Author's Notes: First up, this chapter ends on a very ugly note.
Emotionally abusive and quasi-consensual sex scene. If you haven't figured
out what Lucius and Narcissa are playing at, you'll know by the end of this
chapter.
Disclaimers: Nothing from the books or movies belongs to me.
Chapter 51: The Twisted Plan of a Twisted Mind
Mira woke early in the morning, to prepare for work. She put the kettle on for tea while she changed into her work clothes. She grabbed a handful of cookies from the basket of goodies, grabbed the business correspondence, and headed downstairs to unlock the door.
Business was slow, and she found herself with plenty of time on her hands to write Eloise and thank her for the robe. Mira also wrote to Susan, confirming her plan to meet Tricia at the Leaky Cauldron at ten in the morning on Thursday. Finished with the two letters. She went upstairs and quickly fetched the ball robe, and bundled it up in tissue paper before packing it securely in its box with a note for the tailor elves. Swiftfeather had just arrived from a night of hunting and doing whatever it was that owls did in their free time. Mira promised him he could nap on his perch all day if he would just carry a quick note to the courier service. Swiftfeather hooted in an irritated fashion, and flapped his wings at her.
"Oh Swiftfeather, come on. All I need is for you to run a note to the courier, so that they can come pick this up. Or would you rather carry it all the way to the workshop and then carry Eloise's note all the way to France?"
The bird begrudgingly stuck out his leg for Mira to tie the note to it. He flapped his wings vigorously; sending a few loose feathers flying, and took off out the owl window into the cold winter sky. A short while later, the owl returned to his perch, and turned his back to Mira, and hunkered down for a nap. A courier arrived shortly before noon, to pick up the ball robe and the scrolls for Eloise and Susan.
"The parcel goes to the workshop, if you could please take the scrolls to the postal center and have them dispatched to their destinations. One goes international, the other fairly local, but my owl is resting up for an evening delivery."
The young man tipped his cap and tucked the scrolls into a satchel. He levitated the parcel into a small cart outside the door and continued on his way. After helping a few customers spend their Christmas coins, she browsed a sample book, trying to come up with an idea for the professor's fancy dress robe. She decided that her best bet for keeping him content would be to have something made up in the style of Shakespearean era wizards. They were close enough to modern formal wizarding robes to be comfortable; but would pass for fancy dress. Dumbledore often wore robes very similar to ones of that era himself. But then again, he was a bit of an eccentric old wizard. She decided on a style, and made sketches on a blank parchment. She could use the shop's wholesale account, but even as such, she was on a budget. Mira found fabric scraps and made some additional sketches of embellishments for the robe. She rolled them up in a scroll and set it aside to send out with Swiftfeather when he was ready to make his evening run.
The time came for Mira to leave for her tutoring session. She closed down the store, packed the special order scrolls into Swiftfeather's satchel, and saw him out the window. She then grabbed her textbook, locked the door, and cast the security wards before walking over to the Three Broomsticks inn. She found Hermione sitting at a table by the fireplace waiting on her.
"Hi, I got here a little early so that I could check out the room. It's a little small, but for simple transfiguration work, it'll do just fine."
"Okay, lead the way. I'm not very familiar with this inn, I don't know where the private meeting and dining rooms are."
Hermione led Mira around a corner, past the bar, to a hallway with several doors. Each was a meeting or dining room. Some could hole large parties; others were small enough for a table for two and not much more. It was one of the smaller rooms, which Hermione had been given freedom to use for the tutoring sessions. Just as they were getting settled in the room, a serving girl knocked on the door and asked if they would like anything to eat or drink. Mira went ahead and ordered a pot of tea to share with Hermione, and a small selection of teacakes, as she had skipped supper to come straight over.
Hermione went over the basics of transfiguration, and produced a handful of matchsticks from her book satchel. Mira would start by changing the matchsticks into needles, then back to matchsticks again. Mira had no problem with that basic task. She and Hermione sat and enjoyed the pot of tea and chatted amicably. Hermione had a happy Christmas overall. Her parents held a formal party for friends and business associates and Hermione was deemed mature enough to attend instead of staying up in her room all evening. Mira told her of spending Christmas at Hogwarts and how she was amazed at the size of the school building, and would never want to be lost in the corridors without a good map.
Finished with their break, Hermione asked Mira to transfigure the teapot into a pumpkin. Which she did, sort of. The pumpkin had a spout shaped stem and a handle shaped leaf. But it was no longer a china teapot; underneath the lid were the inner parts of a pumpkin. She managed to get it back to a china teapot, albeit with a green lid and spout. Hermione changed the teapot back to pure white china with a flick of her wand. And commented that it was a good first attempt at changing a non-organic object into an organic object. It was easier to change organic to organic or inorganic to inorganic, but crossing that barrier between organic and inorganic was very difficult. She had thrown that task in to test Mira's level of expertise.
