Chapter 4: Mudblood
Words: 2,520
Total Words: 10,075

Hermione was excited for the weekend - she, Harry, and Ron had agreed to go visit Hagrid and take a break from lessons and homework to spend some time with him. While she was quite enjoying classes, Ron was not doing so well - his broken wand kept malfunctioning, even hitting poor Professor Flitwick during one Charms lesson and giving him a big, green boil right between his eyes.

On the day that they were supposed to go to Hagrid's hut, however, Harry was told he needed to be at Quidditch practice instead. Apparently Oliver Wood had booked the pitch and wanted to make up for losing the cup the previous year by practicing harder and longer. So this meant that Ron and Hermione breakfasted alone before making their way to the stands.

"They're not out, do you think it's over?" Ron asked Hermione.

"I'm not sure," she answered. "I've never watched any of Harry's practices."

The sun was completely up in the sky as Harry and his team made their way onto the field.

"Aren't you finished yet?" Ron asked. Both he and Hermione were quite surprised to see them all still in their Quidditch robes.

"Haven't even started," Harry answered. He sounded rather gloomy. "Wood's been teaching us new moves."

Hermione and Ron watched as he mounted his broom and joined the rest of the Gryffindor team in the air. Hermione spotted Colin Creevey, madly clicking away on his camera, and was not surprised when Harry sped away from him. After a little while, however, something went wrong. There were green-and-silver clad figures coming onto the field now. Hermione and Ron looked at each other.

This can't be good... Hermione thought to herself as she and Ron made their way to the two teams, now on the ground. It looked like the Slytherins were showing off their broomsticks, but Hermione didn't know why. Harry had the Nimbus Two Thousand, which, to her knowledge, was the best broom out there. As they got closer to the people gathered in the middle of the field, they saw Malfoy standing there. But he's not on a Quidditch team!

"What's happening? Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?" Ron glared at Malfoy.

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," Malfoy sneered. "Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought the team."

Hermione wished Ron had more tact; he was now staring, openmouthed, clearly in awe of the brooms the Slytherins were holding. Each one had Nimbus Two Thousand and One in gold lettering on the handle.

"Good, aren't they? But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them."

While the Slytherins roared with laughter, Hermione became more frustrated with Malfoy's better-than-thou attitude.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent," she snapped, pleased at how Malfoy's smirk fell.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he retorted. Although Hermione didn't know what that meant, it was clearly a nasty name. All the Gryffindor team went into an uproar, and Ron reached into his robes for his broken wand.

"You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" Ron said; a bang came from the wrong end of his wand and seconds later, he was on his back in the grass. Hermione and Harry ran to his side.

"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" Hermione asked him, but one look at his face told her he was not. Instead of words coming out when Ron opened his mouth, he belched and a couple of slugs fell out onto his lap. Hermione felt a pang of embarrassment for Ron as the Slytherins doubled over in laughter and was thankful when the Gryffidor team gathered around him, cutting off their view of the ginger boy now burping up slugs with increasing frequency.

"We'd better get him to Hagrid's," Harry said. Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded as they grabbed Ron by the arms and pulled him up.

Well, we were going to visit anyway... maybe Hagrid can help him, Hermione thought to herself as Harry told Colin Creevey to stop trying to get a picture of Ron. Harry and Hermione helped Ron across the grounds and towards the gamekeeper's cabin.

"Nearly there, Ron. You'll be all right in a minute - almost there - " Hermione was breathing rather hard with the effort it took to support him. Before they reached the hut, however, the door opened and Gilderoy Lockhart exited.

"Quick, behind here," Harry said as he dragged Ron behind a bush. Hermione hesitated for a second before following; she liked Lockhart and wondered what he was doing at Hagrid's.

"It's a simple matter if you know what you're doing! If you need help, you know where I am! I'll let you have a copy of my book. I'm surprised you haven't already got one - I'll sign one tonight and sent it over. Well, good-bye!" Lockhart called before heading back towards the castle.

Ah, so he was just offering Hagrid some help. I wonder what with? And which book he'll send?

