(Corridors) Panto

[Narcissus Drachen]

Dear Mozess,

It’s that time to finish what we started. Meet me in our place.

Narcissus

Scrolling up the tiny piece of parchment and tapping it sharply with his wand, making it seamless. Like an egg hatching, four dragonfly wings broke from its sides, newborn and jittery for a moment as they stretch, buzzing like minute propellers. Narcissus watched as it rose swiftly out of his hand and dived toward the window, already knowing where Mozess might be.

Walking over he closed the shutters behind it, making sure no valiant Quidditch player could fly past and accidentally see the homemade laboratory that had been set up in the abandoned History of Magic classroom. Even in tall towers designed for cursed princesses, people aside from heroes could always see their way inside, and what Narcissus and Mozess had been brewing for just under a month was For Their Eyes Only…

[Mozess Mirari]

'Faster! Faster!' Mozess berated herself as she sped through corridors and classrooms as quickly as she could. She began to wonder why, if they were both Slytherin, they chose one of the tallest towers in the entire castle to conduct their experiments as opposed to one of the unoccupied dungeons chambers. 'I suppose to keep any of the furry creatures down there from tainting it...' she thought, her breath slowly coming in heavier gasps as she took the last flight of stairs two at a time.

She reached the final landing and heaved open the heavy wooden door which led to the haphazard potion lab the two Slytherins had created. She shot a disdainful glare at Drachen, "You know I hate you for picking this location, right?" she questioned between deep gulps of air. She could not hold onto her anger for long though, she had never been able to around Narky. He was practically a younger brother to her.

She skipped over and mussed his hair before looking over their large boiling pot, "Hm... looks like mud and smells like feet... apprently we've done something horribly right." She smiled, giving the gruelish liquid a good stir, lifting the ladle and watching the potion drop--with a satisfactory squerlch sound--back into the basin. "So, any idea what we're going to do with it?" she asked, hopping up onto a window ledge, her red curls bouncing carelessly around her head. "You know... we could become each other, to make sure we did it properly. Like a test run before we really start wreeking havoc with it."

[Narcissus Drachen]

The door creaked open, dust sweeping about Mozess’s feet as she gambolled in, red hair streaming behind her. ‘Of course I do, it’s why I picked it! I hate you, Mirari, you know that.’ He replied matter-a-factly with a grin, grumbling as she fluffed up his hair with her hand and came to stand before the sludge, fiddling with it in grotesque curiosity. She sloshed it around, disturbing what had been sat festering for weeks, a pungent stench rising from the trapped broth below. Narcissus gagged, wafting his arm about in front of him. ‘Your feet not mine,’ He fussed, straightening out his fringe.

The heat quivering up from the concoction had made Narcissus’s nose runny and he wiped his nose on his sleeve, glowering as Mozess caught him. Two chipped old vials rested at the edge of the table and Narcissus retrieved them, glass tinkling pleasantly as he juggled them from one hand to another before presenting one to Mozess. ‘I haven’t picked my poison yet, but I’m definitely thinking it’ll be a girl. My mother teases it was my true calling, but I’m far too clever.’ He tried, blowing Mozess an exaggerated kiss before climbing over the table and toppling off the other side to avoid her smack. ‘You?! I’m honoured! ’ Narcissus laughed as he walked over to the far wall, something tall and rectangular covered by a yellowing sheet. He whipped it off revealing a mirror, the black glass polished silver, their reflections like dark black and white photographs. ‘This is worth a fortune apparently – it belongs to Professor Vickers. I felt a great sense of achievement stealing it. Shame he didn’t predict that one coming.’

Coiling a single hair around his finger, Narcissus plucked it from his scalp and dangled it in front of Mozess as he reached her. ‘I bet you I’ll be silver… or a nice purple.’ He mused, prompting her to do the same.

[Mozess Mirari]

She rolled her eyes. “Of course you hate me. We all know the only person you truly love is you, Nark, darling,” she replied casually, fluttering her eyelashes in a dramatic display of sardonic flirtation. She laughed; this was one of the times she was truly glad to be back at school. Narcissus was one of the few people in the entire world who she could actually stand to be around for more than ten seconds. Even if he was a self-centered ego-maniac; in fact that was part of why she liked hanging out with him. He cared so much about himself, that very rarely did it matter at all what she did in his presence. She could’ve been running around stark naked and it probably wouldn’t have made a difference… though there would be no chance of that anyways. It would just be too odd.

