Mudbloods and Murmurs

Whenever Arthur saw Gilderoy Lockhart coming down a corridor for the next few days, he'd hide to ensure he didn't have any more interactions with him.

But Colin Creevey was much harder to avoid, to the point that Arthur thought that the first year had memorised his timetable. It was such a big thrill for him to say "Alright, Arthur?" six or seven times a day and all Arthur could say was "Hello, Colin." not wanting to come across as rude for not wanting to have Colin meet him more than he wanted to.

With Athena, she thankfully forgave Arthur for the disastrous car journey as she came to him and nipped his fingers affectionately and he gave her more food than he normally gave her to make up for what he did.

But David's wand still malfunctioned, surpassing itself on Friday morning as it shot out of his hand and hit Professor Flitwick between the eyes, creating a large, throbbing green boil where it struck. David apologised non stop to him, who assured him that it was alright and that he's been dealt with worse. Arthur was so glad that this didn't happen to Snape as he wouldn't even come close to being this calm.

Ultimately, with one thing after another, Arthur was glad once the weekend came around. He and the others planned to visit Hagrid on Saturday morning, though Arthur got shaken awake hours earlier than he normally would wake up by Oliver Wood, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"Whassisit?" Arthur hissed grumpily. He was always cranky when woken up early.

"Quidditch practice! Come on!"

Arthur squinted his stinging eyes at the window, seeing a thin mist hanging across the pink and gold sky. Seeing that he was now awake, he found himself questioning how he was able to sleep through the birds making a racket.

"Who in their right mind wakes up at the crack of dawn?" Arthur questioned Wood, a tall and burly sixth year and his eyes gleamed with a mad enthusiasm, which is expected as he treats Quidditch as though it was a religion.

"It's part of our new training programme. Come on, grab your broom and let's go. None of the other teams have started training yet, we're going to be first off the mark this year…." Wood said heartily.

So, yawning and shivering, Arthur climbed out of bed and grabbed his Quidditch uniform.

"Good man. Meet you on the pitch in fifteen minutes."

Once he grabbed his scarlet uniform with the number seven on it and pulled on his cloak to be as warm as possible. He even wrote a note for David explaining where he went and made his way down the spiral staircase to the common room with his Nimbus Two Thousand on his shoulder. He even took his wand with his, just in case.

He had reached the portrait hole when a clatter came from behind him and saw that Colin Creevey was dashing down the staircase, camera swinging madly around his neck and something else clutched in his hand. He tried his hardest not to groan, and he even questioned why he'd be awake this early.

"I heard someone saying your name on the stairs, Arthur. Look what I've got here! I've had it developed, I wanted to show you-"

Not wanting to, Arthur looked at the photograph he brandished under his nose. It was a moving black and white picture of when Lockhart arrived in the courtyard. Arthur was pleased to see that he was clearly trying to get out of view in the photo.

"Will you sign it?" Colin asked eagerly.

"No. I'm sorry, Colin but I'm in a hurry, Quidditch practice…." Arthur replied, going through the portrait hole.

"Oh wow! Wait for me! I've never watched a Quidditch game before!" Colin scrambled after him through the hole, making Arthur sigh deeply through his nose wishing this boy could leave him alone.

"It's top secret. And it'll be boring anyway." He tried to come up with an excuse to make Colin leave him, but it didn't work as Colin ignored him, his face full of excitement.

"You were the youngest house player in a hundred years, weren't you, Arthur?" He said, trotting alongside him. "You must be brilliant. I've never flown. Is it easy? Is that your own broom? Is that the best one there is?"

Arthur truly wished he knew how to get rid of this annoying chatterbox of a student.

"I don't really understand Quidditch. Is it true there are four balls? And two of them fly round trying to knock people off their brooms?"

Arthur found himself resigning to explain Quidditch as best he could with the balls, the players, the rules and fouls.

