"Stealing Beauty," Narcissa/Lily, NC-17 Title: Stealing Beauty Author:kethlenda Pairing: Narcissa/Lily Rating: NC-17 Warnings: none Word Count: 3,046 Summary:Narcissa scopes out the competition. Author's Notes: Written for rosesanguina at witchwinter 2007. The Latin words of the spell are ganked from Valerie Worth's The Crone's Book of Charms and Spells and probably really mean something more like "beautiful fate," but I liked the ring of them. The horrendous fake Olde Englishe is all my fault. ;)
Narcissa never saw their faces; she couldn't assign names to their voices. By the time she made up her mind that rounding the corner and letting loose a tirade on the boys was vastly preferable to crying in the second-floor corridor, they had disappeared into the anonymity of the crowd.
Most likely, she decided, she didn't know them at all. It was so unfair that a chance comment by a total stranger could ruin her day so completely. Or maybe my life.
It was an assertion that could not, must not, be permitted to stand. It was madness. It was utterly unthinkable. It burned in Narcissa's heart with a taste as green and bitter as the absinthe Bella was always drinking.
"Of course Evans turned him down," the first boy had said. "She can have anyone she wants--she's the prettiest girl at Hogwarts, hands down."
"Damn straight," the second had concurred. "Even Black Three can't hold a candle to 'er."
***
She watched Lily at dinner that night, looking for the secret, the key, the elusive quality that might give those misguided louts the mad idea that Lily was more attractive than Narcissa. It was impossible, of course. The girl was a Mudblood, for a start, and she had red hair and freckles like some sort of Irish milkmaid.
Narcissa had to concede, however, that the little bitch was bloody born for this time of year. The Hall was hung with all sorts of Christmas greenery, and against the pine boughs festooned along the walls, Lily's hair was a candle flame.
Lily looked up then, and somehow she must have felt Narcissa's eyes on her, because she looked straight at Narcissa and frowned. It wasn't an angry frown, really, more of a quizzical frown. Narcissa looked away. It wouldn't do to give the girl any more attention. Merlin knew she had enough of that from the boys.
Narcissa wondered what color Lily's eyes were. Truth be told, she'd never looked closely enough to notice before, and from here she couldn't tell. She didn't dare look again. She had a hunch that they might be green. Narcissa glanced at the boughs of holly strewn across the tables, green kissed by scarlet, and thought again how unfair it was for the boys to judge her against Lily the Walking Christmas Tree, at least this time of year.
She knew her own coloring had more in common with the illusory snow that fell endlessly, falsely, from the enchanted ceiling, and the colorless half-lit sky that birthed it. And who wanted the winter's chill, really, when they could have fire and emeralds? Narcissa shivered.
"Aren't you going to eat that?" asked Maximus Flint, poking at Narcissa's untouched treacle tart.
"No. I'm not hungry." It was just as well, she decided. The last thing she needed under the circumstances was to get fat.
***
"Bellatrix!" she whispered into the fire. She looked furtively over her shoulder; if one of the prefects caught her using the common room fire for Floo calls after lights out, it would be a week of detention at least.
Her sister's face flared to life amid the flames. Behind Bella's tangled hair, Narcissa could make out the shelves and tapestries of Father's study. Letting yourself go again, Bella? Forgetting to comb your hair and bathe because you've got your nose buried so deep in some obscure grimoire of curses that they'll need ten trained bloodhounds to fetch you back out? Suddenly she wasn't sure it was such a good idea to consult Bella in matters of beauty, but it was too late now; Bella would be angry at the interruption either way, and so Narcissa might as well make the best of it.
"What?" demanded Bella, her lips twisted in a scowl. "Did ickle Cissy break a nail at schoolsy-woolsy?"
"No." Narcissa drew a deep breath. "I need your help. Please."
"And what little problem of yours is so pressing that it requires my attention at oh-God-o'clock in the morning?"
