... they were nowhere near as high up as her son seemed to think they were.
Nor were they anywhere near her nephew who would, by the time he turned 16 or got married to the Greengrass girl, would become Lord-Potter-Black-Greengrass-Slytherin-Gryffindor-Peverell. Now that was a boy she could say she was proud to be related to. He was only 11 approaching 12 years old, but even at his young age he was the same height as Draco who was 3 years his senior, handsome and not to mention powerful; she'd seen him using wandless magic! And the boy was Slytherin to the core. She'd seen him at only 5 years old manipulate the Minister for Magic himself into allowing him to use a wand before he came of age, unlike her idiot of a husband who had to bribe the Minister for the simplest of things.
Harry was everything a Pureblood Lord should dream of becoming, and the irony was he wasn't Pureblooded. She'd danced with him for years at balls and social gathering her family was known to frequent, he was bold, and took what he wanted like a true leader. As soon as his bloodline had manifested he'd took to it like a real man; even going as far as groping her several times. Not that she was against such an action or minded in the least, her husband was a sub-par lover, and it wasn't like she blamed the boy for his tastes; she'd heard hundreds of young men call ...