Darcy lay down on her bed, staring out the window. She didn't see much, anyway, for they were under the lake. A green glow cast over the room, like it did every single day. She looked back at the end of her bed, where books lay open and parchment papers. She was doing her homework, trying to impress her professors. But she was stuck with Herbology. She could do Transfiguration, Astronomy, heck, she could even do Arithmancy! But Herbology? That was a BIG no-no. She kicked her homework off her bed.
Maybe making that anti-muggle-born club was a bad idea. As soon as it was taken down, she lost her chance of the teachers liking her. Well at least some students liked her! Right? She doubted that. She thought and thought. Okay, sure, she enjoyed scaring first years, mostly muggle-borns, during he free time. Sure, she bragged about her blood status. Sure, her great-great grandfather set fire to muggle homes way back then before she was born. Sure, she beat up a kid in her second year (Or was it her first year? She forgets). Who. Cares? That's no reason to hate her. She doesn't care if muggle-borns hate her. But there has to be at least a Slytherin who doesn't hate her, right?