"Ouch!" Draco said, glaring at the girl and the offending piece of parchment that had just struck him from across the Slytherin common room. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Serves you right for sitting in front of the trash can," Dawn snapped back.
"Bin," Draco corrected automatically. "Can't you even speak English?"
"Nope," she replied, frowning down at the new piece of parchment, before scratching a few more words with her quill. "I'm American, after all."
"Filthy little mudblood," he hissed. "What in blazes are you doing, anyways?"
"That essay that Flitwick assigned me for not using my wand in class again," she replied, matter of factly. "Two feet on the proper use of wands and why it is disastrous to not use one. Thing is, there isn't any real reason why you should have to use a wand.
"This," she continued, holding up one of her books, "says that the wand is used to regulate the flow of magic to prevent certain types of mishaps. It's like Dumbo."
"Dumb-who?"
"I keep forgetting that purebloods like you are too good for modern inventions, like the wheel. It's a movie. About a flying elephant. Except he thought he couldn't fly without the aid of a magic feather, but the feather wasn't really magic. But that's besides the point. What everything I'm reading says is that the wand helps regulate magic, and prevent backlash from flowing into the caster. It's a magic feather as far as spellcasting goes. You shouldn't need it if you know your magic."
Draco gaped, wondering if she even breathed once in that long tirade. "But every self-respecting witch or wizard uses a wand."
"Maybe you all are just too set in your ways to do the smart thing and rely on just what you have within."