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scarletladyy
Jan. 9th, 2011 04:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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rarepair_shortsAuthor: dexstarr
Recipient:scarletladyy
Title: Toujours Fidèle
Pairing: Narcissa/Pansy
Rating: R
Word Count: 2474
Summary: ‘Soon’ can’t come quickly enough for Pansy.
Author's Notes: Thanks to S. for beta’ing; D. for Brit-picking; J., P., and S. for support and assistance. Thanks to the mods for being understanding.
* * *
Now
November 1997, Seventh Year
For once in her life, Pansy is looking forward to her birthday. Normally she hates the day, for as she was born in November, the weather is always horrid – cold and snowy; two things she hates – and her parents have always given her disappointing gifts. Her mother gives Pansy what she would want, and so Pansy has received an antique wardrobe, a piano, and a Kneazle in the past. The Kneazle was the worst, as her mother had conveniently forgotten Pansy’s allergy to cat hair.
But this birthday is different. She is seventeen today. Even if she receives yet another horrid gift from her mother, it won’t matter because Pansy is an adult now. She can use magic any time now – which means she can show her mother just what she thinks of those disappointing gifts.
Her parents’ owl lands in front of her plate, offering a tightly furled letter and a small, wrapped package. The note is from her mother, short and perfunctory, wishing her a happy birthday, with a postscript reminding Pansy to be courteous to Draco, at least until the engagement is official. The package is from her father, and she is excited for a moment, before opening the box to find the traditional gift for a witch coming of age: a platinum ladies watch accented with diamond stars.
Sighing, Pansy flicks her wand at the note to Vanish it, sets the watch aside, and then reaches for her orange juice. She looks hopefully towards Draco, to see if he remembered, but he is talking with Crabbe and Goyle as if today is a normal day.
Then a second owl with distinctive blue-black feathers swoops down to drop an envelope and box on her lap, and Pansy’s whole face lights up in happiness. She had known Narcissa would remember.
She opens the envelope slowly, her fingers tracing over the scrollwork ‘N’ pressed into the black wax seal before breaking it open. Pansy’s heart starts to flutter when her nose catches a familiar scent of jasmine, and she eagerly pulls out the thick, creamy parchment and begins to read.
~~~
Pansy,
Happy Birthday, my dear. I am sure that your parents have given you the customary gift of a watch. I am also sure that my son has forgotten your birthday, as we both know he has no head for any dates but Quidditch matches, but I hope that what I have sent you will remedy that minor annoyance.
Now that you are officially of age, the contract concerning your betrothal can be signed. Your parents would have signed it years ago, of course, but for the laws in place to prevent Muggleborns from being unknowingly trapped in arranged marriages.
Like last year, you will be spending the winter holidays at the manor; it has already been arranged.
I know that you are as excited about this as I am; I greatly look forward to the evening after the engagement ceremony. We have discussed what this means for you and I when you are officially a Malfoy.
N.
~~~
Opening the box, Pansy finds an exquisite necklace nestled on dark blue velvet. The necklace is identical to one Narcissa wears every day – a princess-cut black diamond pendant strung on a delicate silver chain.
Draco chooses that moment to look at her, and his eyes widen in confusion when he sees what she’s holding. ‘Is – is that from my mother?’
‘Yes, she sent it for my birthday,’ Pansy says, resisting the urge to laugh. ‘From you,’ she adds quickly, and his customary smugness slides over the surprise on his face like a mask.
He reaches for the box and Pansy hands it to him reluctantly. ‘She has excellent taste,’ Draco says as he puts the necklace on her, his fingers poking into the back of her neck as he fumbles with the tiny clasp. ‘Happy Birthday, by the way.’
‘She does,’ Pansy agrees, smiling as she thinks of what else Narcissa has excellent taste in. ‘And thanks.’
That night, Pansy goes to sleep with one hand clutching her new necklace, the other creeping underneath her sheets, and her mind filled with dreams of her soon-to-be lover.
