Harry Potter 1. Default Chapter

Underjoyed  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own them, never will, blah blah blah. Which is a shame, you know, because the things I could do with them…oh well, as long as I get to play, I suppose.  
  
Rating: I'm just gonna go with an all around R here. I don't know how explicit it's going to get, but there's no point in taking chances.  
  
Summary: The summer before her sixth year, Ginny has a run in with an older woman that is going to change her life. (Trite, yet true)  
  
Narcissa/Ginny. So wrong, yet so delightful at the same time. I've read a lot of Harry Potter fanfic, and I've noticed there is a sad lack of f/f stories. Maybe I've just missed them, if anyone knows of any good ones please tell me. And oh yeah, this is a lesbian story, and if you can't deal with that, LEAVE. Ooh, I love Ginny. And please review!  
  
  
  
  
  
Ginny Weasley shuffled impatiently in the chair in hopes of finding a new position that wouldn't cause her bottom to ache so much. Damn plastic chair, she cursed. And then, on second thought, damn bony butt. Sometimes she really hated being so thin, Her mother was always telling her she needed more padding on her bones.  
  
Taking up her spoon once more she ignored how sticky her hands were getting and twirled it around the empty glass, swirling the remnants of her strawberry ice cream around. Scanning the crowd once more, Ginny decisively dropped the spoon with a clatter, absent-mindedly sucking the last residue of her dessert off her fingers. Anna definitely was not coming.  
  
She left her awful chair with relief, and stretched, sighing in pleasure as all her little aches were soothed away. What was she going to do now? Anna was supposed to have met her here and they would have had the whole afternoon together—something that Ginny had really been looking forward to. Living in a house with all her brothers could get really frustrating.  
  
Well, she might as well leave, now she had the whole afternoon to herself. Sometimes trying to make plans with Anna could be so frustrating. Her parents were very controlling, and if she did the slightest thing wrong then they would ground her, ruining many of their plans. It was because of this that Ginny wasn't too concerned as she leisurely strolled down the many shops that comprised the Alley.  
  
She supposed that she could always find her brother, but he was with Hermione and he never liked it when she interrupted them. Now that they were beginning their last year of school the finality of their childhood was catching up with them she supposed.  
  
So she had till, when, six, until her mother was coming back to pick her and Ron up. Well, she might as well window shop, and maybe go dumpster diving. Even the magical community needed trash bins. Walking down the street, she noticed a shop she had never seen before. It looked like some kind of antique store, and what had really caught Ginny's eye was a rather large painting they had put on front display. It was of two half naked women. Ginny felt herself strangely drawn towards it, an excitement coursing through her veins, and she couldn't take her eyes off of it until she had passed through the door and into the shop.  
  
She was rather disappointed. As shops went, it wasn't very exciting. Rather musty and dark, and the shop owner kept throwing her suspicious glances like she was some troubled teen you always heard about in the news. Just because her robes were a little shabby…she self-consciously tried to tug them down a little to create the illusion that they fit, but even then the scuffed and frayed appearance would have told the truth. She hated it. Just because her family wasn't rich, and she had died her hair blue over the summer lately she had been practically hounded out of any store that she had tried to go into, just for looking.  
  
Still, she tried her best to ignore the owner, which was rather difficult seeing as how the owner was a rather portly lady who took up about half of the store, but she did her best. There was another odd little door in the back, but whenever she started to look at it, the shopkeeper would just glare at her even more and start glancing over at the broom that was handily next to the cash register. Ginny decided it was in her best interest to not enquire further. Not that it looked that interesting anyway.  
  
She wandered around rather listlessly, more to kill time than anything else, when she saw something that stood out from the rest. Feeling her flagging spirits revive, she walked toward it with renewed vigor.  
  
It was a sculpture, rather crowded in on a table with other pieces so she almost didn't see it. It was of two women, wearing tunics reclining on some kind of couch or chaise like structure and they were…holding each other rather familiarly. Still the love and affection they felt towards each other was obvious to any observant viewers eyes and she stared raptly.  
  
"It's beautiful isn't it?" A rather hoarse but decidedly female voice came washing over her.  
  
Startled she turned around and stepped back a little in shock at the woman she found herself gazing on. Tall, a little old but definitely still beautiful and elegant, and above all, rich. From the lazy arrogant slant of her voice, to her proud bearing to her robes that definitely did not come from Madame Malkins but were probably shipped in from Italy or some other distant place. It made Ginny acutely aware of her hand me downs.  
  
The lady either didn't, or pretended not to notice her discomfort and rather kept on talking.  
  
