Chapter Ten: And I Had a Sudden Craving for Powdered-Sugar Doughnuts

I'd say this about James Potter—he was thorough. Very thorough. Didn't miss a trick, that one. It wasn't any wonder he and Sirius had thus far escaped expulsion so many bloody times.

And even if I wasn't entirely pleased with my own role in his master plan, I could appreciate the big picture and the eventual result, and I was perfectly glad to have a hand in this one. This time it was personal; this time it meant something bigger.

In my opinion, revenge was a dish best served as soon as fucking possible.

One thing was certain in my mind by the time I'd been sworn to secrecy and debriefed of the plan. This was that even if James got us arrested—or committed, for all that—Snape would get his comeuppance, and get it… er… thoroughly.

I was up in the seventh year boys' dorm, the door securely locked, surrounded by all four of its boarders.

As James and Sirius worked on transfiguring this and adjusting that, Remus sat on his trunk at the foot of his bed, fidgeting and fussing with his sleeve and looking decidedly remorseful.

"I feel terrible," he said, not for the first time tonight. "We lost her in all the activity, I didn't think anything of it…" He swallowed deeply and squirmed uncomfortably, ploughing his fingers through his hair—again. The sandy-brown strands were beginning to stand on end.

I looked up from Sirius' ministrations to my top—he'd flicked open a button or two with alarming expertise; "for the betterment of the plan", he said—and gave Remus a pained smile, because I was feeling quite a bit of guilt about Aubrey as well. But, as I'd told him many times already, it wasn't his fault—nobody could have predicted she'd run into Snape.

"I know, I left her behind too," I said, then gagged, gaping in surprise at my new, strange voice. "What the hell, James!"

It sounded like something out of a Muggle naughty film—all rich and husky and seductive.

He paused in transfiguring the gold-and-red trim on my stockings and tapped his chin thoughtfully, turning to Sirius for a silent consultation.

Sirius nodded in agreement, though no actual words had been exchanged. "You're right, it's too much." He pointed his wand at my throat, flicked his wrist, then said, "Right, try that."

"What did you even do?" I grabbed my throat, eyes widening. "Shi—eurgh—crap, this is weird!"

My voice had softened slightly, becoming less rich and haughtier. My words suddenly held a delicate, schooled cadence that was so disgustingly prim, I couldn't even swear properly.

But both boys ignored me, continuing the transformation, muttering spells under their breath, tugging and prodding here and there.

"Cheer up, Remus," I told him, squirming and trying not to giggle, as I was very ticklish. "We're making up for it now, aren't we? And Aubrey doesn't blame us, she's already told me so at least half a dozen times."

He nodded glumly. "Still. She wasn't accustomed to all the Quidditch excitement. I should have known she'd get swept away in it…"

I eyed my mate curiously. As far as I knew, Remus and Aubrey had been familiar with each other's acquaintance only the few hours since I'd introduced them. So why was he so overly concerned with her well-being, even if she was a friend of mine?

Aubrey was with Lily in the girls' dorms now, the latter attempting to calm the former down, while apologising profusely for not going to the match with her. I resented Lily a bit for that (what, did she think I was completely incapable of taking care of people? All run-ins with Severus Snape aside, of course), but I chose not to voice it, as she had been almost agreeable to me when I brought Aubrey to her after getting in from the match, before going off to track down James.

Sirius straightened up, took my chin in his hand and began transfiguring my facial features, glancing now and again at a photograph that Peter held up next to my face. "This will be bloody great if everything goes according to plan, and I don't see why it shouldn't. Everything's nearly done—eyes nice and wide, love… there's a good lass."

He gently raised my eyelid with his thumb, then waved his wand and I felt an odd, sort of warm spreading sensation over my eyeball. He grinned in satisfaction, released my eyelid, and transfigured my other eye.

After several more productive minutes, even Remus had quit moping and was now goggling at me in amazement.

"The likeness is astonishing," he remarked, rising from the trunk to inspect me closer.

Peter, however, had seated himself back on the bed and was making a face as he stared at me. "It's sort of creepy, actually."

I stuck my tongue out at him, and Remus laughed.

"At least there's no doubting it's still her."

"Shut it, Lupin."

A moment later, James stepped back, surveying me with a critical eye. Sirius hovered a few inches away, looking anxious.

Abruptly James turned a bright, unexpected shade of red.

"What is it?" I demanded.