It took until they exited the castle that Colin finally understood it well enough. Of course, Colin still asked him questions as they went down the sloping lawns to the Quidditch pitch and Arthur was finally able to shake Colin off when he got to the changing rooms.

"I'll go and get a good seat, Arthur!" Colin called out as he hurried off to the stands.

Arthur saw that the rest of the team were in the changing room already. Wood was the only one of them all to be truly awake. Both Jack and Kevin Merlon were sitting puffy eyed and their hair was messier than it normally is. They function as the team's Beaters. They sat next to Alicia Spinnet, a fourth year Chaser, who was nodding off against the wall behind her. Her fellow Chasers, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell were both yawning side by side opposite them.

"There you are, Arthur, what kept you?" Wood asked briskly. "Now, I wanted a quick talk with you all before we actually get onto the pitch, because I spent the summer devising a whole new training programme, which I really think will make all the difference…."

He held up a large diagram that had the Quidditch pitch on it with many lines, arrows and crosses on it in different colours. He then took out his wand and tapped the board which caused the arrows to wiggle over the diagram a lot like caterpillars. And as Wood launched into a speech about his new tactics, Jack's head drooped onto Alicia's shoulder.

The first board had taken up twenty minutes to explain and yet there was another board under that, and a third under that one. Arthur found himself nearly going back to sleep as Wood went on and on.

"So…" Wood said at long last, jerking Arthur from a fantasy of what he could eat for breakfast at this moment up at the castle. "...is that clear? Any questions?"

"No offence, Oliver, but you could've just told us all this yesterday so that we could know already." Kevin said. This didn't make Wood pleased.

"Now, listen here, you lot." He said, glowering at every team member. "We should have won the Quidditch Cup last year. We're easily the best team. But unfortunately, owing to circumstances beyond our control…."

Arthur looked away in guilt as he was unconscious in the hospital wing during the time the final match occurred the previous year, which meant that Gryffindor was a player short and suffered their worst defeat in three hundred years.

Wood had a moment to regain control of himself, it was clear that their last defeat was still torturing them all, him in particular.

"So, this year, we train harder than ever before…. Okay, let's go and put our new theories into practice!" Wood shouted, seizing his broomstick and leading the team out of the changing rooms. Of course, they were all stiff legged and still yawning.

They were in the changing room for so long that the sun was properly up in the sky, though remnants of mist still hung over the grass in the stadium. As Arthur walked out into the pitch, there were both David and Chrys in the stands.

"Haven't you finished?" David called out in annoyance.

"We haven't even started, thanks to Wood." Arthur called back envious at the fact that the two had toast and jam from the Great Hall.

Feeling resentful, he mounted his broomstick and kicked off the ground, soaring up into the air. Feeling the cool morning air woke him up much better than any speech Wood manes. And it felt wonderful to be back on the Quidditch pitch as he soared up and around the whole stadium at top speed, racing Jack and Kevin on their Cleansweep Sevens.

"Why am I hearing clicking noises?" Jack questioned as he and his brother hurtled around the corner.

Arthur looked into the stands and saw Colin sitting in a seat in one of the towers, camera raised, taking one picture after another, its sound oddly magnified in the nearly empty stadium.

"Look this way, Arthur!" He cried out shrilly.

"Who's that?" Jack asked.

"Our resident annoyance in Gryffindor." Arthur groaned before he gained speed to get as far away from Colin as possible.

"What's going on?" Wood asked, frowning as he skimmed towards them. "Why's that first year taking pictures? I don't like it. He could be a Slytherin spy, trying to find out about our new training programme."

"He's in Gryffindor, Wood. And he has an unhealthy obsession with me." Arthur told him bluntly.

"Plus the Slytherins don't need a spy because they're here." Kevin pointed at several people in green uniforms walking onto the pitch with broomsticks in their hands.

"I don't believe it! I booked the pitch for today! We'll see about this!" Wood hissed, just outraged at this new development. He then shot towards the ground, landing harder than he meant in his hanger, staggering a bit as he dismounted. Arthur and the twins followed after.

