#maf;starter

Litigation.

Narcissa felt like yelling ‘hooray’ when she finally found the department. Of course she had been to the firm before but all meetings were held in the boardroom, she never had a need to venture farther than that. Strangely she felt like a little girl in Disney World. The building was every lawyer’s dream with it’s pristine appearance and the inner-workings like a machine. Narcissa will adapt easily here.

After a few wrong turns and a lot of directions, she finally landed up at Lucius Malfoy’s office. His secretary, not dissimilar from Narcissa in appearance looked up at her, “Can I help.”

“I am here to see Mr. Malfoy.”

“Which one?”

Narcissa was confused for a moment before remembering Abraxas Malfoy was a shareholder as well, “Lucius.”

“When is your appointment?”

“Um... I don’t have one.”

The look on the woman’s face made Narcissa want to cringe back. “Mr. Malfoy is a very busy man. Nobody is allowed without appointment, especially not every second bimbo who take a liking to him.” The disapproval on her face was clear.

Narcissa blanched at the words, indignation clear in her reply, “He told me to pop in when I am here... I am here, therefore I am popping in. He is expecting me.” 

The secretary spoke loudly, as if Narcissa was an invalid, telling her of professionality and what not. All the time she could feel eyes being directed towards her and decided that maybe it would be best just to leave a not for Lucius and only see him on Friday.

@tainted-perfection​

Dear Miss Black

As you are aware my firm is currently representing Mr Fawcett who has been charged with insider trading. 

We have reason to believe that there were some documents that were not disclosed to you by the second defendant. I suggest that we arrange a time to meet so that I might deliver them to you. Perhaps over dinner?

Regards

Lucius Malfoy

He peers for a moment at the teenager who is staring at him- there’s a stupefied look on her face as she watches him shovel ice-cream onto his fries. He winks. The kid flushes and looks away. Rabastan dunks more fries into his ice-cream.

“Seat’s not taken,” he says preemptively when someone stops in front of him, not even looking at them in favour of trying to catch a trail of melted ice-cream.

Andie didn’t know why she was so nervous, why she was acting like this was a first date and not a lunch date with her own sister. It’s not like Cissa was Bella, not like it’s been years since they’ve spoken. Sure, it was the first time they’d be hanging out in years, but they’ve...talked. Seen each other.

She wondered if the nice but casual dress was too much.

“Fuck!” Sirius threw down his controller (for the fifth time that day) instantly reaching for the smoky bong sitting on his coffee table. “I don’t get why I lose every - single - time.” He shook his head, as though he was finally giving up, and leaned back into the sofa. Lighter in one hand, he deftly took a quick, small hit and placed it back on the table in front of Peter for him to take if he needed. “I’m - ” He coughed, “ - dying to hear about what your week’s been like, husband.” Sirius teased, “Hope you stole me a diamond.”

He’d been inside the “club” for about an hour now, unenthusiastically throwing a dollar bill onto the stage every so often just to avoid suspicion. Amos wasn’t here to watch anyone strip, nor was he interested in paying anyone for their company. Tonight, he was there for information, anything that he could bring back to the force and convince them to put him on a proper case regarding the mafia for once. Gretchen Bletchley - he didn’t know much about her, other than the fact that he read in the files that she’d been the one to discover Eliza. Dead. Only really looking up when he finally saw the one he’d been waiting for out of the corners of his eyes, Amos pushed himself off of his seat and walked towards Gretchen, wallet in his hand.

“How much for a private dance?”