Author's Note: Hello my little chickens. I was bored out of my mind with my best friend and we came up with this listening to a specific song! ;) Please R&R, and ENJOY!

Hermione Granger was a muggleborn wizard. And in all honesty, she didn't care. She wore her title with pride, like many other muggleborns in the school. The only few times she felt saddened by her blood status was when any pureblood prick called her a 'mudblood.' She was unfortunately looked down upon by many purebloods in the wizarding world.

Hermione was currently walking to Potions class one Friday. Finally, it was the last day of the week. She let out a sigh when she was crowded between multiple purebloods and other wizards. The student body was in a rush to get to their last class of the week. Unfortunately, Hermione was separated from Harry and Ron, and thrown into a throng of Slytherins.

Obviously put in a troubling situation, the muggleborn began to feel slightly down about herself with all of the sneers and evil comments as she tried to push her way through to class. Crabbe took a lucky shot and managed to clip the side of Hermione's cheek. A sharp, stinging pain produced in Hermione's face as she bit down on her lip, feeling blood trickle on the inside of her cheek. Finally, she managed to escape.

Harry and Ron saw their struggling friend and quickly came to her rescue. "We should get you to the Hospital Wing, 'Mione," Harry frowned.

"Yeah. That'll leave a mark," Ron pointed out. Harry shot the red head a look.

"No. We have to get to Potions. I'll just go to the Hospital Wing afterward," Hermione argued, setting off again. Ron and Harry glanced at each other, before following their studious friend down the hallway.

"Miss Granger. Are you incapable of ever appearing on time, looking at least somewhat decent," Snape sneered upon the Golden Trio's arrival. A select few snickered under their breath. Hermione put her head down before sitting in a seat next to her friends. Snape sighed. "Twenty points from Gryffindor. Fifteen for being late, and five for being un-presentable." Hermione felt tears prick her eyes, but fought them back and focused on the lesson before fleeing to the Gryffindor tower at the end of the lesson to her bed.

Later that evening, the Golden Trio was sitting around the fire. Ron and Harry playing Wizard Chess, and Hermione fighting to finish her Transfiguration essay. "You know Hermione," Ron said suddenly. "You have to learn how to defend yourself against those ruddy Slytherins." Hermione looked up slowly, fire in her normally warm brown eyes.

"And how do you presume I do that, Ronald," Hermione ground out. She was not in any particular mood to discuss what had happened that afternoon. Madam Pomfry had patched her up and sent her on her way with a pitying look. But Hermione had of course not forgotten the incident.

"I don't know. Just come up with some witty come back. Your smart," Ron smiled a little. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I don't know Ron. Maybe. Right now, I want to go back to reading this. I am quite finished speaking about this now." Then Hermione stood and walked out leaving Ron and Harry.

"You know, mate. She really could be good at coming up with witty remarks," Harry pondered.

Meanwhile...

Hermione sat on her bed, pajama clad legs pulled up to her chest, chin resting on her knees. What if I really could use my smarts to defend myself. She wondered to herself. I could send them sprawling backwards in shock without a stunning spell. Hermione chuckled at the thought of a composed Slytherin wheeling back in shock. You know, this could be great.

~A line break that loves armadillos~

Monday morning, Hermione walked down to Herbology. Another class that she shared with Slytherin. The familiar crowd of students made their way to their first class, Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Slytherins. A group of five blood prejudice pricks surrounded her.

"Hey there, Mudblood," Goyle sneered.

"I'm surprised you're still walking around these corridors after loosing your house twenty points," Nott agreed. Hermione dug around her brain for any kind of remark. She sighed.

"Go insult a hippogriph," Hermione growled trying to get to class.

"What was that? Did the little princess actually comment on something?" Flint raised an eyebrow.

"You're all just a bunch of losers. You learned how to talk to snakes just so you could have friends," Hermione shot back. She knew that Parselmouth was a trait passed on, not necessarily learned, but hopefully the Slytherins were to daft to remember that. The group looked rather surprised.

"Well. When you encounter a boggart, does it turn into a mirror?" Adrian Pucey asked innocently.

"No. But a dementor would never kiss your ugly face. In fact, sending you to rot in Azkaban would be mean to the prisoners already there," Hermione said sweetly. At this point, a crowd was forming around the group.

"Well, Granger, how you became a wizard is one for the Department of Mysteries," Someone piped up.

"Olivander gave you a wand just like you," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Thick and hollow."

"The Sorting Hat should have put you in the trash. But he must have misunderstood your memories, I'm sure it doesn't speak troll. That is your native language right?" Nott countered. Not wanting the group to see how much that last insult effected her, Hermione whipped something up.

"Well, my favorite thing about the ability to apparate is being able to leave right when you get here," Hermione scowled.

"Well you are so dumb you thought Quaffles needed Syrup-wait. You're not old enough to apparate," Flint pointed out. Hermione cursed her lack of thinking ahead. "So you can't leave us, Mudblood. You'll always have to endure this."

~The line break likes the band QUEEN"

Hermione sighed. The Slytherins had seen right through her façade of insults not bugging her. Ron and Harry had congratulated her on at least showing the Slytherins she could be aggressive, but it wasn't enough. And Tuesday morning, Hermione was in a foul right mood. She glared menacingly at her cup, trying to make it explode with her piercing gaze. She had an irritated feeling in her stomach, and a specific song was stuck in her head. The Gryffindors had thrown a party last night in honor of the O.W.L.S. being over and the Weasley twins humiliating Umbridge.

Her mood got even worse when a group of Slytherins approached, Draco Malfoy at the lead.

"Hey, Mudblood. I heard we were working on producing a patroness today. And I am forever grateful because every time I get near a dementor, I am forced to relive our every encounter," Draco spat. That was the last straw for Hermione. She stood up and faced Draco, her irritated scowl turning to a spine chilling smile. Hermione grabbed a toothpick from the table behind her. "What? Think that can defend you?" The Great Hall was silent, watching curiously. Hermione only smiled before pricking her finger and watching as a pool of blood began to form on her finger tip.

"What is this?" Hermione asked motioning to her blood. The confused Slytherins sneered.

"It's the mud that flows in your veins," Draco growled. And for once, the insult didn't sting.

"Correct, Draco," Hermione chuckled. The entire hall was leaning forward in anticipation. Then, without warning, Hermione swiped her hand forward and left a streak of her blood on Draco's cheek. "You've got mud on your face." Hermione said quoting the song that kept replaying in her head from the night before.

Ron and Harry looked at each other for a moment before nodding. Then, they stomped one foot, the other, and clapped- repeating the pattern again and again. The muggleborns in the room realized what was happening and joined in. Those who didn't understand joined in as well, minus the Slytherins of course.

"You got mud on you face," A group of muggleborns called out.

"You big disgrace. Kickin' your can all over the place," others continued.

"We will, we will, rock you!" Everyone who knew the song joined in as if encouraging Hermione. Even a few of the teachers joined in.

"You got mud on your face, you big disgrace," The Great Hall sang as they continued onto the third verse. Then, the doors banged open and there stood a toad in pink clothes.

"Somebody had better put you back in your place," she said sweetly, a fake, sweet laugh emitting from her lips. Nobody moved until Fred and George raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Just because the professor knew the lyrics, didn't make her in charge.

"Sing it! We will, we will rock you!" And no cared anymore. They plowed forward, chasing Umbridge from the room. No one wanted the song to end, but eventually they did have to go to their first class.

Before they entered the classroom, Hermione called out noticing a red streak on Draco's cheek. "Hey, Malfoy! You still got mud on your face!"