Blanc et Noir

Disclaimer:

I do not own this – no one on fan fiction owns anything we write here!

Author's Notes:

Oh my God. I'm writing another chapter. Why, I don't know, could it be simple relief at no more exams?! This is it ladies and gentlemen, the final chapter I have finally got around to writing. Unless, of course, a sequel comes into my head.

Aspects of Love

Lucius looked blearily around the room. Bright colours swirled around. He focused on a pair of angry green eyes. "You really are pathetic," Emily sneered. "You didn't think that last night," a gasping voice that must've been his, replied. A hand connected painfully with his face. "I drain my energy healing you and then you remind me of how you practically raped my with that orange stuff marked "Potent Exciter," that I found in your liqueur cabinet!? I DON'T WHY I DON'T JUST-"

A cold but calm hand laid itself on Emily's shoulder. "Ssh. Emily, you just saved me. Not just this Creator of mine." Noir seemed to glide towards Lucius. "What happened, Creator?" she said, sitting down beside him and pulling the coverlets up around his chin. "Draco, he…" Lucius scrunched his eyes up, treacherous tears refusing to remain unshed. "He… I… I did it. Killed… killed everything always, forever… No music… ugly, bloody, wanted… wanted love, got… always got death… lonely."

Noir and Emily and the amazed Healer stared down at him. "Are we in 'A Christmas Carol' or what?" Emily scoffed. She was silenced with a glance from Noir. "Creator," Noir said slowly, drawing out the syllables out, "do you love me?"

Lucius thought about this carefully. In his current state his emotions ruled with all the cruelty of a vengeful being that had been imprisoned for too long. The tears fell quicker and his shaking fists gripped the blankets tighter. Then everything seemed to crystallize. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes! YES! "Yes," the word escaped softly from trembling lips. Maroon eyes locked with washed out grey ones.

"Just a sec!" Emily squealed, before scrambling out of the room, the door crashing behind her. Lucius and Noir stared at the swinging door. Then Noir said "Well, Creator, then I guess I'll have to forgive you, even if the world – especially my family! – can't."


Emily searched frantically for her pack; she knew it was here somewhere! Where had those bloody elves stuffed it away?! She snatched the coverlets from the bed and dropped to the ground to look under it. There. She swiped at it with her hand and eventually managed to hook it with her index finger and pulled it into the light.

Smelly underwear and socks greeted her as she unzipped the top. She tossed them aside and delved into her pack. She found a hard rectangle in the softness of a jumper. Her holiday reading: 'Myths of the Necromantic by Nihlius Blackly,' Emily flipped to chapter 12, 'Noirkarti Creation,' and scanned the relevant passage.

"In the 'Necromantic Chronicle,' the Benedictine monk, Brother Henri, wrote of the activities of a notorious wizard in his home town of Darnes. "Strange things did happene; terrible sounds did emerge from the evil doer's house. Young Marie, dead of the pox, was taken from her grave, where she had been buried in God's grace."

Marie emerged from his house at evensong. So cold and bluish was she. Alive, raised by the Devil's magic!"

Here we have proof that the unfortunate muggle, Marie, was a Noirkarti as the author states that she was "Bluish" rather than the green-grey colours a zombie would turn. In a later scroll Brother Henri provides evidence of a transformation experts are hardy able to credit. This is the only proof of such an occurrence as the Noirkarti Creation Act was passed by the High Council barely ten years later.

"Marie was seen living with the Devil's Servant. They would create strange and evil charms, cursing our town. But one morn I did see the Damned One and his Servant kiss by St Jerome's lake. There then occurred a wondrous thing. Marie became as she had been. Not the Damned Creature the Devil's Magic had mad her, but she did appear as she had been…"

It takes love, Emily thought. It takes love to make them as they were. That's what ancient magic's about! A kiss… Emily was overjoyed for her friend – even if a tiny bit of her brain was thinking about the conclusive proof of Blackly's Theory, that her own book would provide.

Mr. Malfoy and Noir were talking quietly when she skidded into the room. Panting, she wheezed "Kiss her!" at Lucius, who raised his eyebrows. "Just do it!" Emily screeched. Noir was just about to ask her friend why she wanted to see them kiss, when soft lips enclosed hers. Lucius regretted it immediately. Were his lips frozen on?!

Noir, on the other hand, was in ecstasy. It seemed to her that the Creator was merging with her, his life flowing into her as it never had before. She was wrapped up in a ball of bliss.

Emily watched, rapt, as Noir's face regained a healthy glow, her eyes opened bright and hazel, her hair shimmering red and a pink lustre crept into her busy lips.

A dark aura surrounded Lucius and Noir, swirling and concentrating in Lucius's fingertips, which clung to Noirs surrounding arms.

The connection broke and it was Ginny who pulled away. "Hello Malfoy," she said stonily. "Noir?" he quivered. "No, Mr. Malfoy, you healed me… fully."

"But…"

"I am no longer your slave."

"Please understand, my dear…"

"Your dear?! I have ceased to become your dear or your anything else!"

"But I thought…"

"I can't imagine you think anything worth hearing. Mr. Malfoy, good day."

There was a brief CRACK and Virginia Weasley was gone. Emily and Lucius stared at each other in shock. "Well… I don't think you need me anymore!" Healer Peake laughed nervously.