A Black Matter
Harry was returning from the entrance of Slytherin common room, having just escorted Daphne back to her room under his cloak, since Daphne was far from a state appropriate for the public eye. He wanted to stay back there for a second round, but Daphne was afraid of her roommate arriving. It wasn't something that would discourage him, but he was reluctant to push Daphne too hard too fast.
He was still near the entrance, mulling about the plan they cooked up with Daphne about how to destroy Malfoy Family's credibility when he noticed a golden opportunity to initiate the first stage of his plan. Malfoy had just took a turn at the other end of the corridor, a crowd of Slytherins around him, Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini in addition to his usual bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle.
A thunderous expression appeared on Malfoy's face as soon as he noticed Harry. "Potter!" he shouted, drawing his wand simultaneously, dashing towards him without a concern. Harry also discreetly pulled his wand, but left it pointed on the ground. He could handle Malfoy without his wand, but he preferred to keep the ability as a hidden ace unless the situation demanded it. More importantly, he sent a mental sign to Black Ring, canceling its invisibility, as it being visible would work to his benefit. Malfoy was too angry to notice it, and Crabbe and Goyle were not famous for their observational skills. He wasn't sure about Zabini and Nott, but he was willing to bet that they would stay silent even if they noticed it, and it would be convenient to have witnesses later on.
Malfoy was just a step away from him, an angry expression on his face, pointing his wand towards Harry. It was a situation that demanded Harry's attention, which was precisely why Harry ignored him like he was invisible, and turned towards Nott and Zabini instead. "Hello, gentlemen. How can I help you?"
As Harry expected, being visibly dismissed as inconsequential didn't exactly help Malfoy's mental state. He grabbed Harry's collar and started to shout. "You bastard! I'll kill you if I see you near Astoria. You will leave her alone. Do you understand me?!"
While Malfoy was going on with his tirade, Harry was paying attention to others, to see if any of them noticed his new accessory. He even shook his hand discreetly, hoping one of them would notice before he needed to rely on acts that might also be noticed by Malfoy. A few seconds later, he noticed Zabini's eyes growing wide in shock as his gaze got stuck to his ring. Perfect, Harry thought. "What?" he murmured, acting like he just saw Malfoy. "Astoria wants to see me? Sure, let me go and meet her in an abandoned classroom?" he said, ending with an eyebrow wiggle that left no doubt about what he meant. His earlier words should have been clear enough, but over-explaining was never a bad path to take when it came to Malfoy. Then Harry turned his back, giving him the opportunity for a perfect sneak attack.
He was sure Malfoy would take the shot, though he kept his magical senses open just in case. There was always the risk that he underestimated the lengths Malfoy would go when he was angered, and dying from a cutting curse to the neck from behind just because he misjudged a situation would be just pitiful. He felt justified when he felt a bonebreaker leaving Malfoy's wand, but thanks to Malfoy's poor aim, it was moving towards his arm instead of somewhere lethal.
It wasn't something he couldn't dodge, but he just continued his walk and let it connect with his arm, its momentum enough to unbalance him, his fall accompanied by the horrible sound of a cracking bone. Despite the pain, a smile appeared on Harry's face, happy that his plan was progressing even better than he expected. There was only one question in his mind as he stood up, how much of his power he was going to reveal to Zabini and Nott. Too little, and they would defend Malfoy's side of events, thinking there was no consequence of angering Harry. Too much, he risked his abilities to be known by people less than friendly.
A seconds consideration later, he decided to go with the showy version, mainly because Zabini was the heir of his family, and impressing him would open the way for future cooperation, an impressive reward considering they stayed neutral in most events. And impressing Nott wouldn't hurt either. While he wasn't the heir of his family, he still held a significant sway in Slytherin, and he would be much more reluctant to support Malfoy's schemes if he knew just who he risked to anger. And it wasn't like he would be able to keep his abilities under cover for too long.
Decision made, Harry let his wand drop from his hand, but he made no attempt of picking it up, not giving even the slightest inclination that he was in pain. He could see a satisfied smirk on Malfoys face, a surprised one on Nott's, and a disappointed one on Zabini's. Then Harry smiled. It was a smile that a fish saw just before finding its end between razor-sharp teeth of a shark. He raised his hand, and a sudden wave of magical pressure moved in the corridor, strong enough to rattle even the onlookers. Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy ended up slamming into the wall, then slumped down, unconscious. He opened his palm, his wand flew back, then turned to Nott and Zabini.
