#cissatrix

(Dis)Embodied

In the new millennia, Hermione is thriving at the DMLE together with Harry and Ron. All that remains of her cursed scar is a dull ache she’s able to manage— until, on a day as any other, her fingers accidentally brush Narcissa Malfoy’s at the Ministry, re-awakening a twisted obsession Hermione never asked to inherit.

Rating: Explicit | Graphic Depictions of Violence

the endless, coarse black mass writhed against her scalp like a living thing, each strand contracting, transforming the texture; she could almost feel it happening follicle by follicle as the the wild, matted tangles smoothed out, lightened. The weight of it, changing, becoming bushy brown curls. The transformation crept down the length of the strands now, like a slow-motion film of black ink dissolving in water, running backwards back into the bottle. Forty-two seconds. That’s all it ever took.

This circumstance had left all of the Malfoys feeling rather.. out of control. Like at any moment something horrific could take place, be it by the hands of Aurors infiltrating their home and seizing the Lestranges, or indeed by Bellatrix herself, who had become ever more volatile during her lengthy imprisonment. It'd been three weeks now. Once strikingly beautiful, the middle-aged witch was only a ghost of her former glory. A stark reminder. Yes, some of her beauty still remained in tact. Hair still black like ink, heavy with thick. Lips full, eyes dark and sultry. Important wits had been preserved, too. Yet it was obvious just how much Bella's psyche had suffered.

By the time Bellatrix dragged herself out of bed to haunt down the stairs on her tip toes and join the rest of the family, it was noon. She would find Rodolphus, Narcissa, Draco and Lucius sat around the table. Narcissa's ice blues pierced her sister exhibiting disapproval. Bellatrix scoffed, stretching and yawning rather obnoxiously still in her night gown and hair a mess of tangles as she padded through the dining hall in bare feet. Crossing behind Draco, the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up when he smelled hit aunt's perfume then felt her arm around him and her lips on his cheek. "Morning, little Dragon." Instantly, his eyes shot to his mother. At the head of the table, Lucius shifted uncomfortably. Just her presence alone could render a room tense enough to cut. "Bellatrix. So nice you've decided to join us. At.. What is it, half past noon?" Lucius said, watching her closely, full of judgement. "Awwe, well thanks, Lucy! You've always been an artist when it comes to hospitality." Bellatrix snapped back words dripping in sarcasm. Rodolphus, who hadn't much to say at all since their return snorted out a half-laugh at this. "I was up late, wanker." Bella sat herself down in the empty chair next to Narcissa, wasting no time in pulling the blonde in for an embrace nearly dragging Narcissa right off her chair. "Cissy. Oh, good morning my sweet." Bella squeezed the other witch and pet her hair affectionately. It did feel rather inappropriate in timing, especially given the fact Narcissa had just picked up her fork. "What have you prepared for me today, hm?" One of many requests Bellatrix made was that Narcissa do all the cooking, just for a while. Bella had missed her cooking and the elves just didn't do it the same. Bella held Narcissa close and rocked her back and forth placing quick little kisses all over the side of her temple, whispering in a child-like voice. "I hope you've not forgotten about my chocolate cake."

A Black Tea Party

Narcissa shivered at the command, settling herself between Bellatrix’s legs without hesitation. Her hands gripped her thighs, caressing them before pressing a kiss to one knee. The anticipation was killing her; as she worked her mouth up the inside of Bellatrix’s thigh, Narcissa couldn’t help but glance up at her sister.

Bella was nothing less than a goddess atop her throne, and she would do anything to please her. She licked along her folds, delving between them with her tongue before circling the bundle of nerves just above them. Her own cunt ached as she ate Bellatrix out, praying Bella might give her permission to finger herself soon.