"I was just telling Val that my parents never took it this far." Rose piped in.
"Yes, thank you, Rose," Narcissa said in a tone that clearly said 'could you please just not'. "Thank you for watching her."
"It's no problem, dear," Rose said with a dismissive smile. "Val is always welcome here, of course. And it's a good thing that she did. William said she could hardly stand."
Then it was Valentine's turn to shoot Rose a look that said 'could you please just not'.
"Oh, my poor Val." Narcissa caressed Valentine's hair with one hand.
Valentine battered her hand away without a word.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner." Narcissa sighed "I came as soon as I got the word from William."
"Oh, yes. I should have asked earlier." Said Rose. "How is your father?"
Narcissa didn't reply and just shifted several of Valentine's ringlets over her shoulder.
"Oh, darling." Rose gasped, standing. "I'm so sorry."
"It's quite alright." Narcissa held up a hand for her to sit. "I've known this was coming for a while now."
Narcissa pulled out the chair and sat beside Valentine.
"It's too bad you didn't get to know him longer." Narcissa touched Valentine's shoulder.
"Yes. Tragic." Valentine ate a mouthful of chicken.
Narcissa just sighed and took her hand away.
Valentine wasn't going to pretend to be utterly heartbroken. But she would at least keep her insults to herself for Narcissa's sake. With her mother already dead, one sister disowned and the other imprisoned, Valentine was willing to bet she felt somewhat lonely. Purebloods that shared the same views as the Malfoy's and Lovat's and such were a dying breed. Their children cared less and less as the years went on and the Black's in particular, were dying.
Valentine knew plenty about dying families. Unless her parents or her uncle, all of whom were locked away for the rest of their lives, had more children, then when they died, Valentine would be the last Lestrange. She couldn't imagine herself having children let alone doing any of the stuff that came with it like marriage.
"Val." Narcissa's voice dragged her from her thoughts.
"Hmm?" Valentine arched a brow at her.
"I think you should see your grandfather." Narcissa watched her carefully. "I'm sure he'll appreciate it."
Narcissa looked so fragile, silver eyes waiting with rapt attention for an answer. Valentine hated seeing someone usually so strong like this.
She dropped her fork with a loud clatter.
"I don't suppose I have much of a choice." She grumbled.
"None at all." Narcissa smiled gracefully.
-----Pretending to Hate-----
Stepping into the house, Valentine immediately felt colder. Now the cold typically didn't bother her and she usually preferred it compared to warmer weather, but this house was another matter entirely.
Arg. I hate this place.
Twelve Grimmauld Place had always felt cursed to her. Her great aunt Walburga had died when Valentine and was five and she was a world away from ever being sad about it. There wasn't a moment Valentine had spent near the woman that she hadn't been cursing the very existence of Muggles, Half-Bloods, Muggle Borns, traitors. And now it was like Walburga had stained the very walls and floors with her prejudice and spite. It was like Valentine could still hear her screeching. Though it was rather fitting as the ancestral home of the Blacks, Valentine supposed. She couldn't imagine having to grow up in a house like this. It was no wonder to her that Sirius Black had snapped and turned murderous.
As for Cygnus, they rarely saw much him, recluse of the man he was. When Walburga had finally kicked the bucket, her brother Cygnus had moved in. That was six years ago and in those six years, Valentine and Draco had only seen him twice.
Narcissa nudged her down the narrow hall and Valentine went on reluctantly.
They reached a wider area leading into a sitting room on one side, stairs to the other and the parlour straight ahead.
"Miss Malfoy." A house-elf named Kreacher hurried down the steps.
Kreacher wasn't timid like Dobby, he didn't scurry around in corners or look perpetually terrified. For all intents and purposes, he was just as bad as Walburga herself had been.
"Young Miss Lestrange." Kreacher bowed his head to them. "Kreacher's master is upstairs as he was when you left. Is there anything Kreacher can do for you?"
"No," Narcissa said simply and started up the stairs past him.
Kreacher quickly stepped out of the way, head bowed again.
Valentine followed Narcissa up to the second level and next narrow hall. They travelled all the way to the end and stopped at the door on the left.
"Father." Narcissa rapped her gloved knuckles against the door and waited for a short moment. "Father, it's Narcissa. Valentine is with me."
Narcissa eased the door open as though waiting to be told to shut it again. But there was nothing but the crumbling of a shaking voice.
"Nar...cissa?"
"Yes, father." Narcissa pushed the door the rest of the way open and ushered Valentine inside.
The room was kept dark, but Valentine could see enough to make out the furniture and the bed against the far wall. A mere ghost of a man sat propped up under the silk sheets, grey eyes quite like Narcissa's staring off at nothing.
"Who is there?" He asked again, voice rough.
"It's Narcissa, father." Narcissa hurried to the side of the bed and clutched the man's hand. "It's Narcissa."
