Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter One

An Indecent Proposal

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Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance.

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SIDE NOTE: This takes place at the beginning of the 5th book.

A chill shot down my spine once I laid eyes upon the Malfoy Manor. It was enormous, dark, and epitomized the character of the family that lived within its walls. It was exactly as I remembered it, yet for some reason it was much more terrifying this specific summer night. My Father placed a reassuring hand upon my shoulder. He was so proud that I had been formally invited to attend such a "monumental occasion" that he had sported a rare smile since the invitation arrived a week earlier.

The servants had spent hours attempting to curl my long silvery blonde hair. Come to find out the hair of a Veela, even a half-Veela, didn't agree with being styled in anyway but flawlessly straight. Finally, after much frustration and pain on my behalf, my unnecessarily long blonde hair remained straight as an arrow.

"Get a move on, darling," my Father said in his deep intimidating voice. "We don't want to keep everyone waiting."

I took a shallow breath and closed my eyes for a moment to gather myself.

"Yes, Father," I said calmly.

"'Old on," my Mother said through her thick Bulgarian accent.

She stood in front of me and pinched my cheeks and fixed a stray stand of my hair. She then saw it necessary to adjust my long blue skirt of my dress for the umpteenth time. The corset I was entrapped in was cutting off my circulation, and if one more person fiddled with my new dress I was going to scream.

I had no idea why I was here, why I was invited. It was no shock that my parents were asked to attend this event, but I had no business here. All I knew was that my parents were obsessed with making me visually pleasurable to all who saw me. My older brother, Grigor, was not obligated to come along. No, he got to stay home. Lucky arse.

"Zair, perfect," my Mother said. "Zee Dark Lord vould be mad not zoo choose vou-"

"Ivana!" my Father shouted, shooting her a nasty glance.

"What are you talking about? Choose me for what?" I asked severely. "I've told you a thousand times, I refuse to-"

Suddenly, the front door to the mansion opened revealing Narcissa Malfoy. She had the same emotionless expression plastered across her disgustingly pale skin.

"Come in, Dolohov's, come in," she urged, leading us into the Manor.

"Antonin, Ivana it has been too long," Narcissa said, an unpleasant smile threatening to appear upon her thin lips. "And this cannot be the infamous Nemesis Dolohov. You have grown into a beautiful young woman, my dear."

"Infamous?" I replied politely. "I don't think I have ever been referred to as 'infamous' before."

"Oh, my Draco speaks very highly of you," Narcissa assured me, "And he is a brilliant judge of character."

The very name Draco Malfoy made me cringe. He was a foul, loathsome creature much like his wretch of a father, Lucius. We had unfortunately grown up together, me being two years older and many more years wiser, our fathers were best mates and they concluded we were destined to have a similar relationship., too bad Draco is a bloody wanker. I hate him with every fiber of my being. The evil little twit hasn't gone a day seeing me without pinching my bottom since we were ten, bloody pervert.

"Ah, yes, Draco and I are the best of mates," I lied for the sake of my Father.

"But my son aside, it is so very lovely to see you again, Nemesis," Narcissa said in her snakelike tone.

"The same to you, Mrs. Malfoy," I curtsied against my will.

"Narcissa, come introduce our guests." A voice I recognized at once to be Lucius Malfoy shouted from the living area.

"Toby, take our guests' jackets!" Narcissa hissed abruptly at one of their numerous House Elves.

My parents tossed their coats at the tiny elf, covering him entirely, and entered the dimly lit room behind Narcissa. I lifted the jackets off the small being and hung them up in the hall closet, along with my own.

"Thank you, Mistress," Toby said, bowing feebly. "Toby, so-"

"Don't mention it, mate," I interrupted his unnecessary gratuitous rant, softly rubbing his head.

"Nemesis, come along now," Narcissa said, nodding towards a large dimmed living area.

I bloody hate my name, Nemesis Brinalynne Dolohov. My Father named me after the Greek goddess of revenge. He saw it fitting considering the current events of the time, imagine that. I am called "Briney" by my peers and my Mother, that is until my Father returned to us. I much prefer Briney, it doesn't make me sound like the spawn of a Death Eater. Nemesis, yuck.

The room was darker than it appeared from the hall and it was full of Death Eaters, some I knew and some I didn't. I usually didn't see too many of my parent's…peers. They kept to themselves, much like I prefer to do. I told my Mum and Dad that I had no interest in the Dark Arts long ago. I refused to partake in something I didn't believe in fully. It's as simple as me not being born evil. I had all the odds against me, both my parents being Death Eaters and all, but I like the Wizarding World as is. Needless to say, they were less than pleased to hear my refusal. Most children of Death Eaters wanted nothing more than to follow in their parents footsteps, forgive me if I prefer to not be a certified murderer.