“Hm… more like Zach’s feet,” she said, shooing the pungent odor away from her nostrils. She laughed as the ridiculous feigned romance continued, “You should be honored. There are very few people in the world who will ever have the chance to be me. You had best treasure this moment for the rest of your life, lest I do something absolutely terrible while I’m in your skin…” she snatched the hair out of his hand before he had a chance to pull it away at her threat. In return she gingerly searched the base of her scalp for a suitable specimen of herself. She plucked one of the scarlet coils and placed it in Narcissus’ palm.

“I’m impressed!” she said as the mirror was revealed. “Not that I’m condoning your behavior by any means; Vickers is one of the few worthwhile professor in this school, and you shouldn’t torture him so… but still, stealing from a Medium is definatly an enviable trait.” Her expression of awe soon changed to one a mirth as he started on about the potion though, “Silver? Purple? I bet you’ll be all mottled yellow and orange, probably with a horrid texture to boot…” she snickered slightly when she caught a scowl from her fellow Slytherin. “I’m only joking and you know it. I’m sure you’ll be bright red and taste exactly like the first bit of cherry jam in spring…” the last part of her sentence was stilted by escaping laughs. “Only one way to find out though…” she said as she filled her beaker with the thick repulsive liquid, then added her friend’s hair and waited for the reaction...

The vile liquid gurgled and fizzed and churned in its container, as if trying for everything it was worth to escape from its tiny chamber... "You sure are fussy," she said, swirling the potion around to try and settle its contents. As the bubbles dissipated the transformation of the potion was quite stunning; the phial now held a flawlessly translucent potion, with such a fair bronzy-golden tone she might've thought she was holding the most amazing, most refined glassfull of honey in the world. She made a face at Narcissus' "Must you be so showy?"

[Narcissus Drachen]

‘Hmm. You talk the talk, Mirari, but can you walk the walk?’ He challenged devilishly, snatching his hand away with her hair looped across his palm. ‘I’ll make you the next victim of that dark horse Hubbles. I’ll make you famous!’ He said vibrantly, eying her hair with a smirk. ‘You have split ends, by the way.’

Mozess dunked his strand. Narcissus narrowed his eyes, studying the treacherous potion as it gargled and hiccoughed in the vial, blushing a blotchy red. He scowled at Mozess invectively before it distilled, the thick Technicolor blistering into a smooth, burnt gold. He leaned forward and peered at it, smooth sap about to turn to amber. ‘How prissy... splendid! So me. And don’t you know it, Mirari…’ A vulpine grin spread across his face and he hummed smugly, sticking his tongue out at her before whirling round and dipping his own vial, the mud dribbling down the side. ‘Now, don’t be jealous if you’re a scabby brown or anything. I always imagined you to be a sort of mardy greyish-green anyway…’ Narcissus mimicked Mozess’s raised eyebrow and stared her out as he pushed her hair into the vial, corking it with his thumb and shaking it violently. He raised it between them, biting his lip in anticipation, catching the other Slytherin’s eye and sending her a taunting look.

A scent like the fresh air over the lake drifted into Narcissus’s nostrils, and he smiled as the sludge thinned out, donning a handsome ruby sheen. Mozess was a liquid gem and her surface sparkled in the dapple sunlight filtering through the shutters. ‘You’re adorable, Mirari. You remind me of Valentine's day!’ He teased, wiggling it in front of her nose.

[Mozess Mirari]

She laughed heartily, "Narcissus, love. You know better than anyone that my warnings had best be heeded. There's nothing empty about a threat coming from me, so just be nice or I'll give all your lovely mirrors to graduating Gryffindor girls; that way their last memory of you, before heading off into the world where you'll never get your things back, will be selfless, kind, and--dare I say it--flirtacious even?!" wide-eyed she gasped, holding a hand to her heart as if truly in deep and dire shock at the very mention of Narcissus caring about anyone but himself. She shrugged at his mention of her damaged hair, "If my grooming habits insult you so much, you can always just give me back my hair and go find someone with better hair care practices to impersonate..." but he was already mixing the potion together.

