In Love & Hatred - Dramione

Veracity

Draco

A resounding crack was all that left the vacant corridor of the inn. Breathless moments and a rather precarious landing left the three standing in front of an aged door marked clearly with the curling designs of a serpent. Draco whipped his head briefly to the square behind them after regaining his composure.

Are we in London?

"If you please, master."

Solid clicks of a lock released and revealed a darkened entryway lined with curious figures. Kreacher ushered the pair inward and pushed the weighted door shut. A far away glow left illuminating traces to the objects that lingered in the hall.

"Where are we?" Draco wondered aloud while taking a cautionary step.

"SCUM! FILTH! SOILING THE HOUSE OF MY FOREFATHERS!"

Both Draco and Potter immediately recoiled from the jarring screech as a pair of velvet curtains billowed around a portrait of a gaunt woman shrieking like a banshee. Her sallow skin stretched nearly to the point of break against her wide features. Their hands clasped tightly over their ears as Kreacher hurried to placate the painting and draw the curtains together once more. Potter gestured to follow him toward the soft glow.

"Uh," Potter hesitated, "I would avoid going back into that corridor. She is not the most welcoming here."

Draco offered no objection for the idea of verbal assault from a horrid painting was in one of the least of his desires. The vile shrieking died away and soon after the elf shuffled into the study to which he had only realized they were currently occupying.

"Would master and his guest care for a drink?" the small being croaked.

"Uh, sure, thanks."

Draco nodded in appreciation for the hospitality and took the crystal tumbler filled with amber liquid. Kreacher turned to Potter and wrung his hands in anticipation. His round nose and elongated ears seemed to wrinkle under intense concentration.

"Kreacher would like to speak to master without the company of his guest.."

A glimmer of deflation appeared deep within his core. Draco had been longing for a hopeful word or semblance of Hermione's whereabouts. Once again, Draco offered no rejection against his will and bowed away, careful to not disturb the concealed portrait.

Meandering about he found himself ascending a groaning stairwell and onto the first floor landing. Peculiar faces were peeking from a slightly ajar door across from where he stood. Cautious of any more paintings, Draco crept into a sizable drawing room lined with a faded, emerald tapestry marked with drawn faces and names indicating a family tree. Centuries of nobility surrounded him, blackened marks dotted the tapestry like random explosive blasts from a weapon.

"Phineas... Nigellus Black..." he muttered under his breath.

This name was instantly recognizable from the headmaster portrait hanging in the head office. Draco took a sip of firewhisky and felt the hard bite of the liquor pass down his throat. His eyes traced the branches of the family tree, reading the names of those intact and those that had been burned. Instinctively, his fingers outstretched to finger a name he knew all to well.

"Lestrange.."

His aunt's scowl glared back from between his fingertips. Pausing for only a moment, his fingers glided to a burn with a label that embroidered the letters, 'Andromeda m. Ted Tonks', and down to find his mother's name nestled above his own. Neither his mother nor aunt mentioned his third aunt, Andromeda, except for a rare occasion in passing. Instantly, he understood the what the burn markings represented, disowning of family.