Yeah...the timeline for this is all wonky, lol.
Warning: implied infidelity/sexual themes.
A Mask Disturbed
The Greengrass-Nott wedding was a gorgeous affair, replete with opulent decor and the most distinguished of guests. Lucius had been honored to recieve an invite, of course, but not terribly surprised.
Now, he extended his arm towards his wife as musicians filled the ballroom with dulcet tones. "Dance with me," he murmured.
Narcissa looked as though she might refuse at first, but she was too well-mannered to leave him hanging. "Of course."
He whirled the thin woman around gracefully, his stuffy childhood dancing lessons paying off at last. Narcissa was soon smiling and laughing. It made her look so much younger than her twenty-two years, Lucius noticed.
A tap on his shoulder shook him from his thoughts.
"Mind if I cut in?" Rabastan Lestrange asked, bowing slightly.
Narcissa looked to Lucius, who nodded his approval. As Rabastan and Narcissa disappeared between the other noble attendees, he headed for the balcony off of the ballroom.
The cool night air felt like a soothing balm to Lucius' skin. It was far more quiet outside, away from the music and the dancing, and Lucius savored it. He was so used to being surrounded by people at all times—in part because of his status, and in part because of his allegiance to the Dark Lord. Moments like this were rare, special. He didn't have to wear his usual mask.
"A Knut for your thoughts?" a familiar female voice said.
Lucius turned and let his eyes roam over the woman standing there. She had beautiful red curls and a smile so bright that Lucius nearly closed his eyes at the sight of it.
"Molly," he murmured, dipping his head deferentially. "I'm surprised to see you here."
"Yes, well, I confess I only came in the hopes of seeing you," was Molly's coy reply.
Lucius glanced around to be sure that they were alone. "You flatter me, Molly, but I am a married man now."
Molly took a step closer and Lucius gulped visibly, his usual restraint teetering at the edge of a cliff that led to no good. "I don't recall that being a problem for you before, Lucius."
Bits and pieces of a memory flashed before Lucius' eyes: Molly's arched back, the way she writhed underneath him, her piercing cry as he brought her to orgasm—
"Lucius?"
Narcissa had appeared, looking out of breath but happy.
Lucius blinked, and the recollection faded. "Narcissa. You've finished dancing, I take it?"
"Yes, my love," Narcissa said. "I thought perhaps we might avail ourselves of a drink or two." Her eyes fell on Molly, and her lip curled in ill-concealed hostility. "Hello, Prewett."
"Don't worry, Narcissa, I was just leaving." Molly turned to Lucius with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes the way that it had before. "Goodnight, Lucius."
"Goodnight," Lucius said stiffly. It was time for him to put his mask back on, to play the part that was expected of him—that of the loving, faithful husband. He offered an arm to his wife once more, though his gaze followed Molly as she walked back into the crowded ballroom. "Lead the way to the libations, Narcissa."
WC: 522
