FIC: "Queen of the World" for redcandle17
Recipient: redcandle17
Author/Artist: ???
Title: Queen of the World
Rating: PG
Pairings: Millicent Bulstrode/Blaise Zabini
Word Count: ~1,900
Medium: Fic
Warnings/Content Information (Highlight to View): *None *.
Summary: Millicent Bulstrode's a princess for the night. Too bad her prince is more of a peasant.
Author's/Artist's Notes: Inspired by the fairy tale "Cinderella". Beta-ed by K.
Millicent Bulstrode wants to be/A beautiful princess, too./But that's not all she wants and wishes/She also desires you.
Millicent wasn't paying attention in class, as per usual. Like she'd done for the past seven or so years, she was staring at Blaise Zabini. Blaise Zabini! Slytherin's dark prince. With his leather-covered legs and misty dark eyes hiding years of tragedy. Draco had been sulking ever since the War had ended, but not Blaise. He'd just brushed it off and continued being the beautiful man he was. Gorgeous, Millicent thought. Absolutely gorgeous. A fine specimen of a man.
But this time, unlike every other time she'd fantasized about him, Millicent had a plan. Headmistress McGonagall had decided to have a ball, in celebration of You-Know-Who's defeat. It was going to be gorgeous and elaborate. Even students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were going to come. There would be music, and slow-dancing, and perhaps a passionate snog or two. It would be easy enough to disguise herself as a foreign student and snag a dance--or more--with Blaise. Millicent's Aunt Enid ran an apothecary, and she was fond of Millicent. Procuring the necessary potions wouldn't be hard, all except for the love potions. Love potions were severely restricted in Britain, and she didn't need the Ministry to question her again. They'd interrogated every Slytherin for Death Eater involvement after the war, and she'd only barely squeaked past. I'll have to do without it, she thought.
A few discreet owls and a week or so later, and the potions and the clothing were stowed safely inside her trunk.
/////\\\\\
Millicent scowled as she stared at Pansy's piece of Charms homework, silently damning Pansy for making her do her homework, and damning herself for accepting it. Millicent didn't even know why she did Pansy's homework for her. Something about her--her casual cruelty, perhaps, or her smug prissiness--something always made Millicent give in. She'd been doing her homework regularly ever since second year, and she supposed that the two of them were too used to it to buck their system now.
Millicent looked at the clock. Seven-forty. The dance started at eight, and Pansy's parchment was still completely blank. She'd have to hurry if she wanted to have enough time to get to the dance.
"Millicent!" Pansy said. She had just finished changing. Her dress was very low-cut, Millicent noted with disapproval. "Are you done yet?"
"No," she said.
"Hurry up," Pansy said. "We need to get to the dance soon, Millicent. I have a date with Blaise." She tittered.
Liar! Millicent thought. She was lying. Millicent refused to believe it. Her Blaise--her beautiful, charming Blaise--he wouldn't hook up with this girl. He wouldn't.
"I thought you were dating Draco," Millicent said.
"Oh, about that," Pansy said airily. "I broke up with him." Slag, Millicent thought furiously.
Millicent glanced at the clock. "I'll get your homework done by tomorrow, Pansy," she said.
"See that you do," she sniffed. She walked towards the door. "Good night." The door closed with a bang.
/////\\\\\
Millicent sprinted up to the girls' dormitory the second Pansy was gone. Her trunk was there, hidden safely with a Disillusionment Charm so only she could see it. She pulled it open with shaking fingers. There it was! Three beautiful, beautiful potions, nesting in a little box. She stripped off her robes and gently held up the first one. It was ruby-red, like claret. Unlabeled. She squeezed her eyes shut and downed it in one gulp.
She could feel the effects immediately. A second of boiling pain, like molten lead had been poured onto her skin. But her gasp of pain had barely escaped her gritted teeth when the sensation was gone.
She groped for the second potion, her eyes still clenched shut. This one tasted sweet and thick, like honey. Fortunately, the effects of this potion were less severe. Her skin prickled for a few seconds, and that was all.
The third potion tasted like water, and she swallowed it down quickly. She brought out her wand from her pocket. "Accio mirror," she said clearly. It landed in her palm. She set it in front of her face, and she opened her eyes.
