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ACT3CH19 - Golden Rule
🕑 Added 2023-10-10 16:46:30 +0000 UTCHARRY POTTER APPOINTED AS THE NEW DEFENCE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS PROFESSOR! NEED, WHIM OR CONSPIRACY?
BY RITA SKEETER
Special Correspondent to the Evening Prophet (November 23, 1995)
Some people in our world need no introduction. They have left a lasting mark on our world whether we wish for them or not. The eccentric Headmaster of our prestigious Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, is one of them. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, is another.
It seems that the nonconformist Headmaster is up to his erratic ways once again. After the unfortunate incident where the public hero and Member of the Dark Force Defence League, Gilderoy Lockhart met a surprising snag in his position as the Defence professor because of Obliviation under unknown and suspicious conditions, Albus Dumbledore has been hiring mavericks one after another. After seeing his risky choices in the form of the werewolf Remus Lupin, followed by the trigger-happy crackpot former Auror Alastor Moody for the past two years, the Ministry of Magic had finally taken the issue in their own competent hands, and sent Madam Dolores Umbridge to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. Because of the surprising student mutiny, which many ascribe to the machinations of Harry Potter, fifth-year-student at Hogwarts, Madam Umbridge had to be forcefully retired from her position.
[For more on the Ministry’s policy at maintaining Hogwarts standards, refer to Page 2 — The High Inquisitor position and the Educational Decree Numbers 22 and 23.]
[Also check — EDUCATIONAL DECREE NUMBER 24 — HIGH INQUISITOR UMBRIDGE TO START SPECIAL CLASSES ON PRESERVATION OF WIZARDING CULTURE AND TRADITIONS on Page 2]
Shockingly enough, Headmaster Dumbledore appointed Harry Potter, currently fifth-year student who has yet to take any OWLs, as the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, despite the vocal impedance of High Inquisitor Umbridge. Harry Potter was found, casually denigrating the teaching practices of his predecessor, as well as the implementations and official classification of Dark Magic as per Ministry guidelines. Unnamed informants have assured this reporter that Mr. Draco Malfoy, son of the illustrious philanthropist and Wizengamot member Lucius Malfoy, was severely injured in his very first class in an act of public demonstration of spell violence. While several students have viewed his class presence as ‘competent’, this reporter wonders if the accident with Mr. Malfoy Junior was a case of abuse of position to inflict damage on his schoolyard rival.
But why was a student made the DADA professor? That is the question that plagues this reporter’s mind. Quite naturally, a visit to Mr. Malfoy, one of the Board of Governors, at his Wiltshire Mansion revealed several facts. Readers will remember that Harry Potter had funded a curse-breaking expedition in Hogwarts, right after his ‘generous’ donation of galleons to Hogwarts in the aftermath of basilisk parts sales, and based on the report forwarded by William Weasley, the team leader of said squad, the diabolical DADA curse can only be countered by the special brand of thaumaturgy that gained Mr. Potter his status of Warlock.
Interestingly, William Weasley is the eldest brother of Ronald Weasley, Harry Potter’s sidekick in the last few years at Hogwarts.
‘Albus Dumbledore forwarded this proposal to the Board of Governors, citing Weasley’s report as his claim behind appointing Potter, an otherwise unremarkable student as the DADA professor. The Chairperson of the Board, Joshua Greengrass vetoed this bill,” said Lord Lucius Malfoy. “And look, the very first day, my son is in the Hospital Wing. I have always claimed Potter to be a danger to Hogwarts and the students that go there to study under safe, controlled circumstances. What that old fool Dumbledore is playing at, I have no idea. I shall discuss this with the Minister at our next meeting.”
Joshua Greengrass, interestingly, is the father of Daphne Greengrass, Harry Potter’s supposed betrothed. Miss Greengrass and Mr. Potter are supposed to be engaged on the 23rd of December. While this reporter wishes them a very prosperous union, she wonders if there is something sinister under the table.
