Chapter 3
Hermione brutally suppressed the urge to cry with anger and outrage. She'd been doing that an awful lot lately. Almost two months into seven-year schooling, and she was already casting wistful glances at the front door. It was bad enough that nothing had actually changed when she changed schools, but to have the professors call her a know-it-all? Even her head of house Professor McGonagall - the very witch who had introduced her to the concept and world of magic - barely suppressed a sigh when Hermione approached.
Her well of sadness and depression was getting very close to capacity. Her tolerance for absurdity was surpassed long ago - when denigrated for learning in a school .
Every day inched her closer to the letter she had waiting in her desk that told her parents she was done with it all and she'd like to come home please.
She looked over at the Ravenclaw table for the umpteenth time, at the lone figure of Harry Potter. He sat alone, completely separate from everyone else too. Only, he didn't seem to have any trouble with it. He didn't seem interested in making friends or even talking to others. She often wondered what was going through his head while he calmly ate and watched everyone else around him. Did he hate them as much as she did? Did he feel guilty and ashamed for hating people before he got to know them too? Did he feel the same revulsion and disgust when he thought about getting to know them?
Case in point...
Weasley sat down at the table with his 'mates' Dean and Seamus - none of whom seemed at all interested in learning magic.
Seamus leaned closer to the other two. "Hey, what you reckon Potter's deal is?" He asked.
Dean shrugged.
Ronald scoffed. "Bloody golden boy, he is. Far too important to hang out with us commoners."
Hermione suppressed her urge to throttle the boy. Yes, clearly because he sits alone and is never spoken to by anyone he obviously considers himself above everyone else.
Though, in a moment of self-honesty, she admitted that was exactly what she was doing. Her indignation faded a little then.
"Have you asked him?" She heard herself say.
"Wot?" Ronald frowned at her.
Blast. Too late now, might as well stick your foot in it all the way.
"Have you asked him to hang out with you? How do you know he considers himself too good for you when you haven't ever spoken to him?" She could hear the acidic rebuke in her tone, but was helpless to change it. Maybe she was closer to her tolerance limit than she thought.
Weasley's ears turned red and the red began to creep down his neck. "Have you?!" He demanded, "Well go on then!"
Go talk to Harry Potter? Fine. Why not? He was bound to be better company than the cowardly lions. Even if he just sat there and ignored her completely.
"Alright." She said, and picked up her bag to walk toward the Ravenclaw table. Truthfully she was more than a little frightened as she approached him. He did seem completely aloof and uninterested, but she'd talked herself into it, and now she was committed.
"Good morning." She said as she sat across from him. "I hope you don't mind my interrupting. I'm Hermione Granger."
"I know." He replied after a second. His eyes were piercing as they took in her face, hair, and robes.
"Feel free to ignore me and go back to... whatever you were doing... umm..." She felt lost in his green eyes, adrift on an ocean of mystery, and completely lost her train of thought.
"That would be rude." He said. "Did you have a question, or were you just escaping the Dunning-Kruger club?"
She paused to think about what he'd said, and it caused a simultaneous frown and a jolt of excitement. "I'm sorry, I've not heard that before." She admitted.
He put his spoon down and pushed his bowl away - it was empty anyway - and crooked his finger at her. "Come see." He said.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen, then drew on the paper. By the time she had relocated to the seat beside him, he had finished a strange looking graph, two axes with what looked like a large symbol for micro in the center.
"A psychology paper written earlier this year* outlined the tendancy for ignorance and arrogance being hand in hand." He said, and pointed to the axes of the graph, where he'd written 'Confidence' vertically and 'Competence' along the bottom. "Initially confidence is high because the subject knows absolutely nothing about whatever topic is relevant." He pointed to the line that shot straight up vertically, and was attached at the top by an inverted parabola. "Then confidence wanes as the subject learns more about the topic and how much they don't know about it, and then increases as the topic is better understood. The paper was written by David Dunning and Justin Kruger, both psychologists at Cornell University."
