It's fine, you can call us prudes - certainly in many aspects the British Wizarding world feels that way.
[They arrive at last at The Three Broomsticks, so Hermione pulls and holds the door open for Prudence to step through first. She'll find them a table by the window, maybe somewhere secluded, if they're going to continue having this incredibly entertaining conversation. She doesn't feel badgered at all; what's more, she feels interesting to someone, finally. All that knowledge locked up in her brain, finally useful to someone.]
To answer your question, I do try, though there isn't a lot of written research on it to go by. Mostly it's old magical families who preserve rituals, and they're secretive. Especially to people like me.
[There's a tight, almost pained smile, before Hermione bristles and looks towards the bar.] Anyway - Butterbeer, Ms Blackwood?
[Whatever does she mean; her curiosity is bubbling over. ] Old magical families tend to be snobs in my experience, for what it's worth. Annoyingly so.
[Not in the way Hermione means, probably. Worse, perhaps, in all manner of ways. ] In some ways -- tradition is all we have. Like butterbeer. I've heard you can't pass through Hogsmede without trying it.
I'll get us some. [She points towards a table by the window, empty.] Take over that one, will you?
[She hoists her bag of books over one shoulder and makes her way to the bar, where she orders two butterbeer pints for the two of them. She pays Rosmerta, and makes her way to the table, where the barmaid will have sent the pints through a clever spell.]
Ah, here we go - where were we? You mentioned that tradition is all we have in some ways, and I would disagree. [She shrugs, and takes her cloak off before taking a seat.] That kind of mentality is one I am very familiar with from my time in school, and all my adult life in the wizarding world, Ms Blackwood, so I should preface it by saying that I am a muggleborn. [And proud, says the jut of her chin.]
The wizarding world is stale in its traditions. It could do with some changes.
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It's fine, you can call us prudes - certainly in many aspects the British Wizarding world feels that way.
[They arrive at last at The Three Broomsticks, so Hermione pulls and holds the door open for Prudence to step through first. She'll find them a table by the window, maybe somewhere secluded, if they're going to continue having this incredibly entertaining conversation. She doesn't feel badgered at all; what's more, she feels interesting to someone, finally. All that knowledge locked up in her brain, finally useful to someone.]
To answer your question, I do try, though there isn't a lot of written research on it to go by. Mostly it's old magical families who preserve rituals, and they're secretive. Especially to people like me.
[There's a tight, almost pained smile, before Hermione bristles and looks towards the bar.] Anyway - Butterbeer, Ms Blackwood?
no subject
[Whatever does she mean; her curiosity is bubbling over. ] Old magical families tend to be snobs in my experience, for what it's worth. Annoyingly so.
[Not in the way Hermione means, probably. Worse, perhaps, in all manner of ways. ] In some ways -- tradition is all we have. Like butterbeer. I've heard you can't pass through Hogsmede without trying it.
no subject
[She hoists her bag of books over one shoulder and makes her way to the bar, where she orders two butterbeer pints for the two of them. She pays Rosmerta, and makes her way to the table, where the barmaid will have sent the pints through a clever spell.]
Ah, here we go - where were we? You mentioned that tradition is all we have in some ways, and I would disagree. [She shrugs, and takes her cloak off before taking a seat.] That kind of mentality is one I am very familiar with from my time in school, and all my adult life in the wizarding world, Ms Blackwood, so I should preface it by saying that I am a muggleborn. [And proud, says the jut of her chin.]
The wizarding world is stale in its traditions. It could do with some changes.