PRECEDENT : Draco Malfoy II

04

Once classes are back in action, my routine of shutting myself in the library between classes and after classes returns. I cannot imagine what next year will be like on top of this. Then, I will have to deal with studying for O.W.L.s on top of my current regime. Maybe all of this would be easier if I was resigned to return to the muggle world after graduating, but I can't help but find the puzzle that is magic fascinating. I still don't quite understand how wizards are able to cast spells using words and motions. Should not willpower matter more? No matter how much I read, an answer will never satiate me.

Unfortunately, I have gotten sidetracked from my work. I'm currently two hundred pages deep into a book on wandless magic. My charms homework is neglected, but Professor Flitwick likes me, so it shouldn't be an issue. I'm so distracted that I haven't even checked on Hermione in an hour, to see if she is still here. She isn't running around with Harry Potter or Ron Weasley today, so she undoubtedly is in the library.

I look up just as Terry plops down across from me. If I hadn't thought about Hermione, I wonder if I would have noticed him arrive at all. He pulls out a book from his bag. It's another comparative analysis between the muggle and magical sides of the United Kingdom. These past few weeks, he has been reading a lot of books related to that subject. He used to read about historical magical laws, about elvish rights and welfare, or even books about the demographics of witches and wizards across different continents, and what can account for variances in the numbers of muggle-borns and purebloods. Now, it's always a comparative analysis.

This comparative analysis is on the conceptualization of youth and children from the Victorian era until the end of early industrialization in Britain. I overheard him talking to Michael about it at dinner last night. While muggles were sending children to work in factories, magical children were continuing to go to Hogwarts, as far as I know. Apparently there is some debate over the delay in Hogwarts education. Some scholars insist that the first eleven years were dedicated to cramming in as much reading, writing, and arithmetic as possible. Others suggest that Hogwarts only persisted during this time due to the volatility of magic, and the delay allowed for children to work until their magic became too much.

Terry opens the book and starts to read. I close mine. With my elbows on the table, and my hands propping up my face, I lean in closer.

"What about muggle-born children?" I ask. He's near the end of the book.

He looks up at me. Then, he looks down and then back up, "sorry?"

"Your book. Well, weren't there muggle families who couldn't afford to send their children to Hogwarts?" I ask, looking at the book. "That's why children worked during the industrial revolution, isn't it?"

"Partially," Terry smiles a bit, "children were also preferred by employers. They were easier to exploit and smaller, so they could fit into tighter spaces."

"My question still stands," I answer. "What did muggle families tell their friends and families about their children? They certainly didn't have the money to send their children to boarding school, so weren't absences more suspicious?"

Terry rolls his shoulders as if to relieve tension, "well, if parents did not want to send their children away, we would kidnap them."

I stare at Terry, and he doesn't answer at first. Instead, I adjust myself in my chair, "elaborate."

"There isn't much else to say," Terry adjusts his collar. "We can't have untrained witches and wizards running around. It could get dangerous, for them, for the muggles around them, and for the rest of the wizarding world. We try to convince them at all costs nowadays, but I'm sure it happens every so often still. The children had the option to return over the summer, so long as the parents behaved."