Once the Professor was out of sight, Harry went to knock on Hagrid's door, still supporting Ron with Hermione. When Hagrid finally appeared, he looked rather disgruntled, but his face brightened when he saw that it was the three friends.

"Bin wonderin' when you'd come ter see me - come in, come in - thought you mighta been Professor Lockhart back again - "

Hermione and Harry helped Ron inside, Harry explaining to Hagrid what had happened on the Quidditch pitch. Hagrid didn't seem bothered and offered Ron a basin to catch the slugs in.

"Better out than in. Get 'em all up, Ron."

"I don't think there's anything to do except wait for it to stop," Hermione said. She had been wracking her brains the whole way to Hagrid's but hadn't thought of a countercurse or anti-jinx to help poor Ron out. "That's a difficult curse to work at the best of times, but with a broken wand - " she trailed off.

"What did Lockhart want with you?" Harry asked Hagrid.

"Givin' me advice on gettin' kelpies out of a well. Like I don' know. An' bangin' on about some banshee he banished. If one word of it was true, I'll eat my kettle."

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. Lockhart was an amazingly accomplished wizard and it was also very unlike Hagrid to say anything bad about a professor.

"I think you're being a bit unfair. Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the best man for the job - " she began.

"He was the on'y man for the job," Hagrid interrupted. He offered them some fudge; Ron refused, but Harry and Hermione each took some. "An' I mean the on'y one. Gettin' very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen to take it on, see. They're startin' to think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now. So tell me... who was he tryin' ter curse?" Hagrid nodded at Ron, who let out another belch and some more slugs.

"Malfoy called Hermione something - it must've been really bad, because everyone went wild," Harry answered immediately.

"It was bad," Ron said, pale and sweaty and his voice rather quiet. "Malfoy called her 'Mudblood,' Hagrid - " he couldn't finish, as several more slugs came out of his mouth.

"He didn'!" Hagrid said, outraged.

"He did," Hermione said slowly. "But I don't know what it means. I could tell it was really rude, of course - "

"It's about the most insulting thing he could think of," Ron said in kind of a rush - it sounded like he was trying to say everything before the next wave of slugs came. "Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born - you know, non-magic parents. There are some wizards - like Malfoy's family - who think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call pure-blood. I mean, the rest of us know it doesn't make any difference at all. Look at Neville Longbottom - he's pure-blood and he can hardly stand a cauldron the right way up."

Although the thought did comfort Hermione a little bit, she still felt hurt by Malfoy's words.

"An' they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can' do," Hagrid said. Hermione felt herself go red with pleasure and shyness at his praise. Before she could say anything, however, Ron spoke up again.

"It's a disgusting thing to call someone," he said, burping up a slug and tossing it in the bin. "Dirty blood, see. Common blood. It's ridiculous. Most wizards these days are half-blood anyway. If we hadn't married Muggles we'd've died out."

"Well, I don' blame yeh for tryin' ter curse him, Ron," Hagrid said, "bu' maybe it was a good thing yer wand backfired. 'Spect Lucius Malfoy would've come marchin' up ter school if yeh'd cursed his son. Least yer not in trouble."

Hermione silently agreed with Hagrid, though she didn't like seeing Ron so uncomfortable. Burping up slugs had to be a terrible experience.

"Harry," Hagrid said suddenly, making Hermione jump slightly, "gotta bone ter pick with yeh. I've heard you've bin givin' out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?"

"I have not been giving out signed photos. If Lockhart's still spreading that around - "

But he didn't finish; Hagrid was laughing.

"I'm on'y jokin'. I knew yeh hadn't really. I told Lockhart yeh didn' need teh. Yer more famous than him without tryin'."

"Bet he didn't like that," Harry said. Hermione heard the grin in his voice and frowned slightly. Professor Lockhart was an amazing man and had done a lot for the wizarding world. He had earned his fame.

"Don' think he did. An' then I told him I'd never read one o' his books an' he decided ter go. Treacle fudge, Ron?"

"No, thanks. Better not risk it." Hermione didn't blame Ron; the fudge had made her teeth stick together and he still looked rather weak and pale.

