If I was a girl who thought rationally, I would leave Harry Potter fics alone. No one hardly ever reviews them (except my lovely Emily! You should all read her fics, by-the-bye. Her penname's Scoutcraft Piratess), so obviously they are not enjoyable. However, as there is no one else to share this with, I had little choice. Perhaps you will find something in this bitty little five-hundred-word story that will amuse you. If not, no hard feelings, but it'd be nice if you'd drop me a line about it and critique it, as I have to work on accepting criticism.

Disclaimer: Both Parry Hotter and the Rord of the Lings are belong to other people.

WARNING: This li'l fic includes: death/murder, hinting at marital unfaithfullness, those Malfoy folks, cowardice, and (perhaps) insanity.

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Good evening? I know where you have been the past three days, Lucius, do not patronise me. I know why Crabbe and Goyle have not returned with you. I am honoured, truly honoured, that you chose to be alone when you told me. But can you not tell? Sir, I all ready know.

Speechless, Mr. Malfoy? Yes, I know that you stood by and watched, stood by and watched without a single protest. I will be honest with you; I had mistakenly attributed you with a little more heart than that. I had really thought that you would have at least had the decency to react when the closest thing you have ever had to a friend was facing the merciless wand of the Dark Lord.

You face betrays you, coward! You would sacrifice anything, everything, if it meant you were still in his favour. Do not waste my time with lies, Lucius! I know you would sacrifice me as well. Do you know what you would become after he had demanded everything from you? A wretch not worthy of pity, a sniveling wretch even more pathetic than Wormtail. No one respects a coward, Lucius, not even when his cowardice is service to them. In your effort to please him, you would become nothing more than an annoyance, nothing more than a desperate, fluttering, buzzing flea. But would you not be pleased to find yourself in such a position, my dear? You would have finally arrived at the place where there was nothing else in your life save him.

It could not have been past even your negligent attention to see that the only love I have ever harboured for a Malfoy no longer has a living recipient. Did you think to persuade me to stay, sir? I hope that I have prevented your misusing a fair portion your breath. Let us not pretend that there is any feeling close to love between us. It will not hurt my heart to see you with another mistress on your arm, Lucius; it cannot hurt me to see something I have spied so often.

Do not fear my vengeance, my dear. The truth is that I no longer have the capacity for such violently passionate actions. My soul died when my son and the only person who treated him as a father did.

Save your breath and your excuses. You had your chance. If you had but loved him a little, I would have been able to forgive your numerous offenses. I have no need for your love; I never did. But my son did. You were his downfall. What a fool I was for not leaving you the day that he was born.

I did not leave you soon enough to save him, but perhaps I am not too late to save what is left of me. I will not tell you where I am going, but I will tell you this: when I read of your death, I will laugh.

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I'm not sure if all y'all are in agreement, but I find it very plausible that Snape was a kind-of-friend to Lucius. And I'm not really sure if fleas buzz, but it sounded nastier than fly and Cissy prolie wouldn't care at this point anyways.

Soliloquy, according to the dictionary:

an utterance or discourse by a person who is talking to himself or herself or is disregardful of or oblivious to any hearers present.

Take you pick, ladies and gents.

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