So, I've finally been able to begin reconstructing this story, and I'm pretty pleased so far with how it has been turning out. If you haven't noticed, I've been combining chapters and adding in more detail to help enhance the story so you can better understand what I imagine as I write! Hopefully you are still happy with this fanfic and I promise to finish this revision as quickly as possible, because I'm sure you are just as anxious as I to add new content.

Also, I am already preparing to write a prequel to this story set in the Maurader's Era. I was thinking Lily/James (because I absolutely adore that paring) and Remus/OC for reasons that will become more apparent in later chapters.

Anyways, thanks for reading! I guess all there's left to say is review!

(I do not own Harry Potter, they strictly belong to the amazingly talented JK Rowling...the only characters that are truly mine *so far...I may add more OCs in back stories or something* are Cassandra Bellamy, Jude Mitchell, Beatrice Mitchell and their parents)

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had never been completely open with Beatrice about whatever mystery they were attempting to solve, but she hadn't thought much of it. Then again, she didn't realize exactly how dangerous their little 'adventure' was until she had heard that Harry had been found in some secret room, unconscious, and was presently being tended to by Madam Pomfrey. Upon hearing of this, Beatrice immediately hurried in the direction of the Hospital Wing. By the time she entered the hospital, she was panting, coming to an abrupt halt as she watched Madam Pomfrey shepard a rather large group of girls from the room.

She sighed, looking at Beatrice with a tired, uncertain gaze. "You aren't another secret admirer, are you?" she asked wearily. "That lot that I just removed was the second group I've had today!" she exclaimed, shaking her head in utter disbelief. She nodded her head towards Harry's unconscious form. "He's quite the popular young man, if I do say so, myself."

Beatrice shook here head, trying her best to stifle a grin. "No," she assured her. "I'm just a friend."

Madam Pomfrey sighed again, this time with relief. "Then, by all means, stay as long as you want...but if any of those girls come back in, could you do me favor and send them out? I'm not sure how long I can be cordial about it." she admitted with a wry smile. "I'll be in my office," she continued. "Tell me when you leave."

Beatrice nodded and took a seat in the chair next to Harry's bed. She watched his chest move up and down for a few seconds, just to be sure that he was still breathing, as he had been so still that she couldn't be certain less she examined him closely. He was bruised in several places, including his arms and legs, elsewhere, there were fresh scabs where he had bled, such as one of his wrists and a thin cut upon his cheek, and his left arm bound in a cast, resting limply upon his slowly rising chest. Beatrice could hardly stand to see him in such a state. He seemed so fragile and helpless, but no matter what she tried, she knew she couldn't help him.

She glanced over at all the gifts and cards stacked upon his bedside table and food tray. Among them was a get well card shaped like a snitch that was charmed to flutter a little off the surface of the table and flash 'Get well soon, love the Gryffindor Qudditch team' on either wing. She smiled and returned her gaze to Harry. "The Quidditch team has been by, I see." she said, smiling fondly and the card. "I mean, I suppose they're a little bummed that we lost the Quidditch house cup, their star Seeker being in the hospital and all, but everyone is more concerned about your well-being than a trophy..." she sighed, her eyes cast downward. "I don't know what happened and I doubt I ever will, but I care about you, Harry. You're my best friend...I wouldn't have told you what I did if I didn't trust you completely...of course you'll never hear this..." she sighed again, this time at her stupidity. "Just get yourself better so that we can all stop worrying." she smiled sadly, hesitantly rising from her seat.

Carefully, she placed her card among his other gifts before gazing back at him. "I hope you don't mind," she said, her lips curving into a grin. "It's nothing special, just an ordinary Muggle card, but I hope you'll like it anyways." Giving him one last glance, she took her leave.

The summer season was quickly approaching and before Beatrice knew it, the time had come to return home. Glumly, she walked down to Hogsmeade Station with the other students, but paused before boarding the Hogwarts Express, glancing once more at the magnificent castle which she had come to know as home. Sighing sadly, she climbed aboard the train and sauntered to the compartment where her friends awaited her. Greeting them with a smile, she took a seat beside Hermione. "Promise me that you'll write this summer," she said, meeting each one of her new-found friends with a hopeful look. "All of you."

"Of course!" Hermione exclaimed right away, taking Beatrice's hand and squeezing it fondly. "All the time!"

