Diamonds

9. Such Treatment

"So, what did your girlfriend do?"

"Future wife," Draco corrected automatically. It was the final class of Tuesday afternoon, and he'd yet to solve Hermione's riddle. Saying that he was tense would be an understatement. "Pass me the asphodel, would you?"

Blaise Zabini's dark fingers slid across the pitted wood of their shared table, scooped up the handful of powdered root and dumped it on the desk in front of Draco. "I'm just saying, she's getting a lot of glares. More than usual. She must have done something to annoy the Gryffindors."

"I need the measure. Pass it over."

Blaise did as he asked, then tapped the desk, drumming out a familiar tune. Draco flicked a glance towards his fingers, frowning at the other Slytherin. "Is that Celestina Warbeck?"

"My mother had You Stole My Cauldron, But You Can't Have My Heart on repeat for six months before I got my Hogwarts letter. It grows on you after the first three." The tapping didn't stop. "No, I really want to know, Draco. Why is Potter's pet glaring at her?"

"He won't be glaring at her once I have a free hand to pick up my wand," Draco muttered under his breath. "Can I have that knife?"

The knife exchanged hands, and Blaise stopped tapping. "You know, it's funny how fond you are of her. I mean, what with the Malfoy name meaning what it means."

"What's that?"

"Bad faith, mostly. The stories I heard all said your family were quite fond of muggle royalty until the Statute of Secrecy went through. After a whole lot of fuss over Merlin knows what, probably not wanting to change his social habits, Titus Malfoy was slain, Brutus took over the family, and suddenly muggles were hated and always had been- at least that's what he and everyone he knew said. So the Malfoy's are supposed to be muggle-hating traitors."

"She's not a muggle, she's a muggle-born. Bit of a difference. Where's the pestle?"

Blaise slipped the pestle out of the sleeve of his robe, looking up to see Draco's raised eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing." The blonde took the pestle and applied it to the mortar, grinding the asphodel more finely.

"That's what I thought. Anyway, about Hermione."

If the chairs at the potions table would allow it, Blaise would have been spinning slightly, turning back and forth. Just the idea of it was enough to annoy his partner. "Think this is fine enough?"

"You're the one who's obsessed with beating your girlfriend at Potions."

"Future wife."

"Bless you, you think it matters. Ha! What did she do?" Blaise was technically a migrant. He'd been raised in Venice for years, then Paris, and then Madrid, and had only moved to London six months prior to receiving his Hogwarts letter: his entire knowledge of the Malfoys was based on what his mother remembered from meeting Narcissa and Lucius at a few parties before she moved to Italy to be with her fourth husband. Perhaps it was this that lead to Draco befriending the dark-skinned boy. Or perhaps Draco was more tempted by things that would cause him grief than was healthy.

Either way, he sighed and explained quickly about the blackmail, leaving out the reason, largely because he didn't know it yet. All the while, he worked away at the potion, determined to beat Hermione. And that would not count if Professor Snape was the one who declared his Vitamix Potion better, because he already knew he was being treated with favourism.

Blaise listened to the story, his face impassive. When it ended, he grinned. "I didn't think she had it in her. Just remember that what goes around often comes back around."