Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Harry Potter and the Marriage Contracts


by Clell65619 38 reviews

The War is Over, Harry has won. But at what cost? At odds with Dumbledore, estranged from the Weasleys, betrayed by Lupin, Harry tries to carry on for his 7th year.

Category: Harry Potter - Rating: R - Genres: Angst,Romance - Characters: Harry - Warnings: [V] [X] [?] - Published: 2008-02-17 - Updated: 2008-02-25 - 4271 words - Complete

A/N: I don’t own Harry Potter and wouldn’t particularly care to. I would like a rental agreement with option to buy for Hermione Granger. A short term contract with Nyphadora Tonks wouldn’t be turned down. A Long-term agreement with Luna Lovegood would probably be a whole lot of fun. Any time Padma Patil wants to open negotiations, call me and oh for a weekend with Fleur. Oddly Lavender and Padma’s sister (despite being her twin) Parvarti do nothing for me…

Harry Potter and the Marriage Contracts.

- The war is over. The side of the Light has won. Voldemort is well and truly dead. This is a short story of the aftermath when Harry Potter is attempting his first few steps toward independence. Everything in his life so far was focused toward the war. Now that the war is over, Harry is, for the first time focusing on himself.

Chapter One - Survivors

July 30, 1997
Longbottom Manor:

“Harry! Thanks for coming.”

Harry picked himself up from where he fell after exiting the floo and took Neville’s hand.

“I hate floo travel. Happy Birthday Neville. Your message said that you needed to speak to me, what can I do for my best mate?”

“I think it’s more what we can do for each other Harry.” Neville led him to the Sitting Room. This was possibly the most formal room Harry had ever seen. Something about Neville’s manor screamed “BUSINESS” to Harry. Neville gestured Harry into a chair while sitting himself. On a side table by the chair Neville selected for himself were a pile of parchments.

“So, what’s going on Nev?”

“We’re officially adults now Harry.”

“Well, tomorrow for me, but yeah.”

“I got some surprises in the post this morning, and Gran explained what was going on to me. It occurred to me that if I didn’t know, and I grew up with this crap, you wouldn’t have a clue when yours arrives tomorrow.”

“Ok, what are we talking about?”

“These.” Neville gestured at the pile of parchment. “Are proposals from various pureblood and old line families of marriage contracts with their daughters.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was. It’s a pureblood thing dating back to the 1200s. It’s fallen to the wayside for most people, but you and I are heads of Ancient and Noble houses, for us it stills happens.”

“You’re kidding. You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Harry, I got 27 offers. Me. You’re a fucking hero. You are going to be mobbed.”

“I’m not going to accept any of these stupid things.”

“Neither am I. We just have to be careful not to accidentally accept one. And yes, some are them are written so as to trick you. Gran found two in this pile that were.”

“How is Hannah taking all this?”

“She doesn’t know. I suspect she’s going to be pissed when I tell her.” Neville smiled. “I’m hoping she tries to convince me to forget about them. She can be very persuasive.”

The pair shared a laugh.

“Anyone we know?”

“Harry me lad, you wouldn’t believe me. I am evidently quite the catch.”


“Thank you for asking me to spend the night Mrs. Longbottom.”

“It’s always nice to have one of Neville’s friends over. Especially when they want to know about the old ways.” the woman’s eyes sparkled.

“Have you ever considered teaching Mrs. Longbottom? You certainly know your history, and the history professor we have is, well, not the liveliest teacher.”

“I don’t believe I have the temperament to teach Harry.” She smiled, and then the look faded. “I was sorry when Neville told me of your falling out with Dumbledore and the Weasley clan. It had looked like your future happiness was ensured. Why they would treat someone like that I will never understand.” Her expression brightened. “Still, it will be interesting to see how many offers you get given your notoriety.”

“I’m hoping for none.”

“Ha! Harry I got 27.” Neville’s eyes danced with laughter. “I’ll give odds that you bust three figures.”


Neville was wrong. The final count the following morning was 7,234 contracts offering marriage. After Neville’s Grandmother went over the pile some concerned her (she said they didn’t ‘feel right’) she called her brother for help.

