A/N: Love to reviewers and Countess Black

I've no idea how this keeps happening. You know the drill: Part of a series, read the others first, etc. It explains Bellatrix's yelling, the cat-napping, and some other injokes.

The little black kitten I adopted in June is now almost a year old. Her name is Newt, and she's quite evil.

There's a reference to Gladiator in here, too.


What Trixie means, my loves, is that we've decided to further instruct you by means of a story. Won't that be fun? And Trixie, darling, you needn't shout, remember?

Also, the cat is here. She has joined us voluntarily and with absolutely no coercion of any sort, impelled by her righteous hatred and zeal.

*A/N: Has anyone seen Newt? I can't find her.*

Indeed no, muggle. Did I not order you out?

*A/N: We've been through this. You can't order me out of my bedroom.*

Madea, dear, it's very rude to contradict one's elders. Sit down and listen, hmm? Now, let's get on with the story. We've decided to attempt a muggle classic called 'The Beautiful Queen and her step-daughter'. Whimsical, wouldn't you say?

Why don't we tell one called 'The stupid useless muggle who got hexed because all she did was question her betters'? Also, the cat wishes it to be known that she seethes with loathing for muggles.

I'm sure not all muggles.

All of them. But she likes me.

Anyway, darlings. Once there was a beautiful witch. She was the widow of the wealthy merchant, and she lived in great big house on a hill, with lots of elves and pretty robes and other things (because she knew about all the things Bellatrix and I explained last time, you see?)

Quite. This merchant fellow shuffled off his mortal coil, leaving her rich and happy without her stupid husband to bother and distract her from the Cause-err, to bother her. So she spent all her time with her Master, furthering His designs, and also gave a lot of money to charities and whatnot. (Happy, Cissy?)

Yes, Trixie. Now, the king of this country had lost his wife years earlier, and was struck with love for the beautiful widow. So he came and proposed. The widow cleverly fainted a few times to show how delicate she was, and wouldn't let him touch her below the neck until they'd married.

The king was quite as stupid and useless as the first husband, but luckily he, too, soon died. (Do you rather sense a pattern? I do. I like this woman.) So now she was Queen. The only gnome in the garden of her happiness was her horrible muggle stepchild, who had the frankly ridiculous name of Snow White.

Now, darlings, Snow White was very pretty. But that's not all there is to life, is there? Because she was also sly, and that's important. Also, she took good care of her skin and never wore soiled robes or let her hair get mussed.

As is fitting, the Queen took the disgusting muggle spawn and made her a servant, scrubbing floors and living in a cupboard like a house elf. Actually, the elves also hated her too, because she was irritating, and sang when she ought to be have silently contemplating her own inadequacies, both as a human and as an honorary elf.

The princess was a clever girl, and she decided to bide her time rather than avenging herself immediately. So she waited, careful not to let work ruin her hands or make her skin coarse, and dreamed of the day she could marry and turn her husband against the Queen.

But the Queen was too clever for that by half. She had a mirror, and aside from talking to her sister and following Quidditch on it, she watched her nauseating muggle step child creeping round like the disgusting little sneak she was.

One day, through an innocent misunderstanding, a servant got the absurd idea the Queen wanted Snow White dead (and we know that a lady would never do such a thing, don't we, darlings? If she felt the girl's attitude was a problem, she ought to have given her a good dose of the hairbrush and had done with it.)

The Queen knew it had progressed too far, and anyway, this way was more fun. So she gave the fellow a box for the heart and sent them off into the forest. Unfortunately, the fellow lost his nerve, quite like a certain brother in law, and let the little chit go. The Queen had got the fellow on her Master's recommendation. As He was, alas, far too forgiving, she likewise refused to check his bona fides in this matter.

I heard that, Bellatrix. So clever Snow White darted into the forest, taking care to look nice the whole time, until she came to a house inhabited by seven goblins. These goblins worked everyday mining for gold and such, as goblins do, and they were glad to welcome her.

There's some unpleasant rumours about the muggle girl's doings in this time period, so let's just say she got to know all of them very well. Isn't that right, Mugglekiller?

*A/N: Her name is Newt.*

Quiet, muggle. Cissy, it's bothering me again.

Now, darling. You aren't getting any younger, you know. And Bellatrix, I'm not sure that we can infer that sort of thing from a children's story, though I agree that it is somewhat suspect.

Anyway, Snow White slyly set about charming the goblins by finding an elf to do their housework, and sat about all day looking pretty and making everything nicer by being there. It was most pleasant, though she had no maid, so she couldn't really enjoy life to the fullest. Because darlings, having properly styled hair does add something, doesn't it?

The Queen was still more clever. Finally checking her mirror, she realised what had happened. Demoting her idiot servant and decided to ask her Master for help. He suggested more devious, Slytherin means were called for, and gave her a powerful poison, which she...wait a moment: how could Snow White see the goblins if she was a muggle?

Perhaps she was a squib, Trixie. Anyway, it's a fairy story, it doesn't need to make sense. The Queen had her elf put the poison in an apple, and transfigured herself into an old peddler women.

Disguised as the old peddler woman, the Queen made her way to the goblin's house when she knew the wretched brat would be there alone, and somehow gained entrance, despite the fact that even muggles must know we don't let strangers in to our homes. For a clever girl, she was awfully stupid, do you think?

Some people are trusting. Although a reminder to our readers wouldn't hurt. Darlings, if someone should try to gain entrance to your house by offering fruit, tell the housekeeper to deal with them at the servant's entrance. If Snow White had dealt with all this in appropriate manner, she would have been fine.

