NOTE: This could be something that Draco wrote a few years after the end of the Second Wizarding War. I imagine that he would have written it in his son's first years of life, still scarred from the events in the books/movies. Something like the war might make you think a little more about how fragile life is, how short and unpredictable it can be.

Also, this story is based on my personal theory that all wizards have to go to ordinary muggle school before Hogwarts.

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Prologue

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Ever since I was a kid, my father has taught me to hate muggles and the muggle-born.

As a kid, I sort of accepted that, even though I didn't really know what either of those words meant. My father's friends would come over, and I knew their kids were wizards, so I played with them. Then, when I started school, I made friends with the people there.

See, by the way my father talked about muggles and "mudbloods", I assumed they were some kind of monsters, not other people.

So I made friends with some of the other boys in kindergarten. My best friend's name was Alex. I don't remember why it was we got along so well, but I remember that he loved football (A/N: UK football=US soccer). And I mean LOVED it. His older brothers played it, and he really looked up to them, so naturally, he wanted to play it too. His parents signed him up for some kind of peewee football, and he told me I should do it too. I asked my father.

It did not go well.

"FOOTBALL? WE WIZARDS PLAY QUIDDITCH!" He had raged at me. "FILTHY MUGGLE SPORT! FOOTBALL, RIDICULOUS! DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT, DRACO!"

At the mention of muggles, I was confused. "Muggles? Alex never said anything about muggles."

This stopped my father.

"What did you just say?"

When I stared at him blankly, my small brain not even remembering, he said, louder, "WHO IS ALEX?"

I grinned. "Alex is my friend. He loves footba-"

"YOU HAVE A MUGGLE FRIEND?"

"I… I didn't know he was a muggle…", I whimpered at the looming figure of my father. His face was twisted in anger, and he had to take several deep breaths in order to calm down long enough to reply.

"Draco, I don't want you to hang out with Alex anymore."

"How come?" I whined.

"Honestly, Draco," my father said, shaking his head in a disappointed way, "I expected better of my own son. You are befriending those inferior to us, sympathizing with them! You might as well be a squib."

I gasped. "Squib" was a dirty word in my house. We weren't allowed to talk about squibs, ever. I think they were the only people that disgusted my father more than muggles and the muggleborn.

My father walked out of the room, and I was left there, dazed. I remember that my mother came in to soothe me. I must have been crying.

The next day, Alex wasn't at school. Day after day, I looked for him, but he didn't come back. I never found out what happened to him. I suppose I could, but I've always been too afraid to ask.

After Alex disappeared, I stopped making friends with other kids at school. My father told me that they were all muggles, and that I shouldn't be friends with any of them. So I retreated into myself. I imagine my teacher probably mentioned my antisocial nature to my parents at some point, but I doubt that my father found that concerning. My mother always sided with him, so she just suggested having the Crabbe and Goyle families over more often.

The less time I spent with muggles, the easier it was to see them how my father did. I found that I soon began to despise them like him, and to see myself as better than them. I don't know when it happened, but at some point, I stopped even seeing them as real people.

But I'm not the boy I once was. I am not my father. It may not be obvious to the onlooker, but I learned something a long time ago about muggles and so-called "mudbloods". Something I'd forgotten.

Muggles and the muggle-born are people.

They are cruel, ignorant, dishonest. But they can also be kind and intelligent and fair.

We are the same.

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BTW: Lucius didn't kill Alex or his family or anything. But he probably did "persuade" his parents to have him go to a different school.

And I know it seems like Lucius is being extreme, but he is in the highest order of wizard racists, so it's not that unlikely.

NOTE: I will attempt to use correct British terms, but being an American, I'll probably mess that up a few times. "Football" is going to be the hardest, so I'm really sorry if I accidently write "soccer" instead. I might also mess up biscuit vs. cookie/cracker. If you catch any mistakes, please mention it to me and I will fix them.

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