The summer of 1991 was drawing to a close.
On the second-floor balcony of a detached house in Hampstead, London,a young, brown-haired girl sat cross-legged on the floor, holding a children's encyclopedia in her hands, with a thick dictionary beside her.
A few soft clouds floated in the azure sky, and the breeze blew the white clouds slowly up and down. The sunlight seemed to give the clouds a golden edge, making the pages of the book shine brightly, almost dazzlingly.
The only sound in the world seemed to be the sound of pages turning.
The paper was new, and the sound was crisp.
Hermione Granger had loved reading since she was very young. Before, she could only flip through the pictures in the books, but after learning to read in school, she could appreciate the fun of books more deeply and became more addicted.
Compared to other children's entertainment, reading does not disturb parents at work and does not require the participation of peers.
Therefore, she will not be excluded.
Hermione's parents ran a dental clinic. Being a dentist was a great job, with a good salary and plenty of vacation time, but summer always brought a constant stream of activity. The phone at home was always ringing. They had to buy medicine for the next month, organize patient files, and liaise with insurance companies. After all, it was their own business, so they had to personally oversee everything, and occasionally, they had to deal with children with cavities...
As she flipped to the next chapter in the encyclopedia, she heard the phone ring downstairs again.
"Wait until summer vacation's over..."
Hermione muttered softly, her fair face wrinkling as if remembering something.
She would be going to school after summer vacation.
"North London College, Westminster School..."
The little girl silently recited the names of these schools, closing her book and dictionary. Following her mother's advice to protect her eyes, she looked up every half hour.
The sky was bright, almost blindingly bright, and soft clouds moved slowly. A growing black dot caught her eye.
"That's..."
Hermione's narrowed eyes quickly widened, and she couldn't help but scream out in surprise: "An owl?"
...
"Owl."
The call of a barn owl echoed outside the village of Ottery St. Catchpole in Devon. The sound was steady, and the flapping of its wings made a slight sound in the wind, revealing that it was a seasoned owl messenger.
There was a rustling in the bushes of Stoat Hill; it was weasels and goblins fleeing.
The Diggory Mansion was quiet and leisurely in the afternoon, and the slightest sound was clear. The owl folded its wings and perched on the branch of a beech tree in the backyard, waiting quietly.
Steady and brisk footsteps could be heard quickly on the cobblestone path not far away.
The man who greeted the owl was tall and handsome. He was dressed in a bright yellow robe on this midsummer afternoon, holding an overly long broom in his right hand, wearing leather boots, and sweat was all over his forehead.
"Long time no see, Nibs."
"Coo-woo." The owl named Nibs lowered its head and put down the envelope it was holding.
"Here's the list for the new school year, let me see..."
Cedric opened the parchment envelope bearing the Hogwarts crest, skipping over the usual start-of-term notices and notes. He jumped straight to the textbook list, reading aloud: "Magic Potions and Spells, Standard Spells: Level 3, Intermediate Transfiguration..."
Last year's list had been Standard Spells: Level 2 and Elementary Transfiguration.
He was more curious about the electives than the required courses.
"Seeing the Future Through the Mists, A Runic Dictionary, A Simple Introduction to Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies..."
Cedric's gaze shifted to the last line, and he raised an eyebrow in surprise. "The Muggle Studies textbook hasn't been finalized yet. Will Professor Melvin distribute it after the start of the semester?"
"New professor..."
Before he could finish his words, the sound of owls' wings hooted again, and the bushes on the mountain rustled.
Several black dots gradually became clearer.
Cedric couldn't help but close the envelope and look up.
Three or four owls flew past, skimming over Stoat Hill and heading towards the other side of the village, towards the Burrow.
Including their youngest boy, there would be four red-haired Weasleys at school this year. That would surely be quite an interesting scene.
...
The Leaky Cauldron, located on Charing Cross Road, had a dingy sign and a narrow storefront.
As a gateway between the British wizarding world and the Muggle perspective, a wizarding tavern founded in the 16th century, it has been around for nearly five hundred years and has undergone many changes, a history older than the Statute of Secrecy. This meant that in its first two hundred years, it had hosted countless Muggles and witnessed many wonderful stories.
Of course, the current owner, Old Tom, was no relative of the witch who founded the tavern.
"Daisy Doddridge..."
Melvin sat in a corner of the tavern, examining the paintings on the wall with interest. The once vibrant oils had faded, now coated in a grayish smudge.