* * *
Then
December 1996, Sixth Year
Pansy knocked lightly on the door to Mrs Malfoy’s bedroom; a house-elf had told her the mistress of the house wanted to see her before dinner.
‘Come in.’
Pushing the door open, Pansy entered the room and saw that the other woman was sitting at her vanity table. She smiled at the glowing reflection in the mirror; Mrs Malfoy looked much happier than she had when Pansy had first arrived at the manor.
Draco had asked her, on the train ride to Platform 9¾ for winter holidays, if she would come spend some time with his mother over the break. He had said that his mother needed a female companion, leaving unspoken what they both knew – that Narcissa Malfoy needed a sane companion after spending months alone in the manor with only Bellatrix Lestrange for company. Pansy had readily agreed, knowing that her own mother wouldn’t mind; Camellia Parkinson highly approved of anything that furthered her daughter’s engagement. And too, she had thought it was quite sweet of Draco to be so concerned about his mother; Pansy hoped it was a sign that they would have a loving relationship, just like the one his parents appeared to have.
‘The elf said you wanted me, Mrs Malfoy?’
‘Yes, I thought we could have dinner together. My sister has taken Draco out, so it’s just you and me tonight.’ Turning to face Pansy, she cocked an eyebrow at the girl. ‘And please dear, call me Narcissa. I’ve told you how many times now?’
Feeling a blush creep over her cheeks, Pansy said, ‘I’m sorry. But that sounds lovely, Mrs—Narcissa.’ She sighed inwardly at her stumble – she shouldn’t be so nervous around her future mother-in-law, but Narcissa, with her graceful manner and elegant bearing, always made Pansy feel like an awkward child instead of a young woman.
‘Excellent. I had the elves prepare some of your favourites; I wanted to show you that I appreciate you spending your holidays here, with me. I’m sure it wasn’t what you wanted to do,’ Narcissa said quietly.
‘No,’ Pansy said, shaking her head. ‘I don’t mind, not at all. You know I’ve always liked spending time with you.’ And she did; ever since her first visit to Malfoy Manor, when she’d been six and sent for a play date with Draco, Pansy had been fond of Narcissa. She had always been willing to play with dolls and have pretend tea parties with Pansy whilst Draco had always wanted to fly on their toy brooms in the gardens.
‘I’m happy to hear that, dear.’
*
After dinner, when they were standing outside Pansy’s room, Narcissa turned to her and said, ‘You’re very pretty, dear. Did you know that?’
‘What—’ Pansy gasped, astonished, and wondered if the other woman had had too much wine at dinner. Then her back was against the wall, and Narcissa’s lips were on hers, and all conscious thought fled her mind. The kiss seemed to go on for an eternity, soft and warm and tasting vaguely of raspberries.
*
The next day, when an elf told her that his mistress had requested her presence before dinner, Pansy went to Narcissa’s bedroom determined to find out what had happened last night. Part of her hoped it had been real, the part that had had a crush on Narcissa for years, the part that she kept hidden because it wasn’t proper to have such feelings for her future mother-in-law.
Knocking once on the door, Pansy pushed it open without waiting for acknowledgement, her manners forgotten in her haste. ‘Narcissa?’ she asked, and then stopped short when she saw her.
‘Get my dress, would you?’ Narcissa said, gesturing languidly towards the navy silk dress hanging on the back of the door, seemingly unconscious of her near nudity.
Pansy gaped at her for a moment before obeying, her intention to confront Narcissa forgotten. When she handed the dress over, her hand shook, and the other woman laughed, a light, bell-like sound that echoed in Pansy’s ears.
‘Don’t be nervous, dear. Haven’t you helped your mother before?’
‘Well, yes, but—’
Waving a hand, Narcissa interrupted her. ‘You’re practically one of the family, and soon enough you will be.’ Turning her back to Pansy, she slipped the dress over her head. ‘Zip me up?’
