A/N: Happy New years! Here's a little gift to bring in the new year! :)

Chapter 2: Bigot

Bigot: A person who is utterly intolerant of any differing creed, belief, or opinion.

Draco entered the Slytherin common room, his head held high and a sneer showing easily on his face, but he did not get the expected reception. Instead he was met with by immediate silence. He looked over at the groups of people huddled together glancing at him, trying to not get caught. He swept the room with his ice blue eyes, slowly; as he passed each group they looked away biting their tongues and trying to look busy.

Pansy and Blaise, shadowed by Crabbe and Goyle approached him. Pansy looking slightly scared and Blaise was sneering. Draco smirked slightly to himself as his familiar groupies approached him, but instead of moving to his flanks as usual they stood behind Blaze, who was still sneering insufferably.

"Zabini?" Draco said, actually quite bored with this movement already.

"We heard about your dirty little mudblood. Taste of mud good to you, Draco?" Blaze challenged arching an eyebrow. So that's what he thought, well we couldn't have that. Draco moved forward. He was fast and Blaise had no chance to catch him. Before he knew it he was pinned against the dungeon wall, Draco's hand around his skinny little neck.

"Before you wouldn't even dare to say my first name Blaise, what's got you changing, hmm? I think I liked you better as a sniveling shadow. Now, unless you want the Malfoys to remind you're family exactly how far you have fallen, I suggest you treat me with the respect I am owed." Draco didn't raise his voice throughout this but everyone in the room heard him, their eyes wide at Zabini's brief revolt against Malfoy.

"Oh, and one more thing Blaise, unless you want me to show you exactly how much lower your family could sink then you will not accuse me of anything, ever; especially not of being a mudblood lover." Draco finished, slowly cutting of Zabini's air supply for emphasis. "They are scum, and you are almost as low as they are right now, Blaise. Now be a good little boy and do as you're told."

Draco let go, acting as if Zabini was something disgusting that he didn't want to be touching. Zabini fell to the ground coughing and holding his throat, trying to bring in the valuable oxygen he had been deprived. Draco just rolled his eyes and walked away smoothly, settling on one of the emerald couches.

"Anyone else care to accuse me of being a blood-traitor?" He asked bored. The room sat in stony silence. The Slytherin's knew when their prince was in a bad mood, so they stayed quiet, he didn't like to be disturbed. Pansy looked relieved at the turn of events and ran over to sit beside the prince, acting sleazy as she was to do around him.

"Oh, Dracie-poo, I knew you never could have really kissed that mudblood whore! She probably wished you'd just look at her. Honestly it so pathetic. And poor you, you have to put up with her and her assault on you. You had to actually endure kissing a mudblood!" Pansy looked like she was going to retch at the thought and she moved forward her arms wrapped around Draco's neck.

"Parkinson," Draco said precisely, spitting out her name coldly. "Do not touch me."

"But-but Drakie!"

"You were right there beside Zabini when he was riding his high horse. Sure he can't stand up now, but you were standing with him when he could. You were just as ready as to accuse me as he was. So get your hands off of me." Pansy nodded quickly pulling away as he growled out his response to her advance. She looked down in submission as the Slytherin Prince continued to glare at her. She didn't know why but something about his eyes, they froze you where you stood.

Draco hissed at her standing up quickly and walked out of the room, he had had enough of this disloyalty. He strode through the dungeon hallways half wanting to run into some students out when they shouldn't be, and half wanting to be left alone. He gave the password to the Head Boy's and Girls room and walked impatiently by the child in the painting into the dim common room.

If the lights were out that meant Granger was already in bed, pity. He would have had fun running the little mudblood in circles about their so called kiss. Honestly how could anyone think that was a kiss? They had barely even touched! It was ridiculous, and if the mudblood thought that was a kiss she had less of a life than he had thought.

She was disgusting, and pathetic, always reading and never talking to anyone. No wonder she had no clue what a kiss was, she pushed everyone out of her life. She probably thought she was better than them, but really he knew the reason why she did what she did. He stood in front of her bedroom door, panting angrily as his eyes absorbed the pattern of the wood.

She knew what she was, and she knew she didn't deserve her friends, they were more pure than her, and she didn't deserve them. That's why she pushed them away; they were too good for her. She always had to work so hard, staying up till nearly dawn, because this magic didn't come naturally to her like it did to purebloods. She knew why she had to work so hard. The question was, if she knew she didn't deserve it, why did she insist on trying again and again?

He shook his head, why should he care? She was a dumb, lowlife, mudblood; one who was no concern of his. He stalked across the common room, placing his hand on his own door so it would open for him and slamming it behind him. The bitch deserved to be woken up by him, he didn't deserve sharing living quarters with her. He was so above her! And he was forced to stay where he could smell her at all hours, know where she was and what the hell she was doing.

Draco removed his school robes, tie and shirt, and walked over to his dresser. On top was a container filled with vials and he opened it up reverently and gently removed one of the little containers. He popped the top off and drank down his one version of holy water quickly. The energy given by his drink ran through his blood and he smiled some sick version of what a smile was supposed to be.

He picked up a nearby chair easily throwing it across the room and watched it shatter into pieces on the opposite wall. He should have done that to that mudblood, he could have broken her so easily. He was weak and had hesitated, that wouldn't happen again.

He looked at the full length mirror beside him and moved his hand out quickly, held in a tight fist, to hit the glass. It cracked around his hand, but held steady, the lines he had created going across his face in the mirror.

Yes, this was what he was. He was pure and he was amazing. He was practically a god walking on this earth and that mudblood bitch was going to see that! If it was the last thing he would ever do he would make her see it.