Starting in their third year at Hogwarts, students had to stick with the core seven subjects—Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, History of Magic, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy, and Herbology—but they also got to pick at least two electives from a handful of options: Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Muggle Studies, and Ancient Runes.
Rumor had it there was another, ultra-exclusive subject only sixth- and seventh-years could take if they met certain requirements: Alchemy. The legendary alchemist Nicolas Flamel, who crafted the Philosopher's Stone, was the gold standard in that field.
Hermione, being Hermione, wanted to take every elective.
The problem? Some of the classes clashed on the timetable.
But when she asked Professor McGonagall, she was told she could take all of them.
That's where her dilemma kicked in.
So, naturally, she turned to Dudley.
"For small questions, ask Hermione; for big decisions, ask Dudley"—that was practically the motto of their little crew.
"Hermione, wanting to learn everything is great," Dudley said, giving her a nod of approval while fully supporting her ambition.
Dursley's Life Lesson #1: Never start by shooting down your female friends' ideas, or even if you're right, you'll get hit with, "Is that how you talk to me?" or "Why are you being so mean?"
"But you've got to realize your energy's limited. These subjects will eat up a ton of your time. A wise Muggle once said, 'Jack of all trades, master of none.' Instead of spreading yourself thin and being average at everything, you might want to drop the less essential subjects."
Dudley's finger slid across the timetable, pausing at Arithmancy, Divination, and Muggle Studies.
"Can you tell me why you picked these three? Especially Muggle Studies—do you really think you need that one?"
Hermione tilted her head. "Don't you think it's interesting to look at Muggles from a different perspective?"
"If it's just about it being 'interesting,' then it's not worth your time," Dudley said. "Your time's too valuable."
Muggle Studies had a noble start—set up to benefit the wizarding world by studying Muggle technology and assessing any potential threats. But over time, arrogant wizards forgot its purpose, letting their biases against Muggles taint the subject. Now, it was mostly a fluff course.
As Hermione put it, it was just "interesting."
"And Arithmancy? No offense, but it's less practical than Divination," Dudley continued. "Using complex equations to predict the future sounds fancy, but the accuracy's dodgy at best."
You'd get better results with tarot cards—at least those involved some psychology.
As for Divination?
"Honestly, I don't buy into prophecies or fortune-telling," Dudley said. "It's all a bit too mystical for me. My take? It works if you believe in it, and it doesn't if you don't."
He moved on, tapping Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures.
"These are the truly useful ones," he said. "If you take my advice, stick with just these two."
Dudley himself had only picked those two electives. The others were pointless for him—just credit-padding with no real value. And Time-Turners? Sure, they sounded cool, but the drawbacks were massive.
Hermione fell into deep thought, weighing Dudley's words.
He had a point, but…
"If you're still torn, you could audit a few classes before deciding," Dudley suggested. "But one thing's non-negotiable: don't let these extra subjects drag down your progress in Charms, Transfiguration, or Potions."
Hermione's biggest strengths were Charms, followed closely by Transfiguration and Potions.
His advice made sense, and she nodded, accepting it. If she couldn't decide right away, she'd try a few classes and drop any that didn't fit. After all, she only needed two electives.
Just then, Harry, Neville, and Draco returned from their shopping trip and joined the conversation. They debated Hermione's choices and shared their own elective picks.
Neville, Harry, and Draco all went for Care of Magical Creatures. But their second choices split: Harry and Draco picked Divination, while Neville, like Dudley, chose Ancient Runes.
Using the Floo Network, the group returned to the castle, unpacking their purchases. The Extension Charm was a lifesaver—without it, they'd have been lugging bags upon bags back home.
That night, Dudley called the two old wizards, Pippi-Lu and Luxi-Xi, into the study.
"Pippi-Lu, Luxi-Xi," he said softly, "do you know the Patronus Charm?"
The Patronus Charm was one of the most famous and powerful defensive spells, a cornerstone of Defence Against the Dark Arts, capable of warding off dark magic.
The two wizards exchanged a glance and said in unison, "Yes."
It was a tough spell—most Aurors couldn't even cast it.
But for seasoned, world-traveling wizards like these two, it was practically a requirement. They'd faced more dangers than most could imagine.
"Excellent," Dudley said, nodding. "Then, in the days before term starts, teach us that spell."
"As you wish," they replied.
For the next few days, the group focused on mastering the Patronus Charm. It wasn't exactly hard, but it wasn't easy either. Two things were key: intense focus and thinking of your happiest memory.
Time flew by, and soon it was the start of the Hogwarts term.
King's Cross Station—Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
Young witches and wizards swarmed the platform, boarding the Hogwarts Express.
In their compartment, they reunited with Ron, who'd been absent all summer. He was dressed in an exotic, distinctly Egyptian style. Not weird, per se—just very Egyptian.
Ron launched into an animated recounting of his adventures in Egypt, clearly having had a blast.
Here's hoping he didn't waste the whole summer, because catching up on schoolwork was going to sting otherwise.
Draco, meanwhile, wasn't with them. He'd wandered off to another compartment to hang out with Goyle, Crabbe, and their crew.
So, the compartment held Dudley, Hermione, Neville, Harry, and Ron.
Happy moments never last long. Ron was mid-story when a plump, orange tabby cat leapt onto the table, its slit-pupil eyes locked onto Ron's rat, Scabbers, with an unsettling stare.