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Arthur Weasley was enjoying his morning cup of hot tea on a cold and wet November morning when a series of urgent tapping came from the window behind him. He looked over to Molly, who was mixing some finicky batter by hand, before draining the rest of his tea and seeing to the post owl.
He opened the window, allowing the owl to swoop low over the table, drop a familiar violet-sealed envelope, and retreat back from whence it came. Arthur replaced the latch and approached the ominous delivery with caution.
“Arthur?” Molly called from across the room. “Is that from the Ministry? Who’s it for?
Arthur frowned as he lifted the envelope, the name on the front glistening in deep purple ink. “Ginny.”
Molly cocked her head. She cast a quick spell on the dough to continue kneading itself, and crossed to Arthur, wiping her hands on her apron. “What in Merlin’s name would the Ministry need with Ginny?”
“I’m not sure,” Arthur muttered, turning the envelope over in his hands. The seal bore the embossed crest of the Ministry of Magic, stamped in dark violet wax. Beneath it, in neat, uncompromising script, was a departmental mark:
Department of Magical Registration
Division: Status Review
Arthur’s frown deepened. He ran his thumb along the edge of the parchment, then tapped it lightly with his wand. The envelope shimmered faintly, but remained firmly shut.
“It’s sealed against interference,” he said quietly. “Only the addressee can open it.”
Molly’s expression tightened. “A Status Review?” she repeated. “What status could they possibly be reviewing? She’s seventeen, Arthur!”
“That’s… strange,” Arthur murmured. “That’s an odd department to be corresponding with a student at all.”
Molly put her hand on his arm, the worry showing in the tension of her shoulders. “Arthur. What could they possibly want with our Ginny?”
He was already reaching for his cloak. “I’ll ask Percy to look into it. Quietly.” He kissed her on the cheek and turned for the hearth, reaching for the Floo powder that would take him to work, and, hopefully, to answers.
Arthur spotted Percy in the Ministry cafeteria just after the morning briefings. He was seated at a corner table, studying a pile of colored folders with a single scone forgotten in front of him on a plate.
“Perce?” Arthur asked quietly.
“Dad.” Percy looked up. “Everything alright? You look… worried.”
Arthur withdrew the violet-sealed envelope from the inner pocket of his robes and handed it over. “I need you to look into something for me.”
Percy turned it over in his hands, noting the dark wax crest and the fine departmental script stamped beneath it. His lips screwed up in confusion as he read.
“Department of Magical Registration?” Percy asked, glancing back at his father. “Division: Status Review?”
He ran a finger lightly over the seal and gave a small, surprised huff. “Recipient-only access.” Percy frowned. “Ginny’s not applied for anything, has she?”
“If she has, she hasn’t mentioned it.”
Percy handed the envelope back to Arthur, his expression tightening. “This division doesn’t issue routine correspondence. They deal with classifications, certifications… formal designations.”
Arthur slipped the envelope back into his robes. “I don’t like it.”
“Neither do I,” Percy agreed. “Status Review isn’t something they do casually. And certainly not for a seventh-year student.”
“I’d like to know what they want her for before your mum and I speak to her.”
Percy nodded and began gathering his things, already looking distracted. “I’ll see what I can find out. It might take a little time… they’re not the most transparent department.”
Arthur patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you, son. Let me know what you discover.”
He walked off, back to his office, hoping that his own work could take his mind off this growing, Ginny-shaped mystery.
The workday was nearly over when Percy knocked on Arthur’s office door.
Arthur had been trying to focus on the stack of Muggle Artefact Misuse reports for most of the day. Instead, he’d ruminated on the possibilities as the worry in his gut increased the closer the clock moved to the end of the day. At one point, he’d even held it up to the light, hoping that he might uncover something he’d previously missed, some hint as to what this serious department might want to speak with his little girl about.
Percy didn’t wait for an answer before he stepped inside.
“Well?” Arthur stood, leaning forward on his desk.
Percy looked… off. Arthur knew immediately that whatever he had found, it hadn’t been good.
“There is an… entry,” Percy spoke at last, “under Ginny’s name.”
