bacchusnovels Chapter 452 Hermione's Example of Learning by Analogy
Chapter 452 Hermione's Example of Learning by Analogy
Chapter 452 Hermione's Inspiration
"Miss Granger, please concentrate."
Hearing Professor Phillips' voice, Hermione, who was lost in thought, snapped out of her reverie, paused for a moment, and then quickly lowered her head.
I quickly grabbed a pen and started taking notes.
Sean stared at Hermione, his tone remaining indifferent.
Where was I?
Hermione stammered, "Well, you were just talking about—Muggle—technological advancements." Her voice was a little shy, but she seemed somewhat at ease being called on so suddenly.
Sean nodded, his eyes showing little emotion. "Yes, Muggle technology is advancing. Hopefully you'll be more focused next time." He paused, then continued, "Gryffindor lost three points."
Hermione's face flushed instantly. She had intended to say something in her defense, but when she met Sean's icy gaze, the words caught in her throat. She had rarely seen Sean so stern, even so strangely cold, which left her somewhat at a loss.
In the end, she lowered her head and said nothing, only sighing silently in her heart.
Seeing Hermione, the best student with the closest relationship with the professor, receive such "special treatment," the other young wizards were also shocked—the order and focus of the entire class instantly improved by more than one level.
Sean glanced around the classroom, nodded in satisfaction, and continued lecturing.
"Technological advancements in Muggles bring not only convenience but also profound impacts on social structures. Technology makes Muggle life more efficient, but at the same time, it also makes them neglect many social issues, especially the rights of vulnerable groups."
He glanced at the class again, his gaze finally settling on Hermione: "For example, the poverty and injustice in Muggle society, and how Muggles treat lower-class workers, can remind us of these things."
Sean paused, then slowly drew out his words, "The current state of house-elves."
Hermione, who had been looking somewhat dejected, suddenly raised her head, her eyes instantly lighting up.
Sure enough, the professor still had feelings for her—this stirred up a complex mix of emotions within her.
So, she unconsciously sat up straight, waiting for the professor to continue.
"The low-skilled laborers of Muggles do not appear out of thin air, but are the product of history and power structures."
"Centuries ago, the Industrial Revolution swept through the Muggle world. The invention of machines increased production efficiency, but it also caused many farmers to lose their land and be forced to work in factories. Their lives were controlled by factory owners, and their working conditions were extremely poor."
Sean stopped and scanned the classroom with a sharp gaze, as if trying to observe the reactions of each young wizard.
"In Muggle history, there was a time when workers worked up to sixteen hours a day, but their wages were so low that they couldn't even afford to eat. Children were forced to work in mines and factories, becoming the cheapest labor force. They had no rights, no voices, and were only exploited and oppressed."
The classroom was quiet; even the students who usually whispered were silent.
Hermione frowned, as if she had already connected these things with the plight of house-elves.
"But even in such dire circumstances, some Muggles stood up."
"The workers began to unite, form unions, and fight against the factory owners for better treatment. Strikes, marches, and petitions—these actions were not smooth sailing, and were even accompanied by bloodshed and sacrifice, but in the end, they won the protection of labor laws—working hours were shortened, wages were increased, and the working class finally gained some of their basic rights."
"This history tells us that no right is gained through charity, but through struggle. The efforts of these Muggle laborers were a significant force in changing history and a pursuit of fairness and dignity."
Immediately afterwards, Sean tilted his head slightly, his gaze falling on Hermione, his tone becoming even more serious.
"This raises a question: when we face the problem of keeping house-elves, can we also learn from this experience?"
1
"Does this process require the house-elves to make their own sounds?"
What price should those who speak on behalf of others pay?
Admittedly, Sean never really cared whether the rights of house-elves were "normal".
Ultimately, he wasn't a house-elf; whether their treatment improved or whether they decided to defend their rights was irrelevant to him.
They are all trivial matters.
Moreover, the existence of house-elves has a profound historical background, accompanied by complex social structures and cultural heritage. Attempting to judge the right and wrong of it is tantamount to deciphering an account book that can never be untangled.
Therefore, the only person Sean truly cares about is Hermione.
To put it more bluntly—what price will Hermione pay to advance the rights of house-elves?
Sometimes, Sean has to admit that he's more like a devil.
The supplicant prays to the demon, who then takes the opportunity to make a deal with them, granting their wishes at an extremely high price—perhaps a memory, a vision, or even a part of their soul or body.
For example, the previous academic year.
Hermione paid a heavy price to save Buckbeak...
So, what about this academic year?
A week slowly passed, and finally, the day that everyone at Hogwarts had been waiting for arrived.
That morning, when the students went downstairs for breakfast, they discovered that the auditorium had been completely transformed overnight.
The walls were covered with huge silk banners, each representing a house in Hogwarts: Gryffindor with a red background and a golden lion, Ravenclaw with a blue background and a bronze eagle, Hufflepuff with a yellow background and a black eagle, and Slytherin with a green background and a silver boa constrictor.
Behind the teacher's desk hung the largest banner, which featured the Hogwarts emblem: a lion, an eagle, a snake, and four other symbols intertwined around a large letter H.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor table, with Fred and George close behind them.
This time, the twins behaved unusually, whispering and discussing something mysteriously.
Ron saw it and went over—he knew this wasn't a pleasant matter, I admit, George said tearfully to Fred, "but if he doesn't talk to us directly, we can only send him the letter, or just hand it to him. He can't keep hiding from us forever."
"Who's hiding from you?" Ron said, sitting down next to them.
