Chapter 1 : Malfoy Manor, revisited
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The spell book flew out of her hands, as she grappled helplessly with thin air. It landed in a broken heap at the other end of the corridor. Scorpius chuckled, then leaned towards her menancingly.
“And if you tell,”
he whispered threateningly
“I’ll get you.”
His work done, her brother strode purposefully back down the corridor.
“Squib” She muttered, retrieving the book by hand.
The family house elf, Ira, shuffled up the stairs, his bat like ears drooping downwards.
“Mistress must go to the dining hall please. Dinner is ready.”
“Thank you, Ira.”
Unlike her family, she made a point of speaking to the elf, who knew little kindness.
She ran down to the first floor, slowing her pace only when she reached the hall, leading to the dining area.
“So you’re sending Scorpius back to that infernal school next week?” Her grandfather asked.
“I still strongly believe you should enrol him at Durmstrang. A school like that teaches its students morals as well as independence. Hogwarts has gone to the dogs.”
Narcissa laid a hand on her husband’s arm
“I’m sure Astoria has no wish for Scorpius to be so far from home, I certainly didn't when Draco was that age.”
Lucius snorted derisively.
“It does a child no harm to be independent. The boys old enough.”
His eyes strayed to Violet, who ducked her head shyly.
“And what about Violet?”
“She’s going into her first year next week.”
“Is that so?” Lucius never once took his grey eyes off her as spoke
“Are you… excited?” The word sounded strange coming from his mouth. Violet doubted that he had been excited in his life. Emotion did not come naturally to Lucius Malfoy.
“I- I suppose”
He nodded and then turned back to her father
“I trust you’ll be guiding Violet in the right direction? We don’t want her going to Hogwarts and sullying the Malfoy name do we; making friends with mudbloods and such.”
Violet blushed and bit her lip as Scorpius kicked her again
The rest of the meal was mercifully uneventful. Her grandfather complained loudly about the new minister for magic, the daily prophet, and the quality of the items in Borgin and Burkes- “Gone downhill ever since Borgin was arrested, the fool.”
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