Algernon Croaker had been an Unspeakable for most of a century, and had responded to a lot of calls for various mysterious objects. This was his first time inspecting Marriage Contracts. Of the more than seven thousand, nine had portkeys incorporated into them, and seven had compulsion spells integrated into the parchment, those were forwarded to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and four were jokes (all from the Weasley Twins) those were deactivated and given to Harry for the purposes of revenge.

The remaining 7,214 were given to Harry with the instructions that to be on the safe side, he should touch nothing with his bare hands, to sign nothing without Augusta looking at it first, and to have a good time. Harry and Neville settled down to sort through the offers.

The pair put on light cotton gloves and between them, they quickly established four categories of letters.

1. Interesting

2. No.

3. Oh Hell NO!

4. My eyes! They burn!

When Harry opened his 9th letter he suddenly found the need for a fifth category.

5. Uh, no, but my, that is an interesting photo of a surprisingly limber girl, and that photo might look nice in the dorm this year, and how does she get her legs behind her head like that anyway?

Neville was complaining that his contract offers hadn’t contained any interesting photos as he added several pictures to the fifth pile. It took most of the morning to make it through the pile of contracts and destroy all of the oh hell no, and My eyes! They Burn! categories. They found themselves with a large pile of almost 900 photos, 22 contracts in the No category and 19 contracts in the Interesting category.

The Interesting category was composed completely of their classmates. The No category was made up mostly of former class mates and acquaintances.

“I don’t know if I should be laughing or crying over these girls.” Harry said shaking his head. “How much overlap with your list?”

“I don’t know. Let me look.” Neville pickup up the remaining pile. “Pansy Parkinson, check,”

“That one isn’t going to happen.”

“I hear you. The Patils, check only I got one from each, you got an offer of both together.”

“Wait, BOTH of them? At the same time?”

“Yeah, that’s legal under Wizarding law. Daphne Greengrass – I didn’t get anything from her, but you did, AND a photo. Tracey Davis, check. Millicent Bustrode, check.”

“After Lucius was killed, Millie got away from Draco and turned out to be a relatively inoffensive person, but not a chance in hell.”

“Yeah, knows her plants, but about as cuddly as Hagrid’s brother.” Neville shuddered a bit. “You got one from Sue Bones, I didn’t. We both got one from Ginny.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Why would Ginny be offered to either of us?”

“A lot of possibilities Harry, this could have been processed before Riddle fell, or possibly, the head of the Weasley family isn’t aware of your falling out.”

“Arthur was right there.”

“I know Harry, but I believe the head of the Weasley family is Arthur’s Great-uncle Amos, he may be unaware of the problems, or just doesn’t care and is making the offer without any expectation of your accepting.” He shrugged. “Amos Weasley is a contemporary of Dumbledore, who really knows how they think?”

Neville picked up the next contract. “Lavender Brown. I didn’t get one from her. Luna Lovegood, I got one from her, but her father demands a dowry of a breeding trio of Crumple Horned Snorkacks, so I was out of luck. Hmm. You didn’t get the dowry demand… Somehow I feel cheap.”

“Wait, a ‘Breeding Trio’? How could that possibly work? No, never mind I don’t want to know. Life with Lovely Luna would never be boring.”

“True enough. Romilda Vane? You pervert.”

“Is it too late to put that one in the Hell No category?”

“Unfortunately tradition requires that since you know them, you have to personally return rejected offers to the girls in question.”

“Are you telling me that I have to go up to the girls whose families made these offers and personally reject them?”


“So tradition requires I be an arrogant abusive ass?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” Neville smiled. “Just channel your inner Draco. The girls should understand, I mean it’s …”

Before Neville could explain what it was, the hearth flared green “Neville Longbottom?” came a woman’s voice from the floo.

“Yes?” He answered, crossing the room to the fireplace.

“Nev, this is Hannah, could I come through? It’s important.”

“Sure Hannah, come on over.” He stepped closer to the fireplace as the flames flared again and Hannah Abbot came hurtling out, catching her.

“Neville, something horrible has happened. If I’d have known, I’d have stopped it, but my father sent Harry Potter a marriage contract, I need to talk to him, please don’t get angry, I didn’t know anything about it…” it was then she noticed Harry sitting at the table with an ornate piece of parchment in his hand.

