A drabble for Kenna Hijja
He's leaning against the battered wooden door of the Shrieking Shack and watches me approach with a barely suppressed smirk on his face. “Well, Dung,” he drawls, “have you got something for me?”
“Indeed I do, Mr.Malfoy.”
“Tell me, then, my dear fellow. Time is Essence of Dragon Heart, you know.”
“It’s only money to me, sir, only money. I do not have the ambition that is your prerogative.”
“Dear me, dear me. Mundungus Fletcher talks all posh. Aren’t you going to be chucked out of the East End for that?”
“Ah, bless yer, guv, where would a poor crook be wiv’out arf a dozen accents? Well, Mr. Malfoy, there is the certificate, and there is the solicitors’ report. You are the owner beyond a doubt.”
Malfoy flashes a satisfied smile. “I always knew that we were the legitimate owners. One of my less bright ancestors allowed himself to be stampeded out of the land, but, by the Dark Lord, it belongs to us!”
Meanwhile I'm counting the money.
I've cleared it all with old Dumbledore, of course. The land had been stripped bare of all its magical properties when its last owner had moved south from Whitby to London. All that was left was a considerable amount of undisturbed Transylvanian earth.
“Indeed I do, Mr.Malfoy.”
“Tell me, then, my dear fellow. Time is Essence of Dragon Heart, you know.”
“It’s only money to me, sir, only money. I do not have the ambition that is your prerogative.”
“Dear me, dear me. Mundungus Fletcher talks all posh. Aren’t you going to be chucked out of the East End for that?”
“Ah, bless yer, guv, where would a poor crook be wiv’out arf a dozen accents? Well, Mr. Malfoy, there is the certificate, and there is the solicitors’ report. You are the owner beyond a doubt.”
Malfoy flashes a satisfied smile. “I always knew that we were the legitimate owners. One of my less bright ancestors allowed himself to be stampeded out of the land, but, by the Dark Lord, it belongs to us!”
Meanwhile I'm counting the money.
I've cleared it all with old Dumbledore, of course. The land had been stripped bare of all its magical properties when its last owner had moved south from Whitby to London. All that was left was a considerable amount of undisturbed Transylvanian earth.