Narcissa saw Bella's smile, though, a heartbeat before Bella suppressed it. Bella liked to be needed. She liked feeling like she was sitting on some horde of arcane knowledge that only she could dispense. It made her feel powerful. Narcissa had always known this.
"I'm looking for a spell. And there's nobody who knows hexes like you do." That's it, Cissy, lay on the flattery with a trowel.
"Well, that's so." The smile was blatant now. Narcissa half-expected her sister to lick her lips. "What kind of spell?"
Another furtive glance back into the common room to make sure she was alone--this time more to preserve her pride than to ward off detention--and then she whispered her need into the flames. "I need to make someone...less pretty."
"Ha! I thought you were going to ask me a hard one. Wartcap in her blusher. Works wonders."
"She's not likely to let me anywhere near her blusher. I was hoping for something I could do at a distance..."
"There are a few hexes that will do the trick, but any of those can be undone by Madam Pomfrey, or even a student with half a clue. The only lasting one I know requires you to get close to the...the target."
"Close? How close?"
Bella cackled. "You have to go to bed with her."
Narcissa felt her cheeks burn. Narcissa Black, engage in some sort of Sapphic abomination with a Mudblood? It was unthinkable. It was humiliating. It was flat impossible. "She's no more likely to let me into her knickers than into her makeup bag," she said.
"I'll owl you a copy of the spell anyway," Bella said. "Just in case."
***
The owl arrived next morning. Narcissa snatched the letter from Blodeuwedd's talons as quickly as she could, to prevent anyone catching sight of its contents by accident. She stuffed it deep into the pocket of her robes, giving her fellow Slytherins only purse-lipped silence. This gave rise to a dozen rumors by lunch, most of them involving a forbidden affaire de coeur between Narcissa and whomever the teller thought most exciting or glamorous or shocking. Her purported beaux ranged from a top Ministry official to a French Quidditch star to one of Hogwarts's own professors. Narcissa kept her mouth shut and smiled in satisfaction as the rumors spread. They could only increase her desirability.
After all, what sort of admirers could Lily Evans boast? There was that horrid Potter boy always sniffing around her skirts, she supposed, but while he had only the best of blood--being descended from a minor branch of the Black family himself--the fact was that he was a pompous oaf with messy hair. And, Lily supposed, there were the anonymous boys on the hall who'd thought Evans such a paragon. But certainly no international Quidditch stars...
Narcissa sobered as she remembered that her Quidditch star was fake and that James Potter might well become a real one someday, the way he flew.
She watched Evans again at lunch. This time, she didn't seem to see Narcissa at all. She was laughing and talking with half a dozen boys. Narcissa admitted grudgingly that the Mudblood was rather cute when she was all flushed with mirth like that.
***
Late that night, Narcissa burrowed into her covers and cast Lumos, creating a small pocket of light in the heap of blankets. She pulled the message from Bella out of her robes and read it by the light of her wand.
To steale the Beautie of another Ladie and take it for oneselfe.
To performe this Vile and Despicable charm, ye must take the Ladie into your bed and lye with her as a man with a Woman, and bringe her to the Peake of pleasure. Then, when the Ladie is in the throes of her Paroxysme, ye must pronounce this Incantation, and then ye shall have her Beautie for yourselfe.
After that there were some archaic words that looked like nonsense to Narcissa. She murmured them under her breath all the same, committing them to memory. Just in case. Fatum pulchrum. Fatum pulchrum.
As she extinguished the light from her wand and tucked the paper safely away under her mattress, Narcissa lay awake wondering about the "Paroxysme" mentioned in the charm. What was it? She was half-tempted to Floo Bella again and ask her, but she knew Bella would laugh, and she wasn't in the mood for mad cackling tonight. Whatever it was, Bella would know; Father had reared Bella as the son he'd always wanted, and she'd been going to the taverns (and presumably the brothels) with him since before she'd even finished Hogwarts. If there were anything one wished to know about the act of love, Bella would know.