"Flint!" Wood bellowed at the oafish Slytherin captain. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

Flint was larger compared to Wood. Arthur always thought he looked like a human troll and had large teeth, making him look more like an idiot.

"Plenty of room for all of us, Wood." He told Wood.

The three Chasers came over as well. There weren't any girls in the Slytherin Quidditch team.

"But I booked the pitch! I booked it!" Wood spat in utter rage and Arthur didn't blame him.

"Ah, but I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practise today on the Quidditch pitch, owing to the need to train their new Seeker."

"You've got a new Seeker?" Wood said, sounding distracted. "Where?"

From behind the six larger figures came a seventh boy. He was smaller and Arthur saw that it was Draco Malfoy with his pale, pointed face smirking at everyone.

"What are you doing here, you no talent hack? Got put in thanks to your daddy?" Jack asked with dislike.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father." Flint said as he and the whole Slytherin team smiled more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

All seven of them held out their broomsticks, which were all highly polished, black and with brand new handles with seven sets of gold lettering that spelled out the words 'Nimbus Two Thousand and One' gleaming under the Gryffindors' noses in the early morning sun. Arthur remembered what Draco and Lucius were talking about when they first entered Borgin and Burkes about getting Draco a broom.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month." Flint told them carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own, looking so smug Arthur wanted to wipe it off his stupid face.

"I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps…" He had a nasty smile looking at the twins and their Cleansweep Sevens. "...sweeps the board with them."

No one on the Gryffindor team had anything to say while Draco smirked so broadly that his cold eyes were reduced to slits. Arthur clutched onto his wand tightly, knowing just what to use on him and the rest of the Slytherin team.

"Oh look. A pitch invasion." Flint then said as David and Chrys crossed the grass to see what was going on.

"What the hell's going on? Why aren't you playing and why is that incest git doing here?" David asked, pointing with venom at Draco.

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Merlon." Draco said with smug, ignoring the incest jab. "Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team."

David looked and his jaw dropped in shock as he looked at the seven broomsticks.

"Good, aren't they? But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Sevens, I expect a museum would bid for them."

The whole Slytherin team howled with laughter.

"Yeah, well the Gryffindor team has nothing but talent. All you've got is your father to buy your way into things." Chrys stated cold facts with sharpness in her voice. This then made Draco's smug look to falter slightly.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood." He then spat.

Arthur and Chrys may not know what exactly he said but it was clearly bad. And it was proven when David and the entire Gryffindor team went ballistic.

Both Jack and Kevin tried to get at Draco but Flint dove in front of Draco to protect him. The Chasers all shrieked in disgust and David looked truly outraged as he pulled out his wand.

"You'll pay for that one, Draco!" He roared.

"No, wait!" Arthur tried to stop him from casting a spell at Draco but he was too late as a loud bang echoed and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of David's wand, hitting him in the stomach and sending him backwards onto the grass.

"David! Are you alright?" Chrys shrieked. David tried to speak but when he opened his mouth, no words came out and instead was a huge belch before several slugs came out of his mouth and onto his lap.

All of the Slytherin team were just paralysed with laughter. Flint had to hang onto his broomstick as he doubled up and Draco was on all fours banging on the ground with his fist.

As the Gryffindor team gathered around David, Arthur decided to put his little plan into action.

He grabbed his wand, pointed it at the whole Slytherin team and whispered very quietly "Furnunculus,", causing gold light to hit the whole Slytherin team and as he put his wand away, the whole Slytherin team gasped in horror and pain as every inch of their skin was covered in boils and pimples. Thankfully, none of them saw who cast it.

David kept belching up large, glistening slugs, making none of the Gryffindor team or Chrys not want to touch him.

"We're gonna have to take him to Hagrid's, he's the closest." Arthur told Chys, who nodded bravely and the two pulled David up by the arms. Meanwhile, the Gryffindor team saw the state of the Slytherins and all laughed their asses off, making Arthur feel proud of himself.

