The Pureblood Squib Chapter 1
Octavia Zabini always knew she was different. Growing up in one of wealthiest and most respected pureblood families in all of the Wizarding World, she always just felt that little bit different than those around her. Especially her own family.
The Zabini's were a pureblood family of Italian ancestry; that fact was illustrated greatly in their appearances alone. Except Octavia, of course.
Her parents, Mediana and Leonardo Zabini, demonstrated the same Italian genetics as her brother, Blaise. All three sported black, straight hair and flawlessly tanned skin with masculine yet handsome features. Octavia, on the other hand, had milky white skin and tight blonde ringlets to boot. Her heart-shaped face was accentuated with her feminine plump pink lips and wide hazel doe-eyes. She certainly didn't look the part of a Zabini.
Due to her contrasting appearance to her other family members, speculation of Octavia's true origin was whispered indiscreetly within the shadows of pureblood society. But she had grown accustomed to that over the years. Now, she merely ignored the rumours. One day, she was an illegitimate child from her father's mistress (which he didn't have). The next, she was secretly adopted from Adela Yaxley at the very moment of her birth. Although, the second rumour appeared to be the most accepted of the lot.
Even Octavia wondered if it were true or not at times. Particularly when the details emerged over her eleven years. She would never voice her thoughts to her parents, however.
Leonardo and Mediana Zabini were absolutely adamant that Octavia was their biological daughter. They claimed that she inherited her appearance from Leonardo's great great grandmother who was actually a French woman.
Anytime Blaise would imply that they were not related, however, his punishments were severe. Well, severe for her family anyway. Usually it just meant that Draco Malfoy was not allowed to visit him for a week or so, while Octavia got to have her friends over every day. Sometimes, if he was really naughty, his Nimbus 2000 would be confiscated. That appeared to upset Blaise most of all. An effective punishment indeed.
Speaking of her unidentical twin brother, Octavia scowled as he shoved passed her, his shoulder colliding harshly with her own.
"Blaise!" Octavia whined, scurrying to keep up with her brother as she rubbed her shoulder. "I'm telling daddy!"
"Go away, O!" Blaise snapped, keeping his brisk pace as he and Draco made their way toward Quality Quidditch Supplies.
"Mummy said you're supposed to stay with me," Octavia scowled, her little legs moving quickly to keep their hurried pace.
Octavia frowned as Draco muttered something in Blaise's ear, both of them erupting into cruel laughter that was evidently at her expense. She hated them both on days like this. Whenever those two got together, they made it their priority to either pick on her, or exclude her. Both treatments stung greatly.
It never changed. It had always been that way, and always would be she assumed. Except when Blaise wasn't around, Draco was entirely different. He was kind and sweet to her. But his kindness washed away the very moment someone else was with them.
"We're supposed to go and look at wands," Octavia whined, stomping behind them dramatically. Her baby pink robes handcrafted in Milan by fairies billowed behind her, her blonde ringlets bouncing as she tried to keep up with the boys.
"Why don't you go look at wands," Blaise sneered as he spun around to face her, Draco mirroring his actions. "You need one more than we do."
Octavia pouted as his words sliced through her. It was no secret that Octavia's magical abilities were latent, but mummy had promised her that she would be fine once she went to Hogwarts. It was at Hogwarts that she would learn how to do magic. Mummy said that she was a 'late bloomer', and that nothing was wrong with that. But whenever her parents weren't around, Blaise and Draco didn't hesitate to mock her over her lack of magical abilities. Only when the two of them were together, of course. For when it was just Draco and her, he would comfort and soothe her.
"You have the galleons," Octavia murmured, making feeble excuses to stay with her brother. While he was cruel to her when Draco was around, he was her best friend and she wanted to go with them.
"Shame," Blaise grinned widely before turning and taking off at a sprint toward the Quidditch shop.
Draco watched Blaise run away, his brow furrowed as he turned his attention back to the watery eyed Octavia.
"Here," Draco frowned, his hand fishing in his robes to retrieve money.
Octavia smiled as Draco handed her a fistful of galleons, snatching them greedily from his pale palm.