“What kind of entry?”
Percy crossed the room and placed the parchment on the desk, turning it so that Arthur could read: Provisional Magical Bond - Pending Review.
Arthur stared at it.
“A bond? A bond?” He repeated. “What kind of bond, Percy?”
Percy inhaled deeply and exhaled a sigh. “They think it’s an… elopement.”
“What?!” Arthur yelped, pushing himself up from his leaning position, and running his hands through his thinning hair. “Percy, what… When!?”
“Just around one in the morning on August eleventh…”
“Her birth-her birthday? You’re telling me they think that your sister eloped - what - an hour after she came of age?” Arthur paced the room. “No… no. This is some kind of mistake. Could she have been coerced? Love potion? Imperius? This makes no sense!”
Percy nodded quickly. “That’s what the hearing is for. When a provisional bond isn’t registered, the Department always investigates to see if it was an oversight or if there was compromised consent.”
Arthur’s jaw twitched. “Compromised.”
“It’s procedure.” Percy removed his glasses and rubbed at his temples. “They’ll question her, verify intent. If there’s even a hint she wasn’t fully in control, it’ll be annulled.”
Arthur sighed in relief. “Oh, thank Merlin.”
“Dad… If she’d been dosed with a love potion or put under the Imperius curse, it would have worn off by now. Why hasn’t she said anything?”
“Well… maybe he told her—” Arthur paused as it seemed to hit him that he was missing a huge piece of the puzzle. He rushed over to Percy, and placed his hands on his shoulders.
“Who? Percy, did they say who?”
Percy made a tense noise and nodded to the parchment he’d brought with him, that had been left on the desk. Arthur followed his line of sight, and then moved quickly to his desk to retrieve it. His eyes were wide and furious as they scanned the paper until…
“Draco Malfoy?” He growled the name through clenched teeth.
“Yeah…”
The parchment crumpled in Arthur’s grip. “Her seventeenth birthday…”
“Yes.”
A vein stood out on Arthur’s neck from the difficulty he was having keeping his breathing in check. “He wasn’t in Azkaban yet?”
“No,” Percy confirmed. “He was still awaiting trial. He wasn’t incarcerated until after sentencing.”
Arthur closed his eyes. The war had left many scars that had barely begun to heal. Draco Malfoy had been sent to Azkaban to a sentence of thirteen months, a sentence which Harry and Ron had a large hand in having reduced due to their testimonies. Still, he’d done enough to warrant over a year. He’d been sentenced specifically for his role in orchestrating the attack that had resulted in Dumbledore’s death and the maiming of Arthur’s oldest son - who was now apparently the boy’s brother-in-law…
Arthur handed the crumpled parchment back to his son.
“Where are you going?” Percy asked.
Arthur fastened the clasp at his throat. “Home.”
Percy blinked. “Home?”
“I’m telling your mother,” Arthur said evenly. “And then we’re going to Hogwarts.”
Percy stiffened. “Tonight?”
Arthur turned back to his son, his eyes cold and his jaw set.
“Yes. Tonight.”
Percy moved toward the door after him. “Dad, just… don’t storm in there.”
Arthur stopped but didn’t turn around.
“We don’t know what happened,” Percy continued carefully. “Maybe there’s some explanation.”
Arthur’s shoulders were rigid beneath his cloak.
“I am going to let her explain,” he said quietly. “But if that boy so much as looked at her sideways…”
He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.
Percy swallowed. “Just… talk to her first.”
Arthur gave a short nod and stepped into the corridor, heading for the Floo.
Home first.
Then Hogwarts.
And answers.
A shimmering silvery weasel burst through the wall of Professor McGonagall’s office, landing softly on the stone floor.
“Minerva,” Arthur Weasley’s voice emerged from the Patronus. “Molly and I need to come to Hogwarts at once. It’s urgent,” and the weasel dissolved.
The headmistress frowned. His voice had sounded tense, and Arthur was not known for dramatics. She opened the Floo connection to her office with a quick swish of her wand.
Moments later, Arthur emerged from the green flames, Molly following close behind.