“The Ministry recognized the glaringly disrupted and fragmented teaching in the Defence Against The Dark Arts at Hogwarts, which was why a new DADA course, compiled by the OWL Examinations Authority, was prescribed for all seven classes at Hogwarts. A carefully structured, theory-centric, Ministry-approved course would have gone a long way in bettering the student’s understanding. Unfortunately, the student outrage following Mr. Potter’s duel with several students, and his own denigration of Ministry policy, led to the return of the original course load. And now, Albus Dumbledore has put Mr. Potter, a boy with no credentials to call his own, in charge of teaching students who are both greater than him in age, education and ability,” said Dolores Umbridge, High Inquisitor of Hogwarts.
“Albus Dumbledore is clearly bent on ruining the ancient school, and is spitting upon the great legacies of the Founders. His dictatorial behaviour has angered many, including the great philanthropist Lucius Malfoy,” said Lord Wilkes, member of the Board of Governors. “Unfortunately, the majority of the Board is very much in his favour.”
The quiet bustle in the Great Hall didn’t disturb Harry as he took in the article. A single glance at the staff table showed him that Dumbledore and McGonagall were engaged in a heated discussion, with Flitwick trying to get a word edgewise. The lack of sounds suggested a silencing ward around them, and by the looks that Fleur was sending him from the table, some of it had to do with him.
“They’re talking about you. Specifically about the Honour duel,” said Daphne from beside. “McGonagall is talking in your favour, though Dumbledore is quite annoyed at you letting things devolve that far. I reckon you’ll get a call right after dinner.”
Harry turned to her. “How do you know?”
“I read lips?”
Harry blinked.
Daphne snorted. “Life in Slytherin House is more than bigotry and powerplay you know. Almost every kid comes in knowing the silencing charm, and if not, then at least with runestrips with silencing wards carved into them. Part of being Slytherin 101. Naturally, I improvised.”
“By learning how to read lips?”
“How do you think I managed to stalk you so well?” she said challengingly. “It’s not like you and your sidekicks did anything in public, or strayed away from the Gryffindor table.”
“Hey!” said Ron, who was sitting on Harry’s other side.
Daphne gave him an impish smile and pointed at the Evening Prophet.
He groaned. “Whatever.” And went back to his meal.
“I imagine being a sidekick is what people will call us now, given how you’re always draped around him like an ornament,” said Hermione.
“What can I say?” Daphne drawled. “We’re going to marry in less than a month.”
“What’s that? Your mantra? You seem to repeat that line over and over,” Hermione shot back. “Afraid you’ll wake up and find it’s all a dream?”
“From where you are,” Daphne said coolly. “It might as well be a dream.”
“Excuse me—”
“Alright, you two, that’s enough bickering for the evening. I’ve got enough worries without the two of you starting another fight,” said Harry, effortlessly falling into place as a mediator. Clashes between Hermione and Daphne were a common thing ever since she had begun to accompany him for meals from time to time. At first it was hilarious, what with the entire Hall watching and whispering, seeing a lone Slytherin sitting with Gryffindors and chattering away. At times, Susan and her lot would come in too, probably testing the waters if nothing else. And then there would be days when Fleur would just insist on having dinners in his room with him, because she didn’t have the option of coming down to Gryffindor table, what with being a staff member. But now that he too was a member of the staff, he wondered if Fleur was going to put her foot down and demand that he join her with the rest of the staff from time to time.
“Oh, relax,” said Daphne, grinning. “Skeeter has it out for you. You told me that. And with what happened, do you really expect the Ministry to paint you in glowing colours?”
Harry winced. “I’d have liked it if there had been a couple of good things said about my classes as well. That paper makes me sound like some kind of talentless, trigger-happy madman.”
“Then you should've looked at other papers, dear,” she said. “Now read this and stop being morose.”
She held up a copy of the Spellbound’s evening edition.
“I didn’t know you subscribed to this.”
“I don’t,” said Daphne. “But I wanted to know what the other papers would talk about. I even got Witch Weekly and The Flying Post. It’s my fiance’s first day of class, after all.”
Harry rolled his eyes.
