Sorry for the lack of updates latelt, I've been busy studying for finals. In a few weeks things should calm down, until then I will update slowly.

After this chapter the story will become more action packed, I just needed a simply way to get Fleur involved and small hints from later storylines introduced. Please review! They give me motivation to keep writing. :) I love hearing pros and cons about what you all like! Enjoy :)

Fleur Delacour had never been more miserable. Two days had passed since she learned of her fate, and she hated her father now more than ever. He had always been controlling, and more demanding than she knew most fathers were. He expected the best from her, from the way she presented herself in public to the grades she received while in school.

Fleur had always done what was expected of her. She wore the right clothes, she never wore her hair up, she curtsied and smiled. She was a fraud. She knew it, and her father knew it. It was only the rest of the world that didn't. She hated it. But she did it nonetheless, she knew the consequences if she didn't, and she didn't want her father to take his anger out on her, or Merlin forbid, her younger sister.

She had known from a young age that she wouldn't be allowed to marry for love. She had dreamed of meeting a handsome young man, falling in love, and running away. But she was too much of a coward to do so. Her happiness was like a pawn, forced to be sacrificed for the good of others. But the son of the Dark Lord? Even in France the dark wizard was feared. And Fleur feared that she was leaving one monster, only to be forced into marriage to another.

She had been shocked and horrified to be informed that she was going to marry Hadrian Slytherin. Her father had told her it would be an honor, and that by arranging their marriage, their family would survive. That Fleur would ensure the Delacour name lived on for eternity. That her father's influence would spread. She would've laughed if she hadn't been so horrified. The last thing she wanted her father to have was more power. But she agreed, she had to, it was agree or face her fathers wrath. Or worse, that of the Dark Lord's.

She had never seen the Dark Lord, but she had heard of him. Everyone had. He was feared by all, even the most powerful members of France's elite. Bile rose in her throat at the thought of infuriating him.

"Are you still moping about?" Fleur jumped as her fathers harsh voice filled the room.

Fleur quickly swiped at her cheeks, tears would only make her father more angry. Her father was a tall man, with broad shoulders and thick arms. His jaw was wide and his eyes bluer than the deepest ocean. They would've been beautiful, if they weren't so cold.

A small house elf stood slightly behind her father, Tippy, Fleur's personal elf. She was a small creature, with perky ears and tennis ball sized eyes. She wore a white dress, a unicorn wearing a golden crown against a light blue background embossed on her chest. The Delacour family crest.

"We are leaving for Britain in three hours," Sebastian said. He eyed Fleur with disdain. "Your elf shall see to it that you look presentable."

"Oh, yes," Tippy squeaked. She sounded nervous, the way she always did around Sebastian Delacour. "Tippy will make her mistress look perfect."

"See to it that you do," Sebastian said. The threat clear in his voice. Tippy shuddered as she nodded her head quickly, her ears flapped. Sebastian walked forward until he was three feet in front of Fleur.

"I have told you what is at stake should you fail," Sebastian said. "The Dark Lord is powerful, and the safety of France and our family rests with his alliance. Shall you disappoint him in any way," his lips curled, his handsome features distorting into something foul, "you will not like the consequences." He looked at her critically.

Fleur bit her tongue, the taste of copper filled her mouth. She wanted to scream, to cry, to bang her fists against the wall. But she had done all of that, and it had changed nothing.

"I won't disappoint you," Fleur said. Her voice barely above a whisper.

"You best not," Sebastian said. He grabbed her chin, Fleur forced herself not to flinch. "Do as the young Lord says. You will be his wife. Your mind and body will belong to him." Fleur felt tears prick at her eyes. Sebastian's grip on her chin tightened. "Did I make a mistake in choosing you to marry the young Lord? Gabrielle is eleven, according to the old laws and the new, in a few years she will be old enough to marry." Bile rose in Fleur's throat.

"I will please him," Fleur said. Her voice surprised her with its steadiness. "I will not let you down."

Sebastain eyed his daughter. Fleur forced herself to relax, for her face to empty of all emotion. Finally, after what felt like eternity, her father let go.

"Be in the parlor at a quarter till noon," Sebastain said. "Not a moment later."

