Blanc et Noir

Disclaimer:

Alright- Most bits belong to J.K Rowling (The Great) The delicious blond hair idea belongs to Jason Isaacs (as does the good looks) and the, oh how shall I put it… the rug belongs to Sergeanne Golon! All the other (less notable) bits belong to Runespoor Oracle the Unaccredited.

Author's Notes:

This is chapter dedicated to all those people who wish they were Emily in bits of this chapter.

All right… finally we get round to a naughty bit… but… not with who you might expect! Nasty, naughty Lucius!

The Queen of the Night- What do I mean? Oh, he's just, well, enjoying the privileges that all handsome snobs get on FF.Net.

Hazard- Thanks so much for the wonderful review, I hope you like this chapter as much as the rest of the story.

The Beautiful Betrayal

Emily sat on the bed, hugging her knees. Everything here was so beautiful, it felt so strange, she thought, to be bathed in luxury when you normally lived in an Edinburgh garret with a grouchy Granduncle. It made Malfoy manor seem, well, unreal. Like she'd gone to heaven and the angels hadn't realized they'd got the wrong girl.

She looked at her reflection in a mirror surrounded by gold ornamentation, a small untidy girl with straw coloured hair and far too many pimples looked back. She felt like a delicious surge of pleasure as she lay down on the soft, velvety bed, like someone who's sneaked into an expensive hotel.

Just then, there was a knock on the door and Noir walked in. "How's your room?" she asked, flopping down beside Emily. Emily grinned, "Marvellous! Now I can see why Malfoy always acted like he owned the world, a place like this certainly makes you feel like it! Speaking of Malfoys', are you two what…?"

Noir was confused. What did Emily mean? Her Creator was her life and she was his, what else was there? Her thoughts must have been evident on her face because Emily said "You meant you're not umm… y'know!"

"No I don't!" said Noir, starting to get frustrated. "What do you mean, Em?" Emily smiled mysteriously. "Oh, nothing… I was just wondering. Anyway when's dinner here?"

Noir fiddled with the silver tassel on the bed curtains, trying to hide her embarrassment. "Erm… Do you know something Emily? I don't actually know because I don't eat dinner… I think the Creator has dinner around nine, well, he calls it supper, but you'd have to ask one of the house-elves," Noir said, smiling apologetically.

On cue, there was a tentative knock on the door. Jeanna came in, looking flustered, her left ear ticking nervously. "Master says, girls must join him for supper in the Small Dining Room. Master says to Jeanna, "Tell the young ladies (and here Jeanna scowled, as if to indicate that she didn't think they were worthy of such a title) to present themselves at suppertime, he says, so Jeanna does!" Then the head house-elf turned and slammed the door shut with a loud crash that left the small diamond chandelier tinkling.  

Noir and Emily looked at the door in astonishment, before bursting out laughing. "Did you see her face?" Emily giggled, "Tell the young ladies!" and here Emily did a cruel but accurate impression of the resentful elf. "I know," Noir laughed, relieved to have someone to joke with, "She hates me! She thinks I'm competing with her in caring for the Creator!" Then Noir had an idea. "Tell you what, let's go up to Narcissa's old room and choose some dresses for supper!"

Lucius sat at the head of the table, waiting for Noir and her friend. He sipped a glass of red wine from a fluted glass and looked down the table towards the large double doors at the other end of the room. Normally he didn't use the Small Dining Room (or the Large Dining Room, for that matter!) at all. It was depressing eating supper so formally by yourself, unless he felt like reveling in playing lord of the manor, but he hadn't felt that way for some time. Really, he thought to himself, their presence is simply an excuse to show off. Then he remembered something and took out a small crystal vial and tipped and few drips of a thick orange substance into a certain glass.

Lucius was still chuckling to himself when the girls walked in. Noir looked like the Mediterranean variety of mermaid in tight sea-blue robes which splayed out from the knees as she walked, he remembered Narcissa wearing that one to a party one night. But, unusually, it was Emily McKinnon to whom his attention was drawn. Her blond hair was unwilling coiled up into a bun and golden ringlets hung naturally around her ears. Her old fashioned, sequined, forest-green robes brought out the sparkle in her emerald eyes. She looked nervously around as if the opulence would bite her if she took a wrong step.

Lucius set his glass down delicately and looked coldly at the two girls. Then he rose, conducting them to their seats on either side of him with a wave of his pale hands. Noir leaned towards him, her elbows knocking aside some carefully laid silver cutlery. "Um… Creator, what am I going to eat?" she asked, trying not to look at Emily. Lucius fixed her with his enigmatic grey eyes and gave her a knowing smile. "Oh, I've arranged some – ah – silvery meat for you, my dear."

"Meat?" asked Noir, confused, "what do you mean meat?" Lucius took another sip of wine and left it lingering on his tongue. "My dear girl," he said nonchalantly, "what do you suppose I mean?" He looked at her, concerned. "Naturally, I am referring to rare unicorn, if you'll pardon the pun."

