much like her now, had no one else in this world to care for or protect her future. A woman has to look after herself. "As a result, I am certain there will be repercussions. Though I do not yet know what those will be, I'm not afraid of society's wrath. For it is still a far better outcome for me. But for you..."

And this, here, was the real crux of Ida's hesitation. She turned up brown, searching eyes wrought with worry. "You have more to lose than I. Your family is prominent, your reputation and career, valuable. I couldn't forgive myself if any of this suffered due to your association with someone like me, an odd witch of so little standing." Doesn't that matter to you, the way it could look? She wanted to ask. Don't you care what society thinks? Why risk it? Ida shrank away from the statements on the tip of her tongue, because it simply felt too familiar for their relationship.

"I apologize for being so straightforward about the matter," she said instead. "But it is only fair for you to understand the entirety of my circumstances first. Once you consider it, I would take no offense if the matter should cause you to rescind your offer."

---

Basil Foxwood

---

  

---

stefanie made this beautiful set <3

Basil felt himself relax a pinch as Ms. Chang let out a breath and agreed that these conversations were both difficult, and tolerable when discussed with a trusted ally. He hoped to be that to her: a trusted ally. He wanted only what was best and made her happy, now and in her future pursuits. If that had been marrying into the upper classes, Basil would have happily introduced her to his single, decently tolerable acquaintances. Fortunately for him, and to Ms. Chang’s credit, that was not her ambition— or at least not solely, if it even was at all, though Basil could hardly see it being. (He wouldn’t have minded though, he supposed. It would be nice to see her friendly face at these ridiculous events he was forced into attending. At least then he’d have someone to converse with about practical, interesting things!)

Still, as she threw a glance over her shoulder and peered out into the hallway he felt a pang. It was wretched that they had to be so aware of societal pressures; it wasn’t fair to her, either, being at a distinct disadvantage as a woman. He was somewhat surprised, however, to hear the content of her next statement and a wry grin managed to twist onto Basil’s face despite his attempts to thwart it. Ms. Chang was not wrong. He also, momentarily, frowned at the thought that, hopefully, there was nobody out there pressuring her to do everything alone! It would not only be incredibly insensible, but also rather a stupid suggestion. Anyone who actually knew how their society worked would not be ridiculous enough to assume that a young woman of the middle class with no support from any angle (her family, her finances, a mentor) would have any scrap of luck getting anywhere in their field. It might not be right, but it was simply the way of things. Basil Foxwood was not a purist, classist narcissist but he was certainly pragmatic. And protective. “And you will have it!” he emphasized with a nod. “If, of course, you desire it.”

As Ms. Chang continued on to share details about her family, Basil felt his brow furrow further. Well here was a blow he hadn’t expected. It wasn’t… unusual, per say, even amongst the upper classes, for families to use their daughters to build alliances, strengthen bonds of blood, purity and ambition. It didn’t make hearing her predicament any easier, but Basil supposed he wasn’t shocked by it. An uncharacteristic swell of emotion did manage to ripple through him, however, with an urge to protect her from it. (Basil sometimes wondered if he was in the wrong business getting so attached to the well-being of so many students and being unable to actually help them with their non-academic, real-world problems. Perhaps he would start a charity some day.) Then, Ms. Chang stated her intention to accept him. Basil listened to her reasoning carefully. He didn’t like the idea of getting in the way of a father’s plans for their daughter, but he also did not want to step aside and force Ms. Chang into his rather absurd plans. She was far too bright and gifted to be sold as cattle. As she went on to discuss his repercussions, Basil raised his eyebrows in objection. Before her could interject however she was apologizing and he softened again.

“Please,” he said gently. “Do not apologize for being upfront. And, secondly, I am not in the least concerned about my own repetitional risk,” Basil chuckled. “I am already considered somewhat reclusive and odd simply because I prioritize academia,” Basil almost rolled his eyes at the statement. “Between the two of us,” he whispered conspiratorially. “I think some even call me an eccentric.” He chuckled again and raised his voice back to a normal volume. “It’s not the worst thing in the world, frankly.” Then, leaning back in his chair and considering the situation again, Basil studied Ida’s face.

She was so determined, and so compassionate. He couldn’t possibly share with her his misgivings about getting between her and her father. No, that would have to be something Basil dealt with when, and if, the time came. He fiddled with a quill on his desk before addressing her again. When he did, it was with some finality. “Well, it’s settled then.” Basil leaned forward in his chair and smiled at Ida. “I propose you continue to assist me with my work via post and I, in return, can offer you a small monthly to assist with lodging or whatever else you may require. In the meantime, if you are interested in the Flint Institute, I will write to Thaddeus and see what can be done about securing your position there.” He offered Ms. Chang a beaming smile. “I am quite invested in your success Ms. Chang,” he teased. “Please, let me intervene just this once.”

---

Ida Chang

---

  

Ida was tensed and completely prepared for Professor Foxwood’s immediate agreement with the “easy out” she gave him. That’s why she gave it: a diplomatic way to bow out of his offer for sponsorship with no hard feelings, fully cognizant of the burden that it would lay on him, appreciative even, for his devoted student to have such maturity and foresight.

So when that denial did not arrive - and indeed, it never did arrive - Ida could hardly contain the shock that wrote its way across her face. The girl had already shelved his gentle yet emphatic encouragement - and you will have it! - as his generally helpful demeanor.  Even the furrow of his brow as she recounted her story, she urged her speeding heartrate to take note of the fact that what she explained to him perhaps sounded a bit frightening and unusual. Upper class men, of course, never had to deal with the concept that their lives might be effectively sold to others for something as trivial as money. The idea may be new to him.

