"Your wand please, Mr. Malfoy," said a worried looking junior clerk with dark hair and a nervous tic, who was standing at the entrance to the offices of the Department of Muggle Relations, which was located in the bowels of the Ministry of Magic.

Lucius sneered but slowly handed over his fourteen-inch ash dragon heartstring center wand to the obnoxious little puppy.

The young clerk swallowed uneasily as he took the wand and stuck out his other hand.

"I'm Jeffrey Callister, junior under clerk to Malfius Donnat, the head of Muggle Relations, here at the Ministry," he said.

Lucius sniffed and looked past the proffered hand pointedly ignoring it.

Jeffrey flushed and quickly took his hand back.

"Well," the young clerk said, with his voice breaking a bit. "I'm to take you to the orientation which you'll share with the other class-c admins. Please follow me."

With that the young man entered the noisy department leaving Lucius to follow in a more leisurely fashion.

Lucius snapped his robes around himself, keeping his eyes straight ahead as he was inundated by the sound, of clacking and ringing, as well as the flickering of lights, from what looked like a maze of little caves from which disembodied voices arose.

The clerk slowed down and turned towards his 'assignment'.

"We'll train you today and then find you an appropriate placement in one of our divisions."

Lucius didn't allow any hint of emotion to shatter his cool exterior but inside he was seething. A Malfoy working in an office designed to service muggle needs was a concept not to be borne. Of course, without his willingness to engage in what the Ministry had termed "community service" he'd still be cooling his heels with the Dementors in Azkaban. He shuddered inwardly at the image that remained burned into his psyche of the soulless creatures hovering over and around him tearing away pieces of his soul. Anything was better than that—even this.

The junior clerk led Lucius through a door and into a large classroom where five young witches were already seated and awaiting their instructor.

"Ah, just in time I see. Mr. Malfoy you can take a seat anywhere," said the officious little underclerk.

Lucius deliberately chose the seat farthest away from the other 'admin' trainees but other than some curious looks no one said anything to him.

"Well, I'll be on my way. Good luck," he said slapping Lucius on his shoulder in a friendly gesture.

The clerk reeled back from the malevolent look that Lucius shot him and quickly backed away and out the door shutting it behind him.

Another door opened at the other end of the classroom and a chubby middle-aged witch entered.

"Good morning class," she chirruped beaming at her six students.

Lucius winced. He hated cheerful 'morning' types. It was dreadfully uncivilized to be fully functional and alert much before midday.

"My name is Audrey Moorsten and I'll be your instructor today. We at the MRD are attempting to bridge the gap between the wizarding world and that of the muggles," she said beaming.

Lucius frowned ferociously.

Ms. Moorsten's double chins wobbled as she enthusiastically waved her dimpled hands "And, of course, for those of you who go on to do field work, this experience will prove invaluable," she continued.

Lucius could hardly believe the claptrap he was hearing. Mix with muggles? It would be the equivalent of consorting with garden gnomes—the prospect was altogether revolting.

Ignoring the snort of disbelief issuing from the back of class, the instructor brought forward from underneath her desk a strange looking device.

"This, in case you weren't already aware is a muggle tele-phone. I'm going to teach you how to use it this morning," and with a wave of her wand a replica appeared on each student's desk.

"Right, she said cheerfully "let's get started shall we?"

Lucius smirked. Really did these idiots think he was thick? He could manage anything a muggle could.

An hour later Lucius had broken out into a cold sweat. This monstrosity was obviously a dark artifact. It wouldn't work for him at all and seemed to mock him with its cheerful ringing and blinking lights.

His only consolation was that at least three of the other students in the class were having similar problems.

"Alright Mr. Malfoy let's try again shall we?" came the teachers cheerful twitter. Lucius had a strong urge to cast an unforgivable at her.

"First we push the button and answer the call..."

"I understand that part," Lucius gritted out.

'Those bouncy brown curls look absurd on a witch of her age' Lucius thought spitefully.

"Yes, but you've lost two calls putting them on 'hold' and three in doing the 'call transfer'. That just won't do," she said in a mildly scolding tone.

"This thing is quite obviously defective," he snarled jabbing his finger at the offending item.