"Well, everything's perfect, except…" He cleared his throat and gestured unhelpfully in my general direction, "…except, er…"

My brows rose. "Except what?"

James gestured vaguely again, still red as ever, his eyes fixed stubbornly on a bit of wall over my left shoulder. Yet again, Sirius seemed to know exactly what James was saying, even though he hadn't spoken a useful word.

But whatever in hell James was talking about didn't seem to please Sirius very much at all. In fact, he looked downright bothered.

"What?" he yelped and hurried forward to grasp me by the shoulders, almost protectively. He glared at James defensively. "You don't—it's not—I don't—why?" he burst out at last, his tone edging towards horror.

Was James trying to steal his paw-print boxers?

But then Remus' brows shot up and he said, "Oh. Oh, I see what you mean." He appeared to be staring at my chest, which was weird enough in and of itself, as Remus Lupin was doing the staring, and I had never met a more gentlemanly and respectful bloke than he. If he was going to gawp at someone, he at least had the consideration to do it subtlely, like behind a book or something.

"What? What? What's going on, I don't get it!" Peter exclaimed, hopping off the bed and jabbing Remus in the ribs.

You and me both, Pete, I thought inwardly, feeling a bit disgruntled.

Sirius let out something akin to an aggrieved howl and actually shoved me behind him, shielding me with his body.

"No! I will now allow you to tamper with the work of God! Blasphemy! Sacrilege! I'll fight you Potter, don't think I won't!"

James crossed his arms, looking stern all of the sudden. "Padfoot. Don't be an idiot. We'll put them right again, but you and I both know that Tee's a bit more… er… endowed than your cousin, and it's details like that which will muck the whole thing up. You do want to succeed, don't you?"

I was fairly certain I knew what they were rowing about now. I stepped out from behind Sirius and looked down at my breasts, pushing them upwards unabashedly.

"You have to admit, your cousin's tits are rather different from mine," I pointed out, still pushing and adjusting my breasts to attempt to make them smaller. I shook my head. "S'no good. Blokes notice these things, Sirius. They'll have to go."

"But…" Sirius, looking deflated, reached out a hand as if to give them a feel or two of his own, but then dropped it quickly when he caught my pointed look and James' loud, "Oi!"

He stepped close and leaned down to whisper in my ear, "I never even got to touch them properly." He sounded positively distraught.

I laughed out loud. "It'll be fine, I'll be back to normal as soon as Snape gets what's coming to him." I kissed his cheek, then faced James again.

"Well, go on then."

He had been looking at Sirius with an odd expression on his face, but shook himself and nodded, raising his wand. Flushing deeply, he then performed a complicated series of transfigurations.

My whole upper torso tingled pleasantly and I felt a sort of lightness all of the sudden, as if a cumbersome weight had been lifted. I hadn't realized my breasts were even that heavy, not until they were gone—well, smaller, anyway. I looked down at my now much smoother chest and grinned, saying, "D'you know, this feels pretty good, like a load off. I might just keep them this way."

Sirius let out a choking sound.

"Right," James said, at last. "You're done, I think. Time for the final opinion."

I went over to the mirror on the wall—and actually screamed a tiny bit at what I saw.

My height, feet and legs appeared to be the only things unchanged (she was a bit taller than me, but heeled shoes would take care of that.) My hair was down to the middle of my back, now, and pale blond. My eyes were an icy blue and almond-shaped, my lashes longer but thinner, my lips more pouty and more classically bowed. My Gryffindor uniform now boasted Slytherin silver-and-green, and I appeared much more slender with white, tapered fingers, ivory skin, and, of course my newly svelte upper-body.

Besides a few minor details that I knew a man would never notice (a freckle here and there, etc.) I was the spitting image of Narcissa Black. I could have easily been her twin.

Oh God. Oh eurrrgh. Hadn't I suffered through enough hideous mental images for one day?

"If I'd known you were going to mess about with something that absolutely did not need messing about with, I'd never have pushed for this," Sirius announced darkly.

"Stop pouting," I ordered. "I'm flattered—I think—but this isn't the time for second thoughts. Now, are we doing this or aren't we?"

Sirius scowled. "This, from the girl who earlier announced she would rather eat her own foot than have anything to do with our plan."

I sniffed. "What's your point?"

Remus, James, and I stood in the second-floor corridor at the foot of the East Tower, where our informant (a well-paid fifth year) had assured us Narcissa would be at eight o'clock tonight, making up for a missed Astronomy test. According to the Marauder's Map, our informant was not wrong.