Sebastian turned from the room, his boots clicked against the marble floor. As he closed the door behind him Fleur fell to the ground. Her body shook as the tears she had been holding back since her father had entered the room fell down her cheeks.

Ostentatious would be insufficient to describe the reception room at Slytherin Manor. Half the size of a quidditch pitch, the ceiling soared thirty feet high. Portraits lined the walls, witches and wizards in green trimmed robes stood regally from within gilded frames. A fireplace, tall enough for a giant to walk through crackled with orange flames. Star shaped rubies the size of a large fist glittered from the mantle.

Black dragon hide couches filled the room, feathered quilts slung over some. The Pegasus feathers they were woven from shimmered. Flowers filled antique vases, some taller than the tallest goblin. Bright reds, deep purples, and various shades of blue.

Hadrian stood in his favorite forest green robes, his posture tall and confident. He patted his pocket, he felt a small hard box.

"Remember what I said Hadrian," Tom instructed.

Hadrian glanced at his father. His mind flashed back to the previous night, to the words his father had spoken to him. 'In public, you must show your wife affection or indifference, never disdain. In private the decision is yours. A marriage can either be one of convience or one of mutual affection. But do not make the decision in haste, a relationship ruined cannot easily be repaired.'

Hadrian was pulled to the present as the fireplace flared to life. The orange flames which had been crackling shot up and turned a sickly shade of green. The flames died down as four people stepped out.

Hadrian's eyes immediately landed on the young woman who had to be Fleur. She was tall, but still she looked as if she'd only reach his shoulders. Silvery blonde hair fell to her waist. Her eyes were as blue as Hadrian's were green. A long silk blue dress hugged her body eccentuating her curves.

An older woman who looked like Fleur, only a decade older stood behind her. A petite girl, who too looked like Fleur stood next to a man Hadrian had seen in the international wizarding paper.

"My Lord," Sebastain stepped forward and bowed. "It is an honor to see you once again. Young Lord," he turned and bowed to Hadrian, "it is of course an honor to meet you."

"My wife Appoline," Sebastian continued, "and my daughters Fleur and Gabrielle." Appoline bowed as Fleur and her sister courtesied.

"It is an honor to be in your presence my Lords," Appoline said.

Hadrian's father said nothing. He could see Sebastian stand up even straighter, his chest puffed out. He reminded Hadrian of a peacock. Hadrian looked at Fleur, he could see the uncertainty and fear in her eyes. He knew she couldn't approach him first. He stepped forward.

"Hello Fleur," Hadrian said. "I'm Hadrian, but I assume you're aware of that."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Fleur said. Her fingers pinched her dress as she curtsied.

"There's no need for that," Hadrian said. "We're to be married soon, let's not stand on social formalities." Fleur glanced at her father.

The room descended into awkward silence. Hadrian wanted to roll his eyes. He could sense his father's annoyance.

"Sebastian," Tom said smoothly, "Appoline, we have much to discuss. Hadrian will show Fleur around while we adjourn with young Gabrielle to my office."

"Of course my Lord," Sebastain said. "Enjoy your afternoon young Lord."

Hadrian was certain that comment wasn't meant for him. "You as well."

Hadrian held out his arm. Something flashed in Fleur's eyes, the emotion was gone too fast for Hadrian to decipher it. Fleur placed her hand on his forearm.

Hadrian and Fleur walked in silence through the manor. Fleur's heels make a clicking sound as she walked. Hadrian could hear her breathing. In and out, in and out.

Hadrian wouldn't deny that Fleur was beautiful, no doubt the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was poised, and there was a fire in the depths of her eyes. It was hidden, as though it had been squashed. But he could see it.

"You're nervous," Hadrian said.

Fleur started, as though she had forgot he was there. "I'm sorry, my Lord-"

"Stop," Hadrian said. He stopped walking and Fleur froze.

"I'm sorry, did I-"

Hadrian wanted to stop her from behaving like a Death Eater before it began. Enough people bent their knee to him. He wasn't happy about their arrangement, but he was unsure how he felt about Fleur. He would be married to her for the rest of his life, he wasn't going to make a hasty judgement.