"It's in perfect working order, Mr. Malfoy," the short chubby witch huffed.

Lucius picked up the tele-phone and flung it against the wall.

"MR. MALFOY!"

After a severe reprimand and a reminder that he could always return to Azkaban in lieu of his community service---Lucius found himself in a monumental sulk at the back of the classroom.

Surreptitiously he looked around at his fellow students noting that many of them looked as ill at ease as himself, which was...interesting. He perked up a bit.

"Since you've all done so well with the tele-phone," she began.

'An out and out lie' thought Lucius.

"I thought it was time to introduce you to something truly extraordinary," she continued flicking her wand. With a loud pop what appeared to be a large box appeared in the classroom.

A petite witch with short reddish hair blinked and raised her hand.

"Yes, Miss Stilt?" the teacher asked.

"What is that Ms. Moorsten? I've never seen anything like it."

"Ah, you're in for a real treat. This is a muggle copy machine and you're all going to have a chance to use it," she said beaming and clapping her hands in excitement.

Lucius, a little more cautious now, was dying to ask what it was supposed to do but would willingly face a dozen Dementors rather than admit his ignorance in the matter.

Another young witch with short black hair cautiously poked her hand up.

"Yes, Ms. Peare?"

"Yes, but what does it do?" she asked mildly.

Ms. Moorsten looked stumped for a second trying to come up with a comprehensible answer.

"Why, it's sort of a polyjuice machine," she said at last. The entire class looked blankly back at her.

"You put some parchment in it and it produces exact copies of what you've written out with your quills," she said.

"Now who would like to try it first?" she said in a trilling voice. Her eyes scanned the classroom and noted that Lucius Malfoy had sunk deeper into his chair.

"Mr. Malfoy? If you would please?" she said.

'The Cruciatus Curse is too good for this bitch' he thought gritting his teeth.

"It's only a parchment jam Mr. Malfoy," said the teacher worriedly.

Lucius was kneeling down in front of the polyjuice machine with its doors open, his hands already covered in a sooty black powder cursing under his breath.

"Can't you just use your wand to clear it up, Ms. Moorsten?" said a tall thin girl.

Lucius looked up hopefully. At last, someone with a small spark of what passed for intellect in this group.

"But that would defeat the very purpose of this class, Ms. Trevor," said the middle-aged witch in a shocked tone.

'Idiotic woman' thought Lucius. 'Obviously there must be some house elf blood back somewhere in her family tree'. It was the only explanation.

By this point several of the witches had joined him on the floor trying to see where the problem was.

"I'll just go and get Mr. Wiggins from the repairs department. He's very good with this sort of thing," said Ms. Moorsten, waving her beringed hands about nervously.

Lucius let loose a string of dark curses directed towards the machine. Several of the witches tittered nervously.

"Well, yes I'll just go along now," said the teacher, scurrying out the door.

Left alone with the rest of the students Lucius turned to his fellow trainees.

"Right, did anyone sneak their wand in here?" he said sure someone would have been tempted to do so contrary to the instructions otherwise.

The witches looked uneasily around at each other.

"Merlin!" he ground out. "Do you really want to work with this hexed object?"

The tall thin girl with lank brown hair shifted a bit uncomfortably but pulled out her wand from where it had hidden among her robes.

"Rose, you could get in trouble bringing that in here! You were supposed to leave it at the door with the receptionist," said the smallest witch.

Pleased, Lucius turned towards the tall witch crouched near him.

"How would you like to learn a dark curse?" he said leaning towards her with a gleam in his eye.

The surrounding witches gasped with combined horror and delight.

Twenty minutes later, Ms. Moorsten had been taken for a lie down in the staff lounge and to have a nerve potion administered. She would not be back.

Mr. Wiggins and several other wizards were unsuccessfully trying to stop the polyjuice machine from spitting out parchment along with green, yellow and blue sparks.

The witches clustered around Lucius, warily watching as the machine was finally magicked away to the MRD repair shop. They had all pleaded innocent to any knowledge of the events leading up to its massive malfunction.

Lucius smirked. He had fermented rebellion in less than a day. He wasn't a Malfoy for nothing.

Mr. Wiggins hesitantly approached the students.

