Chapter 167 - Dorea Potter (2/2)

”Yes, well, she's held on thus far,” Dorea admitted. ”And I'd hate to see her head chopped off to be hung on the wall.”

”Such a distasteful tradition,” Georgine grimaced.

”Yes, well, the Blacks still continue it,” Dorea lightly said.

”But you're a POTTER,” Georgine emphasized with a smirk.

”And so, I am,” Dorea sniffed. ”And that is exactly why I shan't hang her head on a plaque.”

Seeing Rowan glancing around, Dorea smiles fondly recalling her own now-deceased son. ”Why don't you go and explore, child? Anything dangerous has been locked away. But we do have a nice library if that is more of your suit?” Dorea kindly offered.

”Thank you, Madam Potter, I will,” Rowan said, before hurrying out of the room.

”She seems to be rather quiet for her age,” Dorea observed as she watched the tall, unusually calm girl go.

”Her muggle father wasn't one for being patient,” Georgine flatly said as she glanced at her nails. ”My brother would have killed him, but my sister-in-law begged him not to.”

”How bad was it, Georgine?” Dorea said through narrowed eyes. ”I shan't tell anyone. You know as well as I the kind of a brute I had for a father. That upon his death, I did indeed dance upon his grave a merry little jig, before spitting on his grave.”

”Not quite as bad as your own,” Georgine admitted. ”But enough that are lingering scars.”

Dorea purses her lips, but before she can reply, Pookey arrives with a steaming tray full of tea and food. With care, both women each take a sip of their tea as Pookey asks, ”Will that be all Madame Potter?”

”Yes, that will be all, Pookey,” Dorea dismissed the house elf as it left with a small bow.

”Well, at least the old thing still makes superb tea,” Georgine observed as she sipped the rose tea.

”Yes, well, I've never had any reason to complain,” Dorea admitted as she took a sip of her own. The two women fall silent for a bit as they enjoy their tea's, before chatting again. It was a rather enjoyable afternoon to say the least.