Once the idea had taken root in his brain he couldn't dig it out, and by sunset, he was at the Manor sorting through the bin of portkeys.  Narcissa liked to keep them around.  The idea of making a reservation with the Ministry to use public keys made her wrinkle her nose and grimace as if she'd accidentally stepped in something foul so, despite the exorbitant cost, a key to the Malfoy properties in France was almost always available.  He grabbed it, grabbed a return key, and within an hour had portkeyed to one house, apparated to the pet shop, and come out with a giant cage of angry birds in his hand, earmuffs on his head.