Timeline: Approximately a year and a half after Voldemort's death.

Mother looked smug. Father looked irritated – but then, he usually did.

Mother's expression, however, probably meant that she had plans for me that I would not enjoy. Her own life had been marked by frustration and disappointment, and she was never happier than when she found a way to thwart the happiness of her daughters. I had a sneaking suspicion that I knew what they wanted to talk about. As the eldest daughter of the family – and, to my parents' unending regret, the heir – I was expected to 'marry well' as the saying goes. No doubt they'd started negotiations the day I came of age, if not before. I'd expected some hint ever since my seventeenth birthday, but I had turned eighteen just before Christmas, with still no mention of who I was expected to marry.

So as I sat facing my parents, on the final day of the Christmas holidays, I had a feeling that they were about to enlighten me. Mother started off with a speech about the necessity for an advantageous alliance, the importance of ensuring purity of the bloodline... I knew it all, as they'd both been parroting it at us as long as I could remember.

Finally, Father growled, "Just tell the girl and get it over with!"

Mother shot him a poisonous look, then turned back to me. "We have found you an extremely wealthy and influential husband. Absolutely pure-blooded. In fact we had an informal agreement just after you came of age, but the announcement had to be delayed because of the special circumstances – the proprieties must be observed, after all, particularly for a man of his social standing." She looked at me calculatingly.

I sat quietly, waiting. She would tell me in her own good time – but how typical of Mother to go prattling on, keeping me in suspense.

"I want to make it quite clear that there is to be no argument from you, Nathalie! A girl of your standing should realize that marriage is not about 'love' but about carefully-arranged alliances."

I met her eyes steadily. "Of course, Mother. I will accept your choice without question." Well, there wasn't much point doing anything else.

She nodded, and glanced uneasily at Father. I must admit, I was starting to have qualms. Even Mother seemed anxious about my reaction when I heard the name of the monster I was expected to marry. "Well then – you will not be finishing your school year. You will return to Hogwarts tomorrow, when term starts and remain there until the middle of May. You will then return home and on June 1st, you will marry Lucius Malfoy."

I stared at her, shocked. It was common knowledge that Malfoy needed an heir. After the second wizard war ended with the final death of Voldemort, Malfoy had been facing years in Azkaban. To avoid that unpleasant fate, he had struck a deal with the new Minister for Magic. In return for receiving a token six-month prison term, he had provided the names and last known hiding places of all Death Eaters still at large. He also provided evidence of the crimes they had committed in the name of the Dark Lord.

Malfoy was no fool – he knew that any Death Eater not captured immediately would seek revenge on him. He sent his wife and son into hiding, but they had been tracked down and murdered by one of the last free Death Eaters. He was released from Azkaban on compassionate grounds, and had properly observed the expected year of mourning. How much actual mourning he had done had been debated widely and in many cases, maliciously.

But the fact remained that with the death of his son, he no longer had an heir. Speculation had run rampant as to who he would select to provide that heir. It was ironic that with his wealth and influence, he had become the most eligible man in pureblood circles - or would have been had not most people been terrified of him. Even parents seething with ambition would think twice before offering their daughters to a man with such a dark reputation.

Except, apparently, mine.

Mother would like nothing better than to see her five daughters as unhappily married as she was herself. And Father had always resented us not being boys. The murders had occurred about a year previously, around the time of my seventeenth birthday. Clearly, my parents had wasted no time in offering me up as Malfoy's brood mare. Nothing could be done officially during the year of mourning – as Mother said, the proprieties must be observed! But the agreement had been made, and now the formal betrothal could finally take place.

I met Mother's eyes once more. Triumph and malice sparkled there. She had secured one of the richest wizards in Britain as a son-in-law, and at the same time set me up with a future she was sure I would hate. I quickly dropped my gaze, drawing a sharp breath, and stared hard at my hands, folded neatly in my lap. No doubt Mother assumed that I was holding back tears...

I first saw Malfoy when I was little more than a child.

His son, Draco, then about fifteen, had bullied his mother into throwing a lavish Christmas party, and the teenaged sons and daughters of all the prominent families were invited. I was just old enough to be included on the guest list. My sister, Anneliese was less than a year younger than me, and had protested loudly at being excluded. When my parents were firm in their refusal to allow her to attend, she made me promise to tell her every detail.

