[History] Ignorance and prejudice and fear walk hand in hand (all years)

Louise Ellington had gone through many changes lately. First Sam had entirely unexpectedly proposed to her, she had promoted her assistant to run the gallery so she could apply at Hogwarts and now she was in fact a member of the Hogwarts staff. She had been teaching for a little more than a month now but was still nervous about her new job. She felt quite out of her comfort zone and it didn't even relax her that so far the lessons had been okay and that she had spent countless hours making lesson plans, charts with an overview of history events and had tried to come up with creative lesson plans.

Already in her first week Louise had arranged a banner above the blackboard which had the sentence 'The future builds on the foundation of the past.' written in silvery letters on dark blue fabric. It had become some sort of a habit that she paced up and down the classroom until the first students would arrive, somewhat enjoying the sound of the one plank that was creaking under her weight. She had redecorated the classroom over the weeks. Louise did not want to simply lecture about historic events. She wanted to show her students history in a more lively way. The desks were arranged in the shape of a horseshoe now, her teacher's desk was quite close to the blackboard and so there was some empty space in the middle of the classroom that she could use when she needed.

Her plan for today's lesson was to cover the Medieval era to demonstrate how the wizarding world had changed and, from there, move on to explain the Statute of Secrecy which she wanted to cover properly. It was still one of the most important aspects of their lives, after all. The Statute of Secrecy defined who they were. She was all for keeping it up but she also thought that it was important to know both worlds – the magical and the muggle.

She had used the middle of her classroom to create the illusion of a stake there to illustrate today's topic. As the first students entered the room, Louise greeted them with a smile and waited as they all had settled in.

“Good morning class,” she said, her gaze wandering across the room. She knew some students by name by now but there were still some where she wasn't entirely certain that she could put the right name to the faces.

“Which dark time of wizarding history do you think we'll cover in today's lesson?” she asked, gesturing at the illusion of the stake. “Does anyone want to make a guess?”

Did Pixie like History of Magic? She was pondering that very question as she wandered to class, munching on a chocolate frog she'd bought in Hogsmeade last weekend. They'd been half price because they were close on the sell-by date so the charm didn't work so well anymore, but they still tasted great, she though. She was currently pretty popular in the Gryffindor common room after she'd left a dozen chocolate frogs out for anyone who wanted to take one. As she approached the classroom she heard the familiar creaking that told her Professor Ellington was walking up and down, waiting for the students to arrive.

Bother, she was early! Pixie made a point never to get to class early, lest she look like she was actually eager to learn something, so she slowed her pace as she finished the chocolate, standing just outside the door as she finished the last mouthful. After a few other people had walked past and gone in first, Pixie judged it was safe to go in now. She cultivated a fairly disinterested expression and briefly contemplated walking straight through the illusion in the middle of the room, before deciding there weren't enough people there to find it funny. Instead, she took a seat at random and dropped her bag onto the floor, not troubling herself to get out a quill or parchment unless she was asked.

Professor Ellington. Pixie wasn't yet sure what sort of a teacher she was. There were rumours, of course; Pixie had heard the first of them on her very first evening; because whenever there was a new professor there were always rumours. The first was that she was a reformed Death Eater who'd been let out of Azkaban to teach this class, which was obviously ridiculous. Professor Ellington was no more a Death Eater than Pixie's mother. Then there was the one that she was dating Professor Dickinson, which Pixie had giggled at but then started to wonder. She had taken to watching them at mealtimes because they sat next to each other, but that didn't necessarily mean anything because Flitwick often sat next to Mcgonagall and that didn't mean...

Eew.

Pixie decided she didn't want to imagine that, either. Maybe she would pay attention, just to take her mind of those nasty mental images. She zoned back into the lesson right as Professor Ellington gestured to the stake and invited students ot make a guess, and the fact that she wasn't sure what they were guessing didn't deter her for a moment. "Hallowe'en traditions!" she exclaimed cheerfully "and...vampires? Are we going to be doing the history of vampires today?"

Professor Ellington was alive. That was better than professor Binns, Freddie assumed. Besides she wasn’t that old. He wasn’t sure what to think of her yet, so far she had neither proven to be a really bad nor a really good teacher. However, that might also be because the class was, well, dull. It was hard for any teacher, no matter if bad or good, to get Freddie interested in History of Magic. Most things that were covered in class had happened so long ago that not any living person could possibly have witnessed any of that.

