Respect

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Respect
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"Watch it Mudblood," Draco sneered, turning, he walked away, robes sweeping the ground. He didn't notice the piece of parchment flutter to the ground behind him.

Hermione stood there, seething. She was irritated by the tone of his voice, and the insult that rolled off his tongue with such ease. 'But what was that?' She thought.

The girl picked up the piece of parchment. She began to read it as she walked off.

*

Respect is not a given thing. It must be earned, it cannot be taken. Or bought.

Fear and respect are two extremely different things.

It is possible to lose respect, but, it is your own fault if it occurs.

You must respect yourself before you can respect others.

We all need it.

We can live without it, but it makes for a very bad life.

I do not respect my parents.

You can respect people you do not like. I know I do.

I do not respect the man, no the creature, my father says I will one day serve.

After all, he has been defeated many times by Potter of all people. My father is trying to relive and recapture his glory days.

My father is an imbecile, and lost my respect a long time ago.

Although she beats me in nearly every class, I respect Granger for her dedication to her studies.

Bizarrely enough, I actually respect Neville Longbottom. Although he is absolutely hopeless at Potions and everything else, he still turns up, every lesson. Most people, if they had to suffer through the comments, and the very presence of Professor Snape when he obviously scared them silly, deserves some kind of recognition.

Professor Snape is the one who commands the most respect from me out of all the adults that I have contact with on a daily basis.

If I am troubled, I can walk into his office or workroom at any time, and just talk.

It's even worse to admit that a Malfoy's father figure, is not in fact his actual father.

I respect Professor Snape because is seems that he just turned his back on 'the Dark lord' and went about his life, agreeing to teach (and perhaps spy) for Dumbledore.

Ah yes, Dumbledore.

A man who appears generally to be a doddering old fool, or someone's aged, wise and slightly senile grandfather. And then when an occasion presents itself, turns into a venerable, smart, powerful wizard, with an aura about him that makes people follow him.

Albus Dumbledore, regardless of his failings whatever they may be, commands respect, even grudgingly given. And he has secured the love or respect of nearly every student at Hogwarts. Those whom have neither for him are fools like Crabbe and Goyle.

Crabbe and Goyle certainly do not have my respect. They are walking mountains with apparently brains to match.

I respect Potter for finding two true friends in Granger and Weasley. I know that their fathers did not order them to become friends with him.

I also respect Potter for living with those monsters he calls relations. I know that if even a _quarter_ of the things I've heard are true, he could have gone on a psychotic rage, killed the lot of them, and probably would not have had anything happen to him in the way of Azkaban.

And regardless of my comments, I know that Weasley is not after Potters fortune. Fame perhaps, but not the money.

Although it is much too easy to rile Weasley on that score, and maybe this is a sign that I should not go for such easy targets.

No challenge.

The one teacher whom I have no respect for whatsoever is Professor Trelawney. The woman is a fraud. My great grandmother was a true mystic. She was a stern no-nonsense woman who always knew if I hadn't washed behind my ears. The only thing was, she made true predictions.

'It will rain on Thursday for eight hours and two minutes.' and of course she'd be right. 'Africa will surrender suddenly to he who was once Tom Riddle, and your father will be back three weeks early.' This had also been true.

Father had her killed when I was four, as she had predicted the fall of Voldemort, and he hadn't believed her at the time. And then he realised it had come true, that his Master had been severely diminished by the baby Potter, and had had her killed.

Pathetic!

Weakling!

Father just hadn't wanted his master to know that there were problems within the Malfoys.

And of course we don't have problems. Why would the Malfoy's have problems?

No one can ever know about these things that I write. No one.

Although I am rich and have everything that you would think that I could want: money, looks, toys, books, clothes; all simple material things.

There is one thing I lack. One thing that I don't have besides love.

From others.

Respect.

*

"Watch it Mudblood," Draco snarled.

He had not been having a good day. Pansy had been hanging all over him at all meals, and classes they had together had been no different. She had been constantly touching him, and then he finally got a moment to himself. But to make matters worse he had to bump into Mudblood Granger.

Again!

He was beginning to think that some deity or a Higher Being had it in for him.

It would explain some of the problems in his life.

With no expression on her face, Hermione faced him and handed him a piece of parchment.

"I believe this is yours," she said crisply.

He took that parchment, and she quickly left, much in the same way he had last time.

Draco was shocked, no, horrified to find that he was holding his own parchment.

She had read it.

Flipping it over, his heart nearly stopped.

Written on it, in a slanted flowing hand was just three words.

'You have mine.'

Respect.

Every one needs it.

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That's it, my first HP fic. So, what do you think?