They talked about the rules of transfiguration. What was legal, and what was quasi-legal, and what was completely against wizarding law. One could transform objects at will, as long as one was not doing it for unethical reasons. Transforming animals was a gray area, and the legality of it was measured on a case-by-case basis. Transforming humans was against the law, unless done as a consensual temporary experience or in self-defense.
Hermione called the session to a close, by having Mira read the next section in the textbook, and asking her to practice turning objects into fruits and vegetables and vice versa. They had the room for another ten minutes, and spent the time chatting about the trip into London which Tricia had invited Hermione along on.
Mira walked Hermione to the floo fireplace and told her that she would see her again on Wednesday evening. Hermione took the floo to the Leaky Cauldron, and then took a taxi to the street her house was located on.
Mira paid the barmaid for the tea and cakes, and warmed herself in front of the fire before hastily dashing down the street to the tailor shop. She had no idea that a person in an invisibility cloak was following her; had she looked behind her, she would have seen the trail of footprints in the light dusting of snow on the ground. Mira reached the tailor shop and locked herself inside. The cloaked observer made their way to a carriage parked around the corner. The minute she reached the top of the stairs and lit the lamps and fireplace in the apartment, the tiny sphere in the curtains began to glow.
Mira set her boots in front of the fire to dry, and hung her cloak on the wall peg to dry. She pulled her work clothes off and tossed them into a hamper, pulled a clean night-chemise out of her wardrobe and laid it on the bed. She started running her bath water, and stripped down to the skin, tossing her underclothes into the hamper on top of the day-robe. The tub full, she climbed in, and soaked in the steaming hot water until she grew drowsy. She got out, toweled herself off, and sat at her dressing table to groom her hair and nails. Her beauty routine finished; she pulled the night-chemise on over her head, performed the charms to cast the security wards on the building, and crawled under the covers.
Before she could extinguish all the lamps, the glowing orb faded to darkness.
Lucius Malfoy carefully placed the velvet cloth over the far-seeing gazing crystal, and rang for his valet. He ordered the servant to fetch his wife and bring her down to his study. While waiting for Narcissa to arrive, Lucius opened his locked cabinet, and removed the bottle of liquid and the larger silver box. A knock at the doors of his study let him know that the time had come to test the potion.
He limped across the room, unlocked the door and dismissed his valet for the evening, telling him to thank the groundskeeper for a job well done, when the man returned with the carriage. Narcissa entered the study, and cast a disgusted look at the covered far-seeing crystal on the desk.
"Come now my darling. You know I had to use it to gain information that will ensure our plan plays out flawlessly."
"It just seems as if you have been spending an inordinate amount of time gaining information the past week; if that's what you're choosing to call it."
"My my, Narcissa. Do I detect a hint of jealousy in your voice this evening? One would think that being chosen as the vessel which will bring our Master back into the world would be an honor, not a hardship. Remember, you wanted it this way. Or, do I have to remind you that it was your idea to choose the donor?"
"I've changed my mind. I do not wish for it to happen this way, it was a mistake. My mind was clouded by thoughts of revenge. I wasn't thinking clearly. I want a random donor. Any fertile male will do. I am sure you could find a dozen or more men who would give their lives for the honor of fathering the re-incarnation of our Master. And why me? Why not Cassie? Her blood is pure, and she will do whatever it is that I ask of her."
"I think not. I have invested way too much energy into devising this plan; and to be frank, I anticipate the sweet taste of revenge myself. No, we have passed the point of no return, the plan will play out as I say."
"I have the feeling that this is not so much about serving your master as it is about revenge on a rival; as well as a means to twist the knife deeper into my back. What if I refuse? What if I refuse to go along with your plan?"
Lucius approached his wife and stepped around behind her. He embraced her around the waist, and drew her close against his chest. She bowed her head, fighting the tears that were welling up in her eyes. She would not let him see her cry; she did not want to give him the satisfaction. He leaned in over her shoulder and whispered in her ear.
"My dear wife. You must be anxious from the fertility potions. I have heard that they wreak havoc with some witches' emotional stability. Please don't turn such an honor into something ugly. Once Master has been reborn and has regained his full powers, you will be a queen among women. Can you honestly stand here and tell me that you would give that honor to a servant girl? Think of our son. Would you deny him the chance to inherit that kind of power simply because you have misgivings?"
Something stirred in Narcissa's calculating mind. Yes, if she did go through with it, she would indeed be a queen among women; and rank higher in the echelon of followers of the Dark Lord than even her own husband. The power base would shift, and she would be lady and master of her home. She could deal with her husband in good time, and raise her son to be loyal to her, and her alone. She felt her tears dry away, and turned to face Lucius.
