The Wife of the Emperor

Virginia sat at the bay window in the flat she and Harry shared in Hogesmede, it's large and airy space a large improvement from the little thing above the twin's shop she used to inhabit. She sat in silence, her eyes taking in the afternoon sun, though her mind saw other things. She began to daydream of her very romantic wedding day, as it was soon to arrive. Voldemort was dead, the prophecy resolved, and under those terms had Harry promised their ceremony. She thought of the large assembly of family and friends (but then, when has a Weasley gathering ever been small?), their hand-written vows....

Just as she was imagining the reception, a sleek black hawk dropped a letter in her lap. It gave a menacing screech and flew out of the window, waiting for neither reply nor pavement.

Confused, Virgina opened the letter hastily, so quickly that she did not take notice of the Dark Mark embedded in the black wax seal.

A single piece of parchment slipped from the heavy envelope with ease and fell into her lap, on it a solitary line of tidy scrawl ordered her to the Emperor's palace for a meeting with His Excellency immediately. Her fingers trembled slightly at the familiar handwriting, though she had never thought to see it again in this context.

Other than her thought on the script, Virginia gave no time to ponder why he had summoned her. When one received an invitation--an order rather--from an emperor, even Emperor Malfoy, one did not linger in thought. Her heart unconsciously hastened its beat at the thought of seeing him again after years of silence.

As she searched her wardrobe for the most regal-looking ensemble she owned, in attempts to hide her fear and anticipation of the meeting another feathered messenger flew in. This one bore the mark of the Auror Army, she noticed as she went for the letter. Virginia froze at this revelation, her hand halfway to the owl's outstretched leg. A message from The Army meant one of two things: death, or recruitment, which was almost worse than death to those who joined them unwillingly. Since she knew that the Army could not tie itself to the Weasley family, a pit grew in her stomach with anxiety. Whose body must she identify this time? No one else in her family would claim Percy's so she was forced to do it alone. Slowly, Virginia retrieved the letter and with trembling fingers, she broke the crimson seal. The parchment shook as she failed to contain her apprehension and read the formal script, one all too familiar to her eyes.

Ms. Virginia Weasley,

We regret to inform you that your ex-husband, Colin Creevy, perished in an attack of the Auror Headquarters this morning. He fought well and his death was not in vain, for the assailants were slaughtered or jailed in Azkaban. We are very sorry about your loss.

Harry J. Potter, Head Auror

Virginia, overcome by grief and confusion and shaking in anger, crumpled the letter in her still trembling hands.

Her best friend and one-time husband murdered, and all the love of her live could do was to send a formal letter bearing no emotion? How many times had Harry come to her with tears in his eyes and death on his lips? What made this one different? Was this lingering jealousy of their marriage? Or, perhaps most likely, was this him pulling further away?

Since the rise of Emperor Malfoy, they had to hide the Headquarters and its soldiers for fear of discovery, and yet someone had managed to attack them when they were most venerable. She sighed, hoping her presence at the Emperor's Castle last week had nothing to do with this massacre. She had given no information to Voldemort, but he no doubt entered her thoughts again. Damn her curiosity and forcing the location out of Harry the week before! A lone tear slid down her cheek, the death of her best friend tearing a hole in her very soul.

The solitary ringing from the clock tower across the street brought Virginia from her grief. Mourning would have to wait. She was already late for her meeting and if she didn't hurry, she would have an even larger price to pay for her tardiness.

Virginia's pace through Diagon Alley to the castle was less than confident. Her footsteps echoed in the empty streets that smelled of fear and power, celebration of Voldemort's death lingering at the edges, and the click of her heels drowning out the rapid beats of her heart. She reached the black doors of the dark château on the edge of the village and considered going back, but before the thought finished crossing her mind, the iron doors flew open and a small hooded figure stood before her.

"What are you doing here? You know the curfew begins at sundown," a cold female voice hissed from within the darkness of the cowl.