"I'm not my father," Hadrian said. He turned to face her. "I don't live and breathe formalities. Yes, there is a time and a place for bowing and all of that, but that time is not now." Fleur's eyebrows furrowed. "You are to be my wife. I didn't choose this, I know you didn't either. But we will be married, and I will not be married to a woman who feels the need to bow at my feet and call me my Lord. Hadrian. Call me Hadrian."

Fleur looked like she had been hit by a bludger. Her lips were slightly parted and her eyes wide. He could understand why. Those who didn't know him thought he loved people throwing themselves at his feet. Honestly, he found it repulsive. They were all fake, and he hated fake.

"Come," Hadrian held out his arm. "I'll show you the gardens."

Fleur had never seen a more beautiful garden. Flowers of every color sprouted from the ground filling the air with a sweet scent. Sculpted bushes carved to look like unicorns, pegasi, and dragons lined a cobblestone path that led down a small hill to a quidditch pitch. Stands rose dozens of feet into the sky.

Hadrian led her to a pond surrounded by trees with pure white bark, blood red flowers hung from their limbs. Small orange frogs jumped from quaffle sized lily pads into the blue depths. Dragonflies buzzed around, their wings flapped faster than a snitch.

Fleur glanced sideways at Hadrian. She mentally scolded herself when she felt her cheeks grow warm. She had never had a boyfriend before, she had never even been alone with one. As a Veela boys and men had always thrown themselves at her, but she knew it was due to her looks. As a half Veela her allure wasn't extremely strong, but it was enough to make most males go crazy. She hated it. But it seemed as though Hadrian didn't notice her allure, and it made him even more attractive.

Hadrian was handsome, very handsome. His black hair looked effortlessly styled and his eyes resembled emeralds. His cheeks and jawbones reminded her of the models from Witch Weekly. She could feel the confidence radiate from him. And the power, she could tell he was holding it back, but she feel so much power. She kept having to remind herself that he wasn't her boyfriend, he was her betrothed, and only because their fathers had made it so.

Fleur walked until one more step and she would be in the pond. The croaking of the frogs, the sweet scent, and the cool air. It was as though she had been transported into one of the novels she loved so much. She couldn't imagine a more peaceful place. She smiled as she breathed in the cool summer air.

"I used to come out here and read as a boy." Fleur jumped as Hadrian stepped up behind her. He laughed and her cheeks tinged red. "It wasn't my intention to startle you."

"Well you did," Fleur snapped. She regretted the tone she used the moment Hadrian's lips thinned.

"Let us return to the manor," Hadrian said. "No doubt our parents have concluded their business."

Fleur closed her eyes and bit her tongue. The taste of copper filled her mouth as she mentally berated herself. For someone so intelligent she was so stupid. Hadrian had been nothing but kind to her and she lashed out at him for no reason. He had even tried to tell her something about himself. She hated looking the fool, although with her father she was used to it, and when he had laughed at her she snapped. She needed to do something before she ruined things with Hadrian before they began.

"I'm sorry," Fleur said honestly. "I don't normally speak to people like that."

Blue eyes locked with emerald and she could see intelligence in their depths, and something she couldn't quite place. Something that told her to be careful. She swallowed.

"This is a stressful situation," Hadrian said diplomatically. His tone wasn't as light as it had been earlier, and Fleur's stomach twisted further.

Hadrian held his arm out politely, but she could sense that something had changed. She swallowed down the bile that threatened to come up. If she could tell something was wrong, than her father could too.

Hadrian stared into the flames. He could feel his fathers eyes on him, and Hadrian knew he was waiting for him to comment on what he had just been told. However, for the first time in what seemed like years he felt his mind drifting.

That afternoon, oddly, he had felt himself relax along with Fleur when she had looked out over their pond. Relaxation wasn't something Hadrian had been able to partake in much as of late. Not with what was expected of him. Almost as soon at it had begun she had snapped, it was as though a different person stood before him. He was loathe to admit he had been surprised.

Hadrian knew there were many sides to Fleur, he could see it when he looked at her. She presented herself as the perfect heiress to a noble family, and held herself with confidence. However, he could see a fragile girl behind the prettily done up exterior. Hadrian didn't like weak things or weak people, but he had felt drawn to her. Especially what was hidden underneath. He didn't like it one bit.

