Two weeks had passed, and the day had finally arrived for Harry to return to Hogwarts for his second year. But as Harry stood near the entrance of Platform 9¾, he couldn't help but recall the heated confrontation he'd had with Aunt Petunia the morning she drove him to King's Cross.
---
It had started with her usual complaints. As Harry had walked into the kitchen, suitcase in hand, Aunt Petunia was wiping down the spotless counter with sharp, angry movements.
"I don't know why I have to be the one to drag you to that blasted station every year," she muttered, her voice biting. "It's not like it's my responsibility. Vernon has important work to do, you know. Not that you'd understand."
Harry clenched his fists, the familiar anger bubbling beneath the surface. He couldn't help himself this time. "You're doing it because I pay you to, remember? Every month, I give you my money, my money from my world. The least you could do is drive me to the train station without complaining."
Petunia froze, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the dishcloth. "Your world," she repeated, her voice trembling with suppressed fury. She turned to glare at him, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Don't you dare think you have some kind of hold over this family. Vernon and I provide a roof over your head—"
Harry cut her off, his voice rising. "A roof I never asked for! You didn't take me in because you wanted to. You did it because you had no choice. And don't act like you're doing me a favor. You've made my life miserable every single day since I got here."
Petunia's face twisted, her thin lips pressing together in a harsh line. "How dare you speak to me like that? After all we've done for you—"
"All you've done for me?" Harry snapped. "You've treated me like dirt! My mum—your sister—died saving me, and you can't even drive me to the train station without whining! I bet your parents never treated her like this. I bet they didn't call her a freak or blame her for things she couldn't control."
The words spilled out before Harry could stop them. He saw Petunia's expression shift, her anger flaring into something darker, almost unhinged.
"Don't you dare talk about my parents!" she shrieked, her voice breaking. "You know nothing about them, or about me! Your mother—" She cut herself off, trembling with fury.
Harry stared at her, the sudden silence between them heavy and oppressive. For the first time, he realized just how little he knew about his aunt—about her life before he was dropped on her doorstep. Petunia had always been an enigma, a wall of bitterness and resentment, but now there was something raw in her anger, something Harry couldn't quite place.
"Fine," he muttered, his voice quieter now, though still laced with anger. "I don't know anything about them. But that's not my fault. It's not like you've ever bothered to tell me anything about them—or about my mum."
Petunia's jaw tightened, but she didn't respond. Instead, she spun on her heel and stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.
---
He had packed all his things, carefully hiding Asha and Kavi under his clothes, and held Hedwig's cage firmly in his hand. His uncle Vernon, though grumbling along with Petunia and Dudley, had agreed to drive him to the station—mostly because Harry had offered to pay for the trip.
As they drove towards King's Cross, the tension in the car was palpable. Vernon's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and every now and then, Dudley would glare at Harry from the back seat, his small piggish eyes narrowed. Petunia sat rigidly, as if the mere act of driving Harry to the station was an unbearable offense.
When they finally arrived, Vernon pulled over sharply, his patience clearly at its end. "Get out quickly, boy," he muttered, his voice low and irritated. "Don't make us wait around for your nonsense."
Harry glanced at him, feeling a flicker of annoyance but not willing to start a fight. "I'm not asking you to," he replied coolly as he opened the door and stepped out, grabbing his luggage from the boot. Hedwig hooted softly from her cage as Harry tucked it under his arm.
Petunia, however, had something to add. "Make sure you don't cause trouble this year, Harry. We don't want any more of your kind bothering us."
Harry turned back to her, his gaze steady. "I'll be out of your hair for another year," he said, his tone cold but even. "That should make you happy, shouldn't it?"
Dudley gave a snort of laughter from the back seat. "Yeah, Mum. He's off to his freak school again."
Harry shot Dudley a sharp look. "Watch it," he said quietly. "Just because I'm leaving doesn't mean I can't still hex you before I go."
At that, Dudley shrunk back slightly, a hint of fear flickering in his eyes. Petunia pursed her lips but said nothing more. Vernon tapped the steering wheel impatiently. "Get a move on, boy," he grumbled again. "We don't have all day."
