Written for:
All About You Challenge: Write a fic set in Malfoy Manor
200 Characters in 200 Days: Druella Black (née Rosier)
Valentine-Making Challenge: Write about Grandparents
Chocolate Frog Card Challenge: Fire Crab - Write about someone who looks attractive, but has a horrible personality.
House of Black Challenge: Narcissa and Draco, gold.
If You Dare Challenge: 225. Pronounced, Powerful, Durable and Good
Gringotts Prompt Bank: Colours: black olive, magnolia, sea green. Family Vocab: grandparents, grandchild, family, son, matriarch, nurture, wedding. Celestial, Nautical and Weather Prompts: Distress Signal. Said Words: praised. Proverbs: "Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it." - Proverbs 22:6, "A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver or gold." - 13:20, "Children should be seen and not heard."
Words: 824


Disagreeable

Druella sat beside her husband on the fine, Romanian sofa in the entertaining lounge at Malfoy Manor. She was old and grey now, but still a vestige of her former beauty remained. Her lips were still full and red, turning up at the corners like she was perpetually smiling. Her eyes had always been deep set, but they still shone a bright, forget-me-not blue. Her hair might have been a shade of silver, but it was healthy, catching the light with the same lustre as the blonde locks of her youth. She was still as beautiful as ever, radiant and proud.

She took a sip of tea from the fine china cup before placing it back on its coaster on the coffee table to her left.

Her daughter was sat to her right, in an armchair that matched the sofa, in the same dulcet shades of black olive and sea green. The carpet was an off-white, and a small boy with bright white-blond hair and Druella's eyes sat playing with a toy Potions set, stirring a small wooden spoon in a miniature cauldron. The boy's father was busy with business, too caught up in money and connections to nurture his son, but the boy's mother doted on him enough for two.

The grandparents were watching their grandchild at play, Cygnus with a loving smile, Druella with a blank expression.

"It's wonderful, Narcissa, what you're doing with Draco here. Start children off the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it," Cygnus praised, smiling at his daughter. Narcissa smiled at the compliment by way of acknowledgement, not saying a word. Modesty was a valued trait in daughters, and she'd learned how to portray the trait as a small child herself.

"You feed him sugar and chocolate," Druella broke in. "You can tell just looking at him. Spoiled and self-important already, and barely two-years-old."

Druella had always been the matriarch of the family, disagreeing with her husband, changing his decisions if they didn't suit her. She'd had the last word on everything since her wedding day.

The little boy stood from his play with the cauldron and crossed the room, picking up a little toy that had pegs through a piece of wood and a tiny hammer with which he could push the pegs through the wood and out the other side.

"There's nothing wrong with a bit of self-importance in the heir to the Malfoy fortune, and with the Blacks at his back, no less. A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver or gold," Cygnus dared to argue.

"What good is a good name without great riches? Whoever listened to a penniless Pureblood? How do you intend to influence the world without golden leverage?" Druella questioned in disgust.

Cygnus said nothing, knowing the argument wouldn't be worth the consequences when he lived with the woman.

The child was happily banging away with his hammer, making a racket that caused Druella to flinch. It didn't take long, of course, for the boy's still-developing hand-eye coordination to fail him, and he brought the hammer down on his own fingers. He let out a shrieking wail and began to scream his tears out so loudly Druella thought the gardener working hundreds of feet away on the laburnum trees at the edge of the property probably heard him.

"What a ghastly distress call!" she called out in horror. "Children should be seen and not heard, Narcissa. You need to get that screech out of him! How embarrassing for you when you're entertaining!"

Narcissa ran over to her son, picking him up in her lap and fussing over him to calm him down. She ignored her mother as she took his sore fingers one by one, placing gentle kisses upon their soft and delicate skin. Draco cuddled in to his mother's embrace, calming his cries down to sniffles and sobs. Narcissa kissed his forehead and suggested he played with something else. He reluctantly left the comfort and warmth of his mother's arms and toddled over to his toy box, pulling out a replica of a shop counter before fishing around for the rest of the parts; the toy money and saleable items.

"Mother, I appreciate your input, I do, but Draco is my son, not yours. You had your chance to raise children how you saw fit with me and my sisters, and you did. It's my turn, now, and I'll raise him to be pronounced, powerful, durable and good on my own terms," Narcissa confronted her mother.

Druella sat with a look of pure shock on her face. Never, in all her years, had her daughter stood up against her with such disrespect. Her face settled into a deep scowl full of loathing.

"Cygnus, we've outstayed our welcome," she commented as she stood, leaving the room with determined steps and no goodbyes.