The Real Hogwarts Chapter 81 We Are Wizards
Jon opened the door and a girl named Hermione Granger was standing outside.
She looked at Jon, made a gesture to silence him, then grabbed his arm and led him out of the dormitory.
Jon did not resist. He followed the girl through the cold corridor and came to the end of the basement, a slightly larger room that looked like an abandoned Potions classroom.
There are already some children waiting here, all of them are first and second graders.
Most of the first-year students had confused and hesitant looks on their faces, as if they didn't know why they had to go against Dolokhov's orders and gather here at this time.
Most of the second-grade students had excited expressions. They were afraid, but also seemed to be trying hard to overcome this fear.
After leading Jon into the room, Hermione closed the door completely. Tonight was a happy Halloween Eve for the professors and students above. No one would spoil their fun by visiting these Mudbloods at this time, not even Dolohov.
"Just the seven of us? Hermione?"
The person who asked the question was also a sophomore student named Ben Thomas, a usually taciturn boy.
Hermione pushed her messy hair back behind and pursed her pale lips.
"Wes has been staying close to Brown (Mudblood Prefect) and the others since the start of the school year . We can't trust him completely."
Her words left the second-year students silent, and many of them subconsciously clenched their fists.
At this time, a first-grade child finally asked a question.
"Why are we gathering here?" the boy stammered. "For example, if Brown and the others find us, they will definitely report us to Mr. Dolokhov..."
The second years said nothing, and Hermione turned to look at the first years.
There were only eight of them, and their facial features were still very immature. If they had not displayed magical abilities, they would have just entered junior high school and started their secondary school life in Muggle society.
In fact, Hermione and the others were only one year older than them, but this extra year of experience had helped them get rid of much of the childishness of 12-year-olds.
Suffering tortures them, but also helps them grow faster.
"Because gathering, communicating, getting along, and being free are the rights we should have!"
Hermione looked at the freshmen and said something that was so outrageous in the education of the Mudbloods.
The first-year students, who had been domesticated for a while, all looked at Hermione with their mouths open.
Perhaps in the first few days after arriving here, they will miss their parents every night, miss their previous society and life, and cry for their own experiences.
But two whole months of working and living in the castle had gradually made them numb.
At the age of 11, they are supposed to be starting to form their initial worldview and values about the world, but they are being taught all day long that they are inherently inferior to other people and that their lifelong goal as slaves should be to better serve the purebloods. Few of these children are not affected by these words.
If they are not born inferior, why are they discriminated against like this?
If they were not of dirty blood, why couldn't they hold a wand and learn proper magic like other children?
If they were not born inferior to humans, why did they have to endure such a slave-like life?
Children's minds are still very simple. They will think about these questions themselves, but they cannot give themselves a reasonable answer.
They didn't do anything wrong, so why did they have to suffer this?
Is it really like these professors and gentlemen in the castle say, just because they are of dirty blood and born lowly?
"No one is born humble!" Hermione looked at them and said firmly, "We are all equal. The history of the wizarding world is never like what the professor said, that it is only the history of pure-blood wizards. We can only leave our names in history books by serving them!"
"Mudblood, this is an insulting name. It does not define people like us! Seven years ago, Hogwarts Castle did not have any blood academies for purebloods, half-bloods, and mudbloods. For the past thousand years, all of us have only had one common name - wizard!"
"We are wizards."
Her voice was not loud, and her tone was not passionate, but everyone present could hear clearly what she said, and could also feel her incomparable firmness and recognition of what she said.
The first-year students were dumbfounded. After a brief silence, a boy named Colin spoke in a low voice.
"But the professor said that only people with bloodlines are worthy of being called wizards..."
"How are blood people any different from us?" Hermione asked.
The boy couldn't answer her question because the teachers who taught these things never said that they were any different from pure-blood half-bloods, but just repeatedly emphasized their inferiority.
"Bloodline is just an excuse. It's a reason they use to enslave us. There is no high or low among people. If we are really born inferior, then why don't they dare to let us get the wands and learn real magic? Because they know very well that every word they say to us is a lie, a lie used to make us believe it and dare not resist."
Hermione's words frightened and encouraged the first years at the same time.
They had received nothing but put-downs in this castle, and today was the first time anyone had said such things to them.
"But, but what's the use of knowing all this?" a girl sobbed, "We have no way to resist, we can only be their slaves..."
"Someone is resisting." Hermione looked at her seriously. "I picked up a discarded newspaper and saw in it that there is another Hogwarts in the wizarding world. In that school, everyone is equal. Even people like us can get a wand and learn magic. There, everyone can drink hot pumpkin juice and milk, eat grilled sausages, steaks, puddings and cakes. When it comes to festivals, everyone will celebrate together, everyone will receive Christmas gifts, and everyone will be blessed."
Her words made every child who heard them show a longing expression on their face. It was like a dream life.
But in fact, what Hermione described was not what she saw in the newspaper at all. How could the Daily Prophet, which was controlled by Voldemort, write such an article?
She might have really learned about the existence of another Hogwarts led by Dumbledore from a newspaper she picked up, or from senior students whose memories had not been erased.
Those words she just said were all the beautiful things she had imagined with all her might.
Jon, who had been watching from the sidelines without saying a word from beginning to end, knew clearly that she had not said a single wrong word. Everything she could imagine existed in that exiled carriage.
Gatherings like today's cannot change the situation of these children in the castle at all. Without wands, without magic skills, and with their movements and communication restricted, they have no chance of overthrowing oppression on their own.
But she had to give these children hope, even though they were just a group of children now, unarmed and unable to put up any resistance.
But we have to let them know that they are equal, right?