She gasped. Was this--was this her? It couldn't be. Surely not. She looked almost completely different. Like an exotic Spanish princess, or a French madame--somewhere far away with thick accents and beauty marks. Her face had slimmed down, pushing up the bones of her face and creating hollows in her cheeks. Her nose was free of blackheads for once, though it was still too flat for her liking; but she supposed magic couldn't fix everything. Her hair was walnut-brown, and it waved gently down her back in glossy ringlets. And her eyes were wide, and dark with anticipation. She looked like herself--if she squinted. A beautiful herself.
She stripped off her loose black robes and pulled on her dress robes. Blue velvet, with silver embroidery. She admired herself in the mirror for a second before slipping on black shoes and a gold necklace she'd found in the bottom of her trunk. It was seven fifty-four. Time to go. The potions would wear off by twelve, and she needed to dance with Blaise before then.
/////\\\\\
The Great Hall was crowded when she got there, and for a moment she feared she wouldn't be able to find Blaise. But fortunately, this proved untrue. Her beautiful Blaise was by the refreshments table, watching the dancing couples with sophisticated ennui.
She walked toward him slowly, the crowds of people parting around her, until she was by his side--where she belonged. "Hello," she said shyly.
He looked at her, and Millicent had to suppress a shiver. "Hello," he replied. "You aren't a Hogwarts student, are you?"
She tittered. "Maybe." His cluelessness was endearing.
"You're far too beautiful for me to miss. I would have remembered you if I'd seen you before," he said, winking.
She flushed. "You flatter me."
"Surely not," he said. "Do you wish to dance?"
And they did. They didn't talk much for the rest of the night--staring into each others' eyes and dancing were far more pleasurable than attempting to make conversation, which quickly became awkward and stilted.
The last words they spoke were late at night.
"That's a beautiful necklace you have," he noted. He reached up to grasp it in his long, slender fingers.
Millicent preened. "Thank you," she said.
He didn't let go. "Is it goblin-made?" he asked, turning it over to inspect it.
"Yes, it is," Millicent said. "It's been in my family for years and years. Real gold and gemstones, too." She didn't know if this was true, but she'd think about that later.
He swallowed. "That's amazing. Really great. You know ... I feel a special connection to you. I feel like we're soul mates."
Yes! Yes! Yes!
"I feel it, too," she whispered.
"Wow," he breathed softly. "We should really get to know each other more."
"We should," she murmured. She'd done it. He'd fallen in love with her, no love potion needed.
His thumb brushed against the gold in gentle circles, and his eyes gleamed in the candlelight. His head bent closer to her. This is it! Millicent thought. He's going to kiss me! Her lips slightly parted. Kiss me, she thought. Please.
The clock began to toll, and miserably, Millicent could feel the effects of the potions fading. Her face began to swell into its customary roundness. Her limbs began to thicken. "I have to go!" Millicent yelled. But he wouldn't let go of her necklace. With a crunch, she'd broken free. The crushed necklace was still clutched in his hand.
"No! Wait!" he cried. "I don't even know your name!"
She bent close to his ear. "My name," she whispered, "is Millicent."
And she was gone.
/////\\\\\
"Millicent!" Pansy snapped. She kicked the lump lying under the covers. "Millicent, wake up."
"What?"
"It's Blaise. He wants to talk to you."
"Blaise?"
"That's what I said, isn't it?" she snapped. "Get up, Millicent. He wants to talk to you. Right now, he says."
"Oh, God," Millicent moaned. "Oh God, oh god, oh god." She staggered out of bed, down the stairs. She was sure she looked horrid, but Blaise needed to talk to her. They were soul mates, after all; he'd forgive her untidiness. Though she needed to brush her teeth.
"Millicent," said Blaise. And oh, it was just so bloody unfair. Blaise looked perfect, like he always did. She felt more and more like a cow in comparison.
"Blaise," she replied. She was glad her voice wasn't shaking.
"What did you do," he snapped.
"W-What? What do you mean, what did I do?"
"Who's Millicent? The Millicent I danced with. I already asked around Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, and there's no Millicent there. So the only Millicent I know is you." He stared at her coldly. "And what happened to her?"
"That--I--that was me," she whispered. Couldn't he see the woman he had danced with yesterday?
He recoiled back. "What do you mean?"