"It's of Artemis and her lover Callisto." Seeing Ginny's rather blank look, she explained. Stepping a little closer towards the sculpture, and in doing so, Ginny, she continued, "Artemis was a figure in Greek mythology, a virgin huntress, always surrounded by nymphs, and of course, Callisto. It was said that the only way that her father Zeus could seduce Callisto was to take on Artemis' own form." The woman was so close that Ginny could feel her breath hotly fanning her cheek.  
  
The woman's fingers slowly reached over and started following the lines and curves of the sculpture. Involuntarily Ginny's eyes followed those graceful strong fingers barely noticing when the woman started talking again.  
  
"Of course, muggles think it all a story, but as it usually turns out with muggle stories, there is some truth to the tale." Ginny just continued to stare, wondering what a rich, confident, older woman could possibly want with her. Lately, most people went out of their way to avoid her. Her face clouded a little as she thought of her brother Ron and especially Harry. Just because she had once had a crush on him, he thought she'd always be like that. He was so full of himself sometimes. It was almost funny the lengths he sometimes went to 'not encourage her'.  
  
As she had been thinking, the woman too had been examining her. As Ginny raised her gaze once more to the woman's intense hazel eyes something broke over her face, some decision was reached. She smiled, filling Ginny somehow with a sense of foreboding. Then she reached out her smooth well- manicured hand.  
  
"I'm Narcissa." She said pleasantly. Ginny took her hand and was surprised to feel calluses.  
  
"Ginny, Ginny Weasley." 


	2. 2. the meeting

Underjoyed  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own them, never will, blah blah blah. Which is a shame, you know, because the things I could do with them…oh well, as long as I get to play, I suppose.  
  
Rating: I'm just gonna go with an all around R here. I don't know how explicit it's going to get, but there's no point in taking chances.  
  
Summary: The summer before her sixth year, Ginny has a run in with an older woman that is going to change her life. (Trite, yet true)  
  
Narcissa/Ginny. So wrong, yet so delightful at the same time. I've read a lot of Harry Potter fanfic, and I've noticed there is a sad lack of f/f stories. Maybe I've just missed them, if anyone knows of any good ones please tell me. And oh yeah, this is a lesbian story, and if you can't deal with that, LEAVE. Ooh, I love Ginny. And please review!  
  
Triumph seemed to flash in the woman's, no, Narcissa's eyes but it left so quickly leaving behind only a pleasant residue of polite goodwill that Ginny couldn't be sure that she saw it. She let go of Ginny's hands rather abruptly and Ginny realized she hadn't let it go. She blushed again in discomfort. Why was this woman talking to her? She must think Ginny a fool, staring at her like a mute and in such a horrid outfit.  
  
"So, what's a pretty young thing like you doing all alone on a fine day like this?" Narcissa's mouth twisted up in a wry little half smirk, as if recognizing the offensiveness of her statement and challenging Ginny to defend herself.  
  
Ginny having not escaped the characteristic trait of the Weasley family—a rather explosive temper—proved herself quite capable of rising up to the bait. Her face flushed even further, her eyes narrowed, "I am not a helpless girl, always needing to be in the care of others. I am going into my sixth year at Hogwarts, and am quite capable of taking care of myself, I'll let you know!"  
  
Narcissa took this all in stride and with an unnecessary flick of her wrist to pat down already meticulous pale blonde hair said smoothly, "Of course, I never doubted that for a second," leaving Ginny to blink wondering what exactly she had been trying to defend and her feelings of embarrassment returning full force.  
  
"Oh," Ginny said rather stupidly.  
  
"If you like art, you should come to my studio sometime, I'm usually in on the weekends from noon to five," Narcissa carried on their conversation. She reached into her robe and Ginny couldn't help noticing the way they clung to her waist and fell down gracefully just reaching the floor. Narcissa pulled what looked like a business card out of her pocket. Giving it over to Ginny, her hand lingered what seemed a tad too long.  
  
"That's the address. I expect to see you soon." The look that Narcissa gave her burned into her skin as well as any touch could have. "Goodbye Ginny." And with that, Narcissa was gone, sweeping out of the store in a trail of musky perfume, leaving Ginny to fumble out a bye in her wake.  
  
Ginny kept standing long after the door had shut behind Narcissa and she was along again. She shook her head, senses slowly returning from the strangeness of that encounter. Remembering the card Narcissa had placed in her hand before she left, Ginny opened her hand, revealing a rather plain seeming white rectangle of paper. It was quite simple, in that it had no moving pictures or sound like most of the garish advertisements that seemed to be taking over these days. Just the white background and plain, bold black lettering:  
  
1 Narcissa Alba  
  
548 Saxton's Road  
  
1.1 London, England  
  
Ginny didn't know quite what it was about Narcissa, but she did want to see her again. That is, if the woman wanted her to. She wasn't sure—what if she went and Narcissa didn't even remember her. Ginny could just see the disdainful look on her face turning it into a rather pinched mockery of its usual self, 'oh, that grubby little girl from the antique store, yes, I recall you now'. And then a stare as if asking Ginny to explain what the hell she was doing, invading her personal life. But…she had invited her after all. And Ginny had felt things in her company, strange things, and she wanted to meet this mysterious woman again to see what it was. The only problem was getting there. Pocketing the card, she tried to push the problem from her mind. She'd work it out.  
  
