Author's Note: We meet some notorious characters here… Bellatrix, Voldemort, Lucius etc. I've been updating like crazy because I keep getting soooo many ideas…Trying to build Emma's push and pull with the dark side...

Emma sat before the mirror at the vanity, hoping her mother would be satisfied with her appearance. She'd worn the silver dress like she'd asked, and was fastening her jewelry when Amelia walked in the room.

"Looking good Emma." Amelia stood behind her roommate in the mirror.

"Thanks Ames." Emma replied as she fastened dangling blue gems in her ears.

She did look good, and it wasn't vain for her to admit. Though quiet and stoic to most, Emma knew her strengths. Her hair was waved to perfection, and her makeup would make a muggle movie star jealous. The silver dress was silky and clung to her figure, floor length, long billowing sleeves and a v-neck. Mother had chosen a dress that was both sensual and sophisticated. She wondered what plans her matriarch had for her tonight.

"I just let Sirius in the portrait, he was arguing over the answer to the riddle. Funny, if you ask me." Amelia plopped on her bed with a book in hand.

"Official escort. Name something more pureblood than such rules of chivalry." Emma spritzed her perfume and stepped into her royal blue pumps.

"Some muggles have a way like that too. My muggle gran is a Countess, and sometimes when I'm with you pureblood lot it feels like I'm with muggle nobility. Kind of ironic when you think about it."

It was ironic, Emma thought. The people her kind despised the most had people exactly like them. Did it condemn or justify their way of life? She wasn't sure.

"Grab my silk cape from the wardrobe would you?" Emma asked as she packed her handbag.

Amelia wordlessly stood and crossed the room to the great oak wardrobe the two shared, pulling a hooded onyx cape from inside it. Emma almost exclusively wore jewel tones, and tonight was no exception.

"Thanks." Emma said as she wrapped the cape about her shoulders. At that moment the rest of the roommates walked in.

Emmeline let out a low whistle.

"Merlin's beard, Emma. Sirius is going to have a heart-attack." Genevieve remarked.

"He has a girlfriend, Gen." Louisa countered, disapprovingly.

"She looks like Elizabeth Taylor." Emmeline said admiringly.

"Who?" Emma asked.

"Muggle actress, a bit past her bloom, some say." Amelia answered.

"Why aren't you coming Gen?" Emma asked.

"The Lestranges aren't too fond of me." She answered.

"You mean Rodolphus hates you." Louisa muttered.

Three sets of inquisitive eyes peered at Gen, who was looking anywhere else.

"I may have suggested to him, in passing once, well at his wedding, that his wife was in love with the Dark Lord."

"I thought everyone knew that." Emma chuckled. In pureblood circles, Bellatrix Black's obsession with Lord Voldemort was well known, even encouraged by some. She only married a Lestrange for appearances sake.

"How can you say that so easily, like it was the most normal thing in the world?" Emmeline spoke up.

Emma was shocked. Emmeline hardly ever reproached her in front of others.

"Would you rather have me be dramatic about it? I can hardly divorce myself from my family's connections, Emy." She countered.

"No, you can't. But you could at least show some resistance." Emmeline retorted.

"You both have a point, Emma does keep things to herself and is very cool-headed about it all. But Emmeline, you don't know what it can be like being in a pureblood family as the only person who isn't a blood purity fanatic." Louisa, ever the peacemaker interjected.

"I suppose." Emmeline said quietly.

Emma knew she'd be late if she stayed to argue, so she simply curtseyed to her friends and turned on her heel. She felt protective, defensive over her blood status at the moment. Maybe an evening of pureblood seclusion is exactly what she required to cool her head.

Sirius had been waiting in the Ravenclaw common room for what felt like ages. He was in his best black and white dress robes, twirling his wand between his forefingers.

Finally a vision in silver and black appeared at the bottom of the staircase. In her face he saw a look of annoyance, he hoped it wasn't with him.

"Ready?" She said, and her face softened as they made eye contact.

He breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't upset with him. Wait, why was he so concerned? He hardly spoke to Emma, he had a girlfriend, what cause did he have to be worried about her emotions? He mentalyl shook himself, to rid himself of these strange thoughts.

Emma wasn't one for idle chatter, and he followed her out of Ravenclaw tower and down to the entrance hall.

"Mother said that Walburga sent a carriage for us." She turned and remarked to Sirius.

"Yes, hippogriff drawn. It's waiting outside." He responded idly, working to conceal his anxiety. She had a way of looking at him so directly that it was unnerving. Had she always been this way? It was like the opposite of the Veelas he'd met in Monte Carlo over holiday.

He watched Emma flip up the hood of her cape and flick her eyes to his arm.

"Oh." He said, distracted by the way the curl of her bangs framed her large eyes. He offered her his arm and they walked out the great doors. He assisted her into the carriage and they took off.

They rode in silence for fifteen minutes until Emma spoke up.

"I'm surprised you're coming tonight, Sirius." She stated, looking out the window at the blinking lights of Edinburgh below them.

