Out of Time

Chapter 5

Because they aren't any two normal students. They could never be. Back in March, they were as close to that as they could have ever been - just two students being assigned joint projects and revision across myriad NEWT lessons. But not any longer. How fast things have changed makes Draco's head spin.

Mudblood to Muggle-born. Granger to Hermione. Potter's Princess to his princess. His... precious witch. His.

('I am not yours like that')

Bollocks, Theo hasn't even held her hand in the hallways between classes yet, hasn't even kissed her on the cheek when releasing her. How can Draco ever do this? He curses internally, trying to force himself into line.

Theo's busy answering Blaise's latest question, about whether Hermione seems to show any aversions to Slytherins or if she's playing her part in all this. Theo tells Blaise, both of them ignoring Draco as if he's a wall sconce, that she did ask, and that he'd expected her to. It's reasonable that she would. And Theo says he was honest, that it's obvious she's not inferior to any of them in any sort of way, that her magic is clearly strong (if not possessing some of the strongest magic in the whole school) and that between his fiend of a father and her, it's obvious who deserves their place in wizarding society.

Blaise is as silently stunned as Draco is.

"You... told her that?" Zabini finally manages, a shaky hand over his mouth.

Theo blanches. "Do you disagree?"

Draco doesn't. He can't, not any longer. He can admit to himself that whatever nonsense Lucius raised him with was absolutely ridiculous. Even if the (extremely reasonable) argument of Dumbledore favouring the Gryffindors, namely Potter-and-Co, is true, Draco knows she's talented. His upbringing says her magic should be a joke. Not an illusion, necessarily, but something she shouldn't be able to wield with any competence. But she overcame an eleven-year knowledge deficit to be top of their class, and it wasn't a fluke.

There are other Muggle-borns in the school, of course. But it only lends credibility to the knowledge that they didn't end up with their magic by accident. Even if it was some gigantic genetic mistake, some kind of magical lottery they all won, their sheer ability to wield it without any prior childhood exposure shows that the skill must be outside blood and base genetics.

Draco's no idiot. Anybody with a brain can look around at pureblood society and see it's a dwindling population with dwindling prospects. Every family is intermarried, and there's no possible way to spin that to a positive advantage.

He admits he didn't care to look at it deeply enough until he met a witch who challenged all those stereotypes. Apparently Theodore Nott was, though, and he tries to stomach this knowledge, too.

Had Zabini? Draco is deeply curious. Blaise tends to stay uninvolved from the blood purity discussions (in the past two years, these have evolved more into rallies) that occur in the Slytherin common room from time to time. Blaise's mother has married seven times, and Draco knows they've been mostly half-bloods. But none of the unions produced children - other than her initial marriage to Blaise's father - and he wonders if one Lady Zabini holds some of those pureblood views when it comes to procreation.

"I don't... disagree, necessarily," Blaise says furtively, dropping his voice to a lower register and looking over his shoulder. "Obviously, she's talented. And obviously, she's hot. But if we're talking about this seriously, that still doesn't mean I'd want her."

Draco's split perfectly down the middle with raging offence at the statement and a vibrant flood of relief. His wand hand twitches around his quill.

"Suit yourself, Zabini," Theo says, raising his voice in turn. Draco glances around and sees that Goyle's made an entrance. Time to crank up the performance. "But I quite fancy her. Maybe she can teach me a few things, eh?"