Chapter 6–A New Law

MAY 15 2002

NEW MARRIAGE LAW ENACTED BY MINISTRY

A Ministry spokesperson held a press-conference late last night.

“It has come to the attention of the Ministry that more and more magical children being born are, well, not magical.  Many in the Ministry believe this to be the result of breeding with Muggles and we must stop this practice immediately.  Purebloods may only marry purebloods, half-bloods may only marry half-bloods, and Muggleborns may only marry Muggleborns.  Since our numbers dwindled drastically in the recent years due to civil war, we have also decided to make marriage compulsory for witches of child-bearing age and at least two offspring must be born to the couple within the first 5 years of marriage.  The punishment if these conditions are not met is for the witch or wizard’s wand to be snapped in half.  Furthermore, for a fee, a witch or wizard can view a list of all eligible partners which includes a lengthy personal record of individuals in addition to personal photographs.  If someone particular catches your fancy, it will be possible to have a marriage contract drawn up between the two, even without the other parties consent.  We hope that these additional features will increase the coffers of the Ministry such that we will not be forced to raise taxes to pay for the ongoing reconstruction from the previously mentioned civil war.  Thank you and good night.”

As he stepped down from the podium, many people were far too busy trying to process this new law to ask many questions.  As a result, we at the Daily Prophet have convinced him to come to a private meeting tonight and answer individual questions.  Please owl any questions, comments, or concerns you have about this new law and we’ll select the best of the bunch to ask him tonight!

Draco placed his teacup back on the table and barely restrained the urge to bury his face in his hands.  Both his parents had greatly influenced and supported this law as it went through the Ministry of Magic.  He briefly wondered why his father didn’t actually work in the Ministry: he had more than enough money to buy a comfortable, influential position in the upper ranks without actually soiling his hands running for the position of Minister himself.  He had spent the year after Draco’s graduation from Hogwarts teaching him how to run the family business, Malfoy Holdings, before officially retiring.  Nowadays he could be found lounging under canopies in his mother’s gardens alternatively studying the Dark Arts and finances when not meddling around in the Ministry.

Draco’s job as the head of Malfoy Holdings was actually quite easy.  It was a figurehead position with just enough work to make sure his subordinates didn’t have complete control.  It had been like this for generations and appeared to work quite well as the Malfoy family had amassed quite a sizeable fortune.  Unfortunately, he still was required to be in his office from 8:30 AM to 4:30 PM every weekday.  He had tried to push the limits of this the first few weeks after he took over the company, but his father came into his bedroom every morning, roaring at him to get up and how such things build character.  Finally, a well placed Stinging Hex had convinced him that he would be in his office at 8:30 AM sharp every day. 

Unfortunately, he was still not ready for surprises such as this to be handled at 7:30 AM.  Couldn’t one of his parents at least given him a heads up that this would be officially passed and in today’s paper?  Just because he knew it was coming didn’t mean that he was prepared for it.

“You’ve seen the paper then?”  Lucius Malfoy’s cold drawl came echoing across the dining hall.  Draco nodded glumly, grasping his teacup once again, hoping that if he got more caffeine in his system this would all be passed off as an awful dream.   As he did, he noticed his father’s spidery hand reach out and take the paper from his spot at the head of the table.  “Hmm… going to have to speak to old Fysbutts about that, they must’ve changed that clause last night.  Why wouldn’t he have told me?”

“So it’s official then?” Draco asked glumly, staring at the bottom of his now empty teacup.

“Hmm, quite,” came his father’s familiar drawl from behind the paper.  “You may have the day off; I imagine your mother will want to drag you down to the Ministry to choose a wife.  Since you haven’t told us about seeing anyone then anyone you have been seeing is completely unacceptable, do you understand?”

“Yes,” Draco replied, motioning the teapot to refill his teacup while he pulled an Invigorating Draught out of his pocket and added it to the fresh tea.  This really was much too early in the morning to be dealing with this sort of thing and he really was too busy with work to even think of entertaining a female companion.  Figurehead my arse.  The only way it’d be a figurehead position is if I blindly signed every form that came into the office, but that would be ludicrous.  Taking a gulp of tea he instantly felt the potion take effect.  It was not a moment too soon.

“Lucius!  Lucius!  Have you seen the paper?” his mother gasped as she ran, yes ran, into the dining hall.  Draco barely managed to keep his jaw off the floor and was certain he would not have been able to manage that feat had he not just taken the Invigorating Draught.  He hastily gulped at his tea again.

