12. Grey Skies, Green Grass

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Hi! Early update because I turned in my last college assignments and wanted to celebrate :)

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Summary: Luna had a nightmare and summoned Ginny; they slept together in the common room. Anya had a talk with professor McGonagall, where she insisted Anya kept an eye out for Draco and seemed too eager to know whether something odd had happened with him.

*

"For the last time, you simply can't call someone of Muggle descent a Mudblood to their face! You shouldn't even have that word in your vocabulary, but seeing as you do, you can't blurt it out just like that!"

"Why not? It's the truth!"

Anya sighed and scratched her head in disbelief at Draco's words.

"Firstly, it might be true to you, because you look down on them; it's not true for the rest of us, who don't care whether someone comes from an ancient lineage of witches and wizards or if they're the first magical being in their entire family. As you might know, the top student in your year came from Muggle parents and now she's finished her NEWTs in just a few months without having attended a single class," she replied, trying to stay calm as her professor scoffed. "And secondly, it's plain rude! Would you call someone who's disabled a cripple? Actually, please don't answer."

"I wasn't going to. But what's the problem with being truthful? I thought you Ravenclaws valued intelligence, isn't it intelligent of me to use my terms correctly?"

Anya was on the verge of ripping her own hair out from the desperation she was feeling. She had to inhale and exhale a few times before speaking again. "We also value wisdom, and I wouldn't call someone 'wise' if they didn't understand that certain words or expressions can't be used anymore. Look at where caring whether someone is a 'pureblood' or not has got us! We had a war over a man who was so determined to follow his own incoherent ideals that he murdered all the people who didn't fit in his idyllic version of the world."

Anya had to bite her tongue back when she realised what she had just said, since he had been (or still was, Anya hadn't decided on that yet) one of his followers and his whole family thought as Voldemort did when it came to "purebloods"; Draco, however, didn't seem to notice. He was slightly pouting and leant back on his chair, crossing his arms while his eyebrows were furrowed as in deep thinking. He stayed in that same position for a few minutes.

"So...," he spoke and Anya could see the gears turning inside his head, "not everyone calls Mudbl—sorry, witches or wizards from Muggle descent, 'Mudblood'? I've always heard everyone call them that and nobody complained."

"No, Sir, most of us don't use that word. Maybe you've heard it your entire life because the kind of people who surround you are the ones using it, but it is actually really hurtful."

Draco arched an eyebrow and Anya thought he saw the right side of his mouth twitch upwards. "'The kind of people who surround me'? Please enlighten me, who would these people be?"

She hesitated before answering, carefully measuring her words. "Well, you know—"

"I actually don't, my darling Rodríguez, that's why I'm asking."

"Well, you've always surrounded yourself with people from Pureblood families, who think as your parents do, as Voldemort did," she said as she ignored the shudder that went through Draco's body at the mention of that name. "They're all engulfed by this superiority complex that makes them believe they're the only worthy among the wizarding community. Their greed knows no boundaries and they don't care who they have to step on to maintain their status. They're so mesmerized by the idea of power and acknowledgement that anything that threatens to tarnish their reputation must be cast out and neglected. In an environment like that, it's easy to get caught up in all the pompous balls and frigid manners and believe that's all there is to life."

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