"I was her," she whispered. "I took potions, you know--and I danced with you." She pulled her necklace out of her pocket. She'd been sleeping with it throughout the night.
"You lied to me."
"How?" she said. "I still looked like me. If you just looked closer, you would have seen--"
"Oh, Millicent, for god's sake," he snarled.
"What?" she asked. "We could--you said we were soul mates. Can't we get to know each other better?"
"No." And he turned away, still holding the necklace tightly in his fist. "I was wrong. I felt nothing."
"Then give me back my necklace," she snapped. "It's mine. Give it back."
He looked at her. "I don't think so. It's mine now."
"What?" she screeched. "Give it back!" She lunged for the flash of gold gleaming in his hand.
He fended her off. "Real gold and jewels. Goblin-made. Do you know how much this is worth?" He looked at it speculatively.
"You--I--You--" Millicent blinked back tears. How could this have gone so wrong? So, so horribly wrong? "Fine, then," she said. "Have it. Just leave me alone."
He grinned, flashing his white teeth at her. "Thank you. I--"
Millicent turned and fled before she could hear what he had to say.
/////\\\\\
Millicent didn't look up when the door opened. "Go away," she snapped to the unknown intruder. Her tears had dried up long ago, but her eyes were still puffy and red.
"God, Millicent." It was Pansy. "You look awful."
"Go away."
She ignored her and sat on Millicent's bed. "So you two broke up, then?"
"What?" Millicent said. "Oh. How did you know?"
"I have my ways," she said airily. "Thank God, though. It was getting pathetic, really, seeing you hang around him like that."
"You're one to talk," said Millicent. "You were obsessed with him--"
She snorted. "No, I wasn't. I wouldn't date that worm if you paid me."
Millicent gaped at her. "But you--you said--"
Pansy gave Millicent a pitying look. "I did it for you," she said. "You don't know how hard I've been working all these years, trying to make you grow a spine." She sighed and stretched languorously. "You should thank me, really."
"So you--you were trying to help me?" Millicent snapped. "Then how come you made me do your homework for all these years?"
Pansy rolled her eyes. "I am a Slytherin, you know. I had to get something out of this."
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Author/Artist: ???
Title: Queen of the World
Rating: PG
Pairings: Millicent Bulstrode/Blaise Zabini
Word Count: ~1,900
Medium: Fic
Warnings/Content Information (Highlight to View): *None *.
Summary: Millicent Bulstrode's a princess for the night. Too bad her prince is more of a peasant.
Author's/Artist's Notes: Inspired by the fairy tale "Cinderella". Beta-ed by K.
Millicent Bulstrode wants to be/A beautiful princess, too./But that's not all she wants and wishes/She also desires you.
Millicent wasn't paying attention in class, as per usual. Like she'd done for the past seven or so years, she was staring at Blaise Zabini. Blaise Zabini! Slytherin's dark prince. With his leather-covered legs and misty dark eyes hiding years of tragedy. Draco had been sulking ever since the War had ended, but not Blaise. He'd just brushed it off and continued being the beautiful man he was. Gorgeous, Millicent thought. Absolutely gorgeous. A fine specimen of a man.
But this time, unlike every other time she'd fantasized about him, Millicent had a plan. Headmistress McGonagall had decided to have a ball, in celebration of You-Know-Who's defeat. It was going to be gorgeous and elaborate. Even students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were going to come. There would be music, and slow-dancing, and perhaps a passionate snog or two. It would be easy enough to disguise herself as a foreign student and snag a dance--or more--with Blaise. Millicent's Aunt Enid ran an apothecary, and she was fond of Millicent. Procuring the necessary potions wouldn't be hard, all except for the love potions. Love potions were severely restricted in Britain, and she didn't need the Ministry to question her again. They'd interrogated every Slytherin for Death Eater involvement after the war, and she'd only barely squeaked past. I'll have to do without it, she thought.
A few discreet owls and a week or so later, and the potions and the clothing were stowed safely inside her trunk.
/////\\\\\
Millicent scowled as she stared at Pansy's piece of Charms homework, silently damning Pansy for making her do her homework, and damning herself for accepting it. Millicent didn't even know why she did Pansy's homework for her. Something about her--her casual cruelty, perhaps, or her smug prissiness--something always made Millicent give in. She'd been doing her homework regularly ever since second year, and she supposed that the two of them were too used to it to buck their system now.