Do you suppose this is somehing we could exploit? Paper, muggle, quickly. I shall His Lordship a letter informing him of this discovery. And then Mugglekiller will deliver it as a sign of fealty to the Cause.

*A/N: Madam Malfoy...*

It's all right, dear heart. Trixie is just teasing you.

Am not.

Bellatrix, you promised.

Fine, fine. I'll do it later. Shameful, the ways these young people behave. Maybe this is why someone isn't married.

Now, Bellatrix, lack of personal graces and lacklustre attention to the niceties of dress and grooming have played a part as well. Isn't that right, Madea?

*A/N: Weeps softly*

Why do you get to make her cry and I don't?

Because it's for her own good. Now anyway, the Queen had selected an especially delicious looking, ripe red apple, and she offered it to the girl. Now, loves, what did Snow White do wrong?

Attempted to challenge her betters. And living with all those goblins was a bit odd, I expect, but primarily the first one.

Trixie... The answers, preciouses, is that she was greedy and gobbled down the whole thing. Had she nibbled at it, like you know we'd want you to do, she might have been fine.

The Dark Lord is almighty. When he sets out to poison someone, they're poisoned. Nibbling wouldn't save one.

Quite. Anyway, before the girl could swallow a fatal dose, a piece of apple lodged in her throat and she fell down, as though dead. The Queen, in an unusual display of gullibility, declined to check for a heart beat.

Why should she have? See my comment above? That. So, having perfect faith in her Master, the Queen went home and fed some orphans or something. Pureblood orphans. Also, Mugglekiller indicates that she wishes to carry the note for me as soon as the muggle can be distracted, perhaps with something shiny.

You'd do better with a book in this case, I'd say. Now, when the goblins returned home, they found Snow White, apparently dead, on the floor. Also neglecting to check that she wasn't dead, they made her a special coffin, with gold and jewels and such, and set her in a glen, surrounded by furry little animals and so on.

For whatever reason, this struck everyone as a good idea, and they went about their lives for some time. Then one day, a prince was riding through the glen and happened upon the girl. He was so struck by her beauty that he stopped and...this is interesting.


Do you suppose the prince is supposed to be Mulciber? Because when I hear 'corpses' and 'rog-'


Like you don't. Remember the Christmas party in 1979?

We aren't going to talk about that. Now, darlings, the prince, behaving exactly as he should, admired her from afar, with positively no uncomfortable implications or subtext whatsoever. Are we all clear on this? Excellent.

So how does he wake her up?

Snow White is much too polite to ignore someone looking at her. Good breeding dislodged that apple, dear ones. Do you see now why I'm constantly reminding you of these things?

My version was better.

As she woke, the prince was struck by a kind of chaste love for her, the kind that made him want to marry her straightaway-

Still thinking of Mulciber, are we?

Bellatrix Druella, I was not. Anyhow, they were married that same day, and Snow White began the arduous work of turning her husband against the Queen. It wasn't very hard, loves, because she'd been practising her winning looks.

It seems suspicious, is all I was trying to say.

Trixie, why don't you go and sit with Madea? She looks lonely.

*A/N: I'm not lonely.*

Of course you are, dear, and don't correct your elders.

Move, muggle, on your narrow spinster's bed of shame. There, that is most cosy.

*A/N: Help...me...*

Builds character, love, you'll see. Now, it didn't take very long for Snow White to turn her husband, who wasn't precisely an Arithmancer in terms of his thoughts, against the Queen.

The Queen, meanwhile, still with perfect faith in her Master, was busy giving blankets and things to deserving Purebloods. And schools, and so forth. Whatever people do in this situation. She forewent checking the mirror, and did good works.

Having, with enormous deviousness, turned her husband against the Queen, Snow White decided to make her move, and planned a party. It was quite a good party, with loads of champagne, and elegant flowers, and delicious food. Having learnt her lesson, Snow White ate beforehand and only nibbled at canapes.

The Queen received her invitation. Checking the mirror, she determined to go and finish the little cow once and for all. Donning her finest robes, and combing her hair to a truly stunning height, she set off.

Snow White, likewise attired in the best of taste, had expected this. She'd made a few special arrangements of her own, and when the Queen arrived, she called her aside. 'Step-Mother' she said 'There's no call for us to argue, is there? We should forget this whole foolish thing ever happened.'

'Bollocks' said the Queen, and went to hex her. But being a nasty little sneak, Snow White had hidden the goblins amongst the tables of food. Springing forth, they drove the Queen from the ball. It was all right, though, because the Queen had a backup plan.

Trixie, the muggle story ends with the Queen being driven from the land.

Well, this is hardly the muggle story, now is it? Anyway, the Queen had cleverly lowered herself to meet with some werewolves, and for a small fee, and some meat, they'd been waiting for the signal. The end results, while not pretty, proved once and for all that the Queen was queen by virtue of her intelligence and cunning, not just the gruesome series of murders she'd committed.


The End. Were you not entertained, muggles?

*A/N: Come here, Newt.

Attack, minion! Go for the...what's this?

*A/N: Who wants a tummy rub, Newt kitty?*

Mugglekiller does not want your pitiful belly rubs, muggle. Prepare to be mauled.

*A/N: Yes, you do. Yes, you do.*

You'll sing a different tune when Mugglekiller tears out your eyes. She's building up, is all.

Until next time, my darlings.