"VILE!" she gagged at the site of her potion, nearly wretching out the window in which ledge she was perched. "It's so..." she shuddered, "...girly!" She eyed the potion as if it were some horrible bug, "And do you want to know what's worse?" she asked as she leapt from her seat to stand next to Narcissus, holding the potions next to each other, "Together we're the Queens of Gryffindor." She skittered away from him and continued rambling before he could say anything in response... "There's only one problem I can think of right now, though-" her eyes lightened to a bemused pinkish-peach hue, a smirk playing on her lips. "-you're going to have to give me your clothes before I go streaking across Hogwarts as you." With that she downed the pretty, warm-hued potion and leapt behind the dark mirror.

The liquid was sweet and tangy on her tongue, like pineapple and brown sugar and lemonade. It was bubbly, and tickled going down her throat, the sensation growing and tingling throughout the rest of her body. She felt like a boat on storm-tossed waters; wobbly and sloshed around. She loosened her tie and threw it over the top of the mirror, her Slytherin uniform flying next, followed by her shoes and socks, "You've got precious little time left, Narky, dear..." she said, her voice warbling as her slacks accompanied the rest of her clothes in a pile on the opposite side of her impromptu changing room.

It all felt very odd; her scalp burned as her long curls receded into shorter, straight fringe. Her pale complexion darkened to a warm olive. She was stretching taller [she truly hated being short, so this was a welcomed change], and her muscles became more toned and defined. The most remarkable thing to her, however, was her eyes. She couldn't see them, no. But she could see through them; plainly, clearly. No shifting due to other peoples emotions, no mottling because of her own. She felt like she might cry, but she wasn't sure if it was because she was relieved... or scared. She took a deep breath to settle herself before calling, "Hurry up, will you? You haven't got all day, you know."

[Narcissus Drachen]

‘Humph. I am generous, I think,’ He responded, idling past the black mirror and leaning his hips silkily, slipping into a queer strut for effect. ‘And don’t think to go stealing my things and handing them out, you rogue – I’d give them all kisses before I gave away my Venetian cloak!’ He fretted, thinking it scandalous that the girls could so freely invade the boy’s beds. At night slipper clad feet would drum softly up and down the staircase outside his door, sighs and smiles from girl’s kisses left on boy’s foreheads. Narcissus gasped in protest at being called a Gryffindor – although queen was actually very accurate – but quickly settled as Mozess mentioned swapping clothes. ‘If we’d had this idea earlier we might’ve been able to prepare. I would’ve lent you my dragon hide boots. The lining is grey silk!’ Mozess had already vanished behind the black mirror, leaving Narcissus no where to disrobe but under the starch coloured sheet. Holding the vial gingerly in his teeth he whisked it off the dirty floorboards, a thin ghost ruffling overhead, stepping under.

Narcissus clapped his palms together as he heard his own voice come out of Mozess, epicene and tight-laced, exactly how he had always imagined it. Mozess’s salty touch made it all the more polished and he let out a genteel laugh. ‘Coming, handsome. Bottoms up...’ Narcissus titled his head back, the cream-textured concoction sliding over his tongue. Savouring it like a gourmet pudding the Slytherin patted his tongue about his mouth, humming in pleasant surprise. ‘You taste like red wine, Mirari – OH!’ He clasped a hand over his mouth, throat buzzing as it quivered and shrunk, the Adam’s apple melting away, Mozess’s female pitch replacing his. He swallowed it down into nothing, the ribs around his chest bending like piano keys, hips broadening, leaving him off balance and terrifically light, and all through his knees and ankles he contracted and sunk, feet leaving the sides of his shoes. Electricity scurried along his hairline and he stared, captivated as long red waves washed over his shoulders and back, wild and lustrous – a word he never thought he would to describe Mozess.

Under the sheet Narcissus swayed and twirled, tossing his head about dramatically. ‘I’m growing my hair when this is over.’ He called delightedly.

Although having always thought himself skinnier than Mozess Narcissus’s robes hung off his frame, and listening to her dumping her shoes over the top of her makeshift dressing room Narcissus had to simply shrug his shoulders and wiggle his hips, attire shedding off him like snakeskin. Trying very hard not to look at his new physique, Narcissus blindly shuffled over to the mirror under the sheet, lifting the hem and trading her pile of robes for his. ‘I have a feeling they’ll be a perfect fit, madam.’ He chimed, bowing like a shapeless ghost, revelling in tugged on girls’ clothes for the first time. ‘Do you like the way you sound then? I’d never shut up with a voice like this. So soft, so smooooth...’ It was possibly the only seductive thing anyone would ever hear Mozess say.