Harry grabbed his trunk and turned on his heel, ready to disappear into the bustling crowd at King's Cross. He didn't say goodbye. As far as he was concerned, they were part of a life he was leaving behind the moment he stepped through the barrier to Platform 9¾. He quickly slipped into the station, already eager to reunite with his friends and return to the world where he truly belonged.
Harry stared at the wall, confusion knotting his brows. He pushed his trolley again, harder this time, but it was no use—the barrier remained solid, utterly non-magical. His mind raced. This wasn't supposed to happen. Was it?
He was just about to try again when he heard a familiar voice call out behind him.
"Harry! There you are!" Hermione's voice rang with a mix of relief and excitement. She rushed over, her hair bouncing as she moved. "I've been looking for you everywhere! I was getting worried when I didn't see any of our group."
Harry turned, grateful for her presence, but his face still reflected the confusion and frustration that was building inside him. "I don't know what's going on, Hermione. The barrier won't let me through. It's like... it's not working."
Hermione's eyebrows shot up in concern, and she instinctively placed a hand on Harry's trolley, as if expecting it to move through the wall with her touch. "That's strange. It should be open by now... Did you try everything?"
Harry nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I've tried pushing it gently, harder, even at a run. Nothing. It's like the portal doesn't want to work for me."
Hermione frowned deeply, clearly worried now. "We should've messaged each other beforehand to figure out where to meet up. But this... this is odd." She paused, glancing at the barrier. "Could it be a security thing? Maybe something's wrong with the portal?"
Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair, feeling more anxious than he wanted to admit. "I don't know. It's just... I can't be late. It'll look bad."
Hermione pursed her lips, deep in thought. "Well, let's not panic just yet. There's got to be a reason. We'll figure this out, Harry. Maybe there's another way through?"
Harry nodded, trying to steady his nerves. He trusted Hermione's sharp mind and determination. If anyone could help figure this out, it was her. But in the back of his mind, a sense of dread lingered. What if this wasn't just a malfunction?
"Why won't it open?" Hermione muttered, more to herself than anyone else. She looked around nervously. "It worked every other year."
Harry ran his hand along the brick wall, confusion in his eyes. "It's like it's completely sealed... This has never happened before."
Just then, Hermione's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, approached them, concerned looks on their faces.
"Is everything alright?" Mrs. Granger asked, noticing the anxious expressions on both Hermione and Harry.
Hermione sighed and explained, "The wall to the platform—it's... closed. Harry and I can't get through. We've tried multiple times, but nothing works."
Mr. Granger furrowed his brow. "Does this happen often? Is there another way through?"
Hermione shook her head. "Not like this, no. And I don't know of another way."
Mrs. Granger gave a reassuring smile, trying to ease their worry. "Don't worry, love. There's always a solution. We'll figure something out."
Mr. Granger thought for a moment before suggesting, "What about that inn you stayed at before, The Leaky Cauldron, was it? Maybe from there, you can contact one of your professors or someone from the magical world. They'll know how to help."
Hermione blinked and nodded, grateful for the practical suggestion. "That's a good idea, Dad. We can floo from there or maybe someone from the Ministry can help us travel."
Harry chimed in, "Yeah, it could work. I'm sure someone at The Leaky Cauldron could help us figure this out."
Hermione smiled , her own tension easing a bit. "Alright, let's head to The Leaky Cauldron. We should be able to find help there."
Mrs. Granger gently squeezed Hermione's arm. "Don't worry, sweetheart. We'll take you there. Everything will be fine."
With that, the group headed out of the station, determined to find their way to Hogwarts, even if it meant taking a detour through the heart of magical London.
Thirty minutes later, they all arrived at the inn. Hermione's mother was the first to speak, looking a bit flustered. " Mister Tom," she called to the innkeeper, "could you please help us? We need someone to assist with… well, it's a bit complicated. Our children were unable to take the train to Hogwarts, and we are wondering if it is possible for you to send a letter so that someone can be sent to help us find a solution for them to get to school?""
Tom, the burly innkeeper, nodded as he wiped his hands on his apron. "Of course, Mrs.I'll send a letter to the headmaster right away to ask for a professor's assistance. In the meantime, why don't you all sit down and relax?"