As he entered the classroom, Freddie yawned and sat down as far away from the teacher’s desk as he could. He stared at the illusion of the stake for a while, finding it a rather impressive display of their professor’s magical abilities but not exciting enough to feel compelled to actively participate in class.

Pixie, however, seemed to be a lot more awake and eager to share her opinion. Freddie grinned at the fellow Gryffindor as she spoke of Halloween and vampires. He could tell that professor Ellington did not intend to speak about Halloween but the alternative felt too boring to actually waste a thought on.

“Medieval Ages?” he still said, sounding as bored as he felt and stifling another yawn. He knew that witches had been burned on stakes in the Medieval Age but if he was asked to put year numbers to that, he had no clue. It hat just been a long, long time ago as far as he was concerned.

Pixie laced her fingers and stared at them, thinking that it might have been a good idea to get some parchment out after all. Then she could have drawn pictures or something until she found out what they were meant to actually be doing today. She really hoped it was going to be a history of vampires, that sounded interesting and a lot more exciting than just sitting writing notes as they were given yet another dull lecture.

Hopefully Professor Ellington wasn't going to be a lecturing sort of teacher. Ths illusion in the middle of the room was definitely a good indicator of that, though Pixie wasn't naturally inclined to think the best of any professor this early on. Instead, as other students offered suggestions (none so exciting as hers, and really, Pixie felt that the most interesting suggestion should really be the one that was the one that got taught) she finally decided to get a quill and some parchment out of her bag.

Not fresh parchment, but a tatty roll of assorted scraps and sizes, some already written on, that she used for a variety of purposes including doodling and taking notes. Obviously, she was going to claim she was taking notes, but instead she started drawing a portrait of the new teacher. It wasn't exactly unflattering, but it was nothing that Professor Ellington would have wanted to display in her gallery either. Pixie had years of experience in this level of misbehaviour and thus whenever the poor teacher looked in her direction her quill was laying on her desk and she had an expression of polite interest on her face.

Ugh...mediaeval times though? That sounded like something that was going to have far too many facts to learn. She hoped Freddie was wrong. Turning over the almost completed portrait, she scrawled No way. Vampires for sure! and rolled the parchment into a ball, which she quickly tossed in his direction with a practised flick of the wrist. Pixie felt it was very unlikely that her action would be noticed.

History of Magic was one of Perpetua’s favourite classes. She liked to read about the past centuries, she liked to go to museums and, sometimes, she liked to imagine how it would be to live in a different time than the one that she happened to live in.

Upon entering the classroom the first thing that Perpetua noticed was the illusion of a stake and she wrinkled her nose in displeasure, resulting in her glasses hopping down to the tip of her nose. She quickly dropped her schoolbag onto a table and pushed her glasses up again before sitting down.

Freddie was quick to answer the professor’s question in the briefest possible way and the girl frowned. That seemed so typical for Gryffindor boys. They were cheeky and really not studious at all.

While the girl did not enjoy speaking up in class she still felt that she needed to offer a little more than Freddie had - if only to show the Gryffindor how dumb he was.

“The stake indeed suggests that we are going to study the Medieval Period, also known as Middle Ages,” Perpetua began, her voice not really carrying through the entire room. “That period lasted from the 5th to the late 15th century and…” she paused briefly, looking from the professor at the stake, “wasn’t really a good time for witches and wizards.”

Perpetua, at least, wouldn’t have liked to live in that time. Living with the risk of being tortured and burned on a stake did not really seem very promising to her anyway.

Louise smiled to herself but it was not exactly a happy smile. She knew from experience that students were rarely very interested in History of Magic. Most of them had gone through several years of magical education already and had likely been bored to death in this class. Louise hoped that she could make the class more interesting but to do that she needed her students to be at least half willing to pay attention. If nobody listened to her she could tell the best tales and get no recognition for them.

The professor shook her head in slight amusement when she heard Pixie’s guess on what they’d be covering. “Sadly no,” Louise said, her voice sounding light and relaxed. “While Halloween traditions and vampires are both interesting topics to talk about, that's not our lesson’s content, I’m afraid.”

She nodded at Freddie, hoping to encourage him to contribute more than two bored words. However, the Gryffindor seemed to have overexerted himself with this contribution already. Still, he had made a correct guess and that was something she needed to comment. “That’s right, Mr. Snyder,” she, therefore, stated. “From how you say it you are unaware of how interesting these centuries were.”

The next student to speak up was a Ravenclaw whose voice Louise had rarely heard since she joined the staff and she stepped a little closer to the desk of the girl because she could barely hear her.