Pansy’s hands were still shaking and she could barely grasp the tiny zipper, but she eventually managed it, and she sighed quietly as Narcissa’s pale, perfect back was covered by blue silk. She didn’t know what drove her to do it, but when she heard Narcissa laugh again, some of her boldness came back, and Pansy swept blonde hair out of her way and lightly kissed the nape of Narcissa’s neck. And when Pansy felt the other woman quiver and stiffen at her touch, she smiled, her lips still pressed against jasmine-perfumed skin.
‘After dinner, Pansy dear.’
*
‘Finally,’ Pansy growled when they were outside her bedroom, dinner having ended moments ago – but not soon enough for her.
The meal had been one long tease: full of watching Narcissa’s lips caress the rim of her wine glass like a lover, accompanied by flirtatious blue-eyed winks beneath pale blonde lashes. Pansy didn’t know how the others at dinner hadn’t noticed – she’d barely been able to sit through it, but Draco had been preoccupied with something, and Bellatrix had been busy annoying the house-elves.
Long buried desires came to the surface as Pansy grabbed fistfuls of Narcissa’s dress and pulled her close, until their bodies were pressed together. The other woman seemed content to let her be the aggressor tonight, and Pansy trailed a line of rough kisses down the elegant arch of Narcissa’s neck until her lips touched the chain of Narcissa’s necklace. Pansy smiled when she felt Narcissa tremble against her, and she worked her way back up to the other woman’s mouth, her tongue swiping over the sticky, pale-pink prints her lip-gloss had left on Narcissa’s pale skin.
Their lips came together in a kiss that was frantic yet chaste, and Pansy’s eyes closed as she lost herself in the perfection of Narcissa’s mouth.
‘No,’ Narcissa panted breathlessly, finally pulling away after a minute or an hour – Pansy wasn’t sure. ‘Not yet.’
Pansy stared at her, confusion and hurt clear in her eyes. ‘When? Why do I have to wait?’ she whined, knowing that she sounded like a child, but she didn’t care. Now that it appeared that Narcissa shared at least some of the feelings Pansy had for her, it was impossible to wait any longer.
Laughing softly once more, Narcissa leant forward and brushed her lips gently against Pansy’s. ‘You have to be part of the family first. You have to be mine.’
‘But I am yours—’
‘Soon, darling.’
* * *
Now
December 1997, Seventh Year
When Draco finally falls asleep, sprawled on his back and snoring, Pansy slips out of his bed. He had wanted to ‘celebrate’ their official engagement, and she hadn’t argued. She loved Draco, she really did; it wasn’t his fault that another had superseded him in her affections.
As Pansy leaves his room, candlelight glints off the heavy silver ring on her right hand – the proof of her official engagement and entrance into the Malfoy family. The ceremony earlier had been short and simple: she had signed the papers Lucius had prepared, repeated an oath of loyalty to her future family, and then Draco had slipped the ring onto her finger.
The hardest part had been to not stare longingly at Narcissa, but Pansy had learnt some patience over the last year – a ‘soon’ stretched out far too long. She’d even been a good girl at King’s Cross; Narcissa had picked up her and Draco, and Pansy had longed to kiss her, but had settled for a polite greeting instead.
Once back in her room, Pansy takes a quick shower, charms herself dry, and slips on the robe hanging in her bathroom. The robe is dark red satin and embroidered with her future initials – ‘PM’ – and Pansy’s patience starts to fray; clearly Narcissa is as excited as she is.
Walking down the hallway to Narcissa’s suite, Pansy is flooded with memories of insistent yet innocent kisses along the walls, of love notes written on thick parchment scented with Narcissa’s jasmine perfume.
Her belly is already quivering when Pansy enters the bedroom, and then her heart pounds frantically when she sees that Narcissa is stretched out on her bed, pewter-grey silken sheets clinging to her curves.
‘Come here, darling,’ Narcissa says, smiling warmly, and pats the bed beside her.