"I've received a summons from the Emperor and I gathered that was more important than the curfew." Her answer sounded smug as she brandished her letter. As so it should.

"Come." Virginia followed the Death Eater, holding her head high, willing her fear away at her show of courage as they navigated through endless dark and twisting corridors. Her feet knew the way they were headed well, and wished the shrouded witch would quicken her pace. Harry would return soon, and if she were missing, he would surely worry. Or would he? Virginia shook the thought away, needing all her wits about her for this meeting.

The cloaked figure opened another set of iron doors to reveal a vast room, empty save for a few alabaster columns and large iron-wrought sconces grasping flickering torches. Virginia knew she saw Death Eater's dance with the shadows as she walked slowly towards the large throne that sat in the middle of the room. The new emperor obviously had no time to furnish the castle had he would like, for she knew his love for expensive things, and his castle should be no different.

The throne was a masterpiece of black silks, jewels, and shadows. The glittering jewels that sparkled here and there almost made her miss the two ruby eyes of a silver snake that clasped a set of ebony robes closed. The Death Eater had left her side, taking her place with the others in the dance as she slowly continued towards the glittering seat, her breath quickening in panic.

A slim figure shifted beneath robes, the regal black garments of an emperor, as well as a black cowl, shielding him even more from view, hiding what Virginia knew lay beneath. Two silver eyes, cold as steel and twice as intimidating that sliced her confidence in two, slowing her steps. Eyes that dug up old and painful memories she need not to think of now. Now she needed to be focused on her actions in the presence of this man.

Her shaking knees betrayed her as they shook her black skirt slightly while she dropped slowly into a deep curtsey. Draco, Emperor Malfoy, stood and with a slow nod of his head, ordered all the servants out of the room. Virginia kept her head down, eyes focused on the floor. She had learned early in Voldemort's rule that when one stood before the emperor, any emperor, one must not make eye contact. According to Voldemort, it was to prove one's insignificance, for eye contact would show strength, courage and no one could be so bold in front of their ruler. Virginia, however, knew better. She knew that within the eyes lay all the weaknesses of a human. Weaknesses no emperor should show to his subjects.

Emperor Malfoy slowly circled the small woman as if he were inspecting a cow at the slaughterhouse, checking for flaws, searching for imperfections. It had been so long since he had seen her alone, that he wanted to remember each detail. He scrutinized her black regal robes with its large silver collar and wide cuffs. He studied her once flaming hair, now dyed ebony for a reason secret to his informants who had followed her days before his summons. He knew that she had been in the castle under Voldemort's tutelage, yet he was always in another room, practicing curses or studying history, not allowed to roam about his future domain until she left.

He analyzed the intricate design of the ebony hair in its elaborate weaving around the simple crown that adorned her brow. Did she know his reasons for demanding her presence or did she hide something?

"You may rise," he said in slow, authoritative, yet familiar drawl that reminded her of his Hogwarts days. A voice that masked the emotions he was struggling to suppress. That was ten years ago. Your heart has hardened towards her.

Virginia rose, hiding the protest of her knees. She kept her sapphire eyes forward, not focusing on the tall man who continued his vulture-like circles around her.

"You look very regal today. Almost queen-like..." He muttered the last bit to himself, going over the reason for her visit in his mind. He then took in her mournful state and her depressing garb, knowing why she was dressed so. He ordered that attack on the "secret" headquarters of the Auror Army. It was a little known fact that Pansy Parkinson was a Metamorphmagus, allowing her to slip undetected into Potter's crowd, giving Draco the location of their hideout.

"You are in mourning, Virginia," he stated and her eyes widened in hardly contained shock at his use of her name. Behind that shock came flashes of memories when her name would roll of his tongue in throes of passion. Stop. You are in love with Harry and that was a long time ago. You were children.