“Arthur. Molly.” McGonagall’s gaze moved between them. “What’s happened?”
Molly shook her head, unable to get the words out. Arthur placed the parchment on her desk.
Minerva’s lips pressed tighter together as she read, until they were nothing but a thin line.
“I see.”
Molly clasped her hands tightly. “We need to speak with our daughter.”
Minerva sighed then nodded. “I’ll fetch her.” She rose from her chair and left her office briskly.
When she returned, Ginny stepped into the office ahead of McGonagall, looking faintly annoyed at being summoned after hours. She was in light blue striped pyjamas, her hair braided loosely over one shoulder.
Her expression changed to surprise the instant she saw who was standing there.
“Mum? Dad?”
McGonagall’s gaze moved between the three of them. “I will leave you to speak privately.”
She moved back toward her desk only long enough to gather a few parchments, then paused at the door.
“If you require me, I shall be just outside.”
The door closed behind her with a reverberating click.
Ginny looked from one parent to the other, her confusion quickly becoming unease.
“What’s going on?”
Arthur felt his heart twisting in his chest.
“Is everything okay?” She asked again, more urgently this time.
Molly crossed the room first, taking her daughter’s hands in her own, gently rubbing the tops of Ginny’s hands with her thumbs. “Ginny… are you okay?”
Ginny blinked. “Yes… Why wouldn’t it be?”
Arthur had almost expected that Ginny would look completely different to him, that she would appear to him as a whole new person. But instead before him stood his little girl.
“Ginny,” he said gently, though his voice carried a certain seriousness to it, “you received a notice from the Ministry this morning.”
Her brows drew together. “A notice?”
“It’s sealed, and only you can open it. I was concerned, so I asked Percy to see what this was all about.”
Arthur held her gaze. “I imagine,” he said quietly, “you already know what he found.”
Ginny didn’t answer right away.
She looked at the envelope in her hands, and for the first time since she’d walked in, her composure slipped.
“Oh,” she murmured.
Molly felt it instantly. “Ginny?”
Ginny swallowed.
“I didn’t think…” She looked away, shaking her head. “I thought I’d have more time.”
Arthur went still as Molly gripped Ginny’s hands tighter. They’d held out hope for some clerical error, some form of bureaucratic confusion, but he knew from the look in her eyes that this would not be simple, that she did not think this was a mistake, not a misunderstanding at all.
Molly’s voice wavered. “Ginny… tell me this isn’t real.”
Ginny swallowed.
“I’m sorry.”
Molly’s hand flew to her mouth. “Ginny, how could you do this? Elope? Without telling us? Without… without anyone?”
“I was of age,” Ginny said, her voice unsteady but rising. “It was my choice.”
“Of age? Of-Ginny, you were of age for all of an hour! Do you even understand what you’ve done?”
“I know what we did.” Ginny nodded, keeping her chin high.
“Do you?” Arthur gestured toward her with both hands. “You’ve tied yourself to a boy, barely a man, who hasn’t even finished paying for what he’s done. Not just to society, but to this family!”
“You think I don’t know what he did?” Ginny shot back. “You think I don’t remember?”
“Then why?” Arthur demanded. “Why him?”
Molly spoke up from behind Arthur. “Sweetheart,” she pleaded, “this boy… his name is going to follow you into every room you walk into. It’s not something that you’ll be able to undo if you change your mind—”
“I’m not planning to.” Ginny cut her off, puffing out her chest in defiance.
“That’s the point. You’re not planning to, but you have no idea what you’ll want. You’re only seventeen!”
“You both were eighteen when you got married. It’s not that different!”
“We were done with school,” Arthur cut in sharply. “We were starting our lives. You still have NEWTs to worry about for Merlin’s sake.”
Ginny steadied herself with a deep breath. “By the time he’s out, I’ll be finished,” she said. “There’s no difference. I’ll graduate. I’ll play Quidditch. We’re not having children for years.” She lifted her chin. “You did everything at once. I’m not.”
Molly made a wounded sound at the mention of children.
Arthur stared at her. “You think this is about timing? It’s about permanence.”
“It was permanent because I love him!”
