Mirror, Mirror

Mirror, Mirror
Chapter 8.
Author’s Note: AddictedtoBuffy- Two reviews?! *!glomp!* I hope in this chapter I explain how Riley works as a Malfoy and reveal at last P’s little observation that birthed this story. Giles is such a perfect Remus he’s shiny. *slides eyes to the side* Just ignore that hulking werewolf in the corner, Sev will shoot it. It also stirs the question who that mischief making Ethan might be, doesn’t it? As for Xander, Wesley and Spike is Xan ever one to turn down sex, bug ladies aside? We shall see, we shall see. Boy’s good at solving problems. *snerk*
Anon – Thank you for the review! My resolution this year is to finish all my WIPs. Honest. That means there will be no sequel to this story from me. I’ve learned my lesson in promising those. Hopefully, things are explained a little better about the goings on in Sunnydale this chapter. I’m not really giving them a lot of attention so someone else will have to write that story.

~*~

Riley slowly woke, rubbing his cheek against silken softness, mind still drifting in hazy dreams. His eyes blinked open to a swirling of color that took his brain a few sluggish minutes to make sense of, to try and place where he was and where he wasn’t. The last place he remembered, the infirmary, had vanished, replaced by what looked like an opulent study done in dark polished wood, silver and shades of green. Propping up on his elbows Riley took in the fancy couch he was lying on, with the matching chairs and coffee table nearby. His clothes were different as well; gone were the jeans and t-shirt, in their place grey slacks with a green silk shirt. Hunh. He matched the décor. Which did not tell him where he was or who had taken him. He also didn’t have his wand anymore.

Sitting all the way up made the weight he’d yet taken notice of swing forward, a long loosely plaited rope of platinum. Riley stared at it in horror, trembling hand reaching to touch what couldn’t be real, but at the last second he couldn’t do it. Instead he went to the back of his head, feeling the cold metal of a grooved clasp. Someone had undone his mother’s charms. Riley had rarely seen his true image, but he knew he looked something like -

That blond man. The memories rushed back in with sudden painful clarity. Angel. That man had come into his room, broken the enchantments and been ready to kill Angel. Riley had changed into Niveus . . . and now he was here. Was Angel still among the living? Why did his gut clench at the thought he wasn’t? The mere entertainment that he was willing to cheat on his girlfriend made him flush with guilt, but he couldn’t deny the growing attraction he had for the dark vampire. Once the spell was broken between them he resolved to talk to Buffy. She deserved better than someone so easily tempted away, even if his temptation was now dust.

But first he needed to find out where he was. Alighting from the lounge he impatiently swept his now long hair back over his shoulder, grey eyes narrowed in search of an exit. Nothing so conventional as a door jumped out at him, but that wasn’t surprising if this was a wizard’s home. Any number of spells could be concealing an entryway; he just needed to find the activator.

“Oh, you’re awake!” The woman stepped out of the seeming solidness of one dark paneled wall, but Riley was more startled by her appearance. She looked like his mother. Tall, with the same white blond hair, delicate porcelain features, . . . but the mouth was fuller, the nose more narrow. And his mother’s eyes were hazel, not black. Still, the resemblance was uncanny. She even dressed in a style similar to his mother’s, wearing an elegant, flowing dress of green. No wand or weapon in visible sight, but Riley still kept his guard up even as he drug up ingrained manners.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but where am I?” Riley warily watched her come closer, frustrated by how little her face gave away. Her smile was warm and reached her eyes, yet Riley’s instincts were screaming at him to run. His usual paranoia of strangers or something else?

“There is no need to fear, Riley. You are safe here.” Her smile didn’t waver though it briefly grew sardonic. “I am Narcissa Malfoy and you are in my home.” She seemed to sense his skittishness, stopping with the length of the chaise between them. “Why don’t we sit down to tea? Nobby!”

A house elf in a neatly pressed grey pillowcase appeared at Narcissa’s side, nervously bobbing its head. “Bring tea with a light repast, and inform his lordship that Riley is awake.” Nobby disappeared with a soft ‘pop’ not having once blinked or looked away from its mistress. Narcissa turned back to Riley, inviting him to return to the lounge with a sweep of her hand. “Can you wait until Lucius and tea arrive for explanations? I promise, we will answer any questions you have.”

Seeing no other choice Riley reluctantly nodded, but didn’t sit back down. He was guessing Lucius was the blond man who’d attacked them in Hogwarts and Riley needed to know Angel’s fate. Even a lie would be better than nothing.

