Distractions (Harry Potter, Narcissa/Lily)
Title: Distractions
Author: gorynna
Recipient: jelly_belly99
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Narcissa/Lily
Rating: PG
Word count: 1600
Disclaimer: I own no rights to anything related to Harry Potter and I’m making no money off of this. All rights held by JKR and her licensees.
Summary: Narcissa seeks out likeminded company to take her mind off of life, but doesn’t get what she expects.
Author’s note: Big giant thanks to this_i_love for the fantastic last second read through :D
Paris, 1979
At the back of one of the many alleys of Paris, a witch of certain preferences could knock on an unembellished door. If she were clad correctly- strictly formal robes and a half mask- she would be admitted, and after checking her wand at the door, she would be directed through twisting corridors to an opulent lounge.
The slightly smoky air flickered with the light of candles and torches, casting a warm glow on the inhabitants. Masked witches mingled- some, new members, lurked in corners and alone on chairs, unsure of where to insert themselves in this strange, small world. Others gathered in groups, recognising each other by the masks they wore, chatting and laughing, occasionally running a hand down a companion’s shoulder or leaning over to whisper something in her ear. House-elves masterfully moved throughout the room, offering drinks to those who wanted them and keeping out of the way otherwise.
Narcissa Malfoy, recently Black, paused near the entrance of the lounge, surveying the scene around her and pondering the uncertainty of her plans for the evening. She wasn’t new to the club by any means, and had her pick of circles to socialise with, but her mood was more on edge than usual.
Lucius was constantly busy with the Death Eaters, serving the wishes of the Dark Lord and making the world more accommodating for true wizards and witches. The time he did not spend pursuing those endeavours was spent pursuing Narcissa. He wanted an heir- she didn’t mind, as she too longed for a child of her own to mould and shape as the desire drove her.
She did mind the frequency with which Lucius demanded she attend his bed. Even when she insisted that she was not at a time during which she could conceive, he smiled at her and said it always worth it for the slight chance. And whatever Narcissa had envisioned during her betrothal to Lucius, it hadn’t involved sharing a bed when there was only a slight chance of anything useful resulting from the circumstances.
Women had always been so much more attractive to her. The soft skin, silky hair, shapely legs- and other things equally pleasing but vulgar to discuss in public- all satisfied her sexual and emotional appetite more than anything any man could ever offer her. Of course it was important to her to marry a well-off, pure-blooded wizard, because that’s what one did, but she never thought that such an arrangement need get in the way of her own pursuits. It certainly never got in the way of Lucius’s.
Tonight, Narcissa decided, the pursuit was more important than the socialising aspect. A target already in mind, she waved to her acquaintances and made her way to one of the corners, where a redheaded witch in soft green dress robes was biting her lip and glancing around the room, watching all the others. One slightly tan hand grasped the other, and the telltale white shadow of a missing wedding band stood out on her ring finger.
She was exactly what Narcissa was looking for.
Gracefully, she settled herself down in the chair next to the woman, gesturing for a house-elf to bring her a drink. She put on a practised smile, half seductive and half gentle, and offered the drink to her chosen companion. “You needn’t be so nervous. After all, everyone here is very polite and looking for the same thing.”
The redhead half smiled in thanks and took a sip, before blurting out, “I don’t know what I’m looking for myself.”
“I understand,” said Narcissa, as she grabbed another glass from a passing elf. “It’s very brave to come here in the first place, but soon you’ll feel comfortable. Sometimes I feel as if it’s the world’s last place to escape.”
“That’s exactly it,” the witch said, nodding fervently. “The rest of the world doesn’t exist here, and I can be someone who I can’t be anywhere else.”
“And I’m sure you could be that someone with any witch in the room. You’re quite attractive, you know,” said Narcissa, looking up from her drink to meet incredibly green eyes. She held the witch’s gaze for a moment, and then quickly looked down at her lap, as if she were suddenly shy. “I apologise. That was quite forward of me, and as you said, you don’t know what you’re looking for tonight.”
Before the other witch had a chance to gather her thoughts and respond, Narcissa stood up, smiling once more. “I’ll leave you alone so you can do as you wish.”
