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The next day, classes resumed. The weather hadn't improved. From dawn, heavy, overcast clouds had hung low outside the windows. A sullen, grey sky pressed down on the bare canopy of the Forbidden Forest.
A gust of wind, laden with dead leaves, howled past just as Anthony entered the classroom. It rattled the windowpanes. The fireplace was lit, but the room still felt cold. Too few bodies to fill the space.
Cedric was already at his seat, gripping a yellow-and-black striped Roger the Snake.
"Hufflepuff colours," Roger said in a tone suspiciously reminiscent of the Weasley twins. "How could you resist?"
Cedric shrugged. "Because I don't support the Ballycastle Bats?"
"Really?" Roger perked up immediately. "Who do you support?"
"The Tornadoes. And the Arrows."
"Ah. That explains it." Roger turned to the other students filtering in. "Anyone else want a Hufflepuff snake? Last of the Gen Twos, half-price. Once the Gen Threes come out…"
"…Mr. Filch will have finished updating his list of prohibited items," Anthony finished, pulling a packet of Coconut Ice from his bag and placing it on the lectern. "Good morning."
"Good morning, Professor," Cedric said, handing the snake back to Roger. Roger's roommate, Emery Thorne, silently stowed it in his own bag, then resumed staring at Anthony with flat, unblinking eyes.
Anthony watched the tail disappear. "I hope you all had pleasant holidays?"
"Oh, yes," Cedric said, a bright grin spreading across his face. "My parents and I visited an aunt. She lives in Merionethshire. She's a brilliant digger. Had a three-person cellar ready for us two days before we arrived. When we left, we helped her fill it back in."
"That sounds fascinating," Anthony said. "Did you move the furniture out first?"
"We conjured temporary pieces."
Anthony smiled. "Of course." He turned to Roger, who was slouched over his desk. "And you, Mr. Davis?"
Roger sat up. "Nothing special… Oh. Tracy and I went to a nearby Muggle supermarket."
Anthony's eyebrows shot up. "How was it?"
"I forgot to exchange for Muggle money, so I had to use the leftovers from our last class outing." He thought for a moment. "It was huge. Sold different things. Their toilet paper has patterns on it! I wanted to buy some, but Tracy wouldn't let me. Tracy's my sister," he added for Cedric's benefit. "We each got a candy cane in the end."
More students trickled in, their chatter filling the room—Quidditch, Lockhart's new book, the Weird Sisters' tour, the owl with diarrhea, Professor Kettleburn, the High Inquisitor, and whispers about someone breaking into Azkaban. Anthony worked to keep his expression neutral on the last few topics.
The room warmed as the buzz of conversation grew.
"Oh, they have these little trolleys!" Roger continued. "You put your shopping in them and push them around. Like the luggage carts at King's Cross."
"I'll have to see that sometime," Cedric said. "What about you, Emery?"
Emery Thorne hesitated. "Stayed home."
Cedric and Roger looked at him.
"Ate a lot," Emery added.
"Excellent," Anthony said approvingly as the bell rang.
…
"Glad to see you all back for the new year," Anthony said, raising his voice slightly over the last murmurs.
Silence fell. Students settled into their chairs, eyes on him.
"This term, in your fourth year, we will continue exploring the differences between Muggle and wizarding life—clothing, food, language, appliances, and so on. But there's one more thing." He paused. Saw notebooks flip open. Every student was listening now. "Your final exam."
Another pause for effect.
"You will purchase a ticket from a Muggle." He saw several faces fall immediately. "I don't care what kind of ticket—bus, train, cinema, museum, theatre, zoo, football match. As long as it's valid, you pass. If you succeed, you may use the ticket. I will reimburse the cost. So, yes, consider it another field trip."
"But, Professor, what if I can't get one?" a student asked. "Like, if the… uh, who's the Muggle Weird Sisters?"
"I follow," Anthony said, smiling. "If your chosen event is sold out, I suggest you pick another. But don't worry. If you cannot secure a ticket, or simply cannot bring yourself to approach a ticket seller, you may purchase one from me at the end of term."
"You'll pretend to be the seller?" another student asked, visibly relieved.
Anthony nodded. "Yes. But I must warn you: while selling tickets, I may be more likely to spot your wizarding origins than a Muggle clerk with no exposure to our world. For example, if you walk up to buy a theatre ticket wearing a leather jacket and swim trunks—" He gave them a stern look. "—I sincerely hope no one is planning that, and I will do my best to advise you—a Muggle seller might think they've met a very rebellious individual. I will think I'm looking at a Hogwarts student who forgot standard Muggle attire."
From the (not-so-subtle) glances the students exchanged, his warning had landed about as well as a flobberworm in a duel.
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