"Yes, my lord. My ex-husband was murdered this morning." Jealousy threatened to overtake his cool demeanor, but he controlled it with the ease of practice. Instead, a slender eyebrow rose and two pale hands formed a steeple in front of his body. He knew of whom she spoke of. He was one of the few who knew of her marriage to that annoying Creevey boy, and she was the reason why. But, being the Slytherin he was, he feigned curiosity and desired to see if she could keep the secret of his involvement in Potter's army.

"And why was his death not proclaimed in every wizarding paper headline?" He spoke the sentence with a slight clip, hoping to throw her with uncontained anger and jealousy. Virgina started at the sharpness of his tone. Did he still feel for her? Dangerous hope bubbled inside of her, causing her to lose her self-control.

"Why would the world care so greatly for unknown Aur--, I mean, amateur...photographer such as Colin Creevey?" She cursed herself for the near-slip. Her surfacing emotions did not give her reason to expose her knowledge the hidden band of Aurors. Draco suppressed a smile. Yes, she still had feelings for him, her lack of control evident. The question is, do you still have feelings for her?

"Colin Creevey was your husband? But were you not married to Harry Potter?"

"In my fifth year at Hogwarts, I was forced into a marriage with Colin. We both only wanted a friendship, so when we left Hogwarts, we had the marriage annulled, though apparently your Army does not recognize the annulment." Aged anger lined her words. You know this, bastard. It was the reason why we were separated. Why you left me. Virginia forced herself away from that old pain before it reached the surface.

"And your relations to...Potter?" he demanded, gritting his teeth as though he couldn't allow Harry's name to pass his lips. Still to this day he could not help but hate the boy who became the wizarding world's saint.

"Harry proposed to me on my graduation day, though we didn't make in known until six months after the annulment. Until now, I thought we would marry after Voldemort's demise." You were gone by then, remember? My heart and soul left with you But you don't care. You didn't then, you don't now.

"Why is that?"

"That, my lord, is not your business." The haughty words left her mouth before she knew what exactly she had said. All these conflicting emotions within her were causing her to lose her wits and she could not think clearly.

Draco said nothing, a small muscle twitched in his cheek before he expressed his anger of her insubordination by slapping her across the face with such force that it flung her to the ground, the crack of flesh upon flesh echoing in the chamber. The sound sickened Draco but he couldn't let her see his love for her again. He couldn't be that venerable, not now, when he needed all his strength to face her. He had hidden it for so long, he could hide it for just a little longer. He spoke harshly and softly, though it was worse than if he had screamed at her.

"You dare to speak to me in such a manner? I rule you; I can take all you've been given away. I, the person who holds your life in my very hands" And your heart, once, and again if you would let me. Virginia heaved herself from the floor and rose with the grace and dignity of the greatest queen. She stood before him, her presence almost too empowering for even him to bear. Her eyes blazed with fury, and his mind wandered to a time when that fury fueled their passion.

"You have no right to treat me in such a matter! Emperor or no, I am still a human being and as such I deserve to be treated with respect, and have the right to keep my secrets." Her heart broke at the violence he inflicted upon her, but it was too full of love for him to truly hurt.

He glared at her in angry disbelief. He should kill her for such blatant disrespect. Voldemort would have done the same. At the thought of his dead mentor he reminded himself of why she was here and decided to just get to the point. The shorter she was here, the less time he had to feel so confused and exposed.

"You're right, milady. I do need to treat you with respect." His regal air returned to his voice as he spoke, the prospect of what shock he was about to force on her giving him his confidence back.

Virginia's eyes narrowed. She did not like his tone of voice. He knew something important, something she needed to know, something he was going to take sick joy in telling her. Something bad.

"Especially now that we are to marry." He gave her no time to comprehend as he plunged into the explanation. She found it hard to concentrate for her heart, delirious with joy was battling her mind full of fear. He spoke for several minutes, explaining how Voldemort revealed this information in fear of his death, and his own doubts of the legitimacy of the prophecy.

