Muggle Studies 101

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or magical concepts in this fiction. All characters and concepts belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers, and no infringement of copyright is intended, nor is anyone making any money whatsoever from this piece of writing. Please do not reproduce any of the content without contacting me first.

A/N: Okay, so I'm writing a long fic, and it all got terribly angsty and I needed the fanfic equivalent of a sorbet to cleanse my writing palate. So I wrote this piece of tosh. Clearly, this is not canon. Hermione wasn't even in the school in seventh year, and if I have my facts straight, it was a Carrow that was teaching. (Boo, hiss.) So, I made up a teacher for Hermione to take over from for the day. That teacher is quite clearly a dumbass. I'm insulting my own creation now, aren't I? I'm pretty sure people have written fics based in Muggles Studies classes, possibly even ones taught by Hermione, so I will state now I didn't steal the idea. I can't find any fics with the same premise, but if there are, let me know and I will reference them in an author's note at the bottom of this story. Oh, and there's a wee reference to HG/HP in here too, so look away if you don't like that pairing.

"Okay everyone," began Hermione, trying to raise her voice in an authoritative manner without it quavering. "Um, as you know, I was asked to take Professor Duncical's class for today while she's away, mostly because I'm Muggle-born and have first-hand knowledge, and also because I might be training to be a teacher when we finish this year, and Professor Dumbledore kindly gave me the opportunity to experience teaching a class. Please don't murder me."

The class laughed, except for Draco who looked a bit tempted.

"Okay, well. Most of the Muggle-borns in Hogwarts will agree that the information we are given in this class is often, er... lacking in... umm... realism. So I thought I would just start by going through a day in the life of an average Muggle. Obviously, it will be very generalised, but it should include the majority of the things we - well, they - use and situations they come across regularly."

"Do you live as a Muggle every summer, Hermione?" called out Parvati.

"Well I don't live as one, because I am one." she replied, feeling a bit cross. "But whenever I visit my parents, yes, I act as I always did before Hogwarts. Not least because we can't use magic out of school anyway and I've not been home since I've been legal. Now, let's start with the morning time."

"Yes, lets. So do you wake up with a new mudblood man beside you every morning, or do you stick with the one?" snickered Draco, nudging Goyle when he didn't join in with the mocking laughter quickly enough for his liking.

"You filthy shithead!" roared Harry, leaping from his seat and flying towards Draco.

"HARRY! Sit down! Now!" yelled Hermione, watching in horror as Ron restrained him, though he rather looked like he would prefer to join in and give Draco a damn good thrashing.

"If Draco wishes to be an ignoramus for the rest of his life, that's his prerogative. We can only pity him."

Feeling proud of herself for not rising to the bait, Hermione returned to her lesson plan.

"Now. I know a lot of teenage male wizards are fond of the scourgify charm, despite its limited effects after its use for the fifth day in a row..."

There were several male sniggers as they acknowledged the truth to each other. The girls just rolled their eyes in disgust.

"And unfortunately, Muggle boys have similar attitudes, but they don't even have the advantage of that charm. The rest of the civilised Muggle population prefer to have a full shower every day."

"What civilised Muggle population?" muttered Draco, glancing warily at Harry when he turned a death glare on him again.

"Muggle baths are connected to water mains that connect to the central city water supply, unlike magical baths, but they are used in the same way. Showers are run on electricity, though the water comes from the same place as the baths. They work pretty much the same way as wizarding ones though, except that some have buttons instead of taps."

"You're welcome to show me how to use one some time, Hermione!" called Seamus, grinning cheekily.

"Thank you, Seamus, I'll bare that in mind!" she replied, causing fits of giggles and some indulgent cringes and groans at the bad pun.

If I can't beat them, I may as well join them, considered Hermione, recognising that she was going to have to call on all of her humour reserves to get through this period.

"Besides, Seamus, you know perfectly well how to use a shower; you're Muggle-born."

He just grinned.

"Needn't stop us!"

"What about the shitpan, Hermione?" asked a Ravenclaw boy called Daniel.

"The toilet, I assume you mean?" asked Hermione. "The toilet works through a mechanism called a 'ballcock'-"

The entire class dissolved. There was absolutely nothing to do but wait for them to regain their sense of control. Hermione sat down and perused her teaching notes until they were quite finished.

Harry and Ron were leaning against each other clutching their stomachs, mouths twisted and silent laughter contorting their eyes, Parvati and Padma were giggling hysterically and red in the face, and Draco had his hand over his eyes and his shoulders were shaking. Anyone passing by the classroom door would have thought that Hagrid had brought his Care of Magical Creatures class indoors, such was the animalistic cacophony.

