Challenge #18: Polyjuice
Title: Reconnaissance
Rating: G
Characters: Lucius & Narcissa, among others
A/N: Somewhere around 40 minutes, but far too long for spell-check and editing.
* * * * *"There y'are, missus. Jus' you call on ol' Jim if'n he gives ya any whatfor."
She inclined her stately head towards the dirty, leering guard as he pushed the key into the tarnished bolt. "Thank you, I shall," she said, a brow arching high on her smooth, pale forehead. Jim pulled open the heavy cell door, and she took a deep breath before stepping inside. It closed behind her with an ominous clang.
While her vision slowly adapted to the darkness within the cell, her sense of smell seemed to sharpen considerably. The small space stank of spoilt food, unwashed bodies, and human waste; she felt her stomach churn, and was thankful that she had declined tea on the ship.
She spotted him quickly once her eyesight had properly adjusted, and she took a step forward, lowering the hood of her cloak as she went to reveal her fine golden head.
Back pressed against the cool wall, he sat on a molding pile of straw with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. His fine clothing had been replaced with tattered gray material, crudely fitted together to form an ill-fitting outfit, and his once-impeccable hair hung in limp, greasy strands about his face.
When he took no notice of her presence, she nudged his leg with the toe of her leather boot, and spoke his name. Her voice shot out and reverberated against the cold stone walls.
"Lucius."
His head shot up, and he stared at her in bewilderment. "How - what - you -" he sputtered, and then suddenly he was on his feet, bearing down on her. It was incredible how quickly he had masked any vulnerability behind a shield of arrogant distemper. "What took you so damned long, Narcissa?"
"You know they don't allow prisoners of your status very many liberties anymore, my dear," Narcissa replied lightly, reaching forward to brush her fingertips over the scraggly beard that had begun to form on his chin. "I had to call in all of my favors just for ten minutes with you. My, but we do look worse for the wear, don't we?"
Lucius caught her wrist in a bone-crushing grip and twisted her arm behind her back, pulling her roughly against his chest. "Well?" he demanded, eyes boring into her.
His breath was hot on her face, and Narcissa breathed through her mouth, determined not to inhale the sickly sweet stench of it. Tilting her head, she brought her lips to his, kissing him chastely before pulling away.
"Narcissa, is that any way to greet your husband?" He considered her for a moment through slitted eyes; then, quick as a flash, he swung a hand backwards across her face with a resounding smack. Before she could respond, his hands were groping at her body and his lips were pressed against hers again, tongue wresting its way into the heat of her mouth.
Once satisfied, he retreated to the narrow strip of window, arms clasped behind his back. "How fares the boy?"
"Your son was involved in a fight on the train home." She scowled at her husband's back, pressing a hand to her bruising cheek. "With Harry Potter."
"Never fear, love. The Dark Lord will rid the world of that meddlesome half-blood brat soon enough. And the manor?"
Brow creasing in consternation, her hands slipped to her hips and her pale eyes flashed. "The manor is no longer as you know it," Narcissa snapped. "They were knocking at the door before the ink on your sentencing papers had even dried. Ministry workers and Aurors swarming the place - it's an outrage!"
"Have they found anything?" Lucius asked quietly, turning to gaze at her.
"You know they have." She stared back at him, her face full of scorn and resentment. "Tell me, Lucius, is there anything more? Anything to bring further cause for embarrassment to our family? Or to the Dark Lord, more importantly?"
Arms crossed, Narcissa watched the doubt creep into her husband's eyes, and saw the moment of decision. "The fourth stall on the left in the stables. Six meters down, beneath the earthen layer, there is a passage. It winds for a kilometer to the south. Enlist Carrows and Yaxley ... or perhaps your sister ..."
* * * * *
She could feel Lucius' eyes following every step she took back to the waiting ship. They discomfited her more so than the icy wind that ripped at her skirts and the stinging drops of seawater that bounced off the black rocks and soaked through her cloak.
It was a relief to gain the gangplank and feel the solid wooden deck beneath her once more. "I am going below deck and do not wish to be disturbed," she said sternly to the crew. "Is that perfectly clear?" She waited only a moment for the nods and grunts before moving down the stairs to the cabin below deck.
Once inside, she closed the door to the cabin behind her and leaned her forehead against the wooden frame. She had not expected the time to be so exhausting, and wanted a moment's rest.
"You're soaking wet."
Sliding her eyes open with a sigh, she nodded and quickly divested herself of her heavy cloak. Draping it over the back of a chair, she placed her hands on her hips and faced the other occupant of the cabin. "I see you haven't been up on deck as of late. It's raining."
