I glance at the Muggle peasants surrounding me. Poor things. They do not know what they are doing to themselves by allowing the Jacobins and the Girondans to have me executed. They don’t know what they did by having my Louis executed…

Their faces run together, blobs of grey and peach twisting and melting to form a loose, flowing sea of hatred, with a small amount of pity mixed in.

I laugh at myself. There is no pity involved. The people of France never liked me. They haven’t liked me since I was married to Louis when I was fourteen. They like me even less as a result of that horrid scandal with the diamond necklace.

But I still feel pity for the poor things. They are like sheep- believing whatever someone who looks like a shepard whispers into their ears. And unfortunately for them, the shepards they have been listening to lately are really wolves.

The people are vulnerable without Louis and me ruling them. They are a volatile force, and I pity the one who tries to take over.

“It is time, my lady,” mutters my faithful manservant, Jacques, who infiltrated the resistance on my orders.

I stare straight ahead and, barely moving my lips, whisper to him, “Jacques, you have served me faithfully for many years. Your loyalty means more than you know. You will forever have my gratitude.”

He hesitantly takes my hand and leads me towards the steps. Time stretches and slows until it nearly comes to a complete stop as I stare at the horrid contraption that will soon end my life.

The guillotine.

What a horrid machine that is, the guillotine. Even from here, I can see the dried blood that is crusted on the blade from the last time they used it. I shudder delicately.

This guillotine is the thing that killed my Louis. Soon it shall kill me too, and leave my children orphans.

I can think of no worse fate in this world than to grow up without a mother and a father to love you. Now my children- my poor, beautiful children- will have such a fate thrust upon them by the people of France, who I have loved for years! I loved them even when they did not love me, as a mother loves her children even when being naughty. Now my people are forcing my children to grow up without me.

I sigh as I stare at the guillotine, that cruel instrument of death. Hopefully death with come swiftly and I will not linger.

Oh, Louis! Were that you were here to keep me strong, for I cannot stay strong much longer. Jacques said it was nearly time, but time has stopped and left me here alone with my thoughts. All alone, without the children or you to keep me sane.

I slowly step forward, towards the death-bringing machine, when I catch a shimmering in the air. I feel a gentle breeze, a touch like ice, and a soft, familiar voice in my ear, whispering, “Marie, mon amour.”

“Louis, mon amour,” I whisper back. My heart leaps. Louis is here! He came back for me! He shall keep me strong when I falter.

With Louis beside me, I feel the world begin to move again, to bring life and death, happiness and broken hearts. My heart breaks for the people of France, but I am no longer their queen.

I am no longer their queen. I am simply me. Maria Antonia. Marie Antoinette.

I slowly, cautiously ascend the steps to the guillotine, men in front of and behind me to keep me from falling. But it is not they who I count on to catch me should I fall. My Louis is here; I need no other person to be strong. For even though I am no longer their queen, I feel a sense of responsibility towards the French people. I have lived with them for so long, and even though they do not love me, I love them.

“Be strong, dearest,” whispers Louis. One of the guards hears him and stumbles into me. I am quick to steady myself and pretend that I stumbled into him instead of the other way around. “Monsieur, I beg your pardon,” I say to him. He nods at me curtly, wanting to get this- me- over with so he can move on with his day. I yearn to reprimand him, but it would be silly for me to give a lecture on courtesy before my death.

I glance at Louis. It is hard to see him- the sun is so happy it has chased all of yesterday’s gloomy clouds away. I want the clouds back- they would feel more appropriate with my mood. Even though I am finally free of responsibility, I am still moving closer to my death.

I think one more time of my children. Ah, my blessed children! Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte and my little Louis-Charles. May they have a happier life than I had. May they find happiness and peacefulness, and be touched by sorrow sparingly.

May they live to see their children grow up.

And my poor Louis-Joseph and tiny Sophie-Beatrix. The poor dears. They died so young. Should I move on to be with them? Or stay here and be with Louis for eternity?

I glance at Louis, the shimmering patch of air next to me, hoping he will have the answer. “Be strong, mon amour,” he whispers to me. “You can do this.”

I look at him, love in my eyes. I nod, almost imperceptibly, but I know Louis saw me. “Come back for me, mon amour,” he whispered. “Come back for the children. They may not know we are here, but we can watch them grow up. We can watch time march on, see what happens to the people of France."

I am up on the platform now, facing the death machine. The executioner pushes me down onto my knees and forces my head into place. I could Apparate now, escape with the children, but a queen does not run from her fate. I am no longer a queen, but I must still act like one. The people of France are still my people, and I must set a good example.

I look at Louis as the blade comes down…

And I know no more.

---

I sigh with boredom. It has been over two hundred years since my execution. Louis and I have taken to haunting the halls of Beauxbatons, the French wizarding school. It is interesting to see the children come and go. My dear Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte was my only child to survive into adulthood, and she never had any children of her own. So now, every child that walks into this school I consider my own. They come to me with their problems, and I give them advice that comes from many years of experience.

But even though the children come and go, and the teachers, and the Headmasters and Headmistresses, I always have my Louis.