"Come an' see what I've bin growin'," Hagrid said after a pause. He lead them into his vegetable patch, which held the biggest pumpkin that Hermione had ever seen. She couldn't believe Hagrid was starting to get ready for Halloween so early - it wasn't until next month!

"Gettin' on well, aren't they? Fer the Halloween feast... should be big enough by then."

"What've you been feeding them?" Harry asked. Hagrid looked around before answering.

"Well, I've bin givin' them - you know - a bit o' help - "

"An Engorgement Charm, I suppose?" Hermione said, half grinning. Hagrid had done well, especially since he didn't have a full, working wand. He had been expelled in his third year but hadn't told any of them why... Hermione thought it was probably a sensitive spot, so she had never pried. "Well, you've done a good job on them."

"That's what yer little sister said," Hagrid said, looking at Ron.

Ginny? Good, I'm glad she met Hagrid. She could use someone friendly to have around for her first year... Hermione thought. She had noticed that Ginny had been rather quiet and pale lately, but nothing too out-of-the-ordinary.

"Met her jus' yesterday. Said she was jus' lookin' round the grounds, but I reckon she was hopin' she might run inter someone else at my house." Hagrid now looked at Harry. "If yeh ask me, she wouldn' say no ter a signed - "

"Oh, shut up," Harry said. Ron laughed and sprayed more slugs everywhere.

"Watch it!" Hagrid yelled as he pulled Ron away from his pumpkins. A little while later, the three of them decided to head back to the castle - Harry hadn't eaten yet and it was nearly lunchtime anyway. But as soon as they set foot in the entrance hall, they were greeted by Professor McGonagall.

"There you are, Potter - Weasley," she said. "You will both do your detentions this evening."

Hermione had all but forgotten about the flying car incident. She still couldn't believe the two of them had had so much courage to fly a magical car to school. She thought it was a miracle that they hadn't gotten themselves expelled.

"What're we doing, Professor?" Ron asked.

"You will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr. Filch. And no magic, Weasley - elbow grease. And you, Potter, will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail."

"Oh n - Professor, can't I go and do the trophy room, too?" Harry asked. Hermione couldn't help but wonder why Harry would want to do that - Professor Lockhart was an amazing wizard! All the things he could share with Harry!

"Certainly not," Professor McGonagall answered sternly. "Professor Lockhart requested you particularly. Eight o'clock sharp, both of you."

Hermione followed the two boys to the Great Hall, silently thinking they got exactly what they deserved, especially for pulling such a dangerous and stupid stunt. They sat down and piled their plates with food, Harry and Ron each complaining about how they got the worse deal.

"Filch'll have me there all night," Ron lamented. "No magic! There must be about a hundred cups in that room. I'm no good at Muggle cleaning."

"I'd swap anytime. I've had loads of practice with the Dursleys. Answering Lockhart's fan mail... he'll be a nightmare..."

Hermione didn't see what was so bad about Lockhart - she rather agreed that Ron would have the worse time. At least Harry could learn things from Lockhart and he wouldn't have to be with Filch all night. She didn't say anything, however; she still felt that they had gotten what they deserved for breaking the rules so badly and hurting the Whomping Willow. Hermione finished her lunch in silence and went back to the common room, running into Ginny on the way.

"Oh, hello, Ginny," she said. "Are you heading to the common room too?"

"Yeah," Ginny answered. She seemed a little pale and quiet, but not enough so that Hermione suspected anything. "I've got an essay for McGonagall to finish."

"Well, I've finished all my homework and Harry and Ron are in detention, do you want any company?"

"Sure. It's on turning matches into needles, and I just can't seem to get the right wand movement..."

Ginny and Hermione had reached the Fat Lady. Hermione gave the password and they climbed in, quickly claiming the squashy armchairs by the fire before anyone else did. The two girls spent the rest of the evening working on Ginny's essay and talking about Hogwarts before finally deciding to go to bed. Hermione wanted to wait up for Harry and Ron, but it was getting late and she wanted to be alert for her classes the next day. Besides, they would probably tell her about how awful their detentions were the next morning...