"Has Sirius got the password, yet? Or Peter, the camera?" I whispered, nudging James with my elbow as we huddled together under the Invisibility Cloak.

He glanced obligingly at the corner of the map that showed the corridor with the statue of the one-eyed witch, and shook his head. "They're not at the rendezvous point yet."

I nodded and shivered as a draft blew down through the stone tower into the hallway below, and stepped absently closer to Remus, who wrapped a light arm about my waist, also quite absently.

"Here she comes," he murmured, tapping the map where a dot labelled "Narcissa Black" had begun its descent of the tower stairs.

A few moments later, James was surreptitiously poking his wand out from between the folds of the Cloak, the tower door was opening, and Narcissa—blessedly alone—was stepping out.

I glanced down the hall to see if anyone was coming, then nodded to James when I saw no one. He waved his wand at a passing Narcissa and she promptly crumpled to the floor in an unconscious heap of blond hair and moonbeam skin.

I tut-tutted, watching closely as James and Remus slipped out from under the Cloak, lifted her tall, slender form and carried her to a nearby tapestry, which hid one of many of the castle's secret passages. Mindful of Filch, I wasn't surprised to hear Remus cast a quiet Disillusionment Charm.

They came back out into the main hallway, covering themselves again quickly with the Cloak, and we hurried off to wait for the other two by the statue of the one-eyed witch.

At eight-forty-five, I stood in front of the expanse of wall that yet another informant (a fourth-year Slytherin girl who apparently fancied Sirius a great deal, and who was also our supplier of her common-room password) had attested to being the entrance to the Slytherin House dorms.

I went over my lines quickly one more time in my head, and decided I felt confident that I had them down to at least a lower-case 't'.

"Adderstongue," I whispered, not entirely sure why I was whispering.

The wall immediately slid open, though, and I cleared my throat before stepping inside.

Cor. Talk about a verdant obsession.

I kept on walking so that nobody got suspicious when I stood there and goggled, but my eyes were whipping back and forth, searching out Snape's greasy head.

"Cissy, darling, there you are. How was your test, then?"

I stepped slowly around a group of chairs by the nearest hearth, trying my best to look at home, starting to get a bit worried when I couldn't see Snape anywhere.

"Narcissa! Where are you going?"

Bugger it. What if he wasn't here? That would rather defeat the entire purpose of my being in here at all. Why hadn't James thought to check where Snape even was before throwing me into the lion's d—er, snake pit?

"Narcissa Black!"

Someone's hand closed around my elbow and I spun round, nearly dying of shock when I saw… Sirius?

"What are you doing here?" I hissed, glancing around to see if anyone else had noticed him.

His brows drew slowly together in bewilderment, and I noticed too late the subtle differences in his face, the way he held himself, the colour of his eyes—these were such a dark, deep grey, the shade was nearly black.

And I abruptly realised exactly who I was standing face-to-face with.

Regulus Black looked so much like his elder brother, it was alarming; and yet I imagined I'd have zero difficulty telling the two of them apart, were they to stand side-by-side. I had never spoken to Regulus before—Sirius had made it clear a long time ago he didn't want me to have anything to do with his younger brother and because I knew so little about the situation, I'd chosen to respect his wishes—and the most contact I'd ever had with him were the rare times he and Sirius acknowledged the other's existence long enough to insult and ridicule the cool indifference out of one another.

Fists, Sirius had always said, were much too personal.

I gaped dimly at Regulus for what seemed like ages, feeling irrationally terrified—what was so wrong with him to make his own brother hate him so much?—when finally he reached out, flicked me lightly on the end of the nose and said, "Are you in there? Or has Narcissa gone on holiday?"

I blinked. "Erm… hi."

He cocked a brow, but grinned—ohgodohgod, he looked so much like Sirius!—and replied, "Good to have you back with us on earth, Cissy. How did your test go?"

"Er… it was… fine."

"Glad to hear it. Come help us with our Charms homework, will you, we haven't got a clue without you," he said, gesturing to the small group of people sitting around the hearth I'd just passed. One girl looked worried, while a blond-haired boy just waggled his eyebrows at me.

"Charms?" I parroted, feeling very not smart.

"Well, yeah. It's your best subject, and I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing just now."

Oh, this was just too ironic. Also slightly surreal. And I had a sudden craving for powdered-sugar doughnuts.