"So, gentlemen," he spoke in a perfectly amenable tone. "I'm sure you witnessed Malfoy's cowardly attack on Lord Black, right?" he said, casually flashing his ring. Nott's mouth fell open in shock, while Zabini nodded dazedly. "I'm sure you would happily grant a minor boon by keeping what you saw here secret unless I call you to witness, right?" he added, flaring his power to make sure they understood it was not something they could ignore without consequences. Not only they would be wronging the newly revealed Lord Black, they would be wronging a wizard that just displayed a frightening amount of power and control in a casual manner.
Nott nodded in panic. "Of course, Lord Black," Zabini said calmly and eloquently, not showing any sign of his earlier shock, displaying an impressive capability for adaptation. Harry was impressed and took a note to pay more attention to him. Harry nodded, then started his walk to the infirmary, his mind already busy with the letter he was about to compose to Narcissa.
Narcissa Malfoy, nee Black, climbed the stairs of the Three Broomstick, her mind in shambles, trying to comprehend the situation she was in. Earlier today, while she was busy preparing for yet another tea party she was about to host in Malfoy Mansion, she received a very ominous letter, sealed with a personal sigil she hadn't seen for a long time, the personal seal of Lord Black, sending chills of fear across her body. No one was supposed to have access to that particular mark before Draco reached his majority and took the reigns as Lord Black.
However, no matter how bad how apprehension was, it melted against the utter fear she felt after she read the letter. The new Lord Black was informing her that her son attacked him while his back was turned with a potentially deadly curse, without any declaration or acceptable provocation. The possible ramifications of it were enough to freeze her blood, under the light of Black family charter. Black family respected sneak attacks and other underhanded methods, but only if they were successful, with failure earning harsh punishments.
Then, he had invited her to a private lunch meeting in Three Broomsticks, to discuss the apprehensible behavior of his son. To make things even worse, he signed the letter as Lord Black and nothing else, clearly intending to keep her uninformed, therefore unbalanced. She didn't like to admit, but the tactic was working excellently, mainly because of his son's idiocy, forcing her to act in a hurry, not allowing for any attempt to push the date forward while she gathered information about the mysterious appearance of Lord Black.
To make things worse, she hadn't been able to ask her son any question about the event. Draco would definitely inform Lucius, and he would insist on joining the meeting, something she didn't want for three reasons. First, because Lucius had a tendency to come too strong in any kind of negotiation, a tactic that rarely resulted in success when he met anyone other than his usual flunkies or cowards. Considering the possible implications of his actions, there was little chance Lord Black belonged to that group. After all, He was literally risking his life just by making Malfoy family aware of his existence. Second, because Lord Black asked for her, and her only, and she didn't want to risk his ire needlessly.
Third, she thought forlornly, pulling her outer robe tighter, was the clothes she was wearing under her robe. It was a distasteful option, but she wasn't above showing a little flesh to distract people if it allowed her to hold an advantageous position, though she rarely had to rely on that. She was aware of her status as one of the most beautiful women in Britain, and a flash of a smile and a careless lean to display a bit of skin saved her more than one situation. She saw no reason for this one to be different, especially since this new Lord Black was likely to be a young man, definitely no older than thirty-five. Otherwise, he would be eligible for his Lordship while Malfoy family was distracted with the aftermath of the war, getting his lordship an easy proposition.
She stood before the door and took a breath to calm her frayed nerves, then knocked the door. "Come in," a familiar voice said, but Narcissa failed to identify it. She entered the room, her eyes growing in shock upon seeing the sole occupant of the room. Harry Potter. She wanted to think that it was a joke because he neither had enough Black blood to matter, nor he was old enough to be eligible for Lordship in the first place. Still, she didn't spend any time disputing, because his left hand was gently resting on the table, the ring clearly visible. While it was possible to fake the ring, it was impossible to fake the subtle tug, connecting with her family magic.
"Why don't you sit down, Narcissa," Harry said, patting the seat next to him. He was smiling widely, smugness oozing from him.
For a second, Narcissa said nothing, trying to assess the situation in her mind. She felt most of her panic dissipate, Potter was not a bad one to be subject to as much as Lord Black's went. Young, impetuous, unaware of the finer details of the social culture of Magical World, inexperienced when it came to matters of the flesh, making him quite vulnerable to her manipulations. Even why he called her was clear. She knew the rivalry him and her son shared, and clearly, this was a part of it. Narcissa felt a spark of anger against his presumption, daring to try to manipulate her in a petty schoolyard rivalry, but didn't let her face to show any of it. He would learn his lesson soon enough.