"Why is that Miss Harper-Shelley?" He asked.

"You don't seem very fond of the obligations of pureblood society." She smirked.

"Hmph. I don't mind drinking and dancing, but pureblood society? Ha. Do you revel in it?" He said, extremely honestly.

Emma cocked her head to the side with a small smile, and said "It depends." She looked back out of the window again.

Sirius wondered how someone could be so direct, yet so vague. She was incredibly concealed yet simultaneously uncomplicated. How unlike Cynthia, with her soaring emotions and unbridled tongue. He let his thoughts drift to Cynthia. He liked the girl, she was fun and open to whatever he wanted. Her muggle born naivete was attractive in a way. He liked being her instructor, her guide.

"Don't you love to see the North Sea glitter at night." Emma said softly.

"I'd never thought of it before." Sirius said, looking out the window too.

"Howard Hall is along the Cam. Mother grew up this way, but Father is from the south." She added.

"A rare moment of candor, Miss Howard-Shelley."

"I think we can afford some intimacy, as you are my escort."

"Dance with the one who brought you, and all that."

"In a way. I'm probably your greatest ally tonight, since Andromeda won't be there."

Sirius' jaw tightened. Andromeda had been disowned for marrying Ted Tonks, and he'd lost his greatest champion in the family when that happened. Emma was hardly Andromeda, she fit in so seamlessly with pureblood society. Always punctual for mass at St. Ignotus Peverell's church in Hogsmeade. Only speaking with muggle borns in class. Confidant to Narcissa.

Then again, James thought to himself, his best friend James was a pureblood. His other two best friends were halfblood. Cynthia was the first muggleborn he dated, and he could name his other muggleborn acquaintances on one hand. He looked back at Emma and saw her cooly surveying him.

"When we are announced Bellatrix will make a few introductions, and then my mother will probably whisk me away to dance with someone she thinks I should meet. You can claim me for the third or fourth dance at the earliest." She instructed.

Sirius snorted. He didn't ever appreciate being told what to do.

"I have been to this sort of thing before, you know. I understand the etiquette just as much as you do."

Emma said nothing. Sirius had the last word but it didn't feel like it. The less she spoke, the more she seemed to say.

Just then, the carriage jolted and he knew they'd touched down in the gravel drive of Ermessenda Lodge, the Lestrange family seat since the 17th century.

Emma glided into the ballroom of Ermessenda Lodge on Sirius' arm. The Lestrange' family ghost, some ancestor nobody cared about, announced their arrival.

"Master Sirius Black and Miss Emma Howard-Shelley."

Emma and Sirius approached their hosts, Bellatrix and Rodolphus. Rodolphus had the look of a man who was constantly smelling something putrid, which made it hard to tell if he was handsome or not. He wore charcoal grey dress robes and had thin hair slicked back. It was a stark contrast to his wife, with her waist length black curls. She and Sirius looked very alike, full lipped and thick haired with pale, almost translucent skin. She wore, uncharacteristically, a gown of amber. Bellatrix was seldom seen in anything but black or green.

"Welcome cousins," Bellatrix drawled, as Emma curtseyed and Sirius bowed. Bellatrix snapped her fingers at her house elf, "Take Miss Howard-Shelley's cape Rollo."

Emma was relieved of her cape and she and Sirius made their way towards her parents, with whom they also exchanged pleasantries. Father took Sirius and steered him towards the bar, while a man stepped from behind Mother.

"Darling, may I present his Lordship to you." Vera said, with a smooth tone to her voice.

A tall man, with dark wavy hair that reached just past his ears stepped forward. His frame was thin, and his face angular, with sharp cheekbones and dark circles beneath his eyes. He looked to be in his late forties. Emma found him oddly, extremely attractive. And then she realized who he was.

"My Lord." She intoned, barely audible, as he took her hand and pressed it to his lips. They were cool against the skin of her knuckles.

"Miss Howard-Shelley, your mother has taken the liberty of engaging us for the first dance." He spoke to her. His voice was even, and oddly rich. She said nothing but allowed him to take her hand, sweeping her into the first waltz.

The orchestra began to play, as if the musicians were waiting for Lord Voldemort to begin. They probably were, Emma thought. They began their dance and a few other couples joined them on the dance floor, among them Bellatrix and Rodolphus. It did not escape Emma's notice that Bella glared at her.

"Ignore her." Voldemort said when she looked over his shoulder.

Emma looked into his eyes and said nothing. They danced a while without breaking eye contact. She knew he was looking into her thoughts.

"I don't think it's very fair to capitalize on legilimency during a social occasion." She said.

"My dear, a social occasion is precisely when being a legilimens is most handy." He replied.

He might have addressed her with an endearment, but Emma's skin shivered when he spoke to her. Was this good or bad?

"Generally a good thing, I'd think." He said, answering her thought.

"Sir, is there a point in me speaking to you at all if you can invade my mind so easily?"

