A/n: My first one-shot. Written in a similar style to Carol Ann Duffy's poem, Education for Leisure.
Disclaimer: please note I own nothing but the plot.
Anxiety for Leisure
It is a sunny day around Malfoy Manor. That much can be said by simply looking through the floor-to-ceiling, four metre 'cross window, just to the left of where we stand, at present. Looking more closely, however, you can see, or at least I can, that though the sun is shining and the sky is blue, the wind and snow tell that it is bitterly cold. In the distance, I can be seen, a group of children. They have set up four bases in a circle facing inwards and are throwing snowballs at each other. By the looks of their tight huddles, which you can just about see with good eyes, or a good pair of glasses in my case, they have been at this for some time.
Usually, on a day like this, the Malfoys would be sat in the study, the fire blazing, duvets rapped around whomever should care for one, a cup of hot chocolate sat on the nearest available flat surface, usually a book shelf as the room is covered in them, and a good and lengthy book in their hands, by this time they'd be a good quarter of the way through it. We know this because of the A3 sized painting of the aforementioned scene, to our right.
Today though, is a drastically different scene. There is no fire, no hot chocolate, no book, and no one is sat in the study, duvet-covered, or otherwise. The fire, here is not lit, and no self respecting House Elf would heat less than all the rooms in such a drafty house. No, today there is only one Malfoy in the Manor. He's rather pale, his skin matches the white of the parchment in front of him, his eyes matched the silver of his Quill. His blonde hair, which we can see from our place behind him, is well kempt and nearly silver. He's tall and thin, yet there are muscles on his arms, he must be a Quidditch player. He's sat in this bitterly cold room, it is his bedroom, I believe. But who is this youth? If the signet ring on his finger is anything to go by, I'd say he's the head of the house, of the family, but how can that be? He's so young! 17 at most! Of course if he is 17, he's legally of age. But still… a bit… odd, don't you think?
Oh excellent, he's begun writing. This should explain these strange circumstances.
Dear Mrs Perks,
Intriguing. I wonder who she is?
Because of the recent circumstances…
Oh dear, I don't think that was quite necessary. I couldn't see anything wrong with that opening. But I'm sure he knows better. Whoever he is.
Dear Miss M Perks,
As you informed me in your last letter, though it was hardly necessary, as I was there, not yourself, a certain situation has occurred that throws the Malfoy name into question. These circumstances, as you have so brilliantly..
Sarcasm much?
…pointed out in your letter, are cause for some concern. However, that concern will be banished. As you, and any other blibbering fool that works in the pathetic organisation you call a Ministry of Magic, will know, I am of age as of the night of aforementioned situation.
Er… not to be complaining or anything, but what the hell was this 'aforementioned situation'? Anyone? No?
It has been seven days since then. It is plain to everyone at my school what happen. My garb of woe is hard to miss and since I have no contact with anyone else outside of Hogwarts, it is blatantly obvious that my Parents have died.
Oh…
I have obviously been grieving and was everything but positive while reading your letter. I must correct you on some statements. These will be listed following:
1. I am, and always have been, a respected member of this family, however much some of my mothers side deem me not to be. Mind you, they married muggles and blood traitors, so they are of little importance, don't you think?
His face is contorting.
2. I have no 'criminal record' to quote you. That matter where I was dragged up in front of the Wizengamot was completely innocent. I was simply acting as a witness, this seems to have escalated into something far more sinister. The full trial details are available in the Ministry Library.
3. I agree, my father did leave everything to my mother in his will, and I agree that my mother had no will. However. I am next of kin seeing as I am of age. I disagree that all the Malfoy positions should pass to my mothers family as I only have one aunt worthy of such a vast estate and fortune. The one problem being her imprisonment in that god forsaken place in the middle of nowhere. Also, she has a large inheritance from my Grandfather, so would have no use for any more.
4. You are completely and utterly wrong, you pathetic excuse for a lawyer. You can do nothing of the House Elf services! They answer to the name Malfoy. I hold that name. The last remaining Malfoy. You may try all you wish to free these creatures, but it will not be accomplished.
I give you my reasons for this in strict confidence, so I expect that they will be in the Daily Prophet tomorrow, with a copy of this letter. And the one you wrote previously. I assure you that if that
He seems to be ok!
I assure you that if that if that does happen…
How could anyone be this ok…
… there will be dire consequences…
… when their parents have been dead less than a month?
… of which, I shall not write, a further prosecution would ensue.
In fact, how could anyone be so calm after their parents died?
I also have received information about the cause of death. I tell you now HE did it. Who else but the one they chose to ignore. It was a just, yet not wise, decision. They were murdered.
Him… someone has to stop Him.
I trust you will receive this letter in good time. And I wish you an, exactly week late, Merry Christmas.
Oh my!
Yours…
The poor boy!
Sincerely…
On Christmas! How could He?!
Lucius Malfoy.
"What? Who did you think I was?" he says with a smirk.
A/n: Who did you think I was writing about? Draco? Nope.