Potions and Purebloods

He'd never particularly cared for Arthur Weasley—everyone knew that the ginger filth sympathized with Blood Traitors and Mudbloods. He was disgustingly empathetic, a bit frazzled, and all-around too sickeningly kind for Lucius Malfoy to stomach. Thankfully, the strange Wizard was four years Lucius' elder, so the Malfoy heir didn't have to worry too frequently about running into him. They were (obviously) sorted into different Houses, at different stages in education, and hung around in completely different social circles. So really, aside from petty and idle gossip that circulated amongst the Slytherins in the Common Room, Lucius didn't have much of a reason to loathe the redhead Blood Traitor so entirely.

At least…not until he'd reached his seventh year of schooling.

It was a turbulent year; one full of the strife and tension that hung in the air surrounding war. There had been talk of a lord rising above and beyond the expectations of the magical community for a few years now—most simply referred to him as the Dark Lord, and Lucius, rather fascinated with the ideals perpetuated by this God-like figure, had become closely aligned with an inner circle of fellow Slytherins who helped him promote the Blood Purification Act set forth by elite members of the Pureblood community. The Dark Lord seemed to revere this plan; there was talk amongst different members of Slytherin House that his plan was to one day exterminate all Mudbloods and send filthy Half-Bloods and Traitors to workhouses—as a way to pay off their debts to society, so to speak. It was a very…fanciful idea, so to speak, but with each rumor or tidbit of information Lucius heard about this supposed Dark Lord, the more interested he became.

Though it was not, unfortunately, a mindset approved and promoted by everyone.

In the two or so months since he'd been back at Hogwarts Lucius had, unfortunately, been forced to endure the ignorant conversation of headstrong Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors who would swear on their lives that blood purity and elitist societies promoting pro-Pureblood laws and manners of thinking were complete and absolute rubbish. It was disgusting, and more than once Lucius had sneered at a willful younger student who claimed that this ever-expanding method of thinking and behaving was setting the Wizarding community back at least two centuries.

Lucius, of course, disagreed with this ridiculous and naïve notion.

Repeatedly, he told himself that the sooner he could get the hell out of Hogwarts, the better—he was looking forward to leaving the filth and ignorant members of the world behind in order to move onto bigger and better things.

What he hadn't been planning on, however, was the muck of the community following him back to Hogwarts before he'd even been permitted the chance to graduate.

It was a chilly November afternoon, and Lucius was scheduled for double block potions with the…eccentric Professor Slughorn. Studying the course at a N.E.W.T.-level and hailing from a family known for owning an apothecary business gave Lucius quite a bit of an edge; it was also one of the many reasons why he'd been invited to join Slughorn's elite—if not slightly odd—Slug Club. Today, they were meant to brew a working stopper-full of Draught of Living Death. It was meant to be a complex and advanced potion for students to brew, though Lucius had watched his father observe and create the concoction himself dozens of times, so he had swaggered into the classroom full of pride and self-confidence.

Nothing too out of the ordinary, really, given his lineage. The Malfoys were known for being boastful…and they had every right to be.

No sooner had he set his belongings down on the table next to Narcissa than Slughorn, who had been tinkering with a few objects behind his desk, stood up and let out a rather booming, obnoxious sort of laugh. Narcissa, who had been studying some notes she'd taken last class, glanced warily at Lucius out of the corner of her eye. She'd always been a bit…put off by their Potions professor, and if it were not for his exclusive invitation into the highly sought after Slug Club, Lucius would have been very vocal in agreement with his…with his girlfriend. He didn't know what to call Narcissa these days; they were more than friends, certainly, but he wasn't sure whether or not their relationship had progressed far enough to be considered stable. He didn't know if she referred to him as her boyfriend in private. He wondered nearly constantly, of course, and while it irritated him on a certain level that he spent so much time thinking about someone else, at the root of it all…Lucius knew he couldn't have chosen a companion more perfectly suited for him.

So enthralled in his thoughts concerning the blonde Witch seated next to him, Lucius nearly missed Slughorn's babbling speech. His pudgy hands were stuffed deep inside the pockets of his robes, and he was facing the class with a rather lopsided grin set on his aging face.

"Today, class, it would seem that we have a slight change in our curriculum!" He began, nodding vigorously as he spoke. "What I had originally planned—as you all know, of course—was to teach you the proper instruction for brewing the Draught of Living Death. As it is, however, I was notified by the Ministry this very morning that we have some special guests arriving to our classroom! Two of my former students have volunteered to discuss with you the benefits of working for our fine Wizarding government! Both are involved in differing departments, and each have provided a presentation for you all informing you of the highest benefits and qualifications that our fine Ministry of Magic provides!"

