Better Than A Bird?
Lucius sat in the garden, musing over what Travers had said to him. Was he really a vain prig? Lucius didn't think so. After all, he was always charming to little Cissa, wasn't he? Prigs weren't usually charming.
Suddenly, a loud cawing interrupted his thoughts. One of his father's prize peacocks strutted past, flaring its fine fancy tail for all to see. Lucius scowled, fingering his wand.
"Stupid bird. Even it thinks itself better than me," he muttered darkly.
Another caw sealed the creature's fate. A flash of blue light and a perfect peacock statue took the living bird's place. Lucius smirked.