Chapter Text
Hermione was ready for a regular boring Monday at the Ministry. She saw the Daily Prophet while she was passing by a colleague’s desk. Her brain didn’t immediately register the words she had read, and when it did, she turned around so suddenly she nearly fell over.
“Mind if I take a look at that, Adkins?”
“Sure. Young as you are, you might wanna read that real careful.”
“Not just some of the regular nonsense Skeeter is spewing?” Hermione asked, her eyes scanning the front page.
“’Fraid not.”
“Right. I’ll be borrowing that.”
“Good luck.”
Harry was preparing lunch because he knew Ginny would be hungry when she came back from practice. He smiled to himself as he heard the door open loudly and Walburga’s shrieks filled the empty house. Soon after they stopped Ginny’s voice came from the doorway.
“We’ve got to get married.”
Harry didn’t let her see how shocked he was at those words.
“In my perfect proposal plan I was the one asking the question” he said. He heard her throw something onto the table. Taking off the pan from the stove, he finally turned around. An issue of the Daily Prophet lay on the table. The headline was written with large letters but that didn’t stop Harry from blinking to make sure he’d read it right. After a few seconds he met Ginny’s eyes.
“We need to call Ron and Hermione.”
“You do that. I’ll book us a date this week.”
Ron was dragged to Grimmauld place by his sister and had had enough when she jabbed him in the ribs while taking out her wand to shut Walburga off.
“OI! Watch where you put that thing. What on Earth is so important? Some of us work you know!”
“Shut up, Ron, that’s more important than work” Hermione pulled him inside the kitchen impatiently. “Honestly, you should start reading something . At least newspapers.”
“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at work too?”
Before Hermione could answer, Harry shoved the Daily Prophet in front of Ron. The three of them watched their friend go from disinterested to shocked while skimming the front page.
“What in the name of Merlin’s saggy-”
“I’d also like to ask you to be my best man tomorrow” Harry said matter-of-factly. Ron gaped, then turned to Hermione.
“Yes, I am the maid of honour, and no, don’t you even think about it” she cut him off before he’d even begun.
“Why the rush, Draco?” Astoria asked as he buttoned up his coat.
“Mother wants me home, said it’s urgent” the young man paused at the door, turned around and kissed her lightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
It hurt him to see her that sad; he really liked her, but his mother was always his first priority. He Disapparated, promising himself he would make it up to Astoria.
The Manor looked strangely uninviting today. It hadn’t been a particularly nice place while the self-proclaimed Lord was living there but growing up it had been Draco’s safe haven. Now, however, even though the late August sun was high in the sky, Malfoy Manor looked shadowy. He hoped that after the trials and his parents’ divorce, he wouldn’t have to come here for bad news again. But his mother’s note was obviously written hastily, with a trembling hand. Draco tried to shrug off the bad feeling and opened the front door. The Manor’s long corridor was dark, a lone streak of light shone from the dining room. Draco moved towards it and entered the room, immediately feeling the tension in the air.
“Mother” he greeted politely and went to hug her. “Father.”
“Draco” Narcissa didn’t let him go easily. “I’m sorry for the urgency but this is important.”
Draco noticed Lucius seemed to be enjoying this.
“What’s going on?” he spat at his father.
“You don’t read the paper anymore?” Lucius smirked.
“I don’t feel the need to-”
Narcissa prevented the situation from escalating by handing Draco today’s issue of the Daily Prophet.
“Merlin!” he gasped when he read the front-page headline.
“He won’t help with that” Lucius said somewhat bitterly.
“Draco, I know you and Astoria have only recently developed a relationship, but if you are both willing-”
“I know I am! I don’t want to imagine the other option. I have to go back and talk to her!”
“I do hope I’ll get an invitation to the big event.”
The young man had nearly run out of the room when his father’s words caught up to him. He stopped dead.
“If anything, it will be a small gathering. Only those closest to us will be present” he answered without looking back, then left with a ‘Goodbye’ to his mother.
Narcissa sighed as she heard her son leave the Manor. He, at least, would be fine. She had a good feeling about the Greengrass girl.
“So, our son is taken care of. What about me and you then?”
She flinched when he spoke, having forgotten how sweet his voice could be when he wanted to.
“Come on, my love, we were perfect together. Look at the perfect gentleman we raised, always thinking about those he loves. Not his own father, but you can tell him he’s wrong to do that.”
Narcissa rarely lost her composure. But now she did.
“Draco has every right to hate you. And so do I. Since the moment you let that inhumane creature into our home. And don’t you even think about us again! Hopefully your house arrest will save any woman from having to marry you, but even if it doesn’t, I would rather be thrown in Azkaban than ever be with you again.”
With that she strode out and Disapparated as soon as she left the grounds of Malfoy Manor. The house she had recently purchased in Muggle London was the perfect place to sit and think for a while. Not that there was much to think about. The urgent matter had been dealt with. Draco wasn’t going to be affected. As for her, she would put up with whatever came her way. She wasn’t a Black for nothing. Her eyes focused on the newspaper she had left on the sofa in her hurry to get to the Manor and call Draco. The letters danced mockingly in front of her.
British wizarding populace endangered after the war
Ministry issues new law: All wizards and witches of age to be married and produce heirs