Dude Looks Like A Lady

Written for my friend Zero on Caesar's Palace

Merry Christmas, Zero!

Narcissa knew the stress was getting to him, and that Lucius had been drinking more often in an attempt to calm his nerves. But the glass off wine he had with dinner soon turned into three or four, and before long he was getting drunk during Death Eater meetings, which was quite a sight when he started laughing for no apparent reason and slid right out of his chair.

The worst was when Lucius entered the drawing room during one of the meetings, wearing his wife's black bra and an emerald green skirt that went past his knees. The smell of alcohol was so strong you could smell it on him a mile away.

Heads turned as Lucius entered the room, and Narcissa's mouth hit the floor in shock.

"Lucius!" she exclaimed. "Why are you wearing my clothes?" She then looked down and noticed that he was also wearing a pair of her high heels.

"You know what, Narcissa?" said Lucius, a simpering smile on his face as he fingered the lace on his wife's bra. "Ever since getting a bra with like five square inches of lace total on the whole thing, I feel infinitely smoother. I mean it's composed of more than five inches of lace. It is sufficient in size. It just has that much lace on it as a component."

Narcissa groaned, leaning forward in her seat with her head in her hands. Bellatrix snorted, Severus raised an eyebrow as he watched Lucius fondling the lace on the bra, and Yaxley almost dropped his wine glass.

"It's like...nice...classy flower...nice," Lucius continued, his speech slurred and his eyes half closed. He hiccupped and swayed, gripping the arm of the chair to keep from falling over.

Narcissa stood up and walked over to her husband, taking him by the arm as she led him out of the room, her sister laughing as she watched Lucius stumbling past in his wife's high heels.

"Perhaps I should consider clothing made from organic materials," Lucius muttered. "What do you think, dear? Maybe something like okra. Fried okra bra, okra chip bra, okra plant bra..."

"That's nice, dear," said Narcissa, patting her husband on the shoulder. "But right now I think you should go to bed and lay down for a while."

"I'm a classy flower."

"Yes, dear. I know."