Interlude

Gaining Wisdom…

Hermione, Age just over 4-and-a-half

Hermione was taking refuge in the school library. She had been attending Magdalen College School since the beginning of the school year; her parents deciding that since she could read and comprehend complicated novels she should be in a learning institution. To celebrate her first day, her parents had taken her out to a show afterwards. She'd been so excited – her parents were doing something with her! – and had decided that school had to be good, and she had to be good at it, because it made her parents notice her. Since that day, however, Hermione had barely even seen her parents again and because she could read so well, found the lessons so easy and was smaller and younger than all the other kids she'd made no friends; instead she'd been picked on - a lot.

It was hard. Going from her silent home, where the only company she had was her bitter nurse, to her noisy school, where even though she could learn new things and had access to a new library, she had no company at all. Sometimes the librarian would shoot strange looks at her and she worried that even this sanctuary would be lost.

The young girl turned her attention back to her book - an introductory manual on the Chinese belief of chi. Not being English, it was the sort of "nonsense" her grandparents wouldn't have in their own library, the one her parents had inherited, which meant Hermione was extremely curious and glad to get her hands on it.

In the Sinosphere, qi (/ˈtʃiː/ CHEE) is traditionally believed to be a vital force part of all living entities. Literally meaning 'vapor', 'air', or 'breath', the word qi is polysemous, often translated as 'vital energy', 'vital force', 'material energy', or simply 'energy'...

Hermione let the words carry her away from the realisation that there was no-where and no-one she might ever fit in with. If there was a tear making its way down her cheek, she let the words carry that away too.

Ron, Age 4-and-a-bit

Ron lay in the old bed in his small room squashed right up under the roof of the Burrow, where he and his family lived, fuming. It just – wasn't – FAIR! And considering his rather lowered standards as to what constituted fair in his short life, it is pretty certain his circumstances were far more than just unfair, but Ron was not usually given to complaints.

This, however, involved a small – though cuddly – plain brown teddy bear by the auspicious name of Mr. Tig.

The gifting of Mr. Tig hadn't been elaborate at all; it had arrived in a plainly wrapped package fastened to a Hogwarts school owl – a snooty creature with the number twenty-two attached to a small tag on its leg – late in the afternoon on Christmas day a little over three months ago. Charlie hadn't returned to the Burrow for Christmas, but inside the package Ron had found the little teddy bear, the kind that popped out of expensive magical Christmas crackers, with what he recognised as his and Charlie's names and a brightly drawn present on a note.

It had been the first thing Ron ever owned that was solely his, and didn't belong to anybody before him. He'd christened it Mr. Tig.

Ron treasure Mr. Tig, carried the bear with him nearly everywhere; which was the reason behind Ron's current bad temper.

Usually the twins used their pranks to torment Percy, or to making Ginny laugh, or attempting to get one over on Molly Weasley, their mother – which they had yet to do, but perfection was to be strived for – and kept their sights off their younger brother. This state of affairs had always suited Ron before, who – though lonely – enjoyed watching his family interact as though he had been peering into their world as though from the outside of a fishbowl.

He had recognised the devilish look on their faces, though their target had taken him by surprise, having never been a victim himself; though he might have expected it sooner or later. Thankfully he had taken steps to remove himself from the situation, and so when Mr. Tig had transformed into a rather large and scary-looking spider he hadn't been holding him. But it had made Ginny cry, and Percy shout for their mother in glee, and Molly Weasley had turned red with anger and undone the transformation and proceeded to alternate between yelling at her errant sons and comforting her distraught daughter.

The distraction had served Ron well as he liberated both Mr. Tig and something else he would find rather useful from the situation. Later, when Arthur Weasley returned home, the twins were sentenced to three weeks grounding (completing all the house-hold chores during that time) for using and losing Great-Uncle Fabien's wand. Although there was nothing that could get them off on the first charge, they vehemently denied the second, but Great-Uncle Fabien's wand was gone, and was never found.

And though the prank completely misfired, and the twins rather severely punished, Ron did not feel inclined to forgive them any time soon, and was not looking forward to repeat performances. Perhaps it would be better if he found somewhere else to spend his days, working on his reading… somewhere outside where he couldn't be targeted.

It would also give him somewhere private to experiment with his newest acquisition. Ron's hand tightened around Great-Uncle Fabien's wand; after all, he couldn't be caught using it…

Harry, Age not-quite-4

Harry held his burnt hand under the faucet that gushed cold water, rather thankful that Aunt Petunia had recently deemed him a competent enough cook to leave him unsupervised. Usually he was very careful when cooking his family's dinner, but he was not quite four, and as such had a not-quite-four-year-olds hands, which weren't really suited for the labour he now endeavoured to achieve – and so he had accidentally burned himself on the pan. If Aunt Petunia had been "supervising" she wouldn't have let him treat the burn until he'd finished, and according to a first aid book he'd read in the local library, it was important to get the heat out of a burn as soon as possible.

When Harry had left the food as long as he dared, he turned off the water and went about serving the Dursleys their dinner. He himself wouldn't touch any of the food he'd worked so hard to prepare; lest he should be slapped across the face by Aunt Petunia for being greedy or bashed over the head by his uncles meaty fist (or whatever hard, unbreakable object Vernon found close at hand) for being ungrateful. Instead, he snuck a few slices of bread into his pocket, along with a few shavings of meat he'd procured from the bone that the Dursleys were saving to send to Aunt Marge's pets (Vernon's sister raised dogs).

Harry might have suffered far more injuries than he did if he didn't disappear everyday to the only safe place for him in his world – the library. There he read; all day, everyday. When he had finished what books had interested him for his age group, he moved onto other books; books that spoke of the world outside of Privet Drive and Surrey, outside of London and even Britain. He learned about other cultures and geography, he learned about the history of the world, he learned about mathematics (something that was easy for him to understand, considering his first love of music), he learned all about the English language and how to tell apart verbs from nouns, and all other sorts of useful and interesting things.

The last book he'd picked up was all about the history of British law; the origins of it and how parliament worked and how it had evolved from the feudal system to what ruled today. It made mention of something Harry felt he had to look up for himself: child laws. Specifically, the laws dealing with how a guardian should treat a child under their care. Having found a reference to the particular law he wanted to look at, Harry proceeded to find said reference, a law dictionary and an oxford dictionary. What followed was a period of enlightenment to Harry. Having the vaguest recollection of what life had been like for him before he lived with the Dursleys, it hadn't been a life-shattering discovery; but it had been hard for him to swallow, especially given the lessons being drilled into him day in and day out.

Vernon Dursley was wrong.

Petunia Dursley was wrong.

And the hardest of all to come to grips with:

Harry was being abused.

And it was wrong.

A/N: Hermione's school found by googling "exclusive school in Oxford uk" and her book excerpt found on google after typing in "chi energy". I don't actually know anything about either, myself. Yes, I'm very uncultured. Also my research is obviously very detailed. I point out my sarcasm.

Ron - can't you just see Percy calling for his mum in satisfaction, knowing how much trouble the twins will be in for making precious little Ginny cry?