Disclaimer:
Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
I own nothing but the original characters I make.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 20: Commoners and Rules
The next few days began to settle into an uneasy rhythm.
Harry attended his classes, took notes, and kept his head down. He ate meals with Draco, Pansy, and Crabbe in the Great Hall, avoiding the Gryffindor table where Ron Weasley held court with his two shady companions.
He studied in the Slytherin common room, and the green glow of the lake pressing against the windows was starting to feel cozy to him.
And every night, after the lights dimmed, he would write something in his diary.
"Draco told me about the war. According to the official story, a Dark Lord tried to take control of the Ministry of Magic, and Dumbledore stopped him in a heroic duel.
But I don't believe it. By the way Draco spoke of it, I am sure that even he suspects this is just misinformation."
"I checked the library today. Every history book skips most events from 1969 to 1982. There is pretty much a decade missing. Pages torn out or chapters replaced with Ministry-approved summaries that say nothing."
"Something happened. Something Dumbledore doesn't want anyone to know."
He had also begun his translation work in secret. During free periods, he slipped into the far corner of the library, where the dictionaries and archaic texts were kept. He carried A Treatise on Magical Cores wrapped in a brown paper cover, pretending it was a supplementary textbook. The old English was slow going, but he was making progress.
He estimated to have it fully translated before Christmas.
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Thursday brought the first flying lesson.
The notice had appeared on the Slytherin common room board the night before: Flying Instruction with Madam Hooch. Meet on the lawns at two o'clock. Equipment will be provided.
Harry had been looking forward to it. In the books, flying had come naturally to Harry Potter, almost like an instinct. He hoped the same would be true for him because the idea of flying freely through the sky was extremely appealing.
The lawns behind the castle were wide and flat, bordered by the dark line of the Forbidden Forest that could be seen in the distance.
The sky was slightly overcast, a few groups of grey clouds covered part of the sunlight, but it was still bright enough.
When they arrived, they found a row of broomsticks lying on the grass, waiting for them. All of them appear to be old and worn out, with their twigs sticking out at odd angles.
The students began to gather. The Slytherins first-years went to one side and the Ravenclaws to the other.
Harry was glad to find they were not having the class with the Gryfindors at least. So he didn't have to worry about Ron trying to pick a fight with him while he was trying to learn how to fly.
He spotted Draco, Pansy, and Crabbe near the front and made his way over to them.
"Nervous?" Draco asked.
"A little," Harry admitted.
"Don't be. My father says flying is about confidence. If you hesitate, the broom won't listen."
"I'll keep that in mind, " Harry nodded, though he wasn't sure confidence alone would be enough.
Then he saw her.
Hermione Granger stood apart from the other Ravenclaws, her back straight, her eyes fixed on the brooms. She held a small notebook in her hands, and her lips moved silently, as if reciting something from memory.
'She's studying the rules,' Harry thought. 'Even for flying...'
A sharp whistle cut through the air.
Madam Hooch strode onto the lawn. She was a tall woman with short grey hair and hawk-like yellow eyes. Her leather boots crunched on the grass, and a whistle hung from her neck on a silver chain. She carried no broom, but Harry suspected she didn't need one.
"Well," she glared at them with narrow eyes. "What are you all standing around for? Find a broom and stand beside it. Now!."
The students scrambled to obey the instructor. Harry chose a broom that looked slightly less battered than the others and stood beside it, his heart pounding.
Madam Hooch walked along the row, her eyes scanning each student.
"Right," she stopped and returned to the front. "The first rule of flying is this: you do not mount the broom until I tell you to. The second rule: you do not kick off until I tell you to. The third rule: you do not...under any circumstances...do anything stupid. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Madam Hooch," the class chorused.
"Good. Now, stand with your right hand over the broom and say...Up!"
Harry extended his hand over the broom. "Up."
The broom twitched, then rolled over.
"Up," he said again, more firmly. His eyes were completely focused on the object next to his feet.
The broom leaped into his hand, vibrating with energy.
'I did it!' He felt victorious right now.
Beside him, Draco's broom rose smoothly.
Pansy struggled with hers, but after three attempts, it obeyed.
Crabbe's broom shot up so fast it nearly hit him in the face.
Across the lawn, Hermione Granger's broom rose on the first try, perfectly straight and perfectly controlled. She caught it without looking while her expression remained blank.
Hooch gave her a nod of approval. "Not bad, Granger. Not bad at all."
'Of course,' Harry thought. 'She's perfect at everything.'
"Now," Hooch said, "mount your brooms. Grip the handle firmly, but not too tightly. You are not strangling a chicken. You are asking a piece of enchanted wood to carry you into the sky. Show it some respect."
Harry swung his leg over the broom and settled onto the handle. He could feel some warmth coming from the broom.
"On my whistle," Hooch called, "you will kick off gently... no more than six feet off the ground. Then you will lean forward to land back on the ground. Any questions?"
No one spoke.
"Good. Ready –"
"Madam Hooch!"
The voice was sharp and clear. Harry turned.
Hermione Granger had raised her hand.
"What is it, Granger?" Hooch asked, her yellow eyes narrowing.
"According to Section 4, Paragraph B of the Hogwarts Safety Code for Flying Instruction, students must maintain a distance of at least three feet between brooms during initial ascent to prevent mid-air collisions. Mister Potter's broom is currently within two feet of Mister Malfoy's broom."
