"I think that is enough from you," A voice boomed from within the vault. An older Lucius Malfoy staggered out, using his cane to steady his strides. "One more snide comment about my grandson’s blood status and you will see yourself out of the hefty amount of gallons I’ve assured would come once my son is done picking out a ring for the muggle-born love of his life will vanish more, and more with each look, sneer, or jeer." 