Narcissa did not press him, gliding to the bookshelves that ran the length of most of the room. “I shall have to show you my garden later. The last of the summer blooms are spectacular, but then the weather was rather inclined this year. Does your mother like to garden?”

“Not particularly, no, ma’am.” The pure blood families of Europe were much like Muggle European royalty: they were all related in some fashion. No pure blood dynasty wanted to risk diluting their magic so they all married back and forth, relying on the family’s legacy to keep the lines cleansed. Riley didn’t doubt he was watching a cousin, but he did wonder why Mom had never mentioned the Malfoys. How close of a relation were they? He’d never thought their blond hair was a legacy marker since Nana’s was black.

“I am not surprised,” Narcissa laughed lightly. “Turan barely passed Herbology.”

“You went to school with my mother, ma’am?”

Narcissa smiled at him over one delicately curved shoulder. “Yes. We were in the same year, though from different Houses. Do you know very much about Hogwarts?”

“No, ma’am.”

Plucking an overlarge slim book from its shelf Narcissa perched on the edge of the chaise lounge, her smile bittersweet when Riley cautiously stepped back. “Well, then. Your mother was a Gryffindor, the same as her mother. Lucius and I were in Slytherin. Turan was quite the firebrand in school, headstrong and terribly keen.”

She did not look up at him while she spoke, smoothing her small hands over the book’s embossed cover. Slowly Riley crept closer, her smooth soprano lulling his suspicions and arousing his innate curiosity. Peering over her shoulder he could see a large H on the cover of the book. “Mom doesn’t talk very much about her school days.”

A ‘pop’ heralded the return of Nobby, balancing a tray nearly as large as it holding an arrangement of tea and sandwiches. The man from before came through the same wall as Narcissa a moment later, dressed as Riley had first seen him. “Nobby, you may leave,” he dismissed the house elf, leaning down to kiss Narcissa’s upturned cheek. “My dear.” Dark grey eyes lifted to Riley as Lucius settled himself into the chair across from Narcissa. “Riley, it is good to see you awake.”

Riley didn’t think about his sudden surge of anger, of the words that flew from his mouth sharp and hard. “What did you do with Angel?” There was a great wealth of fear beneath the anger and Riley couldn’t really make sense of either, but he didn’t fight the feelings, wherever they came from. His stomach hurt with the fear and he defensively crossed his arms.

“The vampire?” Lucius guessed, trading a glance with Narcissa who was fussing with the tea set before forging on. “I . . . apologize for earlier and assure you, I left your friend unharmed. Finding you bound to a Dark Creature I acted rashly, but out of concern.” The man’s poker face was as good as Narcissa’s, solicitous apology a briefly worn mask before his chilled smile returned. Riley frowned. Cats were very good at reading emotions: the regret was a surface film yet the Malfoys were genuinely happy with him. They were giving him warm fuzzies and Riley hated it. What did these people want with him?

“I was just showing Riley our school book, Lucius,” Narcissa purred, gesturing to the book she had set aside to play hostess. “Turan has apparently told him nothing of her youth.”

Lucius picked up the book. “Well, perhaps your father doesn’t desire to hear of your mother’s misspent school days.”

Recognizing a leading question when he heard one Riley ducked his head, licking his lips as he wondered why they wanted to know if he had a Dad. “My mother doesn’t like to dwell on the past, sir.”

Tipping his head in acknowledgement of Riley’s obfuscation Lucius bluntly rejoined. “Is you mother married, Riley?”

Riley shook his head. “Ms. Malfoy said you would answer my questions. Like why you kidnapped me from Hogwarts and what you want from me.”

Instead of immediately answering Lucius opened the yearbook and laid it out facing Riley on the coffee table. One picture immediately caught Riley’s interest, cautiously drawing him around the side of the lounge. Out of the corner of his eye he noted Narcissa setting a cup close to the edge of the table, but he was more interested in the picture of three teenagers, a blond boy standing between two black haired girls. Lucius he recognized right away, but it took him longer to realize the one brunette was Narcissa and longer still to see his mother in the other girl. Riley snatched up the book, disbelieving eyes watching the two girls, one in red and gold and the other in green and silver, kissing the boy one after the other.

“I don’t understand,” he murmured, unaware of sitting on the edge of the chaise or of the finely boned hand fussily setting his hair to order.