Since the table already carried some refreshments, there was no need to call Rosmerta once again, so Narcissa locked the door. She didn't want any random onlookers for what she was about to do. She walked to the coat hanger and removed her robe, revealing the tight little black dress underneath, something she picked from a muggle shop. No matter how much distaste she had towards the new bloods with their bumbling ways, trying to destroy centuries of traditions, she couldn't deny the attractiveness of Muggle fashion. She never saw the point of wholesome rejection her husband advocated. She turned, and noted Harry's hungry gaze stuck on her long legs, occasionally slipping towards her bust, visible through an enticing cleavage. She walked to the seat Harry pointed, a deliberate, excessive sway on her hips. She made sure to accidentally rub her sides to his body while she sat down, knowing it would go halfway in turning his brains to mush. "So, Harry," she started in a seductive tone. "I can call you Harry, right?"
"Sure, Narcissa, you can call me whatever you want," Harry said, throwing his hand over her shoulder.
Narcissa was perturbed a little, finding his voice a little too calm for her tastes, but ignored it. She wanted to push his hand away, she didn't expect him to be that aggressive but didn't want to shot him down this early. After all, how much trouble a boy not even in his twenties could cause, she thought. "You mentioned an accident my son has caused. I was so sad when I heard it, and I'm sure Draco would extend his apologies to it as soon as I talk with him," she said in a husky tone, deliberately putting her chest out, creating a deep view of her cleavage. "We can wrap this issue quickly, right?"
"I don't know, Narcissa," Harry said, then his hand started to caress her arm gently. She gritted her teeth, annoyed at his presumption, and gave a small shook to her shoulder, hoping he would pull his hand at her subtle rebuke, but he kept his hand moving despite it. Then Harry continued. "A bonebreaker hex is not something I would call an accident."
And just like that, her earlier panic was back in full force. Apparently, the situation was worse than she assumed. It was one thing to use a schoolyard hex to cause harm, which always gave wiggle room to the attacker, but a combat spell was a clear cut case. As the Lord of the Black Family, it gave him the right to throw both her and Draco out of the family. It would be bad for Draco, resulting in a significant loss of prestige, but it was nothing compared to her own situation. It would be an unmitigated disaster.
She had no illusions about her marriage. It was little more than a business arrangement, and the most tangible thing she brought to the table was the connection to Black family. She was also an accomplished dueler and a shrewd politician, but she also knew that her husband consistently underestimated her skills in both dimensions. The fact that she was neutral in terms of the conflict between Voldemort and Dumbledore didn't help the matters either, creating a barrier that prevented him from trusting fully. If she lost her Black connection, Lucius would get rid of her almost instantly, and she knew far too much about Malfoy family operations for divorce to an option.
And more importantly, she had no family to protect her. Sirius, Bellatrix, and Andromeda were only ones left from her once extended family. Bellatrix wouldn't be of help from the hole she was in, and even if she was free, Narcissa never had a good enough relationship with her to expect to be protected against another Death Eater. While she still maintained a secret communication with Andromeda even after her banishment, and she would doubtlessly try to help, she lacked the power to protect her from Lucius. The only one that could possibly help her was Sirius.
But she didn't know whether she could ask for help. Before the war, when she thought he was supporting Dumbledore's side, they had a tentative communication, based on mutual respect. Narcissa ignored his pseudo-banishment from the family, and Sirius respected her neutrality. But still, learning that Sirius was a supporter of Voldemort all along had been a nasty surprise to her, as if he lied something as fundamental as this to her, what else she could trust. An image that was solidified after him rabidly trying to kill Potter, just like Bellatrix would. And he never ever tried to contact with her after he was free, something he should be able to do through Lucius easily. So, Narcissa didn't think Sirius would be a viable defender if she suddenly became Lucius' target.
A glance at Harry's face revealed a supremely confident face, showing that just how badly she misjudged the situation. Harry looked fully aware of implications of his implicit threat and was aware just how badly he managed to corner her without even lifting a finger. It was clear that no matter her choice, he would be the victor in a sense. Either she would reject and die, all without a fault of his own, or she would comply with his wishes.
