Well, that was going to be even more unfortunate for him by the end of this class...
...Narcissa stayed where she was until the last of the third-years scraped their chairs back and filed out.
The man wearing Gilderoy Lockhart's face turned toward her. The real Lockhart would have dragged his eyes down her chest and pretended he hadn't. This one didn't even look. He gave her a flat, dismissive stare.
"That will be all, woman," he said with a clipped tone.
She clicked her tongue in irritation. "Actually, sir, I wondered if I could have a moment of your time," she said, keeping her tone polite.
He exhaled through his nose like she'd inconvenienced him. "Fine. What is it, woman? I happen to have a very busy day ahead," the man wearing Gilderoy's face said.
"Oh, it's nothing too important," she lied.
"Since you're such an amazing wizard, I wanted to ask for your help on a spell I've been wanting to teach the students-oops!" She "accidently" let her wand slip from her fingers. It hit the flagstones with a small, sharp clack and spun once before settling. She did not bend to pick it up. She kept her hands open and visible at her sides and her eyes on his face.
"Stupid clumsy woman! Teach yourself, I'm too busy to deal with those brats and you!" His gaze flicked to the wand on the floor, then away. He turned his back on her, reaching to straighten the jar of spiders and the scattered parchment on his desk as if the conversation bored him already.
That was all she needed, him dismissing her as a weak woman and letting his guard down.
She raised her left hand, palm angled at the center of his shoulder blades, and cast. "Stupefy," she said coldly. She loved being a devil, being able to cast without a wand and just her imagination. Plus, being a bishop gave her so much more magic to play with!
The red bolt punched into him between the shoulder and spine. His body locked and dropped. He went down hard, cheek and ribs hitting stone with a heavy, flat sound. One leg twitched once and stilled.
Narcissa crossed the space in three strides. She kicked his wand out from under his right hand and sent it skittering beneath the front row of desks. She rolled him onto his back by the shoulder, checked his eyes-fixed and unfocused-and pressed two fingers to the side of his neck. He was unconscious.
She drew a tight circle in the air with two fingers and dropped a silencing ward over the room, then latched the door with a locking charm keyed to her signature. She flicked her wrist. Thick, conjured cords snapped around his wrists and ankles, wrenching them together behind his back. She added a second set above and below the knees so he couldn't lever himself to his feet even if he woke. A plain cloth gag followed, tied behind his head and knotted high so he couldn't spit it out easily.
Only then did she crouch and pat him down, quick and thorough-sleeves, pockets, robe lining, belt. She found a small pewter hip flask warm from his body, a folded scrap with Times and doses, and two short, pale hairs stuck to the cork.
Polyjuice. Of course it was. She pocketed the flask and the hairs.
"Pathetic," she muttered while straightening herself out.
Narcissa lifted her hand again and traced a thin line of devil magic through the air, sending a silent signal along the Sitri crest to Tonks and then a second pulse for her king Harry. "Classroom secure," the pulse conveyed. "Target down."
— Harry —
My beautiful MILF bishop Narcissa was looking extremely pleased with herself when Tonks and I walked into the classroom. She stood casually beside the prone, tied-up figure on the stone floor, one delicate hand resting confidently on her hip as she watched us approach.
I crossed straight over to Narcissa, slid an arm around her waist, and leaned down to press a quick but firm kiss to her lush lips. She responded immediately, opening her mouth just slightly beneath mine, her tongue lightly brushing mine in greeting. Tonks made an awkward cough and blushed visibly next to us, clearly embarrassed at watching her aunt openly kiss me like that.
Breaking our kiss slowly, Narcissa flashed me a smug, satisfied smile as her blue eyes glittered with quiet pride. "As you can see, Harry dear, I've already handled our little imposter problem," she said smoothly, gesturing dismissively at the bound man lying unconscious on the floor.
I glanced downward. His skin was already bubbling grotesquely, visibly rippling and shifting beneath the surface. That meant the Polyjuice Potion was nearly finished running its course, and the imposter's borrowed face would vanish any moment now.
Tonks crouched carefully next to the bound man, peering closely at his bubbling, twisting features with a look of cautious curiosity. She glanced back up at Narcissa and asked, "Any guesses who he is beneath Lockhart's face, Aunt Cissa?"
Narcissa gave a small, elegant shrug of her shoulders, looking mildly annoyed that she couldn't immediately identify him. "I'm not completely certain yet. But I suspect it's one of Voldemort's former followers," she said coldly. "He certainly behaved like one. Rude, arrogant, and utterly foolish."
