Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. There I said it. Are you happy? You're not? Good, neither am I.

A/N:

Chapter Four: Mudbloods and Slug Vomiting

The week passed by, and no attacks as of yet. Draco expected that, as he knew for a fact that nobody got attacked until Halloween. However, he also expected to get some plan to snatch the Diary from the She-Weasel. Unfortunately, all the cunning in the world could not make it happen. Additionally, Creevy seemed to have Harry's schedule memorized, and nothing seemed to give Creevy a bigger thrill than to hear Harry say, "Hello Colin," no matter how exasperated Harry was when he said it. Creevy was obviously a bit of a fan-boy. Not exactly the kind of person Draco wanted following Harry, but he supposed it was better than Death Eaters.

Then, came the night when Harry was shaken out of bed by Oliver Wood, the captain of the Quidditch team. Draco wouldn't be going with them as he was the reserve Seeker. Oliver woke Harry up at the crack of dawn and dragged them out to train for Quidditch. Then, Draco knocked on the girl's dormitory. Hermione walked out.

"What is it?"

"We've got to go, now."

"Why?"

"Harry's about to have a problem."

"What problem is that?"

"If we don't show up, possibly a fight."

"What makes you say that?"

"The Gryffindor Quidditch team is going to their practice now."

"So?"

"The King of Slytherin personally informed me that Slytherin got special permission from Professor Snape to train their team now."

"On what grounds?"

"To train their new Seeker."

"New Seeker?"

"Theodore Nott."

"We've got to go now."

When Draco and Hermione made it to the Quidditch Pitch, the team was still in the locker rooms, and Draco and Hermione sat in the stands. Then, the Gryffindor team started to fly. Luckily Creevy wasn't there. Sadly, the Slytherins were there, just like his extremely reliable source informed him they would be.

"We have a problem Oliver," said Fred.

"What is that?" Wood asked.

"The Slytherins are here." Fred said.

"What?!" Oliver exclaimed furiously. Oliver then turned to the direction Fred was pointing at.

"I don't believe this. I booked the field for today. We'll see about this." Oliver hissed in absolute outrage. It was about to get even worse. Especially when the new Seeker said his bit.

Oliver shot to the ground, landing hard, and he staggered slightly as he dismounted. Harry, Fred, and George followed, with Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell shortly behind them. The Gryffindor Quidditch Team, a united front.

"Flint!" Wood bellowed at a disgrace to Slytherin Quidditch. "This is our practice time! We got up specially. You can clear out now."

"Plenty of room for all of us Wood."

"But I booked the field. I booked it!"

"Ah, but I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker."

"You've got a new Seeker? Where?" asked Wood.

From behind the large figures of the Slytherin team, came Theodore Nott. The fun has just arrived, and Draco realized that he made a mistake. He hoped that Hermione would be spared from ever being called a Mudblood, but he forgot that the first time he'd called Granger a Mudblood was during his first Quidditch practice with his new team.

"Aren't you Jonathon Nott's son?" asked George Weasley.

"Funny you should mention his father, look what he gave us," said Flint, as the entire team held out their brooms. They were all Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones. The best racing brooms in the world, or at least they would be until next year. "Very latest model. Only came out last month. I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps, sweeps the board with them. Oh, look field invasion."

Draco and Hermione caught up to Quidditch team.

"Nice brooms. Your father bought them for the entire Slytherin team?"

"Of course. But then, my father believes in respectability, honor, and victory."

"Really, is that what we're calling what our fathers did in the war?"

"Lovely brooms aren't they? Perhaps the Gryffindor team could raise some gold and get new brooms to. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives, I expect a museum would bid for them."

The Slytherin team howled in laughter.

"At least nobody in Gryffindor had to buy their way in," Hermione said. "They got in on pure talent."

"No one asked for your opinion, you filthy Mudblood," Nott spat.

As Draco expected, Flint went in front of Nott to stop the Weasley twins from jumping him. Alicia screamed, "How dare you!" And Draco walked directly in front of Flint/Nott.

"She's purer than the two of us combined Nott," Draco said.

"So, you've decided to come out of the closet as a Blood Traitor then."

"And proud of it, you inbred piece of horseshit."

With that, Draco started to walk away, when Nott raised his wand to Draco. Next thing he knew, he felt a quick brush of pain, and he was vomiting slugs. Quickly, Harry and Hermione took him to Hagrid. However, before they could get there, they noticed Lockhart and Hagrid talking animatedly about Fluffy the Cerberus. Eventually, Lockhart walked away. Then, Harry and Hermione walked to Hagrid. Hagrid didn't seem very perturbed by the slug problem, but Draco was absolutely miserable.

"Better out than in, Draco. Get 'em all up." Hagrid said cheerfully, plucking a large copper basin in front of them.

"I can't think of anything to do, but wait for it to stop."

"I can," said Draco.

Then, Draco pointed his wand at himself, and nonverbally, stopped the spell.

"That's better," Draco said.

"Now that you aren't vomiting slugs, tell me what the bloody hell that was about!" Harry said.

"I really hoped you'd never see that side of Wizarding Society, or more specifically, Pureblood Society."

"But what is a Mudblood? I've never ran across it in any books."

"Where did yeh hear that word?" Hagrid asked.

"Nott decided to call Hermione a Mudblood. As for why it's not in any of your books, well, it wouldn't be in any books, unless you found a book about Pureblood insults. The word Mudblood is reserved only for Muggleborns. Means dirty blood. Filthy blood. Common blood. You see, there are some wizarding families, like Nott's family, like mine, who think they are better than everyone else, because they can trace their lineage for a really long time and only encounter wizards. Some occupy the Wizengambot, some hold higher up jobs in the Ministry, some are like my father and Nott's father. Now their children spend their entire lives being taught that they are better than everybody else. I spent my entire life being taught that I am better than you. Took me a while to realize that my father was just a prejudiced inbred piece of hippogriff shit. Unfortunately, Nott will never realize that his father is just as full of shit as my father. Don't pay attention to it, as it wouldn't be worth it."

The left Hagrid's hut after Draco stopped vomiting slugs. Later on Draco learned that vomiting slugs was a common illness that day, as the Weasel also vomited slugs. Apparently, Nott called the Weasel a blood traitor, and the Weasel tried hexing Nott, only for his busted wand to make his spell backfire.

Later on that night, they went to bed. Little did Draco or Harry suspect that the other hadn't slept a wink. Surely that was just coincidence, right?