The Hogwarts library was dimly lit, the high vaulted ceiling made the flicker of the candles seem distant and ethereal. Pansy sat in a corner, books spread out before her, eyes skimming over the words on the page in front of her but not truly taking anything in. Emily's letter lay open on her desk, her eyes continuously drifting towards her friends words.
After a while, she sighed, closing her bookes and gathering her belongings. She carefully refolded the letter and tucked it into her robe pocket before leaving the library, her mind teeming with indecision.
She decided to head back to the common room as curfew drew closer. Walking down the long, dimly lit corridors, she found herself absorbed in her thoughts, the distant echo of footsteps the only sound breaking the silence.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the echoing footsteps getting louder. Turning around a corner, she collided with a figure, the impact knocking them both to the ground. Just as she was about to voice her anger, she froze when she saw the terrified, tear-streaked face of the little redhead. She was a mess. Her red hair was unevenly chopped off, her blue eyes red and puffy from crying, fresh tears streaming down her face. Before Pansy could say anything, the girl scrambled to her feet and darted off, her sobs echoing off the stone walls.
Reacting almost instinctively, Pansy leapt to her feet and went after the girl. She followed the sound of sobbing until she found herself in front of an old, unused classroom. Pushing the door open gently, she found the girl huddled in a corner, her small frame shaking with each sob.
When the girl spotted Pansy, she panicked "No, please, I… I didn't mean… Please, don't hurt me," she sobbed, curling tighter into herself.
The sight of the girl, so frightened and vulnerable, made the decision she had to make easy.
She quickly closed the gap between them, the girl's pleas and apologies growing more frantic. Pansy dropped to her knees in front of the girl, pulling her into a tight embrace.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Pansy whispered, her hand running soothingly over the girl's back. "You have nothing to apologize for."
The girl froze, her breath hitching, then she broke down, her cries becoming louder, clinging to Pansy as if she was her lifeline, her sobs wracking her small body. Pansy whispered soothing words into her hair, rocking her gently as she cried,
After a while, the girl's sobs faded and her body went limp, the exhaustion of the evening catching up with her.
Shifting carefully, Pansy winced at the pain in her knees from kneeling on the hard floor. She gently manoeuvred the girl into her lap, her head resting on Pansy's shoulder.
Pulling out her wand, with a quick incantation, she cast a cushioning charm on the floor and the wall behind her.
As she leaned back against the soft wall, looking down at the sleeping girl in her lap, Pansy knew she had made the right choice. She would help this girl, as best as she could. It would be a risk, she knew, but looking at the peaceful face of the sleeping girl, Pansy couldn't help but feel it was worth it.
The next few hours passed in a comfortable silence, as Pansy sat in the dim classroom with the muggleborn girl nestled against her. Pansy found a strange comfort in the silence, her fingers idly running through the girl's tousled hair.
When the girl finally stirred, she stiffened for a brief moment, but when Pansy continued softly stroking her hair, she relaxed, melting back into Pansy's comforting hold, her small fingers clutching the front of her robe. Pansy felt a small smile forming on her lips as she scratched the girl's scalp, eliciting a little wiggle of contentment.
"Did you have a nice nap?" Pansy asked, her voice low and soothing.
The girl merely nodded, burrowing further into the crook of Pansy's neck. The silence stretched on for a while before the girl spoke, her voice wobbly, "Why does everyone hate me?"
"That's… a complex question with a long answer," Pansy replied, hesitation evident in her voice.
"I want to know," the girl insisted.
Pansy sighed, "What do you know about blood purity?"
"Blood purity?" The girl echoed, her voice muffled by Pansy's robe.
Pansy nodded, a knot of unease forming in her stomach. She knew her explanation wouldn't be comforting, but the girl deserved to know. Collecting her thoughts she began explaining. "In the wizarding world, there are distinctions made based on one's blood status: muggleborn, half-blood, and pure-blood. Pure-blood witches and wizards come from families where there's been no known muggles in their ancestry for at least ten generations. They are the minority, but historically they have held much of the power and wealth within our society."