Narcissa, on the other hand, had been sheltered from such knowledge. Father watched his language around his perfect little lady, and Mother had spoken to her only of duty. Sex was something to which one submitted in order to forge alliances between the great Houses. One's husband's passion was something one endured in the hopes of bearing children to carry on the family name. Mother had spoken often of a man's pleasure and the necessity of providing it. There had been no mention of a "Peake of Pleasure" for a woman.
Narcissa wondered what it might feel like, and whether it might bring that bright flush to Lily Evans's cheeks again, and fell into an uneasy sleep.
***
"Oh, pardon me."
"Why don't you watch where you--Oh, hello, Evans." Narcissa heated all over when she realized it was Lily she'd just brushed against on her way into the Hall.
"Black," said Evans with a nod. She pushed past Narcissa and headed toward the Gryffindor table, muttering something to the girl next to her about stuck-up Slytherin bullies.
Narcissa supposed she shouldn't have been so curt, and then she wondered when she'd started caring about the bloody feelings of some jumped-up Mudblood Gryffindor.
She'd been right, though. Lily's eyes were green, as green as the shiny leaves of the holly that adorned the tables, greener than the pale mistletoe that hung from the lintels.
Later that day, she heard that Lily Evans would be staying at Hogwarts over Christmas. Certainty struck Narcissa with the force of a dozen Stunning Spells. She needed to stay, too.
It was unheard-of for a daughter of the Black family to stay away from home for the holidays; the Christmas and New Year's festivities were the traditional times that the daughters were brought out and paraded before the eligible young pureblood wizards. Having just come of age, Narcissa would be a hot commodity and she knew it. She'd been looking forward to the season with mingled anticipation and disgust--anticipation of the attention that would be lavished upon her, disgust stemming from the niggling sense that the purpose of her entire life was to be sold to the highest bidder.
I won't be of much use on the bloody meat market if everyone wants to shag bloody Lily Evans.
She wrote a letter home to her parents, claiming that she had loads of studying to do for her N.E.W.T.s. She knew it was important to them that she complete her schooling. It would increase her marriageability. Mother and Father could auction her off next year. She knew they wouldn't truly deny her request, though they might scold a bit before capitulating.
She had to stay here, where Lily was. Just in case. Just in case she needed to do that spell.
***
It was Lily who broke the silence, finally. Just strutted across the Great Hall after dinner one night, brazen as you please, freckled little nose high in the air. "Black," she said. "Out with it, will you?"
Her eyes were green, a brilliant shade of malachite, almost so bright they didn't look real, but Narcissa was sure Lily wasn't the kind of silly chav who fooled around with glamours. She was too infused with that silly stiff-necked Gryffindor pride of hers. The eyes were real.
"Well?" demanded Lily. "Did someone put Laryngitis Liquid in your pumpkin juice tonight?"
"Well what? What do you want, Evans?"
"I bloody well want to know why you've been staring at me every day, every meal, for Merlin only knows how long. Have I got tentacles growing out of my forehead or something? Or are you plotting some sort of nasty Slytherin mischief?" Lily's face was as red as her hair now; she looked like she might burst into flame at any moment, and Narcissa wondered if her skin would be hot to the touch.
Come now, Cissy, don't you know how to appease angry people by now? After growing up with Bella…
The sugared words rose easily to her lips. Her cheeks burned, but perhaps that would only add verisimilitude to what she was about to say.
"I...I was just noticing how pretty you are," said Narcissa.
The impossibly green eyes blinked, grew wide. "You fancy girls?"
Narcissa was half ready to hex Lily until she realized the question was not delivered in a derisive fashion. Lily's expression almost looked like genuine curiosity.
"I don't know, not really," said Narcissa.
That was when she realized she really didn't know. Maybe...maybe I do.
"Only one way to find out," said Lily, and Narcissa read both enticement and challenge in her voice.