“Oh no, you don’t get to do that,” said Daphne. “Flying Post actually talks about your insistence on the importance of intent, and what other students have said about it. They go into details about your personal brand of thaumaturgy, and speculate about its possibilities if it can very well defeat the DADA curse. There’s an entire section in Spellbound referring to the work done by the Workshop, funded by the Department of Mysteries. You’ve even got a statement from Saul Croaker, the DOM spokesman himself, claiming that your thaumaturgy might change the way we look at magic itself.”
She wasn’t kidding. There were even quotes from other students. Nott had given a glorious review, as had Susan and Sue Li. Even Parkinson hadn’t been a bitch about it, which in Harry’s mind, was equal to receiving glowing praise. Still, something about the girl’s erratic behaviour was telling. He hoped it wasn’t another stupid ploy to get Daphne away from him, or make him look bad.
The NEWT-students also had several good things to say about him. The Flying Post, though, was the only one that mentioned the Honour Duel, and the aftermath of it.
“I’ve to ask, Harry,” said Hermione softly. “How did you learn to do all that? Silent casting, learning to duel all that… who taught you?”
“Oh you know,” he said, “Sirius taught me a thing or two in the summer.”
He did his best to avoid the scowl Daphne gave him. He knew how much she hated it when he downplayed himself.
“That feels more than just a thing or two,” said Hermione, frowning.
“How does that matter, Hermione?” asked Ron who was sitting on Harry’s other side. “This bloke’s learnt to do all that, and he’s teaching us.”
“Because I was there with him during his preparation for the Triwizard,” said Hermione, giving Harry a penetrating look. “And I’ve seen him struggling with the basic Protego shield back then. The jump from that to this is… strange.”
“Don’t worry, Granger,” said Daphne stiffly. “He isn’t an imposter.”
“If I was an imposter, someone would’ve noticed,” said Harry, smiling.
“Prat,” said Daphne, before the pleased expression faded from her face. “Look sharp. Professor McGonagall’s approaching us.”
And indeed she was. The stern Transfiguration professor strode all the way to where he was sitting.
“Evening, Professor,” he greeted, as did the others.
“Evening, Potter,” said the woman. “Evening, Miss Greengrass, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley. Potter, the Headmaster wishes to talk to you after dinner.” She held out a tiny piece of parchment, which he knew was the current password.
“Uh, thank you, professor. Can you tell me what that’s about?”
McGonagall pursed her lips. “That is between yourself and the Headmaster, Potter. Though I imagine it will be about matters most recent.”
The duel. Harry thought silently, giving her a slow nod. “I’ll be there.”
“See that you do.” She gave a collective nod at the people around him. “Enjoy your dinner.”
“What’s on the parchment?” asked Daphne after McGonagall was gone.
“His office password,” said Harry absently, wondering if Hermione indeed had a point and if he had let things go out of proportion. The only reason he had acted was because of the Honour Duel. Had he been mistaken about something?
“Guess you were right about it earlier.”
Daphne’s response was to give him a chaste kiss on his lips. “I always am. You just haven’t realised it yet.”
And then she proceeded to kiss him again, only for Hermione to clear her throat loudly from the opposite side of the table.
Harry pulled away from his fiance. “Yes, Hermione?”
“You’re a teacher, Harry,” she whispered, her eyes narrowed to slits. “You shouldn’t be displaying affection to another in public. It’s not proper.”
Daphne’s answer for that was to entwine her hand around his left arm possessively. “Piss off, Granger. You’ll never land a boyfriend with that attitude. Even Weasley can only bother to wait for so long.”
Ron began coughing madly.
Hermione helped him to a glass of water, and glared at Daphne. “Excuse me?”
“What? Don’t tell me none of you noticed?” Daphne’s lips curled into a smirk, which warned Harry that something absolutely embarrassing was just about to happen. “HEY BROWN!” she yelled, causing Lavender, Parvati and their entire girl’s gang to look at her in surprise. “You need to be less subtle. Weasley here hasn’t noticed a thing.”