Anneliese had always been more outgoing than me. I was regarded as the 'studious' one, hence my sorting into Ravenclaw at school, when three of my sisters had become Slytherins. Little Sara, the youngest, would not start Hogwarts until next September, and being much more like me, might also become a Ravenclaw. Anyway, I attended the party, behaved with impeccable manners, even danced an obligatory dance with Draco – not a pleasant experience, as his hands were everywhere – and waited patiently for the party to end. I had a feeling that the event would be more fun in the retelling than in the actual experience.

Draco's parents had not been present for most of the party, but towards the end, they entered the ballroom to observe the social niceties. I barely noticed Draco's mother. His father captured my entire attention – tall, broad-shouldered, his bearing haughty and elegant. And of course, that hair. I had never seen such beautiful hair, even on a woman. It flowed over his shoulders in a shimmering, iced-gold curtain.

I was at what they call a silly age. Just turned thirteen, a newly-fledged adolescent, my head full of romantic nonsense. Malfoy was in the room for perhaps ten minutes; at one point his gaze flicked over me, but I'm sure that he didn't even register my presence. Nevertheless, by the time I left the party, I had a full-blown crush on him. Fortunately, I had the sense not to mention it to anyone. My sisters would have been shocked. Mother would have jeered at my teenage delusions. Father, of course, would merely have been irritated.

My infatuation continued, even as I grew up and started receiving attention from boys my own age. I was considered attractive; of medium height, naturally slim, but with all the requisite curves, and had long black curly hair and sapphire eyes. I went out with a few of my schoolmates, but I found it difficult to take seriously boys of sixteen and seventeen when I was secretly fantasizing about a man almost three times my age.

And I did fantasize. Innocently enough at first, of kisses and embraces. But as I got older my fantasies became increasingly graphic. I must have spent hours lying awake, staring into the darkness of the dormitory, thinking about what it might be like to sleep with Lucius Malfoy. Now, it seemed, I was going to find out.

One thing I knew for certain: no-one must know my true feelings – at least until the wedding ring was safely on my finger. If Mother knew that I was pleased with her arrangement, she would find some way to stop it – probably by having Anneliese take my place... I looked at Mother once more. She seemed to be waiting for my reaction. "Very well, Mother," I said demurely. She looked at me curiously.

Finally she said, "Well... I'm glad to see you are being sensible about this."

"Of course. I have always known that you and Father would choose my husband." Perhaps, I thought, it would be wise to voice a mild protest. "Of course, I had hoped that it would be a man closer to my own age but – " I swallowed, and lifted my head resolutely. "If this is your choice then I shall, of course, abide by it. May I tell the younger ones of my – of the betrothal?"

"Certainly. As of this evening it will be no secret. Malfoy is to dine with us this evening – even Sara will be allowed to stay up to dinner."

I'm sure that dinner that evening was excellent, but I remember nothing of what we ate. I was seated on Malfoy's right, and we conversed politely and – it must be admitted – rather stiltedly. To tell the truth, I was a little tongue-tied with nerves. Plus, the difference in our ages meant that common ground was hard to find at first. Then Anneliese piped up with a comment that the Ravenclaw Quidditch team would have to find a new Keeper for the end of the season. Mother frowned; she had always considered my participation in Quidditch to be extremely unladylike. But Malfoy informed me that he had been a Chaser for the Slytherin team while at school, and we were able to discuss the sport for the rest of the meal.

Just before coffee was served, Malfoy caught my father's eye. Father nodded very slightly, and Malfoy rose, turned to me, and said, "I wish to speak to you alone for a few minutes." As I stood up, he offered me his arm, and led me out of the dining room to the reception room across the hall. Evidently this had all been arranged before the meal, as he appeared to know exactly where he was going. Malfoy seated me in an armchair, taking the chair to my left, and angling it so that we were turned towards each other, though not directly face to face.

He looked at me for a few moments. Abruptly, he said, "Your mother tells me that your health is good."

"Yes, it is excellent," I replied composedly.

"And you are, I assume, a virgin?"

This time I felt myself blush, but replied, "Of course!"

He nodded thoughtfully. "You understand that I need an heir. I will expect you to have a child within the first year of our marriage, and a second child no later than two years after the first." I nodded. He watched me for a few minutes more. Then he reached into the pocket of his waistcoat and took out a small box. "In that case..." He leaned over and took my hand, and without ceremony slid a sapphire ring onto my finger. He looked at the ring for a moment, then glanced up at my eyes. "Yes," he said musingly, "I think that will be suitable." He leaned closer and gave me a very brief, formal kiss, before standing and offering me his arm once more.

