it was hermione’s idea, as always. she confessed, privately, that it was because she’d always dreamed of wanting to be an astronaut, when she was a child - a dream she had all but forgotten in the intoxication of the magical realm.
taking the cue from her, it was the muggleborns who stepped in to lead wizardkind into their space age, as it were - for millenia, the paradigms of magic had been so wrapped up in earth-bound wonders, with magical eyes only turned upwards to interpret the odd astronomical prediction. to raise magic to the skies now required an imagination whose initial dreams had focused on the magic of the infinite cosmos, whom had been bred on science fiction and dreams of space travel and who now only needed the imagination to bring long-forgotten childish blueprints into reality.
it was a massive undertaking, but there was an appetite for such undertakings, drenched in hope and wonder that wizardkind had been so starved of for generations. entirely new spells to deal with oxygen, and vacuums, and an understanding of the basics of muggle physics were required to manipulate the spells to suit their needs.
was it worth it? the minister for magic had asked, worriedly. when she floated gently above the highest tower of hogwarts, pressing her fingers at the very edge of the bubble that separated it from the star-studded vacuum of darkness just beyond, hermione spared a moment to wonder why it was even a question that needed to have been posed.