Sorry for the hiatus! School happened, and I've also begun rewriting my novelly thingy (it was 220 pages when I stopped). This one's Lucius. Hope you enjoy!

Bob Eggleton was not having a very good day. His last client had extremely violent tendencies and had had to be restrained by security, and the one before that was angry enough to take out her fury on anything to hand - including the furniture. It took half of the donuts in Bob's lunch to calm her down. Then his secretary, Valerie, told him that Voldemort had dropped off a paper about some of his "fantasies" and that Bob was inclined to read it, as Voldemort had scheduled another appointment the following week. This wouldn't have been a problem if the paper was not one hundred twenty-nine pages long.

Bob glanced up as someone rapped sharply on the door. He hastily laid aside Voldemort's papers (on page five now), stashed his half-eaten donut behind his back, grabbed his notepad and called "Come in."

A blonde man dressed in long robes and furs strode into the room, an odd-looking cane in his hand. His hair was as long as any woman's and exceptionally shiny (Bob made a mental note to ask this man which conditioner he used - his wife was searching for something better), his eyes were icy gray and his face wore a look of purest disdain. Bob ignored it.

"Hello there," he said, hooking a smile onto his face. He consulted his notes. "Ah yes, you must be Lucius Malfoy."

"That I am." Lucius looked down at the sofa, his lip curling, then pulled a length of heavily embroidered fabric from the inside of his coat. He laid this down on the sofa, careful not to touch the actual cushions, before sitting down. Bob made a note.

"So, Lucius," Bob said, "What would you like to discuss with me?"

"What gives you the idea I would want a Muggle to talk to me, let alone talk back to it?" He said it almost lazily - at least this man didn't lack confidence. But he used that word again, and even more viciously than Voldemort had. What did it mean?

Bob decided to ignore the insult. "Tell me about yourself, Lucius."

Lucius rolled his eyes in a way that said too clearly, I should have expected this. "I work at the Ministry of Magic," he said eventually. "I take it you haven't the slightest clue what that is?"

"Would you care to tell me about it, then?" Bob tried to take the sarcasm out of his voice, he really did, but he was only partly successful.

"No."

Bob sighed. "Why so hostile, Lucius?"

"I am not hostile, only superior. You are a Muggle. You are inferior. You should be grovelling at my feet right now, not prying into my life."

"So I am a Muggle. Why does that make me less than you?" And what is a Muggle?

Lucius considered this for a split second. Only a split second, however. "I am a wizard. I have magic; you do not. Therefore, you are less than me."

"But one is born with magic, are they not?"

"Yes, I suppose."

"Well, what if I were born with magic, and you were not?" Lucius looked puzzled. Bob pressed on, "Would I be the superior, then? Would you be the one to grovel at my feet?"

"Of course not!" Lucius snarled. Clearly, this touched a nerve. "No Squib would grovel at the foot of Mudblood! And I am a Malfoy! No Malfoys are born Squibs!"

"And what is a Mudblood?"

"A Muggle born with wizarding powers, of course," Lucius sniffed. Bob's ignorance seemed to only further increase his feeling of superiority. "But Muggle and Mudblood and Squib, there is no difference."

"Then what are you?" Bob asked patiently. Or is Malfoy a different race altogether?

"I am a Pureblood," Lucius said, miffed. "If this is all, Muggle . . ."

"No, this is certainly not all," Bob said. "You came to therapy for a reason, am I right? What do you feel you need to discuss with me, Lucius?"

"I came to therapy -" Lucius cut himself off abruptly. He sat silent for a moment or two, considering his next move, before saying, "I managed all my affairs between now and when I scheduled this appointment. Thank you, but -"

"You scheduled this appointment half an hour ago," Bob interrupted. "And that extra ten minutes accounts for driving time."

"I . . . did?" Lucius looked puzzled. "Of course I did. But I sorted everything out . . . mentally." His disdainful smile was far too mechanic. Bob sighed again.

"You don't have to be afraid to open up, Lucius," he said gently.

"I am not afraid," Lucius snarled, hostile once more. The poor man must be so insecure.

"Oh yes, you are." Bob mentally cursed himself; attacking his patients rarely helped them to open up.

"No I'm not!" Lucius shouted.

"You are."

"Am not!" Then Lucius did something very startling: he dramatically threw his head into his hands. Okay, that wasn't the startling part. The startling part was that he was crying, his entire body shaking with sobs. "Everyone calls me a coward," he screeched, the words barely distinguishable between sobs. "And my wife makes fun of my Barbies . . . and Bellatrix stabbed me . . . and the Dark Lord took my best dress robes and spilled ketchup on them . . . and the werewolf licked my hair . . ."

"I see," Bob tried to say, but Lucius didn't stop. Evidently no one listened to the man; his sob stories went on.

" . . . and she put blood in my smoothie . . . and Draco used all my hair gel . . . and the Dark Lord stole my bunny slippers . . . and Bellatrix took my new sparkly knife and got blood all over it . . ."

And on.

". . . and Nagini touched my sofa, I had to get a new one . . .and Wormtail ate all my sugar cookies . . ."

And on.

". . . and Severus told Nagini who told everyone that he makes me weightloss potions . . ."

Bob's head lolled forward; he had fallen asleep.

". . . and Narcissa messed up my French braid that took hours to make . . . and my makeup . . ."

Bob snored.

" . . . and sometimes I just take a box of brownies and watch Barbie and forget about my life!" Lucius finished, his voice jumping two or three octaves on the last note. Bob jumped, blinked, and hid a yawn.

"Ah, yes, you, er . . . I understand your life is very difficult, Lucius," he said.

"At last someone understands!"

"Do you feel better, now that you've let out your emotions?"

But Lucius was no longer listening. Instead, he was examining his reflection in a handheld silver mirror. "I look horrendous!"

"It's what's on the inside that counts," Bob said absentmindedly.

Based on the reviews, I'm pretty sure Bellatrix is coming next. REVIEWS MAKE ME HAPPY