“Love?” Arthur repeated, equal parts disbelieving and furious. “You can’t be serious!”
“Yes!” Ginny’s voice broke. “You don’t know him the way I do! You don’t—”
“He orchestrated an attack that nearly killed your brother,” Arthur said, his voice low and shaking.
“And he’s paying for it!” Ginny cried out. “He’s in Azkaban because he didn’t fight the charges. Because he admitted it. He didn’t try to get out of it.”
“That does not erase what happened,” Molly said.
“I’m not asking you to erase it!” Ginny’s eyes were shining with tears now. “I’m asking you to believe that I know my own heart!”
“You are seventeen,” Arthur said firmly.
“I was old enough to fight in a war,” she fired back. “Old enough to watch people die. But I’m not old enough to decide who I love?”
“And you didn’t tell us,” he said, and there it was… the deeper wound.
“I would have. When he came home. When I was done with school and signed with a team, and you could see that we had a plan.”
“A plan,” Arthur repeated faintly.
“Yes. A life. Not some... disaster you’d have to clean up.”
“And before that?” His voice sharpened again. “While you were falling in love? During a war he was standing on the other side of?”
Ginny held his gaze.
“That’s why I didn’t tell you,” she said quietly.
A thick silence filled the office. Molly lowered her hands slowly, dropping Ginny’s from her own, but her tears continued. Arthur took in the scene. His wife and his daughter, both crying. Molly sobbing devastated tears. Ginny, shaking, but stubborn. He had no idea where to go from here except-
“You are coming home tonight,” he said at last.
Ginny stiffened. “Dad, I—”
“You are coming home,” he repeated firmly. “Your appointment with the Ministry is in the morning. We’ll all go together.”
She looked between them, her face completely undecided between shame and defiance.
“They’re going to question you,” Molly said, sniffling. “About consent. About the…” she couldn’t bring herself to say ‘marriage.’
“I know,” Ginny replied quietly.
Arthur stepped closer, not to intimidate, but to make sure she heard him.
“If he rushed you… if there is even the smallest part of this that wasn’t freely chosen,” he said, “you tell them. Do you understand me?”
Ginny clenched her jaw and then relaxed it. She gave a short nod, meeting her father’s eyes without flinching.
Arthur searched her face for a moment before nodding back.
“Good. Let’s go.”
Level Five was quieter than the rest of the Ministry, all polished floors and closed doors.
Three redheads waited silently outside the interview room until it opened.
“Miss Weasley?”
Ginny straightened and walked past her parents into the interview room. Arthur and Molly were allowed to sit along the back wall. Two officials waited behind a narrow desk, files already prepared.
A witch holding a quill looked up.
“Miss Weasley, due to the nature of this filing,” she looked over the papers in front of her and read, ‘an unregistered magical union conducted without formal notice which remains unregistered,’ we are required to verify the validity of the marriage.”
Ginny nodded.
“This will include confirmation that you were and remain of sound mind, as well as a series of tests and questions regarding your spouse and your relationship. The purpose is to ensure the bond is legitimate and not the result of coercion, fraud, or temporary magical influence.”
“I understand,” Ginny said.
First the Imperius diagnostic. Then a residual potion sweep.
“All test readings clear,” the wizard said. Ginny didn’t look back at her parents, but she knew that they wouldn’t be pleased to have the last of their hopes dashed.
The witch began her interview.
“State your full name.”
“Ginevra Molly Weasley.”
“State your spouse’s full name.”
“Draco Lucius Malfoy.” Ginny heard a small note of anguish in her father’s voice from the back of the room.
“His date and place of birth?”
“Fifth of June, 1980. I… think it was at home. In Wiltshire.”
“When did you first meet Mr. Malfoy?”
“My first year at Hogwarts.”
“When did your romantic relationship begin?”
“Last October. At school.” This time, it was her mother’s choked sob that floated to her ears.
“And why was the union not formally registered?” The official with the pen asked.
“My husband was incarcerated shortly after,” Ginny replied, keeping her voice steady. “We planned to complete the paperwork when he was released.”
“We’ve just a few more questions, meant to establish the validity of the relationship prior to entry into the marriage. Has your spouse been married before?
