CHAPTER 26: PRIDE AND PREJUDICE


Passing through the barrier felt like momentarily passing through a thick, cold fog. Then as soon as it had begun, it was over, and he was standing in the bright sunlight, a gleaming metal monstrosity in front of him.

Now, the trains of the modern British railway system are sleek affairs, powerful, yes, but rather visually falling short. The thing that stood in front of Sparhawk now was a relic from ages past, something straight out of the industrial revolution, bulging with muscles and glowing with burnished steel. To a rather physical man such as Sparhawk himself, this was far more impressive than modern trains.

As he tore his eyes away from the train, he saw Hermione standing, looking lost amidst a sea of robes, just like several tiny islands of muggle clothing. Sighing at the state of things, Sparhawk quickly herded Hermione towards the nearest train car.

"wait," she said as he prepared to board. Sparhawk turned askance. "How do we know this is ours?" Sparhawk lifted an eyebrow. "I mean, I see no list out here." she continued, walking over to take a look at the adjacent cars, "And none here too"

Sparhawk shrugged.

"First come, first served." Then he proceeded to tug Hermione's luggage on board. His own Infinity Trunk 9000 was brought up without much trouble. He secured an empty compartment for the both of them and they'd just begun to settle in when they heard the choo-choo of the train preparing to leave. From outside, the murmurs of farewells rose to a great crescendo and gently died down as the great machine lurched into motion, chugging along on the way to Hogwarts.

Sparhawk glanced out at the fleeting scenery as he pondered his new lot in life. He was to be a student again, a student of magic. Now, while in a sense, he had never stopped being one in that Sephrenia had always been teaching them something new, this was, he supposed, going to be a trying experience for him. For the last few decades, Sparhawk had been Pandion knight, Ehlana's instructor, champion of his order. All positions of authority to one degree or another. And now, this...

The girl opposite him fidgeted nervously, itching for some conversation. Sparhawk watched as Hermione's eyes darted this way and that, occasionally coming to rest on her trunk. Twice she'd made to take a book half out of it and twice she'd put it back again, instead opting to keep avenues open for socializing. The problem lay in that Sparhawk was not a very social person. The only experience he had with these types of situations was when he'd been mentoring Ehlana. So he drew on his experiences from then and decided to opt for a lecture, of sorts.

"What did you think about what happened on the platform?" He asked, somehow managing to keep his tone mild and conversational.

Hermione grabbed whatever conversation starters were thrown her way like a lifeline. "Uh...umm..." That isn't to say she was going to have strong opinions just then, those things took a minute or two to pop up, especially with strangers. "It wasn't very nice of them" she finally huffed out.

"Them?"

"You know, wizards. Keeping non-magical out people like that."

"Yes. It wasn't. And something leads me to believe it will be a recurring experience"

Hermione looked confused and apprehensive at the same time. After all, racial hatred isn't something grasped well by the young and idealistic. But for Sparhawk with all his experience with the Elenes and the Styrics, well, let's just say he'd become a natural at spotting things out.

"People always fear the other Hermione. Now you can choose to stand out, but that brings with it its own host of problems. And so, we need to blend in. And for that, you need knowledge. Knowledge that only a living breathing wizard can give you" he added as Hermione made an abortive grab for her trunk. She sat thinking for a moment.

"So, what you mean to say is, we should befriend a wizard? Someone who comes from a wizarding family."

"Exactly my point."

"Well, where do we find one?"

The door to their compartment slid open. "Has anyone seen my toad?


Sparhawk led the way as Hermione and the newcomer, who'd identified himself as Neville Longbottom, funny name that, trailed after him. They moved from compartment to compartment, throwing open doors and demanding toads. So far, they'd had little success. But it had been rather fun. One of the compartments they'd visited had a bunch of screaming occupants and one flustered tarantula. Sparhawk had liberated the arachnid from its distressing surroundings and now had it safely in a box tucked under his arm. His two companions hadn't been very enthusiastic about it. So now, they were going from compartment to compartment asking about lost toads and found spiders.

As he once more opened another of the seemingly endless compartments, after knocking, he was after all a gentleman, he was greeted by a rather pale and thin lad with slicked-back hair nearly as pale as he was and two very similar boys of a rather large structure. The pale one sneered at him, clearly upset about being interrupted in whatever they might have been doing.

"Has anyone seen a toad? About yea big and rather green?"