"It's probably best for you all to go to lunch now while we find a substitute for your afternoon session," he said wiping a little sheen of perspiration away from his forehead.

The young witches looked a little uncertain and Lucius assumed the leadership role.

"And where are the dining facilities?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Oh, the cafeteria is the next floor down. Ask anyone and they'll show you the way," he said nervously, eyeing Lucius' fists, which were currently clenching and unclenching.

"We'll call you when we're ready for you," Wiggins said.

'You'll never be ready for me in this lifetime' Lucius thought contemptuously.

"This way ladies," Lucius said herding his newest protégés out the door.

"Outrageous," pronounced Lucius.

The cafeteria was overflowing with Ministry workers and there seemed little to no space available to seat the little group. The witches followed him like a small flock of nervous birds.

Lucius strode over to the nearest table where a group of younger wizards were eating their lunch and chattering away nosily.

Lucius kicked the wooden leg of the table with his boot causing drinks to spill and rolls to bounce.

"Oi!" said a young dark-haired wizard with a long nose looking up.

Lucius, who understood the lines of pureblood wizards better than most, recognized the man's family line, Slytherin.

"Mitchell, isn't it?" he asked mildly enough.

"Yes," said the young man sliding a little further down in his seat as if trying to melt into it.

"Lucius Malfoy at your service," he said rather carelessly. The boy's right eye twitched.

"What's he doing here?" he heard muttered from the far corner of the table.

"I'm sure you'd all be willing to move and give these ladies your table," he said straightening his now sooty cravat.

Mitchell, no fool, chose to grab his tray and rabbit away. No Slytherin would risk a power struggle with a Malfoy over so little.

Lucius, who had stood toe-to-toe with Voldemort in his time, knew a power position when he held it, and used it to his advantage. He utilized his not inconsiderable physical presence to loom and glare at the remaining Ministry workers until, at last, one after another broke ranks, grabbing their trays and scuttling off to parts unknown.

When the last of the Ministry clerks had disappeared Lucius turned and said mildly "A shocking want of manners. Of course, in my day, a lady would never have had to ask. Please be seated while I go in search of some service."

"Self service indeed," grumbled Lucius on the way back.

"It's not like home," Rose Trevor said a trifle wistfully.

The other girls nodded sadly in unison.

Mr. Callister, who'd come to fetch them back, had found the place in an uproar and had spent the next half-hour soothing ruffled feathers.

Malfoy, declaring the cottage pie to be inedible had thrown it down on the floor and had splattered several high-ranking Ministry officials at the next table in the process.

What was even more troublesome was that the witches seated with him had quickly recognized that their classmate would be facing immediate and possibly dire censure for his impulsive gesture. Therefore, in a show of support, they'd created a sticky morass on the floor by tossing their custard down to join the cottage pie.

Obviously, Malfoy was a dreadful influence.

After a severe scolding, the witches had looked suitably chastised but Lucius continued to look decidedly unrepentant.

'I can hardly chuck Malfoy out of the class without applying the same measures to these young witches' he thought with the beginnings of a headache pulsing behind his right eye.

It was a conundrum that didn't seem to have an immediate solution. He only hoped that their next instructor, Mr. Westin, who was teaching the class this afternoon, would have better luck controlling Malfoy.

Lucius' morning seating choice went out the window once he'd seen the new instructor who, after his five minute introduction, Lucius had determined was a complete prat.

'If he's not a Gryffindor, I'll eat my wand' he thought and then moved to a seat beside the rest of the students.

The middle-aged wizard with salt and pepper hair had spoken about 'team' and pulling together for the betterment of wizard kind. Sprinkled into his speech were references to honor, duty and acts of valor.

Lucius sighed audibly. Really, Dementors had a better grasp of reality.

Ms. Stilt, or rather, Anna whose given name Lucius had learned during their somewhat ill-fated luncheon whispered to him from behind her hand.

"He sounds like my last Quidditch captain," she hissed.

"Hogwarts?" he enquired.

"Yes," she said sotto voice.

"Let me guess---Ravenclaw?" he said.

Anna grinned back and nodded.

