The term "Mudblood" is a highly insulting term used by some Pure-blood Wizard adhere to the theory of bloodline to refer to Muggle-born wizard.
The reason why Old Malfoy joined the Death Eaters was entirely because of that unnamed person, who was a staunch supporter of bloodline theory.
Snape, having prepared the healing potion, turned around.
"Harry Potter cannot become the third Dark Lord."
His movements as he applied the medicine were somewhat rough. "Even if he and that person are both Half-blood, it will never be possible."
Draco felt pain he had never felt before.
It's like someone pricking a boil with a needle and then violently slapping the wound repeatedly.
Intentional? How could that be?
Old Malfoy and his headmaster were close friends when they were in school, and they even became Death Eaters together after graduation.
With this relationship in place, the most that's possible is simply a difference in beliefs.
It's probably because this kind of medicine for treating boils is supposed to have this kind of side effect.
That damn murderer!
"Professor, could you be a little gentler?"
Snape's eyes were unusually cold. "I have never treated anyone before."
Draco gritted his teeth and endured the whole ordeal.
Although we have different ideas
His attitude towards himself isn't very good either.
But at least he's a powerful backer.
"Go out."
"Oh."
As Draco walked away dejectedly, Snape's gaze suddenly turned extremely disgusted.
This is a disgust that comes from the very core of one's being, a hatred that is both complex and irrational.
Vincent spent the entire morning Herbology under Hermione's watchful gaze, as if she were looking at a criminal.
Even though he earned 3 points for Gryffindor, he was never happy.
She definitely didn't see me last night.
What exactly does that look mean?
His extreme anxiety vanished the moment he arrived at the Great Hall.
The pungent perfume smell was gone, and there were still a few red spots on the victim's fair and tender face.
"Ah, that feels so good~"
The first-grade Little Lions were all a little confused.
Why respond to Draco's angry and resentful gaze with such gloating?
"Isn't it a good thing that we don't have to wear gas masks in the afternoon?"
So that's how it is.
Only Hermione remained skeptical.
Last night's stakeout failed, but today one person was all smiles, while the other had a face full of red marks.
This is definitely some kind of insidious fighting technique, or the result of some kind of evil curse!
She regretted falling asleep, and even more so, she regretted not being able to push open the door to the boys' dormitory.
Two o'clock in the afternoon, in the Charms class classroom on the fourth floor.
Vincent, sitting in the first row, and Draco, sitting in the first row near the door, could both sense each other's negative emotions across the aisle.
Professor Flitwick Filius Frivi, standing on a stack of books, peeked half of his small body out from the podium.
"Don't assume that spells are simpler than Transfiguration and therefore very easy to understand."
He gracefully waved his wand at the pear in front of him, causing it to grow two legs and take small steps to the edge of the podium.
Those dangling little feet were exactly the same as the pear's skin.
The combination of the Nonverbal spells and the Transfiguration left all the students in the classroom in awe.
Vincent, engrossed in taking notes, suddenly had many applications of spells pop into his mind.
For example, you could levitate a person and then gently pat their face while they are upside down.
It is not very harmful, but it is extremely insulting.
That mischievous smile was seen by Draco, and also by Hermione felt uneasy.
"Before learning the first spell, please turn to the first page of your textbooks and carefully read the theoretical knowledge about magic."
Professor Flitwick carefully put away his wand and began to explain, word by word.
The floating chalk that was still writing automatically made many slow-handed Little Lions fall in love with this short professor of Charms.
Especially Ron and Harry.
Halfway through the class, Draco, who was on the other side of the aisle, suddenly narrowed his eyes.
The professor was looking down at his textbook, while the students were engrossed in taking notes.
How could we possibly waste such a golden opportunity?
"Professor!" Vincent suddenly raised his hand.
"Please speak."
"If magical power increases with age, then do wizards who are born with powerful magic power increase it at different rates?"
Draco quietly removed his hand from his pocket.
Without much thought, Flitwick answered, "Mr. Wayne, this assumption is valid..."
The two wizards have magic power of 1 and 1.1 respectively. If they can increase their magic power by 0.1 and 0.11 each year, then their magic power will be 1.1 and 1.221 in the second year.
The third year saw figures of 1.21 and 1.35531, with a difference in proportional growth of approximately 0.02.
The figures for the fourth year were 1.331 and 1.5043941, with a difference of approximately 0.03 in the percentage increase.
The initial one-tenth difference will gradually widen as the gap increases year by year.
Given enough time, it's not impossible for one wizard to be equivalent to a hundred wizards.
Hermione, who is also very good at math, came to the same conclusion as Vincent.
That is the real reason why some wizards study Dark Magic.
Some innate differences are indeed difficult to overcome without hard work.
Many who clearly didn't understand thought it was just alarmist talk.
For example, Neville, a representative of academic underachievers, sits next to a top student looking completely bewildered.
Another example is Draco, who is full of frustration but patiently waiting for the next opportunity.
Flitwick was delighted to have two eager young wizards in his class.
"Professor, is it difficult to create a new spell?"
"Mr. Wayne, this requires very profound analysis of magic and spells."
"Professor, are Nonverbal spells very difficult?"
"Miss Granger, if you can maintain your focus long enough, you'll find it's actually quite easy."
After answering several questions, Flitwick smiled and assigned the next assignment.
"Whoever can calculate the accurate percentage increase difference in the seventh year before get out of class ends will have 3 points added to their college."
Vincent, whose eyes were glowing red, immediately picked up his pen and wrote down the formula in his textbook.
Hermione, on the other hand, was engrossed in her notebook.
For these two, calculating the decimal places is only a matter of time, even without the help of a computer.
The Little Lions were upset.
Studying? Study my ass!
Compared to the Little Snakes diligently writing, the way they stared blankly at their textbooks looked just like a pack of silly lions.
Draco's eyes also glowed red, and he seemed to be chanting some mysterious incantation.
The opportunity he had been waiting for finally came.
While Flitwick was focused on manipulating the chalk behind him to do calculations, a Dungbombs flew high into the aisle.
It hovered precisely above the Little Lions, getting closer and closer to its target.
Draco, covering his nose, could already picture the prime suspect covered in yellowish-brown paint.
"Professor, I've figured it out!" Vincent excitedly raised his right hand.