The feel of the redhead's kiss still burned on her lips, the ringing laughter still echoed in her ears. It had all been just an innocently teasing ploy to get Lucius Malfoy, that seventh-year adonis, to notice her, Narcissa.
But it backfired... at least, it had gone a completely different direction.
For once, Narcissa had dressed to impress. It was the winder ball, and there would be no better chance. She chose a pale pink gown of modest cut from her equally modest wardrobe, and enlisted the aid of several slytherin girls to turn it into something more. Modesty was gone soon enough, and in its place was temptation and sensuality. Ambition, she thought, at its best.
With her figure outlined by the dress, and her pert breasts cupped into a breathtaking swell by Moira Parkinson's special bra, everyone agreed that she could lure the headmaster himself into bed – maybe even stuffy old professor Dumbledore, the old coot.
So it was with high hopes that Narcissa entered the Great Hall that night, even if she was dateless. Those hopes even lasted when no one approached her for the first dance. They lasted through the second, as well. When the orchestra began a spritely waltz for the third song, Narcissa swallowed, and had to put a little more effort into not looking around for Malfoy. Surely he'd noticed her by now... He was here with Veila Goyle, for heaven's sake. Even on her worst days, covered from neck to ankle in wool robes, Narcissa beat Goyle.
The fifth dance saw desperation dawning in the fair girl's eyes, and it was then that they happened to land on Lily Evans. And there they stayed. After all, it was gutsy even for a Gryffindor to crossdress at a school event – Evans was wearing a tux, standing with Potter and Lupin, chatting away.
Shock turned into amazement, and amazement into admiration, albeit grudging, as Narcissa studied the scene. She looked around to see if anyone else was watching Evan's show. Across the room, leaning against the wall and swilling a glass of punch in his hand, stood Lucius Malfoy. His gaze was unmistakably pinned on Lily, and his expression was a mix of predation and contempt.
A spark of an idea hit Narcissa. There was no better way to catch his gaze than to enter into his line of sight. Did she dare?
Her eyes lowered to look at her feet. She couldn't... It would be too much of a scene, and it would spark rumors. She took in her dress, adorned with sparkling beads and pearls from her best necklace. Determination rose within her. All this effort, all this dreaming! It couldn't go to waste.
She raised her chin up, set her gaze on Evans, and made her way across the room. "Not even Sirius!" James Potter was saying as Narcissa came within earshot of the trio of Gryffindors. Lily laughed, a richly melodious sounds, and shook her head. Her hair was bound back with a ribbon, but the coppery red curls cascaded down her back and waved with her motions.
"What about the time he ran naked through the hall at lunch?" she countered.
Remus Lupin barked a laugh as Narcissa slowed to wait for a break in the conversation. "That was the best! I thought Professor Binns was going to keel over! He turned the strangest color!"
"No worry, Sirius will kill him yet," Lily said lightly, clasping her arms behind her.
"Still, the removal of clothes is one step above wearing those of the opposite gender," James said, his arms crossed. He frowned at Evans, clearly displeased with her.
"Oh, bugger off James. He said he would have worn a dress and gone as my date if 'that damned Ravenclaw' hadn't asked him to the dance," Lily said, scowling mockingly at Potter. Narcissa inspected her hands, hoping she was being inconspicuous.
"I still can't believe she did. What a catch!" Lupin sighed appreciatively.
Potter's head whipped towards him, his expression darkening impossibly. Narcissa stared. Was that jealousy there? Before she had time to consider the implications, a voice snapped her attention away.
"Can we help you?" Lily Evans asked, in an overly polite tone.
Ever the united front, Narcissa mused. "Yes, actually," she replied brightly. Admiringly without faulter, she continued. "Would you do me the honor of dancing this next song with me?"
Oh gods, she'd actually done it. She kept her expression politely enquiring, hoping that none of her nervousness showed.
The three Gryffindors gaped. It might have been comical from an outsider's point of view. Just then the current song flourished to an end, and Narcissa held out a hesitant hand, this time failing to keep anxiety from leaking into her expression.
Lily blinked, then reached out to grasp Narcissa's hand. Then they were on the dance florr, and Narcissa pushed away thoughts of how warm the redhead's palm and fingers were. Determined not to let this be awkward – for her intended spectator's sake, she reminded herself – she smiled gently at Lily. "Thank you," Narcissa said.
Lily smiled back, her gaze guarded and speculative. "My pleasure," she replied.
Narcissa shivered. Surely that undertone was just her imagination. As was the sensuous
expression burgeoning in those emerald eyes...
The torchlight sparkled in flames along Lily's curls where wisps of the coppery stuff had escaped their ribbon to rebelliously frame the Gryffindor's face. Narcissa wondered what she'd gotten herself into. It was suddenly uncomfortably warm in the hall.
"What drove you to cross so many bounds and ask me to dance," Lily suddenly asked.
The Slytherin girl swallowed. "It was an impulse," she answered simply, with a shrug.
Lily's grin hit Narcissa like a blow to the solar plexus. Or a soft stroke in just the right spot...
"Ah, I can understand impulses," Lily agreed, "and how much fun acting on them can be."
The blonde couldn't help but smile back. Then she cast an amused, pointed glance about them at the many people watching and talking. "What about the consequences?" she asked.
"Oh, those come later," Lily said dismissively. "Just relax and take things by the moment."
Narcissa nodded, then nearly cried out in dismay as the song ended. The feeling doubled when the headmaster stood and cleared his throat. That had been the last dance. Now all that was left were the announcements before holidays began the next day.
The two girls drew apart slowly, gazes locked.
Desperate for just another moment or two – and amused in a distant part of her mind that she was heeding the redhead's advice so soon – Narcissa strove for words. "Thank you again," she muttered, feeling pathetic.
Lily's mouth quirked up at one corner, and she stepped close once more. "Again," she murmured, "my pleasure," and then her mouth was pressed against Narcissa's in an instant of searing heat.
Just as quickly, it and she were gone, leaving only the ghost of a kiss, and the sudden sight of Lucius Malfoy standing across the hall from her with a stunned, absolutely speechless expression.
A slow smile stretched Narcissa's still-warm lips. She shrugged at Malfoy, the smile turning into a grin.
She'd accomplished her goal for the night, fulfilled a dream. She certainly had Malfoy's attention. Fortunately or unfortunately, it had only created more desires in its place. Now the arrogant, severe expression of her fellow Slytherin had been replaced by the vison of a copper-locked witch with musical laughter, soft hands, and hot lips.
With a light step, Narcissa turned her back on the still gaping Malfoy, and headed out of the Great Hall.