93 CH93 - Ignatia Wildsmith

The second-year Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors entered the History of Magic classroom noisily, curiously ooh-ing and aah-ing over its changed appearance. The large lecture hall had been shrunk considerably, leaving only two rows of elongated semi-circle tables behind. Before, most chose to sit as far away from the blackboard as possible. Now, that option had been taken away from them entirely.

The rustic mauve curtains shrouding the windows had been torn down and replaced by a much lighter lavender variant, giving the room a desperately needed sense of brightness. A wall previously taken up by a musty bookshelf full of untouched tomes was gone, substituted by a series of pedestals adorned by marble busts of famous historical figures.

The message was clear—the History of Magic course was about to change.

As everyone shuffled around in their bags to retrieve their textbooks, gossip regarding the latest addition to the Hogwarts staff began anew. Technically, this was their second lesson with their new instructor, Alexander Dupont. However, considering their first meeting had consisted solely of the Professor's self-introduction and an overview of how the course material would be revised, the novelty had yet to wear off.

As if summoned by the chatter, Dupont emerged from the adjacent office with a smile, clearly trying to put names to the faces he had yet to grow familiar with.

"Alright, settle down!" he said calmly, a swish and flick of his wand levitating a piece of chalk up to the board. The man himself lazily perched on top of his desk, choosing to face the students rather than the slate at the front.

"Let's jump right into it! The Statute of Secrecy!" he began as the words etched themselves onto the chalkboard. "Who can tell me something about it? Let's see... You! Yes, you! Please remind me of your name whenever I call on you."

The girl he had pointed at jumped, stumbling over her words in embarrassment. From beside her, Edmund stifled a grin. He had gotten to know Romilda Vane well during his last year, and he immediately recognized the wide-eyed awe on her face.

'Looks like Crouch is going to be the new resident crush,' he thought amusedly.

"I—It was signed in 1692?" Romilda tried hesitantly.

'Dupont' stared at her with a raised eyebrow, beckoning with one of his hands.

"Oh!" she realized. "Romilda Vane, Professor!"

"Thank you, Ms. Vane!" Dupont commended. "A good effort, but not quite correct. Anyone else willing to help out their classmate?"

Ben raised his hand, being prompted to speak shortly thereafter. "Ben Cooper, sir. The Statute of Secrecy was signed in 1689, but was enforced and passed in 1692."

"Correct. 5 points to Hufflepuff!" Dupont praised. "But while I appreciate the factoid, I was more trying to gauge the class' feelings about the statute than anything else. Go on, don't be shy. There are no wrong answers!"

"It keeps us hidden from the muggles," a bold pudgy-faced boy from Gryffindor was the first to reply.

"It prevents wizarding interference in muggle affairs," Jeremy noted, thinking of the topics that Cynthia regularly discussed on the Wizarding Wireless.

"It's a necessary precaution for muggles and wizards alike," Cecilia chimed in.

Satisfied, the Professor raised his hand for silence as the chalk screeched behind him, quickly writing down the responses word for word.

"Mr. Ganders, Mr. Todd, and Ms. Burke," Dupont recited slowly, a slight grin growing. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but all three of you were brought up in the wizarding world, is that right?"

The trio looked confused at the question but nodded despite that fact.

"Hah! How ironic," the Professor chuckled as he shook his head. "Funnily enough, it was also the pureblood families who were the staunchest opposition to the Statute of Secrecy when it was first proposed—a stark contrast to today's political climate."

The class burst into chatter at that proclamation, but Dupont continued undeterred.

"After all, most of them were wealthy enough to be unconcerned by the prospect of discrimination from their muggle peers. To them, the statute was an economic blow more than anything, representing an end to their dealings with the muggle nobility, a source of much of their wealth at the time," he explained. "Conveniently, many 'proud' wizarding families, including the Malfoys, the Notts, and the Snydes seem to have 'forgotten' that their ancestors used to serve as court magicians and wizarding advisers of the Kings and Queens of Europe during medieval times."

The room fell silent, save for a few students shuffling uncomfortably in their seats.

