"The bus??" Lucius Malfoy exclaimed, as Snape told him about his next mission. He had to go undercover into Muggle London and retrieve a certain Squib, who apparently had important knowledge of something top secret. "Can't they get someone for the job who knows what a bus even is?" Snape shook his head.
"Everyone is pureblood, except the Dark Lord himself." He said. "But there is a short explanation of what a bus is and how it works included." He handed Lucius a note, turned, and strode away. "Good luck!" he said as he swirled through the door.
"Thanks a bloody bunch." Lucius muttered under his breath as he glared after Snape. He folded the note open. There was a picture of a sort of box on wheels on it, and to the topright corner of the sheet a ticket was attached. "'Bus: motorised vehicle for public use. Admission is a ticket, attached to the top right corner. Take the 126 to Whitechapel, get off at the 7th stop.' Well, at least it's comprehensible." Lucius said to himself. He tore the ticket from the note, folded the sheet of paper up again, and put it away in a pocket of his robes.
He then walked to the middle of the room, and started to wait. He was still standing there when Narcissa came home four hours later. "Why are you standing in the middle of the room?" she asked him.
"Stop interrupting, this is a very important mission." Lucius said, irritated. Narcissa snorted, and walked away again.
The day turned into night, and the night turned into morning. Lucius Malfoy was still standing in the middle of the room. "Where is that bloody bus??" he grumbled to himself.
