Drucy spent the entire Defense against Dark Arts class locked in uncertainty, miserable, and completely unable to concentrate. As the bell rang and the other students started filing out, she took a deep breath and stayed in her seat. Roenna paused on the way out and laid her hand on Drucy's in a silent question: do you want me to stay? Drucy shook her head. Roenna nodded, patted her friend on the shoulder, and left with the others. Drucy wanted to approach the head of the room, where Harry Potter was collecting his papers, but she didn't know if she could stand. She wanted to call attention to herself, but she wasn't sure she could speak. Finally, he looked up, and seemed a little surprised that someone was still in the room. He sounded pleasant, though, and not put out or distracted, as he spoke. "Oh. Hi. Is there something you wanted to ask me?"

She managed to make herself speak. "Yes. There's… I'm sorry, I don't want to be… trouble… but I wanted… I wanted to ask you about something."

He frowned slightly. He set his papers aside and walked over to her. After looking at her face for a moment, he squeezed himself into the seat next to hers, sitting sideways, as if he were another student. Surprised, Drucy shifted herself sideways to face him. "Drucilla Bulstrode, right?" Harry remembered. "What do you need to know, Ms. Bulstrode?"

Despite his formal address, his smile seemed friendly, and Drucy drew on her courage the best she could. "Sir… Mr. Potter… the other kids have been acting like they're all afraid of me. Someone started a rumor, and said that I'm… I'm Voldemort's granddaughter. They think my father, that Grandma Bellatrix and… that…"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Really?" He sounded more fascinated than anything else. "Someone came up with it, and now the other kids are freaking out about it? Huh. It's not like that's a terribly new thing. So why are you going to me, and not your Head of House? That's still 'Old Slughorn', right?"

"I don't need to know if they can be made to stop," Drucy explained shakily. "I need to know if it's true. My sister says it isn't. Professor Krum seems pretty sure, too. But I-I'm a Parselmouth, and I don't know why, and my friend Roenna thought it didn't seem too farfetched. I don't know if you know, sir, but I thought that if anybody might know, maybe you might…"

He took a long breath and shifted in his seat, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. Drucy fell silent, afraid of what he was about to say, wondering if he was trying to think of a way to break it to her. Then he shifted his gaze back to her, and he looked very serious. "Drucilla, Vic-… Professor Krum is correct. I'm certain of it. I only remember flashes now, but I never got any impression that Voldemort was carrying on with Bellatrix Lestrange. And I do know that, crazy as she and her husband was, they were crazy together. I'm sure Bellatrix loved Riddle, in her own way, but he… by the time your father would have been born, I don't even know if he was human enough to father a child, never mind love someone in that way. I don't know if there's a person left alive who can tell you the full truth, for sure. Muggle scientists could find out, so there's probably a way for wizards to do it, too, if you really need to know. But you asked me, and that's my answer. Nope. Your paternal grandparents are Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange."

"But I'm a Parselmouth," Drucy pointed out. She was surprised at herself for how boldly she said it. It did seem like the strongest piece of evidence against her. "Why am I a Parselmouth?"

Harry took another moment to sit and regard her before speaking. "You know what, I think it's most likely completely natural. Your mom is the Bulstrode, right? Bulstrode is one of the 'Sacred Twenty-Eight', considered among the most pure-blooded in the wizarding lines. Most of the Parselmouths turned up out of Slytherin's line, but everyone in the pure-blood lines have mixed with each other so many times that everyone's basically got everyone else's stuff. I mean, I could be wrong. Maybe it came out of the Lestrange side. But I'd put my money on the Bulstrodes, all things considered." He smiled encouragingly. "Look, Drucilla, I might not be a Parselmouth anymore, but I've still got that scar of mine. I've been teaching you for two days now, and sitting right next to you for a while, listening to you say words like 'Voldemort' and 'Parselmouth'. And you know what? I haven't had a single twinge. If you really were Riddle's granddaughter, don't you think I'd have felt something by now?"

She had to admit that this was at least as compelling an argument as Roenna's analysis. "Oh. Okay." She felt her heart lighten, and couldn't hold back a small laugh of pure relief, even as she felt embarrassed over reacting like that in front of The Potter.

But he didn't seem to think it was particularly embarrassing. "I actually understand," he told her, wistful humor in his tone. "In my second year, it got 'round school that I was supposedly the Heir of Slytherin, because I was a Parselmouth. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws mostly avoided me, and the Slytherins teased me over it. I felt more than a bit lonely…" He paused and grew thoughtful.

"Yeah, Slytherins and Gryffindors, I know," Drucy told him, her relief making her incautious. "This kid from Gryffindor, he bullies me all the time. He trips me up, makes fun of me, he even tried to grab my wand once. He hates me, and I never did anything to him." She paused, feeling that she had to be truthful. "Except… when… Snape's portrait taught me a little trick, and I-" She suddenly stopped, horrified at how open she was being.

Harry chuckled outright in response. "You hoisted him up by the ankle." He chuckled again at her astonishment. "Yeah, I know. I learned that one in my sixth year, and you know what? It was from the same person. You know what, all things considered, that's pretty tame for a Slytherin response to bullying."

"I'm sorry, I…" Drucy didn't want to look him in the face anymore. "You were teased by Slytherins. I guess I have to understand if you don't like us very much."

But Harry paused and caught her gaze again. "No, Drucilla Bulstrode. I've had a lot to learn over the years, and this is part of it. I can't hate Slytherins for what a couple of dumb kids did to me in school, or even for the evil wizards who have come out of the House. Some of the bravest people I've known were Slytherins."

"It isn't easy to be a Slytherin at Hogwarts right now," Drucy admitted. He didn't respond to that, though, and the two of them fell silent for a long moment.

Harry broke the silence. "You've given me a bit to think about," he told her. "Thanks for that. Did I answer your question? You're feeling better now?"

"Yeah," Drucy admitted. "Thanks for stopping, and listening, and helping me out."

Harry worked his way out from behind the student desk, which had been built for someone about half his size. "Hey, I'm a professor now, for another couple of days, anyway. It's part of my job. Now you'd better run to supper. You're going to have to carry your books the whole way down. I don't think you've even got time to drop them off. Good luck, kid."

Drucy didn't even have to carry her books all the way down. She called Topsy, and had the elderly house elf take two trips to bring her things back to her room. All those books were, after all, heavy. "Books are not heavy one by one," Topsy offered, as she took the second load. "Maybe my mistress would like to have them taken away at the end of class, and the next one brought back." Drucy had not even thought of this, but she had to admit it was a good idea. With her load considerably lightened, she resumed her trek to the Great Hall.

As she walked, though, she began to think back to the rest of her conversation with The Potter. Someone had spread a rumor like this about him. He'd been lonely, abandoned by other students who seemed afraid of him. The Slytherins had bullied him. Someone had spread a rumor. Slytherins had bullied him. Gryffindors had bullied her. Someone spread a rumor. Drucy's back straightened as she suddenly realized that she knew where this rumor had come from. She knew who was spreading it. She knew who deserved her ire. As she neared the Great Hall, her stride lengthened, and she slipped her wand out of the wand pocket in her school robes. As her hand closed around it, green and gold sparks shot out of its business end.