"Yeah, me, too!" Ron promised, "I can't promise that my brothers won't intercept them..." he sighed in resignation. "They have a bad habit of doing that..."

Beatrice laughed. "I wouldn't doubt it." Pressing her lips together, her eyes met Harry. His eyes were cast downward, his lips pressed together tentatively. She knew very well what was going through his mind. Over the school year, he'd told all of them about how horrible the Dursley's were to him and she immediately felt guilty for assuming that his Aunt and Uncle would allow him to write her. "Harry..."

He shook his head, meeting her gaze decisively. "I will write." he declared. "I'll miss you...all of you." He grinned broadly, meeting each one of their gazes, each grinning in return.

"Summer will be over before we know it." Hermione assured him.

"Yeah," Beatrice interjected. "Until then, we'll just have to make the distance between us seem shorter."

Beatrice couldn't possible ask for better friends. As the train chugged by the British countryside they chatted merrily about the memories which they'd made that year and their anticipation that they had already begun to experience for the upcoming school term. Though going home was a sad reminder that they wouldn't be returning to Hogwarts until after the summer holiday, she felt comforted to have true friends which she could rely on and provide her with a much-needed sense of belonging.

Beatrice's summer mainly consisted of writing Harry, Ron, and Hermione...occasionally one of her letters to Ron intercepted by either Fred or George resulting in an apologetic reply from Ron for the prank letter. Harry never seemed to reply to any of her letters, but she supposed it was because of his Aunt and Uncle...from what he told her about them last year, she wasn't too surprised. Despite this, Beatrice was pleased to find that Hermione lived not too far from her in a quiet neighborhood no more than 15 minutes (by bicycle) from her foster home. Having made this discovery, the two girls quickly arranged to meet up in person, which resulted in several sleepovers and day excursions, much to the delight of the pair.

In addition, Cedric, had also been a frequent visitor. He seemed different to Beatrice...before only consumed with Quidditch and whatever else he and Jude talked about, he now seemed very interested in whatever she was doing or thinking. She found it odd, but rather flattering at the same time. What girl wouldn't want attention from a handsome older lad like him? She had always secretly fancied him, but she never imagined she would ever get attention in return, after all, why would she? He was three years older than she, he was popular and well-liked and every girl admired him in some way or another, is was difficult to believe that he could possibly fancy her of all people, but she figured there was no harm in enjoying the attention while it last.

"I dunno," said Hermione as he pressed her lips in thought after listening intently to Beatrice's recount of Cedric's strange behavior. "Perhaps he's just trying to be nice." she suggested with a shrug.

It was a pleasant summer day and the two girls had decided to go to the park to enjoy one of the last days of the summer holiday. Currently, they had been sitting on the swings chatting about anything that came to their mind, as they often found themselves doing, which, more recently has always shifted to the topic of boys. Beatrice sighed as the pushed softly off of the ground with her feet. "I suppose."

"I-I'm not saying that it's not a possiblity that he fancies you." Hermione said quickly, upon noticing Beatrice's disappointment. "I was just saying that maybe we shouldn't jump to conclusions is all..."

Beatrice nodded. "I know." she said. "I doesn't really matter, anyways." she lied. Clearing her throat in her discomfort, she was quick to change the subject. "So, you mentioned a book signing this weekend?"

Nodding enthusiastically, a bright smile grew upon her face. "Oh, yes!" she exclaimed happily, "Gilderoy Lockhart is coming to Flourish and Blotts this saturday for a book signing and I'm so excited! Oh, Bea, he's so handsome and his books are utterly fascinating! He writes them from his own, personal adventures. He's so brave!" she swooned, "Anyways, I was wondering if you would like to go with me." she posed hopefully. "We have to go to Diagon Alley anyways to get our new school supplies, it being the weekend before the start of term, and I figured that we could make an event of it. Maybe you could stay the night and..."

"Of course I'll go with you." Beatrice replied with a small smile. "It seems like fun."

Smiling broadly, Hermione shoved the ground roughly, prepelling her swing high into the air. "Brilliant!" She proceeded to babble on about Lockhart and his 'visual perfection', as she put it, and about how excited she was that she come, etc, though Beatrice listened half heartedly. Propelling herself lightly on the swing as her thoughts continually returned to Ced.

