Title: Prejudice
Author: jetamors
Rating: PG-13, for pain.
Summary and notes: Written for the Gen Ficathon Challenge, my summary was from dmp: Lucius and Narcissa's reaction to an 8 year-old Draco coming home after getting beat-up by the neighborhood bullies. (Condition: From Draco's POV). It's about 2.4K words.

Thanks a bunch to my beta, Tofty!

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It was a warm summer afternoon. Mum was having Sunday tea with a few of her friends, and Dad was out somewhere. The house-elves were mostly snoozing in the pantry. So Draco Malfoy decided that it was a good time to see what lay beyond the gates of his family's property.

He ran down the neat gravel path to the high hedge that marked the edge of his world. After a furtive glance back toward the manor, he burrowed under it. It took quite an effort to get to the other side. By the time he got through, his robes were stained and dirty, and he had scratches on his arms and shoulders.

Draco stood up and looked around. In front of him was a paved road that ran from left to right. It curved away from him in both directions and was soon hidden by the shady trees that lined it. After a moment's hesitation, Draco decided to go right.

He had not walked very far at all when the road straightened out. In the distance, he could see small black dots. They quickly grew larger and resolved into a pack of children mounted on strange metal contraptions with wheels. Draco's heart rose in his throat. Could these be Muggles?

He tried to recall what his tutor had said about them. She had only mentioned them once, when Draco had asked if there were any people who couldn't do magic. After glancing at the doorway, she seemed to come to some decision.

"Yes, there are people who are unable to do magic. We call them Muggles. No better than animals, really. They can be rather jealous of wizard superiority, and seek to match us in everything. But of course they can't even come close, the stupid creatures. Now put it out of your mind, and let's try some more subtraction." And Draco had barely given Muggles another thought since.

The children caught sight of Draco and quickened their pace. Draco stood still and let them approach, wondering what they would do. Being so inferior to wizards, it seemed likely that they would act like human house-elves. Perhaps they would do his bidding. Draco could make them bring him sweets, and they could hit people who annoyed him.

By the time the group reached him, Draco had convinced himself that he would soon be the leader of a mighty Muggle army. When they stopped their mounts a few paces away, he was prepared. He cleared his throat and addressed them in his best imitation of Dad's command voice.

"I say, Muggles, show me something interesting."

Silence met him all around. The two children who seemed to be leading the pack exchanged glances. He guessed they were around 11 or 12 years old, Hogwarts aged. Finally the one in the red overalls spoke.

"What did you call us?"

"Well, you're Muggles, aren't you? I mean, obviously you're not wizard stock. Who in their right minds would crawl along on the ground when there are broomsticks? Anyway, why aren't you doing as I say? You'd best listen to me. I am a wizard, after all."

The other leader, a boy with red hair and a mole on his chin, gave him a murderous glare. "Listen, you little Brutie, you'd better watch yourself. We don't want you crazies wandering around the countryside, so why don't you get back to the asylum where you belong?"

A girl's voice piped up. "Yeah, I bet he's just a Brutie. How'd you get out, you little freak?"

Draco wasn't sure what a Brutie was, but it didn't seem to be anything good. The situation was rapidly spiraling out of his control. He decided it was time to really take charge and show these Muggles who was boss.

"How dare you! My father is Lucius Malfoy, and if you're not careful he'll show you the proper way to speak to those superior to you."

"Ooh," a girl squealed. "Lucious Dumb-toy is gonna get us." Some of the others laughed. Mole-boy was not laughing, though his teeth were bared. He and a few others dismounted and advanced toward Draco.

"Think you're my superior, do you, Brutie?"

"I'm not the one who has a big black spot on my face, Muggle," Draco retorted.

"You'll learn not to talk to me like that, you little freak." Unexpectedly, he lunged toward Draco. Draco stumbled backward automatically and bumped into two other big boys who grabbed his arms and held them tightly. "Where's your father now, you freak?" someone shouted gleefully.

