Out with the old PV Ming Reopened Closed

Ming could honestly say that this was one of his more productive spells, having answered several sets of physics questions correctly. The Chinese boy had discovered circuits in late September, and had been struggling with it ever since: perhaps the lack of practical demonstrations and experts available to consult did not exactly help his chances of tackling this in the most efficient way.

For once though, it was not standards or his ambition that fuelled him into studies. No, it was something much more primal than that. See, the fact of the matter is this. Between the Wargames, catching up with the customs of the new world, and self-learning defence theory, Ming had not been giving his non-magical studies sufficient attention. Which would have been fine, were it not for the tiny fact that he had exams to give over the summer break under his mother’s watchful and exacting standards.

Ming’s mother scared him much more than the newest nonsensical threat that the school could present to him. Therefore, when the bespectacled first-year was interrupted as he was, Ming looked up at the offending human being with the kind of passing interest one might give a pedestrian on the road. Or a two-headed goat.

“Circuits,” he answered mildly. A tilt of his head, as the Slytherin regarded this interloper, attempting to draw conclusions based on little things about his dress. Was he dressed like Ming was: in his school robes? How neat was his appearance, how well-kept? What quality of fabric made his clothes?

“More specifically, calculating the voltage in certain circuit settings.” Ming continued, the slightest hint of impatience creeping into his voice as he bulled past the second question and into one of his own. “I beg your pardon, but do I know you?”

The young Slytherin boy looked completely bewildered. One would hope new students would pick up some sense by the end of their first year, but evidently the latest generation of snakes needed to have it knocked into them, and their peers simply weren't doing the trick. Perhaps they knew that the unkindness would be good for them in the long term, and elected instead for kindness, knowing that it set them up easily for later sabotage.

"Circuits?" George repeated back breathlessly, his face riding through all five stages of grief. He stuttered a few moments before forging himself once more into a scathing stare. "You can't be serious. Circuits?"

George was dressed in his school robes. Their appearance was immaculate. It was quite easy to keep them in one piece, what with magic, but the lad obviously put some effort into making himself look good. Even under the robe, his clothes were crisp and clean. Nothing ostentatious, but simple and neat. There was even a hint of makeup on his face if Ming would look closely enough to see it. It did not match his frantic, harried mood at the moment.

"George Henry, third year, Hufflepuff, pleasure is mine," the older boy said, giving the summary of an introduction in place of a proper one. The urgency of the situation was clearly lost to the younger lad, but he hoped he could remedy that. "Why on earth would you be studying Muggle physics while you're in Hogwarts? Especially circuits, of all things? You do realize that you can't actually use electronics here?"

"You should try not to look Muggly. If you need to know why, then you should obviously be studying History of Magic instead," he said, nodding down to the papers on the table. Circuits. Completely mental. He leaned down to offer a bit more unsolicited advice, trying to keep it quiet, as this was the library, and harassment should be kept to a minimum volume within the library. "This will literally never help you. There is a reason they don't teach circuits at Hogwarts, and it's the same reason they don't teach Charms at Oxford."

The bespectacled first year turned to the Hufflepuff, his frantic panic at his upcoming examinations set aside in order to focus on this curious spectacle. The upperclassman seemed put-together enough, and of acceptable breeding given his general level of self-grooming. The quality of the fabric he wore – Malkin’s? – were not custom-made and left something to be desired. A half-blood at least then, Ming judged. And not one from an impoverished background.

How interesting…

“Hui Ming, Slytherin first year.” His introduction was an intentional mirror image of the third-year's, his enunciation carefully crafted to match the typical ‘posh Londoner’ accent now that the panic was cast off his mind. There was a very slight quirk on his brow and the smallest of frowns on face; but Ming listened to the thoughts of the upperclassman. Not often did people discuss his studies with him, given that he was known for reading everything from Runic magic all the way to Paradise Lost and all the variations therein. Silence met the Hufflepuff’s advice. Ming looked at the upperclassman for perhaps a beat too long. Ming wore no makeup, but people claimed he was still distractingly pretty.* Combined with perfect posture and enunciation, restrained emotional range, and plain but obviously expensive clothing; his demeanor had an off-putting effect on many.

“Very good, Mr Henry.” Ming responded finally. “Then I pose this question to you: why would I be studying circuits, knowing full well that it would only help in Oxford?”

*Nod to a previous thread, and foreshadowing Ming going to get Lovely Creature as his year-2 ability
@George Henry

George hummed at the introduction. This one was posh. Probably some old-money Londoner who was used to the world playing on his rules - but he had no idea just what he was wandering into! Well, the Hufflepuff could remedy that. Of course, the first year was hardly receptive to George's advice. He was too full of himself to see that he was doing wrong. That patronizing 'very good' took George aback, the older boy raising his brow and blinking in surprise at Hui's question.

"Because you are an idiot," George said. It was lucky that George was not a Ravenclaw, as he had no patience for riddles. He took the seat opposite Hui and opened his book, flipping through the foreword to the start of chapter 1. "Because you think that wizard school is just some kind of diversion from your path to greatness at Oxford, of all places? Why on earth would you want to go to Oxford when you are at Hogwarts."

He had a few more guesses in him just in case he was off-track with his first two. This one was based upon his own experience of dealing with a mother that wanted all too badly for him to be a normal child as well as a wizard. Of course, in George's mind, the two options were incompatible. He would never dare say out loud that wizards were better than Muggles, or anything, but he thought they were different enough that it was wise to keep the worlds separate. "Or is it just because your mum will be mad at you if you don't do your muggle homework?"

