All in the Family

Chapter 135: Spinner's End

The whole room felt as large as Lily's entire house. She didn't even immediately see the other seven right away there was so much opulent space and grandeur to take in. The walls themselves seemed to ripple in an expansive opal dragon hide, the green snake banners hung all along the room wasn't exactly an identifying mark in her opinion, she would have one of each house in her room if she knew where to buy it, but she seemed to have landed right next to a cork board with scraps of papers and more importantly, photos that she would have to suss out as belonging to Draco Malfoy.

Lucius and Narcissa watching the five year old carefully but with pride as he laughed for the snow floating around him at some summer park in the heat, chasing ducks and occasionally stopping to lick an ice cream. One of him, Crabbe, and Goyle at sevenish playing some sort of game with apples, the little blonde's teeth oddly crooked, so she imagined it was some time at Halloween and done on purpose. He, Knott, and Blaise in their teens and in Quidditch robes throwing Quaffles around, he and Pansy in a booth at Madam Puddifoots.

Beneath all of these were dozens of rolls of parchment, some with the ink still wet of different music sheets with elaborate tunes and lyrics only half done in. She wasn't well versed enough to even guess at what instrument he could play, but judging by the few she spotted around the room that Frank was sheepishly repairing after crashing into them, the better question seemed what hadn't he been privileged in getting to learn at his leisure.

No one just looking at a glimpse of his obviously loved and carefree life would ever guess he was such an arse to her son, as well as Neville and likely many others. Her ears now rung with the foul word he so casually used that Severus now seemed to agree with.

There were a few daunting hints at such a thing, his picture of a very young Bellatrix Lestrange smiling as he prodded at the tattoo on her arm with childlike delight, he couldn't be more than two. The Sacred Twenty-Eight redone in his neat handwriting near the top corner with little scribbles and notes about each family.

Pettigrew was near the door trying to open it, to no success, the diamond handle in his palm glinting. Regulus Black was spinning a bust of a snake head with black stones in each eye that was likely a thousand galleons or some such, and cursed to boot, that Draco probably used as a paper weight. The lack of a house-elf hadn't much of an impact on their life it seemed, the wide open space felt empty to her in the organized place despite the many things available to look at. This boy had wanted for nothing, even a glance out the wide arched window showed glorious albino peacocks strutting along hedges and acres of pleasure beyond to explore, and yet he'd just as likely kill Hermione and her at the blink of an eye it seemed. He'd showed no remorse for his fathers actions trying to kill her son twice now.

Sirius Black had been offered the same and spurned it all away, Regulus had apparently started asking questions far too late for it to matter and died for it. Severus had been given nothing of the sort but turmoil, and he'd embraced the Death Eater lot, abandoning her and showing no clear signs of regretting it ever since.

She was sick of burying her head in the sand for his whys, it was time to start asking questions, but the problem was the one whom she still wanted to most was not available.

Alice was still crawling off the king sized bed, Potter was holding a signed Snitch with some look of awe on his face for whomever the signature was for, and there was a beautiful occamy skinned rug the length of the room Lupin was gazing sadly down at.

Sirius Black came stumbling out of a closet not too far behind her, enough she could peek inside and see the extravagant clothes inside that was more shaped to a normal bedroom, the teenager himself clutching his throat theatrically and miming gagging for all to see as he 'collapsed' to the ground still sputtering his disgust at getting a look at the underthings.