"No, I have not been up on deck lately. I didn't see cause for it." Severus unfolded himself from where he sat and crossed the small room, his step faltering slightly as the boat tilted in the rough seas. Cupping her chin in his palm, he studied the purpling bruise spreading on her cheek. "Did he -"
"Consequences of the character," she murmured, circling his neck with her arms.
But when her lips brushed against his, he pulled away sharply and glared at her. "No. Not until you are back."
Eyebrows arched high in surprise against the porcelain forehead before the eyes beneath them creased in approved amusement. With a nod, she pushed away from him. "In that case, I'd like to loosen the restraints on this damned dress for a bit. I don’t know how she can wear such a thing … Where is Nymphadora, by the way?"
"Right here." The cabin door clicked open and a lanky, dripping wet man stepped through. He made sure the door was locked again before transforming into the young woman with bubble-gum pink hair. Her lips twitched into an amused smirk. "Wotcher, Auntie. Find anything out?"
"Yes, I -" She gasped and reached to steady herself against the wall, clutching at her side. Fair blonde hair lengthened and grew dark as night; pale eyes were clouded by a bottle green haze; body heightened, grew fuller. And all in less than one minute, Narcissa Malfoy melted away to be replaced with Minerva McGonagall.
“Hour’s up,” Tonks grinned cheekily.
Minerva glanced up from struggling to loosen her corset ties. “How very astute of you,” she gasped, giving up in the end and splicing the binding open with a simple severing charm. “Nymphadora, you mentioned dinner at the Weasley’s this evening - can I leave it to you to inform Molly that her husband is going to be on raid duty a while longer?”
The young witch nodded, and then glanced out the portal window. “Looks like we’ll be docking soon. I’d better be getting back up to sailor duty.”
As she disappeared through the door, Severus silently slipped a vial of murky Polyjuice into Minerva’s hand. She looked at it for a moment before lifting her gaze to him, an eyebrow raised and lips pursed. He smirked and pressed a chaste kiss to them. “Well done. Your first reconnaissance mission in human form … admittedly, not your own, but still mercifully lacking in hairballs …”
* * * * *
I seem to be having a lot of trouble in finding inspiration from characters other than Minerva and Severus lately ... apologies.
Rating: G
Characters: Lucius & Narcissa, among others
A/N: Somewhere around 40 minutes, but far too long for spell-check and editing.
* * * * *"There y'are, missus. Jus' you call on ol' Jim if'n he gives ya any whatfor."
She inclined her stately head towards the dirty, leering guard as he pushed the key into the tarnished bolt. "Thank you, I shall," she said, a brow arching high on her smooth, pale forehead. Jim pulled open the heavy cell door, and she took a deep breath before stepping inside. It closed behind her with an ominous clang.
While her vision slowly adapted to the darkness within the cell, her sense of smell seemed to sharpen considerably. The small space stank of spoilt food, unwashed bodies, and human waste; she felt her stomach churn, and was thankful that she had declined tea on the ship.
She spotted him quickly once her eyesight had properly adjusted, and she took a step forward, lowering the hood of her cloak as she went to reveal her fine golden head.
Back pressed against the cool wall, he sat on a molding pile of straw with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. His fine clothing had been replaced with tattered gray material, crudely fitted together to form an ill-fitting outfit, and his once-impeccable hair hung in limp, greasy strands about his face.
When he took no notice of her presence, she nudged his leg with the toe of her leather boot, and spoke his name. Her voice shot out and reverberated against the cold stone walls.
"Lucius."
His head shot up, and he stared at her in bewilderment. "How - what - you -" he sputtered, and then suddenly he was on his feet, bearing down on her. It was incredible how quickly he had masked any vulnerability behind a shield of arrogant distemper. "What took you so damned long, Narcissa?"
"You know they don't allow prisoners of your status very many liberties anymore, my dear," Narcissa replied lightly, reaching forward to brush her fingertips over the scraggly beard that had begun to form on his chin. "I had to call in all of my favors just for ten minutes with you. My, but we do look worse for the wear, don't we?"
Lucius caught her wrist in a bone-crushing grip and twisted her arm behind her back, pulling her roughly against his chest. "Well?" he demanded, eyes boring into her.
His breath was hot on her face, and Narcissa breathed through her mouth, determined not to inhale the sickly sweet stench of it. Tilting her head, she brought her lips to his, kissing him chastely before pulling away.
