Perfection
Lucius Malfoy stared longingly at his peacocks. How unfair was his life that he could not be with them. He loved spending time with them; it was one of his favorite things in life. They were way better than his wife and son. They were the only things in his life that made him look and feel good.
His son was an idiot, who ruined everything he came in contact with. His wife only cared for herself, and her 'secret' love affair with Rodolphus Lastrange (Really how stupid did they think he was, he knew about it since before they were married).
Then there was the Dark Lord, who was actually the reason he was unable to spend time with his peacocks. With the Dark Lord staying in his house, it was impossible to do anything of interest. All that you could do was what he deemed you could do. And that was very little. Anything that did not please him was out of the question. Everything that was to please yourself did not please him therefore you could not do it.
The peacocks let him do whatever he pleased, say whatever he liked. Added on to that, they were a magnificent and extremely fancy bird that only served to make him look better when he was with them, not themselves. In a word, the peacocks were perfection.
-The End-