this is the noise that keeps me awake

[malificence]

a → the ministry

There are certain parts of Lucius Malfoy's reputation that are extremely accurate. He does play the part of the spoiled heir to the hilt, showing up to work only a few days a week, often disappearing for long lunches that are as much drunk as they're eaten. He is a bit lazy, a lot spoiled, very bored, and almost entirely lacking in motivation most of the time. Like some other Death Eaters one could mention, Lucius has neglected part of the work-life balance equation; it's just that the part he leaves out tends to be work.

It makes it rather easy for the unwary to forget that Lucius is also very, very sharp, and there's a rather cool glitter in his gray eyes as he listens. Maybe he is actually behind one of the Muggle registration desks, where he's supposed to be. Maybe he's migrated to the Time Deviants to bother help Bellatrix. Or perhaps he's elsewhere, stopped by your desk. In any case, you've caught his attention. His finger taps lightly against his lip.

"Well, go on."

b → the leaky cauldron

It's not up to his usual standards, true, and Lucius is likely resisting the urge to eye the plate of chips on the table like they're a plate of poisonous snakes, but nonetheless - here he is, in a quiet booth, with a pint that's been barely touched for all that he's cultivated the habit of day drinking. Now his gaze is perfectly bland and arch as he lounges back against a seat that defies lounging. Sometimes it flicks away from his own booth and seems to go watchful as he takes in the scene at the pub.

It is the night of the full moon, after all, and as it happens, he'd run into a werewolf only hours before.

c → malfoy manor

It's entirely true that a not inconsiderable amount of his time was spent in and around Lestrange Manor even before time deviants of his own line began to appear, but he's all but officially changed his place of residence. Nonetheless, appearances must be maintained, and for once Lucius can be found in his own library, a glass of brandy at his elbow as he pages with seeming idleness through an old book. When someone inevitably comes into the room (and it's not a house elf he can chase out with either a sharp word or a small, contained explosion), he'll raise his brow. You must want something, get on with it.

"Is there something you required?"

Comments

[malificence]

Lucius arches a brow under the fringe of dark blond hair falling over his forehead. Cheeky, he thinks, but it's with a bit of an amused smile. Games aren't fun if they don't have some twists and turns after all. So he goes along, even though they both know that Peter's really not going to be up for promotion in Transport.

"Assistant to a department head might not be glamorous," he says, "but it's a higher rise than any promotion you'll get in Transport, unless Runcorn takes a shine to you." Which was...doubtful, really.

[rattus_rattus]

Peter has to hide his smile behind the rim of his pint glass. He doesn't care about fancy job titles or a bump up in the social order. It's the pay that has him excited. A raise will make it so much easier to move out on his own and away from his overbearing mum.

"All right," Peter says after a brief moment of silence. "I'm interested. Transport is holding me back, besides. If you've a position, then I'm your man."

[malificence]

Money spoke louder than title for a good ninety percent of the Muggle Registration Commission; they might mostly be purebloods, but that didn't mean rich in this day in age. There were exceptions, of course. The Lestranges, the Blacks, the Greengrasses, the Parkinsons, the Malfoys? All had money. Most of the rest of the Sacred Twenty-Eight were decaying.

Lucius was well aware what inspired most people. But exalted titles that made them puff out their chests meant more when the financial need was filled. "They certainly are," he drawls. "I'll be able to let you know what it is in about a week."