NO MORE A PRETENDER~ {The Lestrange Daughter #3}

𝟑. Scrimgeour

TRIGGER WARNING; Contains violence directly involving the characters. Not terribly graphic but please take care if you are sensitive to such things.

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When Valentine slipped back into Malfoy Manor, two Death Eaters lurking by the front door stared at her. 

"What?" she snapped.

They didn't seem particularly rattled by her but exchanged uneasy glances. 

"The Dark Lord's not happy." Replied one of them.

"Well, what the hell is there to be happy about?" Valentine snarled, throwing her broom at their feet. 

They both opened their mouths to reply when a voice called out to Valentine.

"Val!" It was Narcissa, rushing down the stairs with Samantha at her side. 

Here's trouble.

"Where in the world have you been? Everyone else got back over an hour ago!"

"Well, since you're here scolding me I can assume they're all in one piece."

"What were you thinking?" Narcissa hissed lowly as she reached the bottom of the stairs and stalked towards her niece.

Samantha lingered behind a dew steps and both of the lingering Death Eaters used this as a means to escape. 

"I can look after myself." Valentine narrowed her eyes darkly. "I intend to serve, not stand back and watch."  
"Valentine, you just can't-" Narcissa sighed, massaging the bridge of her nose. "You scared the living daylights out of me." 

"And how is that my problem?"

Narcissa just shook her head in solemn exasperation. 

"You really had us worried," Samantha stepped forward with a level gaze. "Why were you gone so long?" 

Valentine turned her glare on the woman.

"That's none of your business."

Samantha placed her hands on hips with all the firmness of a mother of three, unperturbed by Valentine's stare. 

"Well, it certainly is Narcissa's business."

"She's being illogical. I can handle myself better than half the grown adults here."

"We know you can fend for yourself and more but you're still young and we're going to be worried about you whether it's logical or not." 

"That's stupid."

"Welcome to parenthood." 

The two stared each other down for a long singular moment. Valentine could see how Bridget had turned out the way she was with a mother like this. 

"Whatever." Valentine huffed and pushed past them. "I need a bath."

She had only just reached the bottom of the stairs when another voice called out, this one low and gruff.

"Oi, Lestrange!"

Valentine looked up to see Greyback standing at the top.

"What do you want?" She wrinkled her nose lightly. 

"The Dark Lord wants you." He grunted. "Now."

-----No More A Pretender-----

Valentine doubted that those words would ever become easier to swallow. Snape was Voldemort's most trusted servant and even he would be reluctant to comply. Not that he could. That was a one-way ticket to a sealed fate.