Eventually, it dinned to a mere thunderous roar, and Hermione began to talk again until they started listening once more.

"Perhaps we will move on from the bathroom, shall we? Muggles have breakfast next, just like we do here. There are many devices used for preparing breakfast. You'd probably all end up dead in five minutes if I let you near them."

She ignored the indignant squeals from a few of them, feeling not in the least bit guilty because she clearly heard several wizards and witches murmur in agreement.

"It's true," said Seamus. "I invited Daniel over last summer and he turned on the toaster and inserted his hands in the slots. He thought they were big handles and that he had to wave the toaster through the air over the bread."

Daniel shivered.

"The burns... the burns..." he murmured to himself, rocking back and forth slightly.

Seamus patted him sympathetically on the back.

Hermione stared at Daniel incredulously, before catching herself and regaining her sense of tact.

"Yes, well, ahem... usually you don't put your hands anywhere near the devices except to put food in them, or to turn dials or press buttons. Electricity is highly dangerous - you shouldn't put water, metal or skin anwhere near something like a toaster. You put the bread in the slots of the toaster and push the button down."

"I know," whispered Daniel, who seemed to be in a daze of memories, "My hands were... so sore..."

"Yes... quite. Ahem. Anyway, the bread will pop up when it has been turned into toast by the heating elements through a chemical process called the Maillard reaction. There are little heating elements on either side of the inside of the slots. That's why your hands were toasted, Daniel. It was incorrect for Madam Duncical to say that there are tiny dragons inside the toaster breathing fire on the bread. Muggles don't even know dragons really exist. Muggles all use electricity in devices like toasters; and we already covered electicity in class. However, what we learned about that was, of course, also wrong. Electricity is not made up of lots of tiny metal wire tubes in which microscopic elves rub their hands together quickly to produce energy. A good example of electricity at its rawest is lightning. That is a build up of electricity. A tremendously powerful amount of energy is expended in split seconds during a lightning flash, and that's why it is an extremely important part of elemental magic."

"A tremendously powerful amount of energy could be expended in split seconds if you and I were to take a trip to the astronomy tower, Hermione," grinned Seamus. "I'm free tonig-"

"Seamus! I'll push you off the astronomy tower, if you don't shut up!" yelled Hermione.

"Okay, okay," he relented, adopting an innocent look, before looking up at her cheekily from underneath his eyelashes. "We'll discuss it after class."

The class dissolved in to giggles yet again and Hermione even broke out into a helplessly amused grin herself.

"Fine," she said, giving up on the idea of drumming the concept of electricity into their heads. "Let's just assume that all electricity is created through the energy created by the raw, animal lust that exists between Seamus Finnegan and myself, okay?"

Seamus pumped the air with his fist as the class whooped and hollered.

"Now that we know how all electrical devices are powered-"

"Rrrrrrr," growled Seamus, clawing the air like a tiger.

"Indeed, Seamus - now that we know, we can move on to ovens and refrigerators."

"Is it true that McGonagall was born in a refrigerator, Hermione?" asked Angelica.

"Pardon?" asked Hermione, astonished.

"Dean said she was Fridged from the moment she was born."

The Muggle-borns in the class dissolved once more into helpless giggles, while those who had grown up in the magical world just looked confused.

"I think," replied Hermione, taking a deep breath and trying to maintain her sanity, "that Dean was being rather crude, and referring to Professor McGonagall as 'frigid'. Which she is not. As far as I know, Professor McGonagall was not born in a fridge, nor was she born in any other type of Muggle appliance."

"How are Muggle babies born, Hermione?" asked a Ravenclaw called Desha.

"Uh... well, the same way as magical babies," replied Hermione, feeling disappointed - how could the wizarding world be quite so ignorant about the Muggle world when they contributed so much to wizarding society? "It's just the equipment that's different."

"My equipment is different, Hermione," said Seamus. "Above average, and you're so curious about everything - perhaps you'd like to examine-"

"SEAMUS FINNEGAN!" roared Hermione. "I don't think you quite realise the significance of the rights Dumbledore has given me for the duration of this class. If you don't want to find out how miserable I can make the rest of your week, I suggest you do as I say and stand outside the classroom for five minutes until you have reigned control over your insatiable libido."

Seamus stood up, red with embarrassment but with a half-grin evident on his face. Dean had his arms folded on the table and his head buried into the crook of his elbow, shaking with laughter.

Seamus shuffled out of the classroom with his hands in his pockets, receiving a wry grin from Harry and Ron.

"Keep telling you, mate," whispered Harry. "Never mess with my girl - it doesn't work."

"Thank you, Harry," drawled Hermione.

