Disclaimer: This universe and the characters within it are not my own. They belong to Warner Bros. Entertainment, J.K. Rowling, RDR Books, Scholastic Books, and whoever else. This is a work of FanFiction that no one will be profiting off of. Honestly, no copyright infringement is intended in the slightest.

Author's Note: Sorry for the wait. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy the second chapter! [[ Reviews deeply appreciated ;) ]]

Chapter Two

Draco glided through the rest of the day after potions without his usual air of Malfoyity. He thought a few of the other Slytherins were suspicious, and put out word that he wasn't feeling well. Close contact with a mudblood was thought to be unsafe, so no one found it too hard to believe.

Naturally, 'the best lies are ninety percent true,' was, in fact, true. He certainly didn't feel well, though he didn't feel sick. And, it was definitely brought on by Granger. He figured he was just still in shock that she had been so rude and so wrong, but part of him was aware that that wasn't true.

Because, you lead a life of ignorance. And why would anyone choose a life of ignorance? To avoid the pain that comes with accepting reality. Lying to yourself and struggling to believe it. Not brave enough to face the truth. Cowardice. That's all it is, cowardice.

When had he ever been lied to, by himself? That didn't even make sense. Clearly, if you were lying to yourself it would be fruitless, as you can tell? Somewhere you would know that it was a lie. Like just now, he thought, as he lay awake in bed, I told myself it was shock, and I knew it isn't... it's doubt.

Could Granger be right? She was acclaimed to be the brightest witch in their class. And she wasn't in Ravenclaw, she was in Gryfindor. So, she'd have to know something about bravery, and anything she knew was likely to be accurate. But, perhaps she knew that he would think her credible, he considered, maybe she would expect me to think her honest. She could be trying to get inside his head, for Potter, or out of her own hatred for him. Just thought she'd mess with him. No, he thought, no that's something I'd do. Something a Slytherin would do...

If you ask me, the soul quality of a Slytherin is not cunning, but cowardice. Perhaps it takes cunning to pass off a lie as the truth, but to lie at all requires cowardice in one form or another... There is a reason why the lion hunts in a pack while the snake slithers alone.

Cowardice? Would it be cowardly to try to psych someone out? No. It would be, well, cunning. Clever. Choice. But then, if you faced them off properly, you wouldn't need to psych them out. The reason for not doing that would be that it would bring unnecessary harm to yourself. And maybe others. It wasn't cowardly to not want yourself bloodied up, surely it was sane! Anyone in their right minds would do the same. No, Draco corrected, that wasn't entirely true. Potter wouldn't. Because he's foolish, or because he's brave?

Did you have to be foolish to some extent to be brave, and cowardly to some extent to be cunning? That didn't seem fare. Cunning and foolish felt like opposites, and so did brave and cowardly. If Slytherin was cowardly, than Gryfindor was foolish, because they each were always one the other wasn't.

What was he thinking? Slytherin wasn't cowardly at all! That Granger, however smart and honest and noble, was a fool, a bias fool who couldn't think objectively of Slytherin! If Draco wanted to discuss such a thing properly with someone, they couldn't be in either house.

But, no, he couldn't do that. Someone would have to be out of their right mind to agree to keep quiet about it, or at least mad enough to not be taken seriously if they leaked information. And there wasn't anyone like that at school, that he was almost glad of.

Draco rolled onto his side, shifting about uncomfortably, before finally he fell into a troubled sleep.

~o~

"And you promise you won't tell anyone?"

"Oh, yes, of course."

"This is so demeaning. I can't believe I'm talking to you."

"I can't either. I think you must have been bitten by a Northern Geaishkavi. Bites can result in wild personality changes, you see. But don't worry, in a few hours you'll be your old self and you wont even remember this. Do you know when you were bitten? It feels sort of like a bee sting, but more furry. Father was bitten once, dreadful day."

"Yeah, well, I can't recall, Lovegood, probably sometime in the hallway. Anyway, what I wanted to ask you was, well, do you think Slytherins are cowardly, or cunning? And, are Gryffindors fool-hearty or pure of heart?"

"It must have been a full grown Geaishkavi."

"Yeah, I bet. So, what do you think?"

"I think that it must have been full grown."

"No! About what I asked you!"

"Oh, well that's easy. Both, really, it depends on the person. Some are more cowardly than others, some more cunning, but all are a little bit of both, at least, I should think."

"Do you think I'm a coward?"

"You came to talk with a Ravenclaw girl you usually snicker at. You're in the hallway without your two larger friends-- Carp and Hopkins, I think they were, those stalky ones-- so, you're either brave-" Draco's heart lifted, though he tried to stop it, "-Or you're desperate enough to get over one fear to try and avoid another. Personally, I think it's the Geaishkavi. If you would wear more pink you wouldn't have this problem. I think it's your hair-- I'm a blond too, and I seems to meet them a lot."

"Yeah, well, don't mention this to anyone, Lovegood. If you do, I'll know."

"Will you send Carp and Hopkins after me?"

"What? I think you know the answer."

"Oh, good!"

~o~

Your father, like you, will never be respected, because of the coward he is. Cowards do not command respect. They can, on occasion, command fear from those who give it. But from the brave they only receive pity. And so, I pity you, Malfoy.

Pity! The nerve. He didn't need her pity; it was probably as filthy as her blood. Oh, how he loathed Hermione Granger. Almost anything about her made his insides squirm with disapproval. In fact, sometimes, on particularly quiet days, he could just sit there and think of all the things he hated about her. He had a list, in his head, of all the things he hated about many people, but none of them made him as passionately upset as Granger's.

"You gonnar eat that, Draco?"

"No Crabbe," he replied, not hiding the note of disgust in his voice, "And I surely don't want to watch you eat it either."

"It looks good... why aren' you gonnar eat it?"

"Because, Goyle, when you're hungry you're more aware. It's always good to be a little hungry, makes you wittier."

"Oh. So tha's why you're skinny."

"No, that's natural. But I think that's why you're fat."

"My father says I'm growing."

"You know, Crabbe, I'm not sure if anyone's ever told you, but most people grow vertically too."

"My mum says not everyone is perfect."

"You're mum's right, Goyle, there is only one Draco Malfoy."

There is a longing inside everyone, a desire if you will, to be flawless. Perfect. Magnificent. Most people realize that they aren't flawless early on in life.

Just because Grangerwanted desperately to read and improve herself constantly didn't mean everyone else did. Draco was fine as he was. And Pureblooded, to boot. Draco recalled all of those awkward shouting matches at the dinner table in his first few years at school.

A Mudblood girl bested you in all your classes? Do you enjoy spitting on the Malfoy name? You may as well splatter dirty blood on it! Go marry that Mudblood girl, then, maybe you'll have a chance at smart kids! You, my son!

It was ridiculous to expect everyone to try so hard. Granger and his dad could go get married for all he cared, and take their asinine expectations with them. This thought made him particularly angry. His heart did an angry, spiteful flop.

To accept that you aren't the best, that you have flaws, and to try and better yourself takes courage. It takes strength of character and heart. It takes, really, integrity.

That was stupid. Just something losers told themselves to trick them into thinking that they'd never really lost. And it was different for Granger. She really wasn't the best. Draco was. He'd been told it since the day he was born.

Rather than altering themselves to change how they're seen, they try instead to change the way that they see others. Rather than fighting to win, they delude themselves into thinking that others have lost, that they're the only ones who can win.

The stupid Granger-voice in his head had a reply for everything. Thank Merlin's kilt dinner was almost over and he'd be to sleep soon.