"What happened, Arthur? What happened? Is he ill? But you can cure him, can't you?" Colin had run down from his seat and now danced alongside them as they left the pitch. Poor David gave a huge heave and many more slugs dribbled down out of his mouth.

"Oooh. Can you hold him still, Arthur?" Colin asked, fascinated and raising his camera.

"LEAVE US ALONE AND GO AWAY!" Arthur bellowed out, furious at Colin for seeing this as an opportunity to get another photo. He and Chrys supported David out of the stadium and through the grounds to the edge of the Forest where Hagrid's hut is.

"We're almost there, David, just hang in there." Chrys assured him as the hut came into view.

But when they reached twenty feet of Hagrid's house, the front door opened and Lockhart of all people emerged, this time wearing pale mauve robes.

"Behind here." Arthur hissed, dragging David behind a bush.

"It's a simple matter if you know what you're doing!" Lockhart said loudly to Hagrid, sounding a bit offended, which Arthur liked to hear. "If you need help, you know where I am! I'll let you have a copy of my book, I'm surprised you haven't already got one. I'll sign one tonight and send it over. Well, goodbye!" And he then strode off to the castle.

After making sure he was out of sight, Arthur and Chrys pulled David out of the bush and went to Hagrid's hut. They then knocked urgently.

Hagrid opened the door, looking grumpy, but his expression changed upon seeing who it was.

"Bin wonderin' when you'd come ter see me. Come in, come in, thought you mighta bin Professor Lockhart back again."

Arthur and Chrys led David in over the threshold into the two roomed cabin, which had an enormous bed in a corner, a fire crackling in another. Hagrid didn't seem that phased by David's condition while Arthur explained to him as he lowered David into a chair.

"Better out than in. Get 'em all up, David." Hagrid said cheerfully, plonking a copper basin in front of him.

"There doesn't seem to be anything to do until it just stops." Chrys noted as she watched David bend over the basin. "Heck, that curse can be difficult to work, especially with a broken wand…."

Hagrid was busy, bustling around and making the trio tea. Meanwhile, Fang, his boarhound, slobbered over Arthur.

"Why was Lockhart even here?" Arthur decided to ask Hagrid as he scratched Fang's ears.

"Givin' me advice on gettin' kelpies out of a well." He growled, moving a half plucked rooster off of the table and settled down the teapot. "Like I don' know. An' bangin' on about some Banshee he banished. If one word of it is true, I'll eat my kettle."

To see Hagrid criticise a Hogwarts teacher like this surprised Arthur.

"Thing is, why would Dumbledore even hire him? He was incompetent in our DADA class with the pixies." Chrys noted.

"He was the on'y man for the job." Hagrid explained, offering a plate of treacle toffee as David coughed squelchy into the basin, making Arthur cringe at the sounds he was making. "An' I mean the on'y one. Gettin' very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see. They're startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now."

"So tell me…" He then said, jerking his head to David. "...who was he tryin' ter curse?"

"Draco. He called Chrys something. I don't know what it was but it was really bad since everyone went mad." Arthur said.

"It was bad. That git called her a Mudblood-" David said hoarsely, looking pale and sweaty before he dived back in the basin to throw up a new wave of slugs. Hagrid looked outraged.

"He didn'!" He growled, looking at Chrys.

"He did. I may not know what it means but it was clearly an offensive word."

"It's the most insulting thing to call someone." David said, coming back up. "Mudblood is the most offensive term to call a Muggle-Born, someone born from non magical parents. There are some wizarding families, like the Malfoys, who think that because they're pure-bloods, they're better than everyone else." he gave a burp and a small slug fell into an outstretched hand before being thrown into the basin. "They're all stupid as it doesn't matter what your blood status is. Look at Neville, he's a pure-blood and he can barely stand a cauldron the right way up."

"An' they haven't invented a spell our Chrys can't do." Hagrid proudly said, making her form a shade of magenta.