"Are you all right?" the worried girl inquired. "You don't seem yourself, Cissy."

I pulled myself together then. I'd seen and heard enough about Narcissa Black's… "mannerisms" to realize I was completely blowing this.

I raised my nose, resting my hands lightly on my hips, and struck a pose. "Of course I'm all right. I was merely preoccupied with my test results. Where is Severus?"

Short and to the point. Not bad, darling.

Surprisingly, they seemed to know precisely who I was referring to. I'd been under the impression that Snape was an evil git with no friends; but, I supposed, birds of a feather, and so on.

Regulus, while lowering himself into a carved, green-velvet wingchair and picking back up his Charms textbook—urgh, how I had loathed that thing when I'd been in fifth year—said absently, with a slight wrinkling of his nose, "Uhh… I think he said he was going to settle in for the night—you told me he's not been sleeping well these past few nights, right?"

I nodded in what I hoped was a sympathetic manner (even as I felt a sort of hot, vindictive pleasure to hear that Snape was suffering, entirely without our help—good of him to get the job done himself, I thought) and said, "Yes, I remember. But do you think he'd mind terribly if I spoke to him for a short while? It is rather important."

Regulus lifted a brow, regarding me with a look that said plainly, "Do I have to?" but rose from his chair nevertheless and said, "Yeah, sure, I'll fetch him for you."

Relieved, I settled in his vacated wingchair when he disappeared behind what I assumed to be the door to the boys' dormitories, and gazed around at my "fellow" fifth years.

"So," I said, smiling around at them. "Gryffindor won at Quidditch, eh?"

"What is this about Narcissa? Are you sure you're quite all right?"

I sent a lustful glance at a housecoat-clad Snape—tried not to vomit on his slippers—and assured him breathily, "Oh… I'm perfect," then added pointedly, "…now."

He stared at me, but I took hold of his wrist—erlack, erlack!—and pulled him further down the third-floor corridor, saying, "We're nearly there, Severus. I really am sorry to be such a bother." I let my fingers slip higher under his sleeve, praying inwardly that he wasn't hiding anything disgusting—apart from his arm, I meant—up there.

"Not… er, not at all, Narcissa."

One staircase, far too many seductive glances and coy phrases, and a lightning-quick arse pinch (for which I'd never forgive myself) later, we had finally reached our destination.

"In here," I whispered, glancing clandestinely down either end of the corridor. "I made sure it was deserted, so that we wouldn't be… interrupted."

Snape looked at me like I'd lost a few marbles—more than a few, I felt like correcting him—but then I recalled some of his comments earlier today on the Quidditch pitch, the way he'd physically assaulted Aubrey and then called her that foul name…

This was for Aubrey, I reminded myself, whom he'd humiliated utterly—and for whom he would now get a taste of his own poison.

"Come on," I said, sliding my hand up to his shoulder—gripping rather harder than necessary, but he might just take that for badly suppressed passion—and pulling him inside the empty classroom.

I shut the door firmly behind me, leaning against it and giving him a look of deepest longing.

Some of my anger must have been shining through, or else James' suspicions were confirmed and Snape really did bat for the other side, because he took a wary step back when I slowly came forward, swinging my hips and running my tongue along my new, strange-feeling upper lip.

"You know I've always wanted you, Severus," I purred, in my borrowed voice. "Madly. All I could think about today, while watching Gryffindor triumph ridiculously over Ravenclaw, was getting you here, tonight. Alone. Like this."

His back hit the wall and, unable to back up any further, he began to slide along it carefully, headed for the door.

I reached him, blocking his path by placing my hands on his bony chest—o! shudder, o! cringe—and stepping close. Too close. My God, what was so bloody difficult for this boy about understanding the concept of soap?

I resisted the urge to be sick all down his front and, with a sweet smile (which came off feeling rather psychotic), breathed, "You want me too, don't you, Severus?"

And quite abruptly, I found myself attached to Severus Snape's mouth, pushed up against the wall and trapped between it and his body.

Oh. Oh my God. Gross.

Well, best get on with it, then.

I broke the kiss, trying not to act like I really, really wanted to cut out my own tongue, my voice throaty from arousal—well, really it was from my own devastation at the knowledge that I'd never be clean again—and gasped, as planned, "Severus, we should use protection—"

His eyes widened, but he nodded, licking his lips—oh, if only he knew he was kissing a Mudblood, the slimy bigoted arse-wipe—and watched as I drew my wand from my stocking.

