"Today, boys and girls, we'll be learning about advertising in the Muggle world." Hermione predictably pulled out her quill and a ream of parchment to take notes.
The class typically consisted of a central topic, such as advertising, and then common trends in the Muggle world. If history became particularly important, such as when the television was invented, the teacher would rattle off a few important dates. Besides that, she didn't delve into history, simply because it wouldn't be useful for her pupils in the future. These children would need to learn how to ride a subway, not know the year when the subway was invented. In her lesson today, her students would simply need to learn some examples of Muggle advertising.
"As you all know, wizards typically advertise things through the Daily Prophet, or they have shops in some of the more well-known streets and villages in the wizarding world. In addition, wizards will often peddle their products until someone with a shop agrees to carry them. That's really the extent of buying things here. We go into the shop that we know sells brooms, and we buy a broom from them. Sure, we saw the announcement in the Daily Prophet about the new broom, but we didn't see the tens of different ways to illustrate that broom as something worth buying. Does that make sense?"
That phrase quickly became the cornerstone of Muggle Studies. The first year she taught, she decided to open with a discussion on Muggle television. Quickly, asked, "Does that make sense?" expecting a chorus of nods. Instead, more than a few students said, "But how do they get the pictures to move without magic?" Of course she answered, "With electricity." The dinner plate sized eyes indicated that these children had no idea what electricity was, let alone how it could power things. This time, thankfully students nodded their heads. A couple in the back rested their heads on their desks, preparing to take a nap. The teacher couldn't blame them; the room felt incredibly stuffy, and one of the House Elves decided the smell of cinnamon buns would be a wonderful scent early in the morning. She agreed with them, but it also wasn't the best smell in the world for keeping awake.
"So, I'll start with one of the most iconic of Muggle advertisements. This cereal," she said, passing around a box, "is called Lucky Charms, and it's one of the more popular varieties among Muggle children." Her fourth year students glanced at the box, a bit weary of what was inside. The teacher couldn't blame them; the smiling leprechaun was more than a little creepy for people who didn't understand the gimmick. A couple Muggleborns laughed when they saw her example. Doubtless they had eaten the cereal before. One boy, Seamus Finnigan, quickly opened the box and grabbed a handful before passing it to the student on his left.
"Mr. Finnigan, I'll have you know those are probably over a year old," she chastised.
"Yes professor, but I'll have you know that cereal doesn't go bad," retorted Finnigan.
"I don't want to take points, Mr. Finnigan, but I will if pushed," hedged the teacher.
"Yes, mum."
"Now, who knows what the creepy leprechaun is? Muggleborns may not answer this question."
A pureblooded fourth year raised a tentative hand, "Is it an advertising whatever-you-call-them? The book says something that starts with a g."
"Yes, that's called a gimmick, and five points to Ravenclaw. A gimmick is a device used to entice buyers towards a specific product. This "gimmick" is the leprechaun and the children chasing him because the leprechaun stole their Lucky Charms cereal. What does that do?"
Hermione's hand shot into the air. "Miss Granger?"
"By having the children chase after the cereal, the gimmick implies that the cereal is worth being chased and thus desirable for any sensible consumer."
Finnigan snorted, "The way this stuff tastes? I would chase someone with this as a threat!"
"Five points, Mr. Finnigan. Let's not go for ten."
"Yes, mum."
"In addition to these print ads, so called because they're in the form of stationary pictures," the teacher would deal with the printing press another day, "there are commercials on the television. Does everyone remember our discussion of Muggle entertainment via television?" This time she was relieved to see nods. "Good. Well, between shows, companies pay to show small videos about their products to convince Muggles to buy them. Most Muggles just find them annoying, so I don't know much the commercials actually achieve." A small shudder went through the teacher when she remembered the day she taught her students about what companies were. Most wizard entrepreneurs were young upstarts, similar to Fred and George's enterprise form the Gryffindor Common Room that the students still believed secret. Large magical corporations only really existed in the form of Broom manufacturing; even Gringotts served as a fairly local enterprise.
"Just one moment," the teacher left and returned with an ancient television, complete with two oddly bent antennae. "If this works, which it often doesn't," a couple snickers went around the room at the sight of the television. "we can see a typical Muggle commercial."
Hermione's hand either rose to ask a question or decided that the best way to reach the moon was by trying to grab it at approximately 10 in the morning. The teacher felt she was safe to assume the former. "Yes, Ms. Granger?"
"How does a television work in Hogwarts? We don't have any electrical outlets." Hermione knew better than to use the word "plug," thank Merlin.
"Professor Flitwick charmed it to work almost like a television on batteries." The professor ignored the very confused stares she got from most students in the room. Batteries remained as next week's battle. She feared it might take up their entire double period. "Without further ado…"
"Professor, did you take a recording of the commercial?"
"Yes, this television was specifically charmed to play this commercial and this commercial only when I press the power button. We rarely show video demonstrations in class, so the money wasn't too much of a problem." "Especially with televisions like this one," the teacher added to herself. Hermione, satisfied, let her hands fold neatly in her lap.
The teacher pressed the television's power button, and prayed that the decrepit machine would work. "Oh, perfect!" she said as the fuzzy picture snapped into focus.
"Uh oh, those kids are after me lucky charms!" the class laughed as the stout leprechaun dove into the red balloon, which rose into the sky.
After a couple seconds, "Wait, how is that even allowed to happen? Shooting stars can't strike down hot air balloons!"
"Ms. Bones, in commercials Muggles often use fantastic elements to add a layer of 'magic' to their products." That earned a few snickers. The teacher added a point to her personal house.
Several kids laughed as the commercial drew to a close. The leprechaun landed on an island after his balloon was destroyed and used one of his magical marshmallows as a patch. Then he dropped the box of cereal as his balloon floated away. Apparently this cereal was "magically delicious."
"Like I said," Finnigan piped up, "Definitely not magically delicious. More like marginally, really."
"You know Seamus," one of the girls began slyly, "you kind of sound like him, the leprechaun I mean."
Seamus Finnigan had probably never flushed a deeper red, unless someone insulted his mother of course. Then all bets were off. "I-I'm not a leprechaun!" he blustered. "I'm just from Dublin, for Merlin's sake!"
"I don't know if it's right for leprechauns to take Merlin's name in vain, Seamus," taunted a Ravenclaw fourth year. The teacher noticed that even Hermione was having trouble refraining.
"Well, I think that's enough of the lesson for today. You all understand now why this cereal is more appealing? By adding a story behind it, consumers find it exciting. In the Muggle world, products often sell as much for the story as for the product. Tomorrow we'll begin our lesson with your Muggle poet presentations! Remember that you have to have one thousand words written. Don't look at me that way, Mr. Thomas. We both know you had the entire weekend for the assignment. Class dismissed!"
As the class ran out of the Hallway, one of the girl's nudged Finnigan. "Oh sorry Seamus!" she squeaked in mock fear, "I'm not after your lucky charms!"
"Why would I care? Look, no one's after me lucky charms! In fact, these lucky charms are all mine."
"Mr. Finnigan!" rose a shrill voice from the end of the corridor. Professor McGonagall looked ready to spit fire, and perhaps roast him alive inside the flames.
Seamus shrunk back, "Yes professor?"
"Fifteen points from Gryffindor!" she barked.
"For what, professor?"
"For using obviously perverse language in the corridors. Lucky charms indeed." Professor McGonagall strode away, leaving Finnigan to question everything he assumed about breakfast cereals in her wake.
AN 3/14/13: I used the following Lucky Charms commercial: watch?NR=1&v=foghWSflbIA&feature=endscreen