My Slytherin- Draco Malfoy

Chapter 33 (Year 4)

Draco's POV

"Wonder what the tasks are going to be? You know, I bet we could do them. We've done dangerous stuff before..." Ron said, thoughtfully looking at me and Harry.

"Not in front of a panel of judges, you haven't. McGonagall says the champions get awarded points according to how well they've done the tasks." Fred laughed,

"Who are the judges?" Harry asked him.

"Well, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel, because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792 when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage," Hermione answered, we looked at her surprised.

"It's all in Hogwarts, A History. Though, of course, that book's not entirely reliable. A Revised History of Hogwarts would be a more accurate title. Or A Highly Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts, Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School." Hermione huffed,

"What are you on about?" Ron asked her.

"House-elves!" Hermione cried,

"Why did you ask, Ron?" I huffed, pushing my food around my plate. Hermione glared at me.

"Not once, in over a thousand pages, does Hogwarts, A History mention that we are all colluding in the oppression of a hundred slaves!"

"You do realize that your sheets are changed, your fires lit, your classrooms cleaned, and your food cooked by a group of magical creatures who are unpaid and enslaved?"

"Listen, Hermione," I started,

"You know my family are rich purebloods, and well that means we... own- "Hermione gasped, looking at me outraged.

"We own house-elves, and they love working for us. We don't treat them horribly or anything. They like working for us, they enjoy it." I said,

"You can't! How could you! That's enslavement!" She yelled, making some people look at us, confused.

"Hermione! They like it! They are happy with us! I mean we treat them great, no beating them or anything like that." But she still looked outraged.

"But that's wrong! I will never! I mean never go to your house."

"Hermione, I already bought your S.P.E. W badge, haven't I?" I asked, remembering those two sickles I had to spend for those rubbish badges.

"Listen, have you ever been down in the kitchens, Hermione?" George asked, leaning closer to her.

"No, of course not, I hardly think students are supposed to -"

"Well, we have, loads of times, to nick food. And we've met them, and they're happy. They think they've got the best job in the world." George explained,

"That's because they're uneducated and brainwashed," Hermione yelled angrily.

---

"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!" Dumbledore said we had all lined up for the foreign schools to arrive.

"Where?" Many students said, all looking in different directions.

"There!" a sixth-year student yells, pointing over the forest.

"It's a dragon!" someone yelled.

"Don't be stupid...it's a flying house!" Denis Creevey yelled.

But it wasn't. It was a large powder blue carriage that was getting pulled by a giant winged horse that was almost as large as elephants. The first three front rows of students all jumped back as the carriage pulled in. Then a small boy stepped out and fumbled with something before placing some golden steps by the carriage.