Stepping forward eagerly, Pansy slips off her robe, showing she has nothing beneath it save for the necklace Narcissa sent for her birthday, and kneels next to her on the bed. ‘Narcissa,’ Pansy breathes, all of her former shyness gone, and leans forward to press her lips teasingly against the corner of Narcissa’s mouth.
The kiss starts out slowly and gently as all their others have, but when Narcissa doesn’t pull back, Pansy’s tongue sneaks between Narcissa’s parted lips. ‘Yesss,’ she moans, her eyes closing in ecstasy, happiness soaring inside her now that she can finally do this.
But when Pansy’s fingers seek out the pale flesh hiding beneath the sheets, a sudden burning sensation on her right hand has her pulling back from Narcissa. Undeterred, she tries again, but the burning feeling spreads throughout her whole hand when she does. ‘Ow!’ Annoyed, Pansy looks at her engagement ring and finds it is now molten red, the metal blisteringly hot around her finger. ‘What’s wrong with this thing?’
Narcissa strokes Pansy’s knee comfortingly, but her words are chilling. ‘It will continue to hurt you until you stop forcing yourself on me.’
‘I—I don’t understand,’ Pansy says, confused. She’s not forcing herself on Narcissa – Narcissa is the one who started this.
‘You see, darling,’ Narcissa says, ‘the oath you took earlier prevents infidelity.’ Her hand moves up Pansy’s leg, touches her inner thigh, and Pansy winces when another jolt of pain courses through her ringed hand. ‘You are bound to Draco, and to Draco only. I took the same oath when I was promised to Lucius.’
‘You—you knew this would happen?’
A nod.
Hurt and anger battle for dominance, and Pansy can barely speak. ‘But—why—I—’
Narcissa smirks; for the first time Pansy sees the expression as cold and unfeeling, and the hairs on the back of her neck rise.
‘Because, my dear Pansy, misery loves company.’
* * *
dexstarrRecipient:
scarletladyyTitle: Toujours Fidèle
Pairing: Narcissa/Pansy
Rating: R
Word Count: 2474
Summary: ‘Soon’ can’t come quickly enough for Pansy.
Author's Notes: Thanks to S. for beta’ing; D. for Brit-picking; J., P., and S. for support and assistance. Thanks to the mods for being understanding.
Now
November 1997, Seventh Year
For once in her life, Pansy is looking forward to her birthday. Normally she hates the day, for as she was born in November, the weather is always horrid – cold and snowy; two things she hates – and her parents have always given her disappointing gifts. Her mother gives Pansy what she would want, and so Pansy has received an antique wardrobe, a piano, and a Kneazle in the past. The Kneazle was the worst, as her mother had conveniently forgotten Pansy’s allergy to cat hair.
But this birthday is different. She is seventeen today. Even if she receives yet another horrid gift from her mother, it won’t matter because Pansy is an adult now. She can use magic any time now – which means she can show her mother just what she thinks of those disappointing gifts.
Her parents’ owl lands in front of her plate, offering a tightly furled letter and a small, wrapped package. The note is from her mother, short and perfunctory, wishing her a happy birthday, with a postscript reminding Pansy to be courteous to Draco, at least until the engagement is official. The package is from her father, and she is excited for a moment, before opening the box to find the traditional gift for a witch coming of age: a platinum ladies watch accented with diamond stars.
Sighing, Pansy flicks her wand at the note to Vanish it, sets the watch aside, and then reaches for her orange juice. She looks hopefully towards Draco, to see if he remembered, but he is talking with Crabbe and Goyle as if today is a normal day.
Then a second owl with distinctive blue-black feathers swoops down to drop an envelope and box on her lap, and Pansy’s whole face lights up in happiness. She had known Narcissa would remember.
She opens the envelope slowly, her fingers tracing over the scrollwork ‘N’ pressed into the black wax seal before breaking it open. Pansy’s heart starts to flutter when her nose catches a familiar scent of jasmine, and she eagerly pulls out the thick, creamy parchment and begins to read.