“In his dreams.” She scoffed.
The witch looked up, unamused. “If you could stick to answering the questions, Miss Weasley?”
“He’s not been married before.”
“Does Mr. Malfoy have any children from prior relationships?”
Ginny made a “pfft” sound before clearing her throat and pursing her lips. “Sorry. No. No children.”
“Are you currently expecting as a precursor to or result of this marriage?’
“Merlin, no! I’m seventeen.”
The witch with the quill raised her eyebrows as if to suggest that plenty of witches her age had found themselves in such a predicament, but said nothing as she scratched the answer into the parchment.
“How would you describe your relationship with Mr. Malfoy’s parents?”
“Non-existent.”
This got the witch’s attention. “Oh? And why is that?”
“Well, they weren’t exactly receiving guests last year, were they?”
If the witch caught her meaning, she ignored it.
“Does your spouse bear any identifying marks?”
“He’s got a large scar across his chest and a pretty distinctive tattoo on his left forearm.” Ginny stared, daring the witch to ask for an elaboration.
The witch sighed and laid her quill on the desk.
“That’s quite enough.” She nodded at her colleague before facing Ginny again. “Everything appears to be in order. I’m going to approve the registration of the marriage.”
She signed the bottom of the parchment with a practiced flourish and a Ministry seal stamped itself into place.
“Your marriage will be entered into the official registry effective immediately,” she continued. “You will receive certified copies by owl within three business days. Do you wish to assume the Malfoy name at this time?”
Ginny looked back at her horrified parents. “No,” she said quickly. “I intend to finish my education under my own name.”
The quill scratched again.
“Spousal visitation privileges will also be updated.”
For the first time since she entered the meeting, Ginny’s composure crumbled. “W…what?”
“Mister Malfoy is currently on a restricted visitors list. Immediate family only. Which now includes…” She held up the parchment and peered through her bifocals. “His mother and his wife.” She set it back down. “That’s you.”
For a moment, Ginny didn’t breathe.
She had prepared herself for distance. For months of waiting.
“I can… visit?” she finally managed.
“You may submit a request immediately,” the witch replied. “Given the status change, approval should be prompt.”
Ginny’s hand came up to her mouth. She’d been so certain that she wouldn’t see him for more than a year.
“Could I go today?” She asked before the emotion wouldn’t allow her to speak at all.
“If the paperwork is filed at once,” the official said, already reaching for another form, “it is possible.”
“Ginny…” Molly began, approaching her daughter now that the formal hearing had concluded.
Ginny turned, her eyes bright and wild. “I’m going.”
“I never thought they’d let me,” she said. “I thought we’d have to wait until he came home."
Arthur was still processing the outcome of the last fifteen minutes. Married. Official. Visitation.
“Today?”
“They just said I can!” She was barely holding it together. “I didn’t think I’d see him until–I thought it would be so long.”
Molly’s face crumpled. “Ginny, that place is not fit for anyone.”
“And my husband is there!”
The word echoed strangely in the room.
“Not alone.”
“Dad?”
“You’re not going alone,” Molly repeated her husband’s words. “Not to Azkaban. I don’t care who you’ve married!”
Ginny shook her head. “You don’t need to guard me. Not from him.”
“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Arthur huffed a laugh, “because we’re coming anyway.”
Ginny looked back and forth between her parents, frustration rising at an incredible pace until it broke completely and unexpectedly into something else. Relief.
“You don’t have to.” She said, softly.
“We know,” Molly replied.
Arthur turned back toward the desk. “File the request. We’ll wait.”
The official nodded and slid the parchment forward for Ginny’s signature. A few strokes of ink later and it was done.
They stepped out into the corridor together, the door shutting behind them. Arthur paused just as he reached the lifts.
“After we see your... erm... After we see Draco,” he said, as if it had just occurred to him, “let’s see if Lucius is in.”
Ginny stopped. “Dad.”
Arthur pressed the call button. The lift clanked somewhere above.
“I’d rather like to tell him myself,” he said, straightening his sleeves, “that we’re in-laws.”