"Mr. Malfoy Sells Some More Stuff"
NOTE: I'm sure you all remember the part towards the beginning of "The Chamber of Secrets" when Mr. Malfoy goes into 'Borgin and Burkes' to sell some of the incriminating stuff in his house. This is just a silly parody poking fun at that. I by NO means own ANYTHING having to do with Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling is a total genius. Oh yes, and even though I'm making fun of them, I like both of the Malfoy's in this story.
Mr. Malfoy entered 'Borgin and Burkes', his son Draco trailing at his heels, looking in every direction completely fascinated as though he had never seen any Dark Arts apparel in his life. Meanwhile, their entire manor at home was nearly covered in the stuff.
Which was why Mr. Malfoy was here today.
The store was deserted. Mr. Malfoy strode forward and rang the bell on the counter.
"You said you were going to buy me another present! Everytime we say that we end up coming into this store!" whined Draco as his father continued to look increasingly annoyed. "How am I going to show Harry Potter how rich I am if you never buy me anything? He's pretty rich himself, you know. I heard Ron Weasley whining about it, the dirtbag. 'Harry Potter has this, and Harry Potter bought that'. And then, father. You know what else? Harry Potter--"
"Oh, shut up about Harry Potter!" snapped Mr. Malfoy, shocking his son into submission. "That's all you ever talk about all day long and I'm sick of it! Didn't I tell you to pretend you love him? And what did you do instead?"
Draco, hanging his head, replied, "Pushed him in the mud."
"You *pushed him in the mud*," scolded his father, heaving a sigh. "Really. I suppose next you'll be holding out sticks for him to trip on."
"No," added Draco, "I did that already."
Mr. Borgin entered then, smiling until he saw who stood at his counter. Seeing Mr. Malfoy's face made him frown for an instant before he smiled again, fakely, and approached the man. "Oh! Mr. Malfoy! Back again, I see. A pleasure to see you."
"Yes, well I was looking in my attic one day for my old game of 'Throw The Knife At The Muggle' game for Draco when I suddenly came across a box of items that...could not be good if the ministry were to search my enormous and impressive house." He removed a list from his pocket.
"Oh. More stuff to sell," said Borgin, looking throughly disappointed. "Well, let's see what you have then."
Handing the store owner the list, Mr. Malfoy said, "Don't move, Draco."
Draco froze midstep, one arm stopped at a throughly unconveient angle. "Really?"
"Yes, really," snapped his father. "I'm sure *Harry Potter* is capable of staying in the same awkward position for several minutes."
Draco's eyes narrowed and he muttered bad things about Harry.
"Well, let's see..." Mr. Borgin's spectacle enhanced eyes glazed over the list. "A 'A Proud Member of The Death Eaters' t-shirt, a poster that has the Dark Mark and reads 'Death Eaters Rock', three bumper sticker:, 'Lord Voldemort for President', 'My Son's A Future Death Eater' and 'My Other Broom Runs Over Muggles', multiple pictures of you at Lord Voldemort's birthday party, including one of you standing next to him and the birthday cake giving the camera a thumbs up... two patches, one of the Dark Mark and one that reads 'Death Eaters Forever', a pennent that says 'Malfoy Death Eater #4', A 'My Father Is One of Lord Voldemort's Inner Circle And All He Bought Me Is This T-shirt' shirt, child's medium, A CD called 'Songs To Use The Unforgivable Curses By' and several of Lord Voldemort's own personal belongings, including his toothbrush and his memiors entitled 'What the Dark Arts Did For Me It Can Do For You'. Well..." He placed down the list and his spectacles neatly, not making eye contact with the man before him. "You surely make a detailed list."
"I'm going to miss that stuff," said Malfoy with a dreamy sigh. "Especially that CD. It has 'Criminal' by Fiona Apple on it."
"Can I move now?" requested Draco, his one supporting leg trembling like a branch in the wind.
"No talking," snapped his father.
Draco whimpered.
"So, Mr. Borgin," began Mr. Malfoy again, smiling creepily. "What will you give me for the box?"
Borgin made an offer.
"Are you kidding?!" replied Mr. Malfoy, ruffled and offended by what was said. "They don't make them like this anymore!"
Borgin sighed and reluctantly made another offer.
"That's better," said Malfoy, straightening his cloaks snottily. "Come by my impressive and enormous mansion tomorrow to pick them up. ...While you're there you can also take my doorbell that plays the Lord Voldemort victory anthem."
"Of course." Borgin rolled his eyes.
Mr. Malfoy turned to leave. "Draco! We're leaving." He headed for the door.
Draco didn't budge. He only turned his head a little to look as his father headed out, his knee wobbling wildy.
Stopping at the door, Mr. Malfoy turned back, scowling. "You can move now, stupid."
Glad to be able to move again, Draco began skipping in his father's direction. "Can I have a present now?"
"No."
"Can you buy me candy then?"
"No."
"*Ohhhhhhh*! But Harry *Potter* always gets a ton of candy!"
"Well let his teeth rot. *You* need to have nice teeth for when the Dark Lord returns. He kills people with bad teeth."
"But... If he's going to come back... Why are you selling all your stuff? You're not a very loyal supporter!"
Mr. Malfoy faltered a moment. Then he told his son to shut up and slammed the store door shut.