“I didn’t know your middle name was Clementine Hannah.”

“Harry?” she was more than a little flustered.

“What’s your take on this prospect Neville?”

“Hannah is an excellent kisser, and can be very affectionate.” Neville said, knowing full well that he would be paying for that later.

Harry nodded. “That’s important. Oh, Hannah? Could you turn around for me?”

“Harry, I swear I didn’t know anything about this” She saw the playful look on Harry‘s face, sighed and slowly turned around.

“Well Nev, any kids would be well fed.”

“Keep me out of this Harry; she’s likely to kill me as it is.”

As Hannah finished her turn, Harry rose from the table and approached the girl. “A most attractive offer Ms Abbott, but I must respectfully decline, as accepting would make Neville angry, and while Dark Lords and Death Eaters aren’t all that bad, an angry Longbottom is scary!”

“Don’t you forget it Mate.”

August 23, 1997
Diagon Alley:

Harry spent the weeks following his 17th birthday finding and politely declining the contracts from the ‘No’ category. He finally found Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, and Alicia Spinnet (the last of the ‘No’ category) together taking lunch at the newly reopened Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor (Mr. Fortescue’s nephew had taken over the business) Not one of them knew of the offer of the contracts, and were more than a little amused at the possibility. Angelina kissed him lightly on the lips and whispered that he ‘wouldn’t survive the ride’, to which Harry had responded, that if he had to die, there couldn’t be many better ways. That got him kissed again.
He presented the laughing girls their respective contracts with as much dignity as he could manage, and paid for their lunches, and then he escorted them to Weasley Wizarding Wheezes where they all worked. Harry wanted to speak with the Twins.

Unfortunately, Fred met him at the door. That didn’t bode well.

“Harry, mate, wanna take a walk to the bank with me?”

“Ron or Ginny?” Harry sighed as he stepped back onto the street and began short walk to Gringotts.

“Ginny’s inside now, Ron should be here anytime now. I’m sorry partner, but this is our busiest time and we really can’t afford the screaming fit that would result if you went in.”

“I understand. I don’t want to start any trouble for you with your family.”

“Harry, George and I know you aren’t the bad guy in this, but… They’re family, you know.”

“I understand Fred, really I do.” Harry sighed again. “I got a marriage contract from the Weasley family offering Ginny.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” For the first time since meeting him Harry had managed to shock Fred Weasley.

“And four from you and George. I didn’t know you clowns cared that much, but I don’t swing that way. I prefer my dates to be concave, front and back.” Fred Weasley’s expression went from shocked to embarrassed. Harry knew the man well enough to know the embarrassment stemmed from being found out before the prank was triggered, not from any moral issue.

“What are you going to do?” asked the slightly saner half of the twins.

“I find I must decline your offer.” From his robes he produced a sheaf of parchments that he presented to the professional prankster. He had timed it just right, and Fred had taken the parchments in his hand just as he crossed Gringotts outer wards.

“Prat. I mean what are you going to do about Ginny?”

“My intentions are honorable, oh scary older brother of the girl whose contract I hold. I will find a way to approach her when she is alone and decline the offer in accordance with tradition.”

“I didn’t mean it like that Harry. We know you wouldn’t take advantage of her, just… Just don’t hurt her ok?”

Harry shook his head sadly. “I don’t think I could.”

August 31, 1997
Ottery St. Catchpole
The Burrow:

Hermione Granger lay staring at the ceiling of Ron Weasley’s room. In the candle light the garish Chudley Orange had mellowed into a deep umber. Her body was still covered with a film of sweat from their love making. Ron’s head was on her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair as he snored away.

How had she gotten to this point? She didn’t understand her attraction to Ron. If she liked something, he hated it. He ridiculed her interests and habits, and she detested his. They had literally nothing in common, other than Harry. And something, she still didn’t know what, had happened between Harry and the Weasleys, and they didn’t even have that.

Her body responded to Ron like it did to no other person she had ever met. He had to but touch her and her nipple got hard and her juices flowed.

Bur he wasn’t Harry. Harry was alone. After all Harry had gone through to save them all, he was alone. Harry needed her, but she needed Ron and… How had she gotten here?