The sheet crumpled to the floor, gathered around Narcissus’s feet, and he turned and looked into the black glass mirror, Mozess Mirari smiling back in all her likeness. 'Come out then, break the wonderful news. How do I look?'

[Mozess Mirari]

"Hm... that's not such a bad idea, you know. Going around kissing all the girls in school..." she was quiet for a moment, contemplating the possibility of adverse affects, "Well, not all of them... Probably just Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. I don't want to end up with some sort of horrible infection after being you, afterall. Besides, I'm sure they'd all be more than flattered having you be their first kiss... It's obvious with most of them that they're yearning for any human contact... and the ones that aren't are in such sickeningly devoted relationships it's not even worth trying to break them up."

She reached around the mirror and picked up Narcissus' clothes, doing an odd dance behind the mirror as she put them on, "You've got really tight hips." She commented, swaying side to side as she pulled on a pair of soft black trousers that could only belong to Nark. "What are these? Egyptian silk or something?" she asked before coming out from behind the mirror to stare at her/himself. She laughed as she looked down on Nark, impersonating her, as he danced around in front of the mirror playing with her hair, "And then we'll see how long you can keep your ends unsplit," she taunted, not even bothering to button up the irridescent maroon shirt she'd just slipped on.

Mozess took a deep breath, "Huh..." she muttered. "Something smells really good..." she began wandering aimlessly around the room, sniffing cupboards and old desks and wall hangings... 'What is it that smells so much like-' she sniffed again 'Honeysuckle and-' another deep whiff of air 'Jasmine. Honeysuckle and Jasmine.' She kept taking deep whiffs of air. The scent seemed to follow her throughout the room before she realized, "It's you!" she pointed at Narcissus who was still staring at herself in the mirror. Mozess lifted up the delicate wrist originally belonging to her friend and breathed in, "You smell amazing..." she stated, completly dumbstruck that anyone could smell so flowery naturally.

She laughed as Narcissus went on and on, rambling senselessly, her voice carrying through the room, "Oh, shut up. You talk enough as is without having my charming vocals." She snickered and moved to stand behind herself as she and Narcissus gazed at each other through the mirror, "You look fine..." she stated lazily, "But I look hott." She wasn't sure if she was talking about Narcissus in her body, or herself in his. Either way, it didn't really matter at this point. She laughed and finished putting on Nark's wardrobe, "Now then, we've only got an hour until all of this wears off," she stated, getting quite excited at the prospect of pretending to be her friend for an hour, "I think the first thing we should do is make sure we both have extra changes of clothes for when we turn back. Then we can start wreaking havoc among our peers."

This truly was incredible! Where usually her eyes would have gone through varied shades of yellow and purple at the exciting thoughts of trying to befuddle and harass other students, therein warping and blurring her vision something fierce, she could now go through as many emotions as crossed her mind and she still saw things with as much clarity as ever! "Are you alright, Nark?" she asked as she raised his head from tying his Italian leather shoes, noticing that her eyes were a surprisingly brilliant violet color. "You really are vain if you're getting that excited about staring at yourself like this."

[Narcissus Drachen]

Narcissus stopped twirling as Mozess emerged, the spitting image of himself and already in tune with his walk; although it thrilled him to think that they had had the same stride already. ‘Oh, flirt.’ He declared, watching as she posed with her shirt lazily unbuttoned.

Instantly he could tell the difference between them as they looked from one reflection to the other, and it was their expressions. Narcissus had given Mozess’s usually dignified features a trashy pout, eyes hooded, a sleazy habit Narcissus had picked up in his third year. In turn Narcissus was moved to see himself in an entirely new light – meditative and harmonious, though a touch of savage intelligence twinkled in the dark irises, a fire burning deep underwater. He made a note to practice it in the future.