The first one was not an option, she didn't want to die, not like this. She needed to convince Harry to keep her as a part of the Black Family no matter what, something Harry was apparently aware of. Whether Draco stayed in or out didn't matter much, after all, he would still be the Malfoy Heir, granting him a degree of protection. She was under his control, making her feel powerless in a way she never faced before. Then, he turned his emerald gaze to her eyes, keeping her prisoner. Suddenly, his amused expression went serious, and a wave of power slammed her, permeating the room in a magnitude she only experienced twice, once with Dark Lord, once with Dumbledore, the aftermath of a raid that left several of his students dead. And while his power didn't have the burning fury of Dark Lord, or cold rage of Dumbledore -it felt more like a warm blanket- its intensity and power was no less. It finally clicked just how truly hopeless her situation was…
In that situation, she almost welcomed his hands, one caressing her stomach while the other wandered over her legs. At least, he had a price in his mind in return for keeping her in the family. Still, the realization didn't prevent her from freezing in shock, leaving Harry free to explore her body with impunity. It had been a long while since she felt a man's touch. Her husband never did after Draco's birth, and despite her frequent hidden frays to London, she was never tempted to try a muggle man, their lack of magic was repulsive to her. She did her best to endure as Harry's hands explored her body, after all, her destiny was between his lips.
But then, things started to go out of control. Despite her best efforts to keep her eyes away, her gaze fell on his slightly parted lips, wondering about just how aggressive he would be if she put her lips over them. And even when she managed to keep her gaze away, it fell on his crotch instead, enchanted by the sheer size of the tent building up there. His fingers slowly traveled up her side, leaving a glancing trail to her breasts, still covered with her dress, and reached the edge of her lips, leaving an electrified trail behind.
Her mouth opened without a conscious thought, and his finger slipped inside. Her lips clamped around it. A wave of anticipation went through her body as her tongue touched him. Something in her mind clicked, and she came to a decision. She slipped her hand down to his crotch, her mouth opening in shock upon feeling its size. Seeing it through hadn't prepared her from feeling it. A smile sneaked into her lips, maybe convincing her new Lord wouldn't be such a chore. Enthusiasm rose inside, causing her hands to tremble. "Is there anything I can do to make you forgive me, my Lord?" she murmured, trying to hide her sudden enthusiasm.
"Now that you mentioned it, actually there is," he said, his smile getting much wider, his husky tone enough to send shivers across her body.
Narcissa gave up her attempts to control her shallow breathing as a lost cause, as an arousal she never felt before arrested her mind, somehow born from her utter loss of control. She leaned forward and captured his lips, still carrying the aroma of the exquisite wine they were drinking moments ago. Like she expected, his tongue assaulted her mouth instantly, exploring her flesh with great fervor. She pulled back, her tongue lingering on her lips in disbelief. It had been a long time since she had kissed someone, but even the best one she had in her admittedly limited experience was eclipsed compared to the one she just received, filling her a pleasure she never felt before. Even the best sex she had paled in comparison to that kiss.
"Stand up," Harry ordered, and she was halfway up before she even processed the order. "Good girl," he said, and a thrill went through her, her smile widening slightly, despite a part of her mind freezing in shock. Never before someone ordered her so dismissively, and she never thought it would cause something other than a flying rage. "Strip," he said, and her hands instantly darted to her zipper, only to be stopped by a motion. "Slowly," he added. Narcissa blushed like she was just a teenager who received a reprimand. Still, a small rebellion rose inside her. If he wanted a show, she would give him one, one good enough to blow his mind. As a pureblood, she had been classically trained in dance, a repertory she carefully enhanced during her escapades to Muggle London.
She started swaying to an imaginary music, her motions careful, controlled. She waved her wand once and her zipper started to open in its own violation, dragging slowly. Harry's eyes were fixated on her body, but his expression was calm. But she wanted him crazy with arousal. She left her wand to the side and sped up even further. And a while later, she turned her back and leaned forward, displaying her panties, a red, barely visible piece she picked from an exemplary shop called Victoria's Secret, and she perked up when she heard Harry, whistling in appreciation. Her dress slid even lower, and she put her arm to create a barely sufficient cover for her perky breasts, then turned back and resumed her dance, her dress sliding even lower at her each step. Her heart was beating with excitement as more of her flesh revealed under his gaze. Soon, the dress was low enough to step out of it without skipping a beat, forcing her to rely on her arm and her panties as a cover, both quite insufficient if Harry's satisfied expression was any indicator.
Then Harry raised his finger and called her closer…