Giving a parting glance to the sculpture that had started her whole encounter, she left the store, much to the relief, she was sure, of the shopkeeper. Walking down the street she looked at the large clock just outside of Gringott's. It was specially charmed to tell time specific to the person who was looking at it. When Ginny looked at it, she saw that it was still three hours from when she had to meet her mother.  
  
She made her way easily to the Junk shop, feet knowing the route from many such journeys. It was her favorite place to go, it had bad security and everything was junk (as the name of the store so subtly pointed out) so it didn't matter anyway, right? She pushed open the door, smiling charmingly at the salesclerk, and meandered her way to the back of the store, where they kept their clothing. She browsed the pickings, searching for anything that would catch her fancy. She found her way to the lingerie section and smiled as she saw the old worn-out clothes still trying to be seductive. Searching for a while she finally picked up a rather cute little pinkish- white nightie, sheer on top, she shrugged her shoulders and held on to it. Why the hell not? Before heading to the dressing room, she also managed to grab a bracelet that she saw lying around.  
  
Five minutes later she appeared from the dressing room, lingerie mysteriously disappeared, and if you looked extremely closely and knew what you were looking for you would see that her robes almost imperceptibly bulged a little more than when she had stepped in. Giving the clerk one more smile on the way out, she merrily walked her way down Diagon Alley, enjoying the busy atmosphere and the rush that such acts always gave her.  
  
She saw Ron and Hermione, looked like they were headed into Flourish and Blotts, she knew that Hermione would manage to drag Ron in there somehow. She hurried past, not wanting to see them, making her way to a certain dumpster that she knew from experience could be very rewarding. On her way, she would almost compulsively pull out the card that Narcissa had given her and stare at it searchingly. 


	3. Underjoyed 3

Underjoyed 3  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own them, never will, blah blah blah. Which is a shame, you know, because the things I could do with them.oh well, as long as I get to play, I suppose.  
  
Rating: I'm just gonna go with an all around R here. I don't know how explicit it's going to get, but there's no point in taking chances.  
  
Summary: The summer before her sixth year, Ginny has a run in with an older woman that is going to change her life. (Trite, yet true)  
  
Narcissa/Ginny. So wrong, yet so delightful at the same time. I've read a lot of Harry Potter fanfic, and I've noticed there is a sad lack of f/f stories. Maybe I've just missed them, if anyone knows of any good ones please tell me. And oh yeah, this is a lesbian story, and if you can't deal with that, LEAVE. Ooh, I love Ginny. And please review!  
  
This got a little, well a lot actually, more serious than I had intended it to, and I'm not sure if I like it. I don't think I like speaking from Narcissa's pov either, so I'm not sure if that will happen again. Thank you to everyone who commented on this story and liked it and especially to those who wanted to archive it. As for that Callisto and Artemis bit, I have no clue where I read that, but it must have been somewhere if I put it in the story, right? Reviews and comments on what I should do with the story, if I should go anywhere with this Lucius bit will be much appreciated.  
  
  
  
