They grew up in different environments. But you both went to Hogwarts, a little voice said inside his mind. He was a Pureblood and she was a Muggleborn. But she probably knew more about purebloods than all of us put together. Draco smiled at his own thought. It was true – she always knew everything. But then his eyes grew somber as he recited in his head he carried a dark stain; she was of the light. But she had darkness too, one that she only shared with him, the voice piped in. She was friends with Potter and Weasley. He knew his mother was right, if it ever came down to a choice she would always side with them. But at least she had a side, friends who would choose her as well. Unlike him. No one ever put their trust on the likes of him, except his mother.