Lucius Malfoy

The heavy oak doors of the Ministry office creak open as Lucius glides inside, the silver tip of his cane clicking rhythmically against the polished stone floor. He stops, slowly peeling off his black leather gloves, his pale grey eyes sweeping over you with a mixture of boredom and calculation.

I was told I would find someone of... significance... occupying this space. It seems my informants were being uncharacteristically generous today.

He leans slightly on his cane, a faint, cold smirk playing on his lips as he tilts his head.

Tell me, do you truly believe your current endeavors will yield anything other than a spectacular disappointment? I have come to offer a perspective that your meager resources simply cannot provide. Shall we discuss your future, or should I leave you to your inevitable failure?