"My dear husband. I have no idea what came over me. Of course, it must be the fertility potions. They have caused my hormones to shift out of balance, and have put me on edge. I apologize for my ungrateful behavior. Why, it is my humble duty and greatest honor to bear the re-incarnation of the Dark Lord. My only wish is that I be a worthy vessel."
"Then come, it's time to test the potion. I need to make sure that the transformation is flawless."
Lucius poured some of the viscous green liquid from the bottle into a silver goblet on his desk. He opened the little silver box and pulled a few hairs free from the little bundle. He dropped the hairs into the goblet and they were sucked down into the polyjuice potion, which started to turn a brilliant acid green.
"Dismiss your maid for the evening, and take the potion to your bedchamber suite. Lock the door behind you. I have the spare key. I'll give you time to undergo the transformation in privacy before I come and check the results."
Narcissa took the goblet from her husband and covered the top of it with her other hand. As she turned to leave, he reached out and took her gently by the shoulder.
"Remember, she's quite a bit larger than you, so you might want to change into your dressing gown before taking the potion. It would be a shame to ruin such an expensive robe by busting the seams."
A brief look of shock washed over Narcissa's face. She turned and fled from the study and up the stairs to her suite of rooms. She placed the goblet on her dressing table, and summoned her housemaid. She dismissed the maid to the servants' quarters for the evening, and locked the door to her chambers. She changed out of her sleek and fitted designer robe, into a voluminous velvet dressing gown, leaving the sash untied. She approached her dressing table, eyeing the goblet with a pained expression on her face. She picked it up, but hastily put it down again. She took a few deep breaths and reminded herself that it was only good for an hour, no longer.
She picked up the goblet, and thinking of the power that her role in all of this would bring her and her son, she drank the vile liquid. With a shudder of revulsion and an overpowering wave of nausea, she dropped the goblet and ran to her bathroom, expecting her stomach to heave. The nausea quickly passed; she splashed her face with cool water, and wiped it dry with the sleeve of her dressing gown. Nothing was happening. Maybe the potion wasn't brewed correctly, or she was in some way immune to it?
Slowly, she felt her body start to change. Instead of nausea, she felt very dizzy. Narcissa staggered back out of the bathroom and slumped onto her knees, against the side of her bed. It felt as if her bones and muscles had all of the sudden become liquid. The pain was less than she imagined though, nothing compared to childbirth. Narcissa looked down at her hands, and saw them get larger before her eyes. She clenched and unclenched them. It felt as if she had on thick gloves. She felt the fabric of the dressing gown strain across her shoulders, and felt the peculiar pull of gravity in places where she had never felt it before. She reached across her body for the goblet on the floor, and her upper arm met with resistance against the side of her chest. She looked down in horror and realized that the transformation was complete.
Lucius quietly turned the key in the door to his wife's suite of rooms. He crossed the floor of her sitting parlor, and stood in the doorway of her bedchamber. She was oblivious to his presence, kneeling before the large mirror on her wardrobe, a glazed expression on her face. From what he could see, the transformation had gone quite well.
"Stand up, let's see how it turned out."
Narcissa jumped and looked over her shoulder at her husband.
"I don't know if I can do this Lucius. She's so much bigger than I am, I can't even feel my center of gravity anymore. I don't even know how to move in this body."
"That's why we're doing this trial run, so that you can become comfortable in your role, my dear. You've got an hour to get accustomed to it. If you're still having trouble, there's more than enough potion and hair for you to take another dose. Now stand up, time is passing."
Narcissa shakily pulled herself to her feet, and braced herself against the side of the wardrobe. Lucius approached her with a critical eye. The height was right, the overall body size was right. The face and hair was most certainly right.
"Take off your dressing gown, let's see the whole thing."
Narcissa clutched the garment shut and shook her head.
"No. Please. Take my word for it, the transformation was complete."
Lucius sighed with exasperation.
"You know that I have to make sure that you'll pass up close. Believe me Narcissa; this is not for my pleasure, this is for the good of all who are loyal to our Master. Now please take off the dressing gown so that I can examine you thoroughly."
Narcissa tensed and turned her back to her husband. Not for his pleasure, indeed. She knew that he was enjoying it immensely and was taking a perverse thrill in the whole matter. She hated Mira, and hated the fact that the woman had drawn the attention of her husband. Her hatred went beyond jealousy. She couldn't care less what kind of muggle loving trash Lucius chose when he went slumming and whoring. He never let his dalliances affect their home life. But this Mira woman had invaded their lives in a most pervasive manner. He brought it home with him, and that made it personal.
She slowly let the dressing gown slide off of her shoulders and onto the floor. Lucius grabbed her shoulder and turned her to face him. Instinctively, her arms flew across her body in an attempt to cover herself.
"Narcissa, for Merlin's sake! I'm your husband. This false modesty is most tiresome."
