Waiting to Exhale

A/N: This is a bit of a reaction chapter, a bit of filler if you will. Everything is set up just so and I am glad of it. The next few chapters deal with the matches handed down by the Ministry as well as a few of the main weddings. It is my hope to wrap this story up in 25 chapters but who knows! As always, please R&R

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"Arthur," Molly yelled, her voice verging on shrill, "How could you not warn us about this stupid, Merlin forsaken law! My children are to be shoved around like game pieces AFTER having fought in a war...and we lost Fred. Have we not done enough? Have our children not given enough?" This query was swallowed by a storm of tears.

Arthur Weasley moved to wrap his arms around the portly female, a female that was so distraught that even her magic was out of control as bits of crockery and flowers vases went floating through the air. His large hands soothed, a low voice murmured, until the bits and bobs settled to the ground with a myriad of crashes, thumps, and bangs.

"Sh, Molly m'love. Do you think that this was not argued long and loudly? Do you think that I wanted this? But it is true, we have lost a goodly portion of our population. Without this law, there could be even further issues down the line. Did you not read the story? All unmarried Wizards and Witches up to the age of forty will be bound to comply or leave.  No one is picking on JUST our children."

"Even so, Arthur..."

He hushed her, once more. "There is no, even so, Molly. Our children will comply. There is no choice." 

More tears as the finality in that statement hit home. There was no recourse from the unfairness and there was no way that the law could be avoided, at least not if Molly intended to keep all of her remaining children within Wizarding Britain. 

"This sucks."

Arthur could only agree.

Just outside of Wiltshire, inside a large manor house- another, more cultured woman sat writing a letter to her only son. Elegant fingers held the quill easily, her handwriting beautifully refined. Were there tears? No. The Lady Malfoy did not cry when something could not be changed. She had not cried when the Dark Lord had come to reside within her home, thanks to her stupid husband, so no tears marred her features, now.

Finally, she rolled up the note and called for Hermes, her personal owl, gorgeous and smart. She handed the Tawny Owl her missive and spoke to him as he cocked his head from left to right, awaiting her directive.

"Hermes, take this to Draco at Hogwarts and wait there for a reply, please."

A hoot in return, soft trill, and then he was off, golden brown wings spread to catch the wind. Alas, her correspondence was not yet finished. She still had to write the Greengrasses to break the marriage contract. Due to the reasons behind the voiding of said contract, no monies would be paid out, which, in its own way was a bit of a blessing. The vaults in Gringott's were not empty but neither were they as full as before the war and reparations. Every galleon was more precious as a result.

"Nox?" Another Tawny Owl, eyes bright and focused. "Deliver this to the Greengrasses. No reply is necessary."

Finally, when all was finished, Narcissa  Malfoy arose from behind her desk, located within her sitting room in the East wing and headed down into her garden for tea. Everything was always better with tea. Regardless, her son would see to his duty. The Malfoy line would continue whether the young man was tasked to marry a pure-blood, a half-blood or a muggle born. He would not falter and neither would she.

"Pixie? Tea in the rose garden, please?" The quick crack of Elf apparition greeted her request as the elf in question came into view.

"Yes, Madam. Pixie will serve at once." The elf disappeared just as quickly as she had come, leaving Narcissa to continue her journey, alone...and lonely.

So it went in the various houses across the country as parents shouted and raved, angered and saddened by the turn of events. Letters were written and contracts were broken contingent upon the Ministry's decree. More packages and personal missives were also sent out, flying through the air on the wings of a slew of owls, headed for the young men and women of Hogwarts.  The only young person who would not expect a missive from her own family was Hermione.