Millicent looked at the clock. Seven-forty. The dance started at eight, and Pansy's parchment was still completely blank. She'd have to hurry if she wanted to have enough time to get to the dance.
"Millicent!" Pansy said. She had just finished changing. Her dress was very low-cut, Millicent noted with disapproval. "Are you done yet?"
"No," she said.
"Hurry up," Pansy said. "We need to get to the dance soon, Millicent. I have a date with Blaise." She tittered.
Liar! Millicent thought. She was lying. Millicent refused to believe it. Her Blaise--her beautiful, charming Blaise--he wouldn't hook up with this girl. He wouldn't.
"I thought you were dating Draco," Millicent said.
"Oh, about that," Pansy said airily. "I broke up with him." Slag, Millicent thought furiously.
Millicent glanced at the clock. "I'll get your homework done by tomorrow, Pansy," she said.
"See that you do," she sniffed. She walked towards the door. "Good night." The door closed with a bang.
/////\\\\\
Millicent sprinted up to the girls' dormitory the second Pansy was gone. Her trunk was there, hidden safely with a Disillusionment Charm so only she could see it. She pulled it open with shaking fingers. There it was! Three beautiful, beautiful potions, nesting in a little box. She stripped off her robes and gently held up the first one. It was ruby-red, like claret. Unlabeled. She squeezed her eyes shut and downed it in one gulp.
She could feel the effects immediately. A second of boiling pain, like molten lead had been poured onto her skin. But her gasp of pain had barely escaped her gritted teeth when the sensation was gone.
She groped for the second potion, her eyes still clenched shut. This one tasted sweet and thick, like honey. Fortunately, the effects of this potion were less severe. Her skin prickled for a few seconds, and that was all.
The third potion tasted like water, and she swallowed it down quickly. She brought out her wand from her pocket. "Accio mirror," she said clearly. It landed in her palm. She set it in front of her face, and she opened her eyes.
She gasped. Was this--was this her? It couldn't be. Surely not. She looked almost completely different. Like an exotic Spanish princess, or a French madame--somewhere far away with thick accents and beauty marks. Her face had slimmed down, pushing up the bones of her face and creating hollows in her cheeks. Her nose was free of blackheads for once, though it was still too flat for her liking; but she supposed magic couldn't fix everything. Her hair was walnut-brown, and it waved gently down her back in glossy ringlets. And her eyes were wide, and dark with anticipation. She looked like herself--if she squinted. A beautiful herself.
She stripped off her loose black robes and pulled on her dress robes. Blue velvet, with silver embroidery. She admired herself in the mirror for a second before slipping on black shoes and a gold necklace she'd found in the bottom of her trunk. It was seven fifty-four. Time to go. The potions would wear off by twelve, and she needed to dance with Blaise before then.
/////\\\\\
The Great Hall was crowded when she got there, and for a moment she feared she wouldn't be able to find Blaise. But fortunately, this proved untrue. Her beautiful Blaise was by the refreshments table, watching the dancing couples with sophisticated ennui.
She walked toward him slowly, the crowds of people parting around her, until she was by his side--where she belonged. "Hello," she said shyly.
He looked at her, and Millicent had to suppress a shiver. "Hello," he replied. "You aren't a Hogwarts student, are you?"
She tittered. "Maybe." His cluelessness was endearing.
"You're far too beautiful for me to miss. I would have remembered you if I'd seen you before," he said, winking.
She flushed. "You flatter me."
"Surely not," he said. "Do you wish to dance?"
And they did. They didn't talk much for the rest of the night--staring into each others' eyes and dancing were far more pleasurable than attempting to make conversation, which quickly became awkward and stilted.
The last words they spoke were late at night.
"That's a beautiful necklace you have," he noted. He reached up to grasp it in his long, slender fingers.
Millicent preened. "Thank you," she said.
He didn't let go. "Is it goblin-made?" he asked, turning it over to inspect it.
"Yes, it is," Millicent said. "It's been in my family for years and years. Real gold and gemstones, too." She didn't know if this was true, but she'd think about that later.
