Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter NOR any of his friends NEITHER any of his enemies. It's hard to admit, but when I'm done with them all, I have to return them to Joanne K. Rowling in an original wrapping and unharmed. I make no money, I mean no harm.
Patchwork
If This Is the First Time
Tisha entered the classroom with an exciting feeling of anticipation. It was her first lesson - Monday at one o'clock - and there were third-years awaiting their first Muggle Studies lesson in there, probably as thrilled as her.
At the sight of their faces, however, she had to admit they didn't seem thrilled. Not all of them, at the very least. Maybe... maybe one of them was actually looking forward to learning something about Muggles.
There were seven boys and four girls in the class. The boys, with only one exception, were looking as if there was nothing less interesting in the world than the subject they had elected to study. The girls were sitting as close as possible, had been whispering just before Tisha entered the classroom from her office and had hard time suppressing chuckling.
Tisha chose to ignore that.
"Hello, class. My name is Laeticia Malfoy and I will teach you Muggle Studies. Let's take the roll call first, so I will know your names." The students followed the routine obediently and Tisha grew more confident. She put the parchment aside and perched on her desk facing the students.
"Now, let's start with what you already know," she said. The students looked at each other helplessly. "What do you know about Muggles? Anything, I don't expect an essay from you, just few tidbits," Tisha continued, trying to sound encouragingly. Finally one of the boys raised a hand. Tisha glanced at the parchment, not wanting to embarass herself by mixing up her students.
"Yes... erm, Mr. Smith?"
"They can't do magic," the boy answered.
"Excellent - Muggles can't perform magic!" Tisha stood up and scribbled big MUGGLES on the blackboard, then put a "can't do magic" as the first point. "Anything else?"
"They are stupid!" another boy cried. Tisha put it on the blackboard, too, but on the right side, not quite under the headline.
"They use ec-le-ci-ty," a girl with big blue eyes added.
"Electricity, yes," Tisha corrected her and put it in the left column.
"They are evil" and "die young" were put under stupid, while "wear funny clothes" and "take forever to get anywhere" were added in the left column.
"Is that all? Okay." Tisha drew a line between the two columns. "The things I put on the left are true, or at least not completely incorrect. On the right, we get the most common myths about Muggles. Muggles can't perform magic, which is the most important difference between them and wizards. The fact that they don't dress like wizards comes from the seclusion between the wizarding and Muggle worlds. They can't Apparate, obviously, and don't use the Floo System, so travelling the Muggle way takes longer. And they use a technology different from magic, of which electricity is an example."
Tisha looked at the children. Most of them were interested now, which pleased her, and she smiled before she went on:
"The myth about stupid Muggles comes mostly from misunderstanding of the wizarding people. Muggles use different tools based on different technology and their daily routine is different from ours. They don't know about our world, but that is because the Ministry of Magic makes sure they don't learn, using magical means Muggles can neither detect nor deflect. Their intelligence isn't affected, but their logic and knowledge is strange to wizards."
"This is rubbish," one of the boys interrupted her. He had crossed his arms on his chest and watched Tisha with an expression of utter disgust.
"Mr. Forsythe," Tisha said slowly, "I hope you realise this class is an optional. You can choose to attend it or you can choose to drop it, however, if you decide to be here, you will pay attention to what I say, you won't interrupt me without a very, very good reason, and you won't argue with me unless you have a proof I am wrong. Do you have a proof I am wrong?" Forsythe didn't seem to be impressed by Tisha's speech, but he didn't seem to have any argument, either.
"My dad says all Muggles are stupid," he answered after a while.
"Could it be Ignatius Forsythe? How many Muggles does he know? Because when I saw him the last time, he didn't know any." This took the young Forsythe by surprise and he muttered something incoherent, dropping his gaze.
"I have known hundreds of Muggles over the past years. Some of them were, indeed, stupid, but so are some of the wizards I know," Tisha announced. "I have also known a lot of really smart Muggles." One of the girls - Eveline Pincette, Tisha reminded herself - raised her hand, her face one big question mark.
"Are Muggles smarter than wizards?" she asked eagerly.