NOTE: I'm sure you all remember the part towards the beginning of "The Chamber of Secrets" when Mr. Malfoy goes into 'Borgin and Burkes' to sell some of the incriminating stuff in his house. This is just a silly parody poking fun at that. I by NO means own ANYTHING having to do with Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling is a total genius. Oh yes, and even though I'm making fun of them, I like both of the Malfoy's in this story.
Mr. Malfoy entered 'Borgin and Burkes', his son Draco trailing at his heels, looking in every direction completely fascinated as though he had never seen any Dark Arts apparel in his life. Meanwhile, their entire manor at home was nearly covered in the stuff.
Which was why Mr. Malfoy was here today.
The store was deserted. Mr. Malfoy strode forward and rang the bell on the counter.
"You said you were going to buy me another present! Everytime we say that we end up coming into this store!" whined Draco as his father continued to look increasingly annoyed. "How am I going to show Harry Potter how rich I am if you never buy me anything? He's pretty rich himself, you know. I heard Ron Weasley whining about it, the dirtbag. 'Harry Potter has this, and Harry Potter bought that'. And then, father. You know what else? Harry Potter--"
"Oh, shut up about Harry Potter!" snapped Mr. Malfoy, shocking his son into submission. "That's all you ever talk about all day long and I'm sick of it! Didn't I tell you to pretend you love him? And what did you do instead?"
Draco, hanging his head, replied, "Pushed him in the mud."
"You *pushed him in the mud*," scolded his father, heaving a sigh. "Really. I suppose next you'll be holding out sticks for him to trip on."
"No," added Draco, "I did that already."
Mr. Borgin entered then, smiling until he saw who stood at his counter. Seeing Mr. Malfoy's face made him frown for an instant before he smiled again, fakely, and approached the man. "Oh! Mr. Malfoy! Back again, I see. A pleasure to see you."
"Yes, well I was looking in my attic one day for my old game of 'Throw The Knife At The Muggle' game for Draco when I suddenly came across a box of items that...could not be good if the ministry were to search my enormous and impressive house." He removed a list from his pocket.
"Oh. More stuff to sell," said Borgin, looking throughly disappointed. "Well, let's see what you have then."
Handing the store owner the list, Mr. Malfoy said, "Don't move, Draco."
Draco froze midstep, one arm stopped at a throughly unconveient angle. "Really?"
"Yes, really," snapped his father. "I'm sure *Harry Potter* is capable of staying in the same awkward position for several minutes."
Draco's eyes narrowed and he muttered bad things about Harry.
"Well, let's see..." Mr. Borgin's spectacle enhanced eyes glazed over the list. "A 'A Proud Member of The Death Eaters' t-shirt, a poster that has the Dark Mark and reads 'Death Eaters Rock', three bumper sticker:, 'Lord Voldemort for President', 'My Son's A Future Death Eater' and 'My Other Broom Runs Over Muggles', multiple pictures of you at Lord Voldemort's birthday party, including one of you standing next to him and the birthday cake giving the camera a thumbs up... two patches, one of the Dark Mark and one that reads 'Death Eaters Forever', a pennent that says 'Malfoy Death Eater #4', A 'My Father Is One of Lord Voldemort's Inner Circle And All He Bought Me Is This T-shirt' shirt, child's medium, A CD called 'Songs To Use The Unforgivable Curses By' and several of Lord Voldemort's own personal belongings, including his toothbrush and his memiors entitled 'What the Dark Arts Did For Me It Can Do For You'. Well..." He placed down the list and his spectacles neatly, not making eye contact with the man before him. "You surely make a detailed list."
"I'm going to miss that stuff," said Malfoy with a dreamy sigh. "Especially that CD. It has 'Criminal' by Fiona Apple on it."
"Can I move now?" requested Draco, his one supporting leg trembling like a branch in the wind.
"No talking," snapped his father.
Draco whimpered.
"So, Mr. Borgin," began Mr. Malfoy again, smiling creepily. "What will you give me for the box?"
Borgin made an offer.
"Are you kidding?!" replied Mr. Malfoy, ruffled and offended by what was said. "They don't make them like this anymore!"
Borgin sighed and reluctantly made another offer.
"That's better," said Malfoy, straightening his cloaks snottily. "Come by my impressive and enormous mansion tomorrow to pick them up. ...While you're there you can also take my doorbell that plays the Lord Voldemort victory anthem."
"Of course." Borgin rolled his eyes.
Mr. Malfoy turned to leave. "Draco! We're leaving." He headed for the door.
Draco didn't budge. He only turned his head a little to look as his father headed out, his knee wobbling wildy.
Stopping at the door, Mr. Malfoy turned back, scowling. "You can move now, stupid."
Glad to be able to move again, Draco began skipping in his father's direction. "Can I have a present now?"
"No."
"Can you buy me candy then?"
"No."
"*Ohhhhhhh*! But Harry *Potter* always gets a ton of candy!"
"Well let his teeth rot. *You* need to have nice teeth for when the Dark Lord returns. He kills people with bad teeth."
"But... If he's going to come back... Why are you selling all your stuff? You're not a very loyal supporter!"
Mr. Malfoy faltered a moment. Then he told his son to shut up and slammed the store door shut.