“No, I, um- don’t go,” said the witch, quickly standing as well and placing a hand on Narcissa’s shoulder, running it down her arm. “I think I have some idea what I want. I just- I don’t know exactly what to... how do I...?”
“Perhaps we should go somewhere less crowded?” Narcissa suggested, tempering her face to look as non-threatening as possible. In her head, she smirked as she contemplated how easy this was. She had expected a bit more of a challenge, but she had no complaints, as the sooner she had this charming, naive young witch in a bed, the better.
“I’d like that.”
Narcissa whispered instructions to a house-elf, and they stole quietly out of the room, the redhead still gently holding Narcissa’s arm. They were led through more corridors to a small room, sparsely yet comfortably decorated with table and chairs and a magnificent four-poster bed. Narcissa locked the door- the manual locks always bothered her a bit, but it was a small price to pay- and sat on the edge of the bed, gesturing for her companion to sit next to her.
“Would you like to talk?” asked Narcissa, although she wanted nothing of the sort. Thankfully, the witch shook her head, tentatively touching Narcissa’s cheek with warm fingers.
“I think I’d like to kiss you.”
“Then kiss me.”
And she did. Lips as warm as her hands pressed to Narcissa’s, and after a moment of gentleness, she became as fierce as her red hair. In a brief moment of structured thought, Narcissa felt quite pleased that she had found such a seemingly talented bedfellow, before allowing herself to succumb to the sensations as the other witch pushed her back against the bed.
Now the redhead was caressing her over her robes, kissing and even nibbling at her mouth and jaw and neck, and Narcissa pushed her back for a moment. “I want to see your face,” she said, reaching up toward the other woman’s mask.
She frowned. “We’re not supposed to do that.”
Frustrated, Narcissa nearly snapped, but instead smiled and insisted, “It’s a private room, and we can do whatever we please.”
“Well...”
“Please?”
The plea worked, and the witch sat up, sitting for a moment to catch her breath before reaching around the back of her head to untie the ribbon that secured her mask. It fell down off her face, the material fluttering into her lap.
It was a huge mistake.
Narcissa felt chills course through her body, and immediately propelled herself out of the bed, backing towards the door. “Potter!” she spat.
Instantly, the soft features of Lily Potter hardened. “Who are you? How do you know me?”
Ignoring Lily’s questions, Narcissa fumbled with the lock behind her, muttering, “I can’t believe I nearly slept with a Mudblood.”
Incensed, Lily lunged at Narcissa, and before the blonde could so much as raise her arms in front of herself, Lily ripped off her mask and gasped.
“Narcissa Black.”
“Malfoy,” Narcissa corrected, rubbing at her temples. “It’s Malfoy now.”
“Even worse. Let me out of this damned room, now.”
Narcissa pulled her arms back from the lock and crossed them in front of her chest. “Not until you swear you won’t utter a word of this to anyone.”
“Does your sycophantic, murderous husband have any idea that you’re out picking up witches in your spare time?”
“No more than your juvenile blood traitor, I assume."
Lily opened her mouth, fury on her face as though she intended to yell or shout or something similarly crass, then shut it again. She mirrored Narcissa’s stance, crossing her arms, and finally said, “We both have an interest in keeping this quiet, but I don’t trust you.”
“Nor I you,” Narcissa replied, turning to unlock the door, and then stepping aside, gesturing at it. “You may leave. Now. Get out.”
Still storming, Lily marched toward the door and put her hand on the doorknob. Unexpectedly, she paused, turned to Narcissa, and abruptly kissed her again, hands tangled in blonde hair. It was intense and short, and without a word Lily pulled back, left the room, and slammed the door behind her.
Stunned, Narcissa considered, was perhaps an understatement; she didn’t quite know what she felt, and that was troubling in itself. She gathered her mask in her hands, and sat on the bed, clenching it between her fingers for a moment as she steadied her breathing and willed her confused thoughts away. It was merely a misaimed conquest, and she was all the better for it having been interrupted as soon as it was, she told herself.
She would simply have to refuse to be bothered by it.
Narcissa stood, steeling herself and replacing her mask, and exited the room with her head high in the air. After all, there was still much of the evening before her, and it wouldn’t do to go home and sit by herself in the cold, empty manor when there were distractions to be had.
