Narcissa/Dumbledore. “Narcissa would do anything to save her son.” In which Narcissa is far too literal for her own good and Dumbledore is too old to be dealing with this crap.
--
Narcissa Malfoy had a plan. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had, but it was
an idea, which was really good enough.
“I beg your pardon?” Severus looked disturbed. “You want a--Narcissa, I have told your husband this many times, but I never thought that you would require the same warning.
Do not involve me in your intimate life.”
“This has nothing to do with my husand,” Narcissa said, gesturing at one of the house elves for tea. “It’s something for the Dark Lord.”
Severus turned a rather odd shade of puce and looked at the ceiling, pained. “If it’s for the Dark Lord, then I have no choice but to help you. But that doesn’t mean I want to know
anything,” he finished darkly, lips thin. “The
mulier quod vir potion takes three hours to make and lasts for roughly twelve hours. I’ll be return with it this evening.” As the man stormed from the room, Narcissa smiled.
Everything was going according to plan.
When Severus returned, the same pained look still fixed on his sallow face, he had the potion in hand. “Now remember,” he warned, “the effects will last for twelve hours, and not a moment more.”
“How is it applied?”
“You--” The red was far more becoming on Severus than the puce, Narcissa thought as the man’s face bloomed in frustrated color. “It’s---This is not appropriate in any way,” he muttered. “You simply coat your, ah,
lower extremities in it, and wait for ten minutes. The effects will be instantaneous. Now,” he added snappishly, “if that is all, then I have a bottle of fire whiskey waiting for me.”
Narcissa didn’t bother to respond as the man swept from the room. She hurried to her bathroom and set the bottle on the counter, pulling off her robes and undergarments. Pouring the solution into one of the washbasins, she soaked a rag in it, then began to apply it to herself, shivering as the potion-coated parts between her legs began to react.
Ten minutes later, Narcissa Malfoy had a penis.
**
Albus Dumbledore had seen a lot of bizarre things in his life, from Gellert Grindlewald’s collection of shrunken rabbit heads to Argus Filch’s strange and possibly illegal relationship with his cat. But
this was something else entirely.
“Mrs. Malfoy,” he said heavily, “I don’t quite understand.”
“We had a deal, as you’ll recall,” she said coldly, though the deadly expression on her face was rendered ineffective by the cock poking out from the front of her undergarments and the skirt being roughly held up in her clenched fists.
“Yes,” he sighed. “However--”
“You said that you needed a man on the inside and that if I could provide one for you, my son would be given protection and amnesty,” she said icily. “As I would never allow my son to cater toward your clearly deviant tastes, I took matters into my own hands. Now, will you be bending over the desk, or did you have another location in mind?”
The office was utterly silent as Albus took in that statement. “Mrs. Malfoy,” he said slowly, “I believe there has been a misunderstanding. When I said ‘a man on the inside,’ I meant I needed a
spy from the Dark Lord’s ranks.”
The skirts dropped. “Did you.”
“Yes.”
“I see.”
“Quite.”
“Well. There are several of the younger recruits that I’ve no doubt will be willing to help you. I’ll just be off to see them then, shall I?”
“You do that,” Albus replied quickly, burying his face in his hands the moment she floo’d from his office.
He was getting far too old for this crap.
--
Koko, stop giving me these prompts. My brain is dying a slow and painfully odd death.
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glockgal has started a meme for fanartists to share the love. my fanart meme entry
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