"Thank you, mister Tom," Hermione's mother replied, visibly relieved.
As they settled into their seats, Harry couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and anxiety about what was to come. 50 minutes after the door swung open with a loud creak, and Professor Snape entered the inn, his presence darkening the already dim atmosphere.
"Ah, Potter, Granger," he said, his voice as sharp as ever, barely glancing at Hermione's parents. "Come with me. We don't have time to waste."
Hermione exchanged a quick look with Harry, and they both stood up. "bay , Mum!" she called over her shoulder as they followed Snape toward the exit.
"Be careful, Hermione!" her mother replied, her tone laced with concern.
"Don't worry, Mrs. Granger. We'll be fine," Harry assured her with a small smile before he and Hermione hurried to catch up with Snape.
As Harry and Hermione stood in front of the fireplace, Professor Snape approached them with a small pouch of Floo powder in hand. He eyed the two Ravenclaws sharply.
"Have you two ever used the Floo network for transportation?" he asked, his voice laced with impatience.
"No, sir," they both replied in unison, Hermione's eyes widening slightly.
Snape sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Take some powder and say your destination clearly. You need to say 'Dumbledore's office, Hogwarts' before you step through the flames."
Harry took a pinch of the green powder from Snape's hand, feeling its cool texture. He glanced at Hermione, who nodded, looking equally nervous but determined.
"Do you understand?" Snape added, his voice firm. "I won't explain again if you don't grasp it."
"Yes, sir," they replied.
"Good. Granger, you go first," he commanded.
"Right," Hermione said, her voice slightly shaky. She took a deep breath, tossed the powder into the fire, and stepped in. "Dumbledore's office, Hogwarts!" she called out, her voice filled with determination.
Harry watched as she disappeared in a swirl of green flames. He felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension. What if something went wrong?
"Your turn, Potter," Snape snapped, pulling Harry from his thoughts.
"Okay," Harry replied, shaking off his nerves. He followed suit, tossing the powder into the flames. "Dumbledore's office, Hogwarts!" he shouted.
In an instant, he felt himself being pulled through the fire, the world around him spinning in a whirlwind of color and heat. Just as quickly, he found himself standing in Dumbledore's office, blinking against the bright light.
Moments later, Snape stepped through the flames behind him, his expression unreadable.
As Harry and Hermione arrived at Dumbledore's office, the old man sat behind his desk with that infuriating grandfatherly smile that Harry had come to despise. He suppressed his feelings, knowing that Aunt Petunia's hypocrisy had prepared him for this moment.
"Thank you, Severus, for bringing Harry and Hermione back to school safely," Dumbledore said, glancing at Snape, who merely nodded and exited the room without a word.
Harry and Hermione turned to leave as well, but Dumbledore's voice halted Harry in his tracks.
"Harry, I need to speak with you privately," he said, his tone firm yet oddly sorrowful.
Hermione instinctively moved closer to Harry, her brow furrowed in concern.
"But, Professor—"
"It's quite all right, Hermione," Dumbledore interrupted gently. "You should join your classmates in the Great Hall. I assure you, this won't take long."
She hesitated, looking back at Harry. "Are you sure it's okay, Harry?" she asked, her voice low and anxious.
"It's fine, Hermione," Harry reassured her, trying to inject calm into the situation. "I'll catch up with you in a minute."
Reluctantly, she nodded, casting a worried glance at Dumbledore before exiting the office.
Dumbledore gestured for Harry to sit, then leaned back in his chair, his expression somber. "I have received a message from the goblins regarding the Potter family vault," he began, his eyes piercing into Harry's. "I must admit, I'm quite disappointed that you felt the need to contact them directly. You could have come to me."
"Honestly, I prefer handling matters of inheritance with professionals," Harry replied, his tone diplomatic yet firm. "I don't trust anyone here, especially not when it comes to my family's legacy."
Dumbledore sighed, his face clouded with sadness. "Harry, it's disheartening to see you regard me as just another stranger."
A forced smile flashed across Dumbledore's face. "Here, take this," he said, reaching under his desk. "Your family cloak—your father lent it to me long ago. I had hoped to give it to you on your eleventh birthday, but I thought it more fitting to hand it to you now."