Author: gorynna
Recipient: jelly_belly99
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Narcissa/Lily
Rating: PG
Word count: 1600
Disclaimer: I own no rights to anything related to Harry Potter and I’m making no money off of this. All rights held by JKR and her licensees.
Summary: Narcissa seeks out likeminded company to take her mind off of life, but doesn’t get what she expects.
Author’s note: Big giant thanks to this_i_love for the fantastic last second read through :D
Paris, 1979
At the back of one of the many alleys of Paris, a witch of certain preferences could knock on an unembellished door. If she were clad correctly- strictly formal robes and a half mask- she would be admitted, and after checking her wand at the door, she would be directed through twisting corridors to an opulent lounge.
The slightly smoky air flickered with the light of candles and torches, casting a warm glow on the inhabitants. Masked witches mingled- some, new members, lurked in corners and alone on chairs, unsure of where to insert themselves in this strange, small world. Others gathered in groups, recognising each other by the masks they wore, chatting and laughing, occasionally running a hand down a companion’s shoulder or leaning over to whisper something in her ear. House-elves masterfully moved throughout the room, offering drinks to those who wanted them and keeping out of the way otherwise.
Narcissa Malfoy, recently Black, paused near the entrance of the lounge, surveying the scene around her and pondering the uncertainty of her plans for the evening. She wasn’t new to the club by any means, and had her pick of circles to socialise with, but her mood was more on edge than usual.
Lucius was constantly busy with the Death Eaters, serving the wishes of the Dark Lord and making the world more accommodating for true wizards and witches. The time he did not spend pursuing those endeavours was spent pursuing Narcissa. He wanted an heir- she didn’t mind, as she too longed for a child of her own to mould and shape as the desire drove her.
She did mind the frequency with which Lucius demanded she attend his bed. Even when she insisted that she was not at a time during which she could conceive, he smiled at her and said it always worth it for the slight chance. And whatever Narcissa had envisioned during her betrothal to Lucius, it hadn’t involved sharing a bed when there was only a slight chance of anything useful resulting from the circumstances.
Women had always been so much more attractive to her. The soft skin, silky hair, shapely legs- and other things equally pleasing but vulgar to discuss in public- all satisfied her sexual and emotional appetite more than anything any man could ever offer her. Of course it was important to her to marry a well-off, pure-blooded wizard, because that’s what one did, but she never thought that such an arrangement need get in the way of her own pursuits. It certainly never got in the way of Lucius’s.
Tonight, Narcissa decided, the pursuit was more important than the socialising aspect. A target already in mind, she waved to her acquaintances and made her way to one of the corners, where a redheaded witch in soft green dress robes was biting her lip and glancing around the room, watching all the others. One slightly tan hand grasped the other, and the telltale white shadow of a missing wedding band stood out on her ring finger.
She was exactly what Narcissa was looking for.
Gracefully, she settled herself down in the chair next to the woman, gesturing for a house-elf to bring her a drink. She put on a practised smile, half seductive and half gentle, and offered the drink to her chosen companion. “You needn’t be so nervous. After all, everyone here is very polite and looking for the same thing.”
The redhead half smiled in thanks and took a sip, before blurting out, “I don’t know what I’m looking for myself.”
“I understand,” said Narcissa, as she grabbed another glass from a passing elf. “It’s very brave to come here in the first place, but soon you’ll feel comfortable. Sometimes I feel as if it’s the world’s last place to escape.”
“That’s exactly it,” the witch said, nodding fervently. “The rest of the world doesn’t exist here, and I can be someone who I can’t be anywhere else.”
“And I’m sure you could be that someone with any witch in the room. You’re quite attractive, you know,” said Narcissa, looking up from her drink to meet incredibly green eyes. She held the witch’s gaze for a moment, and then quickly looked down at her lap, as if she were suddenly shy. “I apologise. That was quite forward of me, and as you said, you don’t know what you’re looking for tonight.”
Before the other witch had a chance to gather her thoughts and respond, Narcissa stood up, smiling once more. “I’ll leave you alone so you can do as you wish.”
