#3

Lucius sat in his study and contemplated his run-in with a ghetto house-elf. He was absolutely scared. Never again would he take his house-elf lightly, not if his house-elf was in the mob or in a gang. Dear God, he'd have to keep on her nice side forever now. He couldn't have her homies hanging around the house. They could create a stench or something of that nature. A stench looks bad on a death eater's résumé. Seriously. This was house-elf he couldn't mess with. Even though he would anyway because everything he just thought as immediately obliterated by the fact that he should make her pay. Oh yes, he was so a Slytherin.

"ZENNY! Get in here right now!" He bellowed. He'd have his ass served to him on a silver platter (and what a nice ass that would be) but he didn't care. He was too arrogant to care. He was a Slytherin. The imaginary Slytherin banner and imaginary Slytherin anthem boomed from behind him. Lucius Malfoy was like the Slytherin President. Lucius Malfoy absolutely screamed Slytherin. He was so proud of his idiocy—whoops, I meant—Slytherin cunning.

Zenny zoomed into the study and plunked herself down in front of him. Her hand was raised in salute. "Sir, yes, sir! Reporting for duty, sir!"

"Wow, that's an improvement. I'd like you to call me sir from now on," he'd had no idea she was mocking him. He needed to get out more.

"Yes sir!" Zenny was loving the mocking. This idiot needed to get out more. Seeing the movies that Dumbledore brought her was paying off. She might have to get a Blockbuster Rewards card. She pondered where the nearest movie rental place was; she was seriously considering renting a musical and making Senior Fancy Pants watch the damned thing. The use of duct tape came to mind. Bondage. Fun.

"Humor me!" Lucius, being the arrogant bastard that he was, was role-playing himself as a king talking to his measly little servant.

"Okie-dokie, Senior Fancy Pants!"

"What?"

"Nothing sir!"

"Okay, then…BEGIN!"

"Ooookay! There was a blonde, a brunette and a red-head on a deserted island that was one mile from land," Zenny began. Blonde jokes for the psychologically impaired/blonde at heart (nothing against blondes, only the super idiot, preppy ones) were bound to stump Ken's model who sat at his desk grinning like a 3 year old with a gas mask. Idiot.

"The brunette makes it ¼ of the way to land and drowns."

Lucius giggled. He loved violence.

"The red-head makes it 1/3 of the way there and drowns."

Lucius knew where this was going—the blonde would get to land and laugh maniacally because of her comrades' deaths—this blonde was good in his book. Lucius wondered if he could meet this blonde and recruit her as a death eater. Arrogant so of a motherless goat.

"The blonde makes it ½ the way there, gets tired and goes back to the island."

Lucius laughed his head off, he'd had know idea what that meant (Slytherin cunning didn't come with brains) but laughed anyway assuming that the proper thing would be to laugh. He was quite trained in the art of making like you know what someone is talking about, but really don't. He was used to things going over his head, though he didn't think himself stupid, just smart for knowing what to do when you didn't know what to do. That sounded super smart so he just went with it.

Zenny got up and left. She was somewhat disgusted by the idiot's…idiocy (which, I suppose, comes with being an idiot). However she kept the smirk off her face for enough time to get out of the room when he finally realized what she just said. He never would.

"Ha…they all died except for the blonde…oh, that's good…wait a second…1/2 +1/2 is," Lucius counted on his fingers but couldn't do it so took out a piece of his snakey stationary and did the math, "…one, and from the deserted island to land was one mile, so…she could've survived…meaning…"

"How's that funny?"

No, realization never dawned on Lucius.

…in fact, nothing ever would dawn on Lucius.

There was nothing, really, to dawn on…