Pansy took a deep breath before continuing,
"Some pure-blood families, not all mind you, but some – and particularly those in Slytherin – have very strict beliefs about who is 'worthy' of wielding magic. They view magic as a noble, sacred thing, and they believe that only those of 'pure blood' have the right to it. They see themselves as the true heirs of magic, and everyone else as… inferior."
Pansy paused, glancing at the girl who was listening intently, a serious look on her face.
"Muggleborns, or 'mudbloods' as some would call them, are seen as the lowest of the low in these pure-blood circles. They are witches and wizards born to non-magical parents. Pure-bloods often argue that muggleborns 'stole' their magic, or that they got it by some fluke. They don't believe that muggleborns have the right to magic, and therefore, they look down upon them."
Pansy felt the girl shift slightly against her, seeking comfort from the sound of her voice more than the words themselves. "But the prejudice doesn't stop at muggleborns," Pansy continued. "Half-bloods, those with one magical parent and one non-magical parent, are also seen as less than pure-bloods. Though half-bloods are usually accepted more easily, some pure-bloods still look down on them for their 'tainted' blood."
"It's not just humans who are treated this way either" she added. "Many pure-bloods also look down on magical creatures like goblins, house-elves, and veela. They are seen as lesser beings, not worthy of respect or rights. This feeling of superiority extends to almost all non-pure-blood beings."
She sighed, feeling the weight of all the prejudices she'd been taught and was now trying to unlearn. "These beliefs have been ingrained in pure-blood culture for so long that they're hard to shake off. But remember, not all pure-bloods believe in these things. There are many who reject these prejudices and fight against them."
Pansy looked back at the girl, her eyes serious. "In the end, the magic doesn't care whether you're a pure-blood, a half-blood, or a muggleborn. It doesn't discriminate. It flows in you just as it does in any other wizard or witch. Your worth is not determined by your blood status, but by who you are, by your actions, your kindness, your courage."
After she had finished, the girl stayed quiet for a while before asking, "Is that why you're nice to me? Because you're a muggleborn too?"
Pansy hesitated, then admitted, "No, I'm a pure-blood."
There was another long silence, then the girl murmured, "You're kinder than the other pure-bloods, then."
Pansy wilted slightly at this. "That's kind of you to say," she said, "But I'm not so sure you should think so highly of me."
The girl's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why?"
Once again, Pansy hesitated. This was a conversation she never thought she'd have, much less with a muggleborn. But it felt necessary, for the girl's understanding. "If you had been here a year ago, I would have been first in line to torment you," she confessed.
"Oh" The girl was silent for a moment, processing Pansy's confession. Then, she asked, "What changed?"
"I… I met someone," Pansy began, her voice soft and fond. "Her name is Emily. She… she's not a witch, she's a muggle. She doesn't have any magical abilities, but she's one of the kindest, most wonderful people I've ever known."
The girl lifted her head slightly to look at Pansy, her eyes shining in the dim light,. "A muggle? But I thought pure-bloods didn't…"
Pansy gave a soft sigh, "It all started as a bit of a rebellious stunt. I was upset with my parents and decided to venture into the muggle world. An act of defiance, if you will. While there, I found myself in a bookstore, which is where I met Emily."
Pansy smiled at the memory. "Emily was working there. And, if I'm being honest, I was quite rude to her at first."
The girl's brow furrowed, "Why were you rude?"
"I suppose it was a combination of things. My upbringing, the frustrations I had with my parents, the unfamiliarity of the muggle world. But mostly, it was because I was still holding onto my old beliefs about blood purity."
Pansy took a deep breath before continuing, "I was wrong for treating her that way. So, I went back. I went back to the bookstore to apologize to her."
"And she forgave you?" the girl asked, a hint of hope in her voice.
"She did," Pansy confirmed, a fond smile spreading across her face. "Emily is… she's incredibly kind and forgiving. She didn't know anything about our world, about magic, about blood purity, and yet she treated me with kindness and respect. We became friends, and through her, I began to see things differently."
"Differently?" the girl repeated, her voice tremulous, but her eyes bright with curiosity.
Pansy took a deep breath, looking straight into the girl's eyes. "Emily taught me a lot about her world, but she also taught me about mine. She helped me realize that the world isn't divided into good people and evil people, or muggles and wizards, or pure-bloods and muggle-borns. People are a lot more complicated than that."
