I shivered, though the house was magically warmed, it never seemed to retain any kind of heat. I stayed mostly in my room, too bored and too cold to stray elsewhere. I could hear Lucius' voice rumbling through the floorboards, but more importantly, I could feel the Professor's velvety replies. I could sense him, his foreboding, formiddable presence, the black linen trousers swishing over polished wood.

I could not help but feel a twinge of guilty fear, for my secret was in the unlikliest of hands. Never had I thought that my once hated Professor would ever be asked to take upon a potentially life endangering scandal. It was almost humorous, in retrospect.

I flopped unceremoniously, and in a very unladylike manner, upon my bed. I groaned and rolled over, throwing the stupid, trashy novel I had been reading against the wall, and heard a minute curse from the miroor which it had grazed. I was aware of slight patter of feet, and I rolled on my back, seeing the visitor at an oddly reticent manner. It was the house elf, and she was sniffling through her enormous nostrils.

Missy, the master woud likes you to come for dinner, it squeaked, grabbing onto a pair of unimaginably filthy knickers that it wore. I nodded, and let my eyes roll, seeing my hair brush the floor. It reminded me how Lucius liked me to make love to him, draping my hair across his chest, his cold skin warmed by a heart he could never contain.

He says that he would likes you to wear the red dress, the one he brung back from London, missy, it said further, so quietly I strained to hear. I gave an annoyed shrug, tiring of my husband's game of dressing me. It padded over to the closet and slowly removed it from the hanger. Although at one point I had actually felt some sort of pity for these things, I could not help but feel annoyed as it struggled to stand tall enough to reach a dress sleeve.

I rose, stripping my shirt and pants off, and settling myself in the chair so the elf could lace me. I took a breath, accustomed to the constricting stays, and lifted my hair so that it could see what it was doing.

The dress fit perfectly, by magic of course, for there was no other way in which I could possibly be poured into such a tiny garment. Lucius, as decadent as he was, had good taste, and the color suited me perfectly. I didn't like the dress, for it reminded me too much of what Narcissa Malfoy had been wearing when I had first met her.


I powdered my face, and allowed the elf's nimble and appropriate fingers brush some vile smelling cosmetic on me. My hair was pulled back into a chignon, and heavy, bejeweled earrings clipped to me.

A giant ruby sat nestled in the hollow of my throat, a baby's fist of blood upon my white skin, and I shuddered. It was enchanted to grow warm and beat, and although I had always detested this remarkably grotesque bijou, I wore it anyway. The effect was luminous, and I was pleased. I had no inkling as to why I should go to such lengths to appease only my husband and bastardly teacher, but I excused it as silly excitment to have such an alarmingly dangerous guest in the house. For some unknown reason, I could remember not my husband' s face and gaze, only the penetratingly vicious half hoods that sheltered the Professor's menacing eyes.



A/N: Thanks for reviews. I know that this is probably too dismal and somber for everyone's taste, but I'm immensely grateful for those that this has sparked an interest in. Anyways, Much lurve to all readers. Title from Iago's speech in Othello.