Harry glanced to his side. Draco's broom was indeed close...but the lawn was crowded. There was barely enough space to spread out.
Hooch's eyes moved to Harry. "Potter. Adjust your position."
"Yes, Madam." Harry shifted his broom, though there was nowhere to go.
But Hermione was not finished. "Also, Section 4, Paragraph D states that students must keep their wand hand free at all times in case of emergency. Mister Potter is gripping his broom with both hands, which would prevent him from accessing his wand if needed."
Harry's jaw tightened. "I'm just following the instru-"
"Silence," Hooch said. She looked at Hermione. "Thank you for your vigilance, Granger. Potter, keep one hand on the broom. The other remains free."
Harry adjusted his grip, his face burning with anger. He could feel everyone's eyes on him.
Hermione lowered her hand and returned her gaze to Hooch, her expression looking satisfied.
'What's wrong with her?' Harry thought. 'She reported me for something so ridiculously trivial.'
Suddenly, he heard the whistle and pushed his frustrations aside. He kicked off, rising into the air.
While doing his best to keep his excitement in check, he managed to hover six feet in the air and land without any incident.
He also had the chance to observe the others during the process. Draco was a natural, hovering in the air with ease.
Pansy was a bit shaky but determined.
Crabbe only hovered two feet off the ground and refused to go any higher, despite the professor's demands.
And Hermione...she performed every maneuver with textbook precision. She did not smile or show any emotion. Nor did she look at anyone else...she simply followed the rules.
When the lesson ended, Harry landed beside Draco and immediately looked for Hermione. She was efficiently packing her broom into the storage rack.
"I'll be right back," Harry said to Draco.
"Harry, don't," Draco warned. "It's not worth it. She's a..."
But Harry was already walking.
He caught up to her near the rack. "Granger."
Hermione turned, her expression was impossible to read. "Potter."
"Why did you do that?" Harry asked, keeping his voice low. "Reporting me to Hooch. For being one foot too close to Draco?. For holding my broom with both hands?. What was the point of that?"
Hermione blinked, as if the question did not make sense to her. "The point was to enforce the safety code, of course. Violations, even minor ones, can lead to accidents, injuries, or even worse...it could cause a liability for the school. By reporting you, I ensured that the rules were followed and no unnecessary risks were taken."
"You ensured that I got singled out in front of everyone."
"Your feelings are irrelevant to the matter in question," Hermione said flatly. "The rules exist for a reason. If you do not wish to be reported, you should not break them."
Harry stared at her. He could not find any malice or cruelty in her eyes as she spoke, unlike with someone like Ron Weasley. There was... nothing there. It was like trying to talk to a robot.
"You really don't see anything wrong with what you did?" Harry asked.
"I see no wrong in following the rules," Hermione replied. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have a Transfiguration essay to complete."
She turned and walked away with her back straight and her notebook clutched to her chest.
Harry stood there...feeling more confused than angry now.
"I told you," Draco said, appearing at his side. "It's not worth it to argue with her."
"How can she be like that?" Harry asked. "How can anyone be like that?"
Draco sighed. He glanced around to make sure no one was listening, then lowered his voice.
"It's because she's a Muggleborn, Harry. That's how they're raised."
Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"
Draco led him away from the other students, towards the edge of the lawn. Pansy and Crabbe followed at a distance, watching.
"You have to understand," Draco said, "Muggleborns aren't like us. They're not born into magical families. They're discovered...usually when their accidental magic manifests as children. When that happens, the Ministry steps in."
"Steps in how?"
"They take the child from their parents. The Muggle parents' memories are wiped clean. They forget they ever had a child. And the child is sent to a Ministry orphanage, where they're raised and educated."
Harry felt sick. "They just… take them?"
"It's for their own good," Draco said, though he did not sound convinced. "At least, that's what the Ministry says. Muggle parents can't teach them about magic. They can't control their accidental outbursts. It's safer for everyone if the child is raised by wizards."
"But they're still children," Harry said. "They still have families."
"Not anymore," Draco said quietly. " None of them would even remember they had a family before being taken to the orphanage. They're raised to be grateful...to serve and obey the Ministry of Magic and the Greater Good."
Harry thought of Hermione's blank expression and her robotic adherence to rules.
"Only the best are sent to Hogwarts," Draco continued. "The ones who show the highest aptitude for magic. The rest are sent to other Ministry facilities, where they're trained for menial work. They become clerks, assistants, servants...if they're lucky."
"And if they're not lucky?"
Draco did not answer.
"Muggleborns have a low place in our society," Pansy said, stepping closer. Her voice was bitter. "Some of the old wizard families, like the Weasleys, or the Longbottoms...they call them 'commoners.' They treat them like inferior wizards and witches, just one step higher than a house elf."
"That's horrible," Harry said.
"It is," Pansy agreed. "But that's how things are here. Hermione Granger is not a bad person or anything, Harry. She's not even cruel. She's just… a product of the system. She was raised to believe that rules are everything, that obedience is the highest virtue, and reporting violations is not just her right but her obligation."
"Which is why you need to be careful," Crabbe joined in. "You should never break a rule in front of a muggleborn. They will report you to the professors...always."
"She doesn't know any other way to be," Draco added. "And honestly? She's safer that way. The Muggleborns who question things, who push back, who try to be more than they're allowed to be…" He trailed off.
"Let me guess...they disappear," Harry finished.
Draco nodded.
That night...Harry could not fall asleep.
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