Throughout the confines of her bedchambers, Narcissa paced with nervousness. She chewed her bottom lip, eyeing the articles of clothing sprawled out and flung lazily across the room. The matter of her situation hadn't dawned its worry until now. Without warning, it set in.

What would Lucius think to find out? While he had his back turned, his wife wandered off, caught by intrigue. His wife has found a mistress - a plaything sought for pure enjoyment. Which now proved to be a ridiculous idea on its own level. Still she had no means to regret this little affair, instead she may even have felt satisfied.

Along their one night's endeavor, Rita Skeeters was willed to please and now as the two witches were awake the memories drew back in fleeting images. The curiosity in each caress, the lust pooling in a frenzied drive and above all, the temptation that dared its cause. Now, in her hopeless reminiscing, Narcissa couldn't help suppressing a grin. What an impossible woman, Rita is, but what more could be expected? Two people meet, they carve into each other and from there it's a dance with possibilities. A dance with restriction and want.

When Narcissa peaked upward through her tussled fringe, she stopped her pacing. The esteemed journalist rubbed down her thighs, eyeing Narcissa. She took note of the woman's strain and mused seeing frown. Her head tilt to the side as she watched her slip silk fabric through each arm. Then, she sighed as one tug at the waist tied Narcissa's robe to her slender form. Finally as she seemed settled, Rita thought to speak and her lips parted. "Madame Malfoy, is that a worry line I see? You really do look tense. Something on your mind, dear?" She teased, motioning Narcissa to seat next to her upon the bed.

Shortly after sending her silent message of a passive hold, Narcissa plopped herself down next to Rita. She stared ahead, blank in expression and Rita's grin curved upward to the side. She pressed a finger at Narcissa's jawline, turning her to face close. "There's no need to worry, Cissa, believe me." She crooned.

Narcissa's arched brows raised and in response she gave a dark chuckle, disturbing Rita's gentility. "That's a laugh. You really think I have absolutely nothing to worry about? My husband will be home soon and you say I have nothing more to worry about. How just lovely." She replied, folding her arms over her chest.

"The little witchy is afraid I see? Oh do calm down, love. You're adding more strain than need be."

Nothing but tempting. This behavior simply amused Narcissa- if not provoked. She sighed in her defeat

and waved her index finger to point in the direction of a framed portrait. Resting just above the mantle, cool grey eyes stared back at the two. "You see that man there," Narcissa said. "He's returning from a trial today, expecting to come home, welcomed with open arms by his family."

Blonde locks of curly hair bounced back in place soon as Rita combed through. This early in the morning, she couldn't care less about such a formality and Narcissa's fretting only seemed melodramatic. "Trouble in paradise, the usual story. I hear it every day. It's nothing notable. Nothing that can't be hidden with carefulness." Her fingers brushed at Narcissa's shoulder before being urged away by the swat of a hand.

"Notable to me," Narcissa cut in. "But of course. In a profession like yours news gets tossed around like candy,"

"If you're worried I might be letting free of our little secret," she pressed two fingers against her lips. "Trust me when I say, it's safe by lock and key."

Narcissa took her wand from the bedside table and flicked the point towards Lucius' portrait. It fell to the floor with a clamor.

"No matter," she said simply. "I'd rather not look at him just now."

Rita approached the other witch carefully before resting full weight upon her shoulder. "Relax, dove. You're far too tense. Look at me."

The witch turned with ease her eyes seemed to soften appearance- much to Rita's surprise. Narcissa could be stubborn when she wanted to, it was no secret. But that didn't cease entirely. Both hands rest stiff in her lap, a composure fit to such a woman. Her tone of her voice dropped low as she questioned Rita with her own quizzical front.

Rita in response perked noticeably. "He's never going to find out,"

Then, the woman stood. Clothes gathered up in a heap. With abundant haste, she handed Rita her belongings. "Get dressed. Nothing happened."

Discerning her manner, Rita eyed Narcissa. But soon held herself standing and fully styled in yesterday's wear. Tight form fit snug around her body and unlike before, Narcissa didn't seem to notice. Instead of lingering over her stirring thoughts, she chose to march head forward into the kitchen. A hot cuppa coffee would suffice.

She didn't walk alone, Rita crept almost guiltily behind her. It wasn't asked of her to leave just yet- besides, conversation was far from over. Still there was plenty more to say.