The boy sneered once more. "Toad? Who keeps toads as pets anymore?" His two cronies, for that's what it looked like they were, laughed.

Neville piped up from behind Sparhawk. "It's mine, Malfoy"

"Oh, who do we have here? Neville Longbottom? Why am I not surprised? What, couldn't handle anything more than a toad? And you've gone and lost that too it seems." More laughter.

Now Sparhawk generally tended to keep out of these schoolyard fights, but seeing as he was a school kid himself these days, he reckoned it would be okay. But before he could speak up, Hermione Granger decided to butt in.

"Now that wasn't very nice of you!" she declared, pushing past Sparhawk.

"And who are you?" Malfoy asked warily.

"I'm Hermione Granger."

"Granger? As in Dagworth Granger?" A bit of the haughtiness was creeping back in.

Hermione looked confused. "No, as far I know."

Malfoy's eyes were glittering strangely. "So, your parents are wizards?" he asked in an off-hand manner.

Hermione, innocent little Hermione, brightened up. "Oh, no. I'm the first wizard in my family! I was ever so pleased when I received my Hogwarts..." she trailed off as Malfoy and his sycophants started laughing boisterously.

"You're a mudblood!" he sneered, "A filthy mudblood!"

Now, while Sparhawk might not have known the exact racist slur for muggleborns, he'd seen enough of racism to know one. And the Pandions took a dim view to that sort of thing. But before he could do anything about it, Neville, the shy little boy who'd stood behind them every time they'd knocked on a door, pushed forward, trembling like a leaf, but still, he raised his voice.

"That wasn't very nice, Draco. You take that back!"

"Oh, the blood traitor is here to stand up for the mudblood, eh?" he asked, his two goons moving forward to lurk menacingly over Neville. The smaller boy looked like he wanted to say something, but his short-lived spurt of bravery was nearly gone and he just stammered. Still, he wasn't backing down.

Sparhawk sighed. What was with all this venom?

"You there," he called out to no one of them in particular. All three turned his way.

"Catch" And he opened the box with the tarantula and flung it at them.

Now, no one is really prepared to have a large arachnid thrown at them. Doesn't matter if you have a phobia of spiders or not. Malfoy and his goons backpedaled, faces masks of horror, while Sparhawk caught both his companions by their collars and pulled them out the doorway. Sliding it shut with some speed, he proceeded to pull out his belt and tie it closed. The entire affair was over in a matter of seconds. Panicked banging sounded on the other side.

Turning to look at a dumbstruck Hermione and a quivering Neville, he sighed. "I hope that spider makes it out okay"

Thankfully for Sparhawk, his trousers were a snug fit as the three made their way back to their compartment. Neville's toad had been given up as a lost cause for now. Hermione patted a disconsolate Neville. "Oh well, maybe the cleaners will find it."

The boy looked rather doubtful.

"And also, thanks for standing up for me back there...but what's a mudblood?"

"You don't know?!" asked an incredulous Neville.

"Well, my family's all muggle. I can't be expected to know wizarding insults." she huffed.

"Well, that's what it means. That you come from a muggle family. Some of the really nasty purebloods like throwing that around."

"And purebloods mean they come from wizarding families?"

"Yeah."

Hermione surreptitiously glanced at Sparhawk, their earlier conversation coming to mind... maybe being a wizard wasn't such a good idea after all.

"B..bu..but don't worry!" stammered Neville seeing Hermione's downcast face, "Not everyone's mean like that! And we'll help you."

"You will?"

"Yeah, we're friends, after all!"

At that, the little girl blossomed and the three shook hands. Well, Hermione and Neville did. Sparhawk was grimly doting on the two of them.


A/N: And that's it. Short chapter, I know. but I wanted to save the sorting for another one. Now, the thing I'm most apprehensive about is how I'm going to write Hermione. I see her, in the initial stages at least, as a bright student desperate, not only for learning as her reading the school books twice would suggest, but also for friends. maybe she feels she will have more in common with wizards and witches than normal people. But that hope is currently being threatened by Malfoy and his goons. And I'm of the opinion that the sorting hat, when it has a tough time making choices turns to the student in question. And fickle, fickle eleven-year-olds, under such immense stress as something like sorting would put them, would give more weight to their recent experiences than any sort of long-term thinking. And I'm rambling here, but let's just say that we can all see where I'm going with this.

As always, read and review. Your words make me feel like a dying asthmatic. Absolutely breathless.