Title: Word Games
Author: inamac
Characters/Pairings: Lucius/Narcissa/Snape
Rating: R (for lack of actual sex descriptions)
Kinks/Themes Chosen: dark wizards/witches: arousal by or worship of Dark magic users
Other Warnings: puns, filthy limericks, implied incest, object insertion, pervertibles, innuendo, misuse of alcohol.
Word Count: 1100
Summary/Description: Waiting for the Dark Lord to make his plans can be very boring. Three Death Eaters find a way to pass the time.
Author's Notes: I was completely at a loss for an idea this month, so I just wound them up and let them get on with it. I have to thank Cabin Pressure for poetic inspiration, and certain scenes towards the end of Deathly Hallows Part 1. More smut than deviance, sadly.



"An evil old wizard called Riddle,
Decided to take up the fiddle.
The noises at night
Were a terrible fright
And made all the Death Eaters piddle."

"Piddle?" Lucius frowned as he upended the wine bottle over his empty glass. "That's a bit tame for us Death Eaters isn't it? Dogs piddle. Babies piddle." He wrinkled his nose, memories of Draco's infant indiscretions all too clear in his mind. "Death Eaters..." Discovering that the bottle was empty he waved it vaguely in the air while he sought for an appropriate term.

"Take the piss?" Snape suggested. "Go for a slash?"

Lucius shuddered. "Please don't use That Word. I'm trying to forget Bellatrix's literary efforts. Listening to her read that smut aloud is not my idea of a fun evening."

"Better than watching her encourage Rab and Roddy to act it out. The woman has a perverted mind."

"It seemed to interest His Lordship," said Snape, thoughtfully. "As much as anything does these days. And I always had my suspicions about the Lestrange brothers. They do say incest runs in families. It appears that in that family it positively gallops. But I was using the word 'slash' in its urinatory sense."

"Doesn't rhyme," slurred Narcissa. "Slash. Doesn't rhyme with Riddle. Has to be piddle. And if you're not going to drink out of that you can hand it over here." She grabbed at the bottle, which her husband allowed her to extract from his loose grip, and upended it over her open mouth. She grimaced. "'S empty," she protested.

"Well you didn't think I'd be using it for punctuation if there was any wine left, did you?"

"Oh shut up, Lucy. You always get so pompous when you're drunk. Sevvie, darling, Accio us another bottle."

"Shit," Snape responded, emphatically.

Lucius looked briefly pained. "What? Are we out of booze?"

"Shit. Hit. Pit. Sit. Tit. Lots of words rhyme with shit."

Narcissa scowled at both men and employed her own wand to summon another bottle. She over-carefully poured the contents into their glasses while Snape elaborated on his new rhyme-scheme.

"Said our Lord at the fancy dress do,
When a Demon arrived through the floo;
'I don't give a shit
If you come from the Pit
Get your arse over here for a screw.'"

"I remember that Halloween," Lucius reminisced. "The demon turned out to be Sirius Black gatecrashing, didn't he? We never did find out who gave him the floo co-ordinates. I don't suppose you might be able to shed light on the matter, Severus?"

Snape shrugged, unconvincingly. "Search me. I suppose someone might have let slip the details in the Three Broomsticks. Black and his cronies used to hang around there a lot."

"Well he certainly got more than he can have bargained for. Though he seemed to be enjoying it – in the end. Pity he had to be Obliviated."

Narcissa hiccupped and raised her glass in a salute. "Best thing, really. And you're so good at mind-charms, darling. Mummy never did find out who broke the four-poster in the spare room."

"Sh...shoddy muggle workmanship," slurred Lucius. " Wouldn't stand up to a proper orgy. Not like the antique stuff we have at the Manor. "

"It was Chippendale," Narcissa confided in Snape. "A personal commission by Great-Great-Great... whatever – Grandfather Argol." She frowned at Lucius. "Great at memory spells, hopeless at furniture repair. And it's your turn, darling."

"An ugly old wizard named Carrow,
Did something obscene with a marrow.
The vegetable stuck
In his partner mid-fuck,
So he wheeled her home in a barrow."

"I thought it was a squash," mused Snape.

Lucius swallowed more wine. "Some sort of vegetable, anyway. Now who's being picky about accuracy? Pass the peanuts."

"Mind you," Snape said, complying with the order, "You wouldn't believe the things they have to deal with at St Mungo's after one of Alecto's parties."

Narcissa shuddered. "So much more discrete having a personal physician."

"And someone who can whip up the necessary potions to cover ones more embarrassing needs," Lucius nodded. "How is the latest experiment with brandy-flavoured lubricant coming?"

Snape nodded towards the bag he had left on the sideboard. "I bought the latest formula along. It would be much easier if you didn't insist on the taste of Louis XIII Black Pearl Cognac ."

"I don't believe either of us would settle for less than the best."

"When Malfoy sets out to impress,
He always insists on the best
The lube he keeps handy
Does taste of best brandy
And lasts for ten hours without rest."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Really?" he asked. "Isn't ten hours a bit excessive? Although I do try to keep fit."

"How do you do it?" asked Snape.

"Do what?"

"Look so damn sexy even when you're pissed?"

"Natural talent." Lucius nevertheless looked smug. His wife snorted derisively.

"Half a dozen house elves and room full of beauty preparations, more like. Did you know," she asked Snape, "that he has more brands of shampoo than I do?"

"There has been speculation about whether our Severus has any idea what shampoo is." Lucius reached out to ruffle Snape's hair. Unexpectedly Snape leaned into the caress and allowed the older man's arm to slip down around his shoulders.

"Macassar oil," he explained. "What was good enough for grandfather is good enough for me. It never put you off. Or Narcissa."

"I think we were more impressed by your other talents," Lucius observed, turning the attention of his fingers to the buttons on Snape's robes. "Like the nose. You know what they say, big nose, big cock."

Narcissa frowned. "That can't be right. Doesn't explain what Bella sees in the Dark Lord. Especially since Voldy is not well endowed in the olfactory department." She carefully set her now empty glass down on the hearth and crawled across to assist her husband by unlacing Snape's boots. "I thought it was feet," she said, "Now Lucius has lovely long feet. Very sensitive. Just like his..."

"You," Snape broke in, taking another long draught of the wine, "are not nearly pissed enough if you can use long words like olf...olfa... Oh fuck."

"Why thank you, Severus," Lucius purred, with no trace of inebriation. "We don't mind if we do. Narcissa, pass over that lube. Let's see whether he's got the taste right this time."

There was a young witch called Narcissa,
Who couldn't decide who should kiss her,
Of both brunet and blond
She was awfully fond
So she got them both pissed and a thoroughly good time was had by all.

The (Hic) End.