A subtle magic shone on the painting's surface, proving it was once a magical portrait. If properly maintained, the witch might still be able to chat and laugh with the patrons.
Melvin sipped his mojito; it was much better than he'd expected.
The aroma was fresh, the alcohol light.
It didn't quite match the decor.
The food was actually quite good. There were no fish heads stuck on pancakes, no soup made from fish juice, and the signature fish and chips were quite good, completely defying the stereotype of a food desert. The
Leaky Cauldron also offered accommodations. The rooms on the second floor were comfortable and spacious, with 24-hour hot water. Old Tom was welcoming, well-informed, and always available to help with any questions.
However, Melvin opted for a chain hotel three blocks away.
The ambiance was truly unsatisfactory. The old, solid wood furniture, neglected over time, was covered in fine cracks, its crevices filled with grease and stains, eventually turning into a layer of unidentified wax. The entire first floor was filled with an indescribable odor.
The tavern's owner, Old Tom, had no intention of cleaning up. He was leaning against the bar, reading a newspaper and casually chatting with a few elderly witches.
In the distance, the cover of the Daily Prophet could be seen: two witches of different appearances clashing with each other. The headline on the front page was clearly visible.
"Boss vs. Subordinate: Dolores Umbridge, Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office, publicly refutes Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Law Enforcement; Wizengamot vote on Muggle Studies."
That news item was from a few days ago.
After convincing several veteran wizards from the Examinations Authority, things didn't go as smoothly as expected. A group of pure-blood advocates, led by Dolores Umbridge, emerged from nowhere and claimed that changes to the curriculum required the Ministry's approval.
Because the witch with the baby voice spoke so harshly, Mrs. Marchbanks didn't bother to debate her and simply called the Wizengamot to a vote.
Next came the internal affairs of the British Ministry of Magic, which Melvin did not participate in.
"Chief Wizard Dumbledore was the first to express his support for the reform of Muggle Studies teaching, seconded by Madam Marchbanks, and many members of the Wizengamot agreed...
" "Umbridge protested, but the protest was invalid, hehe...
" "Ms. Amelia Bones announced in court that the issue had passed smoothly, and Minister Cornelius Fudge did not comment on it."
Old Tom snorted. "Dumbledore agrees, and now Umbridge has the right to oppose it? I don't know what this pink toad is thinking."
"That's right!" The old witch next to him agreed.
"When did the Ministry of Magic get involved in Hogwarts affairs?"
"That's right!"
Old Tom grinned, looking like a shriveled walnut. He turned the page of the newspaper and his eyes were immediately drawn to the headline, a look of interest on his face.
"Why do witches trouble witches? The origins of the Wizengamot's internal strife, the root of all conflict. Award-winning journalist Rita Skeeter exclusively reveals the speech by new Muggle Studies Professor Melvin Levant that sparked the unrest: "I Have a Dream!"
"A thousand years ago, four great wizards founded Hogwarts. Today, we are all gathered here for this school.
This ancient castle, like a beacon, has shown the way to thousands of young wizards wandering the magical wilderness, lost and bewildered. Its arrival was like a joyous dawn, ending the long night of wizarding ignorance.
Yet, two thousand years later, we must face the tragic reality that wizards still remain mired in ignorance..."
It seemed like something profound.
Old Tom read with increasing fascination.
Melvin sat quietly in a corner, where he could hear the conversation at the bar without attracting attention, and just caught Old Tom's whispered words.
Of course, those wizards, older than a certain headmaster, wouldn't be won over by a single speech; they had merely passed the induction exam. The rest was that Ms. Marchbank was dissatisfied with the Muggle Studies curriculum, which was being taught to her peers, and wanted to see how a young man could change it.
The course content, the chosen textbooks, the results, and the impact...
The cocktail was still halfway in the glass, and as she swirled it with her fingers, the liquid swayed, clear and transparent. The light refracted through the glass and the liquid, reflecting into her dark eyes, revealing a shifting, unpredictable shape.
It was as if a deep pool, flowing with a profound and obscure substance, lay beneath them. Dumbledore probably hadn't anticipated that the renowned journalist had infiltrated the Ministry of Magic meeting room and even recorded his speech, publishing it directly in the Daily Prophet's supplement.
But it was a gift, a perfect confirmation of his suspicions.
"The wizard's soul..."
