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“Mother, Pansy said that we had blue blood.”
Narcissa
looked down at him. Draco was sitting by her chair, eyes fixed on some point across the room.
“We are purebloods,”
she said cautiously.
“But Mother, my blood is red. I saw it when I cut my finger yesterday.”
“Draco,
it’s like saying that you’re a pureblood. You can’t see it just by looking but you know that it’s
true because you can look at the family tree and see the bloodline, your bloodline, spreading back through the centuries.”
He
turned, smiling.
“My blood’s bluer than Pansy’s.”
A future Slytherin, indeed.
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