"It's just disgusting to call someone that." David said as he wiped his sweaty brow with a shaking hand. "Those fanatics just don't understand that if we hadn't married Muggles, we'd have died out long ago. Look at my family, there are plenty of half-bloods and Muggle-Borns in my family tree." He then retched and ducked out of sight once more. Arthur patted his back in comfort.

"Of course, I actually managed to curse Draco and the Slytherin team with the Pimple Jinx. They didn't know I cast it." Arthur pointed out, proudly.

"Well, I don' blame yeh fer tryin' ter curse him." Hagrid said loudly over the thuds of some more slugs hitting the basin. "An' you're lucky they din' see yeh castin' that jinx. 'Spect Lucius Malfoy would've come marchin' up ter school if he knew yeh'd cursed his son. Least yer not in trouble."

Arthur considered having a treacle toffee but he decided not to when Chrys had one and it cemented her jaw together.

"Arthur…" Hagrid then suddenly said as though a thought came into his head. "...gotta bone ter pick with yeh. I've heard you've bin givin' out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?"

This just infuriated Arthur to the point he slammed his fist on the table.

"I HAVEN'T! If Lockhart is still making people think-" He cut himself off when he noticed that Hagrid was laughing.

"I'm on'y jokin'." He said, patting Arthur's back gently. "I knew yeh hadn't really. I told Lockhart yeh didn' need teh. Yer more famous than him without tryin'."

"I'm willing to bet he hated that." Arthur grinned, seeing someone talk back at that idiot.

"He did." Hagrid replied, eyes twinkling. "An' then I told him I'd never read one o' his books an' he decided ter go. Treacle toffee, David?" He added when David showed up again.

"No, thanks. Don't want to risk it." He said, sounding just as weak as he looks.

"Come an' see what I've bin growin'." Hagrid then said as Arthur and Chrys finished off their tea.

In the small vegetable patch next to Hagrid's hut were around a dozen of the largest pumpkins Arthur has ever seen. They were each the size of large boulders.

"Gettin' on well, aren't they? Fer the Hallowe'en feast… should be big enough by then." Hagrid said happily.

"What did you feed them?" Arthur asked, sounding amused and surprised. Hagrid then looked over his shoulder to check that they were the only ones there.

"Well, I've bin givin' them… you know… a bit o' help." Arthur had noticed Hagrid's flowery pink umbrella leaning against the cabin. Arthur had suspected that Hagrid's snapped wand was kept inside it. He was expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, though he didn't say why. Whenever Arthur brought the subject up, Hagrid would act as though he hadn't heard and changed the subject.

"You must've used an Engorgement Charm. You've done a good job with them." Chrys said in amusement.

"That's what yer little sister said." Hagrid said, nodding over to David.

It was nearly lunchtime and Arthur was really keen to have something to eat as he didn't even have breakfast and didn't have any of Hagrid's treacle toffee. The trio said goodbye to Hagrid and walked up to the castle, David hiccuping every once in a while, though only bringing up two small slugs.

They had barely entered the cool Entrance Hall when a voice called out.

"There you are, Pendergast, Merlon." McGonagall walked towards them, looking stern. "You will both do your detentions this evening."

"So what are we doing, Professor?" David said nervously, holding back a burp to not come across as rude in front of her.

"You will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr Filch." She said. "And no magic, Merlon. Elbow grease."

This made David hold back a groan as Filch, the caretaker, was loathed by practically every student in the school.

"And you, Pendergast, will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail." McGonagall then said, making Arthur sigh through his nose and have his mouth form a thin line.

"Why does it have to be him?" He asked, holding back his temper.

"He requested you particularly. Eight o'clock sharp, both of you."

The two boys slouched into the Great Hall, just so mad about their detentions, despite knowing they deserved it. Arthur wasn't even hungry for his shepherd's pie, knowing he'll suffer Lockhart's ego once more.

