"So what do you think of this?" Ron says to Sirius, once all the hubub of the letters arriving and the reveal of the prefects has died down.
Sirius, still holding one of the copies of the textbook list - when Molly Weasley is in charge of buying everyone's books, you don't need three copies of the fifth year, even if your coursework and Hermione's differ slightly - narrows his eyes at the list.
"Well," he begins, "to my knowledge, Solus was never a Death Eater, so he's at least not openly terrible."
"Glowing seal of approval, there," Ron says.
Sirius shrugs one shoulder. "He's just enough older than me that we never really interacted," he says. "My first year was his sixth or seventh. Ravenclaw, prefect, snotty prick. Like a bleached out Snivellus."
That doesn't fill you with confidence. You say, "He was against the dementors being posted to Hogwarts. It sounded like he's been fighting with Fudge over them for a while."
"Was he, now?" Sirius says. "That's new. Not that I remember him much before Azkaban, mind." He looks over the book list again, frowning. "He's got a reason for refusing to put a textbook on the list, you can bet on that - I've never seen anyone get away with 'texts will be provided' before. It might not be blood supremist rhetoric, but I wouldn't bet on it."
He folds the list in half and hands it back to Ron, who takes it and stuffs it in a pocket. Hermione says, "Even if the source is biased, I'm sure we'll be able to learn something from his class."
"Even if it's just how the other side thinks, you mean?" Sirius says. "Be careful about that. That's one of the ways they get into your head - one minute it all seems reasonable, and before you know it you're off floating Muggles over bonfires with the rest."
You don't wince at the reminder of the Quidditch World Cup, but only because things have gotten worse since then. You just say, "Thanks, Sirius," and the three of you take your leave.
no subject
Sirius, still holding one of the copies of the textbook list - when Molly Weasley is in charge of buying everyone's books, you don't need three copies of the fifth year, even if your coursework and Hermione's differ slightly - narrows his eyes at the list.
"Well," he begins, "to my knowledge, Solus was never a Death Eater, so he's at least not openly terrible."
"Glowing seal of approval, there," Ron says.
Sirius shrugs one shoulder. "He's just enough older than me that we never really interacted," he says. "My first year was his sixth or seventh. Ravenclaw, prefect, snotty prick. Like a bleached out Snivellus."
That doesn't fill you with confidence. You say, "He was against the dementors being posted to Hogwarts. It sounded like he's been fighting with Fudge over them for a while."
"Was he, now?" Sirius says. "That's new. Not that I remember him much before Azkaban, mind." He looks over the book list again, frowning. "He's got a reason for refusing to put a textbook on the list, you can bet on that - I've never seen anyone get away with 'texts will be provided' before. It might not be blood supremist rhetoric, but I wouldn't bet on it."
He folds the list in half and hands it back to Ron, who takes it and stuffs it in a pocket. Hermione says, "Even if the source is biased, I'm sure we'll be able to learn something from his class."
"Even if it's just how the other side thinks, you mean?" Sirius says. "Be careful about that. That's one of the ways they get into your head - one minute it all seems reasonable, and before you know it you're off floating Muggles over bonfires with the rest."
You don't wince at the reminder of the Quidditch World Cup, but only because things have gotten worse since then. You just say, "Thanks, Sirius," and the three of you take your leave.