AN: Yay I'm back. PLEASE READ THE MESSAGE AT THE BOTTOM! And thank you mythlover92 for your review.

Disclaimer: I love Jo to death. And I love her Universe to death. But really. I am not a middle aged woman people. And I'm American! I guess I'm trying to say I am both younger, and from a completely different continent. I don't own HP, though if I thought moving to England would do it, I'd be there in an instant.

"The term "Pure-Blood" was first coined in 1362, by Keid Black. Before this time, the term used for Pure-Bloods was simply "Trulies". Believing this name to be lacking in dignity, Black came up with a term he believed showed the hierarchy in the wizarding world. While the New-Trues and Half-Trues (as they were called then) attempted to hang on to trulies-as the new term was even more insulting-the overwhelming response from the newly named Pure-Bloods made this fad a lasting term."

-From "Purebloods, a History"

Being thrown from the floo, into another person is not fun. It is even less fun when said person is a snob.

In the Wizarding World, to most people there are two main factions. The Dark Faction-many of Pure-Bloods-, and the rest with the Muggle-Borns in the Light Faction. Half-Bloods, while more bearable to each side than the other, are still caught in the middle. Most of us are on the side of the Light, but a surprisingly large amount joined forces with Voldemort. No matter where we go, no matter which side we are interacting with, we are always treated with polite suspicion. Sometimes I think that the Muggle-Borns and Pure-Bloods have it better. At least they (no matter which side of the divide they are on) have at least one group of people who trust them completely.

On top of the Half-Bloods being suspicious, the Pure-Bloods aren't split down the middle, although no one will admit it. I suppose people believe it will bring moral down, but everyone knows that there are more dark purebloods than light.

On one side of this hierarchy are the Potters. On the other side, the Malfoys. The Potters are the most influential out of the two, mainly due to the fact we don't invest in psychotic dark lords and keeping ourselves out of prison.

There has never been enough conclusive evidence on Lucius Malfoy being a Death Eater. Of course his gold contributed to keeping several mouths shut, and to force those in charge to look the other way, but he also has a failsafe defense. He doesn't have the Dark Mark.

In previous governments, finding a dark mark simply meant that the person had been branded. It didn't mean that they weren't imperioused to work for Voldy. But when James came into power, he wasn't planning on letting people bollocks their way through these trials. But soon, the Death Marks began to disappear. One by one, slowly and steadily, until we couldn't tell if a person had ever carried a Dark Mark.

Some people thought it meant Voldy was vanquished…at least until the next attack occurred. No, good old Flight from Death decided that he needed to protect his followers so that they'd still be of some use to him. Of course, I don't think the bloody bastards, or rather, "upstanding members of society" would be worth saving. But, hey, Voldemort always was a bit batty. Anyway, back to the Snob.

I had just been thrown from the fire place, when I tripped over someone's foot into a boy's back. After dusting myself off, I found myself saying "Sorry, mate. Some people need to watch their feet." Before looking down at the boy I knocked over and offering my hand. That's when I got my first full view of him, leading to where I am now.

Draco Malfoy is, perhaps, the shortest 11 year-old boy I have ever seen. Considering the height of his Mother and Father, however, I suppose he will grow out of it. His platinum blonde hair is gelled back, making his chin look pointed, and slightly weak. His eyes are a cool gray, like most pureblood's, but instead of being filled with the polite irritation I usually expect from an heir, his eyes are filled with fire, like he's about to start hurling insults at me.

He restrains himself, once he dusts his acromantula silk robes off, after looking disdainfully at my hand.

"And who, might I ask, would you be?" he asks coolly.

"Rebecca." I reply shortly, not intending to reveal my last name, especially considering that we attract quite a bit of attention when Lucius Malfoy begins to walk towards Draco and I.

Luckily, Malfoy Sr. stops just behind Draco, and gestures for him to continue. Almost like he's testing his son. Draco hesitates before saying, "With your choice of clothing, I don't suppose I should be surprised by your plebian manors. I mean, what is your family name?"