It had been a long day of shopping, Beatrice and Hermione had found nearly all of their supplies, which they'd already been loaded into the Granger's car, and were currently entering Flourish and Blotts when they found themselves surrounded by a multitude of red-haired figures. Ron Weasley made his way to the front of his rather large family and grinned at the pair of them happily. "I was hoping we'd run into you two!" he said, hugging both of them in turn, "We traveled by flo powder-sort of like magical ash that will transport you wherever you tell it to take you." he added, noting their apparent confusion. "Anyways, Harry had come with us, but he's seemed to have ended up in a different grate..."

"How did he get to your house in the first place?" Beatrice inquired. "Surely his Aunt and Uncle didn't just let him come. They haven't allowed him to answer our letters, much less allowing him to come to Diagon Alley with us."

"That's where we come in," said Fred, pushing his way into view, followed by his twin. Grinning broadly, his gaze lingered on Beatrice as he leaned against the nearest bookshelf, smirking confidently.

"It was truly brilliant." George added, greeting both Beatrice and Hermione polietly, he resumed his position by Fred, crossing his arms over his chest casually. "We took the Ford Anglia and broke him out."

"His uncle had put bars on his window," Fred explained, "We used a grappling hook and pulled them right off the brick! It was great, you should've seen the look on his Uncle's face when we flew away! I'd never seen someone turn so many colors, the Walrus!"

"Flew?" Beatrice repeated in disbelief.

Ignoring her shock, Fred sighed, continuing with his recount. "Yeah, if only we hadn't been caught...Mum gave us an earful."

He opened his mouth to continue when Harry arrived, trailing behind Hermione, who had gone to fetch her mother's purse which had been left in the car. Beatrice smiled broadly, rushing over to give him a hug. "It's good to see you again, Harry."

She had just barely released him when Mrs. Weasley bustled over, dusting him off and making a fuss. "Thank goodness, Harry!" she exclaimed, patting his cheekings dotingly. "We were hoping you had only gone a grate too far!"

Beatrice was quiet certain that she would've continued with her thorough examination if she hadn't been distracted by the introduction of Gilderoy Lockhart. Her eyes widened and she quickly attempted to smooth her wild red curls and scrub the soot off her cheeks as a young Wizard stepped out from behind a bookcase, grinning broadly at the crowd before him. "Here he is..." she breathes, clutching the hem of her cloak in her excitment, in attempts to appear calm and collected.

Ron rolled his eyes, leaning towards his friends he muttered under his breath. "Mum fancies him." Which earned him a shove to the arm from his mother.

Giggling, Beatrice cupped her hands over her mouth, chatting under her breath with the Weasley boys and Harry whilst Hermione, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were entraptured by Lockhart. Mostly all she had taken from the signing was that Gilderoy Lockhart was quite possibly the most arrogant man alive and that the majority of his fans where middle-aged witches that only seemed to like him for his looks and hardly for his 'accomplishments'. Honestly, Beatrice highly doubted that a buffoon like him had actually done all the miraculous deeds that he claimed to have done, but she would never admit that to Hermione, of course.

Chatting merrily amongst themselves, they were about to leave the bookshop when they were suddenly stopped by Draco Malfoy, a horrid boy who thought he was superior to everyone else just because of his Pureblood status. He sneered at each of them in turn, before fixing his glare upon Harry. "I bet you loved that, Potter," he spat, referring to when Lockhart had grabbed Harry for a picture that was most likely to be put on the front page of the Daily Prophet. "Famous Harry Potter can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."

Ginny Weasley, Ron's youngest sibling stood confidently in front of him. "Leave him alone." she snapped, meeting him with an equally intense glare. She scowled, refusing to back down as she crossed her arms defensively, sizing Draco up.

Despite this, Draco's lips broke into an amused grin. "Look, Potter. You've got yourself a girlfriend." he teased.

"Now, now, Draco, play nicely." A tall, hard-looking wizard with striking blonde hair that fell smoothly upon his shoulders pulled him aside. Regarding his son lazily, he switched his icy blue eyes upon the Weasley children, Hermione, Harry and Beatrice haughtily. Lucius Malfoy clenched his jaw sternly. Beatrice knew what Draco was like, she couldn't imagine his father being much better. Glancing at the snake at the head of his cane, her suspicions had been proven correct. "Mr. Potter," he held out his hand sharply, "Lucius Malfoy, we meet at last."

