Draco sat in his office, staring out the window as the world buzzed around him. His secretary was trying to get his attention for the past fifteen minutes, knocking on his door and sending magical messages. He ignored the knocks and rolled his eyes at the messages, finding that if he opened them it would take his mind off his misery. Draco, as hard as it was to believe, liked to wallow, especially when an occasion such as this arose. He deserved the pain, though, he knew that; he'd broken her heart.
He remembered it as if it were yesterday, when in reality it was just over nine months ago. She was probably hiding out somewhere in Italy now, or France, that's where he had told her to run off to. Just the thought reminded him of when they vacationed together, mooning around the country and giving each other furtive looks. Draco chuckled bitterly, softly, to himself as another message landed on his desk. There was very little that caused him to smile these days, or even smirk, but as the thoughts continued, he was carried away.
Away was where he went when he wanted to escape, a time to reflect on all he'd done. How he'd gone through what seemed like the most explosive thing to hit the Wizarding World since Voldemort - until a few months ago, that was. Sometimes Draco couldn't believe all he had done to get where he was today, ruling over London's Wizarding World as the Minister Of Magic. And then there were times when he realized that he would have never made it to power without her. Overall, he remembered that he just pushed her out of his life, forced her to run away; forced her to become a fugitive so he could rule. Most would not feel pity for such a thing, but Draco was not most.
Another bitter chuckle passed his lips, hitting the cold air of the office and falling on silence. He'd given up the only girl he loved for the Four Horseman, to become part of the new Volderian Society. And what did he have to show for that? Piles of messages, leading one of the most powerful Wizarding Worlds in history, and a broken heart. Often times Draco wondered if giving up everything had been worth it, and he always found that it wasn't. Unhappiness was what they were trying to pressure on the muggles and those with anything less than pureblood, not themselves. Unlike his three compatriots, Draco was not satisfied with what they were doing to the world. He merely found himself a pawn in the chess game of the most powerful wizard to ever walk the planet.
He didn't get much thought in on the matter when his secretary finally burst into his office, looking quite frazzled. "Mister Malfoy, I'm sorry to interrupt you, but they're here." Draco raised an eyebrow and nodded, waving his hand to suggest that the woman leave if she knew what was good for her. The secretary curtsied and did as she was told, slamming the door behind her before bustling back to her desk.
The warning meant that Draco had approximately five minutes until they showed up in his office for their weekly meeting. Sometimes he hated being part of the Four Horsemen, especially at times like these, where he was required to straighten up his office and have everything ready. Usually they traded off on offices, going from Italy to France to Romania and back to London, but the past couple weeks they all found it easier to meet in London.
Forcing himself out of his seat, Draco grabbed his wand off the desk and started muttering spells. A silencing spell was placed on the room, proper sound devices were set to record the meeting, food and drinks were provided, as well as chairs and a few other necessities for the meeting. By the time he had finished, his secretary - Romilda Vane - had returned to tell him that their ETA was less than a minute and counting. He got as far as standing behind his desk when the door was thrown open, unveiling the other three members of the Four Horsemen.
"Come in," Draco smirked, welcoming them with an arm as he gestured towards the chairs, they nodded and entered. First came Lord Voldemort, leader of the Four Horsemen. His appearance often sickened Draco, but these past few months he hadn't noticed anything other than his broken heart and her broken heart. He was followed by Bellatrix Lestrange, a sadistic smile toying on her lips, as per usual, of course.
"Draco," she greeted, "you remembered." Bellatrix referred to the table with food, in the middle sat a bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey, the only liquid she would consume during meeting such as this. And following last, but certainly not least, was Bellatrix's husband, Rodolphus Lestrange. If it had not been for Rodolphus's hostile take over in Germany, Egypt, and Spain, he might not have made it to the ranks of the Four Horsemen. But the way he handled those pesky Order members put him at the top of Voldemort's list of people to look into. Strangely enough, Rodolphus turned out to be a powerful member of the Four Horsemen, putting himself at odds with Draco who often thought that his uncle was useless.
Thinking of the Order brought Draco back to earth if but for a minute, his thoughts traveling to her. He didn't think about her during their meetings - Bellatrix often liked to peer into his and Rodolphus's minds - but Draco had thought about her by sheer accident. For a second he was blind to his company, an image of them together last Christmas popping into his head. He almost smiled, realizing what he was doing before it was too late. Thankfully, too, because Bellatrix was giving him a raised eyebrow as she took her seat on the far right.
Voldemort took the middle seat directly in front of Draco, staring at him carefully. "How are things here in London?"