Crap. Backed into a corner. I feel Neville come up behind me.

"Malfoy." He nods his head in greeting. "What is your issue with my best friend?" he says the last part tiredly. Shite. Neville only uses that voice when he really doesn't like someone.

"Longbottom." Draco-Malfoy, rather- replies, coolly, yet politely. "I was simply interested in the identity of the person who ran into me. Is she under your protection?"

I barely hold in a gasp, and I see several other patrons looking at our little group in shock. Each pureblood family has the ability to offer protection to one Muggle-Born per generation, and they are practically adopted into the family. It's a very serious decision, one that isn't often made before Hogwarts.

Neville, however, doesn't waver for a second. "No, she does not need it. She comes from a Pure-Blood family." I watch with sight satisfaction as both Malfoy Sr. and Jr.'s eyebrows rise infinitesimally at that statement. Clearly the thought never crossed their minds that I could be anything other than Muggle-Born.

"Oh?" replies Malfoy, slightly shaken. "And which one might that be?" I can see in his eyes he thinks he's pulled Neville's bluff. Neville looks at me, as if asking for my permission to reveal my name. And I know I'll never receive any respect if I do not stand for myself now. So I give Neville a slight shake of my head, and turn to Malfoy.

"I apologize, heir Malfoy, for my former lack of manners. My name is Rebecca Potter, of the most Ancient and Noble house of Potter. I shall also apologize for any injury I may have caused you due to my lack of grace exiting the floo." I say this with as straight a face as possible, and with my best posture, as I begin to cross-reference the English dictionary with How to speak Snob, as I like to call pureblood speech.

Malfoys mouth drops open, he's no longer even trying to hide his surprise. I focus on him, even as Neville flashes me a startled look (he's never seen me speak this way before), the people who are listening mutter, and a camera flashes. I stand there, calmly and perfectly poised. My hair is in a simple braid, nothing fancy. I'm wearing jeans and a green t-shirt. But quite frankly, I feel regal. I feel strong, and powerful, like no one can stop me. And I know I need to leave soon or the feeling will overwhelm me.

Magic must see my need, because at that moment, she answers my unspoken plea for help. Alice and Frank walk out of the Floo. And immediately see Neville and me, facing off with Malfoy. I track their progress towards us out of the corner of my eye. I cannot relax my posture, even when they stand by me. I must extract an apology from Malfoy or the honor of the House of Potter will never be satisfied. And I may hate my father, but I do not hate my family.

Malfoy recovers from his shock. "I see. I apologize, heiress Potter, for the slight on your person." And that's what it was. By indicating I might be Muggle-Born, he insulted the blood of the House of Potter. And while I may not care about the particulars of the insult, or care that he supposedly insulted me, I do care that he did inadvertently insult my family.

"It was a misunderstanding heir Malfoy. No such misunderstanding shall take place again, I trust?" I am making them crawl and beg. I am making them writhe. I am, although politely, showing how much better I am than Malfoy. I am cold, I am untouchable, I am powerful.

"It shall not happen again heiress Potter. Such as I hope that no one will have any cause to challenge your grace again." Ouch. He's good. But I'm better.

"Why of course not! Such as no one will ever be able to question that when we make it to Hogwarts, you will be the very beacon of all the Ministry stands for!"

I can see the confusion in his eyes. He does not understand what I am implying. "Why is that, heiress Potter?" Time to spell it out for him.

"Why, with your family so embroiled in the politics of my father's government," here I revel in seeing a flash of anger in both the Malfoy's eyes. It is well known that my father is the only thing stopping them from buying the entire Ministry's pockets. "I am certain that we will be able to count on you to strengthen the country during this time where terrorism is so…common." There, I have done it. He must either back down by agreeing with me, or let speculation run rampant. I can see by the look of defeat in his eyes that he knows he has lost. I am sure Draco Malfoy ill not be allowed out of the house without his father covering several more of the etiquette policies. Malfoy won't be allowed out until Hogwarts or until he can satisfy his father. So until Hogwarts.

