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Professor Maggie Worth gazed at her Muggle Studies class. This cohort was particularly rambunctious and had grown ever more so with each passing year. Since the end of the war, Muggle Studies had become part of the core curriculum at Hogwarts. Headmistress McGonagall had insisted on it as soon as school resumed after Harry Potter’s defeat of Lord Voldemort.
Twenty-one years of progress had practically flown by, as though a Time Turner had put the following years on fast forward. Maggie Worth was proud of how well the wizarding world was integrating with the Muggle world. They weren’t revealing themselves, per se, but the Ministry had taken steps to introduce some basic Muggle technology into the wizarding world, with modifications of course.
And so these kids had grown up with telephones that forsook electric wiring for magic and other signs of a dawning wizarding technological era. No wonder the students thought they knew it all. When they were introduced to the original non-magic telephones as part of the early stages of the Muggle Studies course, they had no trouble figuring out how to use them. But that was only the spark off the Muggle Studies wand, or to use a Muggle term, as Professor Worth was fond of doing, the tip of the iceberg.
Muggle culture is so much more than mere things, she thought. That’s what I have to teach them. And I have, she allowed, with a silent, gracious nod to her imagined self. Her classes from third year onwards focused on Muggle history and culture, rather like World History classes found in Muggle schools. Today though, she was not delivering a lecture on a period in time. No, today she was assigning a group project she’d been hinting at over the past few days. It was the last day of class before her students left for Easter holiday, and in the spirit of holidays in general, she had hatched a little plan.
“All right, class. It’s time to settle down. I know you’re excited for the break from school, but don’t think it means you’ll escape a little homework for this class.” This was met with a chorus on groans only half-heartedly suppressed.
“Don’t worry; you’ll still be able to enjoy the holiday because this is due two weeks after school resumes. I’m giving the assignment now so you can have the opportunity to do some research in the Muggle world.”
“But what is the project, exactly?” This came from Scorpius Malfoy, who was seated next to his inseparable partner in crime, Albus Potter.
Professor Worth smiled wryly. “I was, in fact, about to explain that, Mr. Malfoy. You are going to divide yourselves into groups of three or four…”
At the sudden flurry of movement, she held up her hands and continued, “…after I am done explaining. Each group will be assigned a month of the year. It is up to you and your group to find and research a Muggle holiday within that month. Each group will be making a presentation about that holiday on the due date. I expect creativity in those presentations. Any questions?”
Rose Weasley’s hand immediately shot into the air. “What if two groups pick the same holiday?”
“That won’t be an issue, Ms. Weasley, as there will be only twelve groups. Unless you think we’ve lost a month from the year recently…? Good. Have at it!”
Chairs were sent flying as students rushed to form groups with their friends. Maggie Worth sighed, and retreated behind her desk. It was best to wait out the carnage of adolescent group-choosing and deal with the mess afterward.
Scorpius jabbed Albus with his wand. “Hey, grab your cousin for our third person.”
Albus looked around. “Who, Rose?”
“I know you have a ridiculous number of cousins, Al, but she is the only one in this class. Who else?”
“Shove off, Scorp. Rose! Over here!”
Rose heard her name, spun around, tripped on her shoelace, and almost fell over. Fortunately, she managed to catch herself on the corner of a nearby desk. Ouch! Memo to self: corners are sharp! Blushing and nursing a sore hand, Rose threaded her way through the chaotic classroom to where Albus sat with Scorpius. Aiming for an aloof, definitely-didn’t-make-a-fool-of-myself air, she coolly asked, “And what do two Slytherins want to do with a Gryffindor?”
“To sacrifice her to the Giant Squid, of course!” Albus replied, supplying the second half of their longtime joke. “But really, we need a third person.”
Scorpius cut in. “And you’re the brightest witch in our year. Also,” and this was delivered in a conspiratorial whisper, “the other person left was Matilda Tildrey.”
Rose unsubtly glanced over her shoulder. Tilda Tildrey sat a few desks away, ignoring the Hufflepuff boy trying to show her a piece of parchment as she stared at the back of Scorpius’ head, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. And—was that drool?
Rose turned back around. “I think I see your point.”
“Well, yeah,” Albus said. “As the Baron says, ‘Expediency always wins.’ “
“But he never pauses to explain what expediency means,” complained Scorpius.
If Scorpius didn’t know, Rose did. “It means profitable, using any means to get to an end.”
Albus clapped her on the back. “And that’s why we wanted your help. With your brains—”
“And our brawn,” Scorpius cut in, flexing jokingly, “How can our project possibly fail?”
The idea of failing disturbed Rose, but before she could say anything, Professor Worth reclaimed their attention. “When I come past your group, you will draw a piece of parchment with your assigned month from this hat.” She brandished a word and faded top hat at them. “This is a Muggle custom of random selection that I believe may have its roots in our own tradition of the Sorting Hat—but that’s a lecture for another day.”
Professor Worth began moving through the maze of desks, chairs, and students. When she reached Rose, Albus, and Scorpius, the young Malfoy did the honors.
“Well? What is it?” Albus demanded.
“November.”
Rose nodded but remained silent until the bell rang a few minutes later. Once their group was in the corridor and moving toward the Great Hall for lunch, she spoke up. “What exactly did you mean ‘my brains?’ Because if you believe for one minute that I’m going to do all the work while you two have an easy holiday, you have another think coming.”
“Rose, we’d never use you for something like that!” Albus looked flabbergasted at the very idea.
