August | Hermione Granger x OFC

Chapter Sixty-Three

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Thursday came, and it was time for her first detention with Dumbledore himself.

Should prove interesting.

She showed up at eight on the dot after Hermione forced her to swear she wouldn't be late.

"He's the Headmaster! You can't leave him waiting!" Hermione had told her firmly.

"Yes, but he's Dumbledore," Robyn had replied smartly, as if she needn't say more.

And yet, here she was, exactly on time.

So, Dumbledore welcomed her to his office where he seemed to be sorting through important letters on his desk. He gestured for her to sit across from him, then slid her a book. Not just any book, but 'Moronic Muggles', a political treatise detailing the inferiority of Muggles. A book filled with anti-Muggle propaganda, basically...and Dumbledore was having her read it?

"Sir?"

"I'd like for you to, please, note down anything you think is accurate, and anything you think is inaccurate."

"I don't take Muggle Studies, sir."

"I give this task to all of my detainees."

"Oh, okay."

It was weird. And she wasn't sure he personally oversaw many detentions at all, not while he was Headmaster. Surely he had more important things to do. However, she wasn't complaining. She'd rather do this than clean bedpans or cauldrons.

So, she borrowed a quill and some parchment from his desk and dutifully got to reading.

She was just writing down another bullet point in the 'inaccurate' column, albeit uncertainly ('Muggles enjoy hitting each other with sticks,' – she hadn't seen any Muggles doing that in Brighton, but, who knows, maybe there were Muggles who enjoyed doing that), when Dumbledore spoke up suddenly.

"What do you think of the book, Miss Rosier?"

"I think it's a load of tosh," she said automatically, then, tried to backtrack, "er, that is, I don't think it's very—"

"Accurate?" he finished with an amused look in his eye.

"Right."

"Yes, I couldn't help but notice the 'accurate' column was looking quite sparse."

"Er, yes, sir. Like I said, I don't think this book is any good at all..."

"You mean to say you don't think Muggles like hitting each other with sticks?"

"I don't...I don't think so...Sounds rather primitive, to me."

He looked pleased when she said that, but still pushed, "Fencing?"

"I'm not sure, sir, exactly what that is."

He chuckled good-naturedly. "No, you mightn't." Then, "Do you know what propaganda is?"

"Yes, sir, I do."

"I thought so, intelligent girl you are."

He talked to her some more about propaganda and Muggles and it was all very interesting but she didn't know why he was talking about this stuff with her.

Well, no, she did – he must have an agenda of some sort. To convince her to like Muggles, or something similar. The question was, why? What did he care whether she liked Muggles or not?