Chapter 63: Epilogue
Some odd five years later, the whole family lived at Malfoy Manor. Happily ever after?
In many ways…. Yes.
Narcissa loved her white haired grandson, Scorpius. He reminded her so much of his father… But she could also relate really well to that other child, Rose, already nearing her teenage years. Rose had taken to the gardens the moment she’d arrived and Narcissa taught her all she knew about keeping it beautiful.
However, it had taken Lucius quite some time to behave civilly towards Hermione and her daughter.
What finally turned him around were his own forefathers…. The paintings had made a horrible racket the moment they all realized Hermione was a Mudblood moving in and the only thing for it was to take them out. Some of the nicer looking paintings had been muted… still hanging in their place, but no longer allowed to speak, though they occasionally made vile gestures towards Hermione. The ones that had been bothering them all along— ugly in words and appearance—were banned to the attic instead.
Draco would sometimes threaten his father to mute him too, but Narcissa always scolded him for such behavior. He shouldn’t speak to his father like that!
Lucius had been lamenting his fate to some of the kinder, still speaking portraits… and they had tried their best to console him, to no avail…
“My line has ended…” he would groan again and again… “My son is raising a Mudblood’s daughter…”
One day, one of the portraits spoke up to him… and emboldened by this gesture, so did a second one as well…
“Perhaps it is time to let you in on a family secret… “ his great-great-great-grandfather said. “My wife was Muggle born..”
Lucius gasped for breath… “No.. she couldn’t have been… She came from the most noble house of…”
“I twiddled the records a bit for her… A birth certificate was easy to fabricate in those days… and my charm work has always been outstanding…”
A second, much older, Medieval portrait spoke up as well. “My son did the same as yours… He fell in love with a Muggle born… and if he hadn’t been my only son, I would have cast him of without thinking…. I pretended the girl was pure blood instead, and never told my wife nor anyone else about it…” He peered around anxiously to see if his wife could overhear him now…
“Two… two Muggle ancestors….” Lucius stammered. “I am… I have never been a pureblood to begin with..?”
“Not fully, no, but your percentage of pure blood- blood is still in the upper nineties… Even the Ancestro Revelio spell would still reveal you as a pure blood…”
“But.. but… it wouldn’t be true…” his voice faltered.
“Not for the full hundred percent, no… Although I doubt anyone could claim that…” the first portrait giggled into his beard. “Most noble families I know of, conceal a few Muggle-borns in their lineage somewhere…”
“I believe so..” the Medieval Malfoy agreed. “There was this huge scandal in my day… when..”
“Please… please.. enough..” Lucius moaned, his hands covering his ears to protect himself. With the tears streaming down his face, he was handed a very ancient handkerchief by one of the silent bystanders… Some of them appearing as shocked as he was, others grinning mischievously as they had known all along…
Since that fateful day, Lucius tried to be more friendly towards Hermione and Rose... He still called them Mudblood if he was angry, but Rose eagerly return the favour. She didn’t mind the slur, but Lucius himself was still shocked every time he was reminded of his own—not so pure after all—lineage.
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