What is fairness? What is unfairness?
Born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I have always lived in abundance. How could I possibly have the opportunity to feel the injustice of fate or the differences between classes?
In my youth, when I was young and naive, I never reckoned there was anything wrong with such things—my father, Lucius, had always taught me: "Birth determines everything. This society has always been dog-eat-dog. Do not pity others; you cannot pity them all. As pure-blood wizards, the only thing we need to do is maintain our superior status, build barriers, and always remain excellent."
I once completely followed my father's ideas, arrogantly facing everything, believing that I should be the centre of the world and stand at the top of society.
However, gradually, my studies at Hogwarts began to falter.
My youthful arrogance was gradually shattered. After coming into contact with those Muggle-born, and even pure-blood wizards who supported Muggles, I increasingly felt that "birth theory" and "pure-blood theory" were rude, arrogant, and even cruel.
In the wizarding world, the debate about wizarding bloodlines had never ceased.
The invisible boundary had always existed. The Dark Lord's extreme actions had even made this vague boundary clearer.
Watching Hermione's slightly trembling shoulders and listening to her low, suppressed sobs, Draco felt like he could not breathe.
He suddenly remembered Charity Burbage, the Muggle Studies professor who had died in front of him. What had she done wrong?
And then there was poor Hermione. In her past life, at Malfoy Manor, she had been tortured by the Cruciatus Curse, lying on the ground in despair, her wrists etched with the bloody mark of "Mudblood," her eyes filled with tears as she looked at him.
That scene continued to torment his heart, never ceasing.
At that moment, he had felt deep regret and realised that he was a complete coward.
Merlin above, he had been in a state of utter confusion, not knowing what to do, completely panicked. Harry snatched the wand from his hand, and instead of trying his best to chase after or stop him, he hoped that he could escape, take her with him, and survive.
Hermione should not have died there. She should not have been tortured by that madwoman.
She should be a vibrant and cheerful girl, wielding a wand to conjure a flock of beautiful, pecking birds, with a smug smile on her face; she should not be lying on the floor of Malfoy Manor, looking at me with broken eyes.
She should not be crying. She should not be so heartbroken.
In an instant, Draco felt his heart shatter into several pieces. He looked at the crying girl beside him, wanting to comfort her, but hesitated for a long time.
I am one of the vested interests she hates, one of the sources of the injustice she spoke of. Would she hate me? Would she still be willing to talk to me?
But she is crying. I cannot bear to see her cry any more.
He gently placed his hand, which had nowhere else to go, on her back. He tentatively patted her slowly, and said to her in the gentlest voice he could muster, "I am sorry, Hermione. It is my fault, it is all wrong. You are right, it is not fair to a Muggle-born wizard, and it is especially unfair to a wizard as excellent and hardworking as you."
Hermione lifted her tear-stained face, her large brown eyes filled with sorrow.
She looked at Draco, sobbing, and said, "I just felt awful. I do not know why I was angry. It was not directed at you; you have always been so good to me... I should not have shouted at you..."
Thankfully, she does not hate me—
Draco breathed a sigh of relief. He stood up and took a pale grey silk handkerchief from his pocket. He knelt down in front of Hermione, who was curled up in a ball, and gently wiped away her tears, as tenderly as an artist painting his own work.
"It is all right." A hint of guilt flickered in his grey eyes. "You can be angry with me, it was my fault. Earlier today, I should have been more specific to Slughorn about you, so he would not have asked so many stupid questions. Muggle-born or wizard-born, everyone has the right to receive knowledge equally—any knowledge."
He spoke in a gentle tone. Hermione tried hard to stop crying; she did not want to appear weak in front of him. Besides, he looked even sadder than she did, which made her feel even more that she should not have got angry at him.
She looked at him hesitantly, at the boy who was gently wiping away her tears, "Do you really...reckon that way? Do you agree...that we should receive knowledge equally?"
"I must admit, I did not have this concept before. It was your excellence that changed my mind. It would be a loss to the wizarding world if a talented girl like you were misled. I am sorry, I did not see this from your perspective before." The boy said sincerely, a worried look on his delicate oval face.
"It is all right. It is not your fault," Hermione whispered, blinking as tears welled up in her eyes again.
He was nothing like the cold, aloof person he was at school. He was gentle. He seemed to be praising her and trying to understand her, which made her feel wronged, surprised, and incredulous.
"Listen, Hermione. Whilst I admit there is some discrimination against non-wizards in wizarding society, most people value ability. Even in Slytherin, which reveres bloodlines, there are many half-blood wizards who still earn respect through their own abilities, like Professor Snape. Yes, do not be so surprised, he is a half-blood wizard," Draco said calmly, his brow slightly furrowed as he gently wiped her cheek.