"I want to go with you," Octavia murmured, her sparkly hazel eyes fixed on his grey orbs.
"Go to Ollivander's," Draco instructed, his tone soft as his blonde hair brushed over his brow. "We'll meet you there in thirty minutes."
Octavia pouted as she stuffed the galleons into her robe pocket, her wild curls faming her pretty dejected face.
"Fifteen minutes?" Draco offered, his silvery eyes fixed on her gloomy expression.
Nodding slightly, Octavia flickered her eyes into his gaze, blushing as he smiled in response. Her face burned, her blush increasing tenfold as Draco stepped toward her, his lips connecting with her pink cheek softly. He sometimes did that when Blaise wasn't around. Kissed her. Once, it was on the lips as they hid in the Manor gardens. A sweet kiss that she still thought of frequently.
"Wait for us," Draco instructed, stepping away from her. "Do not go anywhere except the wand store, ok?"
"Ok," Octavia nodded, her pink face glowing with embarrassment as the feel of his lips still lingered on her cheek.
Draco made no move to leave, causing Octavia to assume that he would watch her walk away to ensure that she followed his command. She did.
Sparing him one last glance, Octavia willed her blush to disappear as she turned and skipped away toward the wand store. Draco watched her go, his grey eyes fixed on her magnificent curls as they bounced and glistened in the sunlight.
"Try this one, Ms. Granger," Ollivander said as he handed a bushy-haired girl a thin and crooked wand.
Octavia quietly closed the door to the shop behind her, watching with evident fascination as the wand shot out red sparks at the girl's touch, blasting the shelves clean off of the wall behind the flinching wandmaker.
"I suppose not," Ollivander mused, gently taking the wand from the girl's small hand.
The bushy haired girl bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet as Ollivander disappeared through the shelves. Octavia's hazel eyes scanned the girl as she frowned, not entirely sure what to make of her attire. The girl wore strange blue trousers and a red lumpy sweater. She must be a muggle-born. Octavia didn't mind muggle-borns, however. She just didn't know much about them, other than that they came from muggle families.
"Hermione, dear," a muggle woman spoke, Octavia noticing that she was clad in similar attire to the girl. "Your father and I are just going to pop into the café for some coffees. Would you like a hot chocolate?"
"Yes, please." The girl named 'Hermione' answered, turning to nod at her parents. At least Octavia assumed they were her parents. The woman had blonde frizzy hair and the man had brown wavy hair. So it made sense that this frizzy haired brunette was their child.
Hermione spotted Octavia by the door, the former of the two smiling.
"Hello," Hermione spoke, an air of superiority instantly transpiring around her. "I'm Hermione Granger. And you are?"
Octavia smiled as she skipped over to the friendly, albeit somewhat self-important, girl.
"Hi," Octavia smiled, extending her sticky hand. Perhaps there was a little residue from her sweets on her sticky fingers. She didn't mind. "I'm Octavia Zabini."
"Pleasure to meet you, Octavia." Hermione smiled, shaking her hand firmly.
"Are you a muggle-born?" Octavia asked, her hazel eyes flickering over the girl's clothing once more.
"Oh," Hermione frowned fleetingly, rather taken off guard by the question. "I … yes, I come from a family of muggles."
"But you're a witch?"
"Yes, I am."
"That's nice," Octavia smiled warmly, excited to meet her first muggle-born. "Are you going to Hogwarts this year?"
A lot of people in pureblood society did not think very highly of muggles or magical folk of muggle heritage, but Octavia never really understood why, nor did she share their negative sentiments.
"Oh, yes," Hermione nodded, her brown eyes sparkling with excitement. "And yourself?"
"Yeah," Octavia nodded, her eyes flickering back to the shelves as Ollivander re-emerged.
"Ms. Zabini," Ollivander greeted warmly. "How lovely to see you. You have certainly grown, my dear child."
Octavia nodded vigorously as he stretched up on her tip-toes, emphasising her height. The last time she had seen Ollivander had been three years ago at pureblood society ball. It may have been the Malfoy's ball. Whatever, it had been years.