"I hope you can avoid us," Fred said, looking rather unhappy and reluctant to be disturbed.
"What's not going well?" Ron asked George.
"It's because I have a meddlesome, silly brother like you," George replied.
"Do you two want to participate in the Triwizard Tournament?" Harry asked. "Want to sneak in?"
"I asked Professor McGonagall how the warriors were chosen, but she wouldn't tell me," George said angrily. "She just told me to shut up and focus on teaching my raccoon transformations."
"Do you know what the Triwizard Tournament is all about?" Ron asked thoughtfully. "You know what? I bet we could participate, Harry. We've done so many dangerous things before—"
"You guys didn't do this in front of the referees, did you?" Fred interjected. "McG said the referees would score the warriors based on the quality of their performance in completing each task."
"Who's the referee?" Harry asked.
“Oh, the headmasters of the participating schools must be members of the judging panel,” Hermione replied—everyone turned to look at her in surprise. She added, “Because in the 1792 tournament, the chicken-bodied, snake-tailed monster the warriors were trying to capture went out of control, rampaging wildly, and all three headmasters were injured.”
Hermione noticed everyone staring at her, so she put on an impatient expression, as if it were only natural for her to know these things. "It's all written in *Hogwarts, A History*," she continued, "but of course, that book isn't entirely reliable. Perhaps it would be more accurate to call it *A Revised History of Hogwarts*, or *A Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts, Covering Up the School's Dark Side*."
"What are you talking about?" Ron asked, but Harry seemed to already know what Hermione was about to say.
Sure enough, Hermione was just waiting for this question to be asked—she cleared her throat, ready to explain.
"Didn't you understand what I said?" Hermione looked at Ron seriously, then said in her usual tone, "Actually, I was thinking that what Professor Phillips talked about a few days ago might help us better understand the selection and challenges of the Triwizard Tournament."
Ron frowned slightly: "What? You mean what does house-pockets have to do with the Triwizard Tournament?"
Hermione shook her head, raising an eyebrow slightly, quite excited: "Not entirely, Ron. Have you considered that what the professor said about the social structure of Muggles, especially the parts about the working class and labor rights, might have similar power structure issues hidden behind the Triwizard Tournament selection process? For example, do the champions truly represent their schools, or are they merely passive participants, with some hidden force determining their fate?"
Harry and Ron were both stunned, completely unexpected that Hermione would think in this direction.
Even if Sean were here, he would probably find it somewhat objectionable.
Linking the three-way battle to the issue of house-to-house Pokémon and discussing whether the participants were "truly voluntary" is indeed somewhat unconventional.
However, none of them have truly experienced it yet.
When Harry "voluntarily" becomes a champion a few days later, he might vaguely agree with what Hermione said.
After all, it's often difficult to truly empathize when something hasn't actually happened to you.
Hermione continued, "Professor Phillips talked about how Muggle workers fought for their rights and ultimately gained basic protections. The struggles and sacrifices in that process were very important and gave me an insight—perhaps the Triwizard Tournament itself requires us to think about 'who can represent whom,' and whether such representation is fair."
She paused, calming her tone slightly, "After all, the Triwizard Tournament isn't just a simple competition; it's about honor and the school's reputation. But whether it truly represents the students' wishes and fairness is also worth considering. Perhaps we should not only focus on the competition itself, but also on the fairness of the competition format, whether it truly reflects the equality and dignity of each college..."
"..."
Upon hearing this, the three ultimate philosophical questions about life involuntarily came to mind for those around them:
who am I?
where am i from?
Where should I go?
By evening, the auditorium entrance was packed with people.
The deans of each college are directing their students to line up.
"Weasley, straighten your hat," Professor McGonagall said sternly to Ron. "Miss Pettier, take that ridiculous thing off your hair."
Parvati frowned unhappily and took the large butterfly headdress off the end of her braid.
"Everyone, follow me," Professor McGonagall directed. "First-year students, in front—don't crowd—"
The students filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle.
As dusk fell, the air grew crisp and cool, and night was descending. A bright, translucent moon hung in the sky above the forbidden forest.
Harry stood between Ron and Hermione, in the fourth row from the front, and he saw Dennis Creevey standing with the other first-year students, his body trembling with excitement.
"It's almost six," Ron said, glancing at his watch and looking at the driveway leading to the front door. "How do you think they'll get here? By train?"
"I don't think so," Hermione replied.
"How did it come about? A flying broomstick?" Harry looked up at the star-studded sky and guessed.
"I don't think it would come from that far away—" Hermione shook her head.
"A door key?" Ron said. "Or maybe they can apparite—perhaps in their place, apparition is allowed for people under seventeen?"
"How many times do I have to tell you that you can't Apparate on Hogwarts grounds?" Hermione replied impatiently.
They excitedly scanned the gradually darkening area, but saw no movement.
Everything was quiet and peaceful, just like usual.
Everyone started to feel cold.
They really wished they could hurry. Perhaps the foreign students were preparing for a dramatic entrance. Just then, Dumbledore, standing in the back row with the other teachers, shouted—
"Ah! If I'm not mistaken, Beauxbatons' representative has arrived!"
"Where?" many students asked eagerly, looking in all directions. "There!" a sixth-grade student shouted, pointing to the sky above the Forbidden Forest.
A colossal creature, much larger than a single flying broom—or perhaps a hundred—was rapidly skimming across the deep blue sky, flying toward the castle, gradually growing larger and larger.
"It's a dragon!" a first-year student screamed, too excited to know what to do.
"Don't talk nonsense, it's a house flying!" Dennis Crevey shouted.