Pansy,
Happy Birthday, my dear. I am sure that your parents have given you the customary gift of a watch. I am also sure that my son has forgotten your birthday, as we both know he has no head for any dates but Quidditch matches, but I hope that what I have sent you will remedy that minor annoyance.
Now that you are officially of age, the contract concerning your betrothal can be signed. Your parents would have signed it years ago, of course, but for the laws in place to prevent Muggleborns from being unknowingly trapped in arranged marriages.
Like last year, you will be spending the winter holidays at the manor; it has already been arranged.
I know that you are as excited about this as I am; I greatly look forward to the evening after the engagement ceremony. We have discussed what this means for you and I when you are officially a Malfoy.
N.
Opening the box, Pansy finds an exquisite necklace nestled on dark blue velvet. The necklace is identical to one Narcissa wears every day – a princess-cut black diamond pendant strung on a delicate silver chain.
Draco chooses that moment to look at her, and his eyes widen in confusion when he sees what she’s holding. ‘Is – is that from my mother?’
‘Yes, she sent it for my birthday,’ Pansy says, resisting the urge to laugh. ‘From you,’ she adds quickly, and his customary smugness slides over the surprise on his face like a mask.
He reaches for the box and Pansy hands it to him reluctantly. ‘She has excellent taste,’ Draco says as he puts the necklace on her, his fingers poking into the back of her neck as he fumbles with the tiny clasp. ‘Happy Birthday, by the way.’
‘She does,’ Pansy agrees, smiling as she thinks of what else Narcissa has excellent taste in. ‘And thanks.’
That night, Pansy goes to sleep with one hand clutching her new necklace, the other creeping underneath her sheets, and her mind filled with dreams of her soon-to-be lover.
Then
December 1996, Sixth Year
Pansy knocked lightly on the door to Mrs Malfoy’s bedroom; a house-elf had told her the mistress of the house wanted to see her before dinner.
‘Come in.’
Pushing the door open, Pansy entered the room and saw that the other woman was sitting at her vanity table. She smiled at the glowing reflection in the mirror; Mrs Malfoy looked much happier than she had when Pansy had first arrived at the manor.
Draco had asked her, on the train ride to Platform 9¾ for winter holidays, if she would come spend some time with his mother over the break. He had said that his mother needed a female companion, leaving unspoken what they both knew – that Narcissa Malfoy needed a sane companion after spending months alone in the manor with only Bellatrix Lestrange for company. Pansy had readily agreed, knowing that her own mother wouldn’t mind; Camellia Parkinson highly approved of anything that furthered her daughter’s engagement. And too, she had thought it was quite sweet of Draco to be so concerned about his mother; Pansy hoped it was a sign that they would have a loving relationship, just like the one his parents appeared to have.
‘The elf said you wanted me, Mrs Malfoy?’
‘Yes, I thought we could have dinner together. My sister has taken Draco out, so it’s just you and me tonight.’ Turning to face Pansy, she cocked an eyebrow at the girl. ‘And please dear, call me Narcissa. I’ve told you how many times now?’
Feeling a blush creep over her cheeks, Pansy said, ‘I’m sorry. But that sounds lovely, Mrs—Narcissa.’ She sighed inwardly at her stumble – she shouldn’t be so nervous around her future mother-in-law, but Narcissa, with her graceful manner and elegant bearing, always made Pansy feel like an awkward child instead of a young woman.
‘Excellent. I had the elves prepare some of your favourites; I wanted to show you that I appreciate you spending your holidays here, with me. I’m sure it wasn’t what you wanted to do,’ Narcissa said quietly.
‘No,’ Pansy said, shaking her head. ‘I don’t mind, not at all. You know I’ve always liked spending time with you.’ And she did; ever since her first visit to Malfoy Manor, when she’d been six and sent for a play date with Draco, Pansy had been fond of Narcissa. She had always been willing to play with dolls and have pretend tea parties with Pansy whilst Draco had always wanted to fly on their toy brooms in the gardens.
