Hello again! Thank you for reading my first chapter and I hope you enjoy this one :)

I was walking to my transfiguration class when it happened. It was a beautiful day and the sun was shining brightly over Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Since it was only October, the still air only carried a slight chill with it. Many students were lounging about in the courtyard awaiting their next class—completely carefree.

If I hadn't been so full of worry about Harry and his stupid potions book, I would have taken the time to enjoy the scenery.

Professor McGonagall's class always provided a sort of escape for me. I loved the art of transfiguration, and concentrating on the work always helped clear my head immensely. Putting one foot in front of the other, padding my way to her classroom.

I was lost in thought about who the Half Blood Prince was and why he didn't appear in library books. He obviously had to be bad news...and Harry had experience with how evil unknown books could be! Yet he still remained stagnant in his idea that the Half-Blood Prince's book was harmless. The frustration over the topic was beginning to boil inside me when Draco Malfoy called out my name.

"Oi! Granger!"

He always pestered me. One day it would be my hair, the next my teeth, and almost always my blood. He made me feel hideous and foolish...like I didn't belong in hogwarts. Like the mudblood I was.

Most of the time I was able to keep calm and not jinx him into the next century like I wanted to do so badly, but I was already in a poor mood. He was standing with those stupid goons of his, Crabbe and Goyle. The expensive Slytherin robe he wore was wrapped tightly around him as he leaned lazily against the ancient walls of Hogwarts.

I turned to him sharply and balled up my fists. He took in my angered position and sneered viciously.

I could see there was something different about him. He still appeared obnoxious and extremely arrogant, but his face was strangely hollow. His eyes were shining slightly with feeling; something I had never witnessed.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" I inquired tiredly. I was sick of the horrible games he often played.

"I was just wondering...if I slit open your throat, would your blood actually be the color of mud?"

Even after so many years, the prejudice still cut into my heart like a knife and a certain sorrow filled my heart and spread until it reached my toes. How could someone treat another person like the scum under their boots just because of their heritage?

There were so many purebloods that I could triumph over in every class...transfiguration, defense against the dark arts, and even potions. Yet somehow they remained above me simply because my parents were muggles. How could someone be discriminated against because my mum and dad, so sweet and innocent, simply existed.

I attempted to hide the effect his words were having on me and schooled a look of indifference onto my face as if his statement didn't bother me.

"I don't know, Malfoy, but if I cut your brain open, would it actually be hollow?"

The hallway remained silent for a moment as Draco Malfoy took in my statement, and

his reaction was not what I expected. The blonde haired wizard's eyes turned from menacing to murderous and he practically jumped at me. He grabbed both of my arms and yanked them behind my back. A yelp escaped me.

"DONT YOU EVER INSULT MY INTELLIGENCE, MUDBLOOD. DO YOU HEAR ME?"

I was amazed. Of course nobody wanted to be called unintelligent, but the amount of defense pouring off of him in that moment showed how much it infuriated him.

Tears were pooling in my eyes, but I wasn't sure if it was from the pain in my arms or the awful term he used. We had fought verbally on many occasions, but Malfoy had never touched me. Never caused physical pain.

I tried forcing myself to talk in an ordinary and relaxed voice to convince him he wasn't effecting me.

"Tell me Malfoy, if you're so intelligent, do you really believe my blood is made of mud?"

Malfoy's grip on me loosened as my statement hung in the air, so I took the chance to escape from his clutches. For a reason unknown he didn't grab at me again.

Draco Malfoy understood that I didn't mean mud and filth physically. He knew very well that the blood in my veins was just as red as his. In reality, he actually was quite intelligent, only flawed due to the way he was raised. He knew what I meant.

I was asking him if he really thought he was better than me because I had muggle blood; if my parents really changed how talented of a witch I was.

Draco Malfoy had to know deep inside that we were equals. That I was given the same marks as him. That my spells were just as powerful. That my future was just as rich and bright. I could see it in his eyes as soon as I asked my final question.

The atmosphere around us was full of tension as I walked away. I didn't turn back.

I'm apologizing that this chapter was quite short, but I felt it was necessary for this particular scene.

With love, eloquence7