A/N: Once again, let's get the giant disclaimer out of the way at the beginning here. Not my characters, not my world, not even completely my plot. You'll recognize many scenes as being from the books, but (as the title of the story implies) it's from a different perspective. There will likely be spells and other magical items that I make up (as per Redemption), cause that's my MO.

Okay, so here's a question for you guys (and the only time that I will beg you for reviews, ever): I've originally planned to write this solely from Draco's POV. However, would you be interested in seeing some of Hermione's perspective in regards to these scenes? Cause I could write a whole other book on just her POV if this story were canon. Additionally, I plan for this story to span all seven canon books (and it may quite possibly go further than that). So, would you prefer it all to be here in one story, or do you want seven (or more) separate stories?

Thanks in advance, and I hope you enjoy this new story!

~ PART I: HOW IT BEGAN ~

Prologue: The Malfoys

Draco Malfoy slumped in his chair and folded his arms in a perfect display of pouting. His father, Lucius Malfoy, sat on the other side of the desk, lecturing him about the importance of keeping pure blood pure. At nine-years-old, Draco was almost ridiculously bored by the speech his father was giving him. He'd heard it all before from his grandparents, aunts, and uncles. The entirety of the Black and Malfoy families (except for the odd one here and there) were Blood Supremacists. Draco understood on a basic level that being a pure-blood made him special. It meant that his wizarding ancestry could be traced back to the beginning of magic; no half-bloods or Muggle-borns (or as his father called them, Mudbloods) had diluted the purity of his lineage at all.

"Draco, are you listening to me?" his father demanded angrily.

"Yes, Father," Draco answered sullenly.

"Then what did I just say?"

Draco held back his eye roll. "That being pure-blood makes us special. The Malfoys and Blacks are both a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Any family not included in that registry is insignificant in comparison and should be treated as such."

Lucius nodded. "Very good. We will continue your studies tomorrow. The lesson will be about how primitive Muggles are and the reasons that Mudbloods do not deserve to use magic."

"Yes, Father." Draco stood up and nearly ran from his father's study before he could be called back.

He traversed the seemingly never-ending hallways of Malfoy Manor till he reached his bedroom. He was looking forward to reading his new book about Quidditch. However, Draco's plans for relaxing were dashed when he took note of the stack of books on his bed. He scanned the titles: Fifty Reasons Why Muggles Should be Eradicated; Mudbloods and the Threats They Pose to Magical Society; and Pure-blood: A Detailed Ancestry of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

Draco rolled his eyes heavily. He knew his family expected him to have the contents of these books memorized before he started at Hogwarts. He knew it was important because he would be forced to live in a castle with Mudbloods and half-bloods; he would need to know how to recognize them in order to keep from unnecessary association with them.

And yet, there was a part of him that didn't know whether his father was right. Draco had no personal experience with any of the people his family claimed were of unworthy status. He'd never met a Muggle-born himself, and had never been allowed to venture into Muggle London. His parents always Apparated them directly to Diagon Alley whenever they needed to visit. How was he supposed to form his own opinion on these matters if he wasn't allowed to fully study them? Could one even understand an issue in its entirety if all aspects of the issue were not explored?

So, instead of opening one of the books his father expected him to read, Draco called out for his favorite house-elf, Dobby. The little elf appeared in his room with a crack! and bowed low.

"What does Young Master need of Dobby?" he squeaked.

Draco shrugged. "I just wanted to talk, I guess."

"Dobby is glad to talk to Master Draco."

"Do you know anything about Muggles?" Draco asked warily

Dobby shook his head, making his long bat-like ears flap furiously. "No sir, Dobby cannot say, sir. Master has forbidden it."

"But why?" He frowned in annoyance.

Dobby shook his head again. Draco noticed his spindly fingers were twitching toward the fireplace poker.

"Wait, Dobby! Don't! You don't have to tell me!"

"Dobby is grateful, Master Draco," the elf said, sagging in relief.

"Are there any books in the library that would tell me more about Muggles?" Draco asked.

"Dobby does not know, sir." He hung his head. "Dobby cannot read, sir."

"Oh! I didn't know," Draco said. "I could teach you, if you want."

Dobby looked up, a simultaneously wary and excited expression upon his wrinkly face. "Dobby would like that very much, sir. But Dobby does not know if Master would approve."

Draco frowned. "Well, has he specifically forbidden you to learn how?"

"No, sir."

"Then I'll teach you. We'll just have to keep it a secret." He nodded resolutely. "As long as we don't tell Father, you ought to be just fine."

Dobby nodded slowly. "Dobby thinks that might work, sir."

"All right. We'll have to keep lessons for the weekends. Meet me here at seven on Saturday and we'll start. You are excused."

The tiny house-elf nodded and Disapparated.

Draco slumped onto his bed. Teaching Dobby how to read would give him something to do to pass the time, but it certainly wouldn't earn him any respect from his father. Maybe it would be better if he just did as his father wanted. Maybe it would be better if he memorized everything his family expected and simply spouted the information back at them. He shook his head. Of course this was the right choice. How could so many people be wrong, anyway? So Draco reached for the first book in the stack and cracked it open.