Requested by ImaginationStories - thank you so much!
I do not own Harry Potter, because if I did, I'd be super rich and probably famous. Which I'm not. All the bolded words are not my own.
You Filthy Little Mudblood
"Next up," said her brother, "is...'You Filthy Little Mudblood.'"
Many people gasped, offended, at this iteration from Insert Dark and Dramatic Name Here, but his sister hastily reassured them:
"My brother has nothing against blood - it's just the name of the next snippet we're going to watch!" she trilled.
Immediately many people relaxed, reassured by what she'd said.
Only Draco Malfoy looked immensely disconcerted by what was about to be seen.
The screen flickered to life.
Several people in green robes were walking onto the field, broomsticks in their hands.
"Oh, wasn't this in second year, with the Slytherin team interfering with our practice?" asked Oliver Wood, who'd apparently been in the room all along, but nobody had seen him before.
Many of the Quidditch players groaned. "Honestly, all the drama between Harry and Malfoy," Alicia commented to Angelina, who nodded.
"I don't believe it!" Wood hissed in outrage. "I booked the field for today! We'll see about this!"
"Fight! Fight!" chanted Lee Jordan eagerly, and then silenced at the look of warning on Minerva McGonagall's face.
"We did have a right to be there," Wood said, as if feeling the need to defend himself all these years later.
Wood shot toward the ground, landing rather harder than he meant to in his anger, staggering slightly as he dismounted. Harry, Fred, and George followed.
At the mention of Fred, many of the Weasley's and his close friends paled. It may have been several years, but Fred Weasley's death still struck a sad note with them all, George most of all. For comfort, Angelina took up George's hand, rubbing the back of it gently and reassuringly.
"I'm so sad Fred died," said Insert Dramatic and Dark Name Here in a sad voice.
"Shh, don't say that," his sister chided him.
"Flint!" Wood bellowed at the Slytherin Captain. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"
Marcus Flint was even larger than Wood. He had a look of trollish cunning on his face as he replied, "Plenty of room for all of us, Wood."
"He looks trollish because he is part troll," Draco scoffed. "And as for cunning...well, he definitely wasn't put into Slytherin for his brain."
Much to many people's horror, they found themselves agreeing with the youngest Malfoy.
"Well said, Draco!" Insert Awesome Name Here squealed excitedly, because of course she absolutely adored the pale-haired Slytherin, no matter what he'd done in the book.
Angelina, Alicia, and Katie had come over, too. There were no girls on the Slytherin team, who stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the Gryffindors, leering to a man.
"Yeah, why aren't there any girls?" asked Harry curiously. "I mean, I guess the girls in our grade weren't interested..."
"Can you imagine Parkinson on a broom?" Ron said, muffling his laughter.
Pansy tossed her hair, scrunching up her nose that had been dubbed 'pug-like' in the books. "Excuse me, if I wanted to, I could've been on the Quidditch team. But there are better things to do with my life."
"But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "I booked it!"
"Tsk, tsk," Draco said in a reprimanding tone, trying not to think of his upcoming role in the scene, which Hermione, Ron, and Harry, plus the other Quidditch players, already knew about but might not've remembered. "You'll have to argue better than that. Booking the field isn't a good enough excuse to kick out the Slytherin team."
Wood just glared, still apparently unable to think of a better argument.
"Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team per- mission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"
"That would be Malfoy," Ron all but growled, glaring at the boy.
"Why are you so upset about that?"
"You know why."
"You've got a new Seeker?" said Wood, distracted. "Where?"
Draco raised his hand. "I'm right here."
"Now," Wood replied. "But I didn't know you were Seeker then. That came as a complete surprise."
"Looking back on it, it doesn't shock me at all," Ron mumbled under his breath.
And from behind the six large figures before them came a sev- enth, smaller boy, smirking all over his pale, pointed face. It was Draco Malfoy.
"DUH DUH DUH!" Insert Awesome Name Here screamed in a dramatic voice. "Draco Malfoy...what's going to happen now?"
"If we watched without interruption we'd find out," her brother commented drily.
"Of course he's smirking," a lot of the people who'd gone to school with him all said in unison. How they all thought that same thought at the exact same moment was beyond knowing.
"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" said Fred, looking at Malfoy with dislike.
"Of course he is," Lucius sneered, but having been kept in Azkaban for several years, his condescension and his usual coldness was a bit frayed and weak, and it wasn't really a matter of pride any more to be of the Malfoy family; the reputation had been ruined by the war.
And this was also to help redeem the Malfoy name, of course.
"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the whole Slytherin team smiled still more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."
"Of course," Mr. Weasley said, his voice uncharacteristically sour to show his dislike and anger at the Malfoy's. "Rolling in money, spoiling their child, buying their way onto the team..."
