7. Muggle artefacts

Hermione was walking through the Muggle part of Ottery St Catchpole. Instead of apparating straight to the front door of the Burrow, she preferred to walk the last stretch of the route home. Skirting around the village green, she followed a winding road that led out of the village. The street lighting was scarce, but she had no fear of the dark as she passed from light to shadow and back to the light. The street was silent apart from the occasional passing car. From time to time she glanced up at the houses she passed every night, around dinnertime or later. Behind their tall fences and long front gardens, the lights were on in most of the houses. She walked on, keeping up a brisk pace.

Towards the edge of the village, she arrived before a gap between houses, a plot of overgrown land on which a disaffected, brick-enclosed electricity substation stood, set back a little from the road. A faded 'for sale' sign protruded from the tangled bushes, forlorn in the orange glare of a streetlight. She stopped in front of the abandoned plot and peered through the glare at the disused substation building, as she did almost every night. Her eyes ran over the cryptic words that had been daubed on the windowless brick wall of the building:

Britain

needs

a witch hunt

The message had appeared some months previously. She knew full well that it could be interpreted in any number of ways, but its proximity to a cluster of wizarding families seemed too much of a coincidence. She had mentioned it to Ron and his family, but no one had thought it important, and no one had wanted to come with her to see it, not even Ron. There were no more real dangers those days.

She stood on the narrow pavement and read the message again. About a month earlier, she had seen scrawled on a wall in Dalston the words 'Root out witches'. Was that coincidence too? Who in the Muggle world believed in witches strongly enough to write graffiti on a London street?

As she looked on, fresh words suddenly started to appear on the wall, as if being written by an invisible hand. She reached into her pocket and gripped her wand, transfixed by the scene in front of her. After a few moments, the new message was complete. It was written in red letters, just below the older message:

Witchcraft is real and to be feared.

What I say is the truth, I am one of them.

Hermione wheeled around, but didn't take out her wand. She thought she saw a flicker of movement a little way off down the street, but that part of the road was in darkness. All was silent again and the lights were still shining obliviously in the houses on either side of the substation. She returned her gaze to the wall, reading the words again and again. She would be adding it to her collection.

The Weasley family were gathered around the dinner table in the Burrow. George and Percy had evidently joined Mr and Mrs Weasley, Ron and Ginny for dinner. By the time Hermione arrived, the last of it had already cleared itself away: it was commonplace that she wasn't back in time for dinner. As she entered the kitchen, her portion of the evening meal sprang from the pot on the stove and arranged itself neatly on the table, place mat, knives and forks and all, in her usual spot between Ron and Ginny. Well-worn smiles of understanding greeted her as she sat down at the table. She said a quick thank-you as she sat down, her head bowed slightly in a ritual act of contrition towards Ron's mother. 'You're welcome, dear,' Mrs Weasley replied, in a voice that was only too aware of the inevitability of the situation.

Hermione turned to Ron and delivered a quick, soft-voiced 'Hi'. As she did, the thought that she could be about to find Harry rushed back into her mind. She wondered if it showed on her face. She glanced across the room for an instant, as if something had caught her eye. Then she looked back at him. No, I don't think I gave anything away.

'…Anyway, the misuse of Muggle artefacts has become simply the use of Muggle artefacts,' said Mr Weasley, apparently resuming a conversation that had started before Hermione entered the kitchen. She started to open her mouth to mention what she had just seen, but stopped.

'In fact, the Ministry is giving up on trying to control them,' Mr Weasley concluded.

Hermione swallowed her first mouthful of food and looked up. The subject was of interest to her: it worried her too.

'I heard that Muggle artefacts are turning up even at Hogwarts nowadays,' she put in.

Professor McGonagall herself had mentioned it on a recent visit to the Ministry. Hermione had come across her in the upper cafeteria, stooped over a cup of tea. Between you and me, Hermione, she had said, with a swift gesture at her teacup, I need this after a meeting with that Myra Tremayne. In fact, a shot of whisky wouldn't go amiss.

'Teachers are finding more and more students with mobile phones,' Hermione added.

'Is that right?' said Mrs Weasley in a disapproving tone.

'Muggle studies has never been so popular,' Mr Weasley continued. I wonder who told him that?

'It's the new generation,' said Hermione.

'Aren't you supposed to be the new generation?' remarked Percy.

Hermione shrugged.

'Not really,' she replied.