Lavender went crimson, while Parvati giggled.
“Shut up!” hissed Hermione. “You’re causing a scene.”
Ron though, was absolutely flabbergasted, and went from gaping at Daphne to gaping at the blushing Lavender giggling with her friends.
“What?” asked Daphne, smirking at Hermione. “I broke something? I haven’t even gotten started on Turpin. Lisa was stealing glances at Weasley here after he defeated her in the duel.”
Hermione fumed. One look at Daphne told Harry that she was aiming for that all along.
He sighed.
“It’s not your business who likes Ron, or if he likes them back or not,” whispered Hermione, seething. “And I’m sorry if you don’t like my attitude, but I can’t help it, seeing you’re bent on changing my best friend into someone I can’t even recognize from time to time.”
“Listen you—” Daphne began, but Hermione cut her off.
“You might think you’re the Queen of freaking Britain because you’re getting married to the Boy-Who-Lived, but don’t think I cannot see what you’re doing. I’m not an idiot.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“Alright, enough with this,” Harry intervened, realising this was getting out of proportion again.
“No, Harry, and you might hate me for saying this, but you did a terrible thing in class. What you did to Malfoy was extremely unfair.”
“Unfair?” asked Daphne, her eyes thinned to slits. “Oh, and what should he have done, Granger? Let him curse him and call him an incompetent fool?”
“I didn’t say that,” Hermione defended. “Harry’s a professor. Malfoy’s a student. He cannot just accept a challenge like that. It’s beneath him.”
“He challenged him to an honour duel.”
Hermione arched an eyebrow. “Malfoy’s a student. As much as he wants to pretend otherwise, he isn’t his father. And I know Draco. He wouldn’t have shown up and tried to get Harry into trouble. That’s what he always does.”
“And because Harry accepted his challenge, he’s the bad guy?”
“Com’n Hermione,” said Ron, who had decided it was time to interject himself into the impromptu debate. “You can’t tell me Malfoy didn’t deserve it? He’s always coming after us. He needed to be taken down a peg or ten.”
“I agree, Weasley,” said Daphne.
“Err….” said Ron, flummoxed at seeing Daphne agree so easily with him. “Yeah, that.”
“That’s not the point,” fumed Hermione.
“Then pray tell,” said Daphne. “What is the point?”
“You don’t have to be an expert at psychology to know the difference between right and wrong.”
“And you think I don’t?” asked Harry.
“Harry,” said Hermione pleadingly. “You’re a professor. And that means exercising restraint. Else you’ll just give Skeeter more ammunition.” She narrowed her eyes. “You can’t tell me that facing Malfoy head-on was really the best idea? Whatever happened to ‘keeping your head down and staying out of trouble’ that you were espousing last night?”
Daphne looked at him curiously.
“You do not think that Malfoy deserved it?” asked Harry curiously.
“It’s not a matter of what he deserved or not,” said Hermione hotly. “It’s about the precedent you’re setting. As a teacher, you have to treat the students equally. And before you say it, I’ll tell you that you didn’t. Yes, Malfoy egged you into a duel. Yes, he disrespected you in front of the entire class. But you could’ve deducted points, or sent him to detention.”
“Which he did,” argued Ron.
“It might have reflected off your bushy hair, Granger, but Harry actually did that, first.”
“It’s not about that!” Hermione was getting really worked up. “You know exactly how Malfoy is. He’s a —”
“Prideful, egotistical, sonofabitch with dung for brains?” offered Ron.
Daphne snorted.
Hermione scoffed. “I’m dealing with children here, honestly.” She turned to Harry. “I was watching you. You might’ve thought it looked funny. But you were playing with him. Those last spells ought to have hurt him.”
“All teaching carries an element of risk.”
“Really, you’re saying that?” Hermione challenged. “After all that you faced?”
“Yes,” said Harry, flakes of annoyance filtering into his tone. “Especially after what I’ve faced. I told everyone. I’m going to impress upon everyone exactly what it means to face danger and survive with your head intact. And for people like Malfoy, the lesson is slightly different. He needs to learn that if he is playing with fire, he should be prepared to get burnt.”