Scorpius put a friendly arm around her shoulder and said, “See, young grasshopper, it’s like this. Al and I, we like to goof around. That’s just how we are. You, grasshopper, sometimes don’t get the joke, but with time comes wisdom.”
Rose giggled as she shoved Scorpius’ arm away. “Okay, no more martial arts movies for you when you visit.”
“Speaking of visiting,” Albus said, “Where are we all going to meet up so we can get this done? My family and Rose’s are going up to the summer house.”
“Summer house?”
“It’s not as grand as it sounds,” Rose explained. “The Weasely-Potter clan all share it and sort of take turns going up. My mum does a lot of her work there. It’s really peaceful.”
“Come on, Scorp,” said Albus. He slung an arm around Scorpius’ shoulders and steered him through the Great Hall’s open doors. “Owl your parents and see if you can come!”
Three days later, Scorpius stumbled out of the fireplace, dragging his heavy trunk behind him. A tall man with messy dark hair and glasses caught him. “Hello Scorpius. How’re you doing?”
“Fine, Mr. Potter. Er, where’s Albus?”
“He and Rose are upstairs in the study. I’ll take your trunk, just head on up.”
Scorpius left his trunk in the care of his best friend’s dad and raced up the wooden stairs. When he reached the top, he stopped, confused. A long, dimly lit hall stretched away, lined with several closed doors. Which was the study?
“Rose? Albus?” he called.
The door at the far end opened, spilling bright daylight into the hall. Albus stuck his head around the door and waved him over. Scorpius came into the room and looked around, amazed. He had never seen so much purely Muggle technology in one place before. On a large mahogany desk sat a computer, a wireless telephone, and a printer.
“How does all of this work here?” he asked.
“Oh, that’s easy,” said Rose. “We just don’t use magic here unless it’s really necessary. That way we don’t have to worry about it interfering with the electronics. Plus the house was wired when we bought it. It was built by Muggles, you know.”
Scorpius, who had only interacted with computers and the like via diagram in Muggle Studies, was awed. “Can you use it?”
“Yeah, actually. That’s part of why we invited you up here.” While Albus spoke, he booted the computer. “I knew Aunt Hermione would let us use the computer for research. And then we’d also be able to do this.” He pulled out a slim plastic case.
“Oh, Al, you didn’t!” Rose exclaimed.
Albus popped open the case, pulled out the disc and spun it around his finger.
“Er, what is it?” asked Scorpius.
“Only the coolest computer game there is.”
“It’s really boring,” opined Rose. “All you do is shoot people. There’s no challenge, and the mechanics are shoddy. And you can’t even design your character!”
Scorpius grinned. “That sounds awesome!”
“Anyway,” Rose said with some frustration. “We have work to do, you know. We still haven’t picked a Muggle holiday in November.”
The computer chimed, and Rose reached across Albus to type in her mother’s password. The login screen faded away, replaced by a field of grass and flowers on a cloudy. Scorpius thought the picture was pretty, but those things on top of it made it hard to enjoy properly. “What are those little square things?”
“They’re called ‘icons,’ and when you click on them, they open different programs.” Albus moved the cursor and clicked twice. “This is for the internet.”
“Oh, like from class last year.” Scorpius nodded. “The Muggle spiderweb of information.”
“Well, kind of?” Rose replied. “I think you got a little confused. It’s sometimes called the world wide web, I guess. If you’re old. But yeah, there’s a lot of information on it.”
Albus pulled up a search engine, typed in “obscure November holiday,” and hit enter.
“Why an obscure holiday?” asked Rose.
“I dunno, I thought it would be cool. You never know what you can find.” He opened the first link. “Here we go… All Saint’s Day? That sounds boring. Look For Circles Day could be cool… Oh, no way! Sandwich Day? We are so doing that one.”
“There’s a day dedicated to sandwiches? Totally bodacious, dude!”
Rose sighed. Time to scratch Bill and Ted off this list of Movies Scorpius is Allowed to Watch, I think. “Okay, fine. Let’s do that one.” Boys.
Albus and Scorpius high-fived and opened the Sandwich Day link. Chaos ensued.
Three weeks later, Professor Worth send the October group back to their desks. “Thank you for that enlightening presentation on Mischief Night. Next, we have the November group.”
Albus and Scorpius made their way to the front of the room. Professor Worth frowned. “Where is Rose? Shouldn’t she be back from the bathroom by now?”
The boys grinned. “When she said bathroom, she may have meant kitchens. We brought a little something and we asked the house elves to hang on to it for us.”
Right on cue, the classroom door swung open and Rose’s legs and face appeared. A massive plate of sandwiches blocked the rest of her. Professor Worth took pity on the poor girl and levitated the plate onto her desk. Rose scurried to the front of the classroom to join the boys.
Albus began their spiel. “Sandwich Day, November 3rd, is in honor of a Muggle and a meal. John Montagu was the Earl of Sandwich, and he liked to gamble. Really liked to gamble. So much that he wanted a way to eat with one hand while he played cards or dice with the other.”
“In 1762, he asked a servant to make him a meal of a piece of meat between two slices of bread,” Scorpius continued. “And thus the sandwich was born. It is now considered a tasty stable in the lives of sandwich connoisseurs everywhere. There are infinite varieties, some of which we have brought for you to sample today.”
Rose picked up the thread. “The ways to celebrate this holiday are quite simple and delicious. Just make a sandwich and eat it. Better yet, share it with friends!”
All of the third years agreed that that day’s Muggle Studies class was the best of the whole year. After all, it came with snacks!