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The No-Maj Debate


James was on the pitch practicing with the Hogwarts team, despite the fact it was raining so hard there was little hope of seeing anything besides the miserable fog. He clutched his broomstick, hating his stupid glasses more than ever as they continuously clouded up. He took off the glasses for about the hundredth time, straddling his broom high above the pitch, and wiped them off with the hem of his robes. James squinted about, praying for some sign of the shimmer of a snitch, desperate to end the practice sooner, rather than later. Derek was far off below, barking out orders to the others as he zipped about on his own broom, his hair hanging in strings across his forehead.

The Ilvermorny students clustered about in the stands, huddled beneath umbrellas of various shades. Dawn Gleason looked positively miserable, having brought a blanket down from the North Tower dormitory to hide beneath from the cold. Eric Danes used his wand to make a little fire for Dawn to warm herself near and Dawn smiled at her classmate thankfully as she held her hands over the flickering blue flames in the stands. Only the students playing in the tourney were now allowed to observe one another’s practice games, so beside the Ilvermorny students, the seats were quite empty about the pitch.

Meg Johnson and Jack Scout were the only two not technically watching the practice - instead, they were having a debate. “You heard Derek Bell, Jack. He said the Slytherins are power hungry, evil jerks. Why would we want to be associated with that? Don’t be stupid. We’re visitors here, the last thing we want is to end up making friends with the wrong people. There’s enough moral bullshit going on back home, we don’t need to be getting into it here.”

“We ain’t supposed’ter be minglin’ with no-maj, Meg!” Derek said, “It ain’t safe an’ it ain’t morally right. They don’t belong in our world.”

“Magic is magic, whatever blood runs through a person’s veins,” Meg replied, shaking her head. “Look at my brother. If my mom and dad hadn’t adopted him, he wouldn’t be allowed to attend school because his birth parents were no-maj. He’s got the best marks in his entire grade now.”

Jack scowled.”It ain’t because their magic ain’t as good as ours, when they manage to cross over it definitely’s just as good, I ain’t sayin’ that. I ain’t prejudice on them themselves but I reckon if Bran was with his folks still instead’a yours he wouldn’t be at Ilvermorny on account’a we’d have to explain what it was to his parents, the no-maj rules are broke. You know them muggle-borns they been acceptin’ at this school ain’t jus’ comin’ here without them parents knowin’ where they’re off to.”

“Well no but there’s probably some rule or something about it that makes it work. There’s ways to make sure --”

“What’s to stop them parents tellin’ everyone else ‘bout the wizardin’ school?” Jack demanded, “They could tell ever’one they know ‘bout it and the next thing you know you got lines down the road of people wantin’ to see it, like it’s a side show at a circus.” He shook his head, “We’ve got in trouble too many times to risk it. Read the history books, will you? They’re rich with reasons why not to mingle with no-maj.”

Meg pointed down the row of students, “Eric said on his reservation they mix freely. Everyone on the reservation believes in magic, no-maj and wizard alike. The whole community helped him relocate to New Hampshire to go to Ilvermorny.”

“Life on a rez is different than it is for the rest of us, you know that, Meg,” Jack replied, rolling his eyes, “There’s literally different laws, different government on a rez. In the real world, no-maj are dangerous.”

“They aren’t dangerous,” snapped Meg. “They make mistakes because they don’t understand magic and what being a wizard entails anymore than we understand being no-maj. If we weren’t so secretive about it, if we just opened up and told them - hey, this is what’s going on - and explained it really clearly --”

“Then we’d never have another day of peace!” Jack said. “I know you think it would all be sunshine and bubbles if the two world collided, but it ain’t so! No-maj can’t even get along with each other, not to mention with us.”

We don’t exactly get along either,” Meg said, “Just look at this country. It’s going through hell. Mr. Temple almost cancelled the whole trip over this Voldemort guy. He compared him to Adolf Hitler.”

“Hitler was no-maj,” pointed out Jack.

“I know, but that’s exactly my point. Voldemort isn’t no-maj, he’s a wizard, but he’s just as bad as Hitler was. We aren’t any better than the no-maj.”

Jack rubbed his eyes, “I said I didn’t mean that we are better, just that we are different and therefore need to be apart from no-maj. It’s nothing to do with being better or worse or privileged or whatever. It’s not a racial thing. It’s entirely a water’n oil thing! Water and oil don’t mix, neither does magic and no-maj. That’s all’s I’m sayin’. And y’all would be a lot better off if you got that through your heads. We can’t be mixin’ up what mother nature separated.”

Meg’s face was furious. “Just because you say it’s not a racial thing doesn’t mean it isn’t a racial thing. It is and what you’re saying are racist arguments. Labelling it something else doesn’t make it not that, it just makes you look stupid. If you’re going to be racist, at least have the balls to say you’re a racist!”

Dawn Gleason turned to look at Meg at the word balls with a raised eyebrow.

Jack fumed, “I’m not havin’ this argument with you. Laws are on my side. Just because your folks are hippies doesn’t mean --”

“So what if my folks are hippies!?” demanded Meg, “The peace movement is the greatest thing to happen to the human race -- basically in the entire last century!”

Jack Scout snorted, “Yeah, okay.”