Lucius sighed heavily, rolling his eyes and pushing his textbooks away from him. So, it was to be a dull session, was it?

"With that being said," Slughorn continued, shifting to the side slightly and gesturing an arm towards the classroom's entrance. "Please welcome Arthur and Molly Weasley!"

Lucius sat upright the moment that blasted name fell from his professor's lips, accompanied by…a second name? A Molly Weasley? Surely the Mudblood-loving loon hadn't taken on a wife, had he? Curious beyond all reason, Lucius stiffened and craned his neck to get a good look at the couple sauntering in the room. He saw a pair of bright red heads as they bobbed and weaved their way through the crowd, and then…he saw them.

Instantly, Lucius realized that he recognized the woman in question; her name had been Molly Prewett by birth, and she had been yet another insufferable Gryffindor who hailed as an alumni member of Hogwarts for approximately four years now. Her hair was the same irritating shade as her husband's, and as they stood beaming and facing the class, Lucius couldn't help but sneer and scowl in blatant disgust.

The second thing Lucius noticed (though really, how could he have missed it?) was the rather…rotund figure of the recently-wedded Mrs. Weasley. Her stomach was swollen to the point of indecency, and as she clasped one hand protectively over her abdomen and rubbed it soothingly, Lucius was struck with one thought—she must have been giving birth to a litter of weasels. It was the only explanation.

Close by, Lucius heard the vague and whispered conversation of a few Gryffindors he hadn't bothered to learn by name; they were commenting on the litter of rodents the family was expecting, and Lucius sneered when he heard one—a raven-haired young woman with a particular affinity for chattering like a madwoman—claim that this was not the first child they were having together.

Good Godric, just how many rodents did Weasley plan on breeding?!

So wrapped up in this…disgusting (albeit interesting) tidbit of information, Lucius had completely lost track of what was occurring around him. It was only when Narcissa softly cleared her throat and sat up primly next to him in her chair that Lucius forced himself to snap out of his clearly troubled thoughts in…in favor of looking at the front of the classroom. And the sight that met him was, of course, none too pleasant. For there, standing at the front of the class and beaming with all of the idiotic naivety that came with being a low-ranking member of society were Arthur and Molly Weasley. The filth of the Wizarding community.

"Well! Hello there, everyone!" Arthur began, smiling crookedly and clasping his hands together. Lucius noted that the elder Wizard was wearing a ridiculous sort of hat on his head, and he just barely refrained from snickering aloud at the ghastly sight he was being forced to endure. Slughorn seemed overly-enthused about the pair being in his classroom, which—in the end—only helped to contribute to Lucius' overall sense of nausea. This was going to be a wretched class period; he just knew it.

However, despite his best attempts to make his disgust known, both Arthur and Molly seemed rather determined to ignore his existence. Narcissa slipped a hand over to rest on his knee underneath the table, squeezing his leg lightly as if to reassure him that everything would be alright. As if to remind him that she would be there; that there was no need to overreact. Though he would never admit it out loud, Lucius took a great deal of comfort in her presence—she helped to remind him that there were bigger and better things out there than dealing with unpleasant vermin like the Weasleys.

"Some of you might remember me, though I see many unfamiliar faces," Arthur continued, clasping his hands together and surveying the crowd before him. "For those of you who do not know, my name is Arthur Weasley—and this is my wife, Molly." Molly lifted an arm and smiled to the group of students, wavering her fluttering hand like a madwoman, all the while showing off the tiny ring she bore on her third finger.

"I work in the Ministry of Magic, and I can say with complete honesty that it is the most rewarding career field I could have entered!" Weasley went on, practically overflowing with excitement. How repulsive. "Recently I've graduated from my internship and have moved on to fill a permanent position working in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. Now, how many of you have heard of this particular branch of the Ministry of Magic?"

Every Pureblood hand shot straight into the air (even Lucius managed to begrudgingly give his hand a half-hearted wave in the elder man's direction), though not many other students knew what in the world he was talking about. As was to be expected, of course; after all, how could anyone expect those of…inferior breeding to know nearly enough about the magical world? They didn't belong in it.

"As I predicted," Weasley went on, giving a slight shake of his head. "Not many are privy to the information concerning the department, and while I certainly can't give you information on any of our cases—" Who would even care enough to ask, really? "—I can definitely give you a bit of background information! Now, the Misuse of Mgugle Artefacts Office is a branch in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry! Does anyone know what we're responsible for?"