"In short, I must marry a pureblood witch from a very large and wealthy family by the next full moon, which approaches rapidly." He stopped the pacing he took up at the beginning at his tale and stared at her, willing himself not to lose his senses in her blue eyes. Blue? Ginny Weasley had brown eyes. What had she done?

"Pureblood and wealthy I understand, but why a large family?" The shock of his initial statement had worn off and she reluctantly accepted that she was to marry him. Well, maybe not reluctantly. Draco shrugged his shoulders in indifference, a gesture that resembled the one he gave her from across the Great Hall when he needed to be with her.

"Voldemort figured that if the witch pretended to love me and support me, the rest of her family would. Then they would have their friends pretend, who would have their friends, and so on, therefore creating a large support group for me." He prayed she wouldn't have to pretend her love.

"Even if the love and support was false." Though I don't think I could, no matter how hard I try.

Draco nodded slightly, his heart betraying him by wishing she could love him again.

"And if I refuse to marry you?"

Draco glanced at her sharply before speaking again. Did she want to refuse?

"Then the world would be covered in darkness too horrible and blank to imagine. Darkness not even I could control or stop."

Virginia drew back from his words and voice and dimly realized she was trembling. Visibly, apparently, as Draco gently placed his hands on her face, his fingers remembering the contours of her face. A face he once enjoyed gazing at when flushed with passion. Stop. His mind demanded, though his body took no notice.

"Do I frighten you?" He had asked this question so many years ago, before the had found their love in one another, and had she not been through so much pain, she would have given into him again in the darkness of the Emperor's throne room.

The two wrapped themselves in the warmth of each other's skin, momentarily reliving the passion they once shared before Virginia stepped back, destroying the feelings, burying them once again. I cannot be lost to the darkness again. The darkness of life without you, just as I find strength to leave it, not two hours before you summoned me here.

"I fear only that which I cannot control," she stated, thinking that he should know that, if he had not forced himself to forget as she tried to so many times before.

He too stepped back, removing himself from the force that was pulling him towards the raven-haired beauty, trying to bury what that statement unearthed. They stared at each other for a moment before he began to pace again.

"Whether you want to or not, I am taking you as my wife. The fate of the entire world, both wizarding and Muggle depends on our marriage, not if we love one another." He paused, wondering if he wanted to say what graced his mind. No, now was not the time or the place. Later, when she had no one to run to, when she was his wife.

"I accept your offer of marriage," she said flatly, any previous emotion vanquished. Hardly the happy tears and romantic setting he once imagined, but that once was a long time ago.

"I have to settle something first," she continued. "When do you want to hold the ceremony?" He knew, of course, that she referred to telling Potter, and as much as he wanted to lock her in a room until the ceremony, that would hardly help renew the feelings he knew she felt for him.

Draco felt the coldness of her voice wash over him like a waterfall of glacier water. He wanted desperately to not be the cause of this state of nothingness, he wished in vain for he knew it to be his fault.

"As soon as possible," he said, attempting to match her emotionless voice. "Time is not our ally."

She nodded, her eyes covered in a faraway fog. She stared in silence before dragging her eyes back to his face.

"May I leave, my lord?" He wanted nothing more than to deny her leave and sort out whatever feelings lingered between them.

"Yes, my lady. You may leave."

She curtsied before gliding out, an air of detachment trailing behind her. He sighed, cursing himself for his lack of foresight. He stormed from the throne room, having countries to rule, prisoners to torture, and a marriage to plan.

"Parkinson!" he bellowed. The pug-faced women arrived instantly, a smug smile on her face, thinking she was here to please him, though she did tire of transforming into the redheaded brat at his request. Just once, couldn't he moan her name in passion rather than Ginny's?

"Gather two others and furnish the empty chamber next to mine in preparation for the arrival of your new empress."

The smile melted to a frown as he spoke. She was about to protest, tell him this mysterious wedding was ridiculous, but he cut her off with another bellow.

"Move!"

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