Silly, stupid girl, how can you misread so badly? she chided herself now. As Professor went on Ida simply marveled, quick to sense the way the current of the conversation had turned. He blew right past her professional barrier. He was being honest with her, too, with all the straightforwardness that she might hear come from Poppy’s mouth. (In fact she couldn’t help but notice the faintest familial resemblance as he spoke even more adamantly, a fact that she promptly filed away of course, because she was certain neither of them would want to hear it.) He called himself… eccentric, with a hushed tone!

“Oh,” she responded rather vapidly, a twitch of a smile appearing over his silly little confession before she averted her gaze down to the desk. Ida took a profound interest in her fingernails. He had properly dispensed of her only excuse, and to be perfectly honest, the feeling lifted an anvil from her chest like nothing else. She heard his wholehearted insistence on her agreement with a ten-second delay, but it processed it nonetheless. He would stay a friend to her, even after Hogwarts.

“Then… very well,” she relented finally. It took her just a moment of thoughtful silence, to finally let out a long, quiet breath and steady her racing thoughts about the next pieces needed in her research thesis. When the witch finally did look up to Foxwood, her eyes seemed a bit red-brimmed from tears that were quickly dispatched, but her face shone now with a smile that was warm and genuine. It was decided. “I would appreciate a letter to Mister Flint very much.  And… thank you, Professor,”you have no idea how much. “I have every intention to do my best work.”

---

Basil Foxwood

---

The following 1 user Likes Ida Chang's post:1 user Likes Ida Chang's post
   Basil Foxwood

---

stefanie made this beautiful set <3

Absolutely tickled that Ms. Chang finally agreed, Basil almost didn’t notice the subtle change in her expression. As ill-suited to these types of displays as he was, it almost might have been better had he not noticed, but as it was, Basil’s face abruptly fell. He felt a swelling of affection for the young girl and her red-rimmed eyes before him, but he didn’t know in that moment what to do. It was almost as if his brain had short circuited. Sitting up very, very straight, he looked at her appraisingly. “Er— don’t make that face, please,” Basil tried, a slightly awkward teasing note in his tone. He knew Ms. Chang well enough that he hoped she’d understand. “I’m not equipped to help with it,” he added, with a soft chuckle.

Reaching into his waistcoat pocket, Basil pulled out a clean handkerchief with a little embroidered ‘BAF’ on it. He handed it in the girl’s direction and resisted the urge to keep from patting her on the back. That was stilted, even for him. “I know you will,” he continued instead with a smile. “You’re one of my best and brightest, Ms. Chang. Do not kid yourself. While I do hold a deep affection for you, your talents are far superior to others and it would be a disservice not to intervene where I can.

Besides,” he added with a twinkle of mischief alight in delicate features. “I do have rather a selfish motivation to keep you around, too. Life simply would be more difficult for me without your aid as I’ve become much too accustomed to your preempting me.” He chuckled again. Here Basil felt his candor and honesty was bittersweet. He knew that for the time being yes, he could continue to have Ida assist him where it was warranted and he in turn could assist her, lending his name where applicable. But one day, and likely one day soon, she would branch out on her own and he would loose her assistance. It was for the best, however. The academic community would benefit greatly from her expertise.

---

Ida Chang

---

The following 1 user Likes Basil Foxwood's post:1 user Likes Basil Foxwood's post
   Ida Chang

Oh no– had she said something wrong? For a moment panic welled up in Ida’s chest, she knew she shouldn’t have gone so carried away daydreaming about research… that is, until she heard what it was that changed Professor’s expression.

A small giggle escaped Ida once she realized what this was all about. She looked down, covering her mouth to muffle any more tittering. Oh, so it was girls crying that stressed Professor Foxwood in this way. Noted. His discomposed reaction to it was equal parts unexpected, and hilarious.

“Ah, I’m not trying to make any face,” she admonished, as she tried in vain to restrain a new round of laughter and shrank further into her seat because the laughter now threatened fresh tears to spill. Ida hadn’t expected their conversation to take the course it did when she came into his office this afternoon, and she couldn’t be happier that it had.

“It’s–it’s fine, I’m fine,” she tried to explain, hastily taking the handkerchief he extended her way. Ida used it to dab at her eyes and momentarily cover her face to keep her shock-tears-turned-joyful-cackles in check. Only hearing his voice again helped her shove away the laughter, mind still a touch delirious in its happiness around what the implications of this offer meant for her future. Perhaps in any other context, Ida would have felt present enough to pick up and dwelled around a statement like the one Foxwood made - the deep affection that he had for her, so earnestly stated. But as it was, Ida skipped right over that sentiment and any of its prospective implications. Instead she considered herself deeply flattered that he appreciated her intellect. Thought of her as an equal, even. If she can just stay on track with her advanced studies.

“Well in that case. I will be available to help you for the foreseeable future,” Ida stated resolutely, face decidedly more chipper as she delicately folded up the handkerchief on the desk in front of her. Crying to him was only a smidge mortifying. But worth it, since it helped clear the slate and put at ease much of her first major stressor. Contending with her family – that was the next hurdle, and one that felt much more feasible to tackle on her own. It even granted her with enough optimism to level him a cheeky grin. “At least until I can break off and do my own thing. I’ll be sure to include you in my acknowledgements with my first book, too. You just wait.”

---

The following 1 user Likes Ida Chang's post:1 user Likes Ida Chang's post
   Basil Foxwood

---

stefanie made this beautiful set <3