I recognized Yaxley, the Lestrange couple, Severus Snape, Lucius and Draco Malfoy, the Crabbe and Goyle families, and then there were some families I did not recognize. There were four other girls who looked to be about my age wandering the room. A pair of them laid eyes on me and began to whisper fiercely.

"Oh, Antonin, she's perfect," a scarred, devilish looking man said, kissing my hand and sending me a very uncomfortable glare.

"Fenrir, my friend, it is so good to see you again," my Father said, shaking his hand zealously. "Thank you, I think the Dark Lord will be most pleased."

"He'd be a fool not to," Fenrir smirked, licking his lips.

"Alright, that's it," I whispered severely at my Mum. "What is all this?"

"Oh, darling, why don't you go speak with Draco for a bit," she urged, blatantly ignoring my question before she returned to her conversation with Narcissa.

I huffed off towards Draco without my answer.

"Briney!" Draco beamed, welcoming me over to his goons.

"Draco, Crabbe, Goyle," I nodded to acknowledge them one by one.

"Isn't this exciting?" he cheered.

Draco knew what was going on, and he being the braggart he is would surely share the secret. I may despise the sniveling wretch, but I knew I could always count on Draco to spill the beans.

"Draco, could I have a moment?" I asked motioning towards a secluded area.

"Of course," he said, politely offering me his arm to lead me into the hall.

Crabbe and Goyle winked at Draco as if we were going to snog in the bloody hallway or something. I rolled my eyes as Draco smiled back at them. Once we were out of earshot I began my inquisition.

"Draco, what is all this?" I whispered frantically. "Why am I here?"

"You mean you don't know?" he asked, obviously pleased that he knew more than I did.

"No, and what is with all of these girls-" I started.

"He's choosing one tonight," he said seriously.

"Who is choosing what?" I inquired.

"The Dark Lord, of course," he whispered. "You are one of the five to be chosen from. It's you, Tracy Davis, Millicent Bulstrode, Astoria Greengrass, and Pansy Parkinson-"

"For what, Draco, for what?!" I shook him by either of his forearms.

"To be the Baroness that will deliver the Dark Lord a male heir," Draco said as if it were nothing.

Suddenly, my knees buckled. The room was spinning and I couldn't breathe. This had to be a sick twisted joke, it just had to be. This could not be the reason I was brought here. My Mum and Dad would have told me, warned me, wouldn't they? Who am I kidding, of course they wouldn't. They wouldn't think twice about using me for their personal gain. I fell forward into Draco, who held me up by my forearms, my fingers clung to his robes.

"Don't worry, Briney," Draco consoled me, rubbing my arms tenderly. "I'm certain he'll pick you. My Dad gave the Dark Lord his endorsement of you, and let's face it; you're bloody gorgeous, so don't worry about disappointing your family-"

Draco was a bloody idiot, but I suppose he meant well. I shot up off him, gripping his hands a bit too tight. My face was fear stricken, I know because the way Draco looked at the sight of me was shocking.

"I have to get out of here, Draco," I pleaded desperately. "Please, help me!"

"Are you mad?" he asked dramatically.

Narcissa suddenly peaked her head into the hall.

"Oh, there you are," she said. "Nemesis, you must join the rest of the girls-"

"Mrs. Malfoy, I don't-" I interrupted.

"Oh, come now," she insisted. "Don't be nervous."

She took me swiftly by the elbow and forced me towards the other girls who actually looked proud to be in such a position. My entire body trembled in fear as Narcissa placed me at the end of the line of the four other girls. I looked for my parents. My Dad had his arm wrapped around my Mum's waist as they stared at me in line, beaming with pride. They were all insane. I caught the eye of Draco. He almost had a look a sympathy across his face, almost.

My eyes turned to the hardwood floor. I had no intention of looking up again. When the other girls curtsied I followed their actions. Apparently, the Dark Lord had arrived. I knew also because it felt as if the temperature had dropped twenty degrees and the only light in the room was the fireplace, for the candles had been simultaneously blown out. He always knew how to make an entrance.

This was not my first encounter with Voldemort. No, unfortunately I had met him many times when I was a toddler. He may have been an intimidating figure, but I refused to accept him as my Dark Lord. Every time I was forced to refer to him as such a bit of me died. He was just a big, ugly bully.