"Excuse me, as much as that may be true, I did possess skill," Draco said in an offended tone of voice.
"So true, Drakey!" trilled both Parkinson and Insert Awesome Name Here, and both glared at each other.
All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One gleamed under the Gryffindors' noses in the early morning sun.
"Fancy," remarked Ginny sardonically. "I remember when those were a big deal." She turned her attention away from the screen, her hand still holding Harry's, and played peek-a-boo with little Teddy, who wasn't watching the screen either.
"Very latest model. Only came out last month," said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps" — he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives — "sweeps the board with them."
"Haha, Flint, you're so funny I can't laugh," Katie Bell remarked, her tone caked with sarcasm.
"And besides, the newest broom outstrips that Two Thousand and One by a considerable amount," Wood added knowledgeably, pleased to contribute to the conversation but also a little disappointed because pretty much the only contributions he'd give to the conversation were Quidditch facts. "So...that's an outdated broomstick."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, but back then, it was brand new."
"And when I got the Nimbus Two Thousand, it was new too," Harry added.
The blonde opened his mouth to surely retort waspishly, but was conveniently interrupted by the video, which didn't allow him to say anything so the author didn't have to come up with something.
None of the Gryffindor team could think of anything to say for a moment. Malfoy was smirking so broadly his cold eyes were reduced to slits.
Some of the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs laughed at this description, while a faint pink tinge graced Draco's otherwise pale face, because a Malfoy never really completely blushes.
"Can - can you do that for us now?" asked Parkinson, who was one of the Slytherins who'd laughed.
He sneered at her. "No."
"Well, you're kind of doing it now," she said.
"Oh, look," said Flint. "A field invasion."
"So, basically what the Slytherins were already doing..." Hermione said.
"Pretty much," Alicia and Katie agreed.
Ron and Hermione were crossing the grass to see what was going on.
"What's happening?" Ron asked Harry. "Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?"
"Weasley, I know it may go beyond the bounds of your ken, but I am the Seeker, and am therefore a part of the Quidditch team," Draco told the red-head.
"I know that now!" Ron snapped. "And it's not like you're my favorite person, or anything."
He was looking at Malfoy, taking in his Slytherin Quidditch robes.
"Merlin, you're thicker than I thought you were," Draco said. "I'm even wearing Quidditch robes and you didn't figure it out."
"I'm sorry, but the fact that you were Seeker was beyond my capabilities of believing," Ron replied.
"Similarly, the fact that you were Keeper was just as unbelievable, but it was quickly clear that you were no good," Draco sneered.
"You achieved the slits!" Pansy shrieked in a voice that was far too ecstatic for the accomplishment.
Draco immediately stopped sneering.
"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," said Malfoy, smugly. "Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team."
"Fancy," Ginny said sardonically again.
Ron gaped, openmouthed, at the seven superb broomsticks in front of him.
"Even the Weasel was impressed, which isn't saying much," Draco said, his voice as smug as it had been on the field that day.
"I thought you were supposed to be all 'redeemed' and 'resentful' and 'not as sarcastic and mean as you were before,'" Harry said.
"Sure, but I can still be sarcastic," Draco replied. "Sarcasm is one of my many charms."
Harry rolled his eyes, while Insert Awesome Name Here giggled because she thought both Harry and Draco were utterly fabulous.
"Good, aren't they?" said Malfoy smoothly. "But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them."
Many people rolled their eyes at this.
"Haha, put them in right along with those Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones," George said.
"And Potter's old Nimbus Two Thousand," Draco added, smirking again.
The Slytherin team howled with laughter.
"Oh, you're just hilarious," Hermione said.
"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," said Hermione sharply. "They got in on pure talent."
"Nice!" Bill said, giving Hermione a high-five while the Grangers beamed, proud their daughter had stood up.
The smug look on Malfoy's face flickered.
"He didn't like that," Ernie MacMillan added unnecessarily.
"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat.
There was a moment of silence as the wizards digested this. Draco flinched, looking very nervous, and the Grangers, who didn't know what 'Mudblood' meant, sensed something was wrong, looking worriedly at their daughter. Even the Dursleys were a bit rattled by the intense silence that had descended on the place to increase the drama of the moment.
Lucius wore an interesting expression on his face; somewhere between pride and anger, while Narcissa looked downright aghast.
"Draco - " she began in a reprimanding tone.
"I know, Mother," Draco immediately said. "But it was a long time ago, and I'm so sorry for what I said - let's face it, I was a complete and utter git at the time, and - "
He continued to babble in an uncharacteristic fashion, letting the reader know that he truly regretted what he'd said and had grown up through the war.
He received several angry looks, particularly from the Weasley's and Gryffindors.
But a majority of the anger was projected onto his parents, with comments like:
"How could you teach your son such prejudice?"
"Why would you call them Mudbloods? What kind of father are you?"