Harry accepted the neatly wrapped cloak, feeling the weight of its history. "Thanks, I suppose." He glanced up at Dumbledore, searching for sincerity.
"I hope this brings us closer, Harry," Dumbledore continued, his voice almost pleading.
"But you do realize we still have unfinished business, right?" harry add not care about what Dumbledore said
"Business?" Dumbledore's tone was innocent, but his eyes betrayed him.
"Yeah, the Potter books. You've been holding onto those for far too long. I want them back."
Dumbledore sighed, a sound laced with irritation. "You'll receive them when the time is right, Harry. Remember that."
"If you don't want to be bothered by goblins, you'd better return everything that belongs to the Potters before winter break," Harry replied, the resolve in his voice steady as he gathered his belongings.
With that, Harry turned on his heel, grabbing his belongings and slamming the door behind him. Dumbledore called after him, "Harry—"
"Goodbye, Professor." With that, Harry shut the door firmly behind him, a mix of relief and determination flooding through him.
As Harry stepped out, he spotted Hermione waiting for him. He smiled and approached her. "Hey, Hermione! Didn't Dumbledore tell you to go the Great Hall?"
Hermione huffed slightly, adjusting the heavy bags slung over her shoulder. " yes, but then I thought, why not wait for you instead? Plus, it's a bit chaotic in there."
Harry chuckled. "I can imagine! Looks like you brought half the library with you. What's with all the luggage?"
"Oh, these are just my school supplies," she replied, rolling her eyes playfully. "And look!" She carefully shifted one of the bags to reveal a small, cozy cage. "I've named my owl Méry! Isn't she adorable?"
Harry leaned closer, peering into the cage. "Méry? That's a cute name! She looks quite regal."
"Thank you!" Hermione beamed with pride. "I thought it suited her. What do you think, Méry?" She gently stroked the owl's feathers, and it hooted softly in response.
"Looks like she likes it!" Harry grinned. "Are you ready to meet up with Neville and Theo? They're probably waiting for us."
"Absolutely!" Hermione adjusted her bags once more. "Let's go find them."
Harry and Hermione made their way to the Great Hall together, the chatter of the other students buzzing around them. The first years had already been sorted, and Harry noticed the familiar excitement on their faces as they adjusted to their new houses. He and Hermione found seats next to each other at the Ravenclaw table, joining their friends.
As they sat down, Terry Boot, one of their fellow Ravenclaws, smiled at them. "You two are late! Breakfast is nearly over."
Harry shrugged with a grin. ""We had a transportation issue."
Hermione nodded, laughing lightly. "yes ,but we are here ."
They started eating, catching up with their housemates. The breakfast spread was laid out, and Harry filled his plate with toast, eggs, and sausages while Hermione opted for some fruit and porridge.
"You know," Hermione began as they ate, "I've been thinking our classes for this year. I'm excited about charms for this next year, but also a bit nervous."
"I'm sure you'll ace it," Harry said between bites, casting a glance around the hall. "I've heard it's a lot of work, but nothing you can't handle."
After finishing their meal, Harry and Hermione headed back towards the Ravenclaw tower. As they walked up the stairs, Harry glanced at her. "I think this year's going to be a bit different. I've got a feeling."
Hermione smiled softly. "It always is with us."
Once inside the tower, they parted ways. "I'll see you later, Harry," Hermione said as she walked towards the girls' dormitory.
"See you," he replied, heading towards the boys' dormitory.
Upon entering the room, Harry found his old roommates from the previous year already settled in. Anthony Goldstein was lying on his bed, flipping through a book, while Michael Corner was organizing his things at the foot of his bed. Terry Boot was adjusting a poster on the wall by his own bed, humming softly to himself.
"Hey, Harry," Anthony greeted him with a nod. "Nice to see you back."
"Yeah, you too," Harry replied, choosing the bed closest to the door. He began unpacking his belongings, placing his books neatly on the bedside table and hanging up his robes in the wardrobe.
Michael looked up from his trunk and grinned. "Still got the same roommates, huh? Guess we're stuck together for another year."
Harry chuckled. "Looks like it."