She dropped her arms to her side and was horrified at the look, which crept across her husband's face. A predator sizing up its prey, he eyed her with lust and calculating malice. She couldn't bear to watch his eyes roam over a body, which was not truly hers. She looked down at the ground in shame. He stepped closer to her, and walked around her, inspecting every inch of the mimic body.
"Very nice indeed. I cannot tell the difference, but then again, I have not had the kind of. shall we say intimate contact that he has had with her. You will need to be more convincing than that if you want to succeed in your role my love."
Lucius reached up and ran his fingers through the thick curly hair.
"Walk across the room and then back to me."
Narcissa took tentative mincing steps to the other side of the room, shamefully trying to hunch her shoulders and hide her body.
"No, no no! Not like that! She's shameless Narcissa! She prances around like a whore! You've dealt with her in that tailor shop; you've seen how she moves. You must do better!"
Narcissa took a deep breath, and walked back across the floor towards her husband; head held high, shoulders back.
"Better, but not good enough. Loosen you body; let it move when you walk. And look me in the eye. She has no shame, no sense of proper decorum. Pretend that you're a muggle. I know you've seen muggle-born women walking down the street. I've seen you shoot them disapproving glares. Now, walk across the room and back again. You've got a half-hour left."
Narcissa focused on trying to act as low-bred and slatternly as possible, and walked across the room. She turned and looked her husband in the eye, and walked back towards him. Her stomach churned at the look in his eyes, she must have done it right this time.
He moved in close to her; his eyes slightly glazed, his breathing deep and heavy.
"Excellent my love. You've got it spot on."
He reached up, stroked her cheek, and pushed the hair off of her face. She looked away with her eyes as he tilted her chin upwards to inspect her face. He let his hand drop to her chest, and took one of her breasts in his hand. Narcissa gasped and stumbled backwards.
"Oh for the love of Merlin, Narcissa. You're my wife! And I need to see if it feels as accurate as it looks."
"You're being perverted Lucius! You have no idea what it feels like, and it doesn't have to feel right to you anyway! I know that you sit in your study and lust for her through that far-seeing crystal, but this is not some perverted sex game!"
He stepped closer to her, and took her by the shoulders.
"But it's just you and I Narcissa; husband and wife. How on Earth can it be perverted? You need to be comfortable with this body if you're to convince him that you're his whore. It's only for twenty more minutes Narcissa; you can do this. Think of the glory awaiting you when it's all said and done, hmmm?"
She looked him directly in the eyes, a cold expression on her face.
"Okay Lucius. I'll give you this if you promise me that you won't use his hair to have her for real. Promise me that you won't do it, and you can have me as her for the next twenty minutes."
"Narcissa, you insult me. I didn't keep his hairs for that purpose. I kept them for future use, to help me seek revenge against him and bring him down. The thought of using them to have my way with her never entered my mind."
"Promise me Lucius!"
"Very well, I promise. Now that your jealous little mind has been placated, you have slightly less than twenty minutes to become completely at ease within that body."
Narcissa walked towards the large bed, and picked her wand up off of the bedside table. She started to say the extinguishing charm, and Lucius took her arm and lowered her wand.
"Leave the lamps burning."
She shook his hand off of her arm and tossed the wand back onto the table.
"Oh, and do pretend that you're enjoying it my love. I know you're used to faking in bed, so this should be the easiest part of the deception for you."
"Fifteen minutes you bastard; then out of my chambers!"
Lucius crawled up onto the large bed, leaned back against the pile of silk pillows, and fumbled with his clothes. Exposed and ready, he motioned for his wife to join him on the bed.
"I want you on top, so I can have a better view."
Narcissa climbed awkwardly onto the bed and lowered herself down onto him. She stared at a spot on the headboard, just above his shoulder, and mentally distanced herself from her body as she gave him his wish. His cold hands roamed over her altered body, causing unfamiliar tactile sensations. She fought against the natural responses she was feeling; she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of pleasuring her this way. After a short while, her body started to feel strange, the potion was wearing off. She felt her body start to shrink back to its normal proportions. With a disgusted sigh, Lucius shoved her off of him, not bothering to finish. He got up and adjusted his clothes in front of the mirror. Narcissa lay curled up, with her knees against her chest, on the far side of the bed. Lucius picked up his cane and tossed the dressing gown at his wife.
"You'll do."
Without another word, he limped out of her bedchamber, and slammed the door behind him. Narcissa rang for her maid, and ordered the girl to draw a very hot bath. She then instructed her to strip the bed, put fresh linens on it, and leave a dose of dreamless sleep potion on her bedside table. With the housemaid busy changing the linens, Narcissa crawled into the scalding hot water and scrubbed herself raw; trying to wash away the feeling of dirtiness and shame, which crawled over her skin. She dried herself off, dressed in a modest night-robe and drank down the potion before crawling into bed. Before sleep overtook her, she thought of how much she despised Mira and how much she also despised her husband. And, how both of them would pay dearly when she was compensated for her role in this twisted plan.
