Chapter 3
After the end of our day shopping, Hermoine and I came to the conclusion that I was not crazy. There were titles given to customers beyond Mrs or Mr in formality. People communicated with odd formality, even in groups that you think would have a more causal code. And oddly enough, some of the things we do in the muggle world seemingly don’t happen here.
And the infuriating part is not the fact the magical world has its own unspoken rules and etiquette. The thing that leaves me exasperated is the fact I can identify the actual rules of what is different.
I finally get to my room for the evening. Dinner with the Weasleys has always been a drug-out thing, with everyone always having to get their own two cents in, all the Weasleys (sans Percy for what ever reason) having second and often third portions. And no one got up until everyone was done eating. Dinner, after Mrs. Weasley fretted over my size for what felt like an eternity, was followed by dessert. And that was accompanied by chatter and talk of all verity.
I shut my door and looked out the window trying to unwind after dinner. It was not long before Hermoine knocked on my door before letting herself in.
“I just want to know what we did wrong” Hermoine exclaimed as she flopped onto my bed.
“I know. I hate it when people keep me in the dark. It leaves me feeling..”
“Otrisized,” we say at the same time.
“Yeah, but I can’t ask Dumbledor or the Weasleys because they will insist I am doing nothing wrong. I can’t ask any of the people who obviously know the ins and outs because they hate us.”
“You're pacing Harry” Oh. Didn’t realize that. “Besides, you know how in primary school we always looked at people who picked their nose or chewed with their mouth open oddly, and no one went out of their way to befriend them?” Hermoine asks, propping herself on her arms.
“Yeah, why?”
“And you know how they almost always did not realize why they were left on the outskirts of childhood hierarchy until someone told them?”
“Immhm” I snap my head around, locking eyes with Hermoine “Wait are you making an analogy between our situation and primary where I’m getting compared to a first form eating his boogies?!?” I gasp in fake horror.
“That's the obvious choice,” Hermoine says, deadpanned. We break down laughing, and five minutes later, we are grasping our stomachs, trying to catch our breath.
“So we need to find someone neutral to tell us how we are mucking up?” I ask responding to Hermoine’s seriously this time.
“YES, EXACTLY!. Why not Daphne Greengrass?” Hermoine recommends tentatively.
“Why Daphne?” I ask bewildered.
“Well, she is from a neutral family and if you ask her something for clarification on something, she’ll do it. Not because she adores teaching, but because in her words the worst people are the ignorant ones.”
“Hmm… that makes sense. Why doesn't she correct people automatically then?”
“Well it would come off as brash. Besides there are some people who rather remain ignorant and it isn't worth the breath to correct them.”
I tap my finger on my chin for a moment. “Like Ron?”
“Oh Harry, some things need to be left unsaid” She smiles, signing exasperately. “Why don’t we ask her once we get to Hogwarts? Then it's less of a spectacle”
“Sure. Only one week of agony”
“HARRY” She shreaks smacking me with a pillow.
Thus our plan was devised. Our schedule figured out we were ready to rock and roll.