'Speak for yourself,' said Ginny sardonically.

'Younger wizards are more and more interested in the Muggle world, in Muggle music, Muggle films,' Hermione continued. 'So it's no wonder Muggle artefacts keep turning up everywhere.'

'More Muggle artefacts are turning up in this house than ever before,' interrupted Mrs Weasley, with a withering stare at Ron. Ron looked away and back towards his father, who promptly continued with what might have been called a rant if it hadn't been delivered in so affable a tone.

'First they send us extra staff to deal with all the cases of wizards using Muggle artefacts. Then they cut our staff, arguing that it's no longer possible to control the situation. We're just supposed to monitor and document it. The word is that we're going to be merged with the Muggle Liaison Office.'

'The irony of it is,' remarked Percy from the far end of the table, 'that wizards were more united before the fall of Voldemort.'

How easily everyone says his name these days.

'I don't remember all of us being so united,' commented George.

'Well, we were in the end,' replied Percy quickly, a slight blush on his cheeks. 'We were focused on defeating Voldemort. We didn't really think about Muggles all that much, except that by defeating Voldemort we would be saving them. The Muggles never knew what happened. Just that a spate of mysterious deaths and disappearances died down. The Muggles are as ignorant of us as always.'

Are they? Hermione was about to interrupt but Percy went on.

'But like Hermione says, Muggles have become more interesting to wizards. Dad used to be seen as an eccentric. Sorry Dad.'

'No offence, son,' replied Mr Weasley, a wistful grin on his face.

'Muggles used to be seen as simple, primitive even. But now they have devices that do things that even wizards think of as useful.'

'Ah, I always thought that,' remarked Mr Weasley, a twinkle in his eye.

'Yeah, but you were more into those Muggle machines that did things in an hour that a wizard could do in two seconds with a wave of his wand,' replied Ron.

'It is amazing,' said Mr Weasley, still wistful, 'the amount of effort they put into devising something like a dishwasher.'

'A dishwasher's one thing,' said Percy. 'Even I admit that there's something rather endearing about the fact that Muggles make such things. But some wizards are starting to prefer the Muggles' 'technology', as they call it, over magic.'

'I suppose that's another dig at my games console,' said Ron, who was just starting on a piece of toast.

'It certainly is a dig at your games console,' said Hermione, looking at him drily. The console was a constant source of annoyance to her.

'Hermione's right,' said Mrs Weasley. 'When was the last time you got any exercise, Ronald Weasley?'

'Even I'm starting to regret the day I brought that into our home,' added Mr Weasley.

'Blimey, things really are getting serious round here!' said Ron with an air of wounded exasperation.

'I have to admit,' said Ginny, 'some people these days seem to see magic as nothing more than some kind of labour-saving device. Why walk when you can apparate? Why do any work when you can use magic to do it for you?'

'I thought you said you were the new generation,' said George mischievously. 'All of a sudden you sound like you're complaining about them.'

'It's not just younger people I'm talking about,' replied Ginny, giving her brother a dirty look. 'What about Ron here?'

'Do you mind?!' Ron spluttered through a mouthful of toast. 'What's everybody got against me tonight?'

'It's nothing personal, Ron,' said Hermione in as placatory voice as she could manage. 'But you do like that console.'

'That's right dear,' said Mrs Weasley, standing up and bustling round the table. 'I'd just like to see you on that thing a bit less. Now, I've got some work to do.'

There was a lull in the conversation as Mrs Weasley gathered up her knitting and went through to the parlour.

'Wizards have got complacent,' said Hermione in a low voice, breaking the silence. No one reacted straight away. She looked down, feeling everyone's eyes on her.

'Perhaps the wizarding world is just evolving,' said Ron, putting down his toast and staring defiantly at the assembled company. 'That must happen from time to time.'

'It is evolving, and you're right Ron, it's inevitable,' said Hermione. 'But what if it's not just changing, but has actually gone into decline? I'm not against progress, I admit to using a mobile phone as much as any of us, but what if technology has reached a point where it makes magic seem less necessary, less enchanting?'

She looked around the table. So far everyone was following her in silence.

'Anyway, Muggles are just as worried about the effects of their own technology. I read it all the time in the papers and on the internet. I've heard Mum and Dad and their friends talking about it at dinner parties, more than once. Civilisations rise and fall. I suppose wizarding civilisation can rise and fall as well.'

