"Narcissa?" Hermione repeated softly, thoughtfully. "I don't think I've heard that name before? Where did she come from? She's obviously too mature to be a student? Did you poach a member of the staff from Beauxbatons?"
Sona then spoke up, stepping slightly closer with her usual composed expression. "Harry, it's obviously not my place to tell you how you should acquire the members of your peerage. But, judging by the fact that you've never once mentioned this woman to any of us, I have to assume you haven't known her for very long at all."
Of course, my beautiful and intelligent Aunt Sona would have immediately picked up on that detail. I awkwardly scratched the back of my head, suddenly feeling every pair of female eyes locked curiously onto me.
"Well..." I started hesitantly, "the truth is, I actually just met Narcissa a couple of hours ago."
Hermione blinked, looking baffled, while Sona raised a skeptical eyebrow. Lyra and Lyna leaned in closer, exchanging excited, knowing grins.
"I don't know," I continued quickly, trying not to fidget under their scrutiny. "We just, um, kind of clicked, I guess? She was really upset and in a bad place. I offered to help her out of it, and one thing led to another."
Lyra and Lyna both gave soft squeals of delight at my explanation, hugging my arms tightly from each side. I felt the gentle, distracting pressure of their full, soft bodies pressed firmly against me as they cuddled close.
"Oh, Master Harry," Lyra purred sweetly, rubbing her cheek affectionately against my shoulder. "You're always so kind-hearted and noble!"
"Yes!" Lyna chimed in happily, squeezing my arm closer into her ample chest. "Our young Master is truly generous!"
Hermione rolled her eyes dramatically at their overly affectionate display, stepping closer herself. She fixed me with an adorable pout and a cute, mock glare. "Harry Sitri," she said firmly, crossing her arms under her chest, unintentionally accentuating her newly enhanced figure beneath her robes. "You're obviously hiding some important details here."
"No doubt about that," Sona agreed, giving a soft sigh and adjusting her glasses. Her vivid pink eyes met mine intently beneath the reflective lenses, clearly telling me she knew I was holding something back. "Harry, tell us the truth now-who exactly is this Narcissa woman?"
I hesitated again, feeling a tiny drop of nervous sweat forming at my temple. I glanced carefully between Sona and Hermione. "Do you two promise not to get mad?" I asked cautiously.
Hermione's expression immediately softened. She took a step closer and placed a reassuring hand gently on my chest. "Harry, I could never really be mad at you," she said honestly, giving me a soft, loving smile. "Just be honest."
I gave Hermione a grateful nod before turning nervously toward Sona. She simply raised an amused eyebrow, a small smirk twitching at the corner of her lips. "I promise nothing," she said in a surprisingly playful tone.
I took a deep breath, preparing myself mentally. Then, deciding to rip the bandage off quickly, I blurted out, "Her name is Narcissa Malfoy. She's Draco Malfoy's mom."
For a brief, silent moment, time seemed to freeze entirely.
Hermione's face completely blanked-her eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. She stood there utterly frozen, seemingly unable to fully process what she'd just heard.
Lyra and Lyna instantly tensed beside me, their arms still tightly wrapped around my own. Their bright, playful expressions had suddenly turned guarded, eyes widening slightly as they absorbed my shocking revelation.
And Sona opened her mouth slightly in stunned disbelief. She quickly closed it again, blinked rapidly behind her glasses, and then opened her mouth once more. Before I could react further, she finally blurted out something I never expected to hear from her dignified lips.
"WHAT THE FUCK, HARRY?!"
— Narcissa —
Narcissa slowly fluttered her eyes open. She stared blankly at a ceiling she did not recognize. For a moment, panic surged through her chest.
Where was she? What was going on?
She quickly sat upright, her heart beating faster. Looking around carefully, she saw that she was lying in an extremely lavish bedroom. The decorations and furnishings around her were incredibly luxurious and expensive, far grander and more opulent than even her own chambers back in Malfoy Manor.
The bed beneath her was massive and incredibly comfortable. Narcissa slowly slid off the edge, her bare feet touching the softest plush carpet she'd ever felt. As she steadied herself, she glanced around nervously. Relief washed over her when she noticed her wand placed neatly on a nearby nightstand.
She quickly stepped forward and picked it up, clutching it tightly in her delicate fingers. Immediately feeling a little calmer with her wand back in her possession, Narcissa paused to inspect herself more closely.