Disclaimers: Nothing from the books or movies belongs to me.
Chapter 51: The Twisted Plan of a Twisted Mind
Mira woke early in the morning, to prepare for work. She put the kettle on for tea while she changed into her work clothes. She grabbed a handful of cookies from the basket of goodies, grabbed the business correspondence, and headed downstairs to unlock the door.
Business was slow, and she found herself with plenty of time on her hands to write Eloise and thank her for the robe. Mira also wrote to Susan, confirming her plan to meet Tricia at the Leaky Cauldron at ten in the morning on Thursday. Finished with the two letters. She went upstairs and quickly fetched the ball robe, and bundled it up in tissue paper before packing it securely in its box with a note for the tailor elves. Swiftfeather had just arrived from a night of hunting and doing whatever it was that owls did in their free time. Mira promised him he could nap on his perch all day if he would just carry a quick note to the courier service. Swiftfeather hooted in an irritated fashion, and flapped his wings at her.
"Oh Swiftfeather, come on. All I need is for you to run a note to the courier, so that they can come pick this up. Or would you rather carry it all the way to the workshop and then carry Eloise's note all the way to France?"
The bird begrudgingly stuck out his leg for Mira to tie the note to it. He flapped his wings vigorously; sending a few loose feathers flying, and took off out the owl window into the cold winter sky. A short while later, the owl returned to his perch, and turned his back to Mira, and hunkered down for a nap. A courier arrived shortly before noon, to pick up the ball robe and the scrolls for Eloise and Susan.
"The parcel goes to the workshop, if you could please take the scrolls to the postal center and have them dispatched to their destinations. One goes international, the other fairly local, but my owl is resting up for an evening delivery."
The young man tipped his cap and tucked the scrolls into a satchel. He levitated the parcel into a small cart outside the door and continued on his way. After helping a few customers spend their Christmas coins, she browsed a sample book, trying to come up with an idea for the professor's fancy dress robe. She decided that her best bet for keeping him content would be to have something made up in the style of Shakespearean era wizards. They were close enough to modern formal wizarding robes to be comfortable; but would pass for fancy dress. Dumbledore often wore robes very similar to ones of that era himself. But then again, he was a bit of an eccentric old wizard. She decided on a style, and made sketches on a blank parchment. She could use the shop's wholesale account, but even as such, she was on a budget. Mira found fabric scraps and made some additional sketches of embellishments for the robe. She rolled them up in a scroll and set it aside to send out with Swiftfeather when he was ready to make his evening run.
The time came for Mira to leave for her tutoring session. She closed down the store, packed the special order scrolls into Swiftfeather's satchel, and saw him out the window. She then grabbed her textbook, locked the door, and cast the security wards before walking over to the Three Broomsticks inn. She found Hermione sitting at a table by the fireplace waiting on her.
"Hi, I got here a little early so that I could check out the room. It's a little small, but for simple transfiguration work, it'll do just fine."
"Okay, lead the way. I'm not very familiar with this inn, I don't know where the private meeting and dining rooms are."
Hermione led Mira around a corner, past the bar, to a hallway with several doors. Each was a meeting or dining room. Some could hole large parties; others were small enough for a table for two and not much more. It was one of the smaller rooms, which Hermione had been given freedom to use for the tutoring sessions. Just as they were getting settled in the room, a serving girl knocked on the door and asked if they would like anything to eat or drink. Mira went ahead and ordered a pot of tea to share with Hermione, and a small selection of teacakes, as she had skipped supper to come straight over.
Hermione went over the basics of transfiguration, and produced a handful of matchsticks from her book satchel. Mira would start by changing the matchsticks into needles, then back to matchsticks again. Mira had no problem with that basic task. She and Hermione sat and enjoyed the pot of tea and chatted amicably. Hermione had a happy Christmas overall. Her parents held a formal party for friends and business associates and Hermione was deemed mature enough to attend instead of staying up in her room all evening. Mira told her of spending Christmas at Hogwarts and how she was amazed at the size of the school building, and would never want to be lost in the corridors without a good map.
Finished with their break, Hermione asked Mira to transfigure the teapot into a pumpkin. Which she did, sort of. The pumpkin had a spout shaped stem and a handle shaped leaf. But it was no longer a china teapot; underneath the lid were the inner parts of a pumpkin. She managed to get it back to a china teapot, albeit with a green lid and spout. Hermione changed the teapot back to pure white china with a flick of her wand. And commented that it was a good first attempt at changing a non-organic object into an organic object. It was easier to change organic to organic or inorganic to inorganic, but crossing that barrier between organic and inorganic was very difficult. She had thrown that task in to test Mira's level of expertise.