“That wasn’t teaching, Harry. That was being vindictive. I saw you. It was like you weren’t even treating him like an actual person.”
“What the hell, Hermione?” demanded Ron. “Why are you taking Malfoy’s side here?”
“It’s not about taking sides, Ron. It’s about perspective.”
“Perspective?” asked Daphne, scowling. “Where was your perspective when you were inciting Harry to teach Defence even when the Ministry was against it?”
“I’m a student. So are you. So was Harry. And Umbridge was the professor. She was the one in power. She was taking advantage of her power, and keeping us from learning spells. Like Harry took advantage of his power as a professor, and treated Malfoy less than a human being.”
She was half-right, Harry decided. It wasn’t like he was treating Malfoy as less than a human being. Back then, it was all he could do to not treat him as prey. So instead he had played with him, and the more pathetic he turned out to be, the more the idea of wasting time and effort over killing this nobody felt like a waste of time.
But he couldn’t obviously tell Hermione that.
“Better him than people like Umbridge and Malfoy,” grunted Ron.
“So that’s what we’ll see it as, right?” hissed Hermione, “better us than them?”
“Oh no,” drawled Daphne. “You seem to like them in power instead of Harry. You’d have him stripped off his Lordship, and be sent to those filthy muggles every summer where he could be tor—”
“Daphne!”
“…. Sorry,” she said to Harry, before turning to him. “Cough it out, Granger. What’s your real problem? It’s definitely not about Malfoy, and it's definitely not about what happened in the class or Harry’s teaching. You’ve been a prissy little uppity bitch from the first day Harry declared our engagement, so why don’t you just clear the air right away? It’s me, isn’t it? You can’t bear the idea of him with someone like me? Perhaps you’d want him for yourself, is that it?”
Hermione’s eyes turned to slits. “Don’t try to put words in my mouth, Greengrass. Yes, I think you are an arrogant little queen-bee that thinks she’s won him like a prize, but that’s not what this is about. I understand your isolated, little pureblood society might not be able to grasp the fact, but ‘He who has the gold, makes the rules’ is a bad way to govern a society. And that’s what you, and your father have been trying to make Harry do from the very beginning. You’re paraded him around as a Lord, used his influence as the Boy-who-Lived and Lord Potter to ease your way in Slytherin House, and you’ve oh-so-well taught him how to throw gold and solve problems. Do not pretend that Harry would’ve been a professor without your dad sitting on the Board of Governors.”
“Really Hermione, you think that little of me? That I couldn’t have gotten the position without Joshua’s aid?”
He hadn’t meant the words to come out that cold, that hard. The scorn surprised him, but it bubbled and seethed within. Some part of him was furious at Hermione for questioning his ability to teach DADA when she had been the one that was the most vocal about getting him to teach Defence. Albus Dumbledore had offered him the position, not because he had demanded it of him, but because the wily old man had all but manipulated him into doing it. And however things had happened, he was the defence professor by right, and he’d be damned if —
He closed his eyes, and clenched his jaw. Pride. Territoriality. Vengeance. That was the owl-instincts talking again.
He opened his eyes, and found Daphne studying him. Clearly she had spotted the sudden shift in his body language and came to her assumptions.
“Hermione,” he said again, this time a tad softer. “You know as well as I do exactly what the Ministry is like. They sent Hagrid to Azkaban because the Ministry had to be seen doing something, and yet, didn’t even spare a single Auror to investigate the Chamber back in our second year. The same Ministry that declared Sirius as a mass-murderer, and went out of its way to make me look like a crazed murderer because the truth was inconvenient.”
“Harry,” Hermione stressed. “Nobody says that the Ministry’s perfect. I was the one that went to Susan to talk about creating the Defence group, remember? I was also the one that stood up and questioned Umbridge’s course aims when you kept your head down. But if you start doing the same things that they do, what’s the difference between you and the kinds of Lucius Malfoy?”
