Chapter Two

Draco Malfoy didn't know how he'd become so submissive; perhaps it was when he was five, and his father had held a wand to his head, demanding that he hand over the car that he was zooming around the cream tiles, 'not allowed to play with muggle toys.'; or maybe when his mother had begged him not to argue with the decision that he become a Death Eater just the year previous, she'd sobbed all day -and my God was she a hideous crier - until he'd just smiled softly and patted her arm, shrugging as he whispered 'It's OK Mum, it will all be OK." and walked out after his father to have the mark placed on his arm.

He had come to understand that there was very little control that he himself had over the life that he would most likely lead. It was a bitter irony that he had thought that his wedding - and choice of partner - would be any different, that perhaps he'd fall in love at the age of nineteen to his 'childhood sweetheart' and get married too young and have children too soon, or he'd wait until he was settled and secure before he found someone who suited him best, someone who could deal with his psychotic temper and his jaded past.

The ceremony was short, and nothing like he'd imagined a wedding would be - though he'd never been to one so he couldn't accurately say that this wasn't the normal thing to do; wrist touching wrist, burning ever so slightly at the contact, eyes locked on one another - they were studying instead of looking. Though neither could keep their eyes off of Voldemort for too long, his voice sharp with a million secrets as he whispered the 'vows' in Latin: "Nam qui non poenam luerent, et in hoc est sacrum secretum tenebitur. Binae vitae datum in debitum unius. Ut animas suas forte saturatus inliciar copiosa." before leaving their hands free from his icy touch and turning to the crowd.

"These two have been blessed, and in my name, a vow has been taken." Then he turned to Emelé, who shifted a fraction under his fierce gaze, what looked like a smile on his thin papery lips. "Welcome to the Malfoy family." There was something about the way he said it, with lips tight and teeth bared, that made the words sound more like a threat than an welcome. Emelé smiled the best she could, though her rouged lips trembled.

There was long moment of stative silence before a large cheer erupted around the two. Lucius was in front of them in a millisecond, smiling falsely as he placed his hand on Draco's back and led them down the aisle and through the house. The reception was in the garden, and it had been transformed from the perfect rose beds and statues into what looked like a Wonderland setting. Large bouquets of unidentifiable flowers filled the air with a fragrance that was sweet, like the scent of a petunia after being left in a closed room all day. There was a pathway, each side overflowing with the same scent before the two came out into a large opening. Round tables were arranged perfectly around the concrete, a larger one on the side for the Death Eaters and another longer one for the Bride and Groom - though they couldn't ignore the large white chair looming in the corner of the setting, and easily guessed that there would only be one person sitting their.

Lucius left them once they were there, muttering about how this wouldn't end well; Draco wasn't sure whether his Father meant the reception, or the marriage itself, but decided that both were bound to end in a disaster.

Once they were alone, he turned to the girl curiously, but she wasn't stood beside him like she had been a second ago. Emele wandered around the edge of the reception venue, small manicured fingers tracing the delicate petals of a rose. "They're beautiful, are they not?" He hadn't heard her speak, but he hadn't expected her to be so well spoken. When he didn't answer she turned to him, eyebrow cocked upwards. "Do you not think so?"

Draco stuttered, closing his mouth when he realised that he was incomprehensible before a blush crept underneath the surface of his pale skin. He was almost the same shade as the rose her fingers still had a hold of. "Don't be shy Draco, we're married now." The smile on her lips was sad. Emelé sighed, turning back to the flowers before letting it go gently, walking to the spot with her name on it, and took a seat. He followed suit, almost as though he couldn't help himself. There was something inside him that couldn't take being too far away from her for too long.

The rest of the evening was filled with laughter, cake and dancing (which, whilst odd and slightly out of place, wasn't entirely unpleasant). Unlike muggle weddings, no speeches were made or cake cut - the house elf did that before a herd of them came and began to hand it out after the meal. Soon enough the guests were leaving and only those who were in league with Voldemort were left. A few were drunk and were apparated out by their wives but the others stayed, congregating in the large meeting room. It wasn't said, but there was something about the atmosphere around the room that suggested the wedded couple were not invited to the 'meeting'.

One thing was certain both were sure of it, the wedding was over but whatever the reason behind it definitely wasn't.

For those who are punishable will be punished, and in this marriage a sacred secret will be held. Two lives given in debt of one. May their lives be full and plentiful.

- Translation of the vows. (This was done through Google so I apologise if it is incorrect)