'Makes sense,' Edmund confirmed, thinking back to his trip with McGonagall, where he had seen a magical artifact disguised within the crown jewels display.

"Regardless," Dupont clapped his hands to dispel the tension, "that's not the topic I was trying to get into today. The Statue of Secrecy, the arguments around its contents, the meetings of the world leaders that led to its formation... It's a lot! Far too much material for your second year of History. The point I wanted to convey is that the Statute of Secrecy was a highly controversial, radical step to solve a problem that was rapidly growing out of hand. That problem being?..."

"The witch burnings," Edmund answered solemnly.

"Yes," Dupont sighed somberly. "The witch burnings. A horrible time for the wizarding world, characterized by a sense of panic and restlessness that made its home in every magical's heart. Or, well, most magicals' hearts... Now! If the Statute of Secrecy was the last resort to prevent something like this from happening, you should be able to infer that there were also other measures that came before it."

"I won't ask you to answer me in this case. I've learned that you're all woefully ignorant when it comes to almost everything except Goblin rebellions," the Professor said lightly, trying to get everyone to relax.

It worked perfectly as the class broke out into giggles on cue.

"Ignatia Wildsmith! A famous alchemist who operated in the early thirteenth century. Many of her accomplishments tend to be overshadowed by Nicholas Flamel's, but she remains famous as the inventor of Floo powder," Dupont introduced. "Now, muggleborns and muggle-raised of the classroom, put your hands up for me, would you? Don't be shy. Put them up!"

About half the classroom raised their hands, Edmund among them.

"Now, keep those hands up if you think stepping through a fire is one of the most irrational forms of transport you can think of!" the Professor said sarcastically.

Everyone laughed, even the purebloods.

"It's silly! Everyone knows it is! So where did the idea come from?" Dupont proposed. "As magicals, we had many ways to avoid witch burnings. Those skilled enough to apparate were never in danger, to begin with. The Flame-Freezing charm was another alternative that made the fires no more harmful than a breeze. But what about the others? What about those who could not apparate, had been separated from their wands, or were children under 11? What of them?"

He paused for dramatic effect before revealing the answer theatrically. "That's where Floo powder comes into play. For several decades, just about every witch and wizard on the planet always kept a concealed pouch of Floo Powder on them. If they were unfortunate enough to be tied to the stake, they would whisper their desired destination, the fire would turn green, and they would make a grand escape."

Edmund's eyes widened at the novel information, as did those of all the other students.

"Smart, right?" Dupont asked rhetorically. "Of course, the method was not fool-proof, but nothing in the world is."

He turned to the muggleborns of the group, who had contemplative looks on their faces.

"Many of the magical world's traditions are archaic. Most are in dire need of being updated. However, logic is prevalent in everything humans do, whether muggle or magical. The next time your mind goes to how ridiculous something about the wizarding world is, think about it. Is it truly foolish, or is there some reason behind it that you're just not understanding?"

*-*-*-*

- (Scene Break) -

*-*-*-*

"That... was... brilliant!" Hermione squealed.

The others in the Transfiguration courtyard ignored her, having grown numb to her constant ranting by this point.

"It's a lot of work, is what it is," Ron grumbled beside her. "An entire roll of parchment as homework on the second day? The bloke's barmy, though I should've known that from that french name of his."

Harry remained quiet, content to silently adjudicate the never-ending arguments between his two closest friends.

Hidden nearby, Edmund grinned.

He fully understood why Dumbledore had given Marvolo such a hard time about Binns' dismissal during the Board of Governors meetings. The ghostly Professor had been horrid, of course. But in Dumbledore's eyes, if Voldemort was so eager to be rid of him, it meant he was planning something alarming with his replacement.

And the headmaster had been correct.

Crouch had done nothing radical as of yet. For now, his actions were only intended to get the people on his side. But eventually, he knew that the man had the potential to become the mouthpiece of the dark lord's propaganda machine if he played his cards right—all while acting as his eyes and ears at Hogwarts.

'First the Wizengamot, then the Board of Governors, and now Hogwarts. Marvolo has his fingers in just about everything already.'

"I wonder what's next?" Edmund murmured.