Chapter Text
Chapter One
Pansy Parkinson never thought that this would be her life. She always thought— knew —it would entail marrying a pureblood wizard, having a child or two, and becoming a socialite like her mother.
But no. Instead, here she was—marrying a Weasley.
It all started with the damned Ministry. They saw the dwindling numbers after the war, the need to rebuild, and thought hey, you know what would be a great idea? Forcing people to get married.
They barely even gave notice, instead sending a letter to every citizen and forcing any unmarried citizens of the ‘child-bearing age’ to submit blood samples the next day. Then, to ensure the best hope at producing offspring, they paired you with your ‘ideal genetic match.’ Failure to comply with the law would provide a swift wand snap and life-ban from the wizarding world.
It had caused an uproar. Hermione Granger had tried her hardest to convince Minister Shacklebolt to reverse the law, but he was steadfast in the decision. After Granger and her Swot Team failed, the pureblood society had attempted to bribe whoever they could. Pansy’s father had offered Shacklebolt nearly fifty thousand galleons to pair her with someone from their inner circle, but Shacklebolt was as good as they came. He told her father that the magic involved wouldn’t allow outside influence, but Pansy didn’t believe that.
When Pansy received her match letter, her father nearly burnt their house to the ground in anger. She was sure Shacklebolt had paired her with Percy Weasley as a slight against her family.
She’d never even talked to him, except once in second-year when he took house points from her for being out of bed past curfew. Percy had been there during the war, had fought with his family, but Pansy had only seen him for a brief moment. And that was nearly a year ago.
The man before her was...not the same as what she remembered. Percy Weasley was a tall, hulking figure, still lanky, but not at all like he had been in school. No, his robes had been cut precisely to emphasise just how strong his arms were.
Percy nodded in greeting to both her and her mother, his bright blue eyes flashing behind black-rimmed spectacles. “Will Mr Parkinson be joining us?”
“I’m afraid my husband was ill this morning, but he sends his best.” Her mother interjected, lying through a strained smile. Pansy’s father refused to be in the same room as a Weasley and refused to acknowledge she was marrying one. Pansy knew he would disown her once this was all over and she had the Weasley name. That thought made her throat close.
Pansy said nothing in reply. She wrinkled her nose and stepped past Percy to the Minister's office. Today was her wedding day, and she just wanted to get it over with. Some of the better-matched couples had opted for extravagant weddings, but people like her had instead chosen to do it as privately as possible. Draco, who was matched to Granger of all people, married her in the dead of night, with no one else except for the Minister. The shame he felt had to be double what Pansy did.
Pansy had tried, had begged her father to do anything he could to stop this. And Pansy didn’t beg lightly. But there was nothing to be done, nothing, except marry Weasley.
But Pansy wouldn’t take that lying down.
“Pansy, Percy, Mrs Parkinson. Lovely to see you all.” Shacklebolt greeted as they stepped into his office. He stood from his desk and rounded it, shaking Percy’s hand. When he offered one to Pansy, she sniffed and turned her head sharply. The idea of shaking the hand of the man who ruined her life turned her stomach.
But Shacklebolt only chuckled and shook her mother’s hand. It sparked the flames of Pansy’s irritation.
“Well, I won’t delay, let’s get on with it.” Shacklebolt reached for a strip of golden fabric piled atop his desk and gestured for them to walk forward. Percy, the Ministry dog that he was, did so without hesitation. On the other hand, Pansy needed a sharp pinch from her mother to take the necessary steps. Shacklebolt smiled at her in a way that made her want to reach up and smack it from his face. It was condescending; like she was a little girl who didn’t know what she wanted. But she was twenty, and she wasn’t a fool. Pansy knew she had to do this—that she had no other choice.
Shacklebolt gestured down to their hands, “Hold your hands out, Percy. And Pansy, please place yours in his.”
Hands waiting in mid-air, Percy’s long fingers stretched out in invitation. Pansy pressed her lips together and held her breath, hesitating as she stared at the ugly freckled skin. Surprisingly his hands were larger than she imagined; much larger than hers.
Percy’s fingers flexed in the air. She gave a desperate glance to her mother, who replied with a sharp glare to just get on with it .
Pansy shoved her hands into Percy’s with a forceful huff, his fingers curling around her palm.
And the strangest thing happened.
A sudden spark tingled from her fingertips and straight up her arms, cascading over her skin like a current-charged waterfall. A strangled gasp left her lips as a low grunt left Percy’s, but before either could pull their hands away, Shacklebolt wrapped them in the golden fabric. With their hands now tethered together, the electricity continued, goosebumps breaking out over Pansy’s skin.
“What you’re experiencing,” Shacklebolt explained as he pulled out his wand, “is the soulmate bond reaching for its pair.”
Pansy heard her mother gasp softly, though the roaring in her ears made hearing difficult. Her gaze stayed fixated on their hands. Soulmate. Percy Weasley was her soulmate.
“Is that…” Pansy forced out. “That’s what the blood was for.”
Shacklebolt nodded and tapped his wand to the top of the fabric. Bright silver streaks of magic ran in tandem with the threads, making their hands glow as magic surrounded them. “Though I can’t get into too many specifics, what I can tell you is that we’ve had our Unspeakables developing this since the War ended. Our system wasn’t random. We wanted to ensure the proper matches for our citizens; ones that would benefit the Wizarding World, and the couples we’re forcing to get married.”
Pansy could feel Percy’s fingers tighten around her own, and it did something funny to her stomach.
“If we’re... what you say we are,” Pansy couldn’t manage to call Percy her soulmate. “Then what is it you’re doing with the fabric?”
Shacklebolt smiled and looked to Percy, “Would you care to explain since you created it?”
Pansy, who had kept her eyes completely averted from Percy’s face, snapped them instantly up. Sapphire burned into her forest green, and a thrill—that she vehemently tried to ignore— ran through her.
“This cements the bond to the Ministry,” Percy’s deep voice vibrated in Pansy’s chest. “It’s similar to an unbreakable vow, but not quite as severe. You won’t die if you break it.”
Pansy frowned and pressed her lips together, glaring at the small smile Percy gave her. “And what? We vow to fuck like rabbits and give the Ministry all the children they want?”
Her mother gasped behind her, “Pansy!”
Shacklebolt coughed into his hand, amusement lacing his features. It only fueled Pansy’s anger. “I suppose in a manner of speaking, yes.”
Pansy said nothing. Instead, her eyes returned to burning a hole into their joined hands. Electricity still cascaded over her skin, though it lessened the longer they touched.
“I promise I’ll be good to you, Pansy,” Percy whispered, squeezing her hands gently.
Pansy let out a sharp laugh, “Even if you were horrible, I don’t have much choice in the matter, do I?”
The room fell silent, and Shacklebolt twisted his wand, the silver strings tightening on their hands. “A kiss is needed to declare the bond official.”
The sparks returned to Pansy’s skin as she took a sharp inhale of air, steeling herself. She just wanted it to be over.
Raising her face and closing her eyes, she felt Percy lean down. He gently touched his lips to hers, causing a knee-buckling feeling to overwhelm her. Electricity met fire, pulling her beneath a raging inferno. Before Pansy could succumb to it and wrap her arms around Percy, he stepped away.
And just like that, they were married.