章節 44: Wizards and Muggles
"Harry, you are treading in very, very dangerous waters here," warned Sirius. "What you're saying is exactly what Voldemort preached."
"I know," said Harry bitterly.
"That's why I never raised this issue with anyone but you, but I really do want to know the answer. I've lived with Muggles, Sirius. I have dealt with not just my relatives but also Muggles in the neighbourhood and at school. Trust me, there is a reason I don't like Muggles. None of them would react favourably if their child is born magical. Do you think I'm the only child in the world who has been abused by Muggles because of magic? There are bound to be others as well, right? Isn't there some truth to that? Isn't that also why MACUSA completely cut off from the Muggle world, banning wizards from interacting with Muggles? I've heard that it is similar in Asia and Africa as well. Why can't we do the same?"
"It's true that Magical Europe is far more liberal when it comes to wizard-Muggle relations as compared to the rest of the world. Tell me something. Are you saying all this only because of your experience with Muggles? What about those Muggles who don't hate magic? You can't just vilify all Muggles or expect others to do so just because you had a bad experience with them. That would mean you are imposing your beliefs on others, which was what the last war was all about. Think about it."
Sirius went to his room later, pondering the issue. He never thought he would see the day when the son of James and Lily was anti-Muggle. He honestly didn't know how to proceed because his godson's argument made sense.
He would have to think about this; find out more. The Black family had contacts throughout Europe, so he could do some research. Amelia also had international contacts, not to mention had access to restricted information at the Ministry of Magic. He owed Harry an answer because he himself had to admit that what Harry said was true. Being raised a Black, he had been taught the true history of why wizards had gone into hiding in the first place, not the diluted version that was made available by Muggle-sympathising historians like Bathilda Bagshot. The witch hunts back then had truly been horrifying; nothing how the school books described them.
Tens of thousands of witches and wizards, maybe more, especially defenceless children, had been tortured to death back then, in Magical Europe alone . Countless more had died all over the world. The situation had been too dire to contemplate. That was why the entire international community had teamed up to create the International Statute of Secrecy, and that was the reason it was enforced so rigidly by the I.C.W.
But he was also worried about Harry. The boy was walking down a dangerous path which others like Grindelwald and Voldemort had taken before, and Sirius vowed that he would do everything in his power so that his godson did not make life choices erroneously for something he believed was right.
Who knew parenting could be so hard?
The first of September dawned bright and early. Harry took his time getting ready, finished his breakfast and once done, shrunk his trunk and Flooed to the platform where he boarded the train. He spotted Daphne and Tracy already there, so he sat down and began talking. He didn't get time to read much as he was constantly pelted with questions about the duelling tournament by the acquaintances he had in all four Houses. Neville Longbottom was ecstatic because he had listened to Professor Flitwick's advice from the end of the previous term and bought a wand which suited him. He had practised magic during the summer and was quite happy with the results.
When they reached Hogsmeade, Harry gave a curt nod in the direction of Draco Malfoy who nodded back at him. The two of them didn't talk much and maintained distance, choosing to nod to each other if the other passed by. They didn't share any classes, so there wasn't much scope for them to interact, with each having a different circle of friends. Harry also spoke to the older students with whom he shared classes with the previous term. He would be their classmate for another term since he would be starting fourth-year classes this time. After the winter holidays, he would be advancing to the fifth years' class.
The sorting went on as normal and Harry soon found himself back in his room at Ravenclaw Tower. Tippy had already expanded his room and put his clothes away, so Harry simply undressed and got into bed. The next morning, he was by the lake, as usual, and ran and exercised for nearly two hours. Once done, he took a shower and got dressed. There were a lot more people staring at him when he entered the Great Hall, but he tried to not let it bother him. He received his schedule from Professor Flitwick and joined the rest of the fourth years to head to Defence class which he shared with the Gryffindors.
"I really hope he's competent," said Harry quietly.
"Why do -"
"- you say that?"
"I've read all his books and do you know what I found? Nothing. There wasn't a single incantation mentioned anywhere," explained Harry as he took his usual seat next to Fred and George Weasley. "What's the point of prescribing them as textbooks if they're not going to help us learn? I'm starting to wonder if he's faked it all, claiming fiction to be factual."
"Our mum is a big fan of dear Lockhart," said George.
"She would be heartbroken if that were true," agreed Fred.
Their Defence professor soon entered the room, wearing bright yellow robes. Harry grimaced; he would burn such clothes on principle. They were way too cheerful for his tastes.
Lockhart gave a dramatic entrance and pointed to the various portraits of him and said, "Me. Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class; Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League; five-time winner of Witch Weekly's most charming smile Award, and your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Ah, I see you've bought my complete set of books. Well done. Let's start with a quiz, shall we?"
He handed over sheets of parchment to everyone. "Now don't worry, this isn't anything difficult. You have thirty minutes, so begin!"
Harry looked at the questions incredulously. They were all about Lockhart and not one of them was related to the subject he was being paid to teach! Who the hell cared what the man's favourite colour was or what his secret ambition was? This was ridiculous! He could hear Fred and George snickering next to him, so he knew that the two of them were writing something embarrassing. He instead wrote something on the margin in his neat handwriting -
I did not sign up for a Gilderoy Lockhart class.
I signed up for a Defence class. I refuse to participate .
There. Done. He removed his copy of Curses and Counter-Curses from his bag and began reading. When Lockhart collected their answer sheets after the time was up, his eyes bulged when he saw the answers written by Fred and George, but also spotted the empty sheet that belonged to Harry Potter, except for the line at the top.
"Detention with me, Misters Weasley and Mr Potter," said Lockhart, with a beaming smile. "I'm sure you will appreciate why I give these tests once we get to know each other better."
Harry rolled his eyes. He gripped the locket that was hanging from around his neck and a notice-me-not charm activated. If the fool was not going to teach anything, there was nothing Harry could do, but he would be damned if he was going to waste time in class. His O.W.L.s were less than a year away, and he had to prepare for them.
After Defence and Charms, Harry was heading towards the Great Hall when there was a bright flash of light. Harry blinked his eyes and flicked his wand out of his holster, suspecting a threat, only to find a first-year boy looking at him with big eyes.
"Don't you think it's inappropriate to take someone else's picture without their permission?" snapped Harry irritably. Knowing that his magic was volatile, he exhaled slowly in order to calm down, and his emotionless mask was back in place a few seconds later. He gazed at the photographer with cool eyes.
The boy in question flushed, but his excitement was showing. "Hi Harry," he said eagerly. "I'm Colin, Colin Creevey. I'm a first year Gryffindor. Do you think - would it be alright if - you know - I could take a picture with you?"
Before he could answer, things went downhill. One of the seventh year Ravenclaws, who was quite vocal in his protest against Harry being in the accelerated program, began laughing.
"What is it now, Potter?" he asked snidely. "Can't handle being on the front page of the newspaper often enough that you give signed photographs now?"
....
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