An Interference of Portraits

Portrait Etiquette

I ignored how traitorous and foul Kreacher had been during those days, not that Sirius had helped his cause.

Instead, I said, 'did you hear that it was Bellatrix who killed your son? She laughed about it afterwards. Danced on the spot, shouting with glee that she'd killed Sirius Black. And that's who you wanted to inherit the Ancient and Noble House of Black. Doesn't seem like a very good example of your noble name...'

Walburga sneered but I wasn't sure if it was because of Sirius or Bellatrix or my little dig.

None of us spoke for a while until she said, 'I see you have the allegiance of my grouchy House-Elf.'

'These days, Kreacher is a model of excellence for all House-Elves. He fought bravely and valiantly in the Battle of Hogwarts. He led an army of House-Elves against the bastards who attacked a school full of innocent children.'

'Master Harry is most gracious,' said Kreacher with a small bow.

'The praise is deserved, Kreacher,' I replied with a genuine smile.

'Perhaps Master Harry would like me to prepare him some breakfast now. Kreacher was thinking of making pancakes this morning.'

'I'd be delighted, Kreacher. I'll come down to the kitchen in a tick.'

He disappeared off with a small 'crack' of apparition.

'Hmph!' huffed Walburga. 'He never cooked pancakes for breakfast in my day.'

'Because you didn't permit it or because he didn't like you?' I asked. 'He's bloody good at them, you know. Delicious with Nutella and fresh strawberries.'

She narrowed her eyes. 'I met your father once. I didn't like him. He had the same sort of quick cheek.'

I waited.

'I suspect he didn't like me either. I also suspect he had a more pragmatic reason than I did.' She looked away. 'I suspect I didn't do either of my boys well.'

I didn't know what to say. In fact, I was, at that particular time, beginning to think that I really needed a coffee and this was all too much for first thing on a Monday morning.

'You're a Half-blood...' she mused, watching me beadily again.

I looked at her sharply.

'But your father was a Pureblood. The Potters were always Purebloods, purer than most.'

'The Blacks included,' I said slyly. 'But so long as you kept burning away the names of Muggles and Squibs from the family tapestry, you can continue to pretend in your bullshit. Sirius told me all about it, how you considered the name "Black" akin to Muggle royalty.'

She scowled, though whether it was because I had called her out, compared her name to something Muggle, or because I swore, she didn't say.

'You remind me of him,' she sneered.

'Who?'

'Sirius. You have the same disrespectful need to answer back to your elders and an equally bad potty mouth.'

I rolled my eyes. 'Regarding my elders... most have let me down in one way or another, most have used me for their own means, for their versions of the "Greater Good". Many have tried to kill me. The first attempt on my life was when I was fifteen months old. And then I had seven years of feeling like every day was a game of Wizarding Chess combined with Exploding Snap. And that's before we get onto my darling relatives who "brought me up", using the loosest possible meaning of the phrase. You'll have to forgive my lack of trust and lack of kowtowing respect but it's been hammered out of me, mostly by those who you admire and consider superior, yet their behaviour consistently proves the worst of the lot. Besides, as you've not exactly behaved civilly towards me over the past six years, I'm withholding judgement. And as for my values, well, I've already explained that they are somewhat different to those of your Toujours Pur bollocks.'