‘I’m happy to hear that, dear.’
After dinner, when they were standing outside Pansy’s room, Narcissa turned to her and said, ‘You’re very pretty, dear. Did you know that?’
‘What—’ Pansy gasped, astonished, and wondered if the other woman had had too much wine at dinner. Then her back was against the wall, and Narcissa’s lips were on hers, and all conscious thought fled her mind. The kiss seemed to go on for an eternity, soft and warm and tasting vaguely of raspberries.
The next day, when an elf told her that his mistress had requested her presence before dinner, Pansy went to Narcissa’s bedroom determined to find out what had happened last night. Part of her hoped it had been real, the part that had had a crush on Narcissa for years, the part that she kept hidden because it wasn’t proper to have such feelings for her future mother-in-law.
Knocking once on the door, Pansy pushed it open without waiting for acknowledgement, her manners forgotten in her haste. ‘Narcissa?’ she asked, and then stopped short when she saw her.
‘Get my dress, would you?’ Narcissa said, gesturing languidly towards the navy silk dress hanging on the back of the door, seemingly unconscious of her near nudity.
Pansy gaped at her for a moment before obeying, her intention to confront Narcissa forgotten. When she handed the dress over, her hand shook, and the other woman laughed, a light, bell-like sound that echoed in Pansy’s ears.
‘Don’t be nervous, dear. Haven’t you helped your mother before?’
‘Well, yes, but—’
Waving a hand, Narcissa interrupted her. ‘You’re practically one of the family, and soon enough you will be.’ Turning her back to Pansy, she slipped the dress over her head. ‘Zip me up?’
Pansy’s hands were still shaking and she could barely grasp the tiny zipper, but she eventually managed it, and she sighed quietly as Narcissa’s pale, perfect back was covered by blue silk. She didn’t know what drove her to do it, but when she heard Narcissa laugh again, some of her boldness came back, and Pansy swept blonde hair out of her way and lightly kissed the nape of Narcissa’s neck. And when Pansy felt the other woman quiver and stiffen at her touch, she smiled, her lips still pressed against jasmine-perfumed skin.
‘After dinner, Pansy dear.’
‘Finally,’ Pansy growled when they were outside her bedroom, dinner having ended moments ago – but not soon enough for her.
The meal had been one long tease: full of watching Narcissa’s lips caress the rim of her wine glass like a lover, accompanied by flirtatious blue-eyed winks beneath pale blonde lashes. Pansy didn’t know how the others at dinner hadn’t noticed – she’d barely been able to sit through it, but Draco had been preoccupied with something, and Bellatrix had been busy annoying the house-elves.
Long buried desires came to the surface as Pansy grabbed fistfuls of Narcissa’s dress and pulled her close, until their bodies were pressed together. The other woman seemed content to let her be the aggressor tonight, and Pansy trailed a line of rough kisses down the elegant arch of Narcissa’s neck until her lips touched the chain of Narcissa’s necklace. Pansy smiled when she felt Narcissa tremble against her, and she worked her way back up to the other woman’s mouth, her tongue swiping over the sticky, pale-pink prints her lip-gloss had left on Narcissa’s pale skin.
Their lips came together in a kiss that was frantic yet chaste, and Pansy’s eyes closed as she lost herself in the perfection of Narcissa’s mouth.
‘No,’ Narcissa panted breathlessly, finally pulling away after a minute or an hour – Pansy wasn’t sure. ‘Not yet.’
Pansy stared at her, confusion and hurt clear in her eyes. ‘When? Why do I have to wait?’ she whined, knowing that she sounded like a child, but she didn’t care. Now that it appeared that Narcissa shared at least some of the feelings Pansy had for her, it was impossible to wait any longer.
