The only logical conclusion that Alphard could draw from his great nephew not knowing him was that somehow, in some way, he must have died before the boy was born. If that was true, he would have died awfully young from a magical standpoint. He just couldn't imagine what could have possibly killed him. It wasn't like he put himself into unnecessarily dangerous situations ... well, at least not all the time. Surely none of the ones he found himself in could get him killed though. And if that was truly the case, then what could have possibly done away with him? Alphard frowned, looking down at the tumbler of scotch in his hand and gently swooshed the liquid around. He had yet to take a sip, but Walburga had asked and he, of course, complied.
As much as he wanted to know what would happen to him in the future, he felt awful for asking his sister. Something was clearly very wrong and it was entirely his fault for bringing it up. Still, whatever it was, it wasn't like it would affect them here and now. It would most certainly be awful because it was becoming clear that his life was cut far too short, but that didn't apply here. It was years off. Bellatrix knew him after all and she was almost a proper adult here. Looking up when he heard the soft creak of the stairs, he met his sister's stoic form and tried not to frown. Unlike Walburga, Alphard did not maintain proper posture, leaning forward on the couch with his elbows on his knees, tumbler clasped between his hands. "I've already poured you a glass." he replied, offering her a small smile as his head nodded towards the glass on the table before turning back to her. Nodding his head in agreement, he cleared his throat and said "Yes. Positive."