The Pureblood Coup

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Continuation of….


Chapter Twelve: Astronomy Domine


Underneath the celestial domed ceiling of the oval-shaped ballroom-theater was Voldemort near the center sitting on a simple throne made of gold, his cope of crescent moon embroidery out behind him. He nodded towards his left at Lucius.

“Ladies and gentlemen: ‘The Queen,’ said Lucius in a constrained voice, rid of emotion once he had tipped his wand to his throat so that it had the sonorous charm to magnify it. And Lucius, at Voldemort’s second nod to do as Voldemort had planned, tapped his serpent-head pimp cane against the Unbreakable glass floor.

Suddenly the enormous long stage was lit by a spotlight like a patch of moonlight and the music from the organs began again, this time with a different song, a slow mournful tune. Narcissa was in the center in a circle of a spotlight that was like moonlight shining upon her. Narcissa looked plain, but also the mysterious mistress in it, herself furthered by standing beneath the stars of the ceiling.

The crowd clapped surprisingly politely and respectively for Narcissa Malfoy. Narcissa did not look up proudly but hung her head to one side, her long white-blonde hair sweeping past her face, in which there was a glittering forehead band on her head, as if to signify her so-called “queen” status.

Suddenly something that looked like bubbles cascaded from the ceiling above. They were enchanted cages that had a starriness in them with an ambient blue light emanating.

They landed soundlessly on the stage, surrounding Narcissa’s circle of moonlight, all of them at the front. Seemingly as if on their own. The enchanted cages appeared to have living beings inside them.

The crowd stirred with curiosity, Draco rising from his seat and raising his forefinger up from his chin, pointing with a pensive look as he tried to place what the creatures were. They looked familiar. Draco was sure he had heard of them before.

And then, like eggs cracking shells open, the glowing starry blue cages came apart. Out of them came huge yellow-feathered birds with clothing just like Narcissa's. They squawked complaints, and their wings beat, yet they seemed incapable of flight.

The crowd began to roar with laughter, at the sight of Narcissa surrounded by them.

“Are those the queen’s ladies in waiting?,” jeered a random woman in the crowd.

“So much for the Malfoy’s courtly love!," a random man echoed from somewhere.

The five bird creatures heard the commotion, and they jumped in their webbed feet, transforming from shock at the sight of hundreds watching them. And suddenly the five birds were not birds, but they were revealed to be Veela all along.

The Veelas started to shake erratic in motion, waving their limbs wildly, causing a gust of wind to break through, which swept past the stage. It was a slight storm started in their anger.

But suddenly they were subdued and stopped moving all at once, which was strange for it’s abruptness. It was some of the Snatchers backstage whose job was to control the Veela through the Imperius Curse and they also had been the ones to descend the cages.

The Veela were now stationary, and they submissively complied forming a circle around Narcissa who was beautiful in the center. The mournful music began to pick up in beat. From up close one could see several cuts and bruises on the five Veelas, and they were rail-thin, almost emaciated. Yet it could only detract from their beauty up close, from a distance they were still alluring. The Veela captured last year had been brutally abused as sex slaves in the tallest pointed tower on Malfoy Manor. All of them were Beaubaton student alumni, their ages ranging from their twenties to forty-something.

Within seconds a sigh of pure contentment issued from most of the crowd. It was the men, becoming entranced by the Veela’s beauty.

Out of nowhere another individual came pattering out into the front of the stage, a dark-haired girl of eleven, her shoulder-length hair in natural curly ringlets. It was Desiree Dolohov who had been one of the kids from the nursery Draco played the prank on. She seemed to come out of nowhere, yet it was because she had sneaked backstage before.

She stood in front of Narcissa, almost reaching Narcissca’s chin, and complemented Narcissa's fair beauty. The little girl Desiree was quite the ham what with taking up the rest of Narcissa’s spotlight.

The mournful tone of the music issuing from the organ pipes behind the stage started to change, the music’s beat steadily growing faster.

The Veela began to dance around their circle of Narcissa, moving their bodies like snake seductors, as they sang a light, carefree whisper of nothings. Their narrow hips writhed in the see-through white robes, matching Narcissa’s costume. The feathered slippered feet of the Veela jutted out and gradually contorted their bodies outward away from Narcissa, who danced in her own circle, an accomplished dancer. Yet Narcissa did not need to train the Veela before. For tonight they had been kept like chattel inside the cages until the time came for them to perform.

As they contorted outward, the Veela seemed to signal to the men somehow and the men were now letting their wild desires show, under the Veela's enchantment. Most of them were yelling for the Veela in desperation, all inhibitions lost. Except Voldemort and Lucius and Snape. Lucius also kept hitting Draco, making him to stop looking at the Veela, stopping just before Draco could be entranced each time, by smacking the back of his body with the pimp cane.

As if a fan was blowing, the Veelas’ silver blonde hair was out flowing around their heart-shaped faces. For this was part of their magic and allure. The Veela dance flowed like water, but compared to Narcissa dancing in circles in the center with Desiree Dolohov following her like a ring-around-the-rosy circle, the Veela were but the lily pads of a placid pond.