“Your mother and I were the best of friends,” Narcissa softly whispered in his ear, tucking back a few errant strands. “Though from rival houses we never let anything come between us. Not our families, our other friends, not even loving the same boy. Lucky for us, it turned out his heart was big enough for the both of us.”

Riley jerked away, staring between them, incredulous. His strict, hard ass mother had been in a ménage a trios? “You were all three together, together as in the three of you, my mother, and, you, and, three of you?”

Everything clicked into place and Riley’s head snapped around to stare at the man across from him. If he’d been Muggle born reference could have been made of exploding overhead light bulbs, but Riley was pure blood. He well knew that when a witch or wizard married into a family they took on that family’s magical legacy. And his mother had apparently not been born a blonde.

“You’re my father?”

The words could barely be heard falling from numb lips, but were heard just the same.

“We are all your parents, Cygnus, love. Riley,” Narcissa answered, stroking his pale cheek to draw his gaze back to her. “Pure blooded children are made from more than blood and sinew, you know this. When we committed to each other we joined our magicks and Turan called on that combined magic to create you. I am not your mother in blood, but I did sacrifice in your making. You are my son.”

Riley felt frozen down to his very marrow. The weight of the book, of its so simply illustrated truth, was gone. He didn’t feel the fingers on his face, the lips dusting his skin with damp salt. How was he to react? The man he had wondered about all his life was feet away, watching him with eyes that had haunted him in the mirror. Never in a million years would he have accused his Mom of polygamy, yet her wife was sitting next to him! “I-“ What? What did he want to say? A thousand questions clamored in his head yet he couldn’t get a one out. A childhood spent alone in desperate secrecy and frustrated ignorance screamed at him, but he’d held it all down too long to let it out now. Always the good son.

“So Turan never talked of us?” Lucius quietly prompted.

“N-no, sir,” Riley shakily managed. “She doesn’t talk of her past, ever. Never answers –“ he swallowed, “If you all loved each other, then what happened?”

Narcissa sat back, but it was Lucius who spoke first, looking like he’d desire something stronger than the Ceylon tea in his cup. “I was a misguided, stubborn fool,” he said bitterly, true emotion briefly showing through. A glut of anger, regret, shame and, hardest of all, hopelessness. They were feelings Riley was all too intimate with of late himself, the Initiative rearing its poisonous head in his thoughts.

“Turan was the type to make friends with everyone,” Lucius continued more calmly, once more in control of himself. “A true Gryffindor. Narcissa and I grew up in more traditional homes that prided themselves on their pedigree. After graduation I involved myself in the politics Malfoys have engaged in for generations: keeping the Wizard world free of Muggle influences.”

Riley nodded. Similar debates waged in America, though on the more regional level. “We had unofficially performed a wizard marriage ceremony,” Lucius went on, “wedding our magicks. Officially, I was only engaged to Narcissa, whom my family approved of, though practically everyone knew Turan was also involved. How could they not? We were all living together and the Malfoy legacy was changing them both.

“I became involved with a radical advocate for Wizard purity. Looking back now I was so very young and naïve, but I truly believed I was helping to save our very society. Do they teach about Voldemort at Salem?”

“You became a Death Eater?” His father?

The older blond did not flinch from his open shock. “Yes, I did, though the Ministry has never found concrete proof to convict me. I thought I was doing the right thing and Narcissa supported me.”

“It was the first time I chose someone else over Turan,” Narcissa quietly added, shredding the bread of one of the sandwiches. “That should have warned me somehow, just how wrong we were.”

“Turan refused to have anything to do with the Dark Lord,” Lucius said. “We fought, several times. Accusations were made, harsh words spoken. Narcissa was going with me to meetings, leaving Turan at home alone though she barely spoke to us when we were all together. Then one night we came home she was gone and later that night we felt the surge of power and pain of her breaking out of our bond. Our last words were of anger. Our last memory of our swan one of tears.”

No wonder Mom never wanted to talk of her past. “Did you look for her? I mean, she had to be pregnant, right?”

Lucius shook his head. “The Dark Lord declared Turan a blood traitor. We were afraid of what would happen if we found her, but we were also hurt by her abandonment. We still believed in the righteousness of our cause then.” He paused, collecting his thoughts and banishing dark memories. “The backlash in severing our bond must have conceived you. Whether deliberately done or not, only Turan knows, though magic often acts by its own design.

