I do not own anything because I am not nearly amazing enough to be J. ... *Openly Weeps*

The news cut through the students mercilessly causing them to react with varying degrees of astonishment and resentment. Tensions were at an insurmountable high. Every individual, though too young to have been a part of the war, had been affected by it in their own way; some were orphans, others had family still in Azkaban, many simply had resentment passed on to them through being either muggleborn or pure blood. The news had quickly sparked a passionate debate about the Second Wizarding War and roles each notable "character" (as Hogwarts: A History's newest addition referred to them as) played in it. The epicenter of the verbal ping-pong match was the Death Eater mentality of the, then, students and their actions during the war.

"But you were the same age!" Shouted the impassioned girl, or young woman one should say in reality. "It was a choice, a decision, that he made. Why would he be pardoned for his actions when he should have been able to see it was wrong! He should be in Azkaban!"

Their History of Magic professor sighed heavily and sunk uncharacteristically into her shoulders and leaned into the edge of her desk, an equally rare sight, with a forlorn look on her face that told them she had resigned herself to delving further into this conversation than she had intended. Though her student's declaration was understandable, she was tired of disproving it. However, this was History of Magic, and her sense of obligation compelled her to accept the impending conversation as it had viable, educational roots in their coursework. In all honesty, it was surprising it had taken until her announcement, which was made only weeks before the end of the term, for this particular argument to come about.

"Ms. Taylor." Addressed the professor sharply, promptly putting an end to the student's tirade. "Will you please tell me what color the sky typically is."

"Wha-" Began the bewildered girl. Her face clearly conveying that her favorite teacher had lost all sense.

"The sky, Ms. Taylor. What color is it."

"Blue, professor. But I really don't understand how that's even releve-"

"Unfortunately, Ms. Taylor, you are wrong. The color is red, not blue. Quite obviously so, I might add." The professor stated shrewdly after interrupting her student for the third time.

"Professor, that doesn't make any sense. Everyone knows the sky is blue."

"I fear you have been vastly misinformed. A great travesty it is, too."

Perplexed and flustered, the girl bubbled over in fury to hide her insecurity. Much like her professor, she was muggleborn and felt she must overcompensate for her insecurities by always knowing just a little bit more than others. It was why she was so partial to this particular teacher to begin with.

"No! The molecules in the air scatter blue light from the sun more than they scatter red light. When we look towards the sun at sunset we see red and orange colors because the blue light has been scattered out and away from the line of sight. But during the day, when there is no cloud coverage, the sky is blue."

Her face was indignant, proud. She jutted her chin just a little bit forward to show she was confident she had just won the argument, even though she was still feeling the effects of being thrown off kilter by the original contradiction.

"While I am impressed with your knowledge of muggle science," placated the professor, "it is actually the red molecules that scatter during the day, not the blue. Perhaps you are color blind?"

"What are you talking about, professor?" Cried out in a despaired tone, now feeling hyper-insecure and personally insulted by someone she trusted.

"You are angry, I see. Why are you so upset, Ms. Taylor? Certainly, you must comprehend that by not accepting that you've been misinformed, and by being stubbornly unwilling to see otherwise, that you are passing down out of date information which ultimately leads to another generation of ignorant individuals?" Snarked the normally encouraging and nurturing professor. "The sky is red." She reinforced. "I do understand new information can be confronting, but you really must accept that this is my truth and now it is your truth. What I do not understand, however, is why you are reacting in such a volatile way."

"BECAUSE YOU'RE WRONG!" She finally shrieked as she jumped to her feet and slamming her hands down on the desk in front of her.

Shocked by her own outburst, she slowly dropped her hands, letting them hang defeatedly at her sides. The class was now eerily quiet and it seemed none of the students could bring themselves to make any sort of eye contact as their professor simply observed Ms. Taylor with a calculating gaze. When the girl finally sagged back down to her seat, she was met by the newly softened face of her professor who was now looking at her sympathetically as if imploring the student to forgive her.

"Ms. Taylor," she began in a murmur that still managed to pierce the intense stillness of the now reticent class. "We are talking about the color of the sky. Something that, really, has no bearing on our lives." She hesitantly cleared her throat to continue with a little more strength.

"Can you understand now," she said almost pleadingly, "how someone like a sixteen-year-old Draco Malfoy felt when told everything he'd been indoctrinated to believe was false? Think about the violent rage you felt when your intelligence, and a simple truth, were contradicted. Now imagine being part of a privileged and restricted circle where all you know are the truths you've been taught which validate you as special, superior, and give you confidence, meaning, and purpose. Now imagine being exposed to what is outside of your bubble only to have people tell you 'no.' To have people tell you that everything you have been bred to believe, and have been told by your doting parents, is poppycock. Imagine being told that if you do not betray your upbringing immediately, you are nothing but inbred, imbecilic, and are inherently evil. As students of the exact same age that he was at the time, can you identify how confusing, verging on disturbing, that would be?"

She paused to take a breath and look around the classroom to see comprehension slowly dawn on her students' faces.

"Now. Think about the actions you would take. Imagine, after clinging to the rose colored memories of youth, and to anything that nurtured your insecure and naive need to believe in your childhood tutelage, that you have gotten in too deep. What would you do if by the time you saw the reality of how backward everything you believed in was, it was too late to escape."

Her students were now looking around at each other and squirming in their seats, uncomfortable that their personal morals were being confronted so unapologetically.

"What would you do if you had a wand pointed at you on one side and the bridge you could have escaped on but have irreparably burned, on the other. Would you have enough conviction to turn against that wand, even if it meant your life? Your family's lives? Would you have enough courage to try and cross the bridge anyway, only to be struck in the back by that wand and knowing it would still also result in the death of your family? Or would you stand stalk still and do nothing?"

At this, there began statements of quiet indignation about how doing nothing was not an answer to the problem, while conveniently glossing over their disappointment in themselves in knowing they would not have been able to make one of the other two choices.

"Because in the case of Draco Malfoy, that 'nothing' is the reason the Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and myself, stayed alive long enough to finish the war. By choosing 'nothing,' Draco Malfoy accepted his entire existence had been a lie more readily than you would have the notion of the sky being a different color than blue."

Sharp intakes of breath were heard throughout the classroom while other students settling for gulping guiltily at their own ignorant assumptions.

Professor Granger held up her hands placatingly, understanding their resentment at realizing their black and white ideas of good and bad had just been thrown into the proverbial deep end of "the gray scale." She could understand their confusion seeing as they did not, thank Merlin, have a war-riddled childhood forcing them to understand the concept prematurely. Once the class had settled once more, she was determined to move them toward a conclusion, admonishing herself over the fact that she'd made the decision to make her announcement before she'd had her afternoon cuppa.

"You are growing up in a very different world than we did during the Second Wizarding War." She reconciled, sighing in relief that the worst of the discussion was over.

"Tolerance is a human condition, but the enforcement of it is much more a muggle standard than it is a wizarding one; although, post-WWII we have begun to set those standards into legal motion, albeit slowly."

The professor suddenly straightened herself up on her feet and clapped her hands loudly together. The students' heads snapped to attention, understanding that this meant the end of "the announcement controversy," and the beginning of the lesson.

"That being said, this tolerance is a perfect segue into our more recent human rights history. Ten points to the student who can recite the dates that legislation was finally passed for each legal rights supporting Magical Creatures marriages, by the sentient creature, and same-sex marriages in Wizarding Britain. In that order, please."

A tentative hand was raised toward the back and was immediately called upon.

"Ah! Yes, Mr. Brown, if you will."