Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Harry Potter & its characters are J.K. Rowling's. "Beautiful" is Bethany Dillon's.
I love to hear You say
Who I am is quite enough
One would think that by now, I would be used to being called a Mudblood, especially by Malfoy. He's been doing it the past two years, but it still hurts every time that word comes out of his mouth. It makes me feel filthy, even though I know it shouldn't. I'm allowing the word to do the very thing it was meant to do – cut deep.
After finding out what the word meant, I tried to ignore it, but realized that I really couldn't. Draco Malfoy really isn't the type of person who would stop taunting someone for any reason. I've tried so many things: ignoring him, asking him to stop, venomously yelling at him to shut up, threatened to curse him, and a few other things that really haven't worked.
He hasn't let up. I think it's sad and pathetic that he continues to call me it when he can be wasting his time doing other things, but he just has this sick desire to cause harm to others. It helps him that even though I'm sometimes strong, I sometimes let words cut me deep. I hate that; it makes me feel weak.
I've only talked back to Malfoy half of the time. Those are generally the times when I'm alone and have to fend for myself. For the other half, the words sting just as much, but the pain disappears more quickly. During those times, I have my friends.
It's mainly Ron who sticks up for me, and I don't blame Harry in the slightest. Ron comes from a family consisting of people whom a few wizarding families consider "blood traitors," and Harry didn't grow up with a hatred for the word "Mudblood" like Ron did. Therefore, Ron was the first one to stand up for me when Malfoy called me that horrible word.
He ended up paying for it, which I guess was fortunate. It saved him from getting into trouble for hexing Malfoy, but that boy would have deserved it. And now every time he's around to hear Malfoy say it, Harry and I have to stop him from attacking both physically and magically. Yet my heart soars every time Ron tries to do something that would get him into trouble.
My friend is sticking his neck out for me; how could I not feel at least a little happy about that?
The most recent one was a few days ago, three or four days after the Yule Ball. I was walking back to the Gryffindor Tower from the Great Hall when I was cornered by Malfoy and his cronies. They had started picking on me, asking what I had to do to go to the Ball with Viktor, saying that the potions I used for my hair didn't work on anyone else so I obviously had to have put him under some sort of spell.
"After all, everyone knows that a talented Quidditch player like him wouldn't really want to be caught DEAD with a filthy Mudblood like you."
The next thing I knew there was a flash of red flying past me, and Ron's fist collided with Malfoy's chin.
"Don't you EVER call her that again!" While Malfoy was staring surprised at Ron and his friends were trying to help him with his sore jaw, Ron pulled me away and back to the Gryffindor Tower. Apparently, he had seen Malfoy leave the Great Hall after I did, and went to make sure I was all right.
His entire family is full of wizards, yet he doesn't care if I have a Muggle background or not. Blood doesn't matter to him (or his family); all he cares about is that I'm his friend. The fight we had the night of the Yule Ball was put behind us, and our friendship feels as strong as ever.
Because blood doesn't matter among friends.