He swallowed. "That's amazing. Really great. You know ... I feel a special connection to you. I feel like we're soul mates."
Yes! Yes! Yes!
"I feel it, too," she whispered.
"Wow," he breathed softly. "We should really get to know each other more."
"We should," she murmured. She'd done it. He'd fallen in love with her, no love potion needed.
His thumb brushed against the gold in gentle circles, and his eyes gleamed in the candlelight. His head bent closer to her. This is it! Millicent thought. He's going to kiss me! Her lips slightly parted. Kiss me, she thought. Please.
The clock began to toll, and miserably, Millicent could feel the effects of the potions fading. Her face began to swell into its customary roundness. Her limbs began to thicken. "I have to go!" Millicent yelled. But he wouldn't let go of her necklace. With a crunch, she'd broken free. The crushed necklace was still clutched in his hand.
"No! Wait!" he cried. "I don't even know your name!"
She bent close to his ear. "My name," she whispered, "is Millicent."
And she was gone.
/////\\\\\
"Millicent!" Pansy snapped. She kicked the lump lying under the covers. "Millicent, wake up."
"What?"
"It's Blaise. He wants to talk to you."
"Blaise?"
"That's what I said, isn't it?" she snapped. "Get up, Millicent. He wants to talk to you. Right now, he says."
"Oh, God," Millicent moaned. "Oh God, oh god, oh god." She staggered out of bed, down the stairs. She was sure she looked horrid, but Blaise needed to talk to her. They were soul mates, after all; he'd forgive her untidiness. Though she needed to brush her teeth.
"Millicent," said Blaise. And oh, it was just so bloody unfair. Blaise looked perfect, like he always did. She felt more and more like a cow in comparison.
"Blaise," she replied. She was glad her voice wasn't shaking.
"What did you do," he snapped.
"W-What? What do you mean, what did I do?"
"Who's Millicent? The Millicent I danced with. I already asked around Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, and there's no Millicent there. So the only Millicent I know is you." He stared at her coldly. "And what happened to her?"
"That--I--that was me," she whispered. Couldn't he see the woman he had danced with yesterday?
He recoiled back. "What do you mean?"
"I was her," she whispered. "I took potions, you know--and I danced with you." She pulled her necklace out of her pocket. She'd been sleeping with it throughout the night.
"You lied to me."
"How?" she said. "I still looked like me. If you just looked closer, you would have seen--"
"Oh, Millicent, for god's sake," he snarled.
"What?" she asked. "We could--you said we were soul mates. Can't we get to know each other better?"
"No." And he turned away, still holding the necklace tightly in his fist. "I was wrong. I felt nothing."
"Then give me back my necklace," she snapped. "It's mine. Give it back."
He looked at her. "I don't think so. It's mine now."
"What?" she screeched. "Give it back!" She lunged for the flash of gold gleaming in his hand.
He fended her off. "Real gold and jewels. Goblin-made. Do you know how much this is worth?" He looked at it speculatively.
"You--I--You--" Millicent blinked back tears. How could this have gone so wrong? So, so horribly wrong? "Fine, then," she said. "Have it. Just leave me alone."
He grinned, flashing his white teeth at her. "Thank you. I--"
Millicent turned and fled before she could hear what he had to say.
/////\\\\\
Millicent didn't look up when the door opened. "Go away," she snapped to the unknown intruder. Her tears had dried up long ago, but her eyes were still puffy and red.
"God, Millicent." It was Pansy. "You look awful."
"Go away."
She ignored her and sat on Millicent's bed. "So you two broke up, then?"
"What?" Millicent said. "Oh. How did you know?"
"I have my ways," she said airily. "Thank God, though. It was getting pathetic, really, seeing you hang around him like that."
"You're one to talk," said Millicent. "You were obsessed with him--"
She snorted. "No, I wasn't. I wouldn't date that worm if you paid me."
Millicent gaped at her. "But you--you said--"
Pansy gave Millicent a pitying look. "I did it for you," she said. "You don't know how hard I've been working all these years, trying to make you grow a spine." She sighed and stretched languorously. "You should thank me, really."
"So you--you were trying to help me?" Millicent snapped. "Then how come you made me do your homework for all these years?"
Pansy rolled her eyes. "I am a Slytherin, you know. I had to get something out of this."
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