The Wife of the Emperor

Ginny struggled to wake, her eyelids weights that refused to yield. She truly wanted to go back to sleep where her life was nothing more than a black silence, but she knew the tasks that awaited her could wait no longer.

In the three days since her confrontation at the Burrow, she had planned the entire wedding, with Draco interjecting frequently. The simple event she had once envisioned shattered with her fiancée's high station, one she soon would share. All of Wizarding society would fill Hogwarts' Great Hall and watch as McGonagall performed the ceremony.

Ginny stretched, a thousand thoughts swirling in her head. So much yet to do. She frowned as her arm met cold air, Draco's body not warming the mattress beside her. Why didn't he wake her? He would often disappear for hours at a time, and she did not know where he went, but guessed he was conducting business without acknowledging her. All sleep gone from her body, she crawled out of the large bed and grabbed her silk rob swiftly. Murmured voices drew her to the throne room, though she stopped in the shadows outside the door. Draco sat haughtily on his throne, clad in an outfit similar to the one he wore when she answered his summons not one week earlier. A drab wizard knelt before him, his eyes glued to the floor. I knew it! The thought that Draco was not including her in the affairs of the people she would be ruler of as well made her blood boil. She tried to calm herself, a voice reminding her that he had just assumed the throne, and alone, thus he wouldn't know what to do with her. Voldemort's training accompanied the voice, reminding her that women in his society would not rule if their husband sat on the throne. Well, that was his society, this is ours. Ours. The word rang out in her mind, exciting her with power and comfort.

Silently, and slightly still angered, she turned on her bare heel, stalking down the hallways, not noting where her feet led her. Abruptly her body ran into a large door, causing her to stumble back quickly. Cursing, she straightened herself and stared at the offending dark wood. She had no recollection of this door, this hallway, and presumably this wing of castle. The Dark Mark served as the pewter doorknobs; their chilling figures drew her hand out. Before she could truly comprehend what was happening, she found herself in a dark room, a few slivers of light highlighting the shadows, the door shut tightly behind her.

Breathing loudly, she struggled to keep the fear this room induced from swallowing her whole. Grasping blindly in front of her, she berated herself for leaving her wand in her chambers, and searched clumsily until she felt the heavy fabric of dark curtains. Drawing them open, she blinked wildly at the shock of light, searching the scenery outside to orient her. She saw nothing but trees, though a forest surrounded the immense château like a shawl, so no help there.

Where am I?

Turning, three large bookcases greeted her, a dark desk across the room from them, papers strewn across it. A fireplace sat menacing beside her, the ashes relatively fresh and the smell of smoke still lingered on the dusty trinkets. Slowly she approached the giant desk, squinting at the papers when she sat in the cold leather chair. The sheets of parchment were covered in two types of scrawl, one she recognized for an earlier correspondence, and one she had never seen before. The piece of paper on top dated the day before Voldemort's death caught her eye, mainly because her name stood out in the unfamiliar script. She scanned the message quickly, a few simple lines, and her eyes widened at the insinuation of the author's words. Picking up the one below, this one in Voldemort's smooth slanted scrawl, she realized what she had stumbled upon and gasped. Quickly she sorted through the letters, putting them in chronological order, the earliest date a week before her family was first offered a deal by the Dark Lord. He promised to save the lives of her remaining family, a large sum of money and a better life if they agreed to him giving her private lessons. Knowing what a conniving woman Molly Weasely became, how could they have said no? Ginny lost herself in the mysterious correspondence, all the while wondering: does Draco know?

Draco sighed as his last subject walked away in fear, a sharp pain digging behind his eyes. The morning had proved a colossal waste of his time. He should have spent it at Hogwarts, going over the final wedding details with McGonagall, or with Goyle going over the details of the Auror raid that resulted in Colin Creevey's (among others) death. Anything else but dealing with the petty pleas of lowlife wizards. He knew, though, that if Voldemort had taken the time, he would too. He hadn't seen Ginny all morning, which was both a blessing and a curse. He knew that sooner or later she would get sick of floating about the castle, looking over nothing more than menus for dinner, wondering where he disappeared to. She was going to want involvement in the business he conducted every day, but he didn't know if he wanted her to. He didn't doubt her strength or intelligence; rather he doubted his followers would understand. The people would accept her readily enough; most of them already trusted her as a hero in the defeat of Voldemort and the lover of the famous Harry Potter. Draco seethed at the thought, and sobered as he knew that their marriage would also take away some of her credibility. He knew she would receive no acceptance from the Death Eaters, even if he ordered it of them. The ball had been evidence enough of that. They feared Draco, though not to the extent that they feared Voldemort, and the whispers of doubt they saved for each other's ears also reached his. He sighed, wondering if he could do this anymore.