"Narcissa, is that any way to greet your husband?" He considered her for a moment through slitted eyes; then, quick as a flash, he swung a hand backwards across her face with a resounding smack. Before she could respond, his hands were groping at her body and his lips were pressed against hers again, tongue wresting its way into the heat of her mouth.
Once satisfied, he retreated to the narrow strip of window, arms clasped behind his back. "How fares the boy?"
"Your son was involved in a fight on the train home." She scowled at her husband's back, pressing a hand to her bruising cheek. "With Harry Potter."
"Never fear, love. The Dark Lord will rid the world of that meddlesome half-blood brat soon enough. And the manor?"
Brow creasing in consternation, her hands slipped to her hips and her pale eyes flashed. "The manor is no longer as you know it," Narcissa snapped. "They were knocking at the door before the ink on your sentencing papers had even dried. Ministry workers and Aurors swarming the place - it's an outrage!"
"Have they found anything?" Lucius asked quietly, turning to gaze at her.
"You know they have." She stared back at him, her face full of scorn and resentment. "Tell me, Lucius, is there anything more? Anything to bring further cause for embarrassment to our family? Or to the Dark Lord, more importantly?"
Arms crossed, Narcissa watched the doubt creep into her husband's eyes, and saw the moment of decision. "The fourth stall on the left in the stables. Six meters down, beneath the earthen layer, there is a passage. It winds for a kilometer to the south. Enlist Carrows and Yaxley ... or perhaps your sister ..."
* * * * *
She could feel Lucius' eyes following every step she took back to the waiting ship. They discomfited her more so than the icy wind that ripped at her skirts and the stinging drops of seawater that bounced off the black rocks and soaked through her cloak.
It was a relief to gain the gangplank and feel the solid wooden deck beneath her once more. "I am going below deck and do not wish to be disturbed," she said sternly to the crew. "Is that perfectly clear?" She waited only a moment for the nods and grunts before moving down the stairs to the cabin below deck.
Once inside, she closed the door to the cabin behind her and leaned her forehead against the wooden frame. She had not expected the time to be so exhausting, and wanted a moment's rest.
"You're soaking wet."
Sliding her eyes open with a sigh, she nodded and quickly divested herself of her heavy cloak. Draping it over the back of a chair, she placed her hands on her hips and faced the other occupant of the cabin. "I see you haven't been up on deck as of late. It's raining."
"No, I have not been up on deck lately. I didn't see cause for it." Severus unfolded himself from where he sat and crossed the small room, his step faltering slightly as the boat tilted in the rough seas. Cupping her chin in his palm, he studied the purpling bruise spreading on her cheek. "Did he -"
"Consequences of the character," she murmured, circling his neck with her arms.
But when her lips brushed against his, he pulled away sharply and glared at her. "No. Not until you are back."
Eyebrows arched high in surprise against the porcelain forehead before the eyes beneath them creased in approved amusement. With a nod, she pushed away from him. "In that case, I'd like to loosen the restraints on this damned dress for a bit. I don’t know how she can wear such a thing … Where is Nymphadora, by the way?"
"Right here." The cabin door clicked open and a lanky, dripping wet man stepped through. He made sure the door was locked again before transforming into the young woman with bubble-gum pink hair. Her lips twitched into an amused smirk. "Wotcher, Auntie. Find anything out?"
"Yes, I -" She gasped and reached to steady herself against the wall, clutching at her side. Fair blonde hair lengthened and grew dark as night; pale eyes were clouded by a bottle green haze; body heightened, grew fuller. And all in less than one minute, Narcissa Malfoy melted away to be replaced with Minerva McGonagall.
“Hour’s up,” Tonks grinned cheekily.
Minerva glanced up from struggling to loosen her corset ties. “How very astute of you,” she gasped, giving up in the end and splicing the binding open with a simple severing charm. “Nymphadora, you mentioned dinner at the Weasley’s this evening - can I leave it to you to inform Molly that her husband is going to be on raid duty a while longer?”
The young witch nodded, and then glanced out the portal window. “Looks like we’ll be docking soon. I’d better be getting back up to sailor duty.”
As she disappeared through the door, Severus silently slipped a vial of murky Polyjuice into Minerva’s hand. She looked at it for a moment before lifting her gaze to him, an eyebrow raised and lips pursed. He smirked and pressed a chaste kiss to them. “Well done. Your first reconnaissance mission in human form … admittedly, not your own, but still mercifully lacking in hairballs …”
* * * * *
I seem to be having a lot of trouble in finding inspiration from characters other than Minerva and Severus lately ... apologies.