Lucius Malfoy, wizard, writer, dog owner and ex-Death Eater, was unaware of the interest he had stirred in the minds of the locals.

The Manor had become more and more obvious to Muggles over the past year, a result of both the lessening of the concealment charms on it, and the edict from the Ministry that Wizards were no longer to be completely isolated from the Muggle world. Luckily the villagers had assumed that the gradual appearance of whole rather than ruined buildings were a result of renovations being undertaken by the resident recluse.

This did however have the small disadvantage of bringing Lucius more into contact with the locals than he had thought possible. First Mrs Harris, his cleaning lady (and a squib) had met him one day while he was walking the wolfhounds, and took him to the local cafe for morning tea. He had enjoyed sitting in the sunshine and watching the passers-by alternate between avoiding the huge shaggy dogs or coming up and making a fuss of them. He also realised that this might well be the end of the dogs' careers as Guardians of the House - any observant thief would know by now that for the price of a quarter-pound of bacon, the dogs would sell their souls and be anyone's willing slaves.

While Antonia and Drusus, the wolfhounds, were no longer qualified to keep out intruders, the peacocks were excellent at alerting people to the presence of strangers on the grounds. Their strident calls could be heard from almost anywhere within the house, so when James, Vicar of St Hogglehills Church finally decided to pay a visit to the Manor, Lucius had plenty of warning and could ensure that Gardie, the new House-Elf, did not answer the door.

The vicar was a quiet man who had taken a country parish to try and rest his nerves after a nasty stoush with a bishop who did not believe in charity and love. He was very pleased to see that the resident of the old house on the hill looked quite normal, if blessed with a wonderful quantity of hair, and wondered why he had never made the effort to walk up the long drive beforehand. The reception he received, though, made his head ache. That someone seemingly British born could have no concept of the Church of England was very odd. James hoped for an invitation into the old stone building, but was surprised to find himself walking out of the gates at the bottom of the drive instead not five minutes later, with no real memory of what had transpired in the meeting. Meanwhile, a rather confused House Elf was being told in no uncertain terms that she was to stay completely away from the local Muggles.

Shortly afterwards Lucius settled himself in the worn armchair that he refused to have recovered, and opened the Daily Prophet to check that his most recent column had been printed unaltered. His fresh tea steamed at his elbow, and a plate of home-made shortbread attested to the skills of his new domestic help. Luckily the awkward incident at the Art Show the previous year had had no long-term effect. Relationships with Narcissa were now at the "cordial friends" stage with a possibility of further improvement, and Draco had kept his position as a Law Clerk and was considering a future career applying these skills in one of the more legalistic branches of the Ministry of Magic at some time in the future. And his positive reports of the artwork had been well received by the Prophet, while the invasion of the party by a pair of staaaaaarving wolfhounds had somehow not been reported to the paper.

Lucius had just reached the "Wizards and Witches Home and Life" section when the doorbell rang once more and the wolfhounds propelled themselves off the hearth rug and along the corridor, baying like the hunting creatures they were. Lucius pulled himself out of his chair and headed for the door, yelling at the dogs as he went. Luckily their enthusiasm lasted only as long as they realised he might have left his shortbread unattended, and they bounded back down the hallway as Lucius opened the door.

"Yes?"

To his surprise, the figure standing on the path was not a Wizard, although she bore more than a passing resemblance to Dolores Umbridge. The ruched hat balanced on the mound of blue-rinsed curls looked more like an old-fashioned bathing cap, and had the effect of making the round face even more rounded. Worse still, the frumpy coat made of expensive yet badly-cared-for fabric gave the woman an air of eccentricity more commonly seen in Diagon Alley. Most surprising, though, was the silence of the peacocks. Lucius looked over the lady's shoulder, but couldn't see them anywhere.

"Good afternoon. I am Mrs Felicia Fullaghar, of Herbert Hall."

She held her hand out to him, but he had no intention of touching her. Her skin looked greasy and grubby, and she probably had some sort of Muggle dermatitis. Then she stared at him, obviously expecting something. Finally, Lucius broke.

"Are you looking for something?"

"Am I addressing the owner of the Manor House?"

"You are. Lucius Malfoy. Can I help you, madam?"

"Yes you can. For some time..." As she launched into her obviously-prepared speech, Lucius noticed a commotion coming from the side of the house, a high-pitched yelping and the screaming of large birds. Peacocks, to be exact.

"For some time the residents of Wilton have wished to reintroduce the Village Fête which used to be held with great success in the grounds of the church." Her voice started increasing in both pitch and volume, attempting to drown out the confusion that was approaching. "But since the collapse of the sewer lines in the middle of the church field, the place has become unsanitary... WILLIAM WILL YOU SHUT UP AND COME HERE YOU NAUGHTY BOY!"

Although it bruised Lucius's eardrums and shook the outside of the house, her scream had one very positive note. The yelping and the bird noises ceased, and around the corner trotted a rather smug looking small white fluffy mophead, obviously a recent escapee from a handle.

Mrs Fullaghar reached down and picked up the creature, patting its head and calling it sweet names as she pulled a handful of broken white feathers from its mouth. "Oh William, you silly silly doggie. You don't need to eat those birdies. Mummy will buy you a lovely big bone and a tin of Precious Paws on the way home. Now stay." She put the dog down and it immediately ran off back around the corner. Lucius braced for the expected resumption of the conflict, but this time all stayed quiet as Mrs Fullaghar launched back into her spiel.

"As I was saying before your wretched birds interrupted me, the field beside the church has become unsanitary, and we're looking for somewhere else to hold the fête."

"And what, pray tell, does this have to do with me, madam?"

Lucius Malfoy had not held his many sinecures without perfecting the supercilious look and the cold sneer, but this time he was up against someone far more used to cold and brutal social climbing. She moved closer and closer to him, until finally he was forced to step backwards to avoid getting her hat caught in his nose. The slightly unwashed scent about her had him turn slightly, and she took full advantage of this to push past him and walk into the hall, the first Muggle to walk there without invitation or abduction.