Besides, learning that he was a wizard was one thing. Finding out that she wasn't what she'd always believed herself to be . . . that was something else again. She'd need to discover that on her own.
Draco could help, but he didn't think he could convince her, not all on her own. She needed to find the truth inside herself.
"Can I . . ." Rhiannon cleared her throat. "Can I see your wand? It's real, right? What am I saying . . . of course it's real."
Draco's plan all along had been to hand her his wand so she could feel it resonating to the thrum of her own magic . . . that wouldn't happen now, of course. She wasn't relaxed and happy and in a receptive state. She was dazed by all of this, though handling it remarkably well. But then, Draco was only confirming what she'd known in her soul, all along.
Magic was indeed real.
He handed her his wand and started to explain. "It channels magic. Wands have cores that come from magical animals. Phoenixes, dragons--"
"Oh, my God. Dragons?"
Perhaps she was more shocked than Draco had realised. She'd suddenly lost a good bit of colour. Draco shrugged, and tried to help her see the world the way he did. The way she should have seen it, all along. "Oh yes. Dragons are real enough. Harry even battled one, once, as part of a magic competition."
"Oh, my God. Dragons," she said again, a little more weakly. She waved the wand then, in sort of an up and down motion, her technique just awful. She held it like it was a knife, actually. The sight of it set Draco's nerves on edge, but he pushed the feeling back. "Are vampires real?"
"Yes, but I've never met one."
"Werewolves."
"I have met one of those." Draco forced himself to focus on the long conversations he'd had with Lupin near the end of term, when they'd been working together to make sure that the werewolf could successfully impersonate Lucius. He still didn't like Lupin very much, but they were on the same side, and Lupin was putting himself at great risk in order to get information that might someday help Harry win this war. So, all things considered . . . "Not . . . not a bad sort of bloke, really."
If he laid so much as a paw on Narcissa, though, Draco would revise that assessment and find a way to make Lupin wish he'd never taken up acting at all.
Rhiannon whistled through her teeth, and sat down again in the folding chair. "You might have told me all this a little sooner."
"Actually, I'm not supposed to tell you at all." Draco shrugged. "You seemed so enamoured of magic, though. Your eyes would glow whenever you talked about it . . . and . . . I just wanted to make you happy, I suppose." That was true, even if it wasn't the whole truth.
"Why aren't you supposed to tell me?"
"We have our own set of laws."
"We?"
"The wizarding world."
Rhiannon shook her head. "So strange to know that it's been there all along, like I used to think." She suddenly laughed. "Your act is awful, by the way."
Draco started. "Come again?"
Rhiannon tilted her head to one side. "Oh, not the magic, obviously. That was bloody marvellous, it was. Start to finish. But your patter, Draco? Nothing but clichÈs. Worse, you sounded like you didn't mean a single word."
"Well, that was the first magic show I've ever done," murmured Draco, a little offended. "I've never even seen a magic show. Well, not the kind you mean."
"You don't show off for each other at that school of yours?"
"Oh, we do, but we do it through duels, or playing tricks on one another."
Rhiannon grinned, looking like she was trying to imagine that, but after a moment, her whole expression sobered. "This is why I can't come to your home, isn't it? There are magical things lying around and I'm not allowed to see them?"
Draco gave a half-shrug, half-nod. "I suppose there are some. Like my broom . . . but I can't invite you home mostly because there's been a privacy spell put on it. You literally can't go there unless you've been told where it is, by the person who cast the spell. Who wasn't me, by the way, so . . . there's nothing I can do about it."
"Oh. Are you going to get in trouble for telling me magic is real? It's not your fault, really. I did figure it out on my own. Well, after you made it obvious, I suppose."
"Just don't let on that you know." Draco went to her chair and knelt beside it, taking her hands in his. "All right? Severus would be furious with me, and he'd probably forbid me to see you again. Not that I'd let him stop me," he added, thinking that since he was over seventeen now, Severus really didn't have any authority over him. "But I'd much rather not have to argue with him, you see?"
"Oh, I won't breathe a word," said Rhiannon, nodding. "Not to anyone. But that's a shame. I'd love to talk to more wizards. I mean, openly."
"You'll be able to, someday." And not because the sodding Statute of Secrecy made an exception for committed, long-term relationships. The Statute didn't even really apply to her, but until Draco could prove that to the satisfaction of all concerned, it was best for her to keep her knowledge to herself.
Well, Rhiannon might not have realised yet that she was a witch, but at least she could see magic for what it was, now. She knew it existed. That was certainly a step in the right direction.
"You didn't know, did you?" Rhiannon asked softly, her fingers caressing his. "Outside the club, that man . . . you really didn't know that he was a drug addict, that he'd pawn that necklace to buy heroin. You come from a different world, and not just because you're rich." She suddenly gasped. "Is that why you're rich? You can make money appear?"
"No, things don't work that way. There are poor wizards, too."
"Oh, all right."
She sounded happy about that, actually. Well, she was daft when it came to wealth. Draco had known that much for a while. Her question, though, reminded him about what he'd decided. He did want to show her that he could do something good for other people.
"Listen, there's a children's home I help support," he said. It wasn't really a lie. He was going to give them a huge pile of Galleons. It would be worth it, to make Rhiannon happy. "I wondered if you'd like to go see it? It's sort of like an orphanage."
"How can it be sort of like one?"
"Oh . . . er, well, don't let on that you know, of course, but it's for children who've been rejected by their families. For not having magic."
Rhiannon abruptly let go of his hands. "Is that common?"
"No, no. Most families take very good care of their squ--" Huh, talking to her made him realise how crude the usual term might sound, to someone who hadn't heard it before. "Of their magic-less relatives," he rushed to correct himself. "But there are some who turn them out. Any decent wizard thinks it's a scandal. But the children need a place, somewhere besides with such a heartless family. So I help support the home. With donations. I want to go visit it again and make sure my money's being put to the best possible use . . . would you like to come along?"
"That's good of you to do something for these children." Rhiannon frowned. "The poor things. Yes, I'll come."
"I'll arrange it," said Draco, nodding as he got to his feet. "Later this week. Perhaps Thursday. We'll go early so it won't interfere with your performance that night."
Rhiannon tilted her head up. "Can I . . . can I see more magic, Draco?"
"As much as you like."
"Without the patter, though." Rhiannon rubbed her hands together. "Can I have another rabbit?"
"I'll even cast a calming spell this time, so it'll sit still on your lap."
Draco would have cast a continence spell as well, if he'd realised just what an effect a calming spell would have on a conjured rabbit. It ended up making a terrible mess. But a cleaning charm took care of that.