Black Blood

06 - Unreserved Warmth

'Truly, thank Merlin,' Cass thought to herself for the umpteenth time, feeling relieved as she watched her cousin angrily pace about.

The good news had come only an hour before, and it likely would've been sooner had the two purebloods still resided at Hogwarts, but she'd been withdrawn from the wizarding school a week prior alongside her cousin, who'd decided to stay with her at the luxurious Black Château that sat sat nestled and hidden within the southern folds of France.

His father, and Draco himself, of course, hadn't felt any threat from the Heir of Slytherin, but her cousin had decided to join her upon his own terms, citing he'd be dreadfully bored without her at his side to keep his company. The pureblooded pair had been all too happy to chase snitches and practice minor charms and jinxes on one another, nothing dangerous, of course, and they'd had right, good time over the past week until his father had shown up with a sneer upon his fine face, delivering the news and then holing himself up with her mother and father to speak of discrete happenings that didn't involve Draco or her.

"I can't believe that Weaslette didn't die!" he snapped, finally through with his pacing, turning on her for support that he would not find.

"It is a tad shocking, but, overall, it's wonderful news, wouldn't you agree?" she idly asked, glancing at her light-blue, painted nails that were a splendid match for her stunning, light-blue eyes.

"How is it good news?!" he bemusedly queried, his tone indicating that he'd thought she'd gone stark-raving mad.

"It would be an awful shame to lose one whose blood is so rich and pure, would it not?" she indifferently returned, giving him a look that said this should've been obvious for a toddler to comprehend.

His face screwed up in a mix of disgust and acceptance, and he slowly nodded his head with gritted teeth, not liking or appreciating her blatant logic, but acknowledging that her words had rung entirely too true.

"They're all a bunch of blood traitors, but they do come from one of the purest wizarding lines, after all," he grudgingly replied, sounding as though he'd rather wash his tongue with dungbomb-flavoured, thorn-laden twigs as to admit such. "Still, at least perfect Potter could have bit the boggart."

"I'm sure the Boy-Who-Lived, the child who somehow defeated The Dark Lord, the greatest wizard of all time, drifted so near death's loving embrace at the hands of some no-name, greenhorn student," she snidely, sarcastically remarked, which caused him to snort in disgruntled agreement.

"Yeah, knowing that scarhead, he was probably never in any danger from the start," Draco bit out, sending a glare through her that spoke of something akin to envy.

"Oh, don't be like that Draco," Cass coolly said, leaning back on the comforter she sat upon. "Potter may be the most famous wizard to ever draw breath, and I know you dislike him quite immensely, but don't be so negative and dim-witted as to look past what you have, and, may I remind you, what he does not."

He narrowed his eyes at her, and as offended as he obviously felt due to her 'interpreted insult', she saw awareness shine clear as day within each of his pretty gray orbs.

"I am filthy rich and dashingly handsome," he proudly stated, missing her point entirely.

"True," she said, her tone mildly amused. "But you're also of a pure and noble lineage that remains untainted and uncorrupted, and Potter is not."

"He's...not?!" her cousin queried in bafflement, coming to the same conclusion that many other pureblooded children likely came to within their youthful ignorance.

"The Potters are, or rather, were a pure line, until his sire sullied that legacy by breeding with a muggleborn," she answered, sending her painted nails a pleased look, satisfied that she knew something he didn't but should've. "Honestly, Draco, you should know this. It's common knowledge for one so famous as he, after all, and it isn't as though most people, pureblood or otherwise, are unaware of who James Potter wed."

"Don't be so full of yourself," he snidely snarked, although she could hear relief within his tone, indicating that yes, indeed, he had felt a measure of envy, possibly to the point of being jealous, silly as it seemed to her, towards the last of the Potter line.

"Truly, Draco, I will never be able to grasp your fixation upon that scarred child. Yes, he has quite the proficiency at mongering unwanted attention, surviving the impossible, and, I'll admit, he is quite the skilled seeker, but those attributes are trivial compared to his mixed, murky blood," she pointed out with a sniff, sending him a look of complete indifference.

He opened his mouth to reply, possibly to agree with her excellent points or possibly to deny his strange fixation on Potter, but before he'd uttered a singly syllable, a new voice made itself known.

"Too right your cousin is, Draco," Lucius Malfoy agreed, his silken voice coming from her bedroom's open doorway, and glancing upon his chiseled features, she found a small smile directed her way, which she readily returned.

"Father!" Draco greeted, sending his sire an excited grin, which Lucius returned with a cold stare that made Cass a smidge uncomfortable.

"Collect your things, Draco. It's time for us to return home," he emotionlessly stated, showing no affection towards his son, which, while Cass was used to the way he treated Draco, and while she was also used to similar treatment from her own parents, it still struck her as bizarre that he'd show her a smile when all he had reserved for her dear cousin was distant apathy.

"Yes, father," he replied, losing his grin, which caused Cass to feel rather bad for the attention-starved boy. "Dobby!"

The room remained silent and still as Draco awaited the arrival of his family's house-elf, only for the awkwardness to be broken instead by Lucius.

"Dobby is...no longer in our service, Draco," his father stated, adopting a sneer that sent shivers down her spine.

"He wouldn't have...' she thought to herself in rising horror. 'He wouldn't have murdered the poor thing...would he?!'

Whilst the man was far more mature than her cousin, and whilst he had an appreciation for heritage as great as her own, she knew he held nothing but hatred for the Weasley family. With the recent triumph of Potter involving the Chamber of Secrets, the man, mature as he may have otherwise been, could've easily flown into an uncontrollable rage and murdered poor, sweet Dobby.

"What...do you mean, father?" her cousin quietly asked, his tone as alarmed as Cass internally felt.

"Potter," was his short, simple reply, explaining nothing yet everything all at once. "He...set Dobby free."

"How?!" Draco asked, baffled and outraged, and while Cass wouldn't show it to the pair, internally, she was jumping for joy.

"That's unimportant, Draco. Now, quickly, collect your things so we may depart," the man said, his voice speaking of his own outrage, subtle and well-collected as it were.

The two left her room shortly thereafter, and she watched them travel to Draco's own from her open doorway, grasping the handle as soon as they disappeared within. Shutting her door, she returned to her spot atop the comfortable comforter and blew out a sigh of relief.

"Kreacher," she softly called, and without a single second of delay, her family's house-elf appeared, an exuberant, loving grin upon his old, wrinkly face.

"Yes, Miss?" he happily croaked.

She smiled back at him, unreserved and fully, and then she sighed again, this time in happiness that her oldest and dearest friend was merely a word away.

"I just wanted to see you, is all," she quietly said, watching as his own unreserved smile grew a little bit more.