“No, I, um- don’t go,” said the witch, quickly standing as well and placing a hand on Narcissa’s shoulder, running it down her arm. “I think I have some idea what I want. I just- I don’t know exactly what to... how do I...?”
“Perhaps we should go somewhere less crowded?” Narcissa suggested, tempering her face to look as non-threatening as possible. In her head, she smirked as she contemplated how easy this was. She had expected a bit more of a challenge, but she had no complaints, as the sooner she had this charming, naive young witch in a bed, the better.
“I’d like that.”
Narcissa whispered instructions to a house-elf, and they stole quietly out of the room, the redhead still gently holding Narcissa’s arm. They were led through more corridors to a small room, sparsely yet comfortably decorated with table and chairs and a magnificent four-poster bed. Narcissa locked the door- the manual locks always bothered her a bit, but it was a small price to pay- and sat on the edge of the bed, gesturing for her companion to sit next to her.
“Would you like to talk?” asked Narcissa, although she wanted nothing of the sort. Thankfully, the witch shook her head, tentatively touching Narcissa’s cheek with warm fingers.
“I think I’d like to kiss you.”
“Then kiss me.”
And she did. Lips as warm as her hands pressed to Narcissa’s, and after a moment of gentleness, she became as fierce as her red hair. In a brief moment of structured thought, Narcissa felt quite pleased that she had found such a seemingly talented bedfellow, before allowing herself to succumb to the sensations as the other witch pushed her back against the bed.
Now the redhead was caressing her over her robes, kissing and even nibbling at her mouth and jaw and neck, and Narcissa pushed her back for a moment. “I want to see your face,” she said, reaching up toward the other woman’s mask.
She frowned. “We’re not supposed to do that.”
Frustrated, Narcissa nearly snapped, but instead smiled and insisted, “It’s a private room, and we can do whatever we please.”
“Well...”
“Please?”
The plea worked, and the witch sat up, sitting for a moment to catch her breath before reaching around the back of her head to untie the ribbon that secured her mask. It fell down off her face, the material fluttering into her lap.
It was a huge mistake.
Narcissa felt chills course through her body, and immediately propelled herself out of the bed, backing towards the door. “Potter!” she spat.
Instantly, the soft features of Lily Potter hardened. “Who are you? How do you know me?”
Ignoring Lily’s questions, Narcissa fumbled with the lock behind her, muttering, “I can’t believe I nearly slept with a Mudblood.”
Incensed, Lily lunged at Narcissa, and before the blonde could so much as raise her arms in front of herself, Lily ripped off her mask and gasped.
“Narcissa Black.”
“Malfoy,” Narcissa corrected, rubbing at her temples. “It’s Malfoy now.”
“Even worse. Let me out of this damned room, now.”
Narcissa pulled her arms back from the lock and crossed them in front of her chest. “Not until you swear you won’t utter a word of this to anyone.”
“Does your sycophantic, murderous husband have any idea that you’re out picking up witches in your spare time?”
“No more than your juvenile blood traitor, I assume."
Lily opened her mouth, fury on her face as though she intended to yell or shout or something similarly crass, then shut it again. She mirrored Narcissa’s stance, crossing her arms, and finally said, “We both have an interest in keeping this quiet, but I don’t trust you.”
“Nor I you,” Narcissa replied, turning to unlock the door, and then stepping aside, gesturing at it. “You may leave. Now. Get out.”
Still storming, Lily marched toward the door and put her hand on the doorknob. Unexpectedly, she paused, turned to Narcissa, and abruptly kissed her again, hands tangled in blonde hair. It was intense and short, and without a word Lily pulled back, left the room, and slammed the door behind her.
Stunned, Narcissa considered, was perhaps an understatement; she didn’t quite know what she felt, and that was troubling in itself. She gathered her mask in her hands, and sat on the bed, clenching it between her fingers for a moment as she steadied her breathing and willed her confused thoughts away. It was merely a misaimed conquest, and she was all the better for it having been interrupted as soon as it was, she told herself.
She would simply have to refuse to be bothered by it.
Narcissa stood, steeling herself and replacing her mask, and exited the room with her head high in the air. After all, there was still much of the evening before her, and it wouldn’t do to go home and sit by herself in the cold, empty manor when there were distractions to be had.