"No, not as a rule," Tisha answered. "As far as I can tell, with the exception of the magical abilities, Muggles are about as smart and gifted as wizards." The class accepted it without a struggle, although Forsythe seemed to be sceptical. Tisha could already see him running to the owlery, sending a letter to his father about the new teacher. There was nothing she could do about it at the time, and if Ignatius turned out to be as much of a berk he had seemed to be all those years ago and complained, Tisha was confident the Headmistress would back her up.
"So Muggles aren't evil?" Pincette asked.
"Not all of them. It's just the same as with wizards - there are a few really good and a few really evil, but most are somewhere in between."
"But they do die young!" Smith said. Everyone turned to him and he grew red. "I mean, I know from my uncle who works in research they don't live long."
"They die younger than wizards, true. The average Muggle man lives sixty-eight to seventy years and the average woman about two to three years longer. There are, of course, those who live longer than that, but it's very rarely more than one hundred years. They are also more vulnerable than wizards, because they lack the protection one's magic can provide. But they don't regard dying after sixty as dying young, and in fact, you would hardly call someone over sixty young yourselves," Tisha explained, betting that at the age of thirteen, they would most probably see anybody over twenty as already half-way into their graves.
After a short period of silence, a hand waved in the air.
"Miss Pincette?"
"How come they don't know about us? When we go to the Diagon Alley, they are everywhere on the street, but they never enter the pub. I mean, they never even try!" She looked genuinely puzzled.
"Wizards can not only perform magic, but also sense it. Muggles can't. They can be affected by it, though. That means it's possible to jinx or hex a Muggle, and unless the charm has a visible result, the Muggle wouldn't even know. Of course, such things are strictly illegal," she added in a stern voice. The grins that had appeared at the words jinx or hex faded.
"I once saw a hexed box in the street," Samuel Smith blurted out. "All the Muggles would come and throw something in it and they would get stung. The Ministry people came then to fix it."
"Yes, that's an example of an illegal action," Tisha nodded.
"But one of the Muggles wouldn't touch the box," Smith continued. "She was walking around and watching it with a funny expression. I heard her saying to other Muggles the box was evil." All faces turned to Tisha, expecting an explanation, and although Forsythe pretended to be bored, he listened quietly.
"There are Muggles who have a little talent. This is because of the dual quality of magical talent." She had supposed the basic theory was a part of the first year curriculum, but guessing by their confusion, they didn't have a clue. "The magical talent consists of two parts - the ability to sense magic and the ability to perform magic. In order to develop, both parts have to be present. Some Muggles have one of the abilities, but it is not developped, so they can't train it or use it. For example, if a Muggle has the ability to sense magic, he or she feels strange around cursed objects and places. They can't analyse the feeling, but they can interpret it as a threat. If they have the ability to perform magic, they can make things fly around when they get upset or something similar, but again, they can't control such outbursts of magic at all."
"And if they have both abilities, they can make things fly and they feel bad about it," Forsythe said in a bored voice.
"Wrong." He looked at her and didn't say anything. "If they have both abilities, they are wizards."
"Or witches," Pincette piped in and Tisha beamed at her.
"Or witches," she agreed.
When Hermione and Draco met Neville at the Hogwarts gate, it was windy and slightly drizzling. All of them had their trunks floating behind them as they set off for the castle.
"I didn't know you had your licence yet, Draco," Neville muttered.
"I don't," Draco shrugged. "Are you going to tell on me?" Neville grinned at that. Although Draco usually claimed he hadn't done anything useful for the Order during the war, his skills at Apparition and even Side-Along Apparition had been put to good use more than once. Neville remembered the one occassion when Draco had saved his life by transporting him to safety, and pointing out to the Ministry that Draco was Apparating without a licence was the last thing on Neville's mind.
Especially since the main reason Draco still didn't have the licence was someone from the Ministry making sure he would always be too busy to attend the examinations.
"Look, there's Hagrid!" Hermione exclaimed suddenly. Neville frowned. The last time Hagrid had met Draco, he tried to kill him, and although it had been months since that day, there was still a chance Hagrid would let his hurt take over. Draco visibly paled. He hadn't forgotten the incident either. But then, it was hard to forget a half-giant picking you up and shaking your body in the air, Neville mused as he allowed Draco to move slightly behind him.