As he sorted his things, he felt a sense of comfort settle over him. The familiar sights and sounds of the dormitory, the quiet camaraderie of his roommates, it all felt like home. Even after everything he had experienced in his first year, there was something reassuring about returning to these simple routines.
"So, what do you think this year's going to be like?" Terry asked from across the room, finally finishing with his poster.
Harry shrugged. "Hopefully with a good professeur in Defence Against the Dark Arts ."
The boys laughed, and Michael added, "Yeah, but where's the fun in that?"
Harry smiled to himself, appreciating the normalcy of the moment as he continued to organize his belongings. The day was just beginning, and even though the year held uncertainties, he felt a small spark of excitement for whatever was to come.
The first day of second-year classes started off quite normally for Harry. The schedule was similar to the previous year, with slightly more advanced material, and most of the professors were the same. However, to Harry's great disappointment, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had changed to none other than Gilderoy Lockhart.
Lockhart had already forced Harry to take a photo with him earlier in the summer, under the pretense that both of them were famous, though Harry had quickly put him in his place. In class, the professor was just as unbearable—constantly talking about his own adventures, his books, his beauty, and basically, himself. Many of the girls, and even a few boys, seemed to fall under his charm. Luckily for Harry, Hermione was not one of them, as she had been present when Harry had stood up to him a few weeks prior. She, too, looked disgusted by Lockhart's arrogance.
Even Ron Weasley was less bothered by Lockhart's fame than he had been the previous year, having apologized to Harry for his attitude in their first year. As Harry glanced over at Ron, the redhead was making a face of pure revulsion toward the professor. It made Harry chuckle quietly to himself.
Lockhart, as expected, continued to drone on about his supposed heroic feats. Midway through the class, he dramatically waved a copy of one of his books and declared, "Now, I know you're all excited to learn how I defeated the Wagga Wagga Werewolf, but first, a quiz!"
Harry glanced at Hermione, who was rolling her eyes. He stifled a laugh. "I can't believe we have to deal with him all year," Harry muttered under his breath.
Hermione leaned over, whispering, "This is going to be torture."
The entire class seemed focused on the professor, who was talking endlessly about himself. As Harry listened, he couldn't help but think the man might actually be in love with his own reflection. "Is it even possible for someone to be that self-absorbed?" Harry wondered, suppressing a smirk.
Thankfully, Merlin must've been listening to Harry's silent pleas because the class finally ended. Harry and Hermione quickly gathered their things, eager to escape, but they were stopped just outside the door by Ron.
Looking a little sheepish, Ron smiled at them. "Er... Hermione," he began, scratching the back of his head, "I don't know if you know, but I already apologized to Harry for being, well, a complete idiot last year. But I wanted to say sorry to you too... for calling you a know-it-all. I know you were just trying to help, and I was a bit of a prat."
Hermione gave him a warm smile, clearly touched by the gesture. "Thank you, Ron. I appreciate that. And I forgive you," she replied, her voice soft but sincere. "I think I could've been a little more patient myself, instead of trying to force everyone to learn things my way."
Ron looked visibly relieved. "Well, I'm glad. See you both later," he said, giving them a small wave as he headed off to his next class.
Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance, smiling, before continuing on to their own class, the tension between the trio finally seeming to ease.
A few days have passed since the start of the school year, and Harry Potter is sitting with his friends—Neville, Hermione, and Theo—in the Hogwarts library. The atmosphere is calm, the soft sound of turning pages surrounding them. Harry had been quietly reading when a familiar owl arrived, carrying a letter from his Aunt Petunia. His friends watched as he reached for the envelope, curious about the contents.
The envelope felt heavy in his hands, and as he opened it, several papers slipped out. Along with his results, there was a registration form for his 8th year in the Muggle system. The most unsettling part was a small, terse note from Petunia, folded neatly within the results.
---
Harry's Exam Results:
English: 85%
Math: 78%
Science: 80%
History: 75%
Physical Education: 88%
Art: 82%
Total GPA: 81.3%
Harry had passed all his Muggle subjects with solid marks, good enough to move on to the next year.harry open pétunia's lettre and read it she said
----
Harry,
I've done my part of the deal, as agreed. Enclosed are your results and the registration form for your 8th year. I'll send the textbooks for the new year when they arrive.