Melvin pondered the matter for a moment, then took up his glass and emptied it.
By the time Old Tom finished reading the article, the young wizard in the corner had quietly left.
Melvin crossed the lobby to the open space behind the bar, where he found an unused trash can. Following the magical fluctuations, he quickly noticed an unusual red brick above it.
This type of magic wasn't very concealing, consisting mainly of a Muggle-Repelling Charm and a weak Confusion Charm. If a Muggle accidentally stumbled in, they'd quickly become uneasy and, subconsciously, leave as quickly as possible. The remaining magic was a Traceless Extension Charm, combined with a few Transfiguration techniques.
The magic technique wasn't difficult, but the concept was ingenious.
Similar designs can be found in wizarding settlements around the world.
Melvin took out his wand and tapped the red brick. After a few seconds, the brick loosened and shrunk into the wall. Then the entire brick wall began to shift, revealing a hole in the middle. The hole grew larger and larger, and soon, a wide path was revealed.
It led to Diagon Alley.
...
On the north side of Diagon Alley, at Flourish and Blotts.
Melvin wandered between the bookshelves.
The bookstore manager followed behind, a warm smile on his face. "Professor Lewyn, it's nice to finally meet you. I've read your speech; it's so emotionally sincere and well-reasoned, it's truly moving...
" "Our bookstore has a long-standing partnership with Hogwarts. No matter how rare the books the professors choose for their textbooks, we can provide a stable and sufficient supply, and guarantee regular replenishment every year."
Melvin remained unmoved. Judging by the magical feedback, the manager's emotions weren't as volatile as he let on.
He reached out and pulled a beautifully bound book from the shelf, flipping open it.
"Mundane Philosophy: Why Muggles Don't Ask the Truth,"
author Modix Egger
, the bookstore manager immediately introduced. "A sharp eye, Professor Lewyn. Modix Egger was once Professor of Muggle Studies at Hogwarts. In this book, he deeply explores the phenomenon that Muggles generally ignore the existence of magic, even when their excuses are completely untenable. Just like the three monkeys on the cover, they turn a blind eye to magic, turn a deaf ear to it, and know but don't speak of it." "
Melvin turned directly to the publishing information on the last page of the book.
"Publisher: Dust and Mold Publishing House
Publication Date: 1969-09-01"
The bookstore manager immediately quieted down and looked away silently.
Melvin felt a little funny: "It has been piled up in the warehouse for twenty years. Just like the name of the publishing house, it is covered with dust and mold, right?"
"This is the style of DF Publishing House. It does not pursue bestsellers, but explores the truly profound essence of things."
Melvin suddenly felt a sense of respect: "Really? What is their latest book?" "
It went bankrupt."
"..."
He paused chatting and began to look through all the books related to Muggles in the bookstore.
Influenced by the war more than ten years ago, the atmosphere in the entire British wizarding world is relatively conservative. Muggle-related reading materials are mainly investigative reports and autobiographical novels. Popular science books are either superficial or outdated. Only a few articles published in magazines are valuable, but they are not systematic and cannot be used as teaching materials.
Seeing that he didn't move, the bookstore manager asked tentatively: "Haven't you found suitable teaching materials? There are still some books in the basement library. If you need them..."
"No need."
Melvin closed a recent magazine. The title of the page happened to be an article by Kerrydee Burbagi, "The Preparation of Witches to Enter Muggle Society."
He thought for a moment, turned around and asked: "Can you get books from Muggle publishers?"
"Of course, I can..." The bookstore manager hesitated.
"Have you heard of the "Children's Encyclopedia"? "
——
"The Leaky Cauldron in History"
The Leaky Cauldron was founded by Daisy Doddridge in the early 16th century at 1 Diagon Alley.
In 1692, the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy was implemented, and Minister for Magic Ulric Gamp allowed the pub to remain open. In gratitude, the Leaky Cauldron introduced a new beer, Gamp's Aged Social Ale. It was so unpalatable that even with a 100 Galleon bounty, no one could drink a pint.
In the late 19th century, the Muggle government planned to renovate Charing Cross Road. The then Minister, Faris Spavon, adhered to the secrecy regulations and took no measures to save the pub. The wizards of Diagon Alley spontaneously organized an action, using a large number of Memory Charms to erase the memories of all those involved, and even sneaked into the Prime Minister's residence to modify the design drawings. As a result, the Leaky Cauldron was saved.
(End of this chapter)