True Vanity
folder
Harry Potter › FemSlash - Female/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
12,006
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › FemSlash - Female/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
12,006
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
True Vanity
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I do not own anything Harry Potter or J.K rowling orientated, nor do I intend to profit from this or any other fanfictions I have written. Nor do I like cabbage. That is all.
Leave me some feedback!
Nix.
*********************************************************************************
True Vanity
She flitted from shadow to shadow down the corridor, as fluid and graceful as a cat, pausing, her form stilled for a moment as she listened for movement. Quickly, a deeper shadow in the darkness, she moved along the next corridor, navigating her way back to the common room when a strange, almost glimmering light distracted her. Stepping across the corridor to a half-open door, she entered an unused classroom and gasped.
Opposite her, perched on two clawed feet, was a mirror. A huge and ornate golden mirror, with the words “Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi” hacked deeply into the top of the frame. She couldn’t tell whether it was metal or gilded wood, even when she ran her hand over it.
And then she looked into it, and smiled.
Long, sleek blonde hair, and icy blue-grey eyes, full lips twisted into a sardonic smile, a firm, toned body and exquisitely tailored robes.
Narcissa Malfoy in the Mirror. Narcissa Malfoy, in a dingy classroom in Hogwarts.
She leaned forward, and her reflection smiled at her, beckoning her close. She brushed a stray hair out of her eyes, and leaned close er rer reflection, watching the subtle play of the sparse moonlight on her face, watching her pupils dilate as they tried to take in more light.
Icy eyes closing slightly, she moved a hand up to her face and let it stroke her cheekbone slowly. A faint fire began to simmer between her hipbones as she leaned even closer to the mirror, so close that her breath misted the cold glass surface. Her reflection’s eyes darkened slightly with lust and pushed forward. And for a moment, Narcissa could swear she had felt ghostly lips brush hers.
She let the hand fall from her cheekbone to her throat, where she fumbled for the gilt fastenings of her robe and undid them slowly, one handed, the other easing its way over her breasts, and down her stomach. She shrugged the heavy black satin off her shoulders, the rich material piling heavily onto the cold and uneven flagstones at her feet.
The silver irises of her eyes darkened again as she pressed against the mirror once more, long tendrils of silver framing her face; her breasts flattened against the glass, and watched her reflection run its hands slowly over its hips. She did the same, her hands achingly slow over the smooth flesh. Narcissa drew back slightly, and, tracing the line of her ribcage with her fingers, pressed her white flesh down slightly between the thin bones. She pinched a hardening nipple gently, and then raked her manicured nails down her own stomach, flinching slightly at the pain and letting out a low moan at the pleasure. With her other hand, she began to rub hlitolitoris lightly, her eyes widening as her reflection moved on its own, sliding its hand up around its throat and back down between its own flawless breasts.
Narcissa’s breathing was coming quicker now, and she threw herself down on the floor, ran a hand slowly up her inner thigh and then eased two fingers inside her. Propping herself up in one hand, silvery hair draped like satin over one shoulder, she watched her reflection tilt its head back and open its mouth in a silent moan. Her own fingers moved deeper inside her and curled upwards, rubbing gently and her own mouth opened, but the resulting moan was anything but silent. Narcissa bit her lip and her eyes fluttered shut as her fingers moved faster, and her back arched up as her breathing grew ever more ragged and she shook violently as her orgasm overcame her slim body and her eyes slammed open to watch her reflection do the same.
And then suddenly, some move cau caught her eye. She turned, quickly, still on the cold floor, gathering up her robe and holding it protectively in front of her.
“Prof…professor…” she stammered, a vivid blush spreading over her pale cheeks.
Professor Dumbledore stepped forward from the back wall of the classroom, his head down and his long white hair hiding his face.
“Narcissa Malfoy,” he said mildly, “you should be in bed.”
“Am I going to get a detention, Sir?” she asked, caught entirely off her guard.
“Not tonight, Narcissa, not tonight. However…. I must discourage you from further nocturnal wanderings. I am not in charge of Slytherin house, and I do not wish to involve anyone else in what has happened here tonight.” Narcissa heaved a sigh of relief, her embarrassed flush receding slightly now.
“This is no ordinary mirror, Narcissa, and it can be very dangerous. I do not want to catch you like this again. Now go back to your dormitory, and we shall say no more about this.”
“Thank you, Professor.”
Dumbledore turned and walked swiftly away and out of the door. Narcissa waited, her heart beating wildly, and then put her robes on with shaky hands. She kept her back to the mirror all the way to the door, Dumbledore’s words ringing in her head. At the doorway, she curled her fingers around the cold stone of the doorway and looked back.
Herlectlection was still in the mirror, its hands pressed against the glass, its eyes wide and petulant. It seemed to be mouthing something silently. For a minute, Narcissa felt herself drawn back into the room; her eyes locked to those of her mirrored self. Then she shook her head violently, her fear of being caught overcoming her lust.
“I’ll come back soon,” she mouthed at the reflection, and fled. Her image faded in the glass, leaving nothing but silvery moonlight across the speckled flagstones.