"How'd you take him down so quickly and cleanly?" I asked, impressed with how efficiently she'd dealt with this. My hand was still resting lightly on her waist, and I gave her side a gentle squeeze of affection and appreciation. Narcissa leaned comfortably into my side.
She smiled wickedly, blue eyes glinting with clear amusement. "The arrogant bastard completely dismissed me. I pretended to drop my wand like some silly, helpless woman. He immediately turned his back on me, obviously thinking I was nothing more than Lucius's weak and pathetic housewife. So I blasted him right in the spine." She gave a soft, satisfied sigh. "He never saw it coming."
I chuckled appreciatively, pulling Narcissa slightly closer into my side and letting my hand drift lower, fingertips brushing possessively along the curve of her hip and the swell of her ass through her robes. "You're far more than some weak housewife," I whispered approvingly into her ear, voice low and heated. "You're my incredibly beautiful and sexy bishop."
"Damn right I am," Narcissa purred proudly, eyes shining with satisfaction. Her delicate cheeks flushed faintly with pleasure at my praise.
We both returned our attention to the bound man just as his bubbling transformation finally began to fade away. The stolen features of Gilderoy Lockhart melted away completely, leaving the imposter's real face plainly visible beneath.
Tonks and I exchanged confused looks. Neither of us recognized the man lying bound and gagged before us. He was older, perhaps around Narcissa's own age, with gaunt, angular features, thinning dirty blond hair, and a thin mouth twisted into an unconscious scowl.
I glanced quickly toward Narcissa. Her beautiful face had gone pale, eyes widening in clear recognition and surprise.
"You know him?" I asked sharply, alert and wary again.
"Unfortunately, yes," she said bitterly. Narcissa stared down at the bound man's face with clear disgust etched onto her beautiful features, lips curling in distaste. "His name is Barty Crouch Junior," she said.
Tonks jerked slightly in shock, her eyes widening with disbelief. "Barty Junior? But-that can't be right! He was supposed to have died in Azkaban years ago!"
Narcissa's expression darkened further. "That's precisely what I thought as well," she said coolly. "Clearly, someone was deceived-or bribed-to cover up his survival. Barty Crouch Junior was infamous, even among the Death Eaters. He was one of the cruelest, most depraved individuals the Dark Lord ever recruited."
Tonks swallowed visibly, shifting nervously. "What do you mean?"
"I remember him at Hogwarts," Narcissa continued bitterly, staring hatefully at the unconscious man lying at her feet. "Even as a child, Barty took pleasure in cruelty. He thrived on intimidation and torture. There were dark, terrible rumors surrounding him-pets disappearing and found mutilated, students mysteriously injured in disturbing 'accidents.' He only became worse with age. Once he joined the Dark Lord, Barty reveled in committing unspeakable atrocities. The most gruesome, grisly crimes in the war could easily be attributed to this man."
A shiver of revulsion crept down my spine at Narcissa's description. My expression hardened into something dangerous, and I cast one last cold look toward the unconscious imposter before turning away. "I'm sure my mother Serafall will be very happy to interrogate him, then," I growled darkly, disgust clear in my voice.
I turned sharply, striding quickly from the classroom, Narcissa and Tonks trailing closely behind. Narcissa carefully locked and warded the classroom again, ensuring Barty Jr. stayed firmly secured and silenced until someone arrived to collect him. We had far more pressing concerns now-namely, locating the real Lockhart, assuming he was even still alive.
We stepped quickly into the imposter's adjacent office, eyes immediately scanning the cluttered space for anything unusual or suspicious. The office was neatly organized-far more neatly than the real Lockhart had ever kept it-and at first glance, nothing immediately jumped out as unusual.
But then I saw on the floor, sitting innocently next to the desk, was a large, heavy wooden trunk.
A trunk that had suddenly begun shaking violently, muffled shouting clearly audible from within!
I stared down incredulously at the trunk as its occupant banged desperately against the inside. "No way," I said slowly. "There's no fucking way Barty was actually stupid enough to keep the real Lockhart trapped in a trunk in his own damn office, right? I mean-what if someone just randomly stopped by to see him?"
Narcissa scoffed disdainfully, rolling her blue eyes. "Death Eaters were always exceedingly cruel," she said dryly. "But intelligent planning was never their strength."
