A snippet
‘Who the devil is Lord Lambourn, and why is he asking me to luncheon at his club?’
‘What?’ Draco snatched the letter from Harry’s hand. ‘So they’re renewing their frayed family ties, are they?’
‘What?’
‘You have seen Lord Stod Withers on your choccy-frogs cards, I trust? Well, his grandmother was a Potter; Lambourn’s his, what, something-times-nephew. Lambourn’s son, who has the courtesy title of Lord Aintree, also turned out to be a Wizard, he’s about Remus’s age, went to Beauxbatons, they were keeping their heads down rather so long as Tom Riddle was about -’
‘His mum was a Potter? Withers’s mum, that is?’
‘Grandmother, Harry: it was his grandmother. Stod Withers’s mother came of an old, East Anglian, gentry family near Newmarket, better known to historians for keeping stupefyingly detailed records of their daily correspondence, back to the Wars of the Roses, than for any magical talent. Oh, come, now, surely even you have heard of the Pastern Letters?’