"Mind the frame, Tibby," Narcissa said in warning, as the house elf lowered another portrait to the ground. Lucius' great-aunt looked around stiffly, putting down the book in her hands. Cleaning was going on.
The entrance hall was, of course, always kept neat and tidy. Dust along the top of the frames where no one could see wasn't tolerated, and Tibby was houseproud enough not to cut corners. But every now and again - not often, it had been over a decade since these portraits had last received such treatment - they had to be cleaned and preserved. Yes, those in this room hadn't been restored since before the first war. They wouldn't have needed it so soon, but Narcissa was beginning to notice the dulling effects that spells and smoke had had.
The most expensive portraits and paintings were handled by a specialist who charged a great sum of money. Lesser artwork (and Narcissa held the many paintings of Lucius' various family members to be in such a category) did not need such careful handling; brightening the paint, refreshing the varnish and removing dirt from pigment were tasks that could be accomplished by any sufficiently skilled wizard. Narcissa tended not to trust it to a house elf, however, after Dobby had once left a painting of Lucius' maternal great-grandmother - a relative of Narcissa's as well - with smarting red cheeks and a rash.
"Ah, Narcissa," said the great-aunt, as the lady of the house strode over. Tibby snapped his fingers and an easel appeared; he reverently placed the portrait on it so that it was at Narcissa's height. "I really must protest at the way you allow your son to spend so little time in the house of his ancestors. It's quite unaccepta- mmphh!" She spluttered as Narcissa directed a ball of cotton wool over the painting: soaked in Emulson's Patented Varnish Remover, the protective layer of slowly discolouring varnish was stripped away. The great-aunt glared at the indignity as she was exposed, but Narcissa preferred the silence and let her glower away.