They talked about the rules of transfiguration. What was legal, and what was quasi-legal, and what was completely against wizarding law. One could transform objects at will, as long as one was not doing it for unethical reasons. Transforming animals was a gray area, and the legality of it was measured on a case-by-case basis. Transforming humans was against the law, unless done as a consensual temporary experience or in self-defense.
Hermione called the session to a close, by having Mira read the next section in the textbook, and asking her to practice turning objects into fruits and vegetables and vice versa. They had the room for another ten minutes, and spent the time chatting about the trip into London which Tricia had invited Hermione along on.
Mira walked Hermione to the floo fireplace and told her that she would see her again on Wednesday evening. Hermione took the floo to the Leaky Cauldron, and then took a taxi to the street her house was located on.
Mira paid the barmaid for the tea and cakes, and warmed herself in front of the fire before hastily dashing down the street to the tailor shop. She had no idea that a person in an invisibility cloak was following her; had she looked behind her, she would have seen the trail of footprints in the light dusting of snow on the ground. Mira reached the tailor shop and locked herself inside. The cloaked observer made their way to a carriage parked around the corner. The minute she reached the top of the stairs and lit the lamps and fireplace in the apartment, the tiny sphere in the curtains began to glow.
Mira set her boots in front of the fire to dry, and hung her cloak on the wall peg to dry. She pulled her work clothes off and tossed them into a hamper, pulled a clean night-chemise out of her wardrobe and laid it on the bed. She started running her bath water, and stripped down to the skin, tossing her underclothes into the hamper on top of the day-robe. The tub full, she climbed in, and soaked in the steaming hot water until she grew drowsy. She got out, toweled herself off, and sat at her dressing table to groom her hair and nails. Her beauty routine finished; she pulled the night-chemise on over her head, performed the charms to cast the security wards on the building, and crawled under the covers.
Before she could extinguish all the lamps, the glowing orb faded to darkness.
Lucius Malfoy carefully placed the velvet cloth over the far-seeing gazing crystal, and rang for his valet. He ordered the servant to fetch his wife and bring her down to his study. While waiting for Narcissa to arrive, Lucius opened his locked cabinet, and removed the bottle of liquid and the larger silver box. A knock at the doors of his study let him know that the time had come to test the potion.
He limped across the room, unlocked the door and dismissed his valet for the evening, telling him to thank the groundskeeper for a job well done, when the man returned with the carriage. Narcissa entered the study, and cast a disgusted look at the covered far-seeing crystal on the desk.
"Come now my darling. You know I had to use it to gain information that will ensure our plan plays out flawlessly."
"It just seems as if you have been spending an inordinate amount of time gaining information the past week; if that's what you're choosing to call it."
"My my, Narcissa. Do I detect a hint of jealousy in your voice this evening? One would think that being chosen as the vessel which will bring our Master back into the world would be an honor, not a hardship. Remember, you wanted it this way. Or, do I have to remind you that it was your idea to choose the donor?"
"I've changed my mind. I do not wish for it to happen this way, it was a mistake. My mind was clouded by thoughts of revenge. I wasn't thinking clearly. I want a random donor. Any fertile male will do. I am sure you could find a dozen or more men who would give their lives for the honor of fathering the re-incarnation of our Master. And why me? Why not Cassie? Her blood is pure, and she will do whatever it is that I ask of her."
"I think not. I have invested way too much energy into devising this plan; and to be frank, I anticipate the sweet taste of revenge myself. No, we have passed the point of no return, the plan will play out as I say."
"I have the feeling that this is not so much about serving your master as it is about revenge on a rival; as well as a means to twist the knife deeper into my back. What if I refuse? What if I refuse to go along with your plan?"
Lucius approached his wife and stepped around behind her. He embraced her around the waist, and drew her close against his chest. She bowed her head, fighting the tears that were welling up in her eyes. She would not let him see her cry; she did not want to give him the satisfaction. He leaned in over her shoulder and whispered in her ear.
"My dear wife. You must be anxious from the fertility potions. I have heard that they wreak havoc with some witches' emotional stability. Please don't turn such an honor into something ugly. Once Master has been reborn and has regained his full powers, you will be a queen among women. Can you honestly stand here and tell me that you would give that honor to a servant girl? Think of our son. Would you deny him the chance to inherit that kind of power simply because you have misgivings?"
Something stirred in Narcissa's calculating mind. Yes, if she did go through with it, she would indeed be a queen among women; and rank higher in the echelon of followers of the Dark Lord than even her own husband. The power base would shift, and she would be lady and master of her home. She could deal with her husband in good time, and raise her son to be loyal to her, and her alone. She felt her tears dry away, and turned to face Lucius.
"My dear husband. I have no idea what came over me. Of course, it must be the fertility potions. They have caused my hormones to shift out of balance, and have put me on edge. I apologize for my ungrateful behavior. Why, it is my humble duty and greatest honor to bear the re-incarnation of the Dark Lord. My only wish is that I be a worthy vessel."