***
They met in Lily's room. All the other seventh-year Gryffindor girls seemed to have gone home for the holiday, and Lily assured Narcissa that no one would question the Head Girl if she felt like having a visitor in her dormitory after hours.
"I'll tell them I'm tutoring you in something," Lily said with a smirk, and Narcissa bit her lip hard, biting back the reply that wanted to bubble up; it wouldn't do to lose sight of the goal when she was this close.
Fatum Pulchrum pulsed through her mind like a heartbeat. There were throbbings in places she'd scarcely known she had.
She sat on the edge of Lily's bed--such a plain thing, really, not a speck of lace to be found anywhere--and wondered what was supposed to happen next. She realized her hands were folded primly in her lap, her legs crossed, and that somehow these things were wrong but she wasn't quite sure what to do about them.
Lily kissed her.
Lily kissed Narcissa and she'd been right all along, Lily's skin was scalding hot to the touch where Narcissa's hands met Lily's cheeks. Narcissa knew you were supposed to close your eyes when you kissed, but instead she held Lily's gaze, staring into those uncanny eyes. Lily hadn't closed hers either, and her hands were tangling in Narcissa's hair, gently, inexorably pulling her down to the bed.
Narcissa couldn't help but notice that she could see right down the neckline of Lily's robes, that Lily's breasts were half-revealed to her, and it occurred to her to reach out, to cup those breasts in her hands. It will give her pleasure. Fatum Pulchrum.
It amazed her, how soft they were in her hands, how hard the nipples grew when she rubbed her thumbs over them. Her own nipples ached for the same touch, and as if Lily had used some sort of Occlumency, Lily's hands slipped between their entwined bodies and found Narcissa's own breasts. It was a slaking of the thirst and yet it woke other thirsts; Narcissa felt filled with a restless energy that sought release.
She closed her thumb and forefinger around one of Lily's hard little buds and pinched.
"Oh..." moaned Lily, closing her eyes and biting that plump little lower lip of hers.
Bloody hell, Narcissa cursed silently. I didn't miss my chance, did I? "Was that…"
"Was that what?" asked Lily, a confused expression on her face.
"Your...peak?"
Lily laughed. It really was a lovely sound, Narcissa had to admit, like sleigh bells or something. "No, of course not. I just liked that, is all. Here, I'll show you what a peak is really like."
Before Narcissa knew what was happening, the skirts of her robes were rucked up around her waist, and Lily was pulling down Narcissa's knickers, pressing her tongue to the throbbing little spot where Narcissa's frustration was concentrated. As Lily laved that spot with her tongue, her fingers slipped inside, moving in and out with what had to be practiced skill.
She's done this before, this thing with girls, thought Narcissa, and the mental picture of Lily tumbling in this bed with a multitude of pretty girls only made the ache worse. She wanted more, more, and she moved her hips to meet Lily's tongue--yes, there--
Narcissa closed her eyes, and felt she was spinning. As if from far away she heard an inarticulate noise escape her throat.
***
"Your turn," said Narcissa when she'd caught her breath. She tried to put on a fake smile for Lily and then realized she was already smiling a real one.
"Not tonight," said Lily. "Got to go check on some firsties staying over hols, you know? But maybe another night..."
"Right," said Narcissa, trying to straighten her robes back to something resembling respectability. "Another night."
After all, she hadn't had the chance to cast the spell.
Lily gave Narcissa a brief kiss before she left the room, and Narcissa could see in Lily's eyes that she really meant the offer of another night, and for some unfathomable reason this made her happy, for reasons having nothing to do with the spell.
Come now, Cissy, have you ever felt this way about boys? No? Then why do you care what they think?
Because that's all I know, and all I'm meant for, said the sensible voice in Narcissa's head that always sounded rather like Mother.
Perhaps she'd put the hex off a little longer. Why shouldn't she stretch this little fling out as long as she could, while she was still free? Before propriety swallowed her whole, before life withered into a hollow routine of duty--