Late that night, as I changed for bed, Anneliese, Sylvie and Laurelle sat together on my bed, watching me anxiously. Sara, only ten years old, was sound asleep in her corner. Despite our ages - Anneliese was seventeen, Sylvie almost sixteen, and Laurelle fourteen - the five of us still shared the large night nursery that we'd slept in since we were babies. Finally, I finished plaiting my hair, and pushed the three of them off my bed. Laurelle and Anneliese returned to their own beds, but Sylvie caught up my left hand and gazed at the ring.

"It's beautiful!" she breathed. She looked up at me. "It matches your eyes!"

Exasperated, I pushed the little airhead in the direction of her bed, and got under my quilt. Before I could lie down, however, Anneliese came back to my bedside.

"Oh Nat! How can you marry that awful man?" She put her arms around me, crying.

"I don't have a choice," I reminded her.

"But he's almost as old as Father! I can't bear to think of... that you'll have to..."

I hugged her, patting her shoulder. For a moment I wondered if I should reassure her by telling her how I really felt about marrying Malfoy. But I just couldn't risk it – especially with Sylvie listening. She was a born babbler, and the last thing I wanted was for her to go running to Mother, blabbing about how happy I was. "Go to bed," I told Anneliese. "You know we have to be up early tomorrow to catch the train."

She started back towards her bed, then turned again, her eyes wet. "Can't you even finish the school year?"

"No." I was starting to get irritated. "It's all arranged: we go back to school tomorrow, and stay at Hogwarts over Easter so that Mother can get everything organized. I'll come home in the middle of May, and you three will come home a few days before the wedding, for the fitting of your bridesmaid dresses."

Anneliese got into bed, wiping her eyes. Honestly, sometimes she acted younger than Sara. "It's not fair..." she began.

"Oh grow up!" I snapped. "You know that this is how it's going to be. Mother and Father choose our husbands for us. We do what's expected of us, we marry whoever they pick, and we have children. You'd do better to stop worrying about me, and start hoping you have better luck with whoever you get." She curled up under her quilt, sniffling. Feeling suddenly sorry for her, I said more gently, "Well at least you know that you won't have to marry Malfoy." I knew that she would think it a lucky escape.

I flicked my wand and the candles in the wall sconces went out. As I tucked my wand under my pillow and pulled the covers close around me, I heard a soft sound outside the door. Mother listening at the keyhole! Well, at least I'd said all the right things.

As we were leaving the next morning, Mother put an envelope into my hands. "This contains the details of your travel arrangements for May, for you and your sisters. Give it to your headmistress when you explain to her why you are leaving school." I nodded, putting the envelope into my pocket.

As instructed, when we arrived at school I met with the Headmistress. When I took my seat in front of her desk, Professor McGonagall said, "What can I do for you, Miss Desjardins? I was going to speak to you anyway, about your Transfiguration N.E.W.T..."

Calmly, I said, "Professor, I'm afraid I won't be taking N.E.W.T.s after all."

McGonagall stared at me in consternation. "Not taking N.E.W.T.s? Why ever not?"

"I am to be married on June 1st. I will be going home in the middle of May."

"But – so close to the exams!"

I nodded, and said in suitably regretful tones, "I'm disappointed, of course. But it's all finalized. My parents have arranged a very advantageous match."

"Advantageous for whom?"

"It's an excellent arrangement for all concerned. My future husband requires a new heir, and I'm young and healthy..."

At the mention of the requirement for a new heir, McGonagall looked at me sharply. "And just who is it that you will be marrying?" When I told her, it was hard not to laugh out loud at her horrified expression. "Surely, child, you can't want to marry..."

"What I want is irrelevant, Professor. I've always known that I would have an arranged marriage." I handed her the letter containing the travel arrangements.

After reading it, McGonagall looked up at me, her expression bleak. "Well. It would seem that there is nothing more to be said. You may go."

I walked out of her office, my head held high, and as I made my way to the Great Hall for dinner, I felt a quiver of trepidation. By now, many of my friends would have read the announcement in the Daily Prophet, and I knew that I would be bombarded with questions.