"Boring everyone to death," Lucius sneered under his breath, rolling his eyes and settling into his chair. Snickers from his fellow Slytherins nearby filled the room, and Arthur shot a rather disgruntled look in his former classmate's direction. Lucius could sense Narcissa growing stiff next to him, and instantly the hand resting on his leg tightened.

"Ah…Malfoy, is it?" Arthur questioned, his eyes narrowing slightly. The bumbling oaf knew who he was, of course; he was simply feigning arrogance in front of those who were present. A rather sneaky tactic, truth be told. Nevertheless, Lucius chose to humor him…for now. Smirking at the Wizard before him, he quirked a brow and nodded his head slowly. If need be, he would deal with Weasley alone. After class.

"Well, I can assure you that my office is anything but dull," He went on, nodding his head fervently. He then turned to face the class again, seemingly determined to give Lucius little to no attention. It was no secret that his family held the Malfoys (and the Blacks, for all that mattered) with little to no regard; they were as disillusioned by their wealth and status as Lucius was by Arthur's seemingly cheerful demeanor. They were natural enemies, he supposed; born to disagree and bred to loathe one another.

"We're responsible for handling the Muggle items that have been charmed or bewitched and, essentially, making sure they stay out of harm's way to all Muggles involved!" Weasley concluded, beaming at the disinterested group before him. Narcissa huffed under her breath; Lucius smirked. "Now, any questions?"

A meek little Gryffindor in the corner of the room timidly lifted his hand, and just as Arthur was prepared to give the young man the floor, Lucius cleared his throat and spoke up.

"Yes—just how little brain power does this position require?" He sneered, the corners of his lips lifting up just slightly. He supposed he looked rather smug, and the expression on Arthur's face only helped to reinforce that.

"Excuse me?" Molly spoke up suddenly. She had been quiet up until now; content to stroke her swollen stomach and smile at the class. But now, when her husband's precious career was being insulted, it was clear she was ready to strike.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" Lucius challenged. Narcissa's fingertips were digging into his leg by now, as if to silently beg him to back down before he got himself in trouble. "It's a low-ranking, dead end career given to those incompetent enough to rise to the ranks of high-level officers, Aurors, or entrepreneurs. A common man's job, really." He sniffed, jutting his chin forward and lifting his head in an act of defiance. Weasley's wife seemed to grow more and more irritated by the minute, for her eyes narrowed and her cheeks flushed with color. Fully prepared to face the onslaught of the pregnant woman's wrath, Lucius bit on the inside of his cheek and glared at the couple facing him. The rest of the class had grown silent—Narcissa included.

"I'll have you know, Malfoy, that my husband's work is extremely exhausting, rewarding, and intelligence-based," Molly defended, huffing at the young Slytherin seated in front of her. It was clear that Lucius had struck a nerve.

Excellent.

"Which is why, of course, someone of your husband's caliber was hired for the job," Lucius responded. This seemed to only upset the couple further. Their hair now matched the color of their faces.

How interesting.

"Why, how dare you sugg—" Molly began, but was quickly cut off by the meek little Gryffindor who had raised his hand long ago. Distracted, she glanced over in his direction. Arthur, on the other hand, managed to keep his glare set firmly on Lucius. Narcissa inhaled sharply.

"Excuse me, Mrs…Weasley, was it?" The boy began, his voice small and timid. What a hearty Gryffindor ihe/i was. "Where is it in the Ministry that you work, exactly?" It was clear that his rival Housemate was attempting to calm the storm (seeing as how Slughorn could manage to do little more than stare at his class in utter bemusement), and Lucius was instantly resentful of the twit for interfering in what could have easily been a session of riveting banter.

"Oh, I was an intern at the Ministry for a little bit, dear," Molly went on to explain; her anger seemed to evaporate immediately, and Lucius sized it up to a very strange, very insane side effect of her rather obvious pregnancy. "I worked as a receptionist for the Minister of Magic himself, but now with my second child on the way, I've chosen to step down in favor of being a full-time mother."

Lucius rolled his eyes. Of course.

"Congratulations!" A thin girl in the back piped up, clapping her hands together.

"Oh, thank you!" Molly said sincerely, smiling at the Gryffindor table.

"Yes, congratulations," Lucius murmured under his breath.