A surprised half-laugh escaped the first-year before he was properly aware of it, forcing Ming to bring up a hand to cover his face until he had better control of his faculties. People generally did not call him an idiot to his face, simply because his reputation made such a remark seem outlandish. That Mr Henry saw fit to do so was amusing, to say the least.

“I cannot say that you are wrong,” the Chinese boy replied eventually, when he was quite certain of his ability to maintain decorum. In many ways, Ming had remained a foolish child, and he was working on fixing that. Neither could the first-year deny that his eventual intentions involved returning to the world of his birth. “Though perhaps, you are not quite as right as you might think.”

There was a small pause, as he considered how much to share with this odd, belligerent, amusing fellow.

“You’ve been a part of this tomfoolery longer than I. Tell me, Mr Henry.” He tried to present it as a puzzle, for that was the best way Ming himself would be able to grasp a position different from his. “Why is it that magical children in non-magical families are made aware of Hogwarts at their eleventh birthday?”

George laughed with Hui at his reaction to being called an idiot. Well, anyone who was able to laugh at that, rather than threatening him or trying to hurt him, surely had at least a decent sense of humor. His face returned to a more proper neutral as Ming informed him that he was not 'quite as right' as he might think. The Hufflepuff mustered every ounce of willpower he had to keep from rolling his eyes. He hated all the riddle-talking and vagueness of the so-called smart kids.

Referring to the wizard world as tomfoolery was baffling to George, but bafflement never gave him pause for long. If you stopped to be baffled at every little thing, you wouldn't make it through Diagon Alley before you dropped out of the wizarding lifestyle. "Because a magical child, by then, will have done magic and will need to go to Hogwarts to get educated. Otherwise they won't know what they are. And won't know how to use their magic. Which is both dangerous, and a complete waste," he said. What a nightmare it would be if muggle-borns were just left to fumble in ignorance, not knowing the true extent of their gift!

George paused, trying to think about what the little Slytherin could possibly be getting at. "Why would you want to go back?" George said. He thought of his brother. "There are people who would kill to be part of all of this. You know the big secret of the world, and you care about circuits?"

Wizards, to George, were what mattered. Magic mattered. The greater mysteries of circuits, electricity, science, chemistry, physics... they were all basically nothing when put next to magic. He'd give up all the cars and televisions in the world if it meant that everyone could be 'in on it'. But no amount of circuits could be sacrificed for that. He was in and the muggles were out, and that was that. But Ming clearly just did not realize that. George tried to think of something to say to convince him of all of that, but instead, he just stood there and stared in astonishment.

The Slytherin first-year nodded when Mr. Henry had recognized why 11 was the latest age at which muggle-borns could be contacted, but seemed to miss what he was getting at. Muggleborns were contacted only as late as they could be, not when they first showed signs of magic.

It was as if the magical world was trying to be exclusionary; not to mention that common sense seemed to work differently here than on the outside.

He considered for a moment what the best thing to tell the upper-year Hufflepuff. He could simply say that it was expected of him. That wasn’t incorrect. But it felt untrue. Because the fact of the matter was that Hui-Ming did want to return to the mundane world. He did want to live up to the expectations his family had for him to be a respectable member of muggle society. It felt like a duty, like a responsibility; like he would fail at life if he did not.

But words to explain such a feeling eluded him, so he instead opted for a version of it that was simpler, and easier to explain.

“Tell me, Mr. Henry, are you familiar with the concept of noblesse oblige?” a small pause, but then he continued. “Yes, magic is terrific and fantastic. Yes, I am lucky to be able to casually produce miracles beyond the ability of so many people. It is precisely because of this reason that I must be the best version of myself that I can be. After all, it is the duty of those blessed with greatness to look after those not so blessed.”

A small pause; piercing dark eyes looking at the Hufflepuff appraisingly. “Or do you think it’s a waste to bring the wonders of muggle technology to this world, and the miracles of magic to the mundane one?”

George couldn't help it - when the words noblesse oblige came out of Ming's mouth, George's eyes rolled. He knew what it meant, obviously, but still. There was this eleven year old in front of him acting like there was simply no English words to represent the complex depths of his noble obligations. He felt an urge to introduce the boy to Ivy, so she could see how she looked when she was in her first year, so proper and prissy.

"And the best version of yourself ignores every book in the magical library to study circuits? I'd hate to see the worse versions," said George. Even in the analytical organic circuitry of this strange Slytherin's brain, he had to realize that muggle technology was not an optimal use of a wizard's potential. He had said it himself - they could work miracles. That was more than one could do with anything battery operated. "All because you feel bad for Muggles, then?"

The Hufflepuff boy was staring incredulously down at the little firstie. He had never met such an intelligent, well-spoken lost cause. "Of course it's a waste. Have you seen what happens to the cell phones that some of the other muggle-born kids brought in? It's not like wizards don't use them because we don't like them. It's an actual, physical incompatibility. It won't work like it does in your textbooks around actual magic, Mr. Fang. And I don't know if you remember the last times we tried to bring magic to mugglekind, but it tends to get a bit flame-y, in one direction or another."

He took a breath, realizing that he had gotten a bit heated. The peace of the library was disturbed by the incensed rambling of a very opinionated fourteen your old. "...Sorry, that's a bit much. I'm just saying... if you're so concerned about making the most of your time in magic school, I wouldn't waste it on this." He shrugged. "But it's your time - so you can waste it as you like."