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How had Percy ended up as the punchline to a cruel joke? He couldn't believe that clerical error was the answer to that, would mean having to believe that someone in his own office had screwed up. Part of him had originally thought that it was in fact a joke by one of his