'Steady on there,' said George. 'How did you get from mobile phones to the collapse of civilisation?'

Hermione blushed slightly. She probably sounded like one of the guests at her parents' dinner parties, railing at the ills of the world halfway through their second glass of Shiraz.

'Ok,' she conceded. 'Maybe that's pushing it a bit far.'

'The real point, though,' said Percy, '… and a few wizards nowadays could do with remembering it, is that magic is a very different thing from Muggle technology, and much more powerful. We should remember how separate our worlds are.'

'Are they?' said Hermione. Her voice came out louder than she had intended.

'What do you mean?' said Ginny.

'What I mean,' Hermione continued, softening her voice, 'is that Muggles seem ever more likely to suspect and believe that we exist.'

She looked around; they were all looking at her. She took a deep breath and went on.

'I see signs that the Muggles are waking up to us. And when they do they fear us.'

'You mean your Muggle graffiti,' said Ron.

'Exactly,' said Hermione.

'Hermione,' replied Mr Weasley, 'I know we've talked about this before. If there is fear among Muggles, it's fear of the unknown. There are plenty of Muggles who believe there's such a thing as witchcraft and who fear it. But given what they imagine witchcraft to be, they could be walking down Diagon Alley and they still wouldn't realise they were in the presence of true magic.'

'You're right,' said Hermione, 'but is it really so inconceivable that with enough persistence, those who believe in and fear the existence of magic could find a way to cross the threshold?'

'There are barriers in place to stop that,' said Percy. 'It remains one of the Ministry's main tasks, as you know.'

'You could be on the trail of wizards for years on end,' Mr Weasley continued. 'But the chances of actually coming across an opening to the wizarding world on your own are tiny.'

'That's all true of course,' said Hermione. 'But what if someone opened the door to them?'

She described what she witnessed that night. Then she fell silent and lowered her gaze to her mug of tea.

'It's probably someone's idea of a joke,' said George. 'A kid from one of the local wizarding families probably thought it would be funny to write a threatening reply to the Muggle graffiti.'

'They wouldn't be allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts,' replied Hermione.

'Point taken,' said George. 'Not kids then.'

Mr Weasley was thoughtful. Finally he turned to Hermione.

'Hermione, you shouldn't read too much into what you saw tonight. But as for your idea that there may be wizards who would deliberately reveal our secrets to Muggles, there's something in that. It's worth consideration, but I have no idea how you would go about detecting it.'

'I'll be giving it some thought,' said Hermione, her eyes flashing. For a few moments no one said anything else on the subject. She looked down at her dinner. It was quite obviously cold and now she noticed that she was really quite hungry. Quietly she started to eat.

'Time for me to head off,' said Percy, getting up from the table. 'Thanks for dinner, Mum!' he shouted, calling through to Mrs Weasley in the parlour.

'You're welcome, dear,' came Mrs Weasley's voice from the other room.

He turned to Mr Weasley. 'Dad, could I have a word?' Mr Weasley nodded and they left the kitchen together.

Ron drummed his fingers on the kitchen table.

Ginny sighed. 'I suppose you're itching to get back on your console.'

'No,' said Ron, without much conviction.

'What do you get out of it? It's totally childish,' Ginny continued. 'You should get some exercise too,' she added, jabbing a finger into his stomach.

'Oi, watch it,' said Ron. 'It's just a bit of fun. I'm not going to theorise about it. And the wizarding world isn't going to fall down around our ears as a result of it. It's a release.'

Hermione put down her fork and turned to him.

'A release from what, Ronald?' She seemed more curious than annoyed.

'It's just a bit of excitement, you know?'

'Is it exciting?' she asked drily, her eyebrows raised. 'Vicarious, automated pleasure, that's all it is. If you want a bit of excitement you should get on your broom and get out in the fresh air.'

'Oh, like a certain person used to do, you mean?'

She realised she had stopped thinking about him, distracted by muggles, their technology and their suspicions. Should I tell them? We haven't mentioned his name for so long. Maybe things have calmed down by now.

Ginny stood up abruptly from the table.

'See you later, guys,' she said and headed off up the stairs.

Ok, I get it. She said nothing. Ron, on the other hand, had more to say on the subject.

'Look where that gets you. I'll stick to my vicarious pleasures, if you don't mind.'

They're still angry about it. She looked down at the kitchen table at the remains of her dinner. Then she picked up her fork and silently began to eat what was left of it.