"Then come, it's time to test the potion. I need to make sure that the transformation is flawless."
Lucius poured some of the viscous green liquid from the bottle into a silver goblet on his desk. He opened the little silver box and pulled a few hairs free from the little bundle. He dropped the hairs into the goblet and they were sucked down into the polyjuice potion, which started to turn a brilliant acid green.
"Dismiss your maid for the evening, and take the potion to your bedchamber suite. Lock the door behind you. I have the spare key. I'll give you time to undergo the transformation in privacy before I come and check the results."
Narcissa took the goblet from her husband and covered the top of it with her other hand. As she turned to leave, he reached out and took her gently by the shoulder.
"Remember, she's quite a bit larger than you, so you might want to change into your dressing gown before taking the potion. It would be a shame to ruin such an expensive robe by busting the seams."
A brief look of shock washed over Narcissa's face. She turned and fled from the study and up the stairs to her suite of rooms. She placed the goblet on her dressing table, and summoned her housemaid. She dismissed the maid to the servants' quarters for the evening, and locked the door to her chambers. She changed out of her sleek and fitted designer robe, into a voluminous velvet dressing gown, leaving the sash untied. She approached her dressing table, eyeing the goblet with a pained expression on her face. She picked it up, but hastily put it down again. She took a few deep breaths and reminded herself that it was only good for an hour, no longer.
She picked up the goblet, and thinking of the power that her role in all of this would bring her and her son, she drank the vile liquid. With a shudder of revulsion and an overpowering wave of nausea, she dropped the goblet and ran to her bathroom, expecting her stomach to heave. The nausea quickly passed; she splashed her face with cool water, and wiped it dry with the sleeve of her dressing gown. Nothing was happening. Maybe the potion wasn't brewed correctly, or she was in some way immune to it?
Slowly, she felt her body start to change. Instead of nausea, she felt very dizzy. Narcissa staggered back out of the bathroom and slumped onto her knees, against the side of her bed. It felt as if her bones and muscles had all of the sudden become liquid. The pain was less than she imagined though, nothing compared to childbirth. Narcissa looked down at her hands, and saw them get larger before her eyes. She clenched and unclenched them. It felt as if she had on thick gloves. She felt the fabric of the dressing gown strain across her shoulders, and felt the peculiar pull of gravity in places where she had never felt it before. She reached across her body for the goblet on the floor, and her upper arm met with resistance against the side of her chest. She looked down in horror and realized that the transformation was complete.
Lucius quietly turned the key in the door to his wife's suite of rooms. He crossed the floor of her sitting parlor, and stood in the doorway of her bedchamber. She was oblivious to his presence, kneeling before the large mirror on her wardrobe, a glazed expression on her face. From what he could see, the transformation had gone quite well.
"Stand up, let's see how it turned out."
Narcissa jumped and looked over her shoulder at her husband.
"I don't know if I can do this Lucius. She's so much bigger than I am, I can't even feel my center of gravity anymore. I don't even know how to move in this body."
"That's why we're doing this trial run, so that you can become comfortable in your role, my dear. You've got an hour to get accustomed to it. If you're still having trouble, there's more than enough potion and hair for you to take another dose. Now stand up, time is passing."
Narcissa shakily pulled herself to her feet, and braced herself against the side of the wardrobe. Lucius approached her with a critical eye. The height was right, the overall body size was right. The face and hair was most certainly right.
"Take off your dressing gown, let's see the whole thing."
Narcissa clutched the garment shut and shook her head.
"No. Please. Take my word for it, the transformation was complete."
Lucius sighed with exasperation.
"You know that I have to make sure that you'll pass up close. Believe me Narcissa; this is not for my pleasure, this is for the good of all who are loyal to our Master. Now please take off the dressing gown so that I can examine you thoroughly."
Narcissa tensed and turned her back to her husband. Not for his pleasure, indeed. She knew that he was enjoying it immensely and was taking a perverse thrill in the whole matter. She hated Mira, and hated the fact that the woman had drawn the attention of her husband. Her hatred went beyond jealousy. She couldn't care less what kind of muggle loving trash Lucius chose when he went slumming and whoring. He never let his dalliances affect their home life. But this Mira woman had invaded their lives in a most pervasive manner. He brought it home with him, and that made it personal.
She slowly let the dressing gown slide off of her shoulders and onto the floor. Lucius grabbed her shoulder and turned her to face him. Instinctively, her arms flew across her body in an attempt to cover herself.
"Narcissa, for Merlin's sake! I'm your husband. This false modesty is most tiresome."
She dropped her arms to her side and was horrified at the look, which crept across her husband's face. A predator sizing up its prey, he eyed her with lust and calculating malice. She couldn't bear to watch his eyes roam over a body, which was not truly hers. She looked down at the ground in shame. He stepped closer to her, and walked around her, inspecting every inch of the mimic body.
