an eagle soars over the den of snakes, deaf to the old lion's roar (Harry Potter)
“Nobody knows where this Dark Lord came from, Father. Must we—”
“Are you questioning me, Lucius?” asked Abraxas in a soft voice.
The young man wavered before lowering his eyes.
“No, Father.”
His hand was trembling.
Aquila blinked, staring at her hand with a puzzled expression. Lucius followed her gaze.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
The little girl shrugged before reaffirming her hold on her father’s neck.
“I don’t want to see Grandfather. He seems mean,” she said simply.
Her father’s brows furrowed.
“You haven’t met him yet.” He paused. “Did the house elves say something to you?”
She shook her head, burying her face in his shoulders. Sensing he wouldn’t get any response out of her, he sighed and ruffled her curls.
“The portraits talk too much,” he mumbled. “Very well, we won’t go this week. But we will have to introduce you soon enough. Father may not be Lord Malfoy anymore but he is still our Patriarch.”
Aquila grumbled a little before nodding. He put the discussion out of his mind. Perhaps he shouldn’t have.