He pulled him closer, brushing aside Harry'd thick jet-black hair. "Forgive me." he near-whispered, peering at the lightning bolt shaped scar intently. "Your scar is legend. As, of course, is the wizard who gave it to you."

Harry clenched his lips together defensively. "Voldemort killed my parents." he stated firmly, his voice strong and unwavering. "He was nothing more than a murderer."

"You must be very brave to mention his name." said Lucius, raising his eyebrows in his casual manner. "Or very foolish."

"Fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself." Hermione countered, her eyebrows narrowing at the Malfoys.

"And you must be Miss. Granger." Lucius continued with his smooth, malicious tone. Pretending to have not heard her comment, he gazed upon the young bushy haired witch with an immense distaste. "Yes, Draco has told me all about you." he continued. Looking about the store with his callous stare, his eyes fell upon Hermione's parents, who were presently talking with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, unaware of the loathsome man that scrutinized them with unrelenting prejudice. "Muggles, aren't they?"

Having not received an answer, he shifted his attack to Beatrice, who stood beside her, her fists clenched so roughly that her knuckles had turned white. Noting her anger, he smiled smugly, examining the small girl with apparent amusement, which only fueled her fury. "And you, Miss. Mitchell, I know quite well." he noted. "Yes, your mother is as much of a blood traitor as you can get. Now you can see where marrying that Muggle has gotten her now. Dead, is she?" he uttered coldly. "Though you may be a Half-blood by birth, you're no better than the other Mudbloods who have the audacity to claim the sacred name of Wizard."

Beatrice shuttered at the mentioning of her mother. "Let me see," he had continued, having moved on to the Weasleys before she regained the ability to form words. Taking Ginny's book out of her cauldron, he chuckled pompously. "Red hair, vacant expressions...tatty, secondhand book. You must be the Weasleys."

"Children," cut in Mr. Weasley, before the torment carried too far over to his own children. "It's mad in here. Let's go outside." Offering them a rather forced smile, he began sheparding them outside of the shop, but Malfoy, unrelenting as he was, stood in his way.

"Well, well, well, Weasley senior."

Mr. Weasley pursed his lips, regarding his colleague with strained reluctance. "Lucius."

"Busy time at the Ministry, Arthur, with all those extra raids? I do hope they're paying you overtime...but judging by the state of this, I'd say not." Lucius declared. "What's the use in being a disgrace to the name of Wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

"We have a very different idea about what disgraces the name of Wizard, Malfoy." Mr. Weasley challenged, standing before the children protectively.

"Clearly." Malfoy stated, clenching his jaw riggidly. "Associating with Muggles," he shook his head, clicking his tongue with disapproval as he slipped Ginny's book back into her caldron...or no, there was two...was there two before? Never mind. "And I thought your family could sink no lower." he commented, his lips curling into a sly grin. Pulling his cloak closer to his body, he clutched his cane tightly, looking about at all of them before returning his hard gaze back to Mr. Weasley. "I'll see you at work."

Picking up on his father's hint, Draco mimicked his father, looking about them disfavoribly. "See you at school." he sneered, adding an extra glare to all of them before followin his father out of the store.

Before they knew it, the sumer break had come to an end and it was time to return to Hogwarts. Hermione and Beatrice had arrived early to platform 9 3/4 and had spent the last half an hour searching for Harry and Ron in vain. When at last the shrill sound of the warning whistle pierced the air, they give up their search. Assuming they were with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, they chose to sit with Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, and the Patil twins instead. Worry hadn't crossed their minds until they were once again absent at dinner, and when they had asked Seamus and Dean if they had seen them earlier on the train they replied that they had not. Beatrice and Hermione were at the point of panic, but all was well again the next morning in Herbology, when, at last Harry and Ron were present.

"Good morning, everyone!" said Professor Sprout, a plump, graying witch clad in brown robes, an apron, gloves, and ear muffs. She smiled stoutly at them as the second years returned her greeting.

"Welcome to Greenhouse Tree, second years," she said, gesturing for them to approach the long flowerbed before them. "Gather around, everyone. Today we're going to re-pot Mandrakes. Who here can tell me the properties of the Mandrake root?"

As if by instinct, Hermione's hand shot up into the air. "Mandrake, or Mandragora is used to return those who have been Pertrified to their original state. It's also quite dangerous. The Mandrake's cry is fatal to anyone who hears it."