"Wait just a moment, won't you?" Ollivander asked, Octavia inclining her head in response.
She had to maintain her manners around him, lest he tell on her to her mother at the next pureblood gathering.
"Now, Ms. Granger," Ollivander spoke as he delicately handed Hermione a wand. "This is a vine-wood wand, with dragon heart-string. It is 10 ¾ inches. Very powerful indeed, so exercise caution."
Octavia watched excitedly as Hermione took the wand gently, the three of them waiting with anticipation. Hermione waved the wand once, a mass of petals erupting from the tip instantly, causing Octavia to squeal and clap her hands together in applause. Given that Octavia had not displayed any childhood magic, she was always rather fascinated by watching others perform it. Her excitement was, however, as always, laced with envy and resentment. No matter. She would be able to perform her own magic at Hogwarts. Mummy said so.
"Wonderful, wonderful," Ollivander declared approvingly as Octavia applauded.
"That was so pretty," Octavia sighed, eyeing the petals that lay on the floor.
"Thank you," Hermione grinned, her gaze locked onto the wand as power surged through her body.
"How does it feel?" Octavia asked interestedly.
"Right." Hermione nodded firmly. "It feels right … I feel … complete."
"My turn!" Octavia declared, flicking her curls out of her face as Mr. Ollivander nodded in response. "I want a wand!"
"Yes, yes, Ms. Zabini," Ollivander chuckled. "Wait just a moment, please."
Octavia huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest, frowning as she pouted her lips. She really hated being told to wait.
"Octavia!" A shout sounded behind her, the door chime singing at the same time.
Octavia rolled her eyes as she turned around, Draco Malfoy leaning against the doorframe with a smirk plastered on his handsome face.
"What?" Octavia snapped, much too absorbed in wand-shopping to pay him much attention.
"Your mother is requesting your presence at Twilfitt and Tattings." Draco drawled, smirking as Octavia's stomped her foot.
"No! I'm shopping. Go away!" Octavia whined.
"Do not hex the messenger, O." Draco raised his hands in submission, eyeing her playfully as she groaned dramatically.
"Nice to meet you, Hermione!" Octavia sang out, not sparing a second glance at the muggle-born witch as she scurried out of the store.
"It was nice to meet you too," Hermione responded, but Octavia didn't seem to hear her.
Octavia was too busy bickering with the blonde boy as they exited the shop. Although the blonde boy quickly grabbed Octavia's hand as they departed, Hermione watching through the window as they walked hand-in-hand out of sight.
The moment she stepped through the fireplace, Octavia took off at a run heading straight toward her bedroom as her parents watched her go with sadness in their dark eyes. Whilst Octavia purchased a wand that day, among other supplies for her attendance at Hogwarts, not a single wand chose her. No magic surged through her arm at the feel of a wand in her hand. And they had tried many many wands. Alas, her magic did not come. They promised her, as they had time and time again, that her magic would come to her one day. That she would discover her magic at Hogwarts, where she would attend to be educated in one week's time. It was uncommon for magic to stay dormant for so long, they all knew that. But they told her to wait all the same. Her magic would come.
Except Leonardo and Mediana Zabini knew that Octavia's magic would never come. It hadn't been there to begin with.
"Pansy!" Octavia shouted as she tottered out of the ensuite, wiping her damp hands on her ivory robes. "Do you think I should bring Iris or Plum with me to Hogwarts?"
Pansy frowned as she pondered O's question, her eyes flickering between the pets in question. Iris, a part-Kneazle cat, was currently snoring under the sofa in the bedroom, while Plum, a pygmy puff, was jumping up and down on the regal bed in the far corner. Both animals Pansy found to be rather bothersome the majority of the time.
"Perhaps it is best to leave them both here," Pansy drawled, eyeing Iris with disdain.
Pansy had never really gotten over Iris's attack on her a year ago. Octavia justified the part-Kneazle's behaviour, however, claiming that Pansy looked at the cat funny.