“What would you have him do, then?” seethed Daphne. “Give up his power and protest against the Ministry? Because that would’ve been such a brilliant idea?”
“I don’t know if they teach this in pureblood school, Greengrass,” said Hermione coldly. “But in the muggle world, it is the voice of the people and the choices they make that dictate the steps taken by the government. Yes, sometimes people make bad choices, choose bad leaders, and vote against their own interests but that’s the part of the process that makes it fair. But I guess you won’t understand, would you, Lady Greengrass? After all, you’ve got a hereditary seat in the legislature, regardless of how ill-equipped you might be to deserve that post.”
Harry feared that Daphne would’ve raised her wand.
Correction. He hoped she’d have raised her wand. Instead she did something else.
She smiled. Thinly.
Even Ron looked alert.
“Tell me, Granger,” said Daphne. “Do you even know why the Wizengamot exists? You look at us and see the hereditary seats. You see the amount of gold we throw to keep our seat every year. Do you even know why we do that?”
Harry winced. McGonagall had explained to him a little bit about this back during the start of the summer.
“It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. Throw some gold, hold seats, and make sure that the laws that are passed do not fall against your favour.”
“Shows what you know, mudblood—”
“Daphne,” Harry stepped in. “I warned you —”
“And I told you my reasons as well,” Daphne shot back, seething. “And this, right here, is proof. She probably thinks that the Ancient and Noble Houses are just fancy titles invented by peacocks like Malfoy and his ilk. Your uppity best friend has the gall to just assume that our Wizengamot is just a muggle version of the muggle British Parliament. Well, news flash, Granger, it isn’t. We aren’t the House of Lords and House of Commons. And neither is the Wizengamot just a Legislative wing. Know your facts before you open your ignorant mouth.”
“Well, I never—”
“Hermione,” said Harry. “The Wizengamot has many duties outside the Ministry of Magic.”
“She doesn’t care about that,” stormed Daphne. “Our history, our contributions in maintaining the magical world’s existence mean nothing. She thinks we’re just muggles that break physics using little pieces of wood. She’s probably even thinking of returning to her muggle world and getting her ‘degrees’ just in case this whole magic-thing doesn’t work out for her.”
Hermione scowled. “I’m surprised you even know about muggle degrees.”
“Just because everybody else doesn’t hide their heads under large tomes means they’re all idiots. Just because Malfoy is a pig that thinks that muggles are neanderthals doesn’t mean the rest of the Wizarding world share that perception. It is because of snobbish little girls like you that muggleborns get a bad name. So shut that trap and listen well, Granger. The Ancient and Noble Houses are part of the magical world’s framework. We’re the reason why wands exist. We’re the reason why places like Hogwarts exist. We’re the reason why the world hasn’t already become a dry machine-run deadland, because we preserve its sanctity. Magic warps reality, Granger. Our world is shaped by our perceptions, thoughts, emotions and beliefs. A single grain of sand on the beach is inconsequential, but collect enough to build a moon, and it can cause tides in the ocean. Individual witches and wizards are like those tiny grains of sand. The Wizengamot, and through it, the collective Magical Britain, is the Moon. Us, the Ancient and Noble Houses, the Miraculum Operarius, we’re the one that are the reason why Magic itself follows laws, why subjects like Arithmancy exist, why you can safely use magic without blowing yourself up like the old days."
No mouthing off this time.
“And even then,” said Daphne. “We don’t just take things for granted. Eight thousand galleons — that’s eight times the gold the Triwizard tournament gave as prize, you know, the amount you all thought Harry had lied and cheated his way into the tournament for —”
Ron ducked and looked away, his face flushed.
“—That’s the sum of money Ancient Houses like Greengrass and Potter pay, every goddamn year, just to keep our hereditary seats at the Wizengamot. We’re the reasons why you can even have a Hogwarts education in the first place, and as far as I know, you haven’t paid a single knut as taxes to the society you claim is backward and barbaric. So know your fucking place before you talk shit about people that are better than you, you filthy—”
“Enough!” said Harry.
Daphne clenched her teeth, and looked away.
