The same but different

Chapter 19 Progress

As a general rule, Harry didn't subscribe to any regular news services. He was featured in them enough to make his stomach turn, and even the stuff that wasn't about him was usually lies and drivel. He had other ways of getting news; honest, helpful, factual news.

The one exception to the rule was currently winging its way towards him on the leg of a beautiful barn owl, and he grinned when the owl fluttered to land on the table beside his porridge, holding its leg out. He relieved the owl of its burden, tucking a sickle into the pouch at its chest, and undid the string holding the magazine rolled up tightly.

"What's that, Harry?" Hermione asked curiously, sat across the table from him for once. Ron was a few seats down, with Seamus and Parvati; he wasn't actively hostile to Hermione anymore, but without Harry around didn't seem to know how to actually work his way into an apology. Harry figured it would all be fine once Viktor left.

"The Quibbler," Harry explained, grinning at the front cover. 'The Lost Classes of Hogwarts', certainly eye-catching. Hermione made a face, and Harry clucked his tongue. "It's got some pretty good stuff in it this month, actually. You'd like it." He showed her the cover, unsurprised when she went wide-eyed. "You can borrow it, if you want?" He'd already read the article before Luna had sent it off for her father to publish anonymously. It was well-written, explaining all the arts that had once been on the Hogwarts curriculum and now were lost to all but those who chose to go abroad for knowledge.

"This is... none of this is in Hogwarts: A History!" Hermione exclaimed, skimming the article. "I've never even heard of half of these classes!" She looked doubtful. Neville reached over to point at the notes at the bottom of the page.

"The author has left citations on their referenced texts. I doubt any of them are in the library here, but maybe you can write to Flourish and Blotts," he suggested.

The Quibbler wasn't the most reputable news source these days, often full of wild conspiracies and stories of creatures Harry didn't know were even real, but under Luna's guidance that would change. This was only the beginning; she had a whole series of articles planned, all anonymous, to point out the lack of options Hogwarts offered these days, and the lack of knowledge about the old rituals and how it was causing magic to weaken. Harry had mostly left her to it; if there was one thing Rowena Ravenclaw wouldn't abide, it was gatekeepers of knowledge. She wouldn't rest until everyone had equal access to as much information as possible, and the right to learn more about the aspects that interested them.

Aside from his own, he could see a few copies of the magazine about the hall; it wouldn't take long before things began to spread. Over at the Hufflepuff table, Cedric was showing his own copy to his friends, passing it further and further down the table as more people took interest.

"There used to be a class on Healing!" Hermione said indignantly. "And Spellcrafting! And a dozen others that all sound so fascinating, Merlin, how did people have time to study them all in just seven years?"

"They probably didn't study them all at the same time," Harry pointed out. "Pick a couple new subjects every year, pass your courses in them, learn enough to know if you want to go more in depth on the subject when you graduate. And they probably didn't spend as much time on the core subjects as we do." He would admit that nowadays there was far more to learn in the cores than there had once been, but the fundamentals were the same. If a Potions' student didn't understand how to properly brew after a hundred hours over a cauldron, there was no point in them continuing for different potions they would probably get wrong anyway. And once you knew the basics of Transfiguration, you could turn practically anything into anything else. Too much importance was placed on individual spells, these days; people completely ignored magic of intention. They'd needlessly complicated things, in Neville's oft-frustrated words. Godric had never had the most finesse in his spellcasting, but his strong will was more than enough to bridge the gap. As he had regularly argued with his wife; why bother learning eight different ways to do essentially the same thing, when you could just get really good at one and stretch it for the specifics?