The forest grounds of Malfoy Manor were littered with black and red chiffon that hung from tree to tree and a black, lengthly rug of velvet reached up to an altar made of rowan that stood in front of the family graveyard and many ancient mausoleums. It was just a little after eleven at night when Draco was escorted down the aisle by his Father to wait in front of his fellow Death Eaters, who stood in fine black cloaks that covered more elegant wear in the same color. Lord Voldemort stood in the middle of the altar holding a black leather-bound book with faded red writing on the spine. Draco was able to recognize the Latin words nuptiae veneficium; meaning Marriage Sorcery. The panic quickly grew inside of him and sent a wave of cold down his spine; that didn't look like a very pleasant book for wedding spells. He rocked a bit on his heels and peered over at the giant sundial that was not too far away, attempting to see what time it was. They were to be married in only twenty minutes; at midnight.
Rachel sucked in a deep breath, trying to prevent a panic attack. She was nearly being pushed out of her room and down the stairs. Bellatrix opened the door that led to the closest path to the forest and Narcissa led Rachel by the arm. It was dark, but in the full moon's light and that of the stars that dotted the navy deep sky, she could see the path laid out for her. Regulus took her by the arm and as they stepped onto the long, black carpet, an eerie tune struck out all around them, like a dome of chillfull notes surrounding the forest.
Rachel took yet another of many deep breaths as she slowly and gracefully worked her way to the altar. This was it. In only a few short minutes she would be standing next to Draco and joining her life with his. She paled at the thought, her face looking even more ghastly beautiful in the darkness. Her brown eyes darted along the aisle at the black-clad clan that watched approvingly and then let them focus up the aisle where her future husband was standing. She noted that he looked just as nervous as she had felt and that gave her a little bit of comfort. She could hear every beat of her heart, every shuffle of her skirt against the velvet. She could feel her chest heaving with each inhale and exhale and it made her eyes widen a little.
'Calm down.' She mentally scolded herself. 'TRY to be happy about this... make an effort at least.' She stopped walking as she had reached her mark and her father let go of her arm. Rachel turned her head a little, watching Regulus as he moved away towards the others and suddenly felt quite alone and scared.
Voldemort opened up his small mouth and started to speak in Latin. Neither bride nor groom really heard a word he said over the pounding drums that lay inside of their chests. They turned toward each other, brown eyes gazing up into gray ones, and then it happened.