A/N: Sadly, despite having been a Harry Potter fan for many years, I only today realized how truly ridiculous the name "Death Eaters" is. After thinking this, I of course resolved to write an entirely humorous, somewhat pointless fanfiction making fun of the name. Who could resist? Anyway, none of the world of Harry Potter is mine and none of these characters is technically mine. Also, I mean no offense. I'm just having some fun to relieve the stress of a very long, very hard school week. Enjoy!
I'm late again, Hannah thought. Why am I always late? She pelted down the sidewalk, weaving around other commuters travelling in a like manner. Dodge and weave was the rule when one was late. She glanced at her watch again and sighed. She would have to take the shortcut again. And she was so fond of that shortcut—who wouldn't love a dark, dirty, odiferous alley that made one shudder from a strange feeling of oppressive evil (and don't ask her what gave her that feeling because she really had no idea). Still, it shaved about five minutes off her morning walk and she needed that time this morning. Sighing again, she made the turn into the alley—only to run full tilt into a man in a long black dress? Robe? Whatever it was, they definitely didn't sell it at Brooks Brothers.
"Excuse me," she said.
"Watch where you're going, Muggle," he hissed after her.
She had to stop. Late or not, he was just being rude. "Excuse me?" she asked, annoyed.
"What?" he asked. He seemed insulted that she would dare to talk to him.
"Excuse me," she repeated, "It is the traditional response when one runs into someone. I said it. You didn't. Therefore, you are being rude. And, as if that weren't enough, you proceeded to refer to me as a Muggle, whatever that is." In fact, she did know what that was, but she wasn't about to tell him that her college roommate and best friend was a witch.
Now he was really mad. In fact, he was so mad, he pulled a stick of wood out of his cane and pointed it at her. "Do you have any idea what I am? I am your worst nightmare."
"You are?" she asked. She could never resist a bit of sarcasm in the face of danger. "I knew it! You are the giant pumpkin with a sword that led the army of orcs that chased me to the Dunkin Donuts and tried to eat me and my donut!"
"What?" he asked, seemingly dazed, before snapping back to his threatening mode. "NO! I am the Death Eater who is going to wipe your filthy Muggle blood off this Earth for good!"
She couldn't help it. She snorted. That statement was far too ridiculous.
"What?" he asked. It seemed to be his favorite phrase.
"You're a what?" she asked, barely containing her laughter.
"A Death Eater," he replied, as he approached menacingly—or tried to approach menacingly.
"A Death Eater?" she asked, incredulous, "Who came up with that name?"
He didn't answer, merely sputtered.
"I mean, honestly, is that supposed to inspire fear? What do you do, eat death? Because, really, that just implies that you lose a lot." She was full out laughing now.
"Laughing at the Dark Lord is punishable by death!" he exclaimed.
"Which you will then proceed to eat?" she asked.
He sputtered again.
"Seriously, your Dark Lord needs to hire a better publicist, if that name was all he could come up with. It's not even melodramatically cheesy, like The Wraiths of Doom or something equally crazy. It doesn't even make sense! Death Eaters?" Laughing hysterically, she turned and walked away, hurrying on to open her coffee shop a little late for another day of business.
Lucius Malfoy remained where he was for several minutes, completely stunned. His mouth opened and closed several times as though he were about to reply to the long gone woman, before it closed and set into a very thin line. With a swirl of robes, he turned and stalked away, determined that no one would ever find out about this particular incident.
He kept it very secret. So, naturally, within a few days, everybody knew.
Even wizards and witches who had once trembled and shook at the phrase Death Eaters couldn't stop laughing.
A/N NoteLuciusMalfoy is probably over six foot. The friend who I based the character of Hannah on is 4' 11''. For those of you using the metric system, she is what one would refer to as tiny and he is very tall. I'm sure you could figure that out, but it never hurts to clarify. Anyway, since this was primarily a conversational piece, I did not stick that in. However, I think it adds something, don't you? Because I have this mental image of him quaking in fear.