He hadn't expected to be more than mildly intrigued by Fleur, and he certainly hadn't expected to want to get to know her. It was cliche. Boy meets girl, boy wants to get to know girl after spending less than an hour with her. It was sickening. A distraction. A distraction is something someone in his position couldn't afford. But he was stuck with Fleur for life whether or not he thought it was a good idea. At the very least he could get to know her, for purely political reasons.

"Are we in agreement Hadrian?" His fathers' voice held a tinge of anger. Hadrian knew he hated being ignored. He pulled himself from his thoughts.

"A wedding in December sounds fine," Hadrian murmured.

Tom's features softened almost imperceptibly.

"I shall have all the arrangements seen to," Tom said. "Although I detest such saccharine events, weddings are one of the oldest wizarding traditions. My heir must have the wedding of the century."

He pulled out a quill and Hadrian's lips thinned, he wasn't looking forward to it.

The Dark Lord's Son to Marry: Hadrian Slytherin betrothed

By: Rita Skeeter

It is with much delight that I bring to you, my dear readers, this most wondrous news. At the age of seventeen, Lord Hadrian Slytherin, only son of the Dark Lord, is betrothed.

Lord Slytherin has always been an enigma. The young heir is rarely seen outside of balls, galas, or Ministry events. When he does venture into public, he is surrounded by guards. Understandably, his well-being is of the upmost importance.

The company he keeps is also understandably, only those of high status in the wizarding community. But his betrothed is not one of the young woman whose company he keeps, or any of the many available young women who frequently attend society events.

So, who is this mystery woman who captured the heart of Britain's most eligible bachelor?

I was most surprised to find out the answer to that question, for Lord Slytherins future wife is none other than Fleur Delacour, 20, the daughter of France's Minister of Magic, Sebastian Delacour. Not only is Miss Delacour from another country, but she's a half-Veela. This news I'm sure will shock many who have believed the Dark Lord opposed all supposed half-breeds.

Lucius Malfoy, Lord Slytherins godfather, had this to say. "My wife Narcissa and I could not be more thrilled to confirm the betrothal of our godson Hadrian to the beautiful Fleur Delacour."

When asked whether or not this was a ploy on the part of the Dark Lord to gain sympathy, Lucius Malfoy was adamant in his response. "The Dark Lord is many things, but if there is one thing he will never stand for, it is the use of his son as a pawn. Many people forget that the Dark Lord is not only a ruler, but a father who only wants what's best for his son. The betrothal of my godson and Miss Delacour was a personal decision made between the two of them. It is a personal matter of the heart that should be left untarnished and unquestioned."

There you have it my dear readers, the first scoop on what is poised to be the wedding of the century. When the wedding is due to take place remains a mystery. However, I can confirm that it will be before this time next year. I will of course, diligently keep you up to date as news becomes available.

Hadrian Slytherin stood looking every inch the heir to the Dark Lord in dark green robes. A beautiful woman who had to be Fleur Delacour stood at his side, one thin arm looped through his. A slinky silver dress glided down her slithe frame, and blonde hair fell in large curls down her shoulders. Breathtaking didn't do the young woman justice.

Albus studied the picture carefully. Hadrian looked the picture of confidence from the way he held himself to the slightly cocky smile he wore. That smile also held happiness, but whether or not Hadrian was truly happy with his betrothed Albus couldn't guess. Fleur was much easier to read. She looked happy, or at least to those who hadn't spent a century studying people. Worry creased her eyes, and fear hid beneath their blue depths. Albus wondered if the girl was just a pawn in Tom's games.

Albus could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him as they too finished reading the morning newspaper.

"What are we going to do about this?" Surius asked as he threw down a copy of the Daily Prophet in disgust. "Those who are neutral or on our side due to Voldemort's views on half-breeds will reconsider joining him after his son weds the Delacour girl."