‘Stop sniffing me – that’s reserved for my special clients!’ He said, alarmed and near – was it possible? – bashful as she moved around the room, arriving upon herself. As she turned her back Narcissus quickly pulled the front of her robes against his nose, inhaling. Girls always had their own non-descript sweetness that was like nothing else, each one always unique in her own way. Mozess’s scent was a sleepy perfume that reminded him of dark colours. He gave her a balking look as she finally arrived at his side, throwing his hair over his shoulder as they inspected one another’s reflections. ‘I have no idea which of us you’re talking about, but either way I agree – we are sublime. You have wonderful nail beds, you know.’ He held up his hand for inspection, nodding smugly, forgetting for a moment that his were somewhere else.

At Mozess’s quipped her frowned and grimaced down at her, perplexed. ‘I wasn’t doing anything,’ He started, looking at the mirror, giving Mozess’s body a once over as if it would insult her. ‘It’s your face doing things, I’m perfectly – ‘ He then saw it, flashing in shafts of light. Violet. ‘Oh my. Mozess, look at me…’ Narcissus placed two fingers under her chin, bringing her gaze to his. He raised his eyebrows and gave a pert little smirk. ‘You knew that would happen, didn’t you?’ He tested, placing his hands on his hips, causing Mozess to look very suggestive. ‘I had no idea Polyjuice Potion could pass on those kinds of traits! Isn’t that remarkable? Imagine what abilities you could pick up from the right people if you could only get a sample of them…’

Narcissus traced his fingers over his lips as he paced to pace thoughtfully, a calculating gleam in his eye. Biggerstall. He looked sharply at Mozess. ‘I wasn’t that excited though. What colour are they now?’ He bent down in front of her, eyes wide.

[Mozess Mirari]

She laughed at his snub of her stance, “So I’m catching onto how to be you right quickly, aren’t I?” she asked smugly, batting her eyelids innocently, and laughing mentally at the idea of Narcissus being innocent… Playing innocent was quite a strong trait of his, but that was usually more for sarcastic dramatization than anything else. Speaking of dramatization… “Stop making me look like some second-rate corner harlot.” She demanded, noticing the rather smarmy expression plastered across her face in the mirror. “I mean honestly, if you end up whoring me out while you’re me I at least want to be known as a high-class hooker.”

Her ribs were beginning to hurt from laughing so hard during the course of this experiment, “Oh dear…” she gasped, trying to speak between fits of mirth, “So you’ve apparently got experience with this type of clientele?” she asked, taking another deep whiff of herself just to irk him. “I can see why you hold out though… do you put narcotics in your body wash? This is positively intoxicating… Hm, Narcissus; my personal drug of choice…” she laughed.

She looked down at her own hands when he mentioned her cuticles and began snickering madly, “You’ve got to be kidding me… French tips?” she held up her—now—well manicured hands, a clear coat of nail polish on every finger, tipped by a stripe of white for a truly healthy looking effect. “Narky, darling, I know you like to keep up your appearances, but this is a bit much even for you.” She wiggled her fingers, watching the light play off her shiny nails, “I suppose it’s true what they say; you can never judge a person until you’ve walked a mile in their over-priced shoes…”

She was a bit surprised when she was forced, once again, to look at herself. She shrugged, “Well, I couldn’t be sure. I figured something along the liens of that would happen though… well, sort of.” She began feeling a bit flustered, truly surprised that her Empathy skills had traded over in the Polyjuice Potion… and then she saw it. As he bent down, looking eye to eye, she realized something was quite amiss. Although he was acting truly inquisitive and intrigued by this new development—which would’ve turned her eyes a bright cornflower blue—instead they were a rather doleful and unnerved pale brown. She bit her lip, thought back to their joyous conversation from moments earlier and… lo and behold… her eyes, the eyes in her own face splayed over Narcissus personality, turned a mirthful golden color. She laughed, “Oh, this is gonna be fun!”

