Disclaimer: I don't own anything…'cept for these specially cool socks my specially cool friend bought for me for Christmas!

Wife Wanted

Chapter 1: We Meet Again

It was a dark, stormy night. The lights were dim, and he sat on his plush Victorian chair, eagerly anticipating her arrival. He tapped his long elegant fingers carelessly on the expensive looking mahogany table, lost in thought. The lightning flashed outside, outlining his delicate features and revealing his narrowed silver eyes, his pale lips which were pursed together tightly, his highly defined cheekbones, his pale and creamy- almost translucent- skin. Yes, he was a beautiful man. Cruel, unfeeling, and ruthless--- but beautiful, nonetheless.

He sat patiently, and when the doorbell rang, breaking through the silence like a bullet shattering glass, he showed no surprise, as if he had known she would arrive at that exact moment in time. Like a cat at last awakened from a long nap, alert and ready to capture and devour its prey, he climbed stealthily out of his chair to greet her.

"Good evening," he drawled. "It's been awhile." He grinned coldly.

"Not long enough," she replied stoutly, glaring reproachfully at him.

"Tsk tsk," he smirked. "I know why you've come...and I assume you do, too. I don't think you should be making cracks like that, darling."

"Shut it, you bastard. I thought you might've helped me or at least would understand. I thought you had changed," she snapped.

"Darling, you know that," he murmured quietly as he embraced her, "I, of all people, will never change. I am who I am. I am who they've made me. I've never changed. And nothing can change that." He pushed her away roughly.

"You're wrong," she whispered almost desperately. "What about...what about...I-I thought..." She wringed her hands together hopelessly.

"You thought wrong," he said flatly, all emotion void in his dark eyes, his amusement at her from minutes before disappearing.

"But...but..." she stared at him determinedly.

"I do not wish to pursue this matter any further. Follow me into the drawing room, and we shall discuss what you have undoubtedly come for over a glass of wine." He turned swiftly and began walking briskly towards what she supposed was the drawing room.

As they walked in an awkward silence, she took a moment to absorb her surroundings. It was all so beautiful-- just like him. And also similarly like him, it was cold and unfeeling, definitely not welcoming. She could tell just by looking that it was old-- it had probably resided in his family's care for centuries. She also noticed the masses of Victorian furniture, dark gothic windows and arches, expensive blood-red silk curtains-- it all seemed so wrong for her to be there. She knew -- and it knew-- that she didn't belong in such an extravagant looking place.

"We've arrived," his voice broke through her thoughts. "Have a seat; I'll tell one of the maids to bring us wine."

"O-oh all right." She sat down nervously on the plush sofa. What have I gotten myself into? All the confidence she had managed to summon up and bring with her suddenly abandoned her, disappearing as suddenly as the golden snitch.

"The wine is here," his voice, once again, broke her train of thought. He silently poured some into her glass, and she took a sip tensely. "Now that we have properly been replenished, let us begin discussing."

"Well, as I'm sure you've heard, my family's not been in quite a good financial state, and I've seen the ads in the paper about you needing a wife to produce an heir so that you can rightfully accept your inheritance and continue your line...I'm willing...I mean, I can be your..." her voice trailed off.

"You want me to pay you to marry me," he stated, his eyes indignant. "I'll have you know I have received dozens and dozens of responses, all of whom are strikingly beautiful and would make loyal wives. Why in the world of all people should I choose you?" He spat at her.

"Why didn't you choose one of them then? Why'd you agree to meet with me? If all of those other women were so beautiful and wonderful, why aren't you already married? Why isn't here one of your nasty little children running around destroying what little we have left of this world?" Her eyes aflame shot at his, equally indignant.

"How do you know I'm not already married?" he grinned wickedly. Her eyes immediately flew to his left hand. Seeing his ringless ring finger, she breathed out a sigh of relief.

"You're not. There's no ring."

"Why darling, do I look like a ring type of guy? Don't you remember anything from our little rendezvous?" He sneered nastily. All hope deflated from her body, and her eyes brimmed with tears, recognizing her defeat.

"I-I see. I suppose I'll be going now," she muttered, wiping away the slowly increasing trickle of tears that were flowing down her face. This was her last hope. She choked back a sob as she thought of her little broken up home, her starving family-- she couldn't return to them, not with this dreadful news.

That morning, she had been so excited, so full of life. Perhaps, she had thought, she would finally be given a chance. Maybe, she had thought, their lives would return to normal, or maybe even better. That morning, the possibilities were endless. She had seen bright futures, happy memories to come in a nice little house...but now, her thoughts seemed foolish, undeniably worthless.

She stood up. "I hate you. I hate you will all that I am," she hissed and walked away with the little pride that remained in her.

He watched her, his pale eyes following her every movement until she disappeared from sight. Only after she left did her realize what he had just done. Stupid, stupid, stupid! The little voices in his head chorused together angrily. You great idiot, that was your one chance. Now what are you going to do? they scolded him. Shut up! he replied wildly. Let me be. He tilted the wine bottle back and swallowed it down in one gulp, his eyes flaring wildly. He grabbed the beer bottle the maid had brought and began to drink from it.

He entwined his fingers in and out, his mind completely separated from his body. His heart urged him to go and find her, to apologize profusely and beg her to come back to him, but his pride would not allow him to do so. They fought, his heart and pride. They fought angrily without resting inside him.  Go on...do what you know is right, his heart crooned softly to him. Don't be dense-- you can't beg her to come back- you know she won't anyway. Let it be, his pride shot back. Do it. Don't you dare. Do it. Don't. Do it. You have to. You can't. Yes...no...yes…no...

He jolted from his thoughts in a cold sweat with only one thing on his mind: Find her. Right what you wronged. And somewhere, somewhere deep in his mind, a little voice kept chanting, You can change. It's not too late.

********************

A/N: I know right now it's a tad confusing, but everything will become clearer in the next few chapters…By the way, this is post-Hogwarts, and if you haven't figured it out already, 'he' is Draco and 'she' is Ginny.

Please review…Let me know what you think! Should I continue?