Black Blood

025 - Small Victory

"What was that?! Are you and Potter secretly friends, Cass?! Have you been chummy with him behind my back?!" Draco spat out as he angrily paced back and forth within their luxurious but temporary abode.

"Don't be silly, cousin," she indifferently replied, giving the boy a disdainful sniff, which was, apparently, the wrong way to react.

"So you have?!" he roared, turning upon her seated form with an enraged snarl.

"At what point, precisely, did I imply such?" she bemusedly asked, baffled by his callus accusation. "As far as I'm aware, he and I are nothing more than the vaguest of acquaintances, with you as the ever boisterous medium."

Whilst this was not entirely true, as Potter and her had met a number of times that her cousin was not, and never would be, aware of, it didn't change the fact that the girl felt he and she were little more than acquaintances, and vague ones at that.

"Then why, exactly, did he seem so chummy with you, hm?!" he sarcastically spat, and truly, Cassiopeia found herself wondering how her cousin was unable to see something that seemed so transparent to her.

"Perhaps, Draco, it's because it caused you such obvious distress," she coolly replied, doing her best to keep the contempt she felt for her cousin from her demure voice.

"What?!" he asked, his expression morphing from outrage to shock, indicating that he had some idea concerning what seemed so obvious to her. "Do you mean...he did it to...anger me?!"

"Did it make you angry?" she rhetorically queried, raising one fine eyebrow, and Draco slowly nodded, his expression becoming a blank, fine canvas. "And was it obvious to Potter, do you suppose?"

Again, he slowly nodded, and his features slowly shifted so as to show dismayed understanding.

"Potter, he...it's so obvious why he was acting friendly..." he muttered, his cheeks going red as he did, although Cassiopeia wasn't quite certain if it was out of embarrassment or anger. "And I just...fed him. I just...played the...fool."

"Yes, Draco, you did," she quietly replied, sighing as her voice became unerringly gentle so as to remove the sting she internally wished to apply to the affirmative statement.

The boy suddenly chuffed, the sound almost a rumbling snort, and Cassiopeia raised another fine eyebrow, this one in surprise, as she had expected some measure of anger or embarrassment, not a chuff, and certainly not a rueful grin to follow.

"Who knew Potter had it in him," he mirthfully said.

There weren't many times that Cassiopeia could recall feeling unadulterated pride for her cousin, but this, to her, was certainly one of them.

"You're not angry with yourself?" she quietly asked, giving the boy a small, soft smile for his mature reaction.

"Of course not," he replied, widening his grin. "I finally dragged Potter down to my level, Cass. In a way, I won. Don't you see?"

"In...a way, I suppose you did," she responded, feeling a tad shocked that he'd figured such out before her.

'He's maturing before my eyes,' she warmly thought, watching as her cousin took two steps forward and sat upon her bed shoulder to shoulder with her proud, happy form. 'Maybe, just maybe, he'll soon outgrow this silly rivalry between him and Potter. Maybe...but probably not...'