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor!" Professor Sprout nodded, beaming proudly. "Now, as our Mandrakes are still only seedlings their cries won't kill you yet, but they could knock you out for several hours, which is why I have given you earmuffs for auditory protection. So could you please put them on right away? Quickly. Flaps tight down, and watch me closely."

She set a pot in front of her and placed her hand on the stem beneth the leaves of the plant. "Grasp your Mandrake firmly, and pull it sharply out of the pot." As she demonstrated her instructions, an ugly plant-baby sprang out from beneath the dirt, uttering an ear-splitting scream, its chubby brown face scrunched disapprovingly. "Got it?" she asked, placing the plant-baby into a new pot. "And now you dunk it into the other pot and pour a little sprinkling of soil to keep him warm."

Taking one look at the Mandrake, Neville stumbled for a moment and fell over. Watching him disapprovingly from the front of the classroom, Professor Sprout sighed. "Longbottom's been neglecting his earmuffs."

"No ma'am," said Beatrice, after examining her classmate. "He's just fainted."

"Yes, well, just leave him there." she said with a shrug. "Right, on we go. Plenty of pots to go around. Grasp your Mandrake and pull it up."

Everyone was relieved to be released to lunch after a rather unpleasant morning consisting screaming Mandrake saplings. Neville, who had awoken a few minutes after class had been dismissed, remembered close to nothing of what had happened to make him pass out in the first place. Beatrice had taken the liberty of explaining to him what had happened and what he had missed once they were seated in the Great Hall.

"You didn't miss a very fun lesson," she assured him, "In fact it was rather horrid."

Dean agreed heartily from Beatrice's side that was unoccupied by Neville. "Even with the earmuffs the Mandrake's screams were awful. It's a wonder how much worse it would've been without them."

Meanwhile, Ron wrapped spell-o-tape round and round his broken wand and sighed when he realized it was going to do him no good. "Say it." he grumbled. "I'm doomed."

Harry nodded in agreement, eyeing Ron's misshapen wand dismally. "You're doomed."

Without warning there was a bright flash and a squeaky, high-pitched voice issued afterward, saying. "Hiya, Harry!"

A small first year boy stood before them, an old fashioned camera in his hands. He looked about them eagerly, his blue eyes nearly as wide as his smile as he met Harry's bewildered gaze. "I'm Colin Creevey. I'm in Gryffindor too!" he said, proudly pointing the the Gryffindor code of arms embroidered on his cloak.

Harry smiled and politely replied. "Hi Colin, nice to meet you." He was about to introduce himself and his friends, but was interrupted by the screech of an owl flying over head.

"Ron, is that your owl?" asked Dean, pointing at the shabby barn owl that swooped down from the rafters. Everyone watched as the big, brown barn owl flew straight into a bowl of potato chips, spilling them all over the table.

Shaking his head disbelievingly, Ron reached for the scarlet envelope clenched in the bird's beak. "Bloody bird's a menace," he grumbled. Rolling his eyes, he switched his attention to the letter, his eyes widening when he makes the unfortunate connection. "Oh no..."

"Look everyone!" Seamus chortled. "Weasley's got himself a Howler!"

"Go on, Ron," said Neville, encouragingly. "I ignored one from my Gran once..." he shuddered. "It was horrible..."

Ron turned back to the envelope, turning it around to the back and shakily breaking the seal. Beatrice was moments away from asking what a 'Howler' was when the unmistakable voice of Mrs. Weasley came bellowing out of the parchment. "RONALD WEASLEY!" With an angry flutter, the envelope morphed into a mouth, directing all of its fury at Ron. "HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR! I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED! YOUR FATHER'S NOW FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK AND IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT! IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE, WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME!" It's anger seeming to dissipate, the mouth turned and looked down the table at Ginny, who had been watching the entire episode from affar. "Oh and Ginny dear," It cooed, "Congratulations on making Gryffindor, your father and I are so proud." Turning back to a beffudled Ron, the letter and stuck its ribbon-tongue out at him before ripping itself to shreds.

"So, what do you think of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" asked Cedric, smiling down at her as they strolled around campus on a clear autumn afternoon. Today was one of the rare times that he and Beatrice actually had the opportunity to spend some time together, while Jude was at Quidditch practice. Sometimes they would take this time to go to the lake or study in the library, but today they decided to walk through the corridors.