The sensation of eyes on him snapped his focus on the door. Standing blurry eyed and shivering, Ginny looked paler than usual. Draco was at her side in a moment, worry furrowed his brow. She leaned into his touch, her freckled skin ice-cold.

"Ginny, where have you been?" She shrugged lightly, a content sigh escaping her lips and closed her eyes. Draco held her tighter, afraid to let her go for fear she would collapse. "Are you sick?" She shook her head, red hairs sticking to his black robes, mussing her long locks even more.

"I was in the library, studying. The fire wasn't lit and I don't think there was a heating charm there." Her voice croaked with sleep and disuse, making her sound that much more vulnerable. Draco released her, rubbing her bare arms as he did so. No heating charm? Where could she have possibly been? No...She couldn't have found it. Swallowing hard, Draco looked her straight in her sleepy brown eyes.

"Which library?"

Ginny stared at him incredulously for a moment, and then looked away, in shock. "The one in the south wing. I found it by mistake. You knew, didn't you?" She turned her head back at him, her eyes surprisingly without anger in them. It was Draco's turn to look away. "How long did you know about this?"

Draco didn't understand why she was so calm. He expected her to be angry, furious even, swearing to leave him forever. He also expected to be the one to tell her the truth. At least then he could have waited till they were married and she wouldn't leave him if at least for the safety of her friends and family. He sighed. Might as well get this over with. "When Voldemort told me I was to be successor, he told me the whole story. Including what I told you. I was going to tell you, right after the wedding--"

"So I would have no way out, right? You figured I'd leave you on the spot once I knew the truth?" Draco stood agape at her smirk and glittering eyes. How could she be so blasé about this? She pecked him quickly on the cheek, giggling slightly as she did so. "I'm not mad, Draco. I just wish you had told me the truth instead of making up that ridiculous story."

"Would you have said yes if I had simply summoned you here to propose? Besides, it wasn't my plan, it was Voldemort's. He wanted this all along, though I don't know why he chose you." Ginny's eyes widened until she saw the mirth glittering in his eyes and her grin widened. A thought passed through and her smile vanished.

"Should we tell them? All of them, I mean." Draco wrapped his arms around her, bringing her body close once more.

"And risk your mother barging in to take you away? I don't think so. Let them think an ancient prophecy is forcing us together. They've accepted it easily enough, easier than if they knew the truth." Ginny sighed, content in his arms, and saddened that the world would not have them married unless under such extreme terms.

The grandfather clock in the room chimed the hour, and Ginny jumped. She was going to be late if she didn't hurry! She tried to wiggle out of Draco's embrace, only causing him to hold her tighter.

"Draco, I have to go and talk to Remus about when he has to meet me, and then to McGonagall about the final details," she whined, though he still refused to let her go.

"I haven't seen you all morning, and I thought I was the one going to talk to McGonagall." Draco put on a pout, and Ginny laughed, kissing his lips.

"We have the rest of our lives to spend time with each other, and it's probably best if we go see McGonagall together." Draco refused to release his grip a moment longer, and then let her go with a mock heavy sigh. Ginny placed another small kiss on his lips and rushed to her room. She could just owl Remus, she knew, but she wanted to see him again, perhaps in better spirits than last time. She needed to be in his calming presence, the whirlwind events of the past week and a half had worn on her nerves greatly. Just as she finished swiping a brush through her tangled hair, Draco walked in, his aristocratic features twisted into a frown.

"Why are you meeting him?" Ginny set down her brush slowly, a confused look on her face as she looked at his reflection in her mirror.

