The Mystery Wife

"Merlin," Lucius whispered.

"Oh, my," Narcissa repeated herself faintly.

"..." thought Draco.

"The potion was, as I take it, successful?" Severus said dryly. The voice was still deep and beautiful and capable of melting chocolate at fifty paces, but it was unmistakably a woman's voice. Severus blinked at it, and then looked down at his hands. They were rather smaller than they had been, a possibly serious hindrance to his absolutely peerless brewing skills.

"I would say it was quite a success," Lucius drawled appreciatively, and Narcissa shot him an acid glare. Severus' hands flew to his face, specifically to his nose. It was aquiline, now, and he no longer looked as if he had been hung up by that notable appendage to dry.

"You must want a mirror, dear," said Narcissa, Summoning one for him, and apparently falling right in with the notion that Severus Snape was another woman now.

Those sharp black eyes of his...hers...were gleaming with a stoic determination that was only occasionally interrupted by the obvious mental voice screaming 'WHAT THE BLIBBERING BLOODY FUCK DID WE JUST DO?!'

Severus climbed to his...her feet shakily, and her robes were loose around her. "Oh, hell," she moaned. "I'm short!"

"Not at all," Narcissa frowned, rising gracefully to her own feet. "Look, you're much taller than I am..."

It was true. Severus was perhaps five foot nine, hardly short, but she was several inches shorter than she had been as a man.

"You're tall for a woman, Severus," Narcissa said consolingly. "And you're absolutely stunning. How did you manage...I mean..."

"I made a point of it," Severus admitted. "There is a power in beauty that I have come to appreciate over the years, not possessing any of my own. I engineered this potion very carefully. If I am to be a woman, I might as well be a beautiful one."

"Very sensible," the equally beautiful Narcissa beamed at him. Her. Whatever.

Severus was carefully shrinking her robes down to fit her, with an increasingly rueful expression. "I don't suppose you have that mirror handy?" she asked Narcissa. Narcissa held the mirror up for her, and she peered into it, studying her new face for a long moment.

"Damn, I'm good," she said with no trace of modesty whatever.

"Yes, you are," Lucius leered.

"Shut up, Lucius," Severus and Narcissa chorused.

"..." thought Draco.

"Alright," Severus said crisply, returning to business and resuming her seat. Narcissa did the same. "At a minimum, I'll need enough to cover my expenses. Start up costs for a laboratory with a residence, in the Wizarding Quarter of Paris. I'll market my inventions to maintain a steady income while I work. You'll have fifteen percent of the profits to cover the initial investment, and five percent in dividends after the investment is repaid."

"You've clearly given this some thought," said Lucius.

"You might as well take the money as a gift, Severus," said Narcissa. "We certainly owe you. You've saved more than Draco's life; you've preserved his soul. Let us do this much for you."

"The dividends won't keep you in caviar, if the family fortune is ransacked," Severus shrugged, "but they will keep you from starving if you husband them carefully."

"We should work a fee in there for Draco's keeping, as well," Lucius murmured thoughtfully. "You'll be giving him food, clothing and shelter, and he'll need an allowance for incidentals."

"So, what, you're just sending me off with him? Her?" Draco corrected himself with another glance at his old Potions Master that managed to turn into a stare.

"Severus is correct, Draco, you need to go off and finish your schooling. There's absolutely no sense in remaining here to be arrested with me. The same goes for you, darling," Lucius said to Narcissa, taking her hand and kissing it. "Go to Paris with them. Help Severus learn how to act, move and dress like a woman. Keep Draco out of trouble."

"No, love, absolutely not," Narcissa said firmly. "I'm staying here with you, whatever comes. But I agree that Draco needs to go with Severus."

"Go with Paris to Professor Snape," said Draco, still staring. "I mean, go with Professor Snape to Paris..."

"Yes, go with Professor Snape to Paris, idiot boy," Severus said irritably. "After a side trip home to Yorkshire. It will allow me to tie up a few remaining loose ends, and it will allow your parents' Factor a few days to procure us a place to live and work."

"Yorkshire," Draco repeated dully. "And then Paris. I'm being sold off to you and sent to live in a foreign bloody country in thrall to you, and nobody seems to have a problem with this?!"

"And why should anyone have a problem with this?" Severus inquired icily. "I am helping you to avoid prison and attain your NEWTs and a Mastery, and undoubtedly saving your life again, not that I could expect gratitude..."

"And just how grateful are you going to expect me to be?" the boy rejoined hotly. "Will the occasional handjob suffice?"

"Draco!" Narcissa gasped, scandalized.

"It might," Severus growled ominously, to shock Draco into shutting up.

Surprisingly, it worked. Draco slouched in his chair and scowled while his mother, his father and Professor Snape negotiated his future for him. And he raised not one single objection in his own defense when he was told that for the entire three year period, he was going to have to be faithful to Professor Snape. In other words, celibate. Professor Snape might be serious about not using him for sex, but apparently no one else was allowed to, either.

For three years.

One thousand ninety-five days, maybe more if a leap year was in there anywhere, which it almost certainly was.

Merlin's balls. He was going to die.