Underjoyed: Part three  
  
Narcissa muttered a cleaning spell, getting the clay off of her hands. It was time to go home, she knew, glancing reluctantly at the sculpture that she was leaving behind. Rough, the beginnings of that delightful girl she had met, Ginny, could be made out. Lucius got so fussy when she came home late, however and tonight she simply did not feel like putting up with it. Glancing at the firm yet delicate curve of the face once more, she apparated back to the manor, the front hall to be precise, and was not at all surprised as she left it and passed through the parlor to find Lucius sitting there, pretending to be absorbed in a book as he enjoyed his nightcap. His quick, cold eyes that darted like silverfish at any provocation quickly passed from the heavy tome to her, and he snorted contemptuously. "Out playing late again, darling?" He murmured in a quiet tone that did not quite match the venom in his voice. "I was out at the studio, if you must know," Narcissa replied in a rather terse tone, not really wanting to answer herself to the man she had made her home with. She knew that in Lucius' eyes when they had taken the wedding vows, she had agreed to obey him in all things, had agreed to let him be the 'man' of the house, to let him be her husband, all of which really amounted to the same thing when seen through his distorted gaze. And damn it, she was sick of it. She might have been a young and naïve girl when pushed into this marriage by her parents, but Narcissa had learned a few things since then, not the least being that she didn't need Lucius. She had done her duty by providing him with a son, and now she didn't owe him anything. Flight was gliding closer toward her each day, but Narcissa wasn't quite ready. Not yet. Still, in the meantime, that didn't mean she had to be polite to the man. "Oh, that," He snorted away contemptuously, talking in the manner one would about the deluded achievements of a madwoman proudly talking about her immaculate conception of Jesus Christ. "When are you going to give up that silly pastime dear? Merlin knows we don't need the money, and it's just so crass, don't you think, mucking about with your hands like any common peasant?" The full force of Malfoy arrogance was bearing down on Narcissa, and she did the only thing she could do in this situation. She walked away. She knew that irritated her husband more than any witty response or insult would. Of all things, her dear Lucius hated being ignored the most. Most people were afraid to ignore him nowadays, making it all the more powerful when Narcissa did. "I'm going to bed, Lucius," Could be heard floating faintly down the hallway as Lucius' hands tightened on the book, his eyes narrowing in anger as he regarded the figure of his wife so cavalierly dismissing him. He threw down the book, not even trying to maintain the pretense of quiet study anymore. How dare that woman just leave like he wasn't important? Like he was no one? He was Lucius Malfoy and by Merlin he was going to start seeing a little more respect around here. He wanted to go up after her, show her who exactly was in charge of what went on in the manor, but he wasn't quite ready. Not yet. Let the woman hold onto her deluded ideas of superiority for a little while longer. It wouldn't last. It wouldn't be wise to act early. He had to find the plan.the perfect plan. To break Narcissa, to reduce her to nothing more than a shattered body and mind.that would take planning. That would take skill. All of which required time. He didn't need her anymore; she had produced him with an heir. And he was sure, given time Draco would get over it. He himself had after all. Memories of his own mother started to fill his mind. She had been a beautiful woman. A Malfoy would accept no less in his wife. And for the first few years of his life, Lucius remembered a, if not happy, at least content woman, always taking the time to take care of him, play with him, not subscribing as wholeheartedly to the idea of nanny's as were all the other mothers of the privileged rich. He didn't know when it had changed, but his mother started to look less serene, less beautiful. Bags had appeared under her eyes, she had become jumpy. Sometimes Lucius had caught bruises on her body. At first he was angry. What was happening to his mother? He went to ask his father about it, seeing as when he questioned his mother she just gave him a sad, rather tremulous smile and perhaps ran her hand up his cheek, or brushed a lock of hair back from his face. His father had explained everything to him. How women were little more than animals, that their sole purpose in life was to support and help men. How they were weak, and unless kept under tight control could get into all kinds of bad trouble. His father had explained how the hitting didn't matter, how it was even necessary to control them sometimes. His father explained, and Lucius listened, and believed. He didn't want to plan anything so crass as what his father had done for Narcissa. No, a more total destruction was called for, something that required finesse and skill. Lucius would wait. And plan. Narcissa reached her quarters, now a good few hallways away from Lord Malfoy's (the title he insisted all the servants addressed him by-delusions of grandeur anyone?) in fact, just about on the other side of the house. No point in even pretending an amiable relationship anymore, except for public appearances and even that was beginning to not apply. She didn't bother asking where Draco was. He had gone on the vacation with some of his friends, and while she knew that their families were staunch death eaters, she could only trust in her son to make the right decision. She couldn't shield him from these things; it would be ridiculous for her to try with his own father one of the strongest of Voldemort's supporters. Still, she had managed to shield her son from one thing. The hatred that was the legacy of all Malfoy fathers' to their sons. Hatred for their mothers, for women in general, for anyone that they perceived weaker than them. In spite of all of Lucius' repeated attempts to pervert Draco into hating Narcissa, he had resisted. While Narcissa and Draco didn't have the most loving or easy of mother-son relations, she also knew that he wasn't filled with the immense hatred toward women that Lucius himself had gotten from his father. It made Narcissa hope that Draco could also find the strength to fight off the Dark Lord. This was something that she could not help him with. She decided to turn her thoughts to more pleasant subjects, like that delicious young girl she had met today in Diagon Alley. Ginny. She couldn't believe that after all these years Lucius still didn't recognize what she was. All the lovers she had taken, discretely of course.but still, she would have thought that he would have caught on by now. Curse it, there was Lucius intruding into her thoughts again like the poisonous cancer he was. She kept her mind firmly fixated on Ginny and the way those innocent young eyes had stared at her curiously filled with an unknown desire. Narcissa could help her realize that. Realize what she was, take her under her wing in a way that no one had ever bothered to do for her. She closed her curtains and took off her robes, slipping under her exorbitantly priced bed-large enough for five people, although she was sure (and here was that dreaded name again) Lucius would have a fit if she staged such an orgy under his own roof. Turning off the lights with a thought, she drifted off to sleep with images of lithe young girls, or rather one particular lithe young girl dancing through her head. 


End file.

Harry Potter