"Filch is gonna have me there all night. And no magic, too! There's gonna be hundreds of trophies in that room. I'm just glad that I know how to clean like a Muggle." David groaned.

"I'd rather do that than help Lockhart answer his fan mail. It's gonna be a nightmare…." Arthur replied hollowly.

The afternoon that Saturday came and melted away as though no time passed.

It was five to eight o'clock and Arthur was forcing himself to drag along to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom where Lockhart's office is situated up a staircase at the back of the classroom where the front desk is. After climbing up the stairs, he gritted his teeth and knocked.

The door flew open instantly and Lockhart beamed down at him.

"Ah, here's the scallywag! Come in, Arthur, come in." he said.

Shining on all the walls by the light of many candles were countless framed photographs of Lockhart, which didn't surprise Arthur. There were a few that he had even signed. There was another large pile on his desk.

"You can address the envelopes!" Lockhart told Arthur, as though this was going to be a treat, when it won't. "This first one's to Gladys Gudgeon, bless her, huge fan of mine."

Every second dragged for eternity. Arthur would let Lockhart's voice wash over him, catching the occasional phrase like 'Fame's a fickle friend, Arthur' or 'Celebrity is as celebrity does, remember that'.

The candles would burn lower and lower, which made the light that danced over the moving faces of Lockhart that watched him.

Arthur moved his sore hand over what had to be the thousandth envelope, writing out Veronica Smethley's address, thinking that it had to be close to when this would all be over.

That was when he heard something. It was a voice, not Lockhart's, but a voice that seemed to chill the bone marrow and one of breathtaking ice cold venom. And what shocked Arthur the most was that he felt immense rage and fury consume him, the same kind he felt when he met Voldemort months ago.

"Come… come to me… let me rip you… let me tear you… let me kill you…."

The voice caused him to jump, causing a large lilac blot to appear on Veronica Smethley's street.

"What the….?" He said loudly.

"I know!" Lockhart said, oblivious. "Six solid months at the top of the bestseller list! Broke all records!"

"Not that. I heard a voice." Arthur told him frantically.

"Sorry? What voice?" Lockhart questioned, looking puzzled.

"I heard a voice. You didn't hear it?" Lockhart looked at him with high astonishment.

"What are you talking about, Arthur? Perhaps you're getting a little drowsy? Great Scott, look at the time! We've been here nearly four hours! I'd never have believed it, the time's flown, hasn't it?"

Arthur didn't answer him. He instead strained his ears as much as possible to see if he could hear the voice again, but all he could hear was Lockhart saying that he mustn't expect a treat like this every time he got detention.

Feeling a bit dazed, Arthur left and went as fast as he could to the common room.

It was so late at night that the Gryffindor common room was almost empty. Arthur instantly went up to the dormitory, seeing that David wasn't back yet. Arthur put on his pyjamas and got into bed, waiting for his friend.

Half an hour passed until David arrived, nursing his right arm and had the smell of polish consume the darkened room.

"The muscles in my arm are all seized up." He spat, sitting on his bed. "Filch had me buff up that Quidditch Cup fourteen times before he was even satisfied. Then I ended up throwing up slugs all over a Special Awards for Services to the School for some Riddle. It took so long to shift the slime. Anyway, how was Lockhart?"

Deciding to keep his voice low to avoid waking up Neville, Dean, Seamus and Mike, Arthur told David exactly what he had heard and what he felt.

"He said he couldn't hear it?" David questioned, frowning in the moonlight. "It couldn't have been someone invisible as they'd have to open the door." Arthur then remembered how and what the voice sounded.

"I don't know… it's like the voice was inside my head. And if I felt all that rage, it must be linked with Voldemort." Arthur said as he laid back in his four poster bed, staring at the canopy above him.

If it is indeed linked with Voldemort, then that isn't good.

Face it, those Slytherins, especially Draco deserved something after what he called Chrys.

And both Lockhart and Colin are such annoyances, aren't they?