“Narcissa and I married a few months later. A year after we had Draco, your younger brother. By the time Draco was born we had realized the nightmare we had trapped ourselves into, but it was too late. No one left the Dark Lord’s service once sworn.”

Riley stared down at the picture of a far more innocent time in his parents’ lives. “That kid killed him though, right?”

“Yes. Twice.” Lucius’ lips quirked at hearing the infamous Harry Potter dismissively referred to as “that kid”. “Draco was nearly two the first time and we tried to find Turan once we thought it was safe, but her trail was cold. Minerva did not even know where she had gone, not even under Veritaserum. We hoped for one day and then we received word of you.”

What they had done after remained unspoken, a heavy silence Narcissa banished kissing their son’s cheek, her genuine joy at having him there hard to resist.

“So you went to school in America?” she asked.

“The Salem Institute.” Riley carefully closed the book, returning it to the coffee table. Narcissa pressed a cucumber sandwich into his hand. “Ah, thank you. I apprenticed for my Masters in Transfiguration with Master Maggie Walsh of the American Aurors. She’s brilliant, has Masters in practically everything. She heads a branch called the Initiative with full carte blanche.”

Lucius frowned, exchanging a glance with Narcissa. “I have heard rumors of the Initiative, of their experiments in combining magic and Muggle science. They experiment on Dark Creatures, don’t they?”

Even though he’d accepted his change of heart Riley still felt the rise of his old defensiveness. “America is overrun with rogue Dark Creatures and demons. None of the treaties you have here exist in the US. Master Walsh is a legend and that she accepted me as a student?” Riley took a deep breath, firmly shoving away old angers and pride. “It took me a long time to wake up to the reality of what we were doing wasn’t justified or moral. I put in a transfer request to another division, but it needed her approval . . . So I left and Mr. Giles took me in.”

“Well, you are Lucius’ son, aren’t you?” Narcissa ruefully shook her head. “Idealistic and far too clever for your own good. Draco is an Auror as well, though he is only in enforcement. A Master in Transfiguration! How proud Turan must be!”

Riley blushed and fumbled to change the subject from himself. “Is Draco here? I mean, could I meet him?”

“Draco has a flat in London,” Lucius replied, standing after returning his empty cup to the server. “I will owl him to come around tomorrow. I’ll also look into this Maggie Walsh and see what can be done about re-instating your position.”

Scrambling to his feet Riley waved his hands, cucumber flying from his uneaten sandwich to plop on the rich carpeting. “Thank you, sir, but you don’t need to do that! I got myself into this mess and I can get myself out.”

“Nonsense. You are my son and it’s been too long since I last stirred up some honest mischief.” The older blond’s smile then was pure devilment and Riley swallowed nervously. Lucius reached out, taking the measure of Riley’s broad shoulder with his strong hands. “This has been a day of revelations, my son, and you’d probably like to think on them. A room has been prepared for you in the family wing. Take the opportunity to refresh yourself and then come down to dinner with any new questions you might have. We also have this curse to break, don’t we?”

Riley nodded, grateful for the offered respite. In everything he had learned this day he forgot that they had never answered his earlier questions: why had they kidnapped him from Hogwarts and what exactly did they want with him?

“Yes, let me take you up,” Narcissa purred, slipping her hands around his arm. “Does Turan know you are dating a Muggle? As your mère I expect better choices from you though I shudder to think of what kind of pure blood witches are to be found in the colonies!” Still chattering away she swept Riley from the room, the young man too bemused to put up any resistance.


~*~

Slowly shaking his head Xander sadly regarded his sullen lover and the Englishman straddling him. Wesley was refusing to look at him, but the youth could see the tension straining the man’s stoicism. Angel had seen Riley in the mirror and Wesley had seen . . . him. Even Blondie had shut his yap to appreciate that one. Spike had gone too far this time.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Xander finally said, trying to stretch in his ropes. “I’m sorry, Wes, but this just won’t work. I don’t have it in me to fuck two of you.” Blondie opened his mouth, gave Xander a considering look and wisely shut it. “You want me to fuck you, well, you’re going to have to take over for me with Spike.”

“Hey!” Spike yelped, staring desperately over at his lover. “I don’t want Nancy boy touching me!”

“Shut it, pumpkin,” Xander snapped. “This is all your fault. Whatya say, Wes? Do Spike and I’m all yours.”

~*~

And on that note: TBC.