"As well as can be expected," Draco acknowledged the question as he took his own seat, his eyes colliding with Voldemort's and a knowing gleam traveling between the two. They often had unspoken conversations, the same way Voldemort and Bellatrix did. Rodolphus wasn't an outsider, he was just ruthless and liked to get things out in the open, having mute conversations was simply not his style. "A few more muggleborns were found and put in Azkaban, so was half-blood Seamus Finnigan, one of the strongest rebels here in London." They didn't dare think that the Volderian Society was accepted by everyone, because they knew it was not. Draco had put more people in Azkaban for fighting against Voldemort than anyone else, trying hard to shut down the organizations that opposed the Four Horsemen the most.
"Fantastic," Bellatrix took a swig of her Firewhiskey, "I always hated that kid." Draco took her words as a grain of salt, reminding himself that she hated everyone. Seamus had only made her list because he threw a stunning spell at her during the last battle. Now Draco, on the other hand, had all the reason to hate Finnigan in the world. Not only had he been a cocky, arrogant son of a bitch, he'd been a Gryffindor and the only man Draco was ever jealous of when he was with her. Of course he didn't have much to be jealous of, Seamus only held the power of being a good guy over Draco, nothing that he didn't have the ability to persuade her out of. In the end, though, persuasion had nothing to do with what happened, or how they ended.
"Put your hatred aside," Draco leveled, raising an eyebrow as if daring her to say something in return. Bellatrix only scowled, placing her Firewhiskey on his desk before crossing her arms. They all had their roles in the Four Horsemen, they were all powerful in ways unlike each other. Voldemort had the most magical ability while Rodolphus was plain cutthroat, with or without magic. Bellatrix had a knack for curses and verbal combat, while Draco had incredible leadership potential that he had turned into experience upon making Minister. They built up their parts of the world and showed off their skills, all bringing their parts to their knees, holding them captive like the muggleborns. Bellatrix ran France, Rodolphus lead Romania, and Voldemort had Italy at it's knees; Draco led the brunt of the Wizarding Worlds, London, and he was revered as the youngest of the Four Horsemen and as a leader. However, they were among the most hated for taking over since the last battle when Voldemort forced Harry Potter into hiding the same way the stupid boy-who-lived had forced him recluse a couple decades prior. "Let's get down to business, shall we?"
Voldemort's slit of a lip twitched, the right side tilting to create a malicious looking smirk, "Now you're speaking my language, Draco." The last time he'd heard those words, Lucius was sent to the United States for being outwitted by his son. At that point in his life, Draco considered that to be a highly lucrative compliment from the Dark Lord, but now he was simply dumbfounded at how he let go of so much for the man who hardly had a face and a body, let alone a soul and a conscience. "Amycus reported to me a couple days ago that he locked Ginevra Weasley in target in the heart of Sicily, but upon trying to catch her off guard, she vanished." That had not been the first time such a thing had happened with that girl, but it was a sensitive subject around the Four Horsemen, even more so when they were together.
"She's a sly one," Draco offered absentmindedly, making sure to keep his thoughts out of Bellatrix's probing grasp. "When she escaped me a few months ago, I knew she would be a hard one to find. Remind me again, my Lord, why she is so important to the cause." Feigning lack of knowledge made Voldemort puff with pride, adding a few brownie points to Draco's overall score - it killed Rodolphus and Bellatrix to see him suck up and reach heights as high as their own when he was such an insolent, disrespectful young man when Voldemort was not around.
However, the Dark Lord was more than happy to share the plot he and Bellatrix had devised well over two years ago. Voldemort had thought it successful for the longest time, but it had gone sour after Draco attempted to apprehend her and bring her to the Dark Lord. "Having once had control of her mind, she is second only to Harry Potter when it comes to people I seek, first when it comes to people I seek for the Four Horsemen." Draco inwardly flinched, trying hard not to openly wince at the idea of Ginny being given a spot within the ranks. Would that not defeat the purpose of the Four Horsemen? Would they become the Five Stallions should she be inducted? Draco was amused by the thought, but showed no open emotion about the idea. "She's a powerful young woman, as Bellatrix remembers from the brief encounters the two had last year. Ginevra could be of great use while taming Australia, China, and Sweden, the three most rebellious places we've come across." Voldemort paused, building suspense before he regarded his highest and most important point. "And she's grown far more powerful since we last met up with her, having obtained many talents from Harry Potter himself, several ex-Aurors, ex-Death Eaters Alexander Belle and Jonathan Conture, and you during your relationship with one another."