"He's going to walk me down the aisle, Draco. I have to go meet with him and talk him through the ceremony." Draco walked across the room slowly, then leaned against the cold wall beside her vanity, his arms crossed his chest, the white of his arms (he had rolled his sleeves up as he followed Ginny) a sharp contrast to his black robes. He watched in silence as she hastily made herself presentable, bedecking her lobes with silver earrings, and yanking her hair into an elegant bun. There was such reluctance in his face that she lowered her hands from fussing with the necklace Remus gave her on her 21^st birthday.

"Why don't you want me to go?" Guilt flashed across his face, making Ginny uneasy. "This doesn't have anything to do with the Auror attack, does it?" She remembered the pure anger on Remus's face when she saw him at Colin's funeral. He was angry, no furious, at Draco for the attack, even if he never said it. Tonks was badly hurt, he had told her, and the usually strong man's will was weakening, and with the full moon approaching, he could do something drastic. Draco had yet to answer her questions and a thought dawned on her.

"You're afraid of him, aren't you?" At this Draco sighed harshly and dragged his hands through his hair, destroying the perfect coif.

"Good Lord, Ginny, he's practically your father! You trust him more than anyone, even me. I want to be in his good graces, but our views are so different already, and the attack on the Aurors didn't help my case any. He hates me, and-"

"He doesn't hate you, Draco. He just doesn't disagree with the actions you have taken," she interrupted as she stood, taking his hands in hers. "I love you, and that should be enough for everyone, including Remus." Draco still refused to look at her, until she brought his hands to her lips and kissed them lightly. She gave a genuine smile and he sighed again, though not out of anger or frustration. They stood in silence for a moment, enjoying the mere presence in one another, until Draco broke it with low words.

"You have to go, you're late enough as it is." Ginny nodded, releasing his hands and walking to the fireplace. Draco didn't even flinch at the burst of emerald light and stared at the cold ashes long after they had died.

Peril Of Hope: Thank you so much! I like the second chapter a lot too, and I think I know why that style isn't throughout the story. I write these chapters months apart and my style changes with my mood. I have learned my lesson, though, and every story after this one will be complete before I post them.

malfoysslut: I'm glad you like it, and I have a soft spot for Harry when it comes to Draco/Ginny fics. I didn't want him to be the bad guy, but I wanted you to see a darker side of Harry, a side I think that J.K. Rowling has hinted to more and more as the series goes on.

Writerofdarkness06: Thank you so much for all your compliments! I am so glad you like my story! My goal was to try and make the characters as in character as possible while still in the realm of my story, and I was afraid I had made it too much like a soap opera. I tried to update it, but this chapter was hard to write and school swamped me. Don't worry, you weren't the only one confused by the hair/eye color thing. I tried to be all cool with it, make it a metaphor for Ginny's inner changes, but I guess it didn't come across as well as I had hoped.

justahpfan: Yeah, I'm really putting Ginny through the tough times in this one. This is an angsty piece, and thus angst must happen to someone!

peter-pan-equals-luv: I do believe you are crazy! ;) Thanks for being so supportive and loving my story. It makes me smile!

TangledWebs: Yeah, my description of Molly is darker, and I am basing it on the darker side she hauls out when she's angry. It's almost schizophrenic, really, and I just figured one side had to win, and wouldn't it be interesting if the darker side did? She still loves her family, but the love has changed into something more primal, and she's all about survival now. She also knows how to hold a grudge ;)

fearlessfreak: This chapter, however, not so quickly updated. Sorry! Drunk!Harry is supposed to be scary, since he has that darker side in him, something's got to bring it out. Why not booze? ;) We'll see more of him in the last chapter, though. Dun dun dun!!!

Daydreamer04: I try to make my chapters long, since I myself hate short chapters, but sometimes you just have to have a short one! I didn't think my version of Molly was going to get such a response, but it has! When I wrote her like this, I didn't really see anything daring about it, but you are not the first or the last to comment on her characterization and I find it incredibly interesting! Thank you for reading my story!

louey31: You'll like Arthur more in the last chapter, and I think his "lack of spine" comes from his love of Molly. However, that whole confrontation made him see what has happened to his wife and he is going to do something about that....