"Of course. It is all our duties to help the community through such a troubling time. We must," and here he almost seems to choke on the words, "Thank your father for his fine work in protecting the citizens of Magical Britain." He bows stiffly, and I nod. I have won. He turns and walks away, his father following him. I turn around to face the Longbottoms, all of whom are staring at me in shock. All four of us turn to leave.

BHPBHPBHPBHPBHPBHPBHPBHP

When we make it outside I throw up. I am so filled with adrenaline that it all needs to go somewhere. During the Pureblood pissing contest I felt powerful. My magic rose to the surface, ready to be used. Ready to shine. I felt alive.

Generally, I stick to my books, denying the fact I am who I am. However, when I said my name…I felt like a part of me was desperate to join with the rest of me. Hence why I am throwing up. It was disconcerting.

After I start to calm down, I become aware of a hand on my shoulder. Frank's hand. I next become aware of Alice rubbing my back. I begin to calm down. After wiping my mouth (and letting Alice clean it) I look up to see Neville staring at me in shock.

"What?" I ask irritably. "Never seen me throw up before?" Because of course he has, we have been best friends since infanthood. Not seeing me throw up would have been impossible, just like I've seen him naked plenty of times and him I. Though not in recent years, of course.

"No." he says quite simply and doesn't elaborate.

"Then what?"

Neville looks at me, and there's something in his eyes I can't understand. "I've never felt you as clearly as I just did." And suddenly I understand.

(AN: Don't hate me for this, but I feel that a pov switch is the best way to explain this.)

Neville POV

I have slight empathetic abilities. I can get reading on anyone, but my readings are very vague unless I knows the person well. Becca has always been easier for me to read than anyone else, even my family. But Becca is also the hardest person to read according to the basic rules of empathy.

All people have a base…I guess you could call it a hum. Their emotions hum and tingle and throb, and that's how I sense them. Every person has a base feeling, and all their emotions change, but the base feeling stays the same. Becca's base feeling is always changing.

Not completely, mind you. Her base feeling is always a rather…I guess you could say… hard hum, as if it's trying to make sure you feel the vibrations. But it changes slightly. It can be slow, fast, languid, or like particles heating up. But when she confronted Malfoy…oh magic.

Her hum changed slightly. I began to vibrate slightly faster than usual, and her humming became a thrum that shook me slightly. Any empath within a mile could have felt her. Becca literally shone. Becca was filled with cold, smooth, power. Like a Slytherin snake, yet somehow different. She wasn't cruel, she was simply…better. Becca found herself in that moment…and the only way she'll ever be complete is if she finds that part of her again.

BHPBHPBHPBHPBHP

AN: Okay everybody! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Merry Christmas! I update every Thursday, but couldn't last week due to finals. Since Tomorrow is Christmas, I'm posting a day early. I hope none of you hate me for my impromptu POV switch. I very rarely do them, but they will pop up on occasion.

So, who likes my idea for empathy? I've always found the description of how empaths sense emotions to be silly. I think that it is all based on pure feeling, but imagine how those poor empaths would feel if they were constantly having the emotions of others pressing down on them. It's more evolutionarily sound to have empath sensing toned down.

I'd like to thank mythlover92 for their review, my only! To answer some of their questions:

In regards to the story being broken up into separate years:

I honestly don't know. Whatever is most convenient.

On the subject of Becca and Neville's relationship:

I can see them falling in love, and originally that was my plan. But then I thought of all the awesome yet underrated Cannon Characters Becca and Neville could be with! And so, for no my answer is: we'll wait and see.

Of course, Mythlover92 received answers in more detail in the private message I sent in return. Please read and review, and I will try to answer any questions you may have so long as they aren't explained in already written chapters.

So, read and review, and I'll see you next Thursday!

Signing off,

-PerfectionJune