“That’s all correct,” Louise complimented the fifth year as she finished. Then, bowing down to the girl, she added in a low conspiratorial voice “please, speak a little louder next time. Otherwise I feel old and wonder if I need a hearing aid.”

Louise flicked her wand and the information Perpetua had just offered appeared in glowing letters behind the teacher’s desk.

“I’m sure most of you have heard about what happened to magical people during the Middle Ages,” Louise said, flicking her wand once again. This time she pointed it at the stake that then glowed brighter and the illusions of flames grew bigger, turning the whole classroom in a warm orange light.

“Imagine how it was back then...” Louise said, her voice sounding serious, “If you could do magic you were in danger of prosecution.”

Louise walked through the illusion of the stake, looking as though she was catching fire now. “Muggles - or those witches and wizards that have been good at hiding their abilities - wanted to make magical people confess what they were. How did they do that? And, more importantly, does anyone have an idea why they did it? There’s more than one answer to this. Please, do feel free to engage in a conversation.”

No vampires. That sucked, but it was hardly a surprise. History of Magic didn't exactly have a reputation for being an exciting class which, Pixie mused, was probably why it was a compulsory class up until OWL level. Otherwise nobody apart from a few ultra-bookish Ravenclaws would ever sign up.

Apparently Professor Ellington thought the mediaeval age was an interesting time. Pixie begged to differ. She couldn't figure out what could possibly be interesting about a time that had no wireless, only the most primitive potions to cure sickness and chocolate frogs hadn't been invented yet. She sunk down a little lower in her seat, her mind beginning to wander still further. Had Freddie seen the piece of parchment? Was he going to write a reply? Naturally she didn't bother to look in his direction; that was an amateur mistake. Indeed, she actually wrote Middle Ages (much easier to spell than mediaeval!) on the side of the parchment that didn't have Professor Ellington's portrait.

She was staring vaguely into speace and didn't realise at first that the flames were increasing. When she noticed, she stared directly at the illusion, wondering what spell had been used to make it work. That would be a really fun thing to do in the common room to scare the first years! Not in a mean way, but just so they thought there was a fire in the wrong place for a few seconds, just long enough so they could wonder what was going on before she vanished it and made them laugh. It was probably pretty complicated though...

Despite only half-listening, she did register that questions were being asked. Witch burnings. Pixie had read about this before - or at least, her father had read the book with her during the time she'd been home from Hogwarts. She knew the answers...or at least some of them, but strangely, her mind had wandered into another direction. "People were scared" she said "or at least, the muggles were scared because they thought we were more powerful than them, and when people get scared they want to hurt the thing that scares them. It's like the war really, isn't it? I mean, that was really people who were scared of muggleborns learning magic, as if it was going to take it away from them. It's all stupid. People should learn to get on with each other." She finished with a shrug, as if she'd just solved the entire human condition in a single pronouncement.

For someone who loved the ins and out of history, memorizing dates, and sorting through fact and fiction when it came to the narratives people wrote in the history books, Jae was not in the mood for today's class. Whether it was because he had slept poorly last night or because he hadn't done well at Quidditch practice yesterday, he wasn't sure, but he slumped in his seat, his arms across his chest, his brown eyes hard as he read the quote on the board and saw on the illusion of the stake, he was already half hoping this class was over so he could escape back to his dorm. And while he normally liked Professor Ellington's classes, her first question set him on edge.

What time wasn't dark in wizarding history? Honestly. When he had been a first year muggleborn, determined to catch up to the rest of his classmates with their historical knowledge of what the hell the wizarding world eve was, Jae had scoured book after book. And coming from his very 'muggle' point of view, there weren't many bright spots in their history. Some Gryffindors weighed in and a Ravenclaw whispered something Jae didn't even hear from where he was sitting on the side of the classroom and he sighed heavily.

"They did it because they were afraid," Jae spoke up, a hard edge to his voice, a frown pulling his brows together. "They did it because they wanted to grab power where they could. It's no different than what everyone did a few years ago to muggleborns," he said. Not that he had personally experienced it, but he had read enough about it to feel almost personally slighted.

Rowen would rather set her hair on fire than learn about muggle history, which said a lot because, unlike how she felt about muggles' plight, Rowen actually cared about her hair. It was beautiful and curly, and she would never tie it up behind her head. The wooden stake in the middle of the room was absolutely not beautiful. She found the whole ordeal rather disgusting, and while it should have taught her a moral lesson, it just drove home the notions she had been raised on. Muggles were evil, awful magic stealers, they coveted what the witches had, and if they couldn't have it, they would kill the witches they preyed on. They were bad people, and they were a plague on Hogwarts.