The next few moments were very confused. The other children seemed to have dismounted also, and they surrounded Draco in a tight, jeering circle. They were all pointing and yelling, and some seemed to be laughing at him. Blows seemed to come from several different directions at once, most glancing off his sides. The boys let go of his arms unexpectedly, and he fell face-first onto the pavement. He looked up just in time for a hiking boot to make contact with his jaw. The world exploded with pain.

Draco abruptly found himself standing a few yards outside the circle. He felt - well, he felt as if he had been kicked in the face. While he tried to orient himself without passing out, someone spotted him and yelled.

"There he is!" The pack scrambled for their bikes, and Draco took off running for the gates and safety. He knew he hadn't walked very far before he met the Muggles. But he had no idea whether he could outrun their wheeled mounts, and he found himself calling on every bit of magic in his blood to get him to the gates in time.

He almost made it. Draco was only feet away from the gates when a hand tore at his shoulder. He pulled himself free with a Herculean effort and stumbled forward, losing his balance. The ground rushed up at him. There was a loud crack somewhere, but he barely registered it. The only thought going through his mind was that he was done for.

And then suddenly, miraculously, instead of falling into the road Draco found himself wrapped in the arms of his very surprised father. He would be saved from the Muggles after all! He spared a glance backward to see how they would react to Dad.

The children stopped as quickly as they could when they saw a strange man appear out of nowhere only to be clutched by his son. Draco was glad to see that a few of them had fallen off their mounts. They were all staring at him and Dad, open-mouthed.

Mole-boy was the first to recover. "It's the freak's freak father!" he said disgustedly, and for the first time Draco was glad to be insulted. He knew that now they were going to get it.

Dad stiffened. He pulled out his wand with a flourish. The foot-long stick of ebony was reassuringly familiar to Draco. He had watched his father conjure with it a thousand times, and on a few treasured occasions Draco himself had been allowed to hold it and attempt to coax sparks from its tip.

Now his father spat, "Expellimarus", and Mole-boy was blasted high in the air. When he landed, his head hit the pavement with an audible crack, and he did not get up again.

Draco's father then proceeded to herd all of the other children together by threatening them with his wand. He aimed for the center of the group and said, "Obliviate. From now on you will remember the name Malfoy with fear and respect. Your friend was struck by an automobile."

The children's eyes glazed over, and Father pivoted on his heel and strode through the gates, pushing Draco ahead of him.

As his adrenalin rush ebbed, Draco started noticing how much pain he was in. He was still huffing and puffing from his mad dash to safety, and his father wouldn't let him stop to catch his breath. Draco didn't think it would help to stop anyway; every time he breathed in, the bruises sent pain all up and down his sides. He would have said it was the worst pain he had ever felt, but his face easily took that prize. He felt as if his jaw was going to fall off.

Dad was talking, and he sounded angry, but Draco could barely focus on what he was saying. He tried to tell him about what they had done to him, but he couldn't seem to do anything but whimper. He tried whimpering louder.

His father finally heard him and looked down. The next thing Draco knew, Dad was kneeling before him, studying his bruises with a horrified expression. When he reached out and touched Draco's face, everything seemed to go black for a moment.

When Draco recovered, his dad looked even angrier than he had when the Ministry men had come last year. He pulled out his wand and touched it to Draco's jaw. "Obtorpesco." The pain eased a little, and Draco no longer felt as if he was going to pass out. He didn't quite feel up to talking yet, so he gave his father his best attempt at a smile. Abruptly, his guts heaved and he threw up all over his father's robes.

Embarrassed, he wiped his mouth, wincing as he drew his arm up. The last time he had spilled something on his father's robes, he hadn't been allowed to fly for an entire week!

But his father only murmered "Evanesco." The stain disappeared, though the stench didn't. "Come along, Draco," he said. "We'd better show this to your Mum. Filthy Muggle animals."

