The Contract

Chapter 110

Rabastan used the Floo network to get to the main Crabbe estate, he wasn't at all surprised that the Dark Lord, his brother and father were there. Not much had changed since the last time he visited, same Victorian - or close to - furniture, curtains and the rugs all a ghastly yellow colour. They were clean, tidy but definitely not his thing at all. The patterns all matched, the Dowager Crabbe hadn't changed the property much in all her years on this earth. The Crabbe's weren't exactly rolling it in, and had quite a few members in the family to really wish to be frivolous. They didn't just have this estate either, but a few other properties strewn across the UK.

"What do you intend to do to my granddaughter?" Dowager Crabbe asked Lord Slytherin, who had no trouble sitting on the rather uncomfortable furniture. The Victorian's did not make things with people's comfort in mind. Glancing very briefly at Rabastan, as she waited for an answer. She had to refrain from fiddling with the shawl she had wrapped around her shoulder.

Lord Slytherin stared at the witch; she was wrapped up warm today. She had some colour in her wardrobe instead of the black robes she'd worn the night of the party. Her white hair was done up in a bun, and other than the shawl nothing at all was out of place. She was older than him, but only by seven or eight years he reckoned. Yet she looked very old, it always amazed Tom when he saw so many people aging. It's something he did not want - and partly feared - not that he'd confess to that not even under pain of death.

"Is she to die for her insults?" Dowager asked again before any of them could think to reply. They could not afford to cross Lord Slytherin and the Lestrange's as well as the house of Black and Potter. The excuses her granddaughter had given had been just diabolically pathetic. Honestly, she could have wrung her bloody neck.

"That is not for me to say," Lord Slytherin informed her, surprising them all, finding amusement in it. what could he say? Without using the Cruciatus Curse every day he had to find his entertainment elsewhere. He wasn't insane enough to curse them for such stupid reasons that he could recall from his memories.

Dowager Crabbe's hand shook as she poured the tea for them all. Putting it down, she nodded slowly, folding the napkin repetitively. It was a soothing motion, she wished she could say she was more shocked by the declaration but she wasn't. Her granddaughter had insulted Heir Potter not just an Heir to the Potter estate but the Black and eventually Lestrange.

She couldn't have picked anyone worse to start her nonsense with. She blamed her son for indulging her. So sure, she would marry into a good family and elevate their status and possibly give them a far greater fortune than they had. Her son and daughter-in-law hadn't been the sharpest knife in a wandmakers drawer. She'd thought her grandchildren had at least gained her smarts, especially Vincent, who was named after her. His exam results pleased her greatly, as she'd noticed, he was smarter than her children. Merlin bless their souls. Thus, his grades were far better, she had high hopes for him indeed.

"Master Lestrange?" Dowager Crabbe asked; her heart was pounding in her chest. Terrified of what she would hear, gazing at him on the verge of pleading, begging for clemency. "What is to become of my granddaughter?" she would have to stand aside - no matter how much its kills her - if its what was demanded of her. She could not endanger the rest of the family, she doubted that because Vincent was good friends with Heir Potter would save them.

They were low down on the totem pole and she knew it.

Rabastan startled, just a little, not enough to be called upon for that. Of course, he was a Master, he'd gained his title and he was very proud of it. Other than Harry's soft yet proud teasing, nobody had really called him Master Lestrange yet. As a second born, he didn't get a title, not unless something happened to the 'heir' and then he would have become the 'heir' it was the whole point of having a spare. Not that he was ever that, he knew his parents wanted a big family, since neither of them had really had a close family.