Meg was about to retort when Richie Hart suddenly let out a whooping shout and stood up, spilling a bag of popcorn he’d been holding over the top of Meg and Jack both, the kernels flying about and getting stuck in Meg’s frizzy red hair as he jumped and pointed at the pitch. Jack and Meg both turned their attention to see James Potter in the midst of a great dive, sweeping through the throng of other players on the field, nearly taking out Isaac Horan as he sped by, a blur of red and black. The whole of the Ilvermorny team was standing now, craning their necks to see the grass far below as James shot in a near perfectly straight line so quick it seemed that he couldn’t possibly pull out in time to avoid hitting the ground at a velocity that would certainly shatter a good number of bones.

“I can’t watch,” squeaked Dawn Gleason and she pressed her face into Meg’s shoulder fearfully.

At the very last possible second, James yanked up on his broomstick, turning so tightly that it seemed a miracle. He was holding up his fist, a triumphant grin on his face - and as he flew up toward the level of play, Meg shrieked in surprise, pointing, “He’s got the snitch!” she said, “He dove for the snitch!”

Dawn opened her eyes, “He made it?”

“YES!” Meg shouted, “And he has the snitch!”

Jack’s eyes were wide. “Well damn,” he muttered.

Richie, Eric, Nick, Andy, and Carlos - the other boys on the team - were all high-fiving and whooping out shouts of encouragement as Janice Higgins laughed in relief. Meg shook her head as Dawn, too, let out some nervous laughter. “I can’t believe it,” Meg said, “That was… very impressive.”

“You gonna be able to match that?” Jack asked, looking at her.

Meg wasn’t sure. “Of course,” she said, much more confidently than she felt.

“We’ll be working on that next practice. I need everyone to work on their speed if we’re going up against that --” Jack started talking Quidditch and the debate was over… for now.

James enjoyed the high-fives and praise from his teammates - most of which were too excited to remember they were from different houses. Isaac Horan was the only one that didn’t congratulate him, sitting on his broom scowling and muttering that James had nearly knocked him off his broomstick as he watched the walls between houses break down among them. Abby Jones shook his hand heartily, “My sister couldn’t even have pulled out of that dive!” she said, “And she’s gone pro this year!”

Derek swung his arm ‘round James’s shoulders as they made their way from the pitch a few minutes later. The Ilvermorny team was waiting all in a cluster on the path up to the castle. Derek grinned at James as they approached, “I’m sure we’ve got them nervous now,” he said, winking.

James grinned back.

But as they got closer to the cluster of Ilvermorny, they saw that Mulciber was with them once again and Jack was shaking hands with the seventh year Slytherin and laughing, nodding. Meg’s face was as red as her hair and Dawn Gleason was looking on, appalled. Derek’s arm fell from James’s shoulders, “What’s going on here?” he asked.

Carlos Monteyro, a couple steps away from the rest of the cluster, looked up at Derek’s question. “Jack’s, uh, making some new friends, I guess,” he said with his thick latino accent.

“Jack!” Derek pushed past Carlos to get to the other captain quickly.

Carlos looked down at James, “Hey, good job with that dive, it was real great.”

“Thanks,” James said.

“Jack!” Derek had got to him by now and was looking between him and Mulciber, “What’s going on?”

Mulciber grinned, “Jack and the Ilvermorny team are going to sit with us tonight at dinner. Hope you don’t mind.”




James got back to the dormitory what seemed like eons later. Derek was fuming the entire way back up the steps, pausing to rant and rave about how unacceptable Mulciber’s underhanded move was. The moment they got through the portrait hole, James excused himself in the name of telling his mates about the play, and he hurried up to their room as quick as possible. Sirius was standing on his trunk, grinning ear to ear, his wand in the air and the feather following it about as he waved it like a symphony conductor. “Oi, look who it is,” he said, seeing James come through the door, “The star Seeker.”

James sighed and slugged his broom and soaking wet robes into a pile on the floor before kicking off his sopping trainers and tossing himself across his bed. “I’m utterly exhausted,” he groaned.

“I can’t believe Derek had you playing so long in this rain,” Peter said, “You’re going to end up with pneumonia!”

James murmured, “S’long as it doesn’t interfere with the tourney, I don’t give a damn.” He looked around, “Where’s Remus?”

“Downstairs. Studying with his not-girlfriend,” said Peter.

James eyes were closed. “Right.”

Sirius cleared his throat.

James opened one eye to look at his mate. “What?” he asked.

Sirius looked at the feather floating about after his wand before him. “Do you see what I am doing?” he asked.

“Moving a feather about?” James asked, “So?”

Sirius raised his eyebrow meaningfully. “Yes…?”

“We learned how to do that day one with Flitwick, you git,” James answered, closing his eyes.

Sirius laughed, “Yeah, but -- James, I’m doing it silently.”

James’s eyes popped opened. He sat up rapidly as the grin on Sirius’s face widened even further until he looked like a Cheshire Cat. “Bloody hell!” James exclaimed, “You are! You’ve done it! You’ve done it!”

“So has Peter,” Sirius said. “Peter, show him.”

Peter waved his wand and the drawer of James’s nightstand flew open, releasing the little golden snitch inside. James caught it without hardly even moving, his eyes wide with surprise and excitement. “Wow! Neat! Good on you, Peter!”

Peter’s voice was thrilled, “And I wasn’t even the last one to learn it!” he exclaimed gleefully.