"Very nice indeed. I cannot tell the difference, but then again, I have not had the kind of. shall we say intimate contact that he has had with her. You will need to be more convincing than that if you want to succeed in your role my love."
Lucius reached up and ran his fingers through the thick curly hair.
"Walk across the room and then back to me."
Narcissa took tentative mincing steps to the other side of the room, shamefully trying to hunch her shoulders and hide her body.
"No, no no! Not like that! She's shameless Narcissa! She prances around like a whore! You've dealt with her in that tailor shop; you've seen how she moves. You must do better!"
Narcissa took a deep breath, and walked back across the floor towards her husband; head held high, shoulders back.
"Better, but not good enough. Loosen you body; let it move when you walk. And look me in the eye. She has no shame, no sense of proper decorum. Pretend that you're a muggle. I know you've seen muggle-born women walking down the street. I've seen you shoot them disapproving glares. Now, walk across the room and back again. You've got a half-hour left."
Narcissa focused on trying to act as low-bred and slatternly as possible, and walked across the room. She turned and looked her husband in the eye, and walked back towards him. Her stomach churned at the look in his eyes, she must have done it right this time.
He moved in close to her; his eyes slightly glazed, his breathing deep and heavy.
"Excellent my love. You've got it spot on."
He reached up, stroked her cheek, and pushed the hair off of her face. She looked away with her eyes as he tilted her chin upwards to inspect her face. He let his hand drop to her chest, and took one of her breasts in his hand. Narcissa gasped and stumbled backwards.
"Oh for the love of Merlin, Narcissa. You're my wife! And I need to see if it feels as accurate as it looks."
"You're being perverted Lucius! You have no idea what it feels like, and it doesn't have to feel right to you anyway! I know that you sit in your study and lust for her through that far-seeing crystal, but this is not some perverted sex game!"
He stepped closer to her, and took her by the shoulders.
"But it's just you and I Narcissa; husband and wife. How on Earth can it be perverted? You need to be comfortable with this body if you're to convince him that you're his whore. It's only for twenty more minutes Narcissa; you can do this. Think of the glory awaiting you when it's all said and done, hmmm?"
She looked him directly in the eyes, a cold expression on her face.
"Okay Lucius. I'll give you this if you promise me that you won't use his hair to have her for real. Promise me that you won't do it, and you can have me as her for the next twenty minutes."
"Narcissa, you insult me. I didn't keep his hairs for that purpose. I kept them for future use, to help me seek revenge against him and bring him down. The thought of using them to have my way with her never entered my mind."
"Promise me Lucius!"
"Very well, I promise. Now that your jealous little mind has been placated, you have slightly less than twenty minutes to become completely at ease within that body."
Narcissa walked towards the large bed, and picked her wand up off of the bedside table. She started to say the extinguishing charm, and Lucius took her arm and lowered her wand.
"Leave the lamps burning."
She shook his hand off of her arm and tossed the wand back onto the table.
"Oh, and do pretend that you're enjoying it my love. I know you're used to faking in bed, so this should be the easiest part of the deception for you."
"Fifteen minutes you bastard; then out of my chambers!"
Lucius crawled up onto the large bed, leaned back against the pile of silk pillows, and fumbled with his clothes. Exposed and ready, he motioned for his wife to join him on the bed.
"I want you on top, so I can have a better view."
Narcissa climbed awkwardly onto the bed and lowered herself down onto him. She stared at a spot on the headboard, just above his shoulder, and mentally distanced herself from her body as she gave him his wish. His cold hands roamed over her altered body, causing unfamiliar tactile sensations. She fought against the natural responses she was feeling; she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of pleasuring her this way. After a short while, her body started to feel strange, the potion was wearing off. She felt her body start to shrink back to its normal proportions. With a disgusted sigh, Lucius shoved her off of him, not bothering to finish. He got up and adjusted his clothes in front of the mirror. Narcissa lay curled up, with her knees against her chest, on the far side of the bed. Lucius picked up his cane and tossed the dressing gown at his wife.
"You'll do."
Without another word, he limped out of her bedchamber, and slammed the door behind him. Narcissa rang for her maid, and ordered the girl to draw a very hot bath. She then instructed her to strip the bed, put fresh linens on it, and leave a dose of dreamless sleep potion on her bedside table. With the housemaid busy changing the linens, Narcissa crawled into the scalding hot water and scrubbed herself raw; trying to wash away the feeling of dirtiness and shame, which crawled over her skin. She dried herself off, dressed in a modest night-robe and drank down the potion before crawling into bed. Before sleep overtook her, she thought of how much she despised Mira and how much she also despised her husband. And, how both of them would pay dearly when she was compensated for her role in this twisted plan.