Laughing softly once more, Narcissa leant forward and brushed her lips gently against Pansy’s. ‘You have to be part of the family first. You have to be mine.’
‘But I am yours—’
‘Soon, darling.’
Now
December 1997, Seventh Year
When Draco finally falls asleep, sprawled on his back and snoring, Pansy slips out of his bed. He had wanted to ‘celebrate’ their official engagement, and she hadn’t argued. She loved Draco, she really did; it wasn’t his fault that another had superseded him in her affections.
As Pansy leaves his room, candlelight glints off the heavy silver ring on her right hand – the proof of her official engagement and entrance into the Malfoy family. The ceremony earlier had been short and simple: she had signed the papers Lucius had prepared, repeated an oath of loyalty to her future family, and then Draco had slipped the ring onto her finger.
The hardest part had been to not stare longingly at Narcissa, but Pansy had learnt some patience over the last year – a ‘soon’ stretched out far too long. She’d even been a good girl at King’s Cross; Narcissa had picked up her and Draco, and Pansy had longed to kiss her, but had settled for a polite greeting instead.
Once back in her room, Pansy takes a quick shower, charms herself dry, and slips on the robe hanging in her bathroom. The robe is dark red satin and embroidered with her future initials – ‘PM’ – and Pansy’s patience starts to fray; clearly Narcissa is as excited as she is.
Walking down the hallway to Narcissa’s suite, Pansy is flooded with memories of insistent yet innocent kisses along the walls, of love notes written on thick parchment scented with Narcissa’s jasmine perfume.
Her belly is already quivering when Pansy enters the bedroom, and then her heart pounds frantically when she sees that Narcissa is stretched out on her bed, pewter-grey silken sheets clinging to her curves.
‘Come here, darling,’ Narcissa says, smiling warmly, and pats the bed beside her.
Stepping forward eagerly, Pansy slips off her robe, showing she has nothing beneath it save for the necklace Narcissa sent for her birthday, and kneels next to her on the bed. ‘Narcissa,’ Pansy breathes, all of her former shyness gone, and leans forward to press her lips teasingly against the corner of Narcissa’s mouth.
The kiss starts out slowly and gently as all their others have, but when Narcissa doesn’t pull back, Pansy’s tongue sneaks between Narcissa’s parted lips. ‘Yesss,’ she moans, her eyes closing in ecstasy, happiness soaring inside her now that she can finally do this.
But when Pansy’s fingers seek out the pale flesh hiding beneath the sheets, a sudden burning sensation on her right hand has her pulling back from Narcissa. Undeterred, she tries again, but the burning feeling spreads throughout her whole hand when she does. ‘Ow!’ Annoyed, Pansy looks at her engagement ring and finds it is now molten red, the metal blisteringly hot around her finger. ‘What’s wrong with this thing?’
Narcissa strokes Pansy’s knee comfortingly, but her words are chilling. ‘It will continue to hurt you until you stop forcing yourself on me.’
‘I—I don’t understand,’ Pansy says, confused. She’s not forcing herself on Narcissa – Narcissa is the one who started this.
‘You see, darling,’ Narcissa says, ‘the oath you took earlier prevents infidelity.’ Her hand moves up Pansy’s leg, touches her inner thigh, and Pansy winces when another jolt of pain courses through her ringed hand. ‘You are bound to Draco, and to Draco only. I took the same oath when I was promised to Lucius.’
‘You—you knew this would happen?’
A nod.
Hurt and anger battle for dominance, and Pansy can barely speak. ‘But—why—I—’
Narcissa smirks; for the first time Pansy sees the expression as cold and unfeeling, and the hairs on the back of her neck rise.
‘Because, my dear Pansy, misery loves company.’
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Date: 2011-01-09 03:07 pm (UTC)Narcissa is very Slytherin in this, which makes her just lovely, and planting the little note of Bellatrix and Draco off for the evening sent my mind a wandering!
Thank you so much for writing this for me! :D
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