Drage Herrogard

"Werewolf?" Valcan inquired, raising his eyebrow. "You men really need to fill me in on the events of late. Go ahead, Sammael." His gaze was cold and amused.
 
Tristan raised his eyebrow at Lief. "Don't think for one minute that I'm scared of Ravus. He's never exactly beaten me in a fight, you know." He smirked, turning to Valcan. "What is there to tell? We snatched the girls from Hogwarts, we took them to the Borely, we went back to different places, joined up at Stark Manor, and my daughter escaped. And then she just happened to bring a group of friends back and break Sam and Draco's daughters out too." His expression was dark and cold, a hint of weariness in his eyes.

"As for Carlisle, well, Arcturus forgot to take his dose of Wolfsbane and bit the first person he could get to."
 
Valcan raised his eyebrow. "You mean her guardian is a werewolf?" A broad smirk stretched across his face. "That's good; very good."

He laughed coldly at Tristan's confused expression. "Think about it, Tristan. Her father is now a known death eater, her uncle's a werewolf. In the eyes of the Ministry, she doesn't have a consistent guardian."
 
"Yes, that sounds about right. Except that we had the stupid kids under control until King showed up. Not to mention Tristan's daughter is a nightmare of a brat." Sammael was in a foul mood and took another large swig of his vodka, not caring if he enraged anyone or not.<i></i>
 
Tristan looked at Sammael, but could not say anything. He did agree with Sammael's remark, but was not going to voice it.

He turned back to his father. "What are you getting at?" He thought that he knew, but wasn't sure.
 
"Still, Sammael," Valcan said quietly, "You should have been able to take care of students, regardless of one Professor. I can't say that I'm not disappointed in every one of you."

"For being a Ravenclaw, Tristan, you're pretty daft sometimes. She doesn't have a family member of magical origins that isn't in trouble with the law or a danger to society. Except for myself." He smiled broadly. "Would you object to me applying for guardianship? I don't think that the ministry would be able to refuse it."
 
Tristan raised his eyebrow, and said, "That probably is a good idea." He didn't care much either way.

He smirked at Sammael. "So, what did you tell your colleagues? Imperiused? I don't think that Nick King would keep quiet about it."
 
"I have yet to tell them anything. Have you been listening, Cousin? We were talking about this only minutes ago." Sammael glared at Tristan before tipping back his head to drink down the rest of his vodka.
 
"Well excuse me, Cousin," Tristan snapped back angrily, "I believe that last conversation was about what to tell your daughter, not the ministry." He smirked, taking a sip of the vodka. "And I guess this impairs my judgment just a wee bit, wouldn't you say?"

He laughed coldly; this was becoming very much when they were younger; constantly bickering.
 
"The boys are finally home," Brunhilde sighed, "And yet again bickering like schoolchildren." She smirked as she tipped back her glass of vodka discreetly and elegantly.
 
Sammael set his empty bottle on the table and smiled evilly at Tristan. "Yes, you never could hold your alcohol." He sat back in his hair, putting his fingertips together and kept his gaze on Tristan. Sammael had decided to ignore Brunhilde, just as he had always done when she was pretending to be better than him and Tristan.
 
"The clever one always, aren't you, Sammael?" Tristan shot back, smirking. His speech was getting to be a little slurred.

"Though you didn't seem too sober when we went to play Quidditch." He laughed, tipping back the bottle and purposely making a fool out of himself, because it irritated Valcan.
 
Sammael laughed a bit. "Remember, I drank about twice as much as you. Also, I was acting more drunk than I was to make you feel better. And to make Arcturus and Goyle feel stupid for losing to us.

"And I am clever, thank you. Not to mention a far better father than you. I cannot believe you are going to do it again." Sammael smirked to Tristan, wondering if he had told Valcan yet.
 
"You lie," Tristan laughed. "You were just as liable to fall off your broom as I was."

"Amazing, that," he held up the bottle in a cheer, "We beat them and they weren't even intoxicated. Pretty embarrassing, huh, Lief?"

Just realizing what Sammael was saying, his face turned a dark, dangerous red. He had not told his father anything.
 
"What?" Valcan exclaimed, his eyes darting back and forth between Sammael and Tristan. "No one has informed me of this."

His voice gained a bitter tone. "So, when were you planning on telling me, son? Or is this going to be a surprise grandchild again?"
 
Brunhilde groaned sarcastically, her eyes filled with amusement. "Oh, Tristan, don't tell me you've run off with another muggle woman. I don't think our family could bear any more shame."
 
Sammael's smirk turned roguish, quite pleased with the result of his comment. He turned to Valcan. "I apologize, I figured Tristan would have told you by now." Sammael turned back to Tristan, drumming his fingertips against one another.
 
Tristan gritted his teeth, glaring at Sammael and Brunhilde. They just had to make things worse, didn't they? Show off, he added to his thoughts, thinking of his sinister cousin.

"Well, father, I haven't really felt the need to explain all the details of my personal life, seeing as they are not warmly greeted anyway. And you can't hardly call your grandchild a surprise, now can you?" he snapped.

"Lissandra Zabini is going to have my son in about six months from now. Does that answer your question, Brun?"
 
"Zabini?" Valcan snorted. "Well, at least you've had the sense to go pureblood. Not that tramps are the top of the line, but it's your preference. Do you plan on marrying her? Please dear Merlin no."
 
"Hell no," Tristan snarled through gritted teeth. That was his last thought in the world at the moment. He never planned on marrying Lissandra, his son had just happened.

"But at least you'll have a grandson."
 
Valcan snorted, "Really, Tristan, how many grandchildren do I really have out there? I'm beginning to think that it's more than two." He laughed, turning to Sammael. "Any children that I don't know about, just so we can get things clarified?" He was enjoying the conflict.
 
"No surprise grandchildren from me. I cannot speak for Tristan though. He was never the most careful person." It felt just like old times. Sammael getting on Tristan's nerves and Valcan siding with him, joining in on the fun.
 
"I'm an adult, I don't really believe this is necessary," Tristan snapped, his temper rising. He knew that they were both trying to piss him off, and it was working.

"You don't seem to be doing too well with home life either, Sammael, so I wouldn't be talking."
 
"On the contrary, I rather like being alone. Unlike some, I do not need the affections of a promiscuous woman."
 
Tristan raised an eyebrow, his face flushing a beet red. "To each his own."

"Although I think you're lying to me. You're irritated with Morgase, but you refuse to show it."
 
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