2 Kids Who Are Not Harry Potter And The Sorcerer's Stone

Matilda and Mudbloods

It was two days before the Christmas holidays began, and Draco and Hermione were in the library taking refuge from the cold outside. Hermione was searching a large book called Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century for mention of Nicholas Flamel; she'd combed the library in all her free time for the past few weeks, but he remained frustratingly elusive. Draco had his nose buried in Matilda, and was paying her very little attention. When she couldn't find Flamel here, either, she slammed the book shut in frustration.

Draco nearly fell out of his chair in alarm.

"Don't do that," he said crossly.

"Sorry," she said, not feeling sorry at all. He gave an almighty sigh and closed the book, as if it pained him enormously.

"What's the matter?" he asked. She sighed.

"Nothing," she said at once. She wanted to ask Draco whether he knew Nicholas Flamel, but he'd adopted a policy of either feigning deafness or mocking her whenever she mentioned Snape or the trapdoor.

"Then why are you disturbing my reading?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. She smirked.

"You know, it's the same story no matter how many times you read it," she said wryly.

"Shut up," he muttered. "There are loads of reasons to read a book more than once."

"Oh, I agree," she said. "I just can't see why you'd read that book more than once."

"Because it's brilliant," he said flatly. "There's something I don't understand, though," he added, after a moments' hesitation. She frowned slightly.

"What's that?" He paused, seemingly thinking deeply about something.

"Well...in the story, she can move objects with her mind, and everyone acts as if she's brilliant. But really, most of us can move objects with our minds, can't we? I mean, I know it's much easier with a wand, but I've always been able to make objects move around, as long as I concentrate hard enough on them. It seems like an odd thing to write a children's book about." Before she could think better of it, Hermione laughed.

"I'm sorry," she said hastily. "It's just...I didn't think--" she broke off, fighting to control herself. Draco looked at her as if he were concerned for her sanity.

"What's funny?" he asked, a bit shortly.

"I just didn't think--but it makes sense you wouldn't--"

"If you don't hurry up and explain, I'm going to start practicing the full Body-Bind Curse Quirrell's been talking about on you," Draco told her. At this, Hermione sobered up at once.

"Draco, the people in this story are Muggles," she explained. "They can't move objects with their minds, so to them it really is remarkable." He frowned slightly.

"Why wouldn't the author just say that, then?" he asked.

"Because the author is also a Muggle." Draco looked stunned.

"I--really?"

"Er...yes, really," she said, slightly puzzled.

"I've never read a Muggle book before," he said, now studying her intently. She could tell he was thinking very hard about something.

"What's with you?" she asked. "You did know Muggles read books, didn't you?"

"Of course I do," he said. "It's just...how'd you get this, if it was written by a Muggle?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, my parents are Muggles," she said impatiently. Draco was looking at her as if he'd never properly seen her before.

"Are you serious?"