Disclaimer: The usual. The characters except for Tisella and this portrayal of their characters belong to JK Rowling.

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A light rap on the door followed by the sound of the door to her study opening quickly.

The voice of a little boy – oh, how young the child is – weak and nervous:

"Mother?"

She looked up from her papers, neatly stacked into short piles; the quill in her hand still signing individual forms. She spared him this glance before returning to the papers.

"Mother…"

Sharp eyes flicked to his direction coolly, no expression in them.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Mother, I know I really shouldn't and all...I didn't really mean to, I know you're really busy, but…"

The quill stilled. 

The boy took it as a warning and did not continue.

The woman's eyes had narrowed into slits as she regarded the child before her.

"I take it therefore that a customary pause for the permission to enter after you knock upon a door conveniently slipped your mind?"

A slight, jittery nod.

"We shall deal with that later, I supposed. Well then, for what reason did you come here for?"

A hesitant step forward and then another. Finding that he received no reaction, the boy then remained where he was, shuffling his feet before bursting out,

"Mother, I flew today! On a broomstick! Yhamos was really excited! He says I am a natural! That I have the potential to become a brilliant Seeker! That's the most important position in Quidditch! He's going to train me!"

"That is his job, I would think." A slight frown accompanied her words.

The boy stared at her for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty flashed in his eyes. He paused before carrying on. "He says that I have the potential to become a Quidditch player, representing England for the Cup!"

Her tone was disapproving. "I should hope not. A Malfoy certainly does not become a Quidditch player."

The flush in the boy's face died a little and his expression became disappointed. "Oh. I see."

"Concentrate on your lessons, child. Flying will not teach you how to manage your heritage." Her voice was distant again. The quill returned to its dance across the paper.

"Yes Mother." Obediently he turned to go.

A parting comment was issued.

"And have Tisella to go over the lessons on basic etiquette again."

"But, we just did it yesterday…" Impulsively, the boy raised a protest.

The voice lashed back at him. "It seems that you did not listen hard enough then."

Lips trembled as eyes grew wet. "I'm sorry, Mother."

"Go now. I have important business to attend to."

He made quick, clumsy bow before slipping out, making sure though, to close the door gently behind him.

Narcissa Malfoy rang the servants' bell and the housekeeper immediately appeared.

"Tell Yhamos to stop flattering the boy. It serves other purpose and I will stand by my previous decision. He will neither be promoted nor be given a raise in his salary for all the honey he pours into the boy's ears. This will be his only warning."

The housekeeper nodded and withdrew.

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