You'd better not forget your side of the bargain—payment for my services, as we discussed. Make sure you don't fall behind on that.
Petunia Dursley
---
Harry sighed, folding the papers and tucking them back into the envelope. His friends exchanged glances, unsure of what to say, but Hermione leaned in with concern. "Harry, are you okay?"
Harry looked up from the envelope, smiling slightly. "I'm fine, Hermione. I just got my Muggle school results. Even with only a few weeks of revision, I managed to get some decent grades."
Hermione's face went white as she leaned in closer, clearly shocked. "Wait, what? You've been... doing Muggle school on top of Hogwarts? How is that even possible?" Her voice was a mixture of disbelief and frustration.
Harry shrugged, his tone calm. "There's nothing stopping me from doing both. I signed up as an independent candidate. It's not like the Ministry cares about Muggle education, so I figured why not? I wanted to keep my options open."
Hermione's expression quickly shifted from shock to something like anger mixed with sadness. She clenched her fists. "Harry, I had to drop out of Muggle school when I came to Hogwarts. I didn't even know it was possible to do both!" Her voice wavered, and tears formed in her eyes. "If I'd known…"
Harry reached out, his voice soft but steady. "It's not too late, Hermione. You could write to your parents, have them enroll you again. I only signed up this summer to take the exams, and you're brilliant. You could easily catch up."
Hermione didn't waste a second. She pulled out a piece of parchment, her hands moving quickly as she began writing a letter to her parents, determination in her eyes.
Meanwhile, Theo, who had been silently observing, finally spoke. "Why did you do both, Harry? What's the point of juggling Muggle school when you're already at Hogwarts?"
Harry leaned back in his chair, sighing. "I enjoy learning, Theo. And I don't see why being a wizard should stop me from finishing my Muggle studies. It's not like either world is exactly welcoming. The magical world judges me because my mum was a Muggle-born, and the Muggle world... well, they judge me because I'm not white enough for them."
Theo nodded slowly, absorbing Harry's words. There was a heavy silence for a moment, broken only by the scratching of Hermione's quill.
Theo's eyes narrowed slightly as he asked, "So, Zabini, do you have two strategies yourself?"
Blaise smirked, shaking his head casually. "No, but unlike the idiots in our world, I know the Muggle world as well as the magical one. It's just this dear old Britain that's so obsessed with blood purity," he said, a hint of disdain in his voice.
Harry recognized the familiar tone. Blaise had said something similar once before when his mother had come to do business with Harry's uncle. It was a well-rehearsed argument, but Harry decided to keep his thoughts to himself, choosing not to engage in that part of the conversation.
Instead, Harry continued, looking thoughtful. "Studying both the Muggle and magical worlds will help me become a better healer. I've noticed that most of the medical textbooks we use focus on pureblood wizards. They barely mention Muggle diseases, even though half-bloods and Muggle-borns can still catch them. And I didn't even get my magical vaccines until late because we didn't know about this world. I got them thanks to the goblins, actually."
Hermione, who had just finished sealing her letter to her parents, turned even paler. Her hand trembled as she looked up at Harry. "Wait… vaccines? I've never been vaccinated for magical illnesses. No one ever told me there were diseases only wizards could catch."
Her voice was shaky, and her eyes wide with worry. Harry frowned slightly, realizing that he had just dropped a heavy piece of information without meaning to.
"You weren't informed?" Harry asked, surprised. "Most purebloods get vaccinated as kids, but for Muggle-borns… it's not like there's much information shared between the two worlds."
Hermione's eyes darted to Theo and Blaise, panic evident on her face. "What do we do now? If I've never had any of those vaccines…"
Theo, still silent, exchanged a look with Harry. The room suddenly felt much heavier as the realization settled in: the divide between the magical and Muggle worlds was even greater than they'd thought. Blaise, usually indifferent to other people's problems, folded his arms and gave Hermione a long, considering look.
"Then you need to get those vaccines sorted out soon, Granger. The last thing you want is to be taken down by something easily preventable," he said with a sigh, as if it was just another minor inconvenience in a long list of things that needed fixing.