"Lucius…" Narcissa whispered, unconsciously shifting closer to him. He knew that she was only looking out for him, and despite the fact that he was well aware that he needed to heed her advice…he couldn't bear to. Not with this filth standing before him; preaching to him about working for the Ministry of Magic and the benefits that came with having a brain-dead occupation.

"Are we quite finished now?" Lucius blurted out suddenly, his lips pressed into a thin line. He was vaguely aware of Slughorn blinking in astonishment in the back of the room, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. Molly seemed irritated; Arthur aghast. Clearly neither one of them had been expecting to speak in front of Lucius Malfoy this afternoon.

Good. If his afternoon was to be ruined by their presence, then he sure as hell was going to make sure that their day was ruined by him.

"Mr. Malfoy…" Slughorn trailed off, clearly stunned by Lucius' lack of manners. Perhaps if it was anyone else, Lucius would have managed to bite his tongue. But to be forced to endure an afternoon spent with two of the most ignorant Blood Traitors he'd ever come across? He couldn't possibly think of a more excruciating way to spend his time.

"It's perfectly fine, Professor," Arthur said with a wave of his hand, but the angry glimmer in his eyes suggested anything but. "I suspect Malfoy simply doesn't understand how rewarding hard labor can be."

That had done it. That one blasted comment had sent Lucius over the edge. His eyes narrowed into vicious and accusatory slits, and try as he might to remind himself of the way in which Narcissa's fingers dug into his thigh at his side, he couldn't manage to think of anything but Weasley. Weasley and how he absolutely wanted to hex his face off.

"Yes, well I suppose when you're poor and lacking a respectable social status and proper amount of higher level education, you'd have to resort to hard labor," Lucius sneered, jutting his chin forward. "It's the only option left for your kind, after all."

"My kind, Malfoy?" Arthur repeated, stepping forward, His wife placed a hand on his shoulder, as if to refrain him from starting anything physical.

Ha! As if he could ever win.

The corners of Lucius' lips twisted at the clear challenge presented by Arthur. He kept his mouth shut, though, and merely stared straight through the ginger menace trembling before him.

"You know…traitors, and all that," He managed finally, his lips pursed. And just like that, Weasley's entire body was trembling with suppressed rage. And Lucius couldn't have possibly been more thrilled about it. The rest of the class had grown dead silent by now; even Slughorn couldn't seem to muster up an adequate response.

"In the end I'd rather be liked for who I am, Malfoy, than forced to associate myself with haughty Witches and Wizards who don't understand the true meaning of magic and community," Arthur replied, clearly struggling to remain calm. He stared fixedly at Narcissa, which only served to irritate Lucius further. One of his hands slid over to grasp Narcissa's underneath the table, squeezing it once for silent reassurance.

"Isn't this meant to be an instruction on our government?" Narcissa piped up finally, clearly unable to stay quiet any longer. "Why are you standing here patronizing us about your own personal views between right and wrong? It's a matter of opinion, is it not? Or do you speak for the Ministry of Magic now, as well?"

Both Arthur and Molly seemed extremely dumbfounded by that comment. Lucius glared in their general direction.

"Mr. Malfoy…perhaps you'd better go and seat yourself in the hallway until the end of the class' discussion," Slughorn stated finally, having managed to find his voice after all. "I'll be out to collect you once our guests have left."

Wishing to leave with every bit of dignity and grace that he could manage, Lucius nodded stiffly and reluctantly released his hand from Narcissa's grip, smoothing down his robes and collecting his belongings. Glaring at each of the Weasleys one last time, Lucius turned hotly on his heel and stormed out of the room, his dark robes billowing out behind him. And it was only when he was out in the hall—pacing and irritated beyond belief—that Lucius recognized their exchange for what it was.

A vicious rivalry had just been born, and Lucius would see to it that Arthur Weasley never had a moment's rest. He had insulted Lucius' bloodline, and more importantly…he had insulted Narcissa. And to Lucius, that one act was unforgivable.

He was, after all, nothing more than a ridiculous little Blood Traitor. And Lucius was a Malfoy—pure, strong, and sophisticated.

And to the young Malfoy Heir, it was quite clear which one would always be the victor.

a/N: Hey there everyone, how are you all doing? I wrote this piece quite a while ago and meant to submit it, but real life and other distractions got in the way. Potions and Purebloods was actually written for Interhouse Fest on LJ-my prompt was to feature how the animosity between Arthur and Lucius first started. I also had to include Molly, Narcissa, and Potions class. It was a bit tricky, given their age differences, but I finally managed to whip this up! Overall, I had so much fun writing it, and as always, I hope you all like it, too! Don't forget to give me your feedback!