As soon as they got into the house, Dad bellowed, "NARCISSA!" Draco had asked his tutor once how his parents could hear each other no matter where they were in the manor. After a moment's thought, his tutor suggested that the manor might have a charm so that the owners could hear their names spoken no matter where they were in the house. Draco would have bet that the Muggles didn't have anything like that.

After a few minutes, Mum appeared. She entered with her customary lazy grace, but when she caught sight of Draco she gave a little cry and rushed to his side. She looked up at Dad.

"What happened, Lucius?"

"A gang of Muggle children. He got outside the gates somehow, and they pounced on him. If I hadn't Apparated in at just that instant, he would have been in even worse shape."

His mum's face contorted with anger when Dad mentioned that they were Muggles. She hugged Draco so tightly that he yelped in pain, then released him just as quickly.

"Oh, my darling, darling boy. Where did they hurt you?"

Draco tried to tell her, but he still couldn't seem to speak. He pointed to his jaw, then his sides. His father answered for him in words.

"One of the little demons kicked his jaw in. I did a Numbing Charm, but I think it's broken. Do you think you can handle it, Narcissa, or should we call the medi-wizard?"

"How can you even ask that, Lucius? Our son deserves the best care that money can buy." Dad looked a bit ashamed at that. Mum redirected her attention to Draco.

"Don't worry, dear. The medi-wizard will be here soon, and you'll be talking and flying before you know it. And those Muggle animals will never bother you again. You did take care of them, didn't you, Lucius?"

"Of couse, darling. I mean, I couldn't dispose of them as I would have liked. The Ministry would have noticed, and that's the last thing we need right now. But I did give one of them a very nasty accident, and the rest will steer well clear of Malfoys from now on."

Mum smiled, satisfied. "Well, you may not be able to eat real food even after the medi-wizard comes, sweetie. So how does bread pudding sound for dinner?" Draco grinned as best he could and nodded eagerly.

Hours later, Draco was being tucked into bed by both Dad and Mum. The medi-wizard had come and gone, and Draco's jaw would be good as new in two days. His sides had already stopped hurting.

Usually his house-elf would tuck him in, but Dad had set her to ironing her hands for allowing Draco to be harmed. Now Dad ruffled his hair and Mum pulled the sheets up to his shoulders. His father fixed him with a grave look.

"I had hoped," Dad began, "that you would find out about Muggles some other way, son, but perhaps this was for the best. Now you've had a little bit of what they would do to each and every one of us if they could."

"They're no danger to trained wizards, of course," his mother chimed in. "But if they ever caught one of us defenseless, as they caught you today, why you can see what they're capable of. They're animals. Worse than animals. At least an animal won't bite unless it's provoked."

"Long ago, before we broke away from them, the Muggles used to beguile weaker wizards and witches. They would catch us sleeping, tie us up, and try to roast us on the fire like pigs." Draco shivered involuntarily.

"But that was very long ago, even before the Flame Freezing Charm was invented," Mum interjected hastily. "And even then, we fought back just as your father did today. One of your ancestors, Orion Black, made it his life's mission to hunt down and exterminate those responsible for wizard deaths. He avenged the deaths of 87 witches and wizards, and rid the world of 482 murderous Muggles."

"We don't want to scare you, son," Dad said. "The Muggles aren't hard to deal with if you know how to handle them, and we've come a long way in seven hundred years. But we want you to know that what happened to you was not your fault, and your mother and I will always protect you. Good night, Draco." He kissed Draco's cheek.

"Good night, my little dragon." Mum brushed her lips against his forehead. They dimmed the lanterns and left the room, lingering in the doorway.

But they were not needed that night. As Draco drifted off to sleep, he was fighting Muggles alongside Orion Black. And he knew that the next time he met them, he would be prepared.

Fin



(A Brutie is, naturally, an inmate of St. Brutus' Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. Despite the name, it mostly caters to people like the Dursley's with embarassing young wards.)