She ran her eyes slowly down her figure, noting that her robes were still immaculate. Clearly, nothing untoward had happened to her while she was unconscious. But how had she ended up here?
She struggled to remember what had happened. For a moment, her mind felt fuzzy, confused, but then it all came flooding back with sudden clarity. She remembered running into the young, attractive boy-Harry Sitri-in Hogwarts after discovering Draco's disgraceful behavior and her husband's twisted and vile conversation.
Her pale cheeks immediately flushed pink with embarrassment as she remembered the conversation they'd had. Narcissa couldn't believe that she had basically spilled all of her life's problems and secrets onto Harry, openly confessing her most shameful family matters to a boy who should've been her enemy.
Even if Harry Sitri was extremely handsome and charismatic...
She pursed her lips. But then she remembered something else. Harry had listened to her patiently, kindly. He'd offered her help, hadn't he? Some strange, fantastical promise to free her-to somehow change her magic so she could escape Lucius and the suffocating magical marriage contract that kept her trapped in a life of misery.
She glanced around again, suddenly nervous but hopeful. Had that actually happened? Had Harry truly done something extraordinary for her?
Narcissa turned slightly, noticing a large full-length mirror positioned elegantly against the far wall. Curiosity compelled her to slowly step closer. When she finally looked fully into her reflection, she gasped out loud.
Narcissa had always been quite vain as a proud, pureblood woman. She knew very well how beautiful she was-even after becoming a mother. But what she saw reflected in the polished mirror was even more perfect and captivating than she'd ever imagined herself.
Her skin had become utterly flawless, smooth and creamy-white with no blemish or line visible at all. Her face had subtly changed, becoming more refined and breathtakingly beautiful. Her lips had filled out slightly, looking fuller, softer, and a deeper, naturally alluring shade of red.
She stared lower, eyes widening further. Her breasts were perfectly shaped, lifted higher and more prominently beneath her robes. They appeared even larger and fuller than before, with not a hint of sagging. Hesitantly, Narcissa brought her hand up and gently cupped her chest, gasping softly at the unexpected sensitivity of her own touch.
A small, startled moan escaped her lips before she could stop it. Her cheeks instantly turned bright red again. "Since when were they ever this sensitive?" she murmured in confusion.
Unable to resist, Narcissa carefully ran her hands slowly down her body, feeling every graceful curve and soft contour beneath her robes. Every inch of her figure felt subtly yet distinctly enhanced, as though she were now the absolute pinnacle of feminine perfection.
"What exactly happened to me?" Narcissa whispered breathlessly, staring again into the mesmerizing beauty of her reflection.
...
The door to the bedroom suddenly swung open, startling Narcissa from her fascinated exploration of her new, sensitive body. Her cheeks turned bright red as she realized she'd basically been groping herself in front of the mirror, completely unaware of her surroundings. She quickly pulled her hands away from her chest and turned toward the door in embarrassment. Her heart raced slightly as she wondered who had entered so suddenly. When her eyes finally landed on the person standing in the doorway, Narcissa's breath caught in surprise.
Standing there was an incredibly beautiful woman with long, silky blonde hair and striking, piercing eyes behind a pair of stylish glasses. The woman wore an impeccably tailored female business suit that reminded Narcissa vaguely of what fashionable muggle women wore these days. But one thing was crystal clear-this woman was certainly no muggle.
Narcissa didn't understand exactly how she knew it, but she instinctively sensed an overwhelming power radiating off the woman. Her presence was so strong it felt tangible, pressing gently but unmistakably against Narcissa's senses.
Feeling awkward under the woman's silent gaze, Narcissa cleared her throat nervously and straightened her robes.
"Um... hello," Narcissa began hesitantly, still blushing slightly as she tried to maintain her dignity. "Could you please tell me who you are? And... where exactly am I? What happened to me?"
The stunning blonde woman frowned slightly, stepping gracefully into the room with elegant yet confident strides. Her high heels clicked lightly against the polished floor as she moved closer to Narcissa. "My name is Behemoth," the woman introduced herself calmly. Her voice was smooth and professional, carrying an unmistakable air of authority. "I am the Queen serving Lady Serafall Leviathan."
Narcissa blinked blankly at the unfamiliar name, tilting her head slightly in confusion. "And... who exactly is that supposed to be?" Narcissa asked carefully, feeling a bit lost.