"Yes, Miss Howard-Shelley. Because oddly, the only times you do speak, it matches what I've already seen in your mind."

"I'm afraid I have no skill with pretense," She said, "However I do ask that you stop that."

"Such impudence. Not even Mrs. Lestrange dares to make requests of me."

Emma said nothing, smiling to herself. She could picture Bella as the perfect lap dog, a sycophant to Voldemort. She wondered how a man of his steely resolve and cold emotions could bear it.

"I don't bear it. If she weren't so fervent in her commitment to the cause I would have gotten rid of her long ago," Voldemort answered her thoughts again, "Ah, my apologies dear. You asked me to stop."

Emma was satisfied with herself. Lord Voldemort had begged her pardon.

In an instant, her surroundings changed. Had he apparated and brought her side-along? They no longer waltzed in the Lestrange ballroom, they were now in the center of a hedged maze. Still, she did not react, but kept moving her feet in time to the distant music. They must still be on the grounds of the estate. But as soon as she could bat an eye, they were instantly back in the ballroom, the end of the dance at hand. She knew what he had done: he had demonstrated a small portion of his power. As he bowed and walked away, it was as if he was telling her he could take her whenever and wherever he wanted.

"My fiance beckons, excuse me gentlemen." Said oily-voiced Lucius Malfoy, bowing to Lewis and Sirius. He left them standing on the terrace.

"Insufferable." Lewis said, taking a sip of his punch.

"Tell me about it. As if I didn't see him more than I wanted to as it is." Sirius replied.

"Oh, well, yes, but I meant this whole event. All of this pureblood bullshit."

Sirius was shocked, "I say, that punch sure has loosened your tongue."

"I'm sure it has. But I'm like Emma, I conceal nearly everything. I hate all of this. I'm only here to see Narcissa and fulfill my obligation to my parents to consort with "true wizards" once a year." Lewis hopped onto the stone ledge and sat upon it, looking into the glass doors that barricaded between them and the ballroom.

"Still sweet on Narcissa, eh?" Sirius asked, joining him on the ledge.

"Of course. She still buys into a lot of this rubbish though. I can't imagine Lucius has been a good influence either."

"Does your family know what you think?" Sirius questioned again.

"My dad does. He's not so fanatical as mother. It's like she's trying to make up for the rest of the Potters' politics."

They sat in silence until Emma walked out, clearly looking for one of them. Lewis saw the enamored look in Sirius' eye, followed by one of disdain. He took it as his cue to leave.

"How was your dance?" Sirius asked Emma as she approached.

'Fine." She replied.

"Doesn't it make you sick?" He sneered.

"Does what make me sick?" She asked in turn.

"Dancing around with Voldy, bowing and scraping like your blood status means something."

"I danced with who I was told, and as far as I'm aware, my blood status does mean something. As does yours."

He laughed at her.

"So you're just like the rest of them. Simpering at that bigot's feet and plotting."

"No." She said

"No?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're at the same ball I am Sirius."

"Yes, but I didn't have a choice." He barked back.

"Do you think I have a choice?"

Sirius said nothing.

"You're a Black, which has opened as many doors for you as being a Howard-Shelley has for me, if not more. You ride the newest broom and wear the nicest robes and have galleons upon galleons to throw away on firewhisky and Bertie Botts."

"So I have things, you've made a point. That doesn't mean my blood means anything." He retorted.

"Perhaps. Money is just money after all. But your blood is protection in our world. Nobody, either pro-muggle or anti-muggle would ever have a fault with you. Your name is known before you walk into any room. Even the most egalitarian of our kind define themselves by blood."

Sirius was silent again.

"And you enjoy the privilege your blood brings you. You date a muggleborn for the shock of it, taking delight in being her master. You love knowing more, having someone beholden to you, you love making people angry over it. You like the knowledge that you are special, different. You hang your cap upon the fact that you're not like other purebloods, when you are precisely like other purebloods. And rather than reflect upon your own motives for leading on poor Cynthia, for making showy and performative gestures of blood unity, you'd rather blame me for simply existing in the world to which I was born."

If he was silent before, he was dumbfounded now.

"I can't help the fact that I'm pureblood, Sirius. And I have my guilt, my misgivings. But I'll not let you cause a scene trying to shame me." She said with a quiet soft voice. Sirius was unnerved; first by her speech, he didn't know she could talk that much. And then by her confidence, quiet resolve.

"If you know so much, if you can read us all so well, why don't you speak out? Why not actually rebel?" He spit out.

Emma laughed. That same haunting, frightening laugh.

Author's note #2: I had a lot of fun writing this part, please let me know what you think and who you want to see more of! I'd also love to hear your predictions about different characters. Also, for characterization's sake, I wanted to share my inspiration for Voldemort. I know from the creation horcruxes his appearance began to change for the worse, but wanted him to still be hanging on to a bit of his youthful beauty, to indicate how seductive evil can be. When I wrote his character I pictured a 50 year old Timothee Chalamet, lol. Please follow and leave reviews! xxx