Rating: G
Summary: Draco muses about muggleborns. One-shot.
Disclaimer: What do you think? *pointed look*
A/N: My first fic! I'm so nervous. I want feedback, lots of feedback. Oh, and chocolate, lots of chocolate ;)
Muggleborn Musings
By Plucky
Father always said that muggleborns were scum, unworthy to practice magic. He'd talk of foul, loathsome creatures that plagued the wizarding world and diminished the "brilliance of our once honourable society."
Now, I'm not sure what to believe. I can understand why Father wants muggles to have no part in the magical world, but muggleborns are wizards and their lineage does not affect their magical ability whatsoever, as demonstrated by the "Great" Hermione Granger.
The first time I ever saw a muggleborn was in Diagon Alley, when I was ten. Father needed some books, and when I complained and asked why the house elves couldn't take care of it, he told me that one must keep up appearances, especially if they belong to such a prominent wizarding family.
* * *
"We are the very best of the wizarding world, Draco," Father explained to me. "We set the trends, cause the scandals. We are doves amongst a flock of pigeons. We can't just shut ourselves up in the manor. We must stay in the public eye in order to maintain our station."
Father looked at me as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
'Of course,' I thought sarcastically, trying not to roll my eyes. 'Why didn't I think of that?'
I watched the hustle and bustle of the alley. Father casually walked along the street, parting the crowds as he passed. 'Like Moses parted the Red Sea,' I commented dryly.
I looked around and realized all eyes were on us.
'Obviously my father requires a lot of attention, but do they have to stare?' I thought darkly as I surveyed the people around, whispering as we walked by.
My gaze wandered back to my father. Father always had told me to act as he acts.
"You are better than your peers," he'd say. "People must show the Malfoy name the honour and reverence it deserves."
I may not enjoy his lectures, but even I could admit the way my father held himself demanded respect. I tried to imitate his stance. Shoulders back, hands at my sides, nose in the air. I had only walked a couple of steps before my neck began to ache. I noticed some people giving me sideways glances, so I opted to walk normally.
We approached Flourish and Blotts and entered. Father made a large spectacle of taking off his gloves, giving the clerk time to notice his presence and scurry over. I took this as my cue to leave.
I wandered through the aisles, looking for some light reading. Unfortunately, as my attention was focused on the shelves, I didn't notice the confused looking boy walking nervously in my direction.
"Excuse me?" A voice asked from behind the book I had been glancing at. I lowered it, annoyed the boy hadn't noticed that I was clearly busy. I took in the boy's appearance; he seemed flustered, as if he were anxious about something.
"Can I help you?" I sneered.
"Yes," replied the boy. "I was wondering if you could direct me to the exit, I seem to have forgotten the way."
'What kind of dunderhead gets lost in Flourish and Blotts?' I wondered with a small smile.
The boy must have noticed the amused look on my face, because he smiled sheepishly and explained, "I've never been here before, this is my first visit to Diagon Alley since I found out I was a wizard."
'He's muggleborn?' I thought dazedly. 'But he doesn't seem different than any other wizards.'
I felt cheated. Father had always emphasized the evils and vices of mudbloods, and now I see that they're not any different than me?
'Surely there must be some sign of his heritage,' I reasoned. 'And besides, I should be able to tell the difference between respectable wizards and riff-raff.'
At the sight of my bewildered expression the mudblood walked off, mumbling something about wizards being excessively self-absorbed, but I was too preoccupied with my own thoughts to notice.