Oh, instincts are misleading.

"Fabricated?" Milo repeated, beginning to be upset. "Fabricated! Oh really!" Milo did not mind quarreling with Alistair, they had grown quite accostomed to it over the years really, but to be called a liar in regards to someone he cared about. Milo had done his research. This was not the first d'Eath house he had visited. No, he had seen Damitrius. He had seen Lucifer. He had seen and heard enough to have more than a vague idea of the d'Eath's current affairs.

"Yes, I'm the one with fake, wavering affections. Tell me- what do you think of Marissa's husband. Because, from what I've gathered, he seems like he really loves her. How many of you lot have disgraced her for him?" Milo shook his head. "Don't you every call one of my familial relations fabricated."

Milo rolled his eyes. "Do you all honestly believe d'Eath and Death Eaters are synonymous? Last I checked, one has an apostrophe, and the other has another word. I left one, it was never a declaration of leaving the others. I think my presence here says a whole lot more of my own care for family, and your actions have proven your own. I'm not one to turn my back on family."

Milo stared at the younger man, waiting. He would go on his own terms. He was not done. He would not let Alistair face his words without Milo's eyes trained on him. He wanted to see him react, hear him react. Milo was trying to see if any bonds could be reunited. Alistair was the one turning his back on him.

Damien was getting uncomfortable. He didn't like what this strange man was saying about his mother. After all, he had spent all of his boyhood with her. What lies the Mudbloods must be spreading about her! It pained him to see that her reputation had become one of goodness, kindness, and the like. After all, despite her bad choice of marriage, she still had her prejudices. Her husband was an exception, and true love was cited to be the reason. It was for that reason that Damien had become wary of the whole obsession with love. Everyone was doing it these days. The adults, and then the teenagers sucking at each others' faces all around him, these days. Even so, Marissa Knight still had her prejudices. She was a born and bred Pureblood Witch of high standing. It was for certain reasons that she had first joined the Ministry as an Obliviator, and it was for that reason that she was still one. In her mind, there were still divisions among groups of people. Only her husband understood, and loved her all the same. They were, after all, each others' exceptions; and certainly, each others' one true amazingly bizarre love story.

And so it pained the boy, what with the lies that now seemed to be spread about his mother, what with a picture painted of her unbiased nature and penchant to hide people?! Merlin, Damien blinked and shook his head. Even she would never go that far. She still loved her family and all that it stood for. There was just a limit to this, and she picked her extraordinary lover over her still unceasing prejudices. And in that moment of realisation, the boy pitied her. It was, of course, not a fancy feeling to be having towards your mother. Yet, he knew she would be offended at the rumours about her. After all, she was a private person. Her matters were personal, too. The fact that it had all gotten out into the public, and how it had all reshaped her reputation ... he needed to owl her. Yes, he resolved. She was his mother, after all. And even he couldn't pretend not to care when he knew the possible extent of her pain. At the end of it all, he was still mummy's boy.

Whatever Alistair said to Milo swirled past his mind. Damien was too caught up in that moment of misery for his mother. How horrible, those Mudbloods. Hadn't that man already gotten his mother bewitched? Must he also rampage on her reputation? Unfortunately, Damien caught the words spoken by the stranger. A lump formed at his jaw, as he clenched it tightly in a look of menace to him. "I have never disgraced her!" He was hurt now. Had she not always written to tell her that she loved him? Had she not always still maintained how proud she was that he was becoming his own man, performing better than expected at school? What was this then? Did she tell others that she was ashamed of him? His mother! The boy's jaw trembled as he struggled to mask the signs of pain to the betrayal he hoped would be clarified as soon as he wrote to her. He couldn't believe it was possible that she was ashamed of him. She said she loved him!

Just like that, the scowl of a defiant teenager was replaced by expressions of hurt of a boy who had to hear from another of a possible personal betrayal of his mother. Why are you doing this to me?! He thought in his head, glaring at Milo with accusatory eyes. This was barely what he imagined his day to be. He didn't wake up expecting to doubt his mother's love for him. Surely, even with the typical traits of a Slytherin, she couldn't be a hypocrite to her own son? Damien was close to tears, but he fought them, still. He was going to be a young man, now. How was he going to face the future knowing that he had cried in front of a stranger who brought words of hurt just on a random Sunday morning? No, he couldn't. Damien breathed harder, hoping to find his calm and the strength for composure. No, he was not going to believe it all, he was not going to jump into conclusions; not until his mother's reply. He wanted nothing more now but to run for his owl. Dharma would still be asleep in his bedroom at this time, but Damien couldn't wait.

Damien opened his mouth, making to speak. Yet, he shut it quickly. How was he going to sound, to ask to be excused to go write to his mother? What? Run away to cry to mummy? He stood his ground, battling his new hurt, hoping that he could soon find a way to get out of this situation to go write to her.