"Sirius is right Albus," Kingsley said. "This is a blow none of us were expecting"

Albus ran a hand down his beard. He had been truly shocked when he had seen that mornings front page of the Daily Prophet. Although, he knew he shouldn't have been. He knew that one day Tom would use his son to reach his own ends. That Rita Skeeter spun the tale to make him look innocent in his sons betrothal was expected as soon as the headlines titled had registered. Rita had sold out to the Dark Lord long ago, even before that wretched paper she worked for had. But a marriage to the half-Veela daughter of the most powerful man in France was not something Albus had expected. That a half-breed was even allowed in Slytherin manor truly shocked him. Tom was changing the rules, and now Albus had to change some of his own.

"Kingsley, your sugesstion for the upcoming Hogwarts year, you were on to something," Albus said.

It took a lot to startle Kingsley, but he started. "It will be dangerous to everyone involved. Attempting something of such caliber under the nose of a staff loyal to Voldemort, and many students we can't trust."

"Tom is planning something big," Albus countered. "We must find out what it is. It is crucial that we do."

"I don't like this Albus," Arthur said. "They're just kids. This is what the Order has spies for."

"Tom will expect that," Albus said. "In order to beat the enemy, one must think like the enemy. Let us take a page from his book." Arthur still looked uneasy. "It is for the greater good Arthur. Tom must be stopped. If his influence continues to grow there will be no stopping him."

"He's right," Kingsley said. "It's a good plan. Along with our planned recruitments, this could lead to a victory that we desperately need."

"Who do you have in mind?" Arthur asked quietly.

Albus looked around the room, his heart heavy. His eyes settled on Sirius, and understanding flashed in his eyes. A different choice. A different life.

"Neville Longbottom."

"Blasphemous," a cold voice snarled. "A filthy half-breed, what is the Dark Lord thinking? How dare he allow his reputation to be tarnished by such filth?"

"Calm down Simon," Roger Jugson's eyes darted around his office. Even in his own home he couldn't be too careful.

"Calm down?" Simon Kincaid demanded. "That whore being allowed to marry the young Lord is an insult."

"No one seems to mind-"

"Of course they don't mind," Simon interrupted, "if the Dark Lord is fine with something all of his little sheep follow."

Roger watched Simon pace back and forth, each step echoed against the cold black marble. When Roger had heard about the Dark Lord's son's engagement he had been surprised by his choice in mate. He didn't mind. It was only muggles and muggleborns he detested. He knew most of his fellow Death Eaters didn't care either, their Lord never did or allowed anything without a reason. Especially not when it involved the one person he cared for. However, Simon had become more angry the longer he thought about it.

Simon had always thought he shared a special bond with the Dark Lord. That he was above the 'sheep' as he referred to them. Roger knew it was just a fantasy, and he never thought it could hurt, but as he watched his friend become increasingly agitated a foreboding feeling surged through him.

"But I do care," Simon continued. "I care about the Dark Lord." He stopped and stared directly at Roger. Roger was shocked at the determination and hate he saw burning in his eyes. "This will only end badly for our Lord. We must stop it."

"Have you gone around the bend?" Roger asked incredulously. "The Dark Lord will kill us both."

"Not if we succeed," Simon said. "Not if we show him what a mistake this is. What it can lead to."

"I have a wife Simon," Roger stood up. "I have children. I will not play any part in your machinations."

Roger took a step forward but froze when Simon leveled his wand at his chest. He wanted to reach for his wand, but Simon could cast a curse before it was in his hand. He thought about calling one of his house elves, but the outcome would be the same. He cursed himself for having anti-apparition wards on his office.

"What are you doing?" Roger demanded. "I'm your best friend. Are you really going to kill me?"

"No," Simon said. His voice oddly detached. "But I can't let you stop me." He flicked his wrist. "Obliviate."

Roger blinked rapidly. He looked up and saw Simon standing casually near the fireplace. He rubbed his temple, odd, he hadn't had a headache in years.

"Are you feeling ill?" Simon asked. "You look quite peaky."

"A headache is all," Roger replied. "Nothing a simple potion won't cure." He frowned. "What were we talking about? The young Lords betrothal?"

"I was actually just on my way out," Simon said. "I have a meeting in an hour."

"Ok, then," Roger said.

He barely heard Simon say goodbye as he ran a hand down his face before calling his house elf for a headache potion.