Disclaimer: : This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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The Invitation

I sigh his name aloud and then gasp in surprise when there is a knock at the door.

I sit ram rod straight in my seat. Who the fuck could be calling at nine o'clock at night? I grasp my wand in my hand and smooth out my dress as I fling the door open, breathing heavily.

The air leaves my lungs.

"Miss Weasley"

Lucius.

He had to have heard me. My breath catches in my throat.

"May I come in?"

There is something in his smirk that I don't like. But I move to allow him to pass anyway.

To his credit he sneers minimally.

"Can" my voice is hoarse and cracks "can I get you something?"

I don't let him answer before I retrieve another mug and fill it with tea. There is a familiar drumming in my ears.

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

I can only imagine why he is here. My hands shake and the mugs rattle as I pour his tea. He is looking at me intently; I know this even though my back is turned to him.

I know he has seen me in every humiliating way, every bated breath and moan that escapes my lips as I touch myself, he has seen.

Shit shit shit shit.

I breathe through my nostrils so he does not hear me. Because ordinarily, I might have been able to mask the heaviness of my breathing and the nervousness that it implies, but smoking has given me a half whine when I exert myself, and that I cannot hide.

I have to hold the mug with both hands as I set it down on the table, but I still manage to spill some anyway. I sit across from him and fold my hands in my green clad lap.

"Why are you here?" I have to ask it, and so I blurt it out.

He takes a sip of his tea and grimaces; I guess Earl Grey isn't his favorite.

"I need to speak to you" he says calmly "you see, Ginevra, there are many things that we have to discuss"

I try to nod or do anything that might show that I have some sort of control in this conversation. But Lucius Malfoy has never been a man that easily gives with out a price. Not money and not saving your life. I do try to think of something else, before he begins to speak again, but there is something nagging in the back of my brain, telling me that he has come to collect.

I lift my tea cup to my mouth.

"I have a proposition" he makes a circular pattern on the table with his finger tips "A mutually beneficial one.

My hand stops in mid motion. I stare at him reproachfully.

"What is it?" there is a quaver in my voice

He leans forward and smirks. He knows that I cannot refuse whatever it is. Life debts are like an unbreakable vow; there is no way out of them.

"I want you to marry me"

What? It takes several seconds for me to recover, and then I laugh out loud.

"What?"

"I said" he says, a little haughtily "I want you to marry me"

I laugh again, but he seems serious, and scowls at me.

"You're serious" I say, the laughter still in my voice. "You want-"

"To marry you, yes" he says in a clipped tone.

"I see" I say, wanting to test his boundries.

A little smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.

"Get down on one knee" I cannot help but giggle as I say this, knowing that he will not.

He grinds his jaw and glares at me. But, to my great astonishment, he flares his nostrils, and slides from his chair to a kneeling position in front of me.

He must see the startled look on my face, for he reaches into his cloak pocket and withdraws a small black box.

I pull my hands away from his, and to my chest.

"Open it" he says, a little shortly.

When I do not comply, he reaches forward and pulls my left hand to his chest. We are so close I can smell him. I could kiss him if I wanted to.

He smiles predatorily as he opens the little box and places the ring on my finger. I feel my breathing quicken as I look at the ring; a rose shaped stone; red.

"A ruby" he informs me

"Not a diamond?" I ask

"Not for a queen" he says

For the first time I am looking in his eyes, really looking. I know he has given away something, I can see it in his face, I am just not sure what.

"There," he pauses long enough to reach forwards, and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "There is somewhere I would like to take you tomorrow"

I tilt my head to one side, but I cannot speak, he has that effect on me.

"I'll pick you up at eight" his words imply that it is an invitation, but I can read the truth in his inflection; I have to go, I have no choice.

He rises from the floor. It must have been degrading for him to kneel in Arthur Weasley's home, which tells me something.

He crosses to the door and I follow him, handing him his cloak. Some people might take this as a sign of hospitality, but he knows me, he has watched me for months. He must know that this is a sign of nervousness, and a mad desire for him to be out of my home.

He leans in close to me as he takes his cloak, too close. I move to take a step backwards, but he grasps my waist and brings his lips to my cheek.

I am on fire.

"Wear something nice" he whispers in my ear, before disaperating.

It surprises me that a man like him, so cold and aloof, would kiss so warmly. No, I correct myself as I take his mug to the sink, it wasn't warm, it was like an inferno.

But marriage. Oh, I cannot breathe if I think about it. I put out the fire and climb the stairs instead, rubbing my neck as I go.

I feel exausted as I open the door to my room. And I cannot keep myself from running it through my mind again and again.

It makes sense to me, as I put my dress in the closet, and my pumps by the front door, A life for a life. There is little to no divorce in the wizarding community. And so I know, as I climb into bed, that he has me for life. A life of being Lucius Malfoy's wife. I wonder if he loved Narcissa, or if he hit her. I wonder if he'll want children, but I am so tired that my eyes grow sleepy and I nod off before I can begin to think of what that might mean.