Hogwarts Subjects File

Muggle Studies — a quiet room with photographs that don’t move. “They use electricity,” the professor says. “And rubber ducks.” The Slytherins smirk. The Muggle-born smile softly. Magic isn’t the only wonder, after all.

Divination: Trelawney’s sherry-scented tower. “The Grim,” she gasps at Harry’s teacup. Ron yawns. Lavender wipes a tear. Parvati nods solemnly. Is it nonsense? Perhaps. But some predictions find you later, like a letter you never meant to send. hogwarts subjects

At nine in the morning, the Transfiguration classroom smells of polished mahogany and singed whiskers. Professor McGonagall taps her wand, and a teapot shudders into a tortoise. “You,” she says, eyes like flint, “will do better by Friday.” Muggle Studies — a quiet room with photographs

Herbology in Greenhouse Three steams with dragon dung and danger. The Venomous Tentacula lunges at Neville; Sprout just laughs, patting its leaves. Mandrakes shriek in their pots — baby ones, mewling. Students stuff wax in their ears, but the vibration still rattles their ribs. The Muggle-born smile softly

Potions, though — Potions is a cold dungeon and a hotter temper. Snape’s voice curls like steam: “There will be no foolish wand-waving.” The cauldron bubbles with asphodel and wormwood. A Gryffindor’s brew turns violet, then orange, then wrong. “Zero,” Snape says, and the word drips slower than Draught of Living Death.

Astronomy at midnight: cold stone, colder wind. The telescope shows Jupiter’s moons like scattered seeds. Sinistra points her wand at Orion’s belt. “Remember,” she says, “the stars saw magic before we named it.”

At the end of the day, in the Great Hall, candles float above house tables. A first-grader mends her quill with a shaky Reparo . A seventh-year reviews Patronus theory. Somewhere, a cauldron still smokes. Somewhere, a spell still hangs in the air, unfinished.