Octavia shrugged as she skipped over to Pansy who sat neatly on the white fur rug in the centre of the room. Octavia had demanded that her parents provide her extravagant purple and silver bedroom with furnishings that did not come from animals. They assured her that they would do as such. But Octavia had a sneaking suspicion that the rug was made out of unicorn hair, for it felt far too similar to her own unicorns in the gardens of the manor.
"I saw Draco yesterday," Pansy drawled, keeping her tone light.
Octavia blushed instantly as she seated herself across from Pansy, her lilac trunk placed between them.
"Oh?" Octavia responded, willing her blush to disappear as she began shoving robes into the trunk.
"Yes," Pansy smiled deviously, removing the scrunched up robes from the trunk to fold them neatly. "Our mothers enjoyed tea in the parlour."
"Oh," Octavia nodded, pretending not to be interested as she continued tossing things in the trunk.
"Draco mentioned that you purchased your wand." Pansy continued, neatly folding Octavia's robes with great care.
Honestly, Octavia had no consideration whatsoever for her belongings.
"Yeah," Octavia grimaced, stuffing a bunch of ballet-flats into her trunk.
"It did not work for you," Pansy continued, eyeing her friend curiously as Octavia bit her lip.
"Mummy said that it will when we get to Hogwarts," Octavia answered, her hazel orbs glued to her trunk.
"Perhaps," Pansy sighed, arranging the contents of the trunk precisely. "Perhaps not."
"It will," Octavia nodded.
"What if it does not?" Pansy asked. "Mother was speaking to father about it. Mother believes that you are a wizard-born."
"I'm not!" Octavia snapped, her furious hazel orbs on her close friend.
Pansy only sighed quietly in response, her pitying eyes on the friend that she had grown up with. For Octavia to be a wizard-born (usually referred to as a squib, although the term was rather offensive) would be rather dreadful indeed. For it meant that Octavia would be sent away, according to her mother. And Pansy did not wish for Octavia to be sent away. She wished to attend Hogwarts with her, as they had always talked about when they were younger. An exciting place. A place that Pansy wished to attend with Octavia. Her best friend, wizard-born or not.
"Never mind," Pansy waved her hand dismissively. "It does not matter."
Octavia scowled, finding that it did matter. Very much, actually. But she remained silent nevertheless, opting to focus her attention on closing her trunk. A difficult task indeed, considering how many books and clothes she had stuffed into it.
"Here," Pansy smiled, slipping out her wand. "Let me."
"You're not supposed to use your wand," Octavia scolded, her jealousy evident in her hazel eyes.
"I won't tell if you won't," Pansy smirked wickedly, flicking her wand at the trunk.
Octavia crossed her arms over her chest as the lilac trunk snapped shut, the straps instantly fastening at the sides.
"You're gonna get in trouble for that," Octavia huffed.
"Father will take care of it," Pansy laughed lightly, entirely uncaring about performing underage magic.
That was not the first spell she had performed with her wand outside of Hogwarts. Nor would it be the last.
Ah, the life of a pureblood was sweet indeed.
"Sit up straight, dear." Mediana Zabini ordered as Octavia slumped in her chair.
Emitting a groan, Octavia scowled as she straightened her posture, her chin raised elegantly – although somewhat snooty – as she sat at the grand dining table. Blaise, seated opposite her, smirked mockingly.
"Yes, O." Blaise drawled, regaining his impassive composure. "Wherever are your manners?"
"Up your ass," Octavia muttered, her parents gasping audibly in response.
"Octavia Zabini!" Leonardo snapped, slamming his hand down on the table. "That is no way for a lady to speak! Apologise this moment!"
Octavia scowled as she met Blaise's mischievous gaze, resisting the urge to haul her mashed potatoes at her prat of a brother. It was him that taught her the expression that day.
"I apologise, Blaise." Octavia spoke robotically, no remorse whatsoever in her tone. "Please forgive my inappropriate language."
"Forgiven, dear sister." Blaise grinned widely, taking great delight in her anger. "Perhaps you should think before you speak, however."
Octavia's face burned red as her grip on her fork tightened, her anger radiating from her pores. The twins gazed at one another ferociously, although Blaise masked his deviousness with feigned disinterest.
