(no subject)
A/N: Yeah I know the timeline's weird. Just pretend!
Lucius Malfoy tapped his fingers impatiently on the table as he waited for his food to appear.
Money was becoming a problem for him.
He funded Voldemort. He paid Draco's school dues. He paid the Board of Governors so he had an influence in the school - as ordered by Voldemort, to throw wrenches in Dumbledore's plans as much as possible. He paid the Ministry to keep himself out of jail. And with the US economy going to hell, he spent more money funding those Death Eater ventures and some of his under-the-table financial dealings.
Oh, you wouldn't know, just looking at him. He carefully managed his finances so that he was still able to look rich, no matter what he had to cut corners on behind doors. His eveningwear and robes were the best money could buy - his pajamas were cotton; he always had a fully catered and waitered meal for the Dark Revels that were held at his manor - because he'd sold all but one of his house elves off; he constantly sent Draco lavish gifts to school, and bought envy-envoking jewelry and dresses for Narcissa - due to 'inheritng' certain items of value through raids and attacks.
Finally, a small steaming bowl appeared. He sneered at it.
"ELF!"
The last of his house-elf staff - a small, timid looking thing, looked up at him with fearful eyes.
"What is this drivvel?" He scooped some of the food up with his spoon and let it plop back into the bowl, eyeing it with disgust all the while.
"Ramen, sir," the elf said meekly.
"Ramen?" Lucius looked puzzled. "What in the bloody hell is that?"
"It is a noodle soup, sir. A less extravahgantt foodstuff that is acshully quite common with the University shtudents."
Lucius glared at the small creature.
"M-Most of the food budget was used for the Old Ogden's for your meeting with the Dark Lord, sir," the elf stammered.
Lucius nodded and dismissed the elf. He took a wary spoonful of the Ramen, but spat it out almost immediately.
Lucius plopped his head onto the table with an undignified thud. Perhaps he could get a steed and begin foxhunting for 'sport', like they did in the olden days..
Lucius Malfoy tapped his fingers impatiently on the table as he waited for his food to appear.
Money was becoming a problem for him.
He funded Voldemort. He paid Draco's school dues. He paid the Board of Governors so he had an influence in the school - as ordered by Voldemort, to throw wrenches in Dumbledore's plans as much as possible. He paid the Ministry to keep himself out of jail. And with the US economy going to hell, he spent more money funding those Death Eater ventures and some of his under-the-table financial dealings.
Oh, you wouldn't know, just looking at him. He carefully managed his finances so that he was still able to look rich, no matter what he had to cut corners on behind doors. His eveningwear and robes were the best money could buy - his pajamas were cotton; he always had a fully catered and waitered meal for the Dark Revels that were held at his manor - because he'd sold all but one of his house elves off; he constantly sent Draco lavish gifts to school, and bought envy-envoking jewelry and dresses for Narcissa - due to 'inheritng' certain items of value through raids and attacks.
Finally, a small steaming bowl appeared. He sneered at it.
"ELF!"
The last of his house-elf staff - a small, timid looking thing, looked up at him with fearful eyes.
"What is this drivvel?" He scooped some of the food up with his spoon and let it plop back into the bowl, eyeing it with disgust all the while.
"Ramen, sir," the elf said meekly.
"Ramen?" Lucius looked puzzled. "What in the bloody hell is that?"
"It is a noodle soup, sir. A less extravahgantt foodstuff that is acshully quite common with the University shtudents."
Lucius glared at the small creature.
"M-Most of the food budget was used for the Old Ogden's for your meeting with the Dark Lord, sir," the elf stammered.
Lucius nodded and dismissed the elf. He took a wary spoonful of the Ramen, but spat it out almost immediately.
Lucius plopped his head onto the table with an undignified thud. Perhaps he could get a steed and begin foxhunting for 'sport', like they did in the olden days..