When Jae spoke up, Rowen stopped reading ahead in her textbook and looked up at the Hufflepuff. It was refreshing to hear a muggle-born with a useful opinion. Fear was a powerful motivator, as Rowen was quite familiar with, and his comment amused her. "Muggles are always looking to grab power." She replied, even though she was smart enough to know there wasn't a chance that Jae and her would see eye to eye on this subject, Rowen did find his opinion interesting. He was willing to admit that his muggle ancestors were afraid of magic, and instead of living peacefully, they attacked.

In Rowen's esteemed opinion, they got their comeuppance, and payback was a witch.

From the corner of his eye, Jae saw Reinhardt's reaction, stopping to look over at him, but he tried not to care. It wasn't over that he spoke up in class with basic answers, he didn't care much for showing off, but today felt different. And he wasn't afraid to speak his mind. Especially when he saw that haughty look on her face. Jae's eyes narrowed, his mouth tightening as she replied, almost as if she thought she was agreeing with him.

He sat up a little straighter and turned his body towards her. The way she said 'muggles' irked him. His whole family were muggles, everyone he had ever known since coming here to Hogwarts and he didn't appreciate what she was implying. Even if he did agree to some point. "It's not only muggles who are power hungry," he said, speaking more to her than to the class in general. "Purebloods cause just as must damage and drama as anyone else. Just look at the 'Muggleborn Registration Commission' nonsense if you need an example," Jae added.

While there had never been a chance that Rowen would truly value the Muggle-born Hufflepuff's opinion, she could see the truth in it. Wizards had raged an entire war over one man's need for power, but it wasn't the first time, and she wasn't naive enough to think it would be the last. As long as there was power to be had, people would always fight over it. Rowen stuck up her nose as he brought up the Muggle Registry. "The implementation of the muggle-born registration was rather banal," Rowen sighed, her quill flourishing as if it sensed her boredom in the conversation.

"However." The Ravenclaw asserted, not that anyone had dared to interrupt her (she assumed), "If they had not been infiltrating the magical world in the first place, they would not have been asked to register." As if it were as clear as day, Rowen nodded sharply. The little witch was brilliant, gifted even, but on this subject, she clearly lacked perspective. Rowen knew what her family had taught her, and she didn't know how to wear her bias anyway but proudly.

History of Magic was often quite fascinating, Meredith found, and that was even more true since Professor Ellington had begun teaching them. She was a gratifying change, and certainly much more interesting and engaging than their previous professor.

However, the illusion of the stake in the middle of the classroom unnerved her, and the Ravenclaw witch had the distinct feeling that she wouldn’t enjoy this particular lesson very much. She kept quiet despite knowing the lesson would be about the medieval ages. Meredith liked learning, liked history but she liked learning about nice things… The middle ages were not nice at all. She listened to Perpetua as a ghost of a smile appeared and vanished just as quickly, feeling how her heartbeat quickened at the mere mention of a stake out loud.

She watched as the professor made the illusion of the stake glow brighter and the illusions of flames grew bigger. Her frown grew as the whole classroom was now bathed in an orange light. Perhaps she was too sensitive, but she couldn’t stop herself from tearing up as the professor stepped into the illusion. The Quidditch Captain kept quiet as classmates began offering suggestions. Of course, they were right. People tended to be afraid of what they couldn’t understand. Her frown grew even bigger as some likened it to the war and muggleborn students. Perhaps that was true as well. Rowen even accused muggles of being power-hungry. Her mother hadn’t been grasping for power when she was murdered by wizards. Her mother had spent her life trying to help others, and she embraced magical folk when she found out about magic being real. One of the Hufflepuffs argued that purebloods were just as bad. Her father had been pureblood… but that didn’t matter though, he was murdered too.

A few tears began to fall and Meredith tried to wipe them away before anyone noticed. This was too much. She wondered if she could claim a headache and excuse herself from the remainder of the lesson. But she didn’t want to miss the lesson either. She had to block them out somehow, ignore them entirely.

“I’ll never pretend to understand why,” Meredith began in a wobbly voice, before taking a deep breath in and out to calm herself. “But witch hunters used thumb-screws and heated leg irons to try and get a confession, adding that they would be shown mercy if they confessed. A lie, of course.” Meredith bit down on her lip, sniffing slightly before continuing. “They also used a jabbing needle to see if the wizard or witch was desensitised to pain. Of course, the spike retracted into the handle, so no one did feel pain. The swimming test was another. If they floated they were a witch, if they sank they were innocent... But still dead, either way.” Another tear or two dripped down on the floor before she had a chance to stop them in their path. That last one in particular really was ridiculous and unjust.