"Are you quite alright, O?" Blaise asked sweetly.
"Yeah," Octavia snapped. "I'm fine, stronzo."
"Octavia!" Mediana gasped, her hand placed on her heart.
"What?" Octavia frowned, meeting her mother's shocked gaze as Blaise erupted into laughter.
"You will not use that word again!" Leonardo bellowed, Octavia flinching in response as tears welled up in her eyes.
Blaise had assured her that her parents did not know the meaning of that word. He said that 'stronzo' was a secret word that he and Draco used occasionally. A word that they had created. Little did she know, the word was Italian for 'asshole' or some variation of it.
Leonardo and Mediana shared a concerned glance with one another whilst Octavia cried silently, pushing her food around her plate absentmindedly. They did not wish to berate their daughter that they loved so dearly, however it appeared that she was beginning to act out. Perhaps seeking attention? Her feelings of inadequacy were evident in her attitude and misbehaviours. They feared that it would only worsen over time.
"Ahem," Mediana cleared her throat, turning her strained eyes to her son. "Have you packed for Hogwarts, dear?"
"Yes, mother." Blaise nodded firmly.
"And you, Octavia?" Mediana asked lightly, utterly despising the sight of her daughter in silent tears. Although her outright sobbing fits were indisputably the worst of them all.
"Yeah," Octavia nodded, pushing her blocks of steamed pumpkin away in disgust. She simply despised pumpkin.
"Wonderful," Mediana smiled weakly. "Have you selected your subjects yet, dear?"
"Uh huh," Octavia nodded, forgetting her sadness instantly as excitement took over. "I picked charms, potions and transfiguration. And then I picked defence against the dark arts and astronomy. And flying."
"Those are the core subjects," Blaise drawled, reclining in his chair as he sipped his goblet of pumpkin juice. She almost gagged at the thought of the putrid liquid. "Those subjects are chosen for you."
Octavia scowled at him, knowing full well what he was up to.
"What subjects did you choose, Octavia?" Leonardo asked, sipping his fire whiskey leisurely.
"I uh … picked … um …" Octavia mumbled, averting her gaze. "Ancient Ruins."
"Very good," her father nodded approvingly.
"One more," Blaise smirked. "We have to select two extra subjects. That is only one."
Octavia huffed as her parents gazed curiously at her, Blaise grinning widely.
"What was the other one, dear?" Her mother asked softly, unable to keep the trepidation from seeping into her tone.
"Muggle studies," Octavia murmured, her body tensing as silence washed over the family.
"I see," her father spoke coldly after a few moments of dreadfully awkward silence. "I do not recall purchasing the textbooks for that subject."
"That's because Octavia asked Draco to buy them for her whilst you were distracted, father." Blaise drawled, his dark eyes glistening with amusement. "I saw him purchase the books for her, but of course, he denied it. Yet, when I visited Octavia's bedroom today, I found myself rather surprised to see those very same books packed away in her trunk."
"BLAISE!" Octavia yelled, tossing her bread roll at him. "SHUT UP!"
"OCTAVIA ZABINI!" Leonardo roared, standing from his chair. "YOU WILL RETIRE TO YOUR BEDROOM THIS INSTANT AND CEASE YOUR CHILDISH BEHAVIOUR!"
Octavia's face scrunched up as she began to sob, pushing herself from the table before she turned and ran out of the dining hall. Her family left to dine in silence, not one of them speaking a word.
Octavia sat on the plush window seat that was generously decorated with lush blankets and feathery cushions. Her bare feet were tucked under her bottom as she gazed out into the gardens, her teary hazel orbs watching as her many unicorns pranced around brilliantly.
"O?" Blaise's voice sounded out as the door to the bedroom opened quietly.
Octavia ignored him, keeping her gaze fixed on her pets in the gardens.
"O, listen." Blaise sighed, closing the door behind him. "I'm sorry."
Again, she ignored him.
He stepped toward her, his footsteps muffled by the lush white carpeting of her grand bedroom. She pursed her lips together as he approached, Blaise climbing up onto the window seat to join her.