Hermione swallowed hard, clutching her letter tightly. "I'll write to my parents about that too. This is… it's insane that no one told us."
Neville, quiet up until now, finally spoke. "It's a good thing we're talking about this now. Better to find out sooner than later."
The group nodded in agreement, though the weight of their new knowledge hung over them like a storm cloud.
Hermione looked up from her letter, her face a mix of concern and determination. "If I didn't know about this, then the other Muggle-born students probably don't know either." Her voice trembled slightly, as if the weight of this realization was too much to bear.
Theo leaned forward, folding his arms across the table. "Yeah, you're probably right," he said with a sigh. "If you didn't know, it's likely most of the Muggle-borns are in the same boat."
Blaise added in a quieter tone, his usual confidence softened. "And that's a pretty dangerous boat to be in."
Hermione's brows furrowed in frustration. "Why didn't anyone at Hogwarts tell us? I mean, surely they should've explained things like this when we started."
Harry nodded, understanding her frustration.
"Hogwarts tries so hard to make sure that Muggle-borns and half-bloods are treated equally with pure-bloods that they forget something important. We didn't get the same magical education growing up."
Hermione looked up at him, her worry now mixed with understanding. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice quieter but sharper.
Harry continued, a touch of frustration creeping into his voice. "They lump us all together, pretending that we're on the same level when we start, but the truth is, pure-bloods already know so much about magic before they even set foot here. They've grown up in it, with families who know about magical illnesses, spells, potions… all of it. We didn't have any of that."
Hermione let out a small, frustrated sigh. "I guess I always thought it was just about learning the spells and theories, but… it's more than that. It's the whole magical world we weren't part of." She looked down at the table, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of her parchment. "How are we supposed to catch up on things we didn't even know we were missing?"
Harry shrugged, a sad smile tugging at his lips. "That's why I kept up with Muggle studies too. I figured, if the magical world isn't going to fill in those gaps, I might as well cover all my bases. There's no reason we can't do both."
Hermione's eyes softened as she nodded, more determined now. "You're right. I'm going to make sure I don't fall behind in either world."
Theo glanced around the table. "Looks like we've all got more work to do than we thought."
Harry glanced at Theo, Neville, and Blaise, his gaze thoughtful. "You three are all pure-bloods," he said, breaking the silence again. "So, what did you learn about magic growing up? How did you learn it?"
The three of them exchanged quick glances, as if the answer was obvious. Theo spoke up first. "We all had magical tutors. Private instructors who taught us the basics of magic from the time we were four."
Neville nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Gran made sure I had lessons. I struggled a bit at first, but by the time I came to Hogwarts, I knew the basics."
Blaise, who had been quiet, added with a shrug, "Same here. Tutors taught me everything—charms, potions, basic spells—before I even picked up a wand."
Harry sighed softly, shaking his head. "That's like the equivalent of primary school in the Muggle world." He glanced over at Hermione, who was already nodding in agreement.
"Exactly," Hermione said, her voice thoughtful. "In the Muggle world, primary school is where you learn to read, write, do basic math—stuff that's crucial before you go on to secondary school. It's the foundation."
Theo frowned slightly, curious. "What's this 'primary school' you're talking about? We didn't have anything like that."
Neville looked equally confused. "Yeah, what's it like? You both keep bringing it up."
Hermione smiled, leaning forward to explain. "Primary school is where kids go from ages five to eleven. We learn all the basics—like reading, writing, history, math. It's where we get our first real education. Then we move on to secondary school, which is like Hogwarts but for Muggles, without the magic."
Theo's brows furrowed, and he exchanged a glance with Neville. "Huh. So it's like a structured, mandatory education for everyone?"
Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly! Everyone has to go, and it's how we learn about the world and develop basic skills before we specialize in anything."
Blaise, who had been listening quietly, suddenly spoke up. "I've heard of it. My mother used to do business with Muggles, so I picked up on a few things. It's not too different from how we're taught before Hogwarts, just without all the spells."
Harry smiled, though there was a hint of sadness in his expression. "Right. But for us Muggle-borns and half-bloods, we didn't get that magical foundation. We started Hogwarts without knowing the basics you all had already learned."