Lucius nodded. Slytherin would have been better but intelligence had its place. He could manipulate anyone given sufficient time.

"Mr. Malfoy is there something you'd like to share with the rest of class?" asked the instructor in an irritated voice.

An ugly looked passed over Lucius' face but his answer was mild enough.

"Nothing that bears repeating," he said equably.

"I assumed as much. Now, would you be kind enough to turn your attention back to me..." he said in a pompous voice.

Lucius' hooded expression boded ill for the substitute.

"Take out your parchment and quills please. This will be an informal test of your non-magical world current level of knowledge," said Mr. Westin.

Lucius twitched.

"You'll have a half hour to complete the questions. If you don't know something please move along to the next question rather than waste time. You can go back if you have time left," said the instructor as he flicked his wand and twenty questions appeared on the blackboard behind him.

Lucius glanced up at the questions and blanched. This would require creative cheating.

"I object," said Lucius letting his voice carry.

"Mr. Malfoy?" said the less than impressed instructor.

"This is a faulty method of testing," he said leaning back in his chair.

Annoyed, Westin's eyes narrowed. "And, just what method would you have us employ?"

"Obviously rote learning is not the same as being able to function under real conditions," he said pointedly.

There were murmurs of agreement from the witches.

"I agree," said Rose stoutly. "I found myself hopelessly lost on the muggle underground just last week," she said.

Several witches nodded and another spoke up.

"And those food stores are very tricky to negotiate. I had to use a memory charm on the clerk when she said I didn't have sufficient muggle funds..."

"Here now, we can't go around just picking and choosing..." said Westin starting to get distressed.

"Why not?" said Lucius arching his eyebrow.

"Yes, if we have the rest of the afternoon, why not go out on a field trip? Mr. Malfoy is right we're sure to learn more that way," said Anna.

There was a chorus of support for the plan as the witches set aside their parchment and quills.

"This is highly irregular," sputtered the substitute.

Lucius stood up and stretched.

"I'm sure you could obtain permission from your superiors," said Lucius mildly.

The young witches stared at the substitute awaiting his verdict.

"Of course, if you don't think you can handle it we'll all understand," Lucius said generously.

As a Slytherin, Lucius was well aware that pricking at that notorious and oft times misplaced Gryffindor pride was a sure way to elicit the desired effect.

Mr. Westin scowled for a moment.

"I'll check with the Department Head," he said shortly.

(Wizarding Press Association)

Melee Sparks Investigation of Muggle Relations Department

"There will be a full investigation I can assure the wizarding public," so said the embattled head of Muggle Relation Department, Malfius Donnat.

"Disgraceful," sputtered Leo McMann, head of the Ministry Security. "The idea of releasing a wizard of questionable background into a large population of muggles is completely unacceptable."

The fallout undoubtedly will continue to rain down upon the Ministry after the near disaster that occurred at the Harrod's Department Store located in muggle London yesterday afternoon.

Several trainees accompanied by their instructor, one of which included Lucius Malfoy, whose past connections with Death Eaters are well known, were involved in a large scale skirmish in the furniture department that lead to several injuries and an inordinate amount of memory charms being employed upon the hapless muggle bystanders. Details are sketchy, but apparently the trouble started when Malfoy referred to merchandise as 'rubbish' to a muggle couple preparing to purchase some of the items.

Malfoy reportedly impugned both the muggle couple's taste as well as the integrity of the store in offering such pieces. Management was called and the situation evidently disintegrated from that point.

The instructor, Mr. Westin, under questioning, referred to the expedition as a 'field trip' that had been approved by his immediate supervisor. He could offer no explanation however as to how his wand ended up in the hands of Mr. Malfoy. Since he was under the effects of Petrificus Totalus throughout the majority of the confrontation, he could contribute little in the way of details.

Until the investigation has been completed Mr. Malfoy and the rest of the trainees have been placed under house arrest.

"We've done nothing wrong," groused Rose Trevor allegedly one of those involved. "Mr. Malfoy was only protecting us when those brutes tried to throw us out."

The other witches in the training group have also supported Mr. Malfoy's version of events.

In point of fact, Mr. Malfoy took, on the whole, a positive view of his experiences.

"It was quite invigorating really."

End