Year Two: The Secret of Slytherin

Part 7

Anne spent the next few days dodging out of sight whenever she saw Lockhart coming down a corridor. She thought he was nothing but a big silly buffoon who thought he was so wonderful and wanted to be admired when he was really a complete coward.

Now that she was a second year, she decided to try out for the Slytherin Quidditch team. To her delight, she managed to secure a spot on the team along with another candidate---Draco Malfoy.

The captain of the team Marcus Flint decided the third weekend of the month would be perfect to train their new team members, once given permission by Snape.

As the team came out on to the Quidditch field, they were greeted by the Gryffindor team who were not the least bit thrilled to see them.

"Clear out, Flint! I booked the field for Gryffindor today!" the captain of the Gryffindor team Oliver Wood persisted.

"Easy, Wood! I've got a note," said Flint showing him the parchment.

I, Professor Severus Snape, do hereby give the Slytherin team permission to practice today, owing to the need to train their new Keeper and Seeker.

"You got a new Keeper and Seeker? Who?" asked Wood.

Anne and Draco stepped forward. "Anne? Malfoy?" said Harry surprised.

Draco smirked. "That's right, Potter. And that's not all that's new this year."

"Those are Nimbus Two Thousand Ones!" Ron gasped when he saw the broomsticks each Slytherin teammate carried with them.

"A generous gift from Draco's father," said Flint.

Anne rolled her eyes and looked at Harry, Ron, and Hermione as if to say 'I am not in favor of this. Personally, I think it's stupid!'

Draco didn't notice her expression. He was too busy gloating. "That's right, Weasley. You see, unlike some, my father can afford the best."

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in by pure talent," said Hermione proudly.

"That's right!" Anne agreed. "So why don't you just shut up about how great your father is, Draco! He's nothing but a swine!"

Draco whirled around at Anne. "No one asked your opinion, Borden! I won't have you criticize my father!" He next whirled on Hermione. "Or you, you filthy little Mudblood!"

"You're such a git, Draco!" Anne yelled smacking him hard.

"You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" Ron yelled, drawing out his wand. "Eat slugs!"

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.

"Ron! Are you okay? Say something!" Hermione cried rushing over to him.

Ron opened his mouth to speak only to retch. A trio of slugs dribbled out of his mouth.

The Slytherins were paralyzed with laughter except Anne who made a face as she tried to help Ron up.

"Let's take him to Hagrid's," said Harry to Anne and Hermione. "He'll know what to do."

Hagrid pitched a bucket between Ron's knees. "This call for a specialist's equipment. Nothin' to do but wait'll it stops, I'm afraid. Who was Ron tryin' to curse anyway?"

"Malfoy. He called Hermione a horrible name," replied Anne, her voice tight and strained.

"He called me a Mudblood," Hermione choked.

"He didn't!" gasped Hagrid.

"What's a Mudblood?" asked Harry obviously confused.

"It means 'dirty blood'. Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who is Muggleborn. Someone with non-magic parents. Someone like me. It's not a term one usually hears in civilized conversation," Hermione explained.

"Yeh see, Harry. There are some wizards, like the Malfoy family, who think they're better'n everyone else because they're what people call 'pureblood'," Hagrid pointed out.

Anne could relate to what Hagrid was saying. Andromeda had come from a pureblood family who had the same ideas and opinions as the Malfoys. Then when she had fallen for Ted Tonks, who, like Hermione, was a Muggleborn, and married him, her family disowned her, cutting her off for good.

Ron threw up a few more slugs before uttering, "It's disgusting!"

"And it's codswallop to boot!" agreed Hagrid. He them turned to a despondent Hermione. "Why, there isn't a wizard alive today that's not half-blood or less. More ter the point, they've yet to think of a spell that our Hermione can do. Come here....don't you think on it, Hermione. Don't you think on it for one minute."