Traits of a Malfoy


Warning: This piece of fanfiction contains questionable themes such as sexual/non-sexual relationships between males, females, as well as members of the same family. In other words, slash, femslash, and incest.
Disclaimer: No really, how many times do I have to convince you they aren't mine.
For falling ice star (even though I don't even know if she likes femslash) because ffnet has been an idiot.

I remember how your words kissed my skin, tickled my lips and flirted with my emotions.

"Mother, you called?"

Narcissa shifted slightly as the cultured voice reached her prone form near her dresser. Turning around, she caught her son's profile throwing odd shadows (they were too angular to be a woman's) across the heavily carpeted floor.

"Yes. Indeed. I wondered if you needed a break from your studies."

Draco hid the impatience threatening to break through. "No mother, I am fine."

Slowly but deliberately Narcissa took lilted steps towards her son. She subtly nudged him into the room and closed the door. Draco made no move, choosing to stare blankly at a spot on the perfectly ironed curtains.

"You can't help that your mother feels a little concerned for you, can you?" Narcissa breathed, guiding him towards the bed. She proceeded to massage her son's shoulders carefully, trying to knead away the tension. Pulling down the silk shirt that hung loosely across his shoulders, she slid her fingers towards the buttonholes.

Only Draco's hands stopped her. "What is it you want, mother."

"Patience," she whispered, "And the obedience you never gave me."

The younger Malfoy started as he felt her cold hands breech across his torso. He did not even resist when she placed a blindfold over his eyes, and pressed him onto the bed.

Those games we played, from innocent ones to the ones before you died. Remember them? Every touch from you, I feel when the breeze graces my shoulders. Every taste of you that lingers is exquisite, and I miss you. Too much. Did you not love me enough to stay? Look what I am doing now.

Does it make your jealous? Or do you remember those times, when it was you who pushed me down upon the soft satin sheets; when it was you who could make me tremble in anticipation.

There was an elaborate dance of fingertips across Draco's chest and his clothes vanished. Cold air rushed over his skin and he shivered as he felt a weight shifting onto his thighs and then warm breath, rushing over his abdomen. Wet firm lips traced a path across his torso and he let himself relax to the gentle touch. It was odd how his body seemed to wait in anticipation, because he could not see what was going on.

Then a quick flick of a warm tongue slid along his shaft, causing him to jerk. Heat pooled in his lower reason. And it was irrational, to be reacting like such to his mother's administrations, but he did anyway. Logic sometimes did not agree with Malfoys, and Malfoys simply chose to ignore them. After all, Malfoys were meant to do the wrong thing right.

Narcissa carefully coaxed his arousal, scraping it once or twice with her teeth before abruptly taking his whole length in her mouth. He shuddered. Narcissa heaved apart his legs spread casually across the stark white sheets, pressed so clean they never did look slept on.

Do you remember how you never let me be on top? How you always laid me down in front of you, and told me how beautiful I was?

I'm doing what I never got to do with you, but it feels so wrong, and somehow I think a little change is in order.

He's beautiful, but I cannot look him in the eye, unlike the way I looked at you. Because I know, instead of passion and want in those orbs, it will be lust and disgust I find.

Suddenly Narcissa stopped. She took away Draco's blindfold and placed it in his hands.

"Blindfold me, and do what you would have done to him."

The younger Malfoy stared at the soft black cloth in his hands. Glancing at her full pale body glinting with the light sheen of sweat he stepped behind her. His deft fingers covered her eyes, and he bound her hands with the soft tie lying on the bedside. She never moved once, seemingly submitting completely to his touch.

Draco lowered his voice. "Remember mother, I am only doing this because it is the obedience I owed you."

Narcissa made no protest.

You were the kind of girl that everyone would stare at, the kind that anyone would kill to have. You were the kind of girl, who wanted the world, and you came close enough to getting that.

You, wanting me, was good enough.

And now, as I close my eyes, I will pretend that he is you, and its you that's moving into me, its you that's taking my body, and its you that's going to make me scream.

Moving between her legs, Draco paused somewhat indecisively. Then he lowered his lips upon the still body of Narcissa, taking in its pale alabaster quality. It was not enough to pretend however, for the other he wanted writhing beneath him, never had such prefect-unmarred skin. And a milky pale slate replaced the scar, which his eyes were so accustomed to seeing.

Closing his eyes, he slid softly into her, some blood instinct not wanting to hurt her. She gasped nevertheless, and he started riding her slowly. It was awkward really, he had never done it this way before, and as his hands moved to grip her hips, they felt too smooth within his palms.

Tell me, why am I so addicted to you. Tell me, why I have to love you still.

Even as Narcissa moaned quietly, the young blonde increased his pace, moving with an expertise that was almost uncanny. His fingers reached and flitted on their own, needed no prompting from his mind. Like how a piano player would perform his own masterpiece, Draco let the intensity flowed.

Not once did he open his eyes, to glance at the person beneath him.

It feels so right, and it feels so wrong. I know you've come back, if only for a while.

She felt it moving through her, and with eyes twisted shut; she felt her orgasm rush through her. Like fire, the intensity increased and she called out a name.


Draco heard it, and he thrust himself one last time. All the while his mind played before him the pale coarse texture of Voldemort's skin, before obtrusively, he came. Disgusted, he pulled out of her, and dusted himself off. Naturally, the bindings and blindfolds removed themselves.

"Thank you mother. Take care."

Stepping out of the room, he moved to the shower. It was unwise to let himself smell of sex before his presented himself to Voldemort.

As the door closed shut, Narcissa quietly picked herself and stared into the mirror.

Maybe that's all I wanted all along.

"Draco, its no wonder you make a good whore. Lucius was right."

A soft breeze blew across her face, caressing it for one ghostly moment.

Bella. He's too much like you.

A/N: God, that is an appalling amount of incest. No reviews expected, because nobody on ffnet seems to like femslash. If you've read this though, thank you for bearing with me.