A/N: this is a bit silly but was a lot of fun to write. shalimar1981 gave me the idea in chat and the muse went with it. reviews feed the soul (and the muse). :)
The Annual Board Meeting, or, Playing Fair
The man timidly grasped the door knocker with his hand, gulping as he let it drop onto the huge white-washed wooden door with a thud. Looking over one shoulder, then the other, he stood in the dimly-lit doorway waiting for the door to open. He didn't know which was scarier, the dark, foreboding garden behind him, or the unknown person (or persons) on the other side of the door.
Slowly the door inched open silently and a house elf answered, its hands clenched together nervously. "How can I be helping you, Sir?"
"I'm from the Ministry," the man said, waving a badge and a slip of paper toward the elf. "I'm here to inspect the property and question certain persons about reports of a Magical Disturbance."
The elf opened the door wider, beckoning him into the entrance hall of the manor. "Be waiting here, and I tell Master," the house elf told him before disappearing with a 'crack'.
Looking around the entrance hall, decorated in blues and whites, the man felt his nerves come back with a vengeance. Here he was, only just qualified as a Magical Disturbance Investigator and he'd been sent to one of the most notorious houses in the country. Malfoy Manor! At night! ALONE! He almost turned and fled, but as the thought crossed his mind, the far doorway opened and non other than Lucius Malfoy himself stepped though.
"M-M-Mr Malfoy," the man greeted, stuttering over his words.
"Yes? How can I help you, Mr...?" Lucius Malfoy paused, obviously awaiting a name.
"Oh, Mr Stoke," the man answered, offering his hand. It wasn't taken. "I'm here on Ministry business. There were reports of three Magical Disturbances tonight and I've come to check–"
"Well, Mr Stoke, I can assure you that everything is fine," Malfoy said, interrupting the man's carefully prepared speech and folding his arms across his chest in a rather threatening manner.
"I'm sorry, but I have to check the rooms, Mr Malfoy. I'm sure you understand that it is required. By law," Mr Stoke spoke slowly, his nerves obviously showing.
"Yes, well... Mr Stoke, I'm afraid I'm entertaining right now, and your inspection might... spoil things," Malfoy said, his eyes darting towards the door he'd entered from for a moment.
"Well, I'm sorry, but... I have to insist." Mr Stoke stood his ground, holding his hands behind his back to hide their shaking. "I have a signed warrant of search and questioning and if necessary I can call the Aurors..."
Lucius Malfoy's lip curled up in a most unpleasant manner for a moment as he observed the man before him. "Very well," he bit out, and turned, robes flaring very impressively as he moved towards the door. "This way."
Nodding, Stoke straightened his shoulders and followed the owner though the door and into a dimly lit corridor that ran the length of the house. As they walked towards the first closed door – which had light coming from under the bottom edge – Stoke thought about all the rumours that circulated in the Ministry offices about what went on at Lucius Malfoy's 'parties'. It was well known that he was a Death Eater, but it wasn't outright discussed. Oh, no. Doing things like that were a sure fire way to ensure you ended up dead some place horrid if you weren't careful.
Taking a deep breath, Stoke stopped behind Mr Malfoy as the man turned to him, one hand on the door handle. "Mr Stoke. I realise that you are bound by your job to investigate what goes on in my house tonight, but I also know that you are in no way required to divulge activities viewed here to anyone unless they are breaking the law. Yes?" His hand gripped the door knob tighter, knuckles turning white.
"Uh, yes, that's true," Mr Stoke answered, his interest unavoidably peaked.
"Well then I'm sure that what you are about to disturb in the name of your duty, will not be repeated to anyone anywhere, am I correct? After all, it wouldn't do for a man such as yourself to suffer accidentally as a result of discussing things he has no place to." Malfoy's eyes glinted in the dim light and Mr Stoke nodded.
"Well then let us get this room 'inspected' so my guests can be left in peace, shall we?" Opening the door, he ushered Mr Stoke in.
Stoke swallowed hard as he walked into the room, unsure at what to expect. What he found was, admittedly, one thing he hadn't even considered.
Of the two mental lists Stoke had made on his journey to the Manor, what Mr Stoke saw in front of him now wasn't on the first (Entitled; Lucius Malfoy's Living Room – Things I Could Find), nor was it on the second (Lucius Malfoy's Living Room – Things That I Could Find If I Listened To All Those Rumours).
No. What Mr Stoke saw as he entered the room was, quite simply, a chaotic mess of men – and one woman – all crowded around a coffee table. Some were sat on chairs, others on stools obviously conjured or transfigured from something else. One or two sat on the floor.
Shouts of 'That's not real!', 'We're playing this in English, not French' and 'You made that up!' could be heard from the moment the door was opened and Mr Stoke was at a loss as to what was going on.
"You see, Mr Stoke," Lucius Malfoy said from his place to the man's left. "We're currently playing our annual Scrabble game."
"We?" Mr Stoke enquired, cursing his stupidity when all he received in reply was a raised eyebrow.
"Scrabble is a Muggle board game, you see," Malfoy explained, continuing as if nothing had been said. "You take it in turns spelling out words on the board using the tiles you have. Each tile has a letter on it."
"Right," Mr Stoke replied, brows drawn together in confusion. "But, if that's all that is going on, why have I had reports of Misuse of Magic?"
"Ah, well." Lucius Malfoy closed the door and, gesturing for him to remain where he was, moved across the room and tapped a shoulder of one of the men around the board game. "Nott, you have a visitor," he said, gesturing to Stoke.