It took all of Draco's willpower to keep himself from smirking proudly, as well as from berating Voldemort for acting as if he somehow instrumented this entire ordeal. "I see," he finally choked out, "she would be a great asset. But first we must find her," he paused, "again."
Rodolphus glared at Draco, contempt in his eyes. "We won't make the same mistake twice, Draco; this time Fenrir and I are going to take care of her, not you. I still-"
"Now, now," Voldemort tutted, "it wasn't Draco's fault that she got away. As I said, Ginny is one of the most powerful witches in the world right now, closely behind my darling Bellatrix." He turned to give an appreciative smile to his right hand Death Eater, "Let's leave it at that, shall we? Draco, if you see her here in London, you know what to do. Same for Bellatrix, Lucius, Rodolphus, and Fenrir in their parts of the world." Draco wondered if Voldemort believed a word of what he'd said about Ginny's power, but he didn't dare to voice his opinion. "Is that clear, Rodolphus?"
A 'yes' was mumbled under his breath, Rodolphus clearly defeated. Voldemort was almost as smooth a talker as Draco himself, except Voldemort only used his gift of gab when it came to embarrassing those around him or trying to manipulate information out of his subjects. "We must be going," Voldemort arose, "I hate to call this meeting short, but I have business to take care of in Scotland. You will be at the meeting in France, correct?"
Draco stood with Voldemort, politely nodding his head. "Unless pressing matters stop me from attending, I will be there, my liege," he responded respectfully and without hesitation.
"Good," Voldemort waited for the Lestranges to arise before he apparated with a loud pop, leaving them both in his stead.
"I'm watching you," Rodolphus declaimed venomously, "Ginevra Weasley may be powerful, but you have had Dark Arts training since you were five. If she is found in London and mysteriously escapes again, I will not be held accountable for the harm that may come to you."
Regardless of their family ties, Draco and Rodolphus fought the most amongst the Four Horsemen, having repressed anger with each other since the moment they knew they'd be working together. "Suit yourself, uncle," Draco countered in false nonchalance, "you have far more to lose than I. As do you, Bellatrix," he avowed as he turned his attention to his aunt. "You're Voldemort's right hand, but I'm far more useful to him here in London than you are in France. Don't think for more than a moment that I'll let either of you," he looked from Bellatrix to Rodolphus, "walk all over me. I'm the youngest, but I got here on sheer ambition and cunning instinct. I've done more favors to the Dark Lord these past few years than most of the Death Eaters have combined in their entire servitude, don't think that I won't take you down if you get in my way."
The darker side of ambition, Bellatrix thought to herself, she couldn't be any prouder of Draco or more insulted, it was a bittersweet feeling. "You keep yourself from fucking around with Ginevra Weasley again and I'll stay out of your business. Rodolphus and I can be of service faster and more efficiently than you, so don't let us take you down." She offered him a sickeningly sweet smile, "Good day, nephew." And as if on cue, they apparated together.
"I believe you've met your match, Bellatrix Lestrange," Draco mumbled under his breath before taking a seat, "too bad you won't rise to the occasion."
Almost as if she knew they had gone, Romilda knocked on his door, entering as Draco barked a 'what' at her. "You-you have a visitor, boss," she stuttered. He wondered why he had ever hired the ex-Gryffindor, only briefly reminded that he had done so because she was a strikingly gorgeous woman at the time. Now she looked significantly older, aged by war and being secretary beneath Draco Malfoy, a clearly ambitious and hard working man.
"Who is it?" He asked irritably, ready to brandish his wand and take his stress out on whatever got in his path first.
"She says her name is Incendia Rutilus."
Draco nearly fell out of his seat, his heart jumping into his throat as he recognized the name instantaneously. "Send her in," he managed to mumble, wondering if he would be able to stay composed with her in his office. The door closed only to be opened a few seconds later and his eyes to fall upon the woman Romilda had introduced less than a minute ago. "Fire shining," he stood up in her presence, offering a heavy bow before he moved around his desk with great agility, making it to where she stood before she was further than a foot into his office. Closing the door swiftly behind her, Draco enveloped her in a hug and placed a heavily passionate kiss on her lips, "Ginny."
Author's Note: The "Four Horsemen" is actually a biblical term from Revelations, an idea in which I derived from the "Left Behind" series. This is nothing biblical, so you can ignore that little tidbit of information if you wish. I would adore if you gave me some feedback, it is my first novel fanfiction in ages. Have no fear about a background, because that will be coming up in the next few chapters, as well as inserts of the present. I spent a considerably long amount of time writing this chapter, hopefully it was as fantastic an opening as I like to think it is.
Kisses, Leighton