To Dean: A Dramione short.
During the summer before his 5th year Dean Thomas is near fatally wounded outside of a record store in muggle England. He is then rushed to St Mungos and goes through lengthy recovery process due to the severe beating that he had endured and the multiple stab wounds that had then followed.
And all due to the color of his skin.
When Dumbledore makes the announcement the evening of the first of September after the first years are sorted many of the Slytherins and purebloods throughout the Great Hall are confused. “Wait a minute!” Pansy Parkinson frowned. “You mean to tell me that some random muggles attacked Thomas simply because he was black?”
Seamus Finnegan, Dean’s best of all friends, shook with rage. But it was Hermione who explained. “In the muggle world people are hated and persecuted for many reasons. Religion. Sexuality. Political affiliation. And even just for being a woman.” She frowned. “But skin color is definitely a big one. There are some people who find those with darker skin to be naturally inferior and deserve to either die or serve under those with white skin.”
Many of the darker skin students in the great hall that grew up in the muggle world nodded knowingly. However those that didn’t seemed like they just couldn’t believe what they were hearing. Draco frowned while he and Theodore Nott glanced at their close friend Blaise Zabini. A young black pureblooded boy who many within Hogwarts thought him to be once of the most beautiful boys in the school. “But people don’t get a choice when it comes to the color of their skin. How…how could muggles hate and kill people for something they have no control over? For being who they are! For who their parents are and were later born to be!”
The Great Hall grew quiet as Hermione made eye contact with Draco for some time before glancing at Blaise and then over to a solemn Seamus. “I don’t know, Malfoy. I really don’t.” Looking back at Draco she smiled sadly. “How can you purebloods judge US for being muggleborn and halfblooded? For being something that we have no control over? For being who we are and for who are parents are? How can you hate us…for something we have no control over?”
A hush fell upon the Great Hall as most muggleborns and halfbloods gaped in awe. This was exactly how it felt. And this fifth year Gryffindor had hit it on the head. Her housemates felt proud while the professors up on the staff dais stared at her in awe, except for a lone figure clad in pink who dare not speak of.
The Slytherins, however, sat in shock. Not knowing what to say. Hermione’s words had stuck a chord and they were still trying to process it. If what was said was true people like Blaise would be persecuted and killed. And all for what? The color of his skin? But he couldn’t control that! Was that…how it felt to be a muggleborn?
Draco glanced up at Hermone and after a few seconds nodded slowly. He understood. Or at least…he was starting. The other Slytherins around them wore a similar expression of confusion morphing into a slow understanding.
Hermione smiled back and raised her goblet filled with pumpkin juice. “To Dean. May he recover fully and return to us as swiftly as possible.”
The Gryffindors raised theirs. “To Dean.”
The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs followed. “To Dean.”
The professors. “To Dean.”
And then…the Slytherins. It started with Blaise, the handsome dark adonis of green and silver. Then lead with Theodore, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy. Soon the rest of the house raised their goblets as Draco followed suit and, staring into Hermione’s eyes, simply said. “To Thomas.”
It was a start.
It’s 1am and I’m seeing double so forgive me for any grammatical errors that might have escaped me.
Just a little something that I had in my head and needed to get out.
Hope you like it. Let me know what you think.