I Own Nothing! All rights belong to JK Rowling
Neville Longbottom, sat in his desk staring at Alecto Carrow, his fat fists clunched into bunches. He was sitting on one side of the class, the "Pure Side" All the pure bloods were moved to one side of the class while all the muggle-borns and half-bloods sat on the other. In other words, Everybody from Gryffindor but himself was sitting in the back, while Neville and the Slytherins were sitting up front. But Neville knew that there was no way in hell that every single Slytherin's ancestry composed solely of wizards. There simply weren't enough of them left. Neville suspected most of them were half-bloods pretending to be pure. But their parents were all buddy-buddy with the Carrows so they got special treatment.
"Professor Mcgonnagal was probably unaware of the word favoritism" Neville thought to himself, grinning a half smile
"her own granddaughter could be in her class and she would not give any sign or implication of it"
Meanwhile, the Carrows made Professor Snape seem impartial to his students (which was saying something) they made no secret of letting everybody know that they favored the Slytherins and even went out of their way to do so. For some, like Draco Malfoy (who was currently sitting at the very front of the class, looking as if all his dreams had come true) it was probably because their father was a higher ranked Death Eater to tem and the Carrows were terrifed that if he heard Draco's claims of being mistreated, he'd make their life a living hell. Or perhaps, they tried to stay on the Dark Lord's good terms by showing favoritism to the house he was in. Whatever the reason, Slytherins were doted on, Ravenclaws were carefully watched, Hufflepuffs were mocked, and Gryffindors were treated like pure dirt.
"Now class, 'o can tell me what muggle-rela'ed bills the min'stry is currently troin to pass for dealing wi' muggles" said the old hag , knocking Neville out of his reverie as though he had been hit in the head.
"The right to perform the Cruciatus Curse them?" suggested Draco Malfoy
"The right to imperius them and make them do our bidding as the natural order meant them to do" suggested Pansy Parkinson, a simpering, pug-faced girl who Lavender Brown called "The Anti-Hermione"
"The scrapping of the Muggle-Protection Act?" asked Theodore Nott, a weedy Slytherin boy, with overlarge ears and nostrils who reminded Neville of a picture of an Otter's skeleton.
"Excellent! Twenty points to Slytherin?" chirped Alecto.
All roight class, toime to begin today's lechoo"
"MUggles are filthy, disgustin' scum o'-the oith whose posishun in the Natural O'der wos to soive as our sloives. Unfochune'ly, they managed to pull some broin's ou' o' their arses an' led an uproisin,' droivin wizard-koind into the shadows, hun'in them fo' bein they superiors an' oll that"
On and on the humpack'ed old crone went, talking about how muggles were filthy, disgusting creatures who were made to be ruled by wizards"
Neville felt rage pulsing through his veins along with his blood. This was the same, magic-is-might nonsense that his Gran would have smacked him hard if she'd heard him say.
He remembered everything that she had told him about Muggles
"Now Neville, you listen to me and listen good. Do not get the slightest notion into your head that just because we can do magic, we're any better than muggles. We are not. Not in the least. Magic can do many wonderful things but it can not give us a rise in status above them. We are all human aren't we? Magic does not make us better than muggles, Neville. Just different."
"Gran's right. There's absolutely no reason why Draco Malfoy should be favored over the friendly muggle boy who used to do Gran's shopping'' thought Neville angrily, as Carrow began discussing how to tell apart wizards from muggles by their smell. Aparently, according to her, the best wizards could smell them from miles away. Muggles, she said had a scent that was a combination of rancid manure, rotten eggs, and Stinksap"
"I dunno about that Madam Carrow" said Seamus Finnegan.
"Me dad's a muggle and he smells ten times better than you and your brother"
"Carrow turned red as a beet, giving Neville the impression that her fat, pudgy face (which looked to Neville as though somebody had tried to draw a dace on a tray of rising bread dough) was about to burst. Her features contorted with rage, which was something short of a miracle, considering that her face was so pudgy, and fat, that it seemed impossible to be able to move at all.
"You will stay behoind when class is over Mister Finnigan" she hissed
"You and Oi are gorna 'ave a li'il chat"
"I can hardly wait" said Seamus in a bored voice, smothering a tiny grain of fear.
As Carrow began continuing the lecture, Neville suddenly realized something
"Seamus is standing up to the Carrows. He's proving himself to be a true Gryffindor"
Five minutes later, another wave of realization swept over him, this one mightier and stronger than the first one
"What would Harry say, if he saw what the Carrows were talking about? He wouldn't stand for it He'd probably be standing up to Carrow, telling her she was wrong. That's exactly what he did when the old crone Umbridge was here. But Harry isn't around anymore"
Neville took a deep breath. He knew what he must do. He'd probably get crucified for ten minutes by the Carrows but perhaps it just might be what gave the school an inkling that the Carrows didn't have as much power as they thought.
With another deep breath, he raised his hand in the air and waited for Carrow to call on him.
"And that is 'ow low and stupid muggles are compared to wizards and-oh wot is it Longbottom" she snapped.
"Professor Carrow," asked Neville.
"How much muggle blood have you and your brother got?"