>The mound of discarded pumpkin seeds glittered like wet coins under the kitchen lights. Ron Weasley flicked another one across the table, aiming for Harry's abandoned butterbeer bottle. "Missed," he muttered, leaning back with a satisfied grin that faltered as Hermione slammed her glass down.
>"Honestly, Ronald," she said, her voice unnaturally loud. A stray curl escaped her usually meticulous bun. "Must you? It's unsanitary." Her cheeks were flushed, not from the firewhisky she'd switched to after the third pumpkin wine, but something sharper. Her gaze drifted past him, unfocused, landing on the framed photograph of Hogwarts' founders above the mantelpiece.
>Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Alright there, Hermione?" He nudged her elbow gently. Her head snapped towards him, eyes wide and startlingly intense. "Perfectly," she declared, drawing herself up. "Just contemplating historical revisionism. We've been *taught* such a simplistic narrative." She paused, swirling the dregs of her drink. "Take Grindelwald. Obvious villain, right? But Hitler..." The name hung in the sudden, brittle silence. Ginny dropped a spoon with a clatter. "...Hitler," Hermione continued, her voice gaining momentum, "was operating under immense societal pressures. Misunderstood intentions, perhaps. Doesn't he deserve... an apology? A reassessment?"
>Ron choked on his pumpkin juice. "Apology?!" he spluttered, wiping his chin. "Hermione, have you gone mental? He murdered millions! Muggle-born, Jewish..." Hermione waved a dismissive hand, her gesture unusually loose. "Collateral damage in a grander ideological struggle," she stated airily. "The Versailles Treaty crippled Germany economically. National pride demanded..." Her words slurred slightly, but her racing certainty was terrifyingly clear. "The Jewish financial stranglehold needed breaking. It was... pragmatic."
>Harry felt a cold dread settle deeper than any Dementor's touch. This wasn't Hermione. Not the Hermione who'd wept over house-elf rights, who'd meticulously documented Death Eater atrocities. Ginny stood frozen, a ladle dripping stew onto the floorboards unnoticed. "Hermione," Harry said slowly, deliberately lowering his voice, forcing calm he didn't feel. "Look at me. Really look. You're talking about genocide." He gestured towards her bookshelf overflowing with histories – Muggle and magical – chronicling oppression. "Your parents..."
>Hermione blinked, a flicker of confusion momentarily displacing the unnerving certainty in her eyes. She glanced towards the bookshelf, then back at Harry. "My parents? Dentists. Good people. But..." She trailed off, frowning, her hand drifting unconsciously to her temple. "The narrative... it's been curated. Selective outrage." Her gaze sharpened again, locking onto Harry. "Think logically! Grindelwald's European conquests were brutal, yet Dumbledore dueled him privately. No Muggle tribunals. Why the disproportionate focus on Hitler? Because he targeted *specific* financial elites? The scale..." She hiccuped softly, the sound grotesquely out of place.
AI is wild