Noir was shocked. "You mean you killed one!" she said dangerously, her voice rising. Emily shifted uncomfortably. Lucius stared at his creation with the air of someone explaining that two plus two does not, in fact, equal three. "Noirkarti, I want this to be quite clear, do you mean to say that you did not kill unicorns?"

Noir was filled with horror. "But, you said I'd know what to do… and the unicorn showed me… so I assumed that's what Mcnair was… I thought you wouldn't… they're so beautiful… Oh, now I see! You told Mcnair to… You mean you actually thought eating surplus meat would make me happy?!" Noir stood up, knocking her chair backwards. She was trembling all over. I can't believe I was so stupid!" Noir yelled hysterically, before storming out of the dining room.

Lucius and Emily looked at each other awkwardly. "Well…" Emily began hesitantly, wondering what she'd thought she would say after that. Lucius waved a thin hand languidly. "Oh, she's just received a shock, that's all, I'm quite sure it'll be over by morning." He smiled gently at Emily, who blushed. "In the meantime, Noir told me you have the gift of White Necromancy…

Emily felt sure she was dreaming. This handsome, rich, charming man was talking to her! He was actually agreeing with her opinions! After the rejection Emily habitually faced at school, nothing had prepared her for… for Lucius.

She was lost in his grey eyes, pools of molten diamond capturing her reflection in their cool depths. Her head was spinning, what had she just drunk? They must be onto the third course by now…

Lucius was rather enjoying himself. My, this young thing was naïve! She hung on his every breath, it seemed. He leaned back in his high-backed dining chair, glancing at his reflection in the silvery goblets. Ah, yes, tonight would be fun…

Emily took Lucius's hand as he gracefully pulled back her chair. "Come," he stated imperiously. Her head felt fuzzy as he led her through countless halls, enfolding her in her dark robes…

Lucius steered the short girl into a small boudoir, that he reserved for… interludes. He gently pushed the girl onto a small couch, from whence she slid gently down onto the Persian rug by the flickering fire.

Lucius slid softly down next to her. "Ah, Emily…" he said slowly…

From that moment onward, Emily stopped belonging to herself. As her lips touched Lucius's, she experienced a whirlwind of unknown sensations. Everything came alive within her. With the promise of a fulfilment which nothing could stop, her pleasure rose to such heights that she was frightened by it. She threw herself back, gasping, trying to escape from those delicate hands whose every gesture brought new springs of rapture.   

Almost without her being aware of it, he undressed he and laid her out on the soft rug. With untiring patience he would bring her back to him, each time more yielding, warm and moaning, with fever bright eyes. She struggled and surrendered in turn, but when the emotion she could not control had reached its peak, she felt utterly relaxed. It seemed to her that a sudden feeling of well-being, mingled with a delicious, throbbing excitement, encompassed her body. With her eyes closed, Emily let herself flow along a stream of voluptuousness. She did not rail against the pain, because every particle of her body was furiously calling for domination by the man sliding against her. When he took her she didn't cry out, but her green eyes opened wide and reflected the blazing fire.

They lay there, on the pillow of their long blond hair, glistening in the firelight, staring into each other's eyes. Lucius began to laugh softly. With one finger he followed the firm, curve of her youthful body. Emily breathed a long sigh of contentment.

Only Lucius noticed the door open slightly and shut very quietly. Jeanna's ears perked up and she smiled, showing the few teeth that she had kept after all her Master's beatings.

Draco watched the elf skip down the hall, as if in triumph. He stuck his invisible head through the closed mahogany door. Emily lay on the rug, in a stupor. His father was pouring some Firewhisky from a silver decanter, still laughing quietly to himself.

He'll pay for that later, he thought. Nothing ever comes for free, I learnt that. "Oh, father!" Draco moaned, causing the hall statues to topple and smash and the paintings the swing on their hooks. "When will you learn?"

On the other side of the house, Noir was looking out of her window dejectedly. It was snowing, which seemed odd to her. Intricate snowflakes fell softly against the glass. She should have known better, she thought grimly. She'd been caught up in everything and hadn't remembered what Ginny knew this man was capable of.

There was a CRACK and Jeanna appeared, standing on her bed. "Jeanna is just wondering if mistress wants anything!" said the elf joyfully, with an odd glint in her bulbous eyes. Noir looked into the elf's mind… and saw the truth. There was another CRACK and Jeanna was left standing on the bed in an empty room.

Emily woke up with a headache. She glanced around: she was alone in her bedroom. She relaxed, letting the memory of last night's pleasures swirl around in her mind. It had been bliss…

Lucius drifted awake as the sun shone through a gap in his embroidered bed hangings. He felt strange, like a part of him was absent…

The sun was just beginning to rise over the wet fields as Noir looked at the Burrow. There. That was the place where she had known love of a true unforced kind. There had been no pretence. Noir hung back for a second, before striding purposefully towards Ginny's home. Her home.