"So these are them?" the Dark Lord hissed, I refused to look up.

"Who are they?" he whispered.

"Pansy Parkinson, my Lord," Narcissa announced, clearly taking charge.

Voldemort observed her from head to toe before continuing down the line.

"Tracy Davis, Millicent Bulstrode, Astoria Greengrass and this, my Lord, is Nemesis Dolohov," Narcissa said.

I could feel him hovering in front of me. His icy breath just inches from my face. I swear my heart stopped beating., it must have frozen.

"Look at me, young Dolohov," he commanded.

I didn't move, I couldn't. He placed a long, skeleton like finger under my chin and forced me to look at his deformed face. I swallowed hard. His nose consisted of two narrow nostrils with two beady red eyes and a thin slit for a mouth.

"You are certainly a pretty little thing," he hissed. "Antonin and Ivana, you have produced a gorgeous young witch."

He traced my jawbone with his long slender finger. My stomach churned at his touch.

"Do you remain pure, young Dolohov?" he asked me.

"Pure?" I replied weakly.

"Are you a virgin?" he asked, slightly humored.

"Yes," I said quietly.

A sickening smile spread across his lips. He was pleased with my response.

"How could a pretty little thing like you remain unadulterated?" he asked.

What the bloody hell kind of question is that?

"Because I have never been in love, my Lord," I replied honestly.

A wicked laugh escaped his thin lips. My answer had humored him. Oh, joy. That was definitely not what I was going for. Everyone in the room erupted with laughter at the sound of his, bloody brown-nosers.

"I like this one," he smirked. "She humors me."

No, he liked looking at me. That was the problem I had with most blokes I meet. They'd see my exterior and completely ignore my personality. I've been told by a lot of my girl friends that they would kill to look just half as good as I do. I would just smile and thank them. Inside, it made me sad. I am much more than that, much more than a Veela. Why can't anyone see that?

"Come with me," he nodded towards what was undoubtedly Lucius Malfoy's study.

He motioned for me to slide my arm through his. I obeyed apprehensively. He led me inside and shut the door. He Apparated behind Lucius's large mahogany desk, nodding me to sit in the oversized armchair in front of him. I sat down, feeling even shorter than usual.

"How old are you, my dear," he hissed viciously.

"Seventeen," I answered softly.

"Ah, so you are of age," he smirked.

"I am still in school, my Lord," I pleaded, hoping he would still see me as a child. "This will be my seventh year at Durmstrang Institute."

"You wish to finish your education?" he inquired.

"Yes, very much so," I said a little too enthusiastically.

"Why do you not attend Hogwarts Academy, the place your Lord received his own education?" he asked in third person and as if any response would be offensive.

"My Mother is from Bulgaria, my Lord, and after my Father was imprisoned we moved back to her childhood home. She preferred to have me close to home, and when I accepted to Durmstrang it was in a perfect location," I replied. "I am certain Hogwarts is a fine institution."

He leaned back in Lucius's armchair and laced his bony fingers together. He peered over his hands and seemingly read me with his terrifying blood red eyes. I stared down at my hands in my lap. What was he thinking?

"You don't appear to be dedicated to your Dark Lord," he said, speaking in third person again.

"Sir, I-"

"I admire your relentless spirit," he smirked.

I must have misheard him. I could not have heard him say that he admired my spirit. This was the farthest thing from what I expected the devil himself to say.

"Thank you, my Lord," I said simply.

"I will enjoy slowly crushing it, as well," Voldemort said.

That was more like it.

"You will deliver me a male heir," he said as if he was ordering a bloody salad or something.

"I must protest-"

"Not now," Voldemort interrupted. "In one year, in one year I will be stronger, more powerful, more whole. Yes, one year from now we will conceive an heir to my great legacy."

"But I do not-"

"There will be no objections," he said simply, "and you will attend Hogwarts Academy, so I can better keep a closer eye on you."

I opened and closed my mouth. In a matter of minutes I had gone from a perfectly content young witch to the baroness of the most powerful wizard in history. My head swam in a pool of sorrow, shock, and destitution.

"I will entrust Master Malfoy with your safety and fidelity at Hogwarts. He will be my eyes and ears," he said flatly. "Severus Snape will provide you with equal protection, as well."

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself," I snapped, "and I perfectly happy at Durmstrang."

He began to cryptically laugh once more, standing immediately from his seat and drifting to the door. He peered back at me for just a moment.

"You are amusing," he smirked, taking a step out the door, "because you think that matters."

PLEASE REVIEW. I am really proud of this plotline, and I really would like some feedback!