"I'm sure they were lucky to have you there."
Rhiannon smiled. "Oh, stop now. I was lucky to get a place there, that's the truth."
Well, at least he was clear now on why she hadn't attended Hogwarts. She'd wanted the chance to develop her musical abilities, that was all. She'd probably got her letter and talked it over with her parents and they'd all decided together that Chatham was the best choice, given her particular situation.
It wasn't as though Hogwarts would prepare you to sing lead opera, after all.
She'd probably learned magic from her parents, though since he still did think they were all passing, he'd be willing to bet that they'd only taught her the bare essentials. A pity she hadn't had any chance to go to Hogwarts . . . he did wonder about that, though. Had she never been tempted, even a little, to pour her energy into magic instead of music?
Though of course he was sure that part of her voice talent came from the fact that she had magic inside her. Untapped, perhaps, but it was there. It had to be. So had she ever wanted proper schooling to develop it? Perhaps she had, and her parents had forbidden it.
But how to find out for sure? The last thing he wanted to do, after all, was offend her by implying that she should have gone to a wizarding school.
Hmm. Best to be Slytherin about it. Draco took another sip of tea, then casually asked, "Was Chatham a boarding school?"
"There were some day students, but I boarded." Rhiannon laughed a little. "How could I get to London from here every day, I'd like to know."
She didn't even know about Apparition? Draco could feel his eyebrows lifting. Though of course, maybe she just meant that she wasn't licensed back then. And still wasn't, if her family was insisting that their magical abilities be kept secret . . .
"Well, you know," he said, giving her a conspiratorial look. "There are ways."
She giggled, sounding like she thought he was joking. "Like what? Star Trek transporter?"
Draco didn't know what she meant. He had a sudden feeling that he'd put his foot in it. But he bravely pressed on, flashing her what he thought of as his most charming grin. "If you wish hard enough, you can make it from here to London in nothing flat."
Another giggle. "That might have come in handy."
Draco hid his frown, but inside he was perplexed. He'd given her every opportunity to tell him the truth. There were alone in the cafÈ, except for the waiter who had quite properly realised that this was a private conversation and his hovering wasn't desired. And Draco had practically said out loud that he was a wizard.
So why was she still holding back?
Perhaps it was time to be more direct. "You don't believe in magic?"
Rhiannon blinked. "Uh no . . . do you?"
"Sure." Draco flashed her another grin, then lowered his voice just in case that waiter was nosier than he seemed. "Want to see my wand?"
She actually recoiled, her chair skidding backwards a couple of inches. "I thought you were a nice young man!"
She said it like she had thought that and didn't any longer. Even more perplexed, Draco couldn't quite hide his frown, that time. "What . . . Rhiannon, are you afraid of magic?"
A scoffing noise. "Magic . . . if that's some kind of new line you're using to get girls, it's not very good. What's next, you're going to claim there's magic in the air? Do I look that stupid?"
How daft. There wasn't magic in the air at all. It came from inside them. She'd know that, if she'd attended Hogwarts. Actually, she should know that much even if she hadn't. Some things were obvious.
Perhaps they weren't, though, to the completely unschooled. Just how little had her parents taught her, for Merlin's sake?
He suddenly realised why she'd all but jumped back when he'd mentioned his wand. She'd thought he meant his . . . Draco swallowed. This wasn't going well at all, and he really didn't want her thinking he was quite so uncouth as to talk about his . . . and on a first date, no less!
"Look, when I mentioned my wand, I really did mean my wand," he said, pulling it out and placing it on the table between them.
"Oh." Rhiannon blushed, the colour seeping into her cheeks giving her a sort of glow. "Er, sorry. I thought you meant . . . never mind. But . . ." She glanced down at the pale length of the wand, her forehead furrowing. "I don't get it. You're not serious, are you? You carry a wand about with you? What for?"
Draco raised an eyebrow, about as surprised as he'd ever been. So that was the way the wind blew, eh? Well, no wonder she seemed to know so little about magic. The truth was, she didn't know anything at all. For one long moment, Draco wanted to strangle her parents. Hiding your magic from everyone, Muggle and wizard alike, was one thing, but to not even teach your daughter the first thing about her own powers?
With that, the truth dawned on him, and he felt like he might fall out of his chair. She didn't know about her own powers.
She didn't know she was a witch . . .
Perhaps her parents didn't know, either. Not about her, and not about themselves. Perhaps her family had hidden and repressed their magic generations back, the better to hide their special talents. It could even be that they'd employed spells to that effect, hundreds of years ago, spells that would attach to the family line and follow it until the end of time.
Draco had heard stories about that. Legends, he'd always thought them. But they were true, after all. Rhiannon was proof of it.
A girl who could sing like a siren and yet didn't realise that she wasn't anything like the Muggles who stood alongside her on that stage.
She was still waiting to hear why he carried a wand, and Draco knew in that moment that he could lose her, for all time, if he wasn't careful. If she didn't believe in magic, if she didn't have the least idea that it existed . . . well, claiming to be a wizard wouldn't be a very good move, would it? She'd think he was mental.
Best to introduce her gradually to her true heritage. Or at the very least, best to talk to Harry about the matter. He'd been in Rhiannon's position once, more or less. He'd been a wizard and hadn't realised. The only thing that was odd about Rhiannon was that as far as he knew, she wasn't an orphan. She didn't talk as though she was one, at any rate.
Draco forced a laugh. "Oh, the wand. I . . . er, I . . . well . . ."
Merlin be cursed, why couldn't he think of a single thing to say? Harry always called him a bad liar, but he wasn't usually as tongue-tied as all this, was he?
Rhiannon suddenly smiled. "Oh, Draco. After what I told you, about my school, you can't think I'd be such a snob, can you? I love opera, but it's not like I think it's the only thing fit to grace a stage."
It wasn't often that Draco felt completely lost in a conversation, but she'd sure lost him with that remark. He did his best to pretend as though he'd followed every word. "You don't?"
"Of course not." Rhiannon stroked the tablecloth with her fingers, looking as though she'd like to take his hands but was simply too shy. "Silly. There's nothing wrong with being a stage magician."
For another long moment, Draco still felt adrift at sea. Stage magician? What was she on about? When the truth dawned on him, he felt almost nauseated. There were Muggles who pretended to be able to do magic . . . yeah, he had a dim memory of Lucius mentioning something about that. And Harry thought that Muggles weren't jealous of wizards! Why on earth would some of them be stage magicians, if not because they knew perfectly well that a whole magical world existed and they were locked out of it, and they wanted in?