She paused, weighing her next words carefully. "I grew up believing that blood purity was everything. That being a pure-blood made me superior. But Emily, without even knowing it, showed me how wrong that belief was. It's not about what blood runs through our veins. It's about what we do, who we choose to be."
The girl stared at her, wide-eyed and silent, before whispering, "And you chose to be… different?"
Pansy offered her a small smile, cupping her cheek gently. "I chose not to be the type of person who would torment a sweet little girl for the crime of merely existing."
At her words, the girl's eyes teared up again, a few droplets slipping down her cheeks before she quickly buried her face into Pansy's neck, her small body shaking slightly. Pansy could feel the warmth of her tears seeping through the fabric of her robe, but she said nothing, instead wrapping her arms tighter around the girl.
She let her fingers run through the girl's hair, tracing the lines where the cut had been uneven, the coarse texture a reminder of the cruelty she'd endured. The silence in the room was only broken by soft breaths and occasional sniffles. Pansy held her close, her actions speaking louder than any words ever could, promising the little girl that she was not alone, not anymore.
Eventually, the girl broke the silence with a small, hesitant voice. "Is there a way I can make them like me?"
Pansy let out a long, drawn-out sigh, her heart aching at the innocent question. She thought about softening her response, but decided against it. The girl deserved honesty. "Do you want the answer you'd probably like to hear or the truth?"
"The truth," the girl responded without hesitation.
Pansy sighed, choosing her words carefully. "I don't think there's anything you can do to make them like you," She could see the hurt in the girl's eyes, but she continued. "But there's something you can do to make them leave you alone."
Hope flickered in her eyes. "What?" she asked, leaning back to look at Pansy eagerly.
"You become better than them. So much better that they can't touch you anymore," Pansy said firmly. She didn't sugarcoat the reality, the statement carrying unspoken implications.
She was asking a lot from a young girl who barely knew anything about magic. "The people who are bullying you, they've grown up in magical households. They've known about magic, about the wizarding world, for as long as they can remember. They had the privilege of growing up with stories about magic, getting accustomed to the idea long before they set foot in Hogwarts."
The girl listened, her eyes wide and attentive, a stark contrast to her tear-streaked face.
"But you, you're starting from scratch. You didn't grow up hearing about the Boy Who Lived or the four founders of Hogwarts. You didn't grow up playing with toy wands and casting pretend spells. You came here knowing nothing about this world and that's okay. That's not your fault."
Pansy gently cupped the girls face in her hands. "You're not at a disadvantage, you're just on a different starting line. And there's nothing wrong with that. But because of this, you're going to have to work twice, maybe even thrice, as hard to get to where they are."
The girl was silent, mulling over Pansy's words, her little brow furrowed in thought. Pansy gave her a small, reassuring smile. "It's going to be a lot of work. A lot of late nights and extra hours of studying. You'll have to learn not just the how, but the why. Not just the spells, but the theory behind them. You have to understand magic, not just use it."
Pansy could see the trepidation in the girl's eyes, but also a spark of determination. "It's going to be exhausting. You'll want to quit, you'll get frustrated. But if you persevere… if you really push yourself… you can get there."
"And you know what," Pansy added, reaching out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind the girl's ear, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper as she leaned closer, "even with all their knowledge and familiarity, you would have something none of them have."
Grace's eyes were wide. "What's that?"
"A fifth-year to teach you all she knows," Pansy said, her voice firm and brimming with a resolution that surprised even herself.
"In a sense, you would have your own private tutor," she continued, a slight hint of warmth creeping into her tone. "The lessons wouldn't be formal, structured like those you have in class. I'd be able to work with you directly, one-on-one, to fill the gaps in your knowledge. I'd be there to answer questions you might be too shy to ask in class, to explain concepts in a way that might make more sense to you, to help you with the finer details that textbooks and lectures sometimes skip over."
She let a small smile play on her lips, "I may not have the vast knowledge of a professor, I'm still a student myself after all, but I've been studying magic for five years now. I've seen the practical application of spells, I've made my share of mistakes and learned from them. I've picked up tricks and techniques that aren't written in books.
Pansy allowed her words to sink in before adding, "And while I can't guarantee I'll have all the answers, I can assure you that I'll do my best to help you find them.