"No problem, Mione!"

"Hermione!"

"Sorry, Mione - Hermione."

She hissed to herself - some friends those two dolts were. She held back a grin as her Harry winked at her.

"You know what?" she suddenly said, flinging down her notes, and making Draco, who was sitting directly in front of her, jump. She gave him a smug smile. "Clearly, we're getting nowhere here. I'm seeing our poor teachers in a whole new light. I'm going to show you a television show for the last ten minutes - Dumbledore gave me permission to activate the charms which allow Muggle technology to work in this room only. I assume you all have a basic concept of television?"

"Mmm... still not sure I totally get it, Hermione," said Lucy Sander.

"Well... think of it as being a bit like a magical portrait," explained Hermione. "They're moving but they're not really here. It's fictional; it's like a moving story. I'm showing an episode of a Muggle situation comedy, also known as a sitcom. We'll only have time for half of it but it will give a good idea of the sort of entertainment Muggles enjoy, and the program itself will give some idea of Muggle life, although it is an exaggerated version of reality."

"Sadly, you're not an exaggerated version of reality," muttered Draco.

"Draco... do you know what a douche is?" asked Hermione in a deceptively pleasant voice.

"No..."

"Oh... well, you're a massive douche."

The few Muggleborns in the class giggled behind their hands, while Harry didn't even bother trying to be subtle and let out a roar of laughter.

"What?!" cried Draco. "What the hell is a giant douche?"

"You!" gasped Harry, still laughing.

Hermione pressed play on the television and slumped into a chair that was placed against the side wall at the top of the class, heaving a great sigh. Perhaps this teaching lark wasn't for her - this was the easiest subject she could possibly teach, and she was exhausted after half an hour of it. The last ten minutes passed easily with no further mishaps, except for when Lucy, still confused about the concept of television, wandered up the centre of the classroom and addressed the television, rapping on the screen when the characters refused to acknowledge her.

"Monica!" she exclaimed. "Rachel! Hello! Oi! Monica! Gosh, they're ruder than wizard portraits, Hermione."

Hermione tried not to laugh.

"They can't hear you, Lucy. It was filmed in the past - you're watching a... memory of sorts."

"Oh..." Lucy said vaguely, wandering back to her seat.

Harry leaned over his desk at the front of the class towards Hermione.

"Do you think she's related to Luna?" he asked.

Hermione grinned and flicked her hands at him, indicating to him to sit down. At that moment, the door of the classroom opened and Seamus shuffled back in, only to catch sight of the women talking on the television screen, and he stood just inside the door, slack-jawed.

"Oh, that's Rachel! Oh... I'd let her fix my ballcock any day of the week and five times on Sunday."

"SEAMUS! OUT!" yelled Hermione as the class dissolved into laughter once more. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, that's it. Class dismissed, there's only two minutes left anyway. Go on, shove off the lot of you - thanks for your help with choosing my career. It's not going to be bloody teaching anyway, so that's my career path narrowed down."

Still giggling, the class trailed out of the room, some of the boys dawdling in order to gawk at the pretty women on the television.

"Catch you at lunch, mate," said Ron to Harry, thumping him gently on the back.

"Alright, Ron," replied Harry, gathering his books and waiting for the class to empty.

It was empty within a few seconds except for Draco, who was still leering at the television.

"Draco, shove off," growled Harry.

"No," replied Draco, not breaking his gaze at the screen. "Not done."

"Class is dismissed, Draco, get out," snapped Hermione.

"No. See her," he said, pointing at one of the women on screen. "I could have her."

Harry snorted. "Get. Out."

"No."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"That girl you're so enamoured with? You're forgetting something you seem to hold so dear to your heart... you - horrible prejudiced pureblood, her - Muggle actress...Muggleborn."

Draco's face contorted.

"Mother of Merlin!" he coughed, and stalked out of the room with his nose in the air.

"Nice one, Mione," smiled Harry, sidling up to her and putting an arm around her waist to walk her out of the classroom.

"Thanks, Har," she said, leaning into his strong frame.

"Sexiest Muggle Studies teacher in the UK!"

"Er... one of only two Muggle Studies teachers in the UK, and Professor Duncical isn't much competition in that department!" she laughed. "And I'm only a professor for today."

"Okay, well, sexiest Muggleborn in the UK. Hell, sexiest in the world!" he grinned.

"Oh, stop it!"

"Oh, come on. I can't resist you, you know that, so maybe one day you'll be the Muggleborn to have borne my Muggle!"

"Nice wordplay, Harry."

"I learned from the best. Come on Professor, I think you have a few more Muggle techniques to show me... what was that thing about a ballcock?"

"Harry!"