September 1, 1997
Kings Cross Station
Platform 9 ¾:

Harry had entered the train station spot on 10:15. One last trip to Hogwarts and then he could get on with his life. It was as he approached the entrance to Platform 9 ¾ he noticed a group of 5 children with trunks standing near a larger group of adults who were looking a bit confused. Looking closer several of the adults had pieces of parchment written on in green ink, and the children were all clutching what appeared to be tickets.

Harry approached the group. “Good Morning. Going to Hogwarts?”

A look of relief washed across the faces of the children, a tall woman stepped forward from the adults.

“Yes. How did you know?”

“The parchment in your hands, the confused looking between platforms 9 and 10, kids with trunks. You all look the way I did when I came here for my ride first year.”

The Adults relaxed at that. “You’re… What did she call it? Muggle born?”

“No, my parents were both magical, but my Mother was Muggle born. After my parents died, I was sent to live with my Muggle relatives. I’m what is called Muggle raised. My Name is Harry Potter, could I be of assistance?”

September 1, 1997
Hogwarts Express
Last Compartment of the Last Car:

When Harry and his new charges passed though the entrance to Platform 9 ¾ Harry was immediately greeted by the Creevy brothers. After Harry had introduced his charges to the 6th and 5th year, the Creevy’s took a few pictures ~You kids will be able to show everyone you know Harry Potter ~ then helped Harry and the kids get all their luggage on the train.

Once inside the compartment, with all their trunks stowed in the overheads (but not before their school robes were removed and carefully hung out of the way) Harry sat and gestured the five Muggle born to do the same.

“Why are you staying with us, and not going off with your friends?” asked the girl with the red hair in a long ponytail asked.

“Well, Megan… It is Megan, right? Megan Puckle?” The young girl blushed and nodded. “I made some very good friends the very first time I rode this train, the pair of them became my best friends, but last year we had a bit of a falling out. My best male friend doesn’t want to talk to me anymore, and my best female friend is dating him so she can’t spend much time with me without risking her relationship with him. Most of the rest of my close friends are in relationships and use the train ride to be with each other.”

“Are you THE Harry Potter? The one they wrote about in _Dark Lords and Idiots: The Biography of Harry James Potter_?” Asked Stephen Moore, a small boy with glasses, leaning toward the pudgy side.

“Well, I’m ‘A’ Harry Potter, I’m not sure that I’m the definitive Harry Potter. That book was completely unauthorized and what little I could stomach of it was utterly wrong. Rita Skeeter has a lot to answer for, and that book is only part of it. But to answer your question, yes I’m the one who fought and defeated the dark Lord Voldemort. Beyond that I don’t really want to talk about it. “

“But if you’re a hero…” Tom Brisson began.

“I’m not a hero. Don’t believe anyone who tells you I am.” Harry interrupted the Blond boy. “What I did was because Voldemort came after me, and he hurt my friends. I’m a survivor, not a hero.”

“Could you tell us about the Houses?” asked Sophie Marconi asked trying to change the subject.

Before Harry could answer, the train jolted as it started to move and the door slid open. “Good Morning Harry, room for one more?”

Luna Lovegood was framed in the doorway. “Of course Luna, there’s always room for you.” He rose to put Luna’s trunk into the overheads. Luna noticed the looks on the young first year girls faces when he lifted the trunk so effortlessly. She smiled, Harry added to his fan club every year without realizing he was doing it.

“Thank you Harry.” She rose on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “How was your summer?”

“Quiet and uneventful. In short perfect. How was Sweden? Did the hunt go well?”

“Oh yes. Six weeks communing with nature and Daddy. Glorious. We found tracks and spore, but no actual Snorkacks”

“I’m sorry the hunt didn’t pan out Luna.”

“Oh, don’t be Harry. The joy is in the hunting, not in the finding. If Daddy and I ever actually found one, we would probably release it and obliviate each other so that we could begin the hunt again.” Her eyes lost focus for a moment. “In fact the possibility that we have already done this several times exists.”

Harry shook his head and smiled. Pure Luna. The firsties were probably going to be traumatized.

