Lucious fucking Malfoy. I can't believe that that prick is walking around a free man. He was caught at the department of mysteries fiasco two years ago and yet, there he is. Spouting some nonsensical bullshit to appease the dumb asses of the wizarding world. Whatever.

I can't help but wonder at a time like this...Do they know on some instinctual level? Do they know what's coming? Can they feel the cross hairs lining up on their chest? Can they sense as my finger embraces the trigger, squeezing ever so gently?

Not that I'd really know, but it seems to me that a position like this is the closest you could get to whatever higher power you worship while still being alive. The power that I hold...This man's life is completely in my hands. I own him. I decide whether he lives or dies. The thrill of the knowledge that my target is not aware of the fact that he no longer controls his fate.



It all depends on a single speck of time. If all depends on whether or not I decide to squeeze...


Lucious Malfoy released his most charming smile as he looked out over the crowd gathered before him. These people were sheep. Sheep ripe for the slaughter. They believed anything the minister of magic, Cornelius Fudge, told them. Even if what he told them was that Malfoy was innocent of being a death eater.

"This threat will be neutralized. The ministry will keep the people of Britain safe! With your support, You-know-who and his filth will fall!"

The Malfoy patriarch had to suppress a wince at his words. While it was true that the dark lord had ordered him to say whatever was needed to placate the masses, he knew that punishment was imminent when he returned to his master's side. The thought of Voldemort's cruciartus sent a shiver up his spine. Not to mention the itch on his forehead, right between his eyes. Reaching up to casually rub the spot, he began his spiel again.

"We will not back down to these despots. We will keep our heads high-"

No one heard the quiet 'and I'm incredibly grateful' before the silvery-blond head exploded. It took a grand total of three seconds before pandemonium erupted. People began screaming and running in every direction, uncaring about those stuck under foot. Aurors tried desperately to maintain control, but soon realized that that was hopeless venture before attempting to minimize casualties.

The wizards never saw, and the muggles didn't pay any mind, as a tall man in an ankle-length leather business coat and fedora casually strolled from a dilapidated three-story building across the street from the dingy little pub known to magical beings as the Leaky Cauldron.