"Why did you tell on me?" Octavia asked, her brows furrowing as she continued to gaze out of the window.
"It's not fair." Blaise whispered, his tone quiet and remorseful. "You get away with everything."
"I don't." Octavia frowned, meeting his eyes. "I got in trouble."
"You were sent to your room," Blaise scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "If I chose Muggle Studies, father would have me change my selection instantly. But not you."
Octavia titled her head as she observed him, seeing the jealousy swarm in his dark eyes. She knew her brother well enough to know what he was feeling. And it wasn't just about their parents' treatment of her.
"Draco is nice to you, too." Blaise continued, clenching his jaw slightly. "I saw him with you."
"Huh?" Octavia frowned, her face scrunching up in confusion.
"Three weeks ago, in the gardens." Blaise continued. "At Malfoy Manor. He kissed you."
"Oh," Octavia blushed, recalling the memory with clarity.
It was the first time he had kissed her on the lips, his nerves wracking his body before he ran away the moment their kiss ended.
"Did you want him to kiss you?" Octavia teased, but her genuine curiosity shone brightly in her eyes.
"No," Blaise laughed.
"Then … I don't … understand."
"He's my friend, O." Blaise sighed, gazing out of the window. "He's my friend. But he prefers you. He likes you."
"I don't get it," Octavia frowned.
"Mother and father prefer you." Blaise continued as though she hadn't spoken. "Pansy and Astoria prefer you."
"They're girls," Octavia shrugged. "They're my friends. And mum and dad don't like me better, so don't say that."
"My friends like you more than they like me." Blaise continued, ignoring her words.
"Like who?" Octavia asked cheekily, her brow raised.
"Draco, Theo and Adrian." Blaise clipped, listing his three closest friends.
"So you're being mean because they like me?" Octavia asked with evident confusion.
"It's just …" Blaise sighed. "When we go to Hogwarts … what if they only want to be friends with you?"
"You're so silly," Octavia giggled, shifting to stretch her legs out over Blaise. "They're your friends. They like you."
Blaise nodded, his gaze flickering back to his sister.
"I'm sorry." Blaise smiled weakly.
Octavia smiled in response, accepting his apology instantly. Like she always did.
"Are you scared?" Octavia asked, wiggling her toes slightly. "About going to Hogwarts?"
"No." Blaise shook his head, his tone confident. But Octavia saw right through him.
"I am," Octavia admitted. "What if I'm put in Gryffindor? Or Hufflepuff?"
"Then mother and father will disinherit you," Blaise smirked wickedly.
"Shut up," Octavia frowned.
"It doesn't matter what house you are sorted into," Blaise laughed. "Father says that the Sorting Hat is never wrong, and you're definitely a Slytherin."
"You promise?" Octavia asked, wishing to follow in her family's footsteps. They were all Slytherins.
"Cross my heart," Blaise said as he spit into his hand and extended it to Octavia.
"Or eat Hippogriff dung," Octavia spoke, spitting into her own hand.
Octavia and Blaise clasped their hands together, shaking firmly as their spit merged together. Octavia had read about the little ritual in the muggle book that she had found in the gutter of Diagon Alley four years ago. She had since taught Blaise the handshake, both of them employing it when they made an oath to one another.
The 'Twin Oath' as they called it.
Draco stalked through the halls of Malfoy Manor, headed toward his father's study to request a visit to the Zabini's home. He would claim that he wished to enjoy a game of Quidditch – despite the rainstorm – with Blaise, as he always did. But in actual fact, he was hoping to catch a glimpse or two of Blaise's sister; Octavia Zabini.
Following their outing to Diagon Alley a few days ago, Draco had been consumed with thoughts of the girl. But that was normal for him.
Octavia had been rather downcast to discover that no wand reacted to her touch, and vice versa. Of course, in true Draco fashion, he had mocked and teased her in the wand-store. But his heart ached for the girl, truly wishing to comfort her as tears streamed down her face. Perhaps her magic would come to her at Hogwarts, he hoped. He was not sure how much longer he could endure her self-pity at being unable to perform magic. Each time her hazel eyes filled with agony, his heart clenched wretchedly.