She just stared at it for a moment as it sank in and she understood the graph. "I... that's..." she wanted to say 'brilliant', 'clever', or even 'so simple', but she made the mistake of looking into his eyes again, and her grasp on language failed. He was even more intense when she was inches from him.
He slid the paper over to her. "Keep it if you want. I figure most of the people around us are right there." He circled the very top of the vertical line, denoting maximum confidence and minimum competence.
"Certainly applies to the table I abandoned, that's for sure. Thank you, I've not read anything about this before." She took the paper and stowed it in her bag.
"I'd be surprised if you had, considering I learned about it from an American psychologist who has access to the latest scientific journals."
"You study science?" She asked eagerly.
"Yes, but this is social science, and really that's just studying human nature. Human nature is human nature, whether wizard or not."
She took a deep breath and let it out, suddenly relaxed more than she had been in two months. Finally, someone with common bloody sense.
"Thank you... may I call you Harry? I don't want to be too familiar..."
"Suit yourself." He replied.
"Thank you Harry. I'd almost given up hope of finding common sense. And thank you for teaching me something too. Normally I just get teased for learning."
"I've noticed." He said. "Can I tell you something without you taking it as an insult? It isn't meant as one."
That took the wind out of her sails quickly. Did she want to know? She looked back into his green eyes again, and sighed. She had come over and bothered him, so maybe she had asked for it.
"I'll try." She replied.
"Your enthusiasm goes very unappreciated. I have no idea why, but it's a tactical mistake in any case. This is a world where knowledge is literally power, and the more you show that you know, the more accurate an idea others have of your capability. Showing that you are more capable than the rest is like painting a target on your back. BE more capable than the rest, but don't show it. It should be enough for you to know that you're capable without the constant need for validation."
That was more or less what she expected. She hadn't considered the tactical angle of becoming a target, that much was true, but how was she supposed to get good marks? How was she supposed to carry those marks into a decent career?
"How am I supposed to get Oustanding on my exams then, if you know so much?" She would not cry. She would not .
He looked at her again, through her, really.
"There are two answers to that. One: The time and place to show that you're outstanding is during exams, not every day in class. Two: You're under the illusion that your marks matter even a little."
That made her frown. She could feel her brows draw inward as confusion mingled with anger.
"What is that supposed to mean, my marks don't matter?"
"You're making the mistake of thinking that this world is like the world you - and I - come from. Our world is a meritocracy, where you have to show your worth, and your marks are the reflection of that. This is not that world. I'm sure you've come across the pureblood nonsense even in just the two months we've been here."
She nodded.
"The wizards and witches who run the Ministry here don't give a squirt of piss what your marks are. You could have more Outstandings than Merlin and they would never even look at your transcript. The only thing they care about is who your family is, so it doesn't matter what your marks are, they will never hire you to be anything more than a servant."
She could feel the tears stinging her eyes as she tried to blink them away.
"I don't say this to make you cry." He continued, "I don't want you to despair, and I'm not saying it's hopeless. I'm telling you because the sooner you understand, the easier it will be for you to change your plans. Just because Britain is a sewer of greed, corruption, and nepotism doesn't mean other places are. Your marks won't mean anything to other countries either, but your skills and knowledge will. That's why I said don't bother showing how advanced you are. Just learn and be capable."
She looked into his eyes again, and he wasn't lying - at least not that she could tell. He seemed honest. Even his calm way of speaking was reassuring.
Mother did say the most valuable lessons are usually the most painful.
She took a deep breath and let it out. "I'll think about it." She said as she wiped her eyes with the back of a finger.
He stood from the table and looked through her again. "Excuse me." He said, and walked out of the Great Hall.
That afternoon in Charms class, she opened her mouth to correct Weasley, and shut it again. Knowledge was power. She had it, he didn't. It was a sobering thought.
No, she decided, I'll keep it to myself. If Dunning-Kruger boy doesn't want power, that's his problem.
For the first time in two months, she left class with a smile, and no-one denigrated her.
* Dunning-Kruger paper actually published Dec 1999, I fudged it for story purposes.