Hermione's attention was drawn to this, and she opened her mouth, instantly forgetting her crying.
"Furthermore, Mr Slughorn is not a wizard who believes solely in bloodlines. Nor is he the type to casually instruct a junior based on a few words from an old friend. The reason you are standing here today is entirely because he heard that you could brew Polyjuice Potion in your second year. What he values is absolutely your talent." He smiled slightly at her and carefully dabbed the tears from under her eyes with a handkerchief.
"Speaking of which, how did he know about this? Did you tell him?" Hermione asked in a low voice, sniffing.
"That is right. You should have seen his face when he first heard about it; his eyes practically lit up with envy." He tucked a small strand of hair damp with tears behind her ear and whispered, "Today's test for us was something that should have been taught in sixth year, but you still performed very well and earned his respect. Is that not a reward for your hard work, diligence, and extensive knowledge?"
Hermione was stunned. The boy in front of her was smiling faintly, the fiery clouds on the horizon casting a pinkish hue on his pale face. His eyes were filled with pity, as if she were a fragile piece of oriental porcelain or glass—it simply did not make sense.
She noticed a wisp of pale gold hair falling between his eyebrows, ruining his usually neat and tidy hairstyle; however, he, who always paid attention to his appearance, was completely unaware of it.
This sight reminded Hermione of that Petrified morning when he had also cared for her with such wholehearted devotion and cherished her deeply. She finally stopped the last sob in her throat and slowly revealed an embarrassed smile.
At that moment, she belatedly realised that Draco was holding her face and wiping away her tears, so she quickly took his handkerchief and said, "I... I can wipe them myself."
Draco smirked, released his grip, and pretended to be very interested in a bee that had landed on a flower.
A gentleman should give a lady time and space to recover if she has an occasional lapse in composure.
However, recalling the conversation just now, Draco sighed quietly again.
It was not uncommon in the wizarding world for wizards to hold back some knowledge in order to maintain their status as masters. He grew up in such an environment and never realised the right or wrong of such behaviour, nor its negative consequences.
Take the book Advanced Potion-Making as an example.
Why did Mr Slughorn, retired for many years, still know the Hogwarts Potions syllabus so well? Because the textbook had never changed in decades. The reason Professor Snape's student notes, which he shared with Draco, were so useful was because he used the same textbook during his school years.
This meant that for at least twenty years, not a single word of this book had been changed.
How many students had studied and brewed the recipe for the Draught of Living Death? And how many students, with faith in books and knowledge, had ultimately been disappointed in their potion-making skills?
Have they ever considered that the problem is not a lack of ability on their part, but rather that the book itself contains errors?
Potions geniuses like Professor Snape who proactively corrected the process were probably few and far between; most students diligently followed the textbook. Did these students deserve to be misled?
This was no longer just a matter of hiding one's secrets; it was blatantly misleading young people.
Draco dared not reckon any further.
The wizarding world had stagnated to this day. Due to their innate magical talent, wizards were clearly a uniquely gifted group, who should have created far more brilliant civilisations and magic.
However, the once-glorious ancient wizarding families gradually declined, the development of new potions and the improvement of spells waned, and the wizarding world's development was far slower than that of the Muggle world.
Whilst wizards were complacent and self-satisfied, the Muggle world had already seen the advent of telephones, mobile phones, aeroplanes, rockets, and even nuclear energy... Meanwhile, the Dark Lord was still fantasising about some kind of bloodline cleansing, plunging the wizarding world into a state of turmoil.
The murder of promising wizards who could have made even greater contributions to the wizarding world, coupled with a severe economic downturn and a drastic decrease in the wizarding population, severely hampered the development of the wizarding world, even leading to a regression in its progress.
Add to that these barriers of knowledge and man-made obstacles, what future did the wizarding world have?
Before the Dark Lord rose to power, Muggle-born wizards and pure-blood wizards were moving in a positive direction towards integration, and although the process was slow, there was still hope.
But the appearance of the Dark Lord shattered all of this.
Extreme ideologies replaced moderate schools of thought, tearing the world apart. Plains turned into canyons, and people were forced to stand on opposite sides, hating each other. The wizarding world became a black-and-white, life-or-death hell.
Today, Draco had finally come to fully understand a reality:
The Dark Lord cannot bring prosperity to any family or lead the wizarding world to glory.
The ideas he reiterated, those pure-blood supremacist ideologies, brought not progress, but regression.
He was a stumbling block to the development of the wizarding world, a complete and utter madman.