The man slowly moved his head as if to look at her but then his eyes landing on Valentine over her shoulder.
"Bellatrix?" He squinted in the dark.
"No, father." Narcissa shook her head lightly. "Valentine. Remember? Bellatrix's daughter. Do you remember how she married Rodolphus Lestrange?"
"Don't talk to me like I'm a fool!" Cygnus growled, suddenly snatching his hand away and making Narcissa jump. "I can remember! Just because I'm old doesn't mean I can't remember!"
Has he gone senile since we last saw him?
"Forgive me," Narcissa spoke softly.
Cygnus shifted with a grumble, muttering incomprehensible things to himself.
"I suppose I'll have to! No one else comes to see me!"
"I'll bring Lucius with me next time if you'd like. And Draco and the Lovat's as well." Narcissa replied.
"They won't come!" Cygnus roared and Valentine saw Narcissa clench her shaking hands. "They won't come! I have been forgotten! That's why Bellatrix doesn't visit! And it's been an age since I saw Andromeda! Three daughters and only one ever visits!"
"Andromeda?" Valentine arched a brow at Narcissa who quickly shushed her.
Has he really forgotten disowning his own daughter and another being incarcerated for multiple accounts of murder?
"Yes, Andromeda." He sneered at Valentine. "You should remember your own sister, Bellatrix, really. You'll have people thinking you're going mad like me."
"I'm not-" Valentine started to speak but Narcissa cut her off.
"No one thinks you're mad, father." Narcissa insisted. "No one would dare insult you so."
"Of course not." Cygnus huffed. "They would never say such things aloud, but they think it. I'm not a fool. They all think I'm mad and you do too."
"I don't think you're mad-"
"Don't lie to me, girl!" Cygnus howled. "I know what you think, I know what they think! You all think I'm mad!"
"Well, what can you expect with how you are carrying on." Valentine snapped, fed up with his screaming, fed up with how he was speaking to his daughter.
"Valentine!" Narcissa gasped and knelt by her father's bedside earnestly. "I'm so sorry, father. Please forgive her."
"Oh, stand up." Valentine barked at her. "You're just embarrassing yourself, kneeling for a dying man."
"Valentine." Narcissa hissed, real hurt in her eyes.
"Bellatrix." Cygnus gritted his teeth. "You just wait until your mother returns. She will be shocked by your behavior!"
"I am not Bellatrix!" Valentine fought the urge to stamp her foot. "I'm Valentine. Bellatrix was my mother."
"Is." Narcissa had turned to look at Valentine pointedly. "Is your mother."
Cygnus was grumbling under his breath again, a long slew of words that Valentine couldn't make out, eyes unfocused.
"Narcissa." Cygnus was then touching Narcissa's cheek.
"Yes?"
"Fetch Andromeda for me, dear."
"Father..."
"It's high time she shows her face around here some more! She'll get nothing but bad influences from the filth out there."
"Yes, I tell her that she is needed at home."
"Good, good." Cygnus nodded and leaned back against the headboard of the bed.
The longest moment he was completely quiet, again staring off at nothing.
Narcissa touched his arm gingerly.
"Father? Are you thirsty or hungry at all? Has Kreacher been serving you well?"
"Kreacher?" Cygnus's face lit up with recognition as if he hadn't heard the name in a long while.
"I'll have some tea made." Valentine saw her chance and headed for the door before Narcissa could speak.
She all but slammed the door behind her and rubbed her temples. Even fading like he was, Cygnus was just as unpleasant. All in all, he was just as irrational as he had been years ago. But Valentine honestly felt for Narcissa. She couldn't exactly relate, but she could sympathise how this would upset her. She had read many books were characters lost their parents and it was often a very dramatic, depressing affair.
She stomped down the stairs so that Kreacher would hear her coming and then there he was standing at the foot of the stairs.
"Kreacher." She said. "Your Master would like some tea."
"Yes, Miss right away. Kreacher lives to serve the Black's and Master shall have his tea." Kreacher nodded and hurried off into the kitchen.
Valentine didn't follow. She wandered over to the sitting room across from the stairs. The door was open, displaying the wallpaper proudly.
The walls were covered with the Black families tree dating back into the middle ages. Every few feet of wall, there would be a large scorch mark completely blacking out the face of a family member. These were those who were disowned.
And just by Valentine's eye line, was her own name, not too far from Draco's.
She put her hand over the image of her and imagined it blacked out like the rest. If the world knew her secret, that was what it would look like. Not that she was particularly proud of her lineage, in fact, she thought she would be much more proud to be scorched from it. But it wasn't quite time for that.
She dropped her hand and stepped away from the wall. She was quite certain that the Lestrange line would likely end with herself and the Black's weren't far off. The blood would live on, in herself, Draco, Narcissa, but the name would be gone. That was another thing Valentine couldn't bring herself to feel sad about.
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