Theo, Blaise, and Neville exchanged looks, finally understanding the gap that had been there all along.
The discussion had shifted into a realm of possibilities as the group imagined a magical world with true equity in education. Hermione's eyes gleamed with excitement, while Harry leaned back, contemplating the significance of such changes. However, the calm moment was soon interrupted by the unmistakable sneer of Draco Malfoy, flanked by Pansy Parkinson and his usual entourage. The mood in the library shifted, tension creeping back into the air.
Hermione's eyes lit up with an idea. "It would be wonderful if we had a magical primary school, wouldn't it? A place where everyone, no matter their background, could learn the basics of magic."
Harry nodded, sitting up straighter. "Yeah, and it would be even better if they included both Muggle and magical studies. That way, every witch and wizard would be prepared for both worlds. Then we'd really have true equality."
Just as he finished speaking, a familiar drawling voice interrupted. "Equality? Honestly, Potter, you and Granger are delusional if you think Muggle methods have anything useful to offer us."
Draco Malfoy stepped into view, his signature smirk in place, with Pansy Parkinson at his side, and his usual followers—Crabbe and Goyle—lurking behind him. Pansy's expression was calculating, her eyes narrowing as she focused on Hermione.
"And why, Granger," Pansy asked, her voice dripping with condescension, "should witches and wizards even bother learning about the Muggle world? What could possibly be so advanced about their little gadgets and ridiculous non-magical ways?"
Hermione, undeterred by Pansy's tone, met her gaze squarely. "For starters, the Muggle world has made incredible advancements in medicine. Things like vaccines and surgical techniques that save millions of lives, both Muggle and magical alike. Even wizards could benefit from understanding these advances."
Pansy scoffed, but Hermione pressed on. "Muggles have also developed technology that allows them to communicate instantly across the world, travel faster, and even explore space. Meanwhile, wizards still rely on owls for messages, and many can't even drive."
Harry added, "And let's not forget about Muggle sciences—chemistry, physics, biology—these could open up new ways of understanding magic and how it interacts with the natural world."
Draco crossed his arms, sneering at the group. "What's the point of all that when we have magic? You don't need Muggle nonsense when a simple spell can do the job in seconds."
Hermione shook her head. "That's the problem, Draco. You're so quick to dismiss it because you don't know anything about it. There's so much more to the world than just magic. If wizards learned from Muggles too, we'd be stronger as a whole."
Pansy raised an eyebrow, her expression still calculating. "So, what you're saying is… wizards should lower themselves to learn from people who don't even know we exist? Sounds like a waste of time to me."
Neville, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up, surprising the group. "It's not lowering ourselves. It's making sure we're not ignorant. If we ignore what Muggles have accomplished, we're the ones falling behind."
Draco scowled, clearly displeased with the direction of the conversation. "Whatever. Keep playing at your little fantasies, Granger. Just don't expect the rest of us to care about what a bunch of Muggles think."
With that, Draco turned on his heel, motioning for his entourage to follow, though Pansy lingered for a moment longer, casting one last curious glance at Hermione before walking away.
The group sat in silence for a moment after Draco and his gang left, a renewed sense of purpose in their hearts despite the hostility they had just faced.
The library settled back into quiet after Draco and the others left. Hermione stood up, determined, and said, "I'm going to the Owlery to send this letter to my parents." She grabbed her parchment and walked off with purpose, her steps quick as she disappeared down one of the library aisles.
Blaise gave them a quick nod before heading back to his own table, leaving Harry, Neville, and Theo to continue their studying in silence. A few minutes passed, the only sound being the soft rustle of pages turning and the scratching of quills on parchment.
Suddenly, Theo leaned closer to Harry and whispered, "You were amazing back there."
Harry, caught off guard, felt his cheeks flush with warmth. He tried to focus on his book, but Theo's smirk was impossible to ignore. Theo, clearly amused by Harry's reaction, gave him a teasing, smug grin before going back to his notes.
Harry's initial instinct was to playfully hit Theo for always teasing him, but he thought better of it and decided to get back to his homework instead, the faint blush still lingering on his face.