Ogden looked out of the window at the sky simulated by a Weather Charm.
"My neighbor is a Muggle. A very decent man. He gives me homemade cider every year."
His voice slowed, as though he were recalling something pleasant.
"He trims his lawn with a lawn mower. I trim mine with spells."
"We respect the boundaries of each other's worlds."
He turned to look at the people before him, the corridor lights flickering.
"This isn't teaching children to understand magic. It's teaching children to see magic through Muggle eyes."
"If this continues, what will become of the sanctity of magic?"
Fawley cleared his throat.
"Allow me to add something."
"The issue isn't whether Muggle knowledge is useful."
He picked up the pink booklet from the windowsill and flicked its cover with a finger, looking at the pink cover and the name signed on it with a helpless smile.
"The issue is boundaries."
He opened the booklet to a particular page.
"Once you acknowledge that a Muggle explanatory framework can be applied to magic, you are effectively acknowledging that magic is merely a natural phenomenon Muggles have yet to understand."
He closed the booklet.
"Then what is the point of wizards existing?"
He raised his head, his gaze moving from Ogden to Abbott, then to Selwyn.
"Are we merely ordinary people who happen to be able to control some supernatural power?"
They fell silent.
Selwyn's voice rose quietly.
"I have a more practical concern."
He lowered his arms and straightened his robes.
"Today, he uses physics to explain spells."
He raised one finger.
"Tomorrow, he'll replace Potions Class with chemistry experiments."
A second finger.
"The day after, he'll replace Transfiguration with engineering."
A third finger.
"And in the end-"
He looked at Ogden.
"What difference will there be between Hogwarts