Hagrid looked up from whatever he had been doing and waved at them. He closed something on the ground - no doubt a cage or a box with a dangerous magical creature - and walked over to greet them.
"Hullo, Hermione. Neville," Hagrid greeted them amicably. His eyes flashed a little as he saw Draco, but he didn't say anything.
"Hello, Hagrid, how are you?" Hermione asked.
"Fine, thanks." Hagrid fixed his gaze on Draco, who mumbled a quiet greeting.
"Do you still teach Care of Magical Creatures?" Neville asked before Hagrid could say something harsh.
"No, Professor McGonagall wanted me ter take care of the forest. There's sommat left in there." Hagrid looked happy about his task.
"Well - I hope you won't miss teaching," Hermione said.
"Ah, I'll have lessons fer children who'll wan' ter see somethin' interestin' time ter time," Hagrid answered with a content smile. "Jus' not the regular lessons. Professor McGonagall says I'll have enough ter do in the forest." Hagrid waved his big hand in the general direction of the Forbidden Forest and his face adopted an excited expression.
"Well, we should be going - Professor Sprout wants to see us at half past one," Neville said. The rain grew thicker. They parted and as the weather changed abruptly from unpleasant to terrible, Hermione, Neville and Draco broke into a run. Despite that, they reached the front door completely drenched.
"What are the three of you doing here, getting mud on everything?" a hostile and very familiar voice said. Neville and Draco exchanged exasperated looks. Their shoes had got wet and muddy, but to call it getting mud on everything - they had barely stepped into the Entrance Hall!
"We're sorry, Mr. Filch," Hermione was saying as politely as possible. "We would clean ourselves right away, of course, only if I recall correctly, magic is not allowed in the corridors." And she smiled. Filch turned a violent shade of red.
"You'll scrub it the good old way, you!" he shouted.
"Of course, Mr. Filch," Hermione replied. "Just let me get to the nearest toilet to get a bucket and some water - it's the one on the first floor, isn't it? Only, we will probably get more mud on the floor - but if it has to be, it has to be."
In all his years at Hogwarts, Filch had met a very few students who would stand up to him, but he had never met any who would do so by agreeing with him. He was wordlessly staring at Hermione until a rush of sapphires made him turn to the hourglasses.
"Some Ravenclaw got lucky," Filch mumbled disapprovingly, as if gaining a few points for one's house was something dirty. He then headed for his office, all the way muttering something.
As soon as a distant sound of a door being closed indicated Filch had reached his destination, Draco and Neville burst out laughing.
"That was... that was..." Neville stammered, flailing his arms to indicate what it had been.
"Hermione, you're not the best witch in the year," Draco managed finally. "You're best of them all!"
"Oh, well, um... where is Professor Sprout's office? Do you know?" Hermione asked to cover her embarassment. She had grown slightly pink and she looked very pretty all of sudden, Neville realised.
"It's on the first floor, where McGonagall's office used to be," Draco said. "Good think I asked, eh?"
"I knew there was something we wanted you for," Hermione agreed. She led the way and they stopped before the door after a short walk through the nearly deserted corridors. They hesitated, each wishing someone else would knock, unsure for no reason they could name.
In the end, at half past one sharp, Hermione knocked at the door.
A/N: I derived this little theory of two parts of magical talent from what I know about genetics and from what I know about the magic in HP universe. JKR claims that the "magical gene" is dominant. That explains the existence of Squibs (both parents have only one "magical gen") aside from natural mutation (which is rare compared to the number of Squibs in population), but makes existence of Muggleborn siblings such as the Creevey brothers improbable (a Muggleborn wizard/witch can only be a result of a certain mutation). The combination of two genes, however, explains everything - it is possible to pass a non-magical genes set even if the parent has a magical genes set (note, everyone has two sets of DNA information, and for dominant genes, just one appearance is enough) and at the same time, it is possible to have magical genes of only one type (therefore undevelopped) and meet a partner with the other magical genes (again undevelopped), reaching nearly 100 possibility of having a magically gifted children.
There are more ways to explain this (and most of them would be most likely more ellegant then mine). Read Whitehound's review to this chapter if you want to learn more and need to start somewhere.
Well, if you understand genetics, you probably already know better than I explain; if you don't, I'm afraid I've forgotten too much to give a detailed explanation, especially in English.