From Wiltshire, With Love

Chapter 9

Draco surveyed Granger's dark room in the quiet of the night.

He was floored from her conversation with the Snake Charmer portrait. She knew much more about him than he did of her. And she understood.

How?

Thinking back to when they first met at the Mudblood raid, she had asked him if he wanted to leave. And there at Hogwarts, just a few days ago, she was trying to save some kid that for all intents and purposes could have been him at a younger age. Used to punish his parents or force them into compliance.

Briefly he wondered if she would have tried to get him out last year had she known what was going on. Dumbledore had certainly tried, but it was too late for him by then. Draco had been too naive to understand that he was being used to punish his parents. But he had learned that lesson the hard way, and now saw they were all being used.

Squeezed for everything they were worth.

Granger had certainly put some thought into who he was as a person and the situation he found himself in. He hadn't put any thought into who she was and the situation she was in. He hadn't cared. Draco wasn't supposed to care or be curious, or have any desire to know. Those ideas were traitorous. He'd be punished just for wanting to know the inner workings of filth or to consider the feelings of a person inferior to him.

But what really made him angry, was that all this was forbidden.

And what of Muggles?

Ever since Charity Burbage was eaten alive, he had been wondering why it was accepted that teaching Muggle Studies would merit such a horrific death. If Muggles were indeed filthy, depraved creatures, then what harm would come from learning exactly why they were? He could understand not finding a course useful, but why torture a teacher to death for doing her job?

Draco still had trouble going to sleep, often recalling exposed bones and pieces of torn flesh, and he shuddered at the memory.

It was so extreme, and yet no one wanted to know what it was that generated so severe a punishment. What could possibly be the harm in learning about an inferior people?

He had a sinking feeling that he didn't know at all what Muggles did or how they lived. He didn't know if he had been lied to intentionally, or if it simply wasn't known. Furthermore, he was very curious about the other books that Granger had in her room. Her Muggle astronomy book wasn't like any text he'd ever seen. He couldn't explain its contents.

And that was only one.

Brainwashed.

He recalled Granger's derisive assessment of him. He wasn't brainwashed. But he didn't like the thought that information had been kept from him either, whether it was intentional or not. And a lot of information had indeed been withheld.

The thought that Draco would be punished for asking questions made him resentful.

Defiant.

The Dark Lord was gone again and he thought it a good opportunity to find answers to what he didn't dare ask.

Granger's house was dark, empty, and eerily quiet. He knew no one was living here. Her parents disappeared and were never found. He had witnessed Greyback and Jugson being tortured upon returning from the attempted kidnapping with nothing to show for it.

Draco didn't know much about her. Hadn't ever wanted to. She was Pothead's swotty Mudblood sidekick that spent her days working extra hard to make up for her innate inferiority. She was smart. Obviously. And he was forced to grudgingly admit she wasn't just book smart either. Others hadn't acted with as much foresight as she had, and they were sitting in dungeons dispersed throughout England because of it.