On the way out, James saw that one of the headmaster portraits was not sleeping. The eyes of that headmaster were black, like the lanky hair that framed the white face. Severus Snape studied James coldly, only his eyes moving to follow as Filch marched him from the room.
Tina Curry, the Muggle Studies Professor, led the class briskly out onto the lawn. The day which had started rather brightly was now turning grey and blustery. Gusts of wind sprang up and flapped the edges of Professor Curry's sport cloak and the nets Hagrid was trying to hang on the wooden frame he had just finished assembling.
'Expertly done, Hagrid,' Curry called as she approached, the class trotting to keep up. 'Sturdy as a barn, I daresay.'
Hagrid looked up, losing his grasp on the netting as he did so and scrambling to catch it. 'Thank yeh, Ms. Curry. Weren't what yeh might call a challenge. Up to this part, o' course, which is a might hairy.'
Hagrid's construction was a simple wooden framework, roughly rectangular. There was another one several dozen yards away, its netting strung taut and swishing in the stiffening breeze.
'Curry's new this year, if you haven't guessed,' Ted commented to James as they gathered. 'Has some pretty crazy ideas about how to learn about Muggles. Makes a fellow wish he hadn't pushed off taking this class until his last year.'
'As if these outfits weren't bad enough,' Damien said sourly, glancing down at his shorts and socks. Every Thursday, Muggle Studies class was required to dress out in shorts, athletic shoes, and one of two colors of Hogwarts jerseys. Half the class was wearing burgundy, the other half, gold.
'You wouldn't look quite so, er, interesting, Damien, if you had some white socks,' Sabrina said as diplomatically as she could.
Damien gave her a tell-me-something-I-don't-know look. 'Thanks, sweetie. Tell my mum that next time she goes shopping at Sears and bloody Roe-mart'
Zane didn't bother to correct Damien. He beamed with annoying good cheer, obviously far more comfortable in the outfit than the rest. 'I have a good feeling about this. The breeze will air some of you vampires out. Lighten up.'
Damien hooked a thumb toward Zane. 'Why is he even in this class?'
'He's right, Damien,' Ted said good-naturedly. 'Shake out the old batwings a bit, why don't you?'
'All right, class,' Curry called, clapping her hands for attention. 'Let's look orderly, shall we? Form two lines, please. Burgundy over here, gold over there. That's very nice.'
As the lines formed, Professor Curry produced a long basket from under her arm. She paced to the head of the burgundy line. 'Wands out,' she called. Each student produced his or her wand and held them at the ready, some of the first years glancing around to see if they were holding theirs correctly. James saw Zane sneak a peek at Ted, then swap his wand from his right hand to his left.
'Excellent,' Curry said, holding the basket out. 'In here, then, please.' She began to pace along the line, watching the students reluctantly drop their wands into the basket. There was a mass groan throughout the gathered students. 'You all surely can tell your wands apart, I expect. Come, come, if we are to learn anything about the Muggle world, we must learn how to think non-magically. That means, of course, no wands. Thank you, Mr. Metzker. Mr. Lupin. Ms. Hildegard. And you, Ms. McMillan. Thank you. Now. Is that everyone?'
A very unenthusiastic noise of assent came from the students.
'Hup, hup, students,' Curry chirped as she laid the basket of wands next to Hagrid's framework. 'Are you implying that you are so dependent upon magic that you are unable to play a simple, a very simple game? Hmm?' She glanced around at the students, her sharp nose pointed slightly upwards. 'I should hope not. But before we begin, let us have a bit of discussion about why it is important for us to study the ways and means of the Muggle world. Anyone?'
James avoided Curry's eyes as she looked from student to student. There was silence but for the gusting wind in the nearby trees and the flap of the banners over the castle.
'We learn about Muggles so that we will not forget the fact that, despite our myriad differences, we are all human,' Curry said crisply and emphatically. 'When we forget our essential similarities, we forget how to get along, and that cannot but lead to prejudice, discrimination, and eventually, conflict.' She allowed the echo of her words to diminish, and then brightened. 'Besides, the non-magical nature of our Muggle friends has forced them to be inventive in ways that the magical world has never achieved. The result, students, are games so simple and elegant that they require no broomsticks, no enchanted Snitches, no flying Bludgers. The only things necessary are two nets,' she indicated Hagrid's new structures with a sweep of her left arm, then held something else aloft with her right, 'and one single ball.'
'Excellent,' Zane said ironically, gazing at the ball in Curry's upraised hand. 'I came to a school of magic to learn to play soccer.'
'Around here, we call it 'football',' Damien said sourly.
'Madam Curry,' a pleasant female voice said. James looked for the speaker. Tabitha Corsica stood near the end of the opposite line, all but cringing in her gold jersey. She wore a black sport cloak over it, tied neatly at her throat. A group of other Slytherins stood in line near her, the distaste very clear on their faces. 'Why is it necessary, exactly, for us to learn to play a Muggle, er, sport? Might it not be sufficient to read about Muggle histories and, ahem, lifestyles? After all, even if they desired to, witches and wizards are not allowed to compete in Muggle sporting competitions, according to international magical law. Am I correct?'
'Indeed you are, Ms. Corsica,' Curry answered quickly. 'And have you any idea why that might be?'
Tabitha raised her eyebrows and smiled politely. 'I'm sure I don't, ma'am.'
'The answer to your question lies therein, Ms. Corsica,' Curry said, turning away from Tabitha. 'Anyone else?'
A boy James recognized as a third-year Hufflepuff raised his hand. 'Ma'am? I think it's because wizards would throw off the balance of competition if they used magic.'
Curry motioned for him to elaborate. 'Go on, Mr. Terrel.'
'Well, my mum works for the Ministry and she says there are international laws that keep wizards from using magic to win Muggle sporting events or lotteries or contests and the like. If witches and wizards got into a Muggle sport and used any magic, they'd be able to run circles around any Muggle, wouldn't they?'
'You are speaking of the International Department for the Prevention of Unfair Advantage, Mr. Terrel, and you are, more or less, correct.' Curry dropped the ball to the ground at her feet and kicked it lightly. It rolled a couple of yards across the grass. 'To be honest, it is not accurate to say that witches and wizards are forbidden from competing in Muggle sports. There are allowances for persons of magical heritage who do wish to compete. However, they must agree to undergo certain spells that, performed upon themselves with the help of wizarding officials, temporarily nullify their magical abilities. If this were not so…'
Professor Curry produced her own wand from an inner pocket of her cloak and pointed it at the ball. '
'Well, you get the point,' Curry said, turning back to the double line of students. 'The WizardMuggle Sportsmanship Program is, as you might imagine, distasteful enough that virtually no wizards or witches have
