Author's notes: Thank you to Gin, for reviewing all my chapters in one day! Love ya honey bunch! Additional thanks to turnmeawayagain for your review too, I appreciate the support.

As always, thank you to my awesome beta, IMissPadfoot (user ID1133633), you're a star!

Chapter Five: Family Hatred.

Morrigan arrived at the Ministry of Magic, for the reading of her Grandmother's will, signed in and had her wand checked at the front desk, and then took the lift to the floor she'd been directed to.

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement on the second level, housed the Wizengamot Administration Services, which was where all wizarding wills were read, unless officially stated otherwise.

Morrigan had never been inside the British Ministry of Magic before, and although she was suitably impressed with it, thought it didn't compare to her own Government houses in Italy.

As the golden lift doors clanked open, and she stepped out of them and onto the corridor of level two, she looked around.

The small hallway was dimly lit by a few torches, and unmarked doors were dotted at various places along the wall. Looking ahead of her, Morrigan noticed the only doorway that bore a golden sign, it read; Wizengamot Administration Services.

Hurrying to her destination, eager to get the will reading over as quickly as possible, Morrigan didn't notice the man at the end of the hallway until she'd walked straight into him.

"Oh, sorry Sir," she said hurriedly, looking up to be greeted by familiar grey eyes.

"Please be careful where you're walking next time, Miss," drawled an all too familiar voice.

Morrigan was momentarily startled by the similarities between Draco Malfoy, and the man who was obviously his father.

"Sorry, it won't happen again," she repeated, before gently brushing past him.

She was about to carry on along the corridor, when – compelled by an unknown force – she turned and strode back to Lucius Malfoy.

"Excuse me," she said tentatively. "You're Lucius Malfoy, aren't you?"

"Yes, and what of it?" Lucius returned, looking annoyed.

"I'm very sorry to bother you, Sir, but I was just wondering if you'd had any news about your son?" she asked, a weird feeling bubbling inside her stomach.

Lucius' face contorted, somewhere between concern and anger, before he replied simply, "No, I haven't."

"Erm... well -" Morrigan mumbled, but Lucius cut her off.

"Why?" he asked, a menacing look appearing in his eyes. "Have you heard anything? Or seen him?"

"I... erm... no. I just read that he was missing in the Daily Prophet, and wondered if you'd had any news," Morrigan lied, a blush creeping up her neck and to her cheeks.

"No, we haven't, Miss, and if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to," he answered shortly, before sweeping past her, and down the corridor.

As he reached the lift, Lucius looked back at Morrigan, and she felt sure he'd known she was lying seconds before.

Morrigan took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of guilt and anxiety, before she pushed open the doors and entered the offices of the Wizengamot.

Seeing her family already seated on large leather chairs, and gathered around a polished oak table, Morrigan's feeling of unease increased.
The last thing she had needed on the day of the reading of her Grandmother's will, was to have run into Lucius Malfoy and be forced to lie to his face about Draco's whereabouts.

For some strange reason, Morrigan's thoughts momentarily left her grandmother, and fell on Draco. She slipped her fingers into her travelling cloak, and brushed the parchment note he'd left for her that morning.
Hoping that he'd be in the Leaky Cauldron when she returned, Morrigan slipped into the only available leather seat remaining in the room.

Her mother smiled weakly at Morrigan as she sat down, and her father blinked repeatedly. Felicia pushed her chair closer to Morrigan's and squeezed her older sister's hand. Sean, however, avoided her gaze completely.

After a few seconds of tense and uncomfortable silence, a wizard dressed in navy blue robes entered the room. He was carrying a leather folder of papers, which he set on the oak table before him, and then took his seat opposite the O'Brien family.

"Good afternoon, I'm Marcus Triville, and I'm very sorry to be meeting some of our neighboring witches and wizards, on such a solemn occasion," he said, smiling somberly at each member of the family.

The O'Brien family merely nodded, and so Marcus Triville continued speaking.

"I'll try to be as quick as possible, and not keep you all here in your time of grief," he began. "As executor of Mary O'Brien's will, it is my duty to inform you all of the requests she left regarding each of you. In addition, I will happily contact anyone named in the will, who are not present today, if you so wish."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Triville," replied Connor in a choked voice.

Marcus Triville looked directly at each member of the family, with sad eyes, before clearing his throat loudly and reading directly from Mary's will.

"To my beloved only son, and precious daughter-in-law, I leave the entire content of my Gringotts vault, to be used as they wish. To my eldest grandchild, and only grandson, I leave my wand, my collection of books, and my opal necklace, all also to be done with as he wishes. To my youngest granddaughter, I leave my engagement and wedding rings, again to be used as she wishes, but with the hope she'll keep them for her own marriage in the future. And finally, to my eldest granddaughter, I leave my home in Northern Ireland, again to be used as she wishes, but under the agreement that she reads and complies with the enclosed letter that's addressed to her."

The O'Brien family looked at each other in confusion, as Marcus Triville gave them each pieces of parchment, that were legally binding documents stating Mary's direct wishes as regards to everything she'd left them. As Morrigan took a second folded and sealed piece of parchment from Marcus Triville, Sean spoke out angrily.

"She's leaving the house to her?" he questioned, his face turning red, his eyes burning with hatred and the volume of his voice rising dangerously. "After everything she's done, and all the problems she's caused this family, Grandmother is leaving her house to Morrigan?"

He almost spat his eldest sister's name in his rage, and when he regarded her, it was with pure malice.

"Sean, now is not the time or place for such bitter accusations," his mother warned, her voice almost breaking for the tears now running down her cheeks.

"I'm afraid, Master O'Brien, that the content of your grandmother's will is legally and magically binding. There is no way to contest it," added Marcus Triville, in what he hoped would be a calming and helpful remark.

"This is ridiculous, and I'm not staying here another second to hear any more of it," Sean all but hissed, sweeping out of the room.

After Connor had apologized to Marcus Triville for his son's rude outburst, he, Isabella and Felicia all looked from Morrigan to Marcus with disbelieving eyes, and then exited the room as graciously as they could.

As they hurried away after Sean, Marcus Triville turned sadly to Morrigan.

"I'm so sorry if I've caused you any upset on this of all days, Miss," he said weakly. "I was only performing my duties as instructed. If your grandmother's memory holds any place in their hearts, I'm sure your family will come round soon enough."

Morrigan smiled at him warmly, and replied, "Thank you for your time and kind words, Mr. Triville. I have business to attend to, as I'm sure you do too, so I'll bid you good day now."

Morrigan rose from here seat, and with another brief nod to Marcus Triville, swept out of the room.
She quickly collected her wand from the front desk, exited the Ministry of Magic, and Apperated across London to the Leaky Cauldron.

Wanting nothing more than a large fire whiskey, Morrigan entered the pub, and was grateful to see Draco apparently waiting for her, two drinks in front of him.

She took a seat besides him, and for an instant, her anger and breaking heart stilled, as she peered into his grey eyes, and found him smiling up at her.

"Bad day?" he asked in a concerned tone, seeing the lines of worry on her pale face.

"The worst," Morrigan all but sniffed in reply.

"So tell me about it and easy your worries?" he suggested, pushing a glass of fire whiskey towards her.

"And why all the concern, all of a sudden?" questioned Morrigan, suddenly turning cold.

"Because... I thought we were friends... and I care," Draco replied simply.

Morrigan drained her drink in one long mouthful, shook off her travelling cloak and sighed. Leaning back in her chair, she took a deep breath, and began.

To be continued...