"He's only twelve; that's too young for all your hatred."
"A witch is a witch, regardless of her parentage."
Etc.
"We were all raised with different beliefs," Hermione intervened, standing up for the shaken-looking Malfoy's. "That's just the way the Malfoy's chose to raise Draco, and even though we may not agree with it, we can't criticize something that's already been done."
"Well said," Kingsley, who, like Wood, had seemingly randomly appeared (in reality, he'd been at Hogwarts when the mysterious white light had taken everyone to this room). Some people applauded to complete the moment.
It seemed everything was complete after this, but then the Granger's stepped in.
"What does Mudblood mean?" asked Mrs. Granger.
"Well, Mrs. Granger," Molly Weasley began, her voice sounding a bit bitter and not at all like its usual cheerful self. She would've called Mrs. Granger by her real name, but she didn't know it. "Mudblood is a rather...extreme name for someone who had no magical relatives...who is, as we call it, Muggleborn."
Mr. Granger looked furious at this. "How dare you - " he started at Draco, who immediately re-apologized, much to everyone's shock, because of course it was so rare to hear a Malfoy apologize, and realizing how lucky he was to hear this, Mr. Granger, who also didn't have a name, silenced.
Attention returned to the screen once more.
Harry knew at once that Malfoy had said something really bad because there was an instant uproar at his words. Flint had to dive in front of Malfoy to stop Fred and George jumping on him, Alicia shrieked, "How dare you!", and Ron plunged his hand into his robes, pulled out his wand, yelling, "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" and pointed it furiously under Flint's arm at Malfoy's face.
"A proper reaction," Minerva said approvingly. "Honestly, Mr. Malfoy, I am absolutely appalled by your behavior."
"But still, Ron," Molly said, her tone a bit disapproving. "I don't like you going about threatening student's faces with your wand."
"Yes, we wouldn't want to destroy Malfoy's perfect face," Ginny mocked.
"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Draco decided.
"Detention, Mr. Weasley," Harry said in an accurate impression of Snape. "And one hundred and fifty points from Gryffindor for event thinking of threatening Mr. Malfoy."
Ron snorted. "If that were true, then Gryffindor would have no house points left."
"I feel like I should be scared," Draco said.
A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron's wand, hitting him in the stomach and sending him reeling backward onto the grass.
"Oh no!" Molly said worriedly. "Ronald, are you okay? What happened?"
"Second year, Ron had a dysfunctional wand from the Whomping Willow," Hermione explained. "It malfunctioned a lot...which is what happened here. His spell backfired - embarrassing then, but pretty useful later on."
"Lockhart," both Harry and Ron muttered.
"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" squealed Hermione.
"Excuse me, I did not squeal!" Hermione squealed indignantly.
"You just did it again," Draco said, smirking.
Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead he gave an almighty belch and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto his lap.
"Ew," Angelina said, a look of disgust crawling onto her features. "I remember that now."
"As bad as I felt for Ron, it was really gross," Alicia added, shooting an apologetic look at the red-head.
Ron sighed. "It was intended for Malfoy..."
"That would've been funny," Katie added, and George nodded in agreement.
"Can you imagine, the pompous Malfoy doubled over on the ground, vomiting up slugs?" asked Ron, and then burst into laughter while Draco's cheeks tinged pink again.
"Still gross," Angelina decided.
The Slytherin team were paralyzed with laughter. Flint was doubled up, hanging onto his new broomstick for support. Malfoy was on all fours, banging the ground with his fist. The Gryffindors were gathered around Ron, who kept belching large, glistening slugs. Nobody seemed to want to touch him.
"On second thought, Malfoy already was doubled over," Ron commented brightly, before glumly adding, "with laughter."
"Is it mean of me to also find this amusing?" asked Neville, silently shaking with laughter in a very uncharacteristic moment.
"Yes," many people said.
"We'd better get him to Hagrid's, it's nearest," said Harry to Hermione, who nodded bravely, and the pair of them pulled Ron up by the arms.
"You are my heroes," Ron commented drily.
"What happened, Harry? What happened? Is he ill? But you can cure him, can't you?" Colin had run down from his seat and was now dancing alongside them as they left the field. Ron gave a huge heave and more slugs dribbled down his front.
And so, the snippet ended with many more disgusted faces because, in most cases, vomiting up slugs is gross.
"Where do the slugs come from?" asked Draco in a display of curiosity. "I know it's a spell, but are they lodged in his stomach and he just regurgitates them, or to they just appear in his throat and he - "
"Please don't finish that sentence," Insert Awesome Name Here pleaded in a chipper voice. "Well, wasn't that enlightening? Next up, we'll we watching...'I Must Not Tell Lies.'"
Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed! Thank you to the three reviewers who left requests! Feedback and requests are much appreciated. Thank you for reading!