Beatrice shrugged. "He's okay...doesn't seem to know too much, does he? He let loose a swarm of Cornish Pixies in my class...he didn't even bother to collect them, either. He left Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I to take care of them instead! Poor Neville was left on the chandelier."

Cedric laughed, clapping his hand over his mouth quickly, regretting having done so. "I'm sorry, it's not funny that your friend was suck on the chandelier...well okay, it kinda is." he chuckled, picturing the second year danging from the ceiling. Clearing his throat, he recovered from his fit. "Anyways, so you aren't like all those other girls that are mad about Lockhart?"

"Nope." she stated, a-matter-for-factly. "Personally I-oh no, this can't be good." Looking out into the court yard a few meters ahead, she spotted the Gryffindor Qudditch team, face to face with Slytherin and anyone who was familiar with Hogwarts' status quo knew that it wasn't by choice. Her eyes unmoving from the courtyard, she quickly hurried over to the scene. "I'll catch you later, Ced!" she called. "I'm sorry, but I've got to go!"

"You see, Weasley," Draco sneered as she approached, "Unlike some, my father can afford the best."

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," Hermione countered, "They got in on pure talent."

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood." Malfoy spat, regarding her as if she were something loathsome and disgusting, earning a stunned gape from everyone present.

Ron's face hardened. Clenching his jaw, he withdrew his wand from his robes, pointing it at him threateningly. "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy." he challenged. "Eat slugs!"

His spell rebound, pushing him to the ground. Hermione, Beatrice, and the entire Gryffindor Qudditch team hurried to his side as he shakily sat up. His face was sickly green, his eyes blank and watery. "You okay, Ron?" said Hermione, as he attempted to prop himself up. "Say something."

He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but instead of words a big, slimy slug plopped out of his mouth and onto the ground. Cringing in disgust, everyone took a step back to avoid being hit with one. All, that is, except the ever-present, Colin Crevey, who snapped a picture excitedly."Wow! Can you turn him around, Harry?" he asked anxiously.

"No Colin," Harry said irritably, helping Ron to his feet. "Get out of the way."

"Let's take him to Hargrid's." suggested Beatrice, wrapping her arm around Ron's waist and supporting his other side. "He'll know what to do."

The half-giant Hogwarts Game Keeper was always one of the first they would turn to when in need. Last year, even if not intentionally, he helped them out immensely by giving them information concerning Nicholas Flammel and Fluffy, the three-headed dog that guarded the trapdoor on the third floor. Though naïve at times, Hagrid was proved to be a loyal and good friend whom they always counted on to help.

"This calls for a specialist's equipment," he said, with a partial note of sarcasm as he handed Ron a large wooden bucket to spit the slugs into. "Nothing to do but wait until it stops, I'm afraid." he added, slumping back into on of his humongous armchairs. As if on cue, Ron bleched out a giant vomit-green slug into the bucket, prompting Hagrid to cringe. "Better out than in...who was Ron trying to curse anyway?"

"Malfoy." Beatrice supplied, bitterly.

"He called Hermione..." started Harry, "Well, I don't know exactly what it means..."

Crossing her arms, Hermione sprang to her feet angrily, moving a few paces away. Looking out of the window, she answered bitterly. "He called me a Mudblood."

Hagrid gasped, clearly dumbfounded. "He did not..."

Harry knit his eyebrows together in confusion, trying his best to read their expressions. "What's a Mudblood?" he asked curiously, looking between them innocently.

"It means 'dirty blood'." said Hermione, wheeling around to face them. Her eyes were glassy with tears, her voice shaking as she continued with her explaination. "Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who's Muggleborn, someone with non-magic parents. Someone like me..."

"It's not a term one usually hears in a civilized conversation." added Beatrice.

Hagrid nodded, regretfully. "See, the thing is, Harry, there are some wizards, like the Malfoy family, who think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call Pureblood."

"That's horrible."

Ron spit up another slug. "It's disgusting." he muttered weakly, speaking in part about the racism, and partly about the slug that he watched crawling about the bottom of the bucket.

"And it's codswallop to a boot." continued Hagrid, ignoring Ron's comment. "Dirty blood. Why, there isn't a wizard alive today that isn't Half-blood or less! More to the point, they've yet to think of a spell that our Hermione can't do." He smiled at her encouragingly. "Come here." Taking her hand, he gazed upon her in a father-like fashion. "Don't you think on it, Hermione. Don't you think on it for one minute."