Behemoth paused, staring at Narcissa for a long second before letting out a loud, exaggerated sigh. She lifted one perfectly manicured hand and rubbed her forehead in apparent exasperation. "Of course," Behemoth muttered dryly to herself. "You know absolutely nothing about the real world."
Narcissa frowned slightly at the other woman's blunt comment, crossing her arms defensively beneath her chest. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Narcissa asked sharply, her pureblood pride stirring slightly beneath her confusion.
Behemoth raised one delicate eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by Narcissa's attempt at indignation. She adjusted her glasses calmly before meeting Narcissa's eyes with an amused yet faintly condescending expression.
"It means precisely what I said," Behemoth replied coolly. "You've spent your entire life locked inside your sheltered little wizarding world, oblivious to reality beyond it. Lady Serafall Leviathan is one of the Four Great Satans, an immensely powerful devil who rules over a portion of the Underworld. And you, Narcissa Malfoy, have just become a devil yourself. A servant to Lady Serafall's son, Harry Sitri."
Narcissa stared at Behemoth in stunned disbelief. She had heard each word clearly, but her mind struggled to comprehend what she'd just been told.
"A... devil?" she finally repeated softly. "I've become a devil?"
Behemoth gave a small, curt nod.
More memories suddenly surged back into Narcissa's mind, vivid and clear. She recalled the conversation she'd had with Harry Sitri, just before everything went dark. She saw it again clearly in her mind's eye. Harry had held some kind of chess piece. He'd looked deeply into her eyes, with that confident, charming gaze of his, and asked her if she wanted to "do something stupid" with him.
Narcissa remembered feeling confused, yet strangely excited, as Harry explained what he meant. He'd told her gently that this strange act would grant her the freedom she'd always desperately craved. But there would be a price, he'd warned her. She would have to give up her humanity in exchange.
At the time, Narcissa honestly thought Harry had been kidding. She assumed it was merely a playful fantasy-something meant to distract her from her misery and pain for a few fleeting minutes. She had agreed to his proposal more as a joke than anything serious, simply wanting to indulge in the comforting illusion of escaping her harsh reality. Even as she'd said yes, she vividly remembered imagining herself running away to a better life with a handsome, younger man who genuinely cared about her happiness. For the briefest moment, she'd allowed herself to dream-of a passionate, thrilling romance with someone who would treat her with real kindness and affection.
And now, Narcissa glanced down at her flawless skin, felt the sensitivity of her enhanced body-was it actually real?
She had escaped Lucius Malfoy. She was no longer human...?
As she thought that sentence, she heard a whoosh behind her. She turned her head to see a pair of large bat wings sticking out behind her back.
"I suppose I can no longer call myself a Pureblood," Narcissa muttered softly to herself. Oddly enough, she didn't feel as bad about that as she'd expected. After all, she'd long been willing to give up practically anything to escape Lucius's grasp.
Behemoth overheard her quiet remark and snorted loudly in amusement, causing Narcissa to glance up curiously.
"Pureblood?" Behemoth said with a mocking tone. "That's freaking hilarious, considering witches and wizards don't even know the truth about themselves."
"What exactly do you mean by that?" she asked hesitantly.
Behemoth adjusted her glasses. "Human beings, as a race, do not naturally possess magic," Behemoth began evenly. "A pure human-an actual pureblood human-is utterly incapable of using magic at all. The only reason witches and wizards exist is because somewhere in their ancestry, one of their human ancestors obviously fornicated with a magical creature."
Narcissa's eyes widened sharply at the blunt explanation. She blinked rapidly, trying to process this shocking revelation.
Behemoth continued, unfazed by her reaction. "Every wizard or witch alive today is descended, at some point, from creatures with magic. Some have devil blood in their ancestry. Others may have angels, goblins, dragons, Veela, or even the Fae. But there's one thing that you witches and wizards definitely are not," Behemoth said firmly, crossing her arms. "You are not Pureblood humans." She finished her words with another small snort of amusement.
Narcissa felt her mouth fall open slightly, utterly speechless. This knowledge effectively shattered Narcissa's entire worldview. She had grown up in the elite, proud Pureblood Black family, taught from birth about the superiority of her bloodline. Now she was suddenly confronted with the shocking truth that everything she'd learned was essentially a lie. Narcissa stood there silently, trying to imagine how her proud parents, Cygnus and Druella Black, would react if they heard this startling revelation. She pictured the look of horror and disbelief on their noble, arrogant faces, and she felt a sudden unexpected urge to laugh.