"What? But. Oh, bugger, he's here cause I–"
"Yes," Malfoy said.
"And cause I–"
"Yes, that, too."
"But what about–"
"No she did that to you personally, it doesn't count."
"But she–"
"Doesn't count either."
Stoke watched as Lucius and Nott spoke just within his range of hearing, amused at how Lucius knew exactly what Nott was referring to without him needing to finish the questions.
As they walked towards him they continued to speak.
"She did make it up, Luce, it doesn't exist. I even got Snape to check for us. He said I was stupid for needing him to though."
"Yes, but that's no reason for you to have cheated, Nott. You do this every year."
"I know, I can't help it. I mean it's a game for Merlin's sake but I get so irritated when Bells makes words up."
"So do I, but you don't see me hexing her tiles to change letter every three seconds."
"I know. But come on, I mean 'Voldemortarian'? How's that a word?"
Lucius shrugged his shoulders elegantly and turned to Stoke as the came to a stop. "Mr Stoke, this is Mr Nott. Mr Nott here is responsible for the Magical Disturbance you've picked up."
"Ah, right. And, uh, Mr Nott, what may I ask was the cause of these disturbances? I have to ask, I'm afraid, its policy to get a statement from the offender so to speak, for records and such." he gabbled as he took out his Quick-Notes quill and parchment.
"Fine," Nott sighed. Pulling a chair from out under the small dining table to the right of the doorway and gesturing for Stoke to sit, he spoke, "Look, it's like this. We were playing and Bella – that's Bellatrix Lestrange – put some tiles down to make a word that doesn't exist. I argued the point and because she refused to change them I hexed all her tiles to stick to her forehead. She got mad and hexed me back. So I hexed her other tiles to change letter every three seconds."
"Don't forget the cheating," Lucius added. He was stood watching Nott confess, almost like a mother making sure a child said sorry properly.
"Yeah, that too. I may have charmed a couple of my tiles to make different letters. Scrabble isn't easy at the best of times but when all you have is consonants it's hard not to whip your wand out and charm one or two into vowels."
Stoke nodded and allowed his Quick-Notes quill to take the statement down. "Right..."
"Mr Stoke," Lucius Malfoy spoke again moving to lean against the table's edge. "The magic misuse would have registered because of the Scrabble tiles being Muggle. It was only bought yesterday – we get a new one in each year because a certain someone is suspicious about charms and hexes – so the magic would still have registered as being out of ordinary use... am I right?"
"OI NOTT! It's your turn, you loser," someone shouted across the room, making the three of them pause and look in that direction. "Are you coming or what? Snapey just made a killing on the triple word score though, so I'm not sure there's much point in even trying at this stage."
"One minute!" Nott yelled back before turning Mr Stoke. "Well? Anything else? I'm not going to get in trouble, right? Only my mum will never let me hear the end of it if I do."
"Mother...?" Mr Stoke tentatively repeated.
"Yeah, I still live at home. S'not bad and the savings I make are amazing. Mum wants me there, so what can I do?" he replied as he stood. "Well, thanks," he said, shaking Mr Stoke's limp hand before hot-footing it back to the game.
Mr Stoke just sat there for a moment before Malfoy coughed politely. "Is that all you needed, Mr Stoke?" he asked.
"Oh, yes! Sorry, was a little dazed then. It's not often you hear of a forty-something year old man still living with his parents these days..."
Lucius smirked and, under his breath he whispered. "If you'd met his mother you'd understand. I've never met a woman so controlling and...ugh... smothering." He shuddered at his recollection.
Standing, Mr Stoke collected the Quick-Notes quill and turned to Mr Malfoy, ready to leave. As they approached the door, however, a voice rang out across the room.
"There is NO WAY that's a word, Snapey," Nott declared loudly. Malfoy stopped just as he was about to open the door, a painful look on his face as he turned to Stoke. "One moment, Mr Stoke," he said. Under his breath Mr Stoke heard him mutter, 'like babysitting two year olds', to himself.
"It is so, you imbecile. It's hardly my fault you don't read enough to know it."
"If it were a real word, I would!" Nott cried, standing up, fists balled at his sides.
"It is a real word," Snape repeated, his tone stern.
"Not."
"Is."
"Is not," Nott said petulantly, his face beginning to turn red.
"IS." Snape said once more, the tone of his voice now showing he was enjoying himself.
Lucius, who had crossed the room during this rally spoke up then, gesturing with his arms for Nott to sit down and calm down. "Now, let's see. What word is in question?" he asked, turning to Snape for an answer.
"...Snermione," came the mumbled reply.
"I... ah," Lucius replied, looking down at the board.
"See?" Nott crowed, "Lucy-boy doesn't know what it is either!"
"That is hardly my fault," Snape replied smugly. "For it IS indeed a word."
"Where is it from, Severus?" Lucius asked, his tone tentative.
"It's from... various sources. But I doubt you'd know them," he said.
"AH! So you admit it's made up!" Nott came in.
"No. It. Is. Real." Snape repeated slowly as if talking to a child. "I just doubt that someone of your intellect has ever come across it."
"What's that supposed to mean!?" Nott said angrily. "I read!"
"Now, now, gents, let's not get angry," Lucius soothed. "Can you cite a reference, Severus?"
Mr Stoke realised that Mr Malfoy was obviously going to be engaged for a while and so, opening the door quietly and unnoticed, he slipped out into the hallway and headed for the front door.
Snermione indeed, he thought to himself, head shaking in amusement.
Lumione, he'd heard of that, but Snermione? Hmm, he'd have to do some more on-line reading to see about that one.