September 1, 1997
Hogwarts School or Witchcraft and Wizardry
Great Hall:

We don't need no education.
We don't need no thought control.
No dark sarcasm in the classroom.
Teacher, leave those kids alone.
Hey, Teacher, leave those kids alone!
All in all it's just another brick in the wall.
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.
We don't need no education.
We don't need no thought control.
No dark sarcasm in the classroom.
Teachers, leave those kids alone.
Hey, Teacher, leave those kids alone!
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.

“Well, that was different.” Harry looked across the table to Hannah. “I wonder who let the Hat listen to Pink Floyd?”

“Yes,” Hannah said suspiciously, while leaning against Neville. “I wonder who could have done that Harry…” She held the frown as long as she could before starting to laugh.

McGonagall and Dumbledore were both staring open mouthed at the Sorting Hat while the various Muggle born and Muggle raised in the Great Hall explained to their classmates why they were laughing so hard. Then Minerva shook the shock off and started the sorting.

The class was the largest since the first war, with 74 firsties to be sorted. Gryffindor got 19 new lions, including Harry’s red haired friend from the train Megan Puckle. Harry made room for her next to him and she sat relieved to at least know someone in her new house.

During the meal, Harry surveyed the table for his other friends. Ron was down on the far end, next to the Head Girl, Hermione, who spotted him looking and smiled sadly. Dean and Seamus were deep into a conversation with Parvarti and Lavender. Megan hit him with a nonstop series of questions that he did his level best to answer.

Finally the meal was done; the golden plates and cutlery vanished from the table. Dumbledore made his final comments, the forbidden forest remained forbidden, Filch’s list of prohibited items had started a second volume, and the students were excused from the hall for their dormitories, the firsties being led off by the fifth year prefects.

Harry looked around the Great Hall. No dark lords, no plots, no reason for Dumbledore to return to his manipulative ways toward Harry. Those were all pluses. No Ron. No Hermione. Those were minuses. Maybe this year was just going to even out. He could take a life that evened out. He looked at his watch. 8pm… Perfect. With any luck, Tonks was where he asked her to be. This should be good.

September 1, 1997
Diagon Alley
The Leaky Caldron:

Nyphadora Tonks sat in the back of the pub wearing the face of a male middle aged wizard she had arrested a few months before. The note had asked her to keep an eye on the Weasley twins tonight, and to make sure she remembered everything for a pensieve memory.

Tonks wasn’t sure what Harry was up to, but she’d do pretty much anything for that kid, his life had been hell, like having a Dark Lord personally putting you up as number one on his ‘to kill’ list wasn’t bad enough, he also had to deal with the crap that Dumbledore, the Weasleys and sadly, even Remus had done to him and his life. That was what had moved her to end it with Remus. She loved the man deeply, and he was the best physical lover she had ever found, but she found that she no longer respected him after the truth about what he had done to Harry came out.

As was their habit on a Monday night, the Twins were taking their dinners in the Leaky Cauldron.; spot on 7:45 they sat down to the House Special. They were far too predictable for her taste, if either of her trainers, Moody or Shacklebolt had ever found her being predictable enough for someone to be able to know where she would eat or what she would have, they would have used the most painful hexes they knew on her.

She sat and watched them while nursing her drink. The clock on the wall started to chime. On the eighth chime, Fred Weasley (being a Metamorphmagus made her very aware of the physical difference in people, she really never understood why people couldn’t tell so called ‘identical twins’ apart, it was so obvious) suddenly stood up, the skin on his face contorting, his hair lengthening and losing it’s red color. His male feature softened into what was possibly the more beautiful woman Tonks had ever seen, his hair was now long enough to reach down his… her back and was a silverish blonde.

Tonk’s was admiring the time delayed hex that allowed Harry to remotely change Fred Weasley into a beautiful woman, when the full force of the most powerful allure she had ever felt hit her full in the face. Every man in the pub was suddenly highly aroused and responding to Fred. It was only after her transfigured body started to respond to Fred’s new form that Tonks realized what Harry had done. He hadn’t changed Fred into a woman; Fred Weasley was now a Veela. A Veela in full rut.

Tonks smiled widely, while changing her body toward a neuter status. What ever the twins had done, Harry had definitely won this round. It was then a mesmerized George reached out and drew his transfigured brother into a kiss.

Harry was going to love this memory.
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