Now the beat of the song was growing to a much faster rate and the Veela picked up momentum, their robes swirling faster, and their crystal jeweled fingers flashed like a wand fetish. Their bracelet nipple clamps glittering as well, in which Desiree who was flat-chested was not wearing any jewelry. She did not need boob bracelets as she did not have a cleavage, yet her girlish chest was exposed in the costume. The wrists turned of the Veela and Narcissa flipping her hands back, all the fingers flashing like a wand fetish.

The Veela continued to swirl faster and faster until they were nearly an unseen whirl, it was all part of their magical ability, which was dancing a type of dervish dance. Narcissa and Desiree (who resembled a miniature Bellatrix) could not keep up in time to the music that was the Veela's magical dance.

It seemed like all the men were in blissfully blank, mindless dazes. The ringed diamond fingers (except for thumbs) continued to flash, the boobs sticking out in the bracelet clamps and all the robes swirling. The men's response of catcalling and whistling. But the irony of the entire dance was that the three most powerful men in the room were not aroused. Lucius looked jealous and furious at all the men who were not admiring his wife. Snape a look of deep disgust upon him (he was secretely longing for Lily), and Voldemort only showing an interest in Narcissa that constantly varied between frightening intensity and impatient boredom. None of the three wished to notice the Veela, yet the hundreds of other wizards were enamored. The women just watched normally, or tried to distract their lovers.

The Snatchers, meanwhile stood with legs wide apart, looking harsh and severe. The “S” on their chests gleaming like snakes. Scabior, the Chief Snatcher kept going over to them and whispering censures. He was reminding them they were granted their own “fun, amusing entertainment” right afterward.

The Snatchers complied, remaining standing tall in high-boots, in the yellow and black uniform, with belts tight around their robes, and the “S” gleaming on the chests. Snatchers standing in the aisles and Snatchers standing on the deserted alcoves high above, all served as security guards against a possible riot.

And Voldemort sat at a throne made of plain gold, his long-fingered hands curled around the arm-rests, watching the dance with rapt attention, his red-eyed gaze directed with an intensity, a conscientious awareness about him concerning his people. Yet he kept glancing around, wanting this night to be over and to have Narcissa for himself.

And then there was Fenrir Greyback, the anomoly, neither a true “Snatcher” and neither a true “Death Eater”, but only the ostracized outcast. He hid in the last row of seats on the dance floor. Greyback was nodding off, lulled by the Veelas singing and dancing. His ceremonial robes were opened, and his dick was filling out with pre-cum liquid, having a wet dream, as he murmured moans of desires.

The Veela blanketed Narcissa in their veils, until she was unseen. And suddenly the Veela, despite deprived of wands lifted their hands up and Narcissa was levitated off the stage. She landed gently, ten feet below the stage, onto the floor.

The mournful music was starting again. Narcissa was in the center of the aisle, now. She ran the long trek in her feathered slippered feet and the boob bracelets with the crystal headdress band gleaming. Finally she got to the half-way point down the aisle. This was exactly how she had been instructed to do it.

She presented herself to Voldemort before his gold throne, throwing herself at him. She bowed, her face touching the glass floor, hands and knees pressed to the surface, and her small butt raised. She humbly kissed the top of the Dark Lord’s boots, and remained in the posture of total submission, face at his feet.

Voldemort looked simply thrilled. “I own you…,” he hissed at her low and dangerous.

And Narcissa, finally dared to raise herself, and knelt with head and hands free of being on the floor. She turned her head to her left, and looked at Snape beseechingly, as he was a few feet away at the end of the front row sitting to Voldemort's right. One large tear like a precious diamond dropped, plunking off her narrow face. Snape saw her tear of anguish, and he looked at her with all the deepness and fullness of his soul. But then, turned his head away in disgust, pretending he had not seen the pitiful plea.

Now that is was over, the Veela still on the stage were motionless in a pose, covering themselves behind their veils. The crowd went wild. Desiree Dolohov, from the side of the stage climbed down the staircase. The clapping started, getting louder and louder. Voldemort looked around a little, with an impatience air about him, for he wanted the “Festival of the Pure-bloods” to be ended. He looked around at his Death Eaters in the front and then reluctantly clapped.

Once the clapping had ceased, the crowd was going wild, still dancing and singing and cheering and whistling appreciatively. Apparently, they had enjoyed the party and were still enjoying it. The music from the organ pipes took up, a drum beat beginning and then a new ancient tune oscillated rapidly. It seemed all was lost in their euphoric, yet totally immoral joy. They had no conscience left, except one for pleasure. Yet it was a dangerous conscious awareness that the crowd contained in themselves. The fire from the crowd did not seem possible to extinguish.


Note: One more scene is left for this chapter and for this ballroom-theater scene...and then we will be close to scene of Voldemort/Narcissa going to bed!!!! Really exciting.