[Narcissus Drachen]

Glancing at Mozess’s brand new nails Narcissus gave a coy smile, humming playfully at her. ‘I would’ve thought you’d notice sooner – I flash them enough…’ He narrowed his eyes unfavourably as he spotted the small chip in the semiopaque varnish, recalling bashing his hand against the cauldron just before Mozess had arrived. Such an attentive draught. ‘Hmmm yes, but I don’t think we’ll get even half a mile if we don’t head out now. It’s been nearly ten minutes – where are we going to go?’ The bell suddenly sounded from far away across the sunny turrets, the din of commotion rising from the floors below. Narcissus picked up Mozess’s narrow shoes and slipped them on, the small heel that all feminine boots seemed to have, regardless of purpose, persuading him to tauten his posture. So this was their majestic secret. ‘Would you like to lay down any ground rules? Personally you can do what you want with my with – I’m going to ruin your life, Mirari.’ Narcissus threw his head back and sent her a flashy smile, leaning his hips evocatively. It went without saying that, in this instance, no act was heinous enough to prohibit their fun.

Narcissus found that Mozess could arch her eyebrows to stunning effect, and it thoroughly offended him that she had never utilised it properly in front of him, as if she hadn't thought to impress him. It was immensely strange, examining himself as he usually did, but without truly being himself. His thoughts slipped over toward Mozess and at his own form, feeling in himself that familiar moment where he was unable to take his eyes off the smooth, thin mouth, so clever with its many smiles and pouts, that sculpted hair stroking a neck that swept down into slender shoulders, so relaxed and graceful they deserved wings. But this time he was not looking at this through a mirror, and Narcissus suddenly wanted to just stand and stare at himself for the entire hour, to take Mozess’s newly formed hand in his and finally understand what it was like to be held by him, to know why these girls smiled so when his skin touched theirs. To experience that all encompassing happiness that he always suspected to...

The clouds passed over the sun and the light blinking through the shutters vanished, the air taking on a new, attic room chill. ‘Why aren’t you looking at me?’ He asked, frowning, forgetting about the locked door that led to their adventure. ‘Don’t you want to know what you really look like? What everyone else sees when you cry, or when you smile? I see you, Mirari, and you barely take the time to glance in the mirror. Aren’t you curious?’ Narcissus felt fragile and serious, iridescent eyes staring, unable to understand anyone's disinterst in themself.

[Mozess Mirari]

She snickered, "I think I just stated my ground rules. Beyond that you may do whatever you like as me. Personally, I think I may go snog Professor Fagin." She doubled over as she caught the aghast look on her own face as Narcissus gagged at the thought of his own silky lips pressed against those of the decrepit old Muggle Studies Professor. "Nope... still too suseptible to disease," she spoke decidedly. "I'll find something fun to do though."

Her joyful gambol about the room came to a steady halt as Narcissus began speaking again. She tilted her head, a mild distant curiosity sparkling in Narcissus almond eyes, "Only a fool takes time to admire himself in a mirror, just to step away and forget what he looks like," she stated an old muggle proverb. She shrugged, "I'm affected by so many people's emotions, I suppose I've lost attatchment to my own. Besides, I wouldn't want to see myself crying..." 'Not again anyways', she thought, remembering all the newspaper articles where her picture had been taken beside her parents' graves.

"And when I'm smiling I'd rather live in the moment, enjoying the mirth of the activity as opposed to stepping out and away from it just to see how happy I am. The joy is lost in the action of sight," her shoulders bounced slightly as she looked down at Narcissus. "Besides, I'm not nearly as beautiful as you are, so why would I have need to spend hours in front of a mirror admiring myself, only to step out of the girls dormitory and have to face inferiority next to you?" she couldn't help but start laughing again at these statements.

[Narcissus Drachen]

‘Well I’ve never heard of anyone only listening to a piece of music once just because they vaguely remember what it was like the first time! Why don’t we burn all these portraits? I’ve seen them a thousand times before, so I suppose it doesn’t really matter…’ Narcissus walked toward a tall painting of a man, about twenty and chiselled with long sunny hair, Roman toga draped around his hips assertively. Narcissus bit his lip laughing, empowered that this man, so much more beautiful than himself, had been imprisoned in this empty room, god of lonely places. They speculated each other in the same dallying way. The brat princes understood one another. ‘Send me up in smoke.’ The august man raised his hands in dispassionate surrender, smirking at Mozess apologetically. Narcissus laughed again and walked away, swinging his hips in the mirror. ‘Don’t you think you’re beautiful, Mirari? I do. Although…’ Narcissus wrinkled his nose at himself in the mirror, cheap wine that was surprisingly good. He eyed her on the floor behind him, considering the next step. ‘Let’s go. I have a sixth year Ravenclaw from Herbology with your name on him.’