I sent a slow, ironic smile up at him, then said, with calm propriety, "Stupefy."

He went down like a stone, just as the real Narcissa had done, and I looked down with warm pride at the result of my perfectly executed Stunning Charm.

In your freckled face, Lily Evans.

The closet door at the back of the room swung open, revealing Peter and a perturbed-looking James, while a scant five feet away from where I stood, Sirius whipped the Invisibility Cloak off himself and Remus, his face a storm cloud of fury.

He opened his mouth, but before he could get a word out—and thank God for small miracles—I sailed past, snatching up the Cloak, and announced breezily, "Well, I think that went well. I'll let you lot take it from here. Au revoir and good bye."

And then I went off to rub myself with salt and boil my clothes. In turpentine.

An hour later, as I was hiding up in the seventh year boys' dorm (having snuck up there under the cover of James' Cloak—I was still very much a Narcissa clone, after all), following a systematic oral decontamination involving James' mouthwash potion and Sirius' toothbrush—I'd buy him a new one, I swore I would—I waited rather anxiously for the return of the lads to see if everything had gone all right.

When the door did finally open, it was Sirius who stepped inside, and he was alone.

"Did it go okay? Were the others caught?" I demanded, leaping up from my perch on his bed, and letting the Cloak fall to the floor.

He jumped at my sudden appearance, then deflated with relief when he realized it was just me.

"Jesus, you gave me a start." He crossed the room and went to light his bedside lamp. "The others are fine, they're with Tom Ralston—the bloke who lent us the camera—getting the film developed. But I wanted to get you alone, anyway."

"What for?" I inquired, choosing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"To be the first to see you be you again, for one," he said, then waved his wand while muttering a complicated reversal spell, and I felt the warm tingling all over my body, eyeballs included.

"It'll take another incantation for your clothes, but—oh, thank Merlin, they're back!"

To my amused astonishment, he fell to his knees in front of me, wrapping his arms around my waist and burrowing his face between my—my—breasts.

I giggled, reaching up to feel my hair and face—which were thankfully back to normal—then let my hand fall to the back of his head, dragging my fingernails slowly across his scalp.

He shivered and tilted his head back into my hand, gasping, "Do that again."

I obliged, and his eyes slid shut, his lips parting as I felt goose bumps rise on the sensitive flesh at the nape of his neck.

His arms around me tightened, while his head rested against my front again. I sighed, liking very much the feel of warmth and security his embrace gave me.

"I can't believe I helped you seduce Snivellus," said his muffled voice, as his fingers came up to trail the curve of my breast revealed by the pair of undone shirt buttons.

I laughed, even as my own eyes slid shut at the feel of his fingertips on my bare skin. They popped open, however, when I felt him begin to undo the rest of the buttons. With his teeth.

I slipped both hands into his long dark hair, fisting them lightly with a moan as my shirt fell open and his tongue flicked my bare nipple—bare, because I'd taken off my bra earlier, as Narcissa's slender form didn't quite fill it and it had seemed rather unnecessary.

"…can't believe I had to stand there and watch him snog you…" he went on, scraping his teeth gently over the hardened peak and causing me to slump slightly to the floor as my knees threatened to give out altogether at the hot rush of sensation that shot down the backs of my thighs. His arms were the only things holding me up. I'd had boys touch me there before, but never like this… and it had never felt like this.

"You do what you have to." My voice was oddly breathy and low. I smiled, and went on teasingly, even as he took my nipple into his hot mouth and a gasp issued forth from between my lips, "Maybe I liked it."

He froze, and then abruptly the cold air rushed to meet my dampened skin as I stumbled back at the sudden loss of support.

"What're you—"

He'd gotten to his feet and gone over to the window, pushing open the glass pane and swinging a leg over the sill into the falling rain. The fresh smell of ozone seeped in, bringing a damp chill with it.

"The hell are you doing?" I demanded, gaping at this spectacle, unmindful of the fact that my shirt was still hanging wide open and, more important, that it was bloody freezing.

"Throwing myself out the window. I've no longer anything to live for. All my hopes and dreams crushed into meaningless dust…"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, do shut up." I grabbed him, yanking him back inside, and we both fell, laughing, onto the bed—Sirius hitting his head rather sharply on a bed post, but it was nevertheless very romantic.

"Tia?"

"Nnngh."

"Can I…?"

"Can you what?"

"Well… this."

"Unnh… oh… um, yes, all right."