Written for the 6th annual day of Femme slash. Unbeta’d, I hope I got most of the mistakes. Sexual relations, (not too explicit) adultery and Dark Spells used. An affair to remember Surbiton, London, March 1979
She knew it was wrong. She was married. Even if her marriage was unhappy and her husband was cold, it was wrong. It was everything she’d been taught to despise, everything she’d been told to avoid.
Yet she couldn’t stop. Ever since that chance meeting, when Narcissa had felt the need to flee her husband’s oppressive presence, his worsening and deranged rants about killing all muggles and muggleborns and encountered Joyce sketching outside the gates of the Manor. She had been able to see the house, but not known what it was. Narcissa had been intrigued. Joyce couldn’t do magic, but she could see it. Eventually Narcissa decided that Joyce was some sort of Squib, but not of a wizarding line, of a muggle one.
By then she’s already been in too deep, in love too much to do the rational thing and walk away.
Joyce was like a drug, the most potent drug she’d ever tasted. Not that she’d tasted many. Mostly alcoholic beverages, with a few of the more harmless yet still illicit potions brewed while she was still at Hogwarts. Severus had brewed some of them for her, with a knowing smile just playing around his lips. As much as Severus smiled anyway.
She’d seen Lucius under the influence of drugs, and of Dark magic, which apparently gave an incredible high, as well as a terrifying low. She was not going to use Dark Magic. The Blacks were unstable enough, witness her elder sister Bellatrix. Bella hadn’t exactly been the most stable of the three of them, but recently it had become clear that Bella was slipping further and further into insanity.
Not that what Narcissa was doing was not insane. *If they catch me, I will die. Horribly and gruesomely.*
She took a deep breath and opened the door of the suburban semi-detached house. It was a quaint place and though it had good connection to London’s centre, it was rather far out off the way for most students, who preferred to be closer to the happening places.
The student who was saving a lot of money by house-sitting this house for friends of her parents was sitting on the couch, reading a book, her long, blonde curls caught in a loose ponytail and her expression thoughtful. She looked up at the opening of the door and smiled broadly.
“Narcissa? I didn’t think you could make it tonight.”
Narcissa took off her cloak and hung it on one of the hooks by the door, next to a rather garishly coloured waterproof.
“This really is not a good colour for you, beloved,” Narcissa chided.
“Yes. But people can see it in the dark and I do want to keep up jogging and cycling,” Joyce pointed out. “And in the dark, nobody can see my face.”
Narcissa clucked. “Still. There are many more enjoyable and easier ways to keep once weight down.”
“Non available to us common mortals. And I really doubt those potions that allow you to drop a few… stone?” Joyce ventured and Narcissa smiled and nodded, signalling she’d used the word correctly, “A few stone in minutes is healthy.”
“Severus will be so disappointed,” Narcissa made a moue and sat next to Joyce and gently reached out to touch her face, running her fingertips over her cheekbones and towards her mouth. “You are so incredibly beautiful,” Narcissa whispered.
Joyce shivered, then brought her own hand up and trailed her fingers down from Narcissa’s hairline, to her nose, across her mouth, her chin, back up her jaw to slowly trace the outside of her ear. “And you’re magnificent,” she whispered back. Narcissa leaned in and Joyce caught her lips with her own, then buried her hands in Narcissa’s hair and kissed her deeply, one hand going down the other woman’s back to press her even closer while Narcissa brought her own hands up to clasp Joyce’s upper arms.
They parted, panting and flushed. “Bedroom?” Narcissa whispered.
Joyce nodded and rose, taking the shorter woman’s hand and dragging her up and towards the stairs.
Narcissa laughed. “Impatient, beloved?”
Joyce smiled. “Like you wouldn’t believe. Come.”
Narcissa smiled back and suddenly hauled Joyce back into her arms, kissing her again. Once she was done kissing her lover, for now, she smirked. “Many, many times, I’m sure.”
Joyce rolled her eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”
“But you love me anyway,” Narcissa teased.
“That much is true,” Joyce smiled. “Now, I’m bigger than you, stronger than you and…” she held her hand up and Narcissa gasped in shock as Joyce held the wand she’d slipped into a pocket of her robes. “I’ve got your wand.”