-FIN-
I do not own anything Harry Potter or J.K rowling orientated, nor do I intend to profit from this or any other fanfictions I have written. Nor do I like cabbage. That is all.
Leave me some feedback!
Nix.
*********************************************************************************
She flitted from shadow to shadow down the corridor, as fluid and graceful as a cat, pausing, her form stilled for a moment as she listened for movement. Quickly, a deeper shadow in the darkness, she moved along the next corridor, navigating her way back to the common room when a strange, almost glimmering light distracted her. Stepping across the corridor to a half-open door, she entered an unused classroom and gasped.
Opposite her, perched on two clawed feet, was a mirror. A huge and ornate golden mirror, with the words “Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi” hacked deeply into the top of the frame. She couldn’t tell whether it was metal or gilded wood, even when she ran her hand over it.
And then she looked into it, and smiled.
Long, sleek blonde hair, and icy blue-grey eyes, full lips twisted into a sardonic smile, a firm, toned body and exquisitely tailored robes.
Narcissa Malfoy in the Mirror. Narcissa Malfoy, in a dingy classroom in Hogwarts.
She leaned forward, and her reflection smiled at her, beckoning her close. She brushed a stray hair out of her eyes, and leaned close er rer reflection, watching the subtle play of the sparse moonlight on her face, watching her pupils dilate as they tried to take in more light.
Icy eyes closing slightly, she moved a hand up to her face and let it stroke her cheekbone slowly. A faint fire began to simmer between her hipbones as she leaned even closer to the mirror, so close that her breath misted the cold glass surface. Her reflection’s eyes darkened slightly with lust and pushed forward. And for a moment, Narcissa could swear she had felt ghostly lips brush hers.
She let the hand fall from her cheekbone to her throat, where she fumbled for the gilt fastenings of her robe and undid them slowly, one handed, the other easing its way over her breasts, and down her stomach. She shrugged the heavy black satin off her shoulders, the rich material piling heavily onto the cold and uneven flagstones at her feet.
The silver irises of her eyes darkened again as she pressed against the mirror once more, long tendrils of silver framing her face; her breasts flattened against the glass, and watched her reflection run its hands slowly over its hips. She did the same, her hands achingly slow over the smooth flesh. Narcissa drew back slightly, and, tracing the line of her ribcage with her fingers, pressed her white flesh down slightly between the thin bones. She pinched a hardening nipple gently, and then raked her manicured nails down her own stomach, flinching slightly at the pain and letting out a low moan at the pleasure. With her other hand, she began to rub hlitolitoris lightly, her eyes widening as her reflection moved on its own, sliding its hand up around its throat and back down between its own flawless breasts.
Narcissa’s breathing was coming quicker now, and she threw herself down on the floor, ran a hand slowly up her inner thigh and then eased two fingers inside her. Propping herself up in one hand, silvery hair draped like satin over one shoulder, she watched her reflection tilt its head back and open its mouth in a silent moan. Her own fingers moved deeper inside her and curled upwards, rubbing gently and her own mouth opened, but the resulting moan was anything but silent. Narcissa bit her lip and her eyes fluttered shut as her fingers moved faster, and her back arched up as her breathing grew ever more ragged and she shook violently as her orgasm overcame her slim body and her eyes slammed open to watch her reflection do the same.
And then suddenly, some move cau caught her eye. She turned, quickly, still on the cold floor, gathering up her robe and holding it protectively in front of her.
“Prof…professor…” she stammered, a vivid blush spreading over her pale cheeks.
Professor Dumbledore stepped forward from the back wall of the classroom, his head down and his long white hair hiding his face.
“Narcissa Malfoy,” he said mildly, “you should be in bed.”
“Am I going to get a detention, Sir?” she asked, caught entirely off her guard.
“Not tonight, Narcissa, not tonight. However…. I must discourage you from further nocturnal wanderings. I am not in charge of Slytherin house, and I do not wish to involve anyone else in what has happened here tonight.” Narcissa heaved a sigh of relief, her embarrassed flush receding slightly now.
“This is no ordinary mirror, Narcissa, and it can be very dangerous. I do not want to catch you like this again. Now go back to your dormitory, and we shall say no more about this.”
“Thank you, Professor.”
Dumbledore turned and walked swiftly away and out of the door. Narcissa waited, her heart beating wildly, and then put her robes on with shaky hands. She kept her back to the mirror all the way to the door, Dumbledore’s words ringing in her head. At the doorway, she curled her fingers around the cold stone of the doorway and looked back.
Herlectlection was still in the mirror, its hands pressed against the glass, its eyes wide and petulant. It seemed to be mouthing something silently. For a minute, Narcissa felt herself drawn back into the room; her eyes locked to those of her mirrored self. Then she shook her head violently, her fear of being caught overcoming her lust.
“I’ll come back soon,” she mouthed at the reflection, and fled. Her image faded in the glass, leaving nothing but silvery moonlight across the speckled flagstones.