“No one says that the Ancient Houses sit and dwaddle their thumbs, Greengrass,” snapped Hermione. “And just like you know about muggle degrees, I’m not ignorant of pureblood history either. I have read all about them after Harry’s trial. I know all about their duties. But that having greater responsibilities does not justify grabbing all the power for yourselves. For all your talk, just how many muggleborns have anything to say in your Wizengamot? You purebloods and your Ancient Houses own the Wizengamot, you make the laws and twist them to suit your purposes, you run the Ministry. Half the Heads of Ministry departments are from Ancient Houses. You’re a bunch of self-serving hypocrites that hide in your grand mansions, ignoring the bright sunlight outside, unwilling to change, unwilling to accept that there is a far larger world than this stagnating pile that’s Wizarding Britain.”
Daphne glared at her. “Then why don’t you leave this place, Granger? No one’s stopping you.”
“Really?” said Hermione, leering at her. “Remember what Harry said? The Ministry will come for me if I try to run. I’m tied to this country, at least until I pay all my dues for my so-called Hogwarts education, and by the time that happens, I’ll probably end up marrying someone just as unfortunate as myself, and then prepare for the next generation, smiling and sending them to Hogwarts to become the newest stock to suffer Pureblood bigotry.”
Daphne sneered.
“You talk big, Greengrass,” said Hermione with a condescending sneer. “But in the end, you’re all hypocrites. Why not let someone from my side of the line take charge? Are you too afraid of what would happen? Too afraid of your delusions being shattered?”
Daphne gave her a dangerous look. “Yes, of course. Give someone like you a chance to become the Minister of Magic. Because one Nobby Leech wasn’t enough?”
“Excuse me,” she said, standing up, and looking at Harry. “I’ve lost my appetite.”
And then before Harry could say anything, Daphne walked off to the Slytherin table.
“Hermione,” said Ron. “I think you should apologise.”
“Apologise?” snapped Hermione. “For what? Yes, I might have not known about the Wizengamot’s functions, but so what? That doesn’t give us the power to have say over others. People should be equal.”
Harry sighed. “Hermione, you can only compromise with people that are willing to compromise. Unless you think that we should compromise with Voldemort and his Death Eaters as well? What do you think people should do? Let them kill an annual quota of muggles and muggleborns every year, and be content so long as they don’t cross that red tape?”
Hermione looked at him, affronted. “That’s not what I meant, Harry. But you’ve got to understand that power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. If you use your gold to get things done in your favour, and everyone mimics your actions, then it won’t be a civilised society any longer.”
Harry wiped his mouth with the kerchief. “Firstly, Hermione, everyone cannot do what I can do. Ninety five percent of the world’s wealth and power is concentrated in five percent of the world’s population. Even in the muggle world, that’s true. And as for power corrupting me, ask yourself this.”
He smiled, repeating the same words Nicolas had told him.
“If Absolute power corrupts absolutely, does absolute powerlessness make you pure?”
“....”
With that parthian shot, he left a flabbergasted Hermione and a worried Ron on the Gryffindor table. He was sure Daphne would show up in his room sooner or later tonight. But before that, there was a visit to the Headmaster’s office he needed to get done with.
Comments
RedOuroboros
Problem is Hermione is the type that wants to make the whole world English (even in canon) and although Daphne was rude Hermione been pushing it ;
TigerSwarm9122
This was a real interesting chapter. One that I can barely get enough of, as I'm glad you called Hermione out on her hypocrisy. It's always rubbed me the wrong way but I never understood how she could be arrogant enough to decide what was best for everyone. She reads a couple books and suddenly believes sh knows everything. Whenever someone contradicts her she gets upset. Likely because she cannot stand the fact of some people know more or better than her. I am not saying that Daphne is completely right, but that Hermione can be labeled as a "tyrant" in some spades. Moreover, I find it hypocritical that she goes to Harry with the thought of him teaching a secret DA club when Umbridge isn't and later gets upset when he starts acting like a professor and punishes Malfoy. That is quite the double standard right there.