With another lazy flick of her hand, the trunk sprang open.
Immediately, a loud, grateful cry erupted from somewhere deep inside the magically expanded interior. "Oh, thank God-a rescue party at last!"
I flinched sharply at Lockhart's unfortunate choice of words. Beside me, Narcissa and Tonks visibly cringed as well, clearly feeling the sharp stab of pain brought on by the casual mention of the Christian deity.
"Bloody hell," Tonks hissed irritably through gritted teeth, rubbing her temple. "I'll never get used to that word hurting me now!"
"Yes, yes, we're here," Narcissa snapped impatiently down at the trunk, annoyed at the unintended pain he had caused us. "Just stop shouting and stay quiet a moment longer, Lockhart, while we find a way to pull you out."
"Oh!" Lockhart's voice responded immediately, sounding sheepish and slightly embarrassed. "Apologies-terribly rude of me. I'll wait quietly right here then! Very grateful, truly!"
...Gilderoy Lockhart turned toward me, smoothing down his robes and attempting to regain some measure of dignity despite the fact he'd been locked inside a trunk for Merlin knows how long.
Only a couple days actually, he got pretty lucky...
He glanced around at his office with clear distaste at all the changes his imposter made to the place, then directed a grateful-but clearly fake-smile toward me.
"Well, Harry my boy, I must say-this has been a dreadfully unpleasant experience. I simply cannot believe a famous wizard such as myself was subjected to this indignity! Thank you ever so much for the daring rescue!" Lockhart's expression shifted abruptly, and he eyed me thoughtfully. "I suppose you'll want some sort of compensation or favor in return for freeing me, yes? Perhaps an autographed photo? A free copy of my latest bestseller?"
"Actually, Lockhart," I said flatly, cutting him off sharply before he could continue his self-centered rambling, "what I really want is your absolute silence about this entire incident."
He blinked rapidly, surprised and slightly offended. "Silence? But surely the world deserves to know about the heroic rescue of such a famous wizard-"
"Not a word," I interrupted coldly, my voice dangerous now. I stepped closer to him, looming slightly and meeting his suddenly nervous gaze head-on. "And-you're going to resign immediately, Lockhart. You're going to quietly disappear from this castle and never breathe a single word about what happened here at Hogwarts."
Lockhart hesitated, his eyes flicking uncertainly between me and Narcissa and Tonks standing silently behind me. Narcissa had crossed her arms beneath her generous chest, her blue eyes icy with contempt. Tonks, meanwhile, glared openly at him.
Finally, Lockhart seemed to realize exactly how thin the ice beneath him truly was. He sighed dramatically. "Very well, Harry, I suppose I can agree to your terms. Frankly, I've had enough of this bloody school anyway. I came here expecting adoring fans and easy conquests-but none of these beautiful young witches have been willing to put out for a famous man like me! What a bunch of frigid little teases!" Lockhart continued grumbling bitterly to himself, utterly oblivious to the dark looks we were giving him.
"Fine," I snapped irritably, unwilling to listen to another second of his whining. "Just leave your resignation letter for Dumbledore on your desk. Tonks will be the one escorting your sorry ass quietly out of the castle."
Tonks shot me a disbelieving look, mouth falling open in clear protest at the thought of having to spend even a few minutes alone with him. I gave her a sympathetic, apologetic glance in return, silently promising to make it up to her later.
"Come on, Lockhart," Tonks growled impatiently, grabbing his arm roughly and dragging him toward the desk. "Write the damn letter quickly. And don't even think about causing me any trouble on the way out, or I'll hex your balls right off."
Lockhart's eyes widened in alarm at her threat, and he hastily scrawled out a quick resignation letter, his hands trembling slightly. He signed it with a dramatic flourish and placed it carefully in the center of his desk.
"Done!" he said brightly, his usual false charm resurfacing instantly. "Shall we, my dear?"
Tonks merely tightened her grip on his arm painfully, scowling darkly. "Keep your mouth shut, and let's just get this over with already."
As Tonks escorted Lockhart forcefully out of the office, Narcissa stepped gracefully to my side, watching the irritating man vanish from sight with obvious relief. "Thank Merlin we won't have to listen to his self-important rambling any longer," she muttered, shaking her head with clear distaste. And then her eyes lit up. "And now I am Professor Narcissa Black!"
I gave her a sultry, playful look. "Oh, Professor Black, what exactly do you have in mind now?"