She paused once more, her gaze softening as she looked at the redhead, "You'd have a mentor, a guide to help you navigate this world that's so new to you. I might not be a professor, but I can give you a head start that could make all the difference."
Pansy paused briefly before ducking her head they were and eye level "I believe in you," she said softly. "You can do this." The silence that fell between them was a comfortable one, filled with understanding and resolve.
The silence stretched out between them, the girl seemingly deep in thought. Pansy continued to stroke her hair, waiting for her to process everything.
After what felt like an eternity, she spoke up. "Then I'll just have to prove the people who say I don't deserve magic wrong."
Her voice was filled with determination, making Pansy smile. "I guess you do, and I'll be there, helping you every step of the way,"
The girl looked into Pansy's eyes. A beat passed, and then she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Pansy in the tightest hug yet, as if to convey her gratitude and determination all at once. Pansy returned the embrace, silently promising to do everything she could to help the girl prove her worth in the magical world.
There was a long silence after that, broken only by the soft breathing of the two girls. The small girl burrowed herself deeper into Pansy's neck, prompting another smile.
"Now that we've got all the heavy stuff out of the way," Pansy started, her tone light, "I think it's about time you told me your name."
The small giggle that vibrated against Pansy was heart-warming. "Grace" she mumbled.
"Grace," Pansy echoed, "That's a pretty name." Grace smiled against her neck.
Grace's smile could be felt against Pansy's neck, warm and sweet. "So, Grace," Pansy said after a moment, "care to tell me what happened to that lovely red hair of yours?"
The girl stiffened in Pansy's hold for a moment before relaxing again. "Some boys… they held me down," she admitted in a small voice.
"Did you recognize them?" Pansy asked, her tone hardened slightly.
Grace shook her head against her shoulder, "They were Gryffindor's," she said, her voice small. There was a pause before Grace added in a sad whisper, "I really liked my hair."
Pansy hugged Grace tighter, offering silent support. "I promise you, Grace," Pansy murmured into her hair, "I'll help you deal with this. You're not alone anymore."
The two girls sat in comfortable silence for some time. Pansy shifted to pull out her wand. Grace watched with curious eyes as Pansy pointed her wand to the air, "Tempus."
The conjured numbers floating in the air made both their eyes widen in surprise. "It's a little past four A.M," Pansy remarked, tucking her wand back into her robes. "We should probably head to bed," Pansy suggested, her voice softer now. There was a pause before Grace nodded her agreement.
Before they left the classroom, Pansy turned to Grace. "Grace, we have to keep this quiet," she cautioned. "We can't let anyone know about our meetings."
Grace's eyes widened at that, her brows knitting together in confusion. "But I thought…" She began, her voice carrying a note of hurt and disappointment. "Okay," she mumbled, looking down at her feet.
Pansy stopped that line of though immediately, reaching out to gently cup her face. "No, no. Not like that, Grace. Listen to me," she said, meeting the young girl's eyes, "It's not that I'm ashamed to be seen with you, Grace," she said earnestly. "I couldn't care less about you being muggleborn. But my parents… they'd be furious if they found out I was helping you, let alone talking to you. I could be severely punished, maybe even disowned."
Pansy pulled Grace into a soft hug, her words hanging heavy in the air. "If it wasn't for the consequences, I would have no problem being seen with you."
Grace's arms wound around Pansy's waist as she hugged her back, understanding dawning in her eyes. They stood there in silence for a moment before breaking apart.
"We'll meet here at 7:00 tomorrow evening, alright?" Pansy suggested
Grace nodded, a determined look on her face. Pansy pushed the classroom door open a crack and peeked out into the corridor. Seeing no one, she motioned for Grace to follow her. They made their way to the Slytherin common room as quietly as they could, the stillness of the castle surrounding them.
Once inside, Pansy turned to Grace. "Try to get as much sleep as you can," she advised. "Tomorrow is going to be tough."
Grace nodded, reaching out to hug Pansy briefly before darting off towards the dorms. Pansy watched her go, a small smile on her face. Then she trudged up to her own room, nearly collapsing into her bed. As she drifted off to sleep, she could only think about how she would have to wake up again in less than five hours. And with that thought, she was out like a flame.