His hopes remained high, however. He had to believe that her magic would come to her. The alternative was … unthinkable.
The chances of Octavia Zabini being a squib (or the more politically correct term; wizard-born) was appearing more and more likely with each passing year. No signs of magic had yet to transpire with the girl. But Draco would not think of that possible outcome. For if she was a squib, it was likely that the Zabinis would disown and banish her, and pureblood society would reject her. It was the way things were done. Squibs were a wretched anomaly, things to be swept under the rug and never spoken of again. A horrid scandal that was not to be wished upon any person, friend or foe.
A squib had been born into his family two generations ago. His mother's side, according to the Black family records. Marius Black; the third child of Cygnus Black II and Violetta Bulstrode. While squibs retain their pureblood status in a sense – for the blood that courses through their veins is pure regardless of their lack of magical abilities – they are viewed as vermin. An unwanted plague and abomination.
Draco made to push open the ajar door to his father's study, but stopped dead in his tracks the moment his own thoughts were voiced. But by his mother and father, no less.
"Mediana is simply beside herself," his mother's sweet voice sang out gracefully.
"Why do they not banish the girl?" Lucius drawled.
"I believe they are holding on to hope, Lucius. They hope that by sending Octavia to Hogwarts that her magic will emerge."
"Then they are fools." Lucius drawled, the distaste evident in his cold tone.
"Indeed," Narcissa's graceful sigh sang out. "The Longbottom boy showed no signs of magic until recently, also. I believe that they are hoping for the same outcome; dormant magic that will emerge in time."
"The girl is a squib," Lucius drawled. "They are foolish to hope otherwise. To prolong this endeavour will only be detrimental to their reputation."
"Draco is rather fond of the girl," Narcissa spoke lightly.
"I am aware of that fact, Narcissa." Lucius drawled.
"What shall we do?"
"We do nothing. Draco will come to realise what she is in time. It is then that he will cease his attempts to begin negotiations with the Zabinis."
Draco frowned, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he listened. Yes, he had pestered his parents relentlessly to have his marriage contracts discussed with Leonardo Zabini in regards to Octavia. Yet, if what his parents were saying was the truth, marriage arrangements with Octavia Zabini was simply out of the question. She would be exiled and he would never see her again. His heart ached wretchedly at the thought. But what could be done? She was a squib, according to his parents. Nothing could be done.
It appeared that Draco would be uniting with Astoria Greengrass after all. While the girl was attractive and intelligent, she was not Octavia. In saying that, however, at least she was a witch. Octavia, on the other hand, was not.
He now understood his parents' reluctance to begin negotiations with the Zabinis. They have evidently suspected Octavia's magical status for some time now. For Draco had been insistent on the matter for three years.
"It is rather cruel to send the girl to Hogwarts," Narcissa continued. "It would be much kinder to refer her to a muggle school."
Draco blanched at the thought, disgust washing over him at the thought of Octavia in the muggle world. Would she wear their peculiar clothes? Would she befriend muggles? Surely not.
But … she did persuade him to purchase books for her 'Muggle Studies' class. A task he would not have performed for anyone but her. Perhaps she was … preparing?
Draco shuddered, the thought that he may have assisted Octavia in her preparations for the muggle world utterly repulsed him.
"If it were Draco," Lucius drawled, "perhaps you would feel differently."
Draco's breath hitched as his parent's fell into silence. What would they do if he were a squib? Would they disown him and send him to the muggle world? Would they pretend he never existed, like so many other pureblood families have done in the past when a squib entered their bloodline? Surely not. His mother adored him.
He almost scoffed aloud. To even consider it was downright ludicrous. He could never be a squib. His magic was great and had incredible potential. At age eleven, he had already harnessed his power, able to channel it without the aid of a wand. His father's lessons had ensured that. Draco was certainly the epitome of a pureblood wizard. Strong, powerful and pure.
Unlike Octavia Zabini. She was weak with no magical abilities. And her pure blood mattered naught, for she was a squib. A filthy little squib.