Muggle Studies — a quiet room with photographs that don’t move. “They use electricity,” the professor says. “And rubber ducks.” The Slytherins smirk. The Muggle-born smile softly. Magic isn’t the only wonder, after all.
Divination: Trelawney’s sherry-scented tower. “The Grim,” she gasps at Harry’s teacup. Ron yawns. Lavender wipes a tear. Parvati nods solemnly. Is it nonsense? Perhaps. But some predictions find you later, like a letter you never meant to send. hogwarts subjects
At nine in the morning, the Transfiguration classroom smells of polished mahogany and singed whiskers. Professor McGonagall taps her wand, and a teapot shudders into a tortoise. “You,” she says, eyes like flint, “will do better by Friday.” Muggle Studies — a quiet room with photographs
Defense Against the Dark Arts changes teachers like socks, but the curriculum stays: boggarts in wardrobes, red sparks for distress, and the slow, terrible lesson that darkness has many faces. One year, a werewolf teaches you to laugh at grindylows. The next, a toad insists on theory only. The practical always finds you anyway. The Muggle-born smile softly
Care of Magical Creatures happens in the Forbidden Forest’s shadow. Hagrid beams as a hippogriff bows to a trembling student. “See? He likes yeh.” The bow is slow, formal, terrifying. Then the leap — wind screaming past — and for one breath, you fly without a broom.