Joyce grinned evilly. “And since you admitted to being ‘pants at wandless spells’, that means you’re mine to play with, Cissy.”
“How…?” Narcissa lunged for her wand, but as Joyce said, she was bigger and stronger and suddenly she found herself rather helplessly draped against her lover as Joyce somehow managed to trip her a little.
“I’ve always had quick fingers,” Joyce smirked.
“That, I know,” Narcissa whispered. “Oh, very well. You’re in charge tonight. But I though you liked my wandwork?”
Joyce sniggered. “Oh, I do. But tonight, I will be the one wielding the wand first…” she grabbed Narcissa’s arm again and dragged her up the stairs. Narcissa followed willingly.
“That was wonderful,” Narcissa muttered a little dazedly.
Joyce looked up from her position between her legs and licked her lips, smirking. “I think the neighbours know that, love.”
Narcissa smiled at the ceiling and levered herself onto her elbows. “My silencing spell from last time is still up. The neighbours are still completely innocent as to the skill of your tongue and fingers.”
Joyce pouted. “And I was so looking forward to discussing that over the hedge…”
Narcissa snorted. “Having seen them, I think their heads would probably explode.”
“Oh, I think Tom and Barbara would probably appreciate it,” she giggled. “Margot would probably ask for tips for Jerry, after acting suitably horrified for a minute or two…” Joyce dipped her head again and Narcissa gasped.
“W-want me to return the favour?” she managed after a minute or two of delightful convulsions.
Joyce’s expression was a mix of guilt, longing and excitement. “Uummm. Later. Yes. But first…” She reached over into the nightstand and retrieved what looked like a leather dog harness and…
Narcissa blinked, then her eyes widened. “What on Merlin’s green earth is that?”
Joyce blushed. “I saw it in a shop. Errr. It’s called a strap-on…”
Narcissa’s expression became one of calculation. “I see… Do I get to return that favour as well?”
Joyce grinned. “If you can still move after I’m done with you, yes.”
Narcissa snorted, “Hubris, my little American?”
Joyce merely smiled.
******************************************** Malfoy Manor, three days later
Narcissa was kneeling, trembling, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and trying not to see the blood in the vomit she’d just deposited on the marble floor of the drawing room. Her husband stood beside her, wand in hand and waved it negligently.
“Crucio,” he almost whispered. Narcissa didn’t scream, but the convulsions were enough to send her crashing back to the floor.
He only kept it up for seconds. Then he leaned in. “It’s a pity I need the Black alliance. Otherwise I would kill you, or whip you within an inch of your dirty, muggle-loving life and leave you on their doorstep with an exact accounting of your disgusting and unnatural behaviour,” he kicked her in the ribs. “Regrettably I do need the alliance and so does the Dark Lord. So here is what is going to happen.”
He gestured at the vomit and it vanished. He sat down in his big armchair and smiled. “I visited your little muggle today. We had quite a bit of fun. Well, I had. And I put a little spell on her. She will forget about you, me the magical world. And if she ever finds out again… it will kill her. It will cook her brain, slowly and surely. It may take a few years, but as soon as any mention of magic is made, she will start to change, alter, become irrational and unable to control her emotions. And then she will die.”
He laughed. “And you will know that she exists and never be able to see her again, because my dear ‘wife’… Crucio” she screamed as Lucius held the much more powerful Crucio on her, this time for longer. “Are far too fond of your magic and life’s little luxuries to abandon it for her.”
He waved his wand again and she screamed again, sobbing, her fingers spasmodically trying to grasp the carpet, just out of her reach, so that at least there would be some reality in her pain. “You will obey my every command and do whatever I want you to do. You will submit to me, completely. No longer will you deny me anything by saying it is below the dignity of a Black.”
He leaned forward and lifted her chin with his wand. His eyes were cold and merciless. “Do you understand me, Narcissa? Do you understand, slave?
Narcissa nodded. And as her eyes closed and she heard him discard his robes and spell hers off her, she saw only the face of her love. End Note: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Harry Potter, nor do I own the Good Life.