The Absurd Club

No lemon ice cream...

Andrew wasn't fully recovered after lunch, but he still cleaned himself up a little and headed for the empty classroom they had agreed on.

Though he was disappointed with the club he had joined, which supposedly aspired to the Ministry of Magic, he still needed to see whether there was anything he could get for free.

But by the time he arrived, the empty classroom was already half full.

"Andrew, over here! Over here!"

Connie, who had nominated him for official entry into the club, called out to him from a seat near the back by the door. Andrew sat down in the empty seat behind him.

Only then did he notice that the chairs had been magically arranged into several small sections around a blank central area. A few older Ravenclaws sat at the front of each section.

No way, right?

An absurd thought surfaced in Andrew's mind, and unfortunately, five or six minutes later, it was proven true.

A small temple bred wild spirits; a shallow pond bred too many turtles.

Although that saying did seem to insult himself as well, Andrew couldn't think of a more fitting description.

Could you believe that one lousy club had split into several factions?

And each division even had a perfectly valid justification—everyone wanted to enter the Ministry of Magic, so naturally they had to make choices.

Those who intended to arrest their classmates in the future naturally leaned toward the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Members of this faction viewed Ravenclaws who "didn't follow the proper path" as their ideal future opponents, and they were also the most radical. The older the students were, the more so it became. Forget looking at other Ravenclaws—even when looking at members of their own club, their gazes were appraising...

Then there were those who openly admitted they couldn't be bothered to pretend and thought the Minister for Magic's Office and Logistics was a good destination. The older students among them had all secured office internships over the summer. Whether they would ultimately be selected was another matter, but for now they were probably the proudest people in the club, calling to younger students behind them as if summoning subordinates.

There were also those inclined toward the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. They believed necessary skills were still important. The Ministry of Magic always needed people who could do real work, and they were the reserve force meant to preserve peace in the Wizarding world—this group had the best attitude.

Those inclined toward the Department of Magical Sports had mostly not come. Unless there was a major meeting, that lot was either training hard for Quidditch or taking part in house Quidditch matches. Some belonged to two clubs and helped out at small competitions like Gobstones or Exploding Snap. They had their excuse too: their field was highly specialized, and daily practice was important.

Those were the classic factions. There was no need to count the less conventional ones that leaned toward other departments.

As for Connie, the one who had recommended Andrew, he was undoubtedly part of the Minister for Magic's Office and Logistics faction, the group most skilled at discrimination.

A few of those leaning toward the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures genuinely loved magical creatures. But Connie and his lot, basically...

"You're a smart enough person, Taylor. They all agreed with what you said. We really should discriminate against them equally."

Connie smiled. "You'll understand how wise your choice was in the future. Minister Fudge is young and promising. By the time you graduate, I think he'll still be Minister, just like our previous Minister of Magic."

Andrew knew that much. Minister Millicent Bagnold had remained in office until she simply no longer wanted to work.

"Of course... I absolutely support the Minister of Magic."

Andrew expressed that without the slightest hesitation—though he kept the words whoever the Minister of Magic is, I support them to himself. Still, wasn't that essentially the same thing?

"It's just, sorry, but paperwork has given me headaches ever since I was little... I even fell asleep once in Magical History..." Andrew spoke quickly in a low voice. "I'm fairly good at Charms, though, so I plan to try my luck with the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes."

"The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes?"

Connie gave Andrew a look. That department did not conflict with his interests, at least. Fine. The guy just couldn't recognize the most promising position. He had some intelligence, but not enough...

"All right, go ahead. Wherever you are, you'll be serving the Ministry of Magic, won't you?"

He said it with a smile, but the enthusiasm had completely vanished from his expression.

So there are still normal people...

Andrew happily abandoned Connie's side. After greeting the older student at the front of the other group, he sat down even more happily.

It was rare to receive two pieces of good news at once—finding out that his house still had hope while also getting farther away from the abnormal people was truly wonderful.

What followed was simple—the club summarized the number of people who had obtained Ministry of Magic positions and Ministry internships during the previous summer, praised the Ministry of Magic, and looked ahead to the future.

Then the smaller groups recommended key subjects for new students to study and extracurricular reading lists based on their own inclinations—with those things, whether one was seeking an internship or hoping to join the Ministry of Magic later, one could gain a certain advantage.

Simply put, older students taught new students how to pass written tests and interviews...

Andrew noticed that the magic recommended by the group on the other side was mostly office magic—organizing parchment, making paper airplanes for delivery, brewing coffee at just the right temperature...

So after all that grand talk, the first thing was learning how to be an office worker...

Andrew's group had a different set of recommendations—but his situation was different.

"First, try learning the principles of Legilimency. Usually, we don't recommend first-years join, but since you're here, you can try this final assessment. If you learn it before the end of fifth year, you'll basically be exempt from the other assessments and can be recommended for an internship. But hardly anyone has ever managed it."

"What you need is to build a solid foundation in first year. As for the crucial Defense Against the Dark Arts—I personally suggest studying it well on your own. Neither your classmates nor older students will give you much help, because that's their specialty."

That was the advice the leading boy, Ham, gave Andrew.

"As a qualified Ravenclaw, you know why. But I can guarantee that if your final report card for the first half of the year is good enough, I'll give you a reading list I recommend."

Yes, Andrew knew why—in theory, they were competitors. And since Defense Against the Dark Arts, a subject Hogwarts did not excel at, was a required part of the assessment, few people were willing to share their knowledge. That was true in every house, though Ravenclaw was probably the worst.

"Okay. I'll seriously build a solid foundation."

Andrew agreed readily—though he absolutely would not actually do it.

He would have to be mad to provoke Professor Quirrell. Self-study was the limit, and even that would have to wait until after Transfiguration—that was the course with a good professor to guide him and real potential.

To him, this club was merely a backdrop for getting through his lower years. How could the Ministry of Magic possibly be more important than magic itself?

"All right, everyone, the first gathering of the new term is over—may we meet at the Ministry of Magic."

"See you at the Ministry of Magic."