“Yes, Cissy, I even managed to keep some sense of decorum while I read it,” Lucius drawled, clearly amused at his wife’s highly unusual antics.  He doted on his wife as much as he was harsh on his son.  Narcissa could do little wrong, or at least excusable, but Draco must always strive towards perfection in his eyes. 

“Oh, you, you never get excited over anything,” she sniffed, waving a hand in his direction.  “Oh, good morning, Draco darling!  I suppose you have read the paper as well?”

“I have, Mother,” he said, calmly until she floated over towards him, peppering his forehead in kisses, causing him to look up in alarm.  “Mother, are you feeling alright this morning?”  he demanded, wiping the stray lipstick from his forehead and unfortunate eyelid.

“Of course I am!” she said indignantly.  “A mother has a right to be excited, does she not?  It’s not every day she gets to help her son choose a wife!”

Draco groaned inwardly.  “Of course, Mother.”

She beamed at him, patting his shoulder.  “Would you like to join us, Lucius?” she asked sweetly.  Draco smirked to himself, this was a surefire way to cause his father to lose his cold demeanor and scamper out of the room without a second glance back.  His prediction was rewarded moments later.

Lucius bolted up from his chair, breathing in half his cup of tea in the process.  “No, no, I’m fine,” he managed to get out between coughs.  “Must be getting into the office since Draco won’t be going in today.”

She put on a bright smile, calling out, “If you insist, darling!” as he exited the dining hall in only a slightly more mannered fashion than she had just entered it.  “Well then, Draco, it looks like it’s just you and me today.”

Draco gulped.  What on earth had he done to deserve this?

 -----

Draco suppressed another annoyed sigh.  There were, apparently, 843 eligible pureblooded witches between the ages of 16 and 54 in Great Britain he could choose as a bride.  So far both he and his mother had dismissed 785 potential brides (several simply because neither could bear him marrying a woman older than Narcissa and he quite a few more because they were too young for his tastes) and the Ministry official who had stayed in the room to assist them had fallen asleep hours prior.  Fortunately, their house-elf, Nodda, was permitted in the Ministry and had been able to bring them meals and snacks from the Manor.  She had just finished serving them dessert so Draco guessed it was around 8 PM.

“Oh my,” Narcissa breathed, pushing her dessert plate aside as she looked at the bridal registry once more.  “Graduating this year from L’Academie des Sorcieres, interest in fashion, interest in Quidditch, are you listening to me, Draco?”

“I’m sorry, what were you saying, Mother?” he asked, not looking up from the remnants of the cheesecake he had pulverized on his plate and was currently charming into various shapes and structures.

“I found a suitable woman who enjoys Quidditch,” she huffed.  “I thought that might finally pique your interest.”

Draco’s eyes snapped up.  “Are you serious, Mother?”

“Quite,” she said, throwing him a pointed glare.  She was clearly not pleased that he was more interested in playing with the remains of his cheesecake than paying attention to the task at hand.  “Apparently she plays both the Chaser and Seeker positions.”

This finally had his interest, especially since his mother approved of her enough that she was annoyed at his disinterest.  “What else can you tell me about her?”

“Well,” Narcissa started, treading lightly around the issue she knew he wouldn’t like.  “She’s still in school, but she’s attending L’Academie des Sorcieres.”

“Where?”  Draco asked, confused.  He was sure the major Wizarding schools in Europe were Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beuxbatons.  This school sounded very French and very unfamiliar.

“L’Academie des Sorcieres,” Narcissa repeated, allowing herself a miniscule eye roll.  “It’s a highly exclusive school for witches.  Morgana herself attended.”

“Oh,” Draco said, mildly impressed.  “So she’s smart then?”

“I can see the late hour is certainly not improving your reasoning skills,” Narcissa muttered under her breath.  “Well, not necessarily smart.  She’s most likely very intelligent, but the girls are handpicked to attend by a Seer.  She obviously has some important role, visible or not, in society.  There are several volumes in the library on the history of the school, I can have them sent to your room tomorrow.”

“Er, no, that’s quite alright,” Draco stammered.  The long day coupled with the early morning was not boding well for him.  “Er, if she’s still in school, how old is she?” 

“It says here that she was born on 11 August 1981, so that’d make her 20 right now, just a year younger than yourself.”  Seeing her son’s interest, Narcissa glanced sharply at him.  “Would you like to see her page?”

“Yes, Mother,” Draco asked in a rather bored fashion.  He did have to pick a bride after all and this one seemed alright so far.  He just hoped she didn’t appear to be related to mountain trolls as the last two girls interested in Quidditch had been.  His hopes were a bit higher, seekers generally had a small, light build and the two other girls had been beaters.  “What!?  NO!  Since when did Weasley have a sister?!”