"What?" Jae interrupted in disgusted disbelief halfway through her sentence at the word 'infiltrating'. "You have got to be kidding me, do you actually believe that bullshit?" he threw at her, leaning forward in his chair, not caring about the curse that had just fallen from his lips. He didn't know Rowen very well and he was starting to suspect he didn't want to, but there was no way anyone could still believe that absolute load of crap the Ministry had been touting. Right?

"I'm muggleborn," he told her point blank. It was probably beneath her to know that about him and he didn't particularly care about himself, but he had to know just how insane this girl was. "So you think I'm 'infiltrating' the magical world? This school?" he asked, incensed at even the idea, not caring if this was not a tangent the professor had meant to take, not caring about the other Ravenclaw girl who was sniffling over witches who died years ago that she didn't even know. He glared at Reinhardt, his eyes dark and cold. "You think that means you're any better at magic than me?" The more he said, the angrier he got, but it was a quiet sort of rage, contained. He didn't know why but he was leaving the door open for her to say anything, say something to prove his suspicions wrong.

Killian was frustrated, again.

He respected Professor Ellington, in that she was alive, and actually appeared to listen to student answers, and asked questions, and was generally an acceptable teacher. But History of Magic was so frustrating a subject. It didn't matter! How could any of this matter? At some point he had to adopt that in his head, when they had reached the point in history Killian knew the Triangle Trade was happening, and wizards did nothing. Again when they had covered the 1940s, and on and on and on. The self-centeredness of wizarding history disgusted him so much.

He was holding his tongue, trying not to start again on his favourite pastime of well, actually-ing the lesson. This was, what, right when the Crusades were happening? Wizards could fight back so much better than the Jews and Muslims between here and Jerusalem. Or was it the bubonic plague, which wizards apparently had immunity to? How many deaths had there been? What had wizards done to prevent any of them? What goodwill did they deserve from normal society?

Killian's lips were curled in, trying not to meet anyone's eyes, knowing he would burst into some rant if he did. Emerson mentioned the swimming test, he could hear the tears in her voice, and he wanted to roll his eyes.

If they had not been infiltrating the magical world in the first place, they would not have been asked to register. The bickering between Reinhardt and Jae Kim was familiar background noise, but that was -- Killian saw red.

He twisted around in his seat, ignoring that Professor Ellington would absolutely see him disregarding the lesson. Jae was talking back already, had barely finished before Killian lay into her. "Cool, hate-speech against Muggleborns is a great look, Reinhardt. Why don't you say the slur? We all know you want to." This was not perfectly behavior, he was aware, but who cared? "You're a bigot who's only good at wandwork because Daddy paid for a tutor. The fact that you stand by the registration act five years after it was revealed as a tool of a fascist racist government is embarrassing, and you should be embarrassed. Why would anyone want to infiltrate the magical world? It's got people like you in it."

As a rule, Ben wasn't a fan of History of Magic. In his opinion fact and figures could be skewed in any which way to fit whatever narrative someone was trying to sell. It was an easy class, however, and he knew the importance of at least being aware of what the past represented. He could respect it, really, even when it was boring. He took a moment to glance around the room, taking a seat next to Donnelly and dropping his bag on the floor. He wasn't really paying attention to everyone settling in but he did see the stake projection hovering ominously in the center of the classroom.

A hot topic, then. Fantastic.

It was like watching someone fall off a broom, almost. He winced once the debating started and then quickly devolved. He glanced back at the Professor, then at Donnelly, before settling back on Buckley, Kim, and Reindhardt. He was pretty sure this wasn't what the Professor had intended with the subject matter and now it seemed pretty late to stop. The urge to speak was present and pressing but he also didn't want to make things even worse. Kim and Buckley were incensed (with admittedly good reason) and Reindhardt seemed misguided. It reminded him of some of the nonsense his mother would go off on a tangent about whenever she went to visit family. He knew he'd gotten off lucky in terms of what some of his classmates had to go through and just life in general.

But it was difficult to see it devolve into something like this, from one badly worded comment. Baiting the girl into saying something she shouldn't wasn't something he agreed with, though. Killian had a right to be upset, but someone couldn't be corrected when you spoke to them like that. He doubted the Ravenclaw would back down now, or even be willing to listen to another side, now that he'd thrown the gauntlet.