A/N: Sirius and company belong to JK Rowling. I just borrowed them for the purpose of this fic. XD Hope you enjoy! - Lady Billywig

Questioning

There was a little girl, being bullied on the train. It was Andrew Bergman, the one tormenting her. He is my mother's cousin's son, which makes him my cousin also, I suppose, and so I did not do anything. His name is not Black, but he has Black blood running through him. Also he has already been at Hogwarts a whole year and is so much bigger than me that he would crush me like an ant if I do not steer clear of him. I know this because he told me so over the summer.

He does not like me because when we were little I shaved his head. It was not my fault, he taunted my brother.

You do not taunt one of the Blacks. We are a rather vindictive family.

Anyway, this little girl, she had red hair like fire and green eyes like the stones in the necklace my mother wears. Her skin was very fair, and she had those speckles on her skin that my cousin Andromeda calls angel kisses, but everyone else calls freckles. She was pretty, I suppose, but I could tell right away that she was not one of Us.

And so I did not come to her aid. Why should I? Why should I defend someone I am not even acquainted with, a muggle, no less, against my own flesh and blood? There is no reason. Not one, logical reason. Yes, he was bigger than her, yes she was defenseless…but he is my family and she is beneath us.

I do admit that even if she were not of tainted blood, I would still have been hesitant to interfere. But that does not mean I would not have done it. I am not a coward. So you need not think that that is the reason I did not help her.

James helped her, though. He did not seem to even pause to consider the consequences, or to take her bloodline into account. I am not sure that I approve of this heedlessness, though I am sure his intentions were good. However, that is neither here nor there.

We were sitting in our compartment, James Potter and I, along with two other boys who I had not met until today, but who appear to be perfectly respectable. Their names are Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin. My mother had sent several apples in the basket of food she had packed for me, and we were eating them when we heard a commotion across the corridor. Our compartment door was open, you see, to allow cooler air to enter, and so we could hear it all quite clearly.

It seems that this girl, a Miss Lily Evans, was occupying the compartment that Andrew wished to secure for himself and his friends. Finding her inside, he asked her to leave. Well…ordered her, really. She declined, and this caused Andrew's irritation to increase. He has always been quick to anger, I have noticed. He repeated his order, but in firmer terms this time.

He was rather rude to her, actually, and I cannot wholly approve of his actions. One should not be mean just because one is superior. The people beneath you should be treated with kindness or, if you cannot find it in you to be kind, with indifference.

Miss Evans, however, was not inclined to cooperate. She stayed where she was, her chin up and eyeing my cousin with a defiant glance, though I could tell by the way that she trembled that she was a little afraid. I must admit that, whatever her heritage, I admire the pride and dignity that gave her the courage to stand up for herself.

I am afraid, however, that Andrew did not share in my admiration. This seemed to throw him into one of his rages, and I honestly believed that he would have hexed her, had James not intervened at that moment. He had been slouching in his seat, looking thoughtful and, I think, sulky throughout the episode and suddenly he jumped up and strode quickly across the corridor. The other boys and I stood, ready to come to his aid should he need it, but content simply to watch so long as the proceedings remained non-violent.

Which they did, thank Merlin.

James strode into the other compartment and stepped between Mister Bergman and Miss Evans, and glared up at his adversary. "Leave her alone," he commanded, and shoved Andrew a bit. I must say I was quite impressed. I had tried to do the very same thing on numerous occasions, but that had always ended up with me face down in a mud puddle…not exactly a pleasant experience. James, however, did not wait for retaliation. Instead, he grasped Miss Evans by the wrist and smiled at her. "Come on," he said, "You can sit with us." And without further ado, he secured her trunk and brought it and her into our compartment.

I was not sure how to react to this, and it made me very uncomfortable. I am not supposed to associate with people like her, my mother is very clear about this. But what could I do? I did not want to be rude to my friend's guest, as that goes against my mother's teachings as well…but if I allowed her to share a compartment with us, people would talk.

As I was unsure, I decided that, for the moment, I would do nothing. James made the necessary introductions, and fell into conversation with Miss Evans, rattling on in his usual way until she seemed to lose her bashfulness. I was pleased to note that, muggle or not, she seemed to be an intelligent, sensible sort of person. If I had to associate with someone like her, it was best that she was at least somewhat genteel.

And so things were fine for several minutes, the others did not seem to mind her background in the least, and I just sat quietly. But when James offered her an apple from my basket, I knew it was my duty as a Black to step in.

"She can't sit with us," I said simply, and the chattering around me ceased, causing me to blink in surprise.

"What?" James asked, a little incredulously.

I felt a little guilty, I admit, for there did not seem to me to be anything wrong with Miss Evans…but I had to do what mother would want me to do. "She can't," I repeated, "sit with us."

"Why not?"

I paused…but then continued. "She's…muggleborn."

"So?" My friend shrugged, and I frowned. I did not want to offend him, or the young lady in question, who was regarding me with a slightly hurt expression already.

I looked down at my shoes and spoke quietly. "She is inferior."

Silence. For a long, long moment there was silence, and my cheeks burned, though I do not know why.

Finally, James spoke once more. "That's just stupid."

My head snapped back up and I blinked once more, feeling as though I had been slapped. "Wh-what?"

"You heard me," he said with a shrug. "It's stupid. Muggleborns are just like the rest of us." He turned, dismissing me. "So Lily, where're you from?"

The conversation resumed, and I felt…left out of it. But I didn't mind, because I needed to think. No one has ever, ever challenged my beliefs, the beliefs of my family, like that before. I do not know what to think. Certainly Miss Evans seemed like anyone else…nicer, even, than most people I am acquainted with, and this even after I had been rude to her.

I have been feeling vaguely troubled since this encounter, and I only just realized today what it is exactly that has been bothering me, and that is this:

If muggleborns are capable of being intelligent, polite, and kind…or, as James put it, just like the rest of us…then why did my parents warn me against them?

End.