The Slytherin Transfer

37: "Drunk words are sober thoughts."

Sirius and I spend the rest of the day doing chores, the worst of which was clearing the attic of dead puffskeins, which are small, badger like creatures that burrowed in his house for winter and never woke up. We end up finding an infestation of rats up there as well, and after making many jokes about it being Peter's family (and getting yelled at for having too much fun when our laughing echoes downstairs), we clear them out too.

By dinner time, we're both exhausted, but we have no time to sleep as we're called to the table by the same shrill voice that's been bossing us around for hours. After deciding to dust the rest of the drawing room after the meal, we head back down to the basement kitchen, where Regulus, Mrs Black, and Mr Black are seated. A House-elf places plates of food onto the tablecloth, serving a pile of chicken and potatoes onto Walburga's dish first.

The two empty seats aren't next to each other, and Sirius and I share a look before I take the one next to his mother at the head and across from Regulus, and he takes the one between his brother and father, the latter of which is at the other head. On my right, an empty place sits, but there's no chair; Mrs Black clearly did not want us together.

The House-elf serves everyone except me, but I pay no attention, just giving myself my own helping of dinner and ignoring Walburga's scrutinizing gaze, as if she's disappointed I didn't give a reaction.

"Leave us, Kreacher," she demands, not taking her eyes off of me as I pour water into my own glass.

"Yes, Mistress," says Kreacher in a croaky voice. He's old, dressed in a simple towel that covers just his crotch, and gives me a dirty look as he passes and exits the room.

It's quiet for a moment, and then Mr Black begins eating, and so does everyone else. I pick at my chicken slowly, not putting it past that House-elf to poison me.

"I've met your father, Cassidy," comments Walburga out of the blue, and I nearly choke on my food when she says my name for the first time, "he's a lovely man. Has his priorities well in order."

I nod carefully, "He's just grand, yeah."

I don't dare look at Sirius, my eyes boring into Mrs Black's until she speaks again.

"Another long line of pureblood Slytherins, the Milton's are," she says next, "though we've never been affiliated with them before."

"Surprising," I respond, taking another bite of potatoes, "most pureblood families have a lot of messy marriages involved."

My words are dangerous, and meant to be that way. Mrs Black's eyes flash once more.

"Well, it is necessary to maintain the blood line." She doesn't make any other move to eat; clearly that's not what she's here for.

"Right." I nod wisely, then gesturing between her and Mr Black, "So what were you, then? Siblings? Cousins?"

"How dare you?"

"I'm sorry if I've offended you, Mrs Black," I say with all the politeness of the Queen and all the ignorance of her fool, "that was not my intention."

She purses her lips, clearly trying to contain her anger and gain the upper hand.

"Your father must've been shocked by the news of your transfer," she then continues, her stormy eyes piercing my soul, "I saw his interview in the Daily Prophet."

"I'm sure he was," I agree quietly, "though not much I did before made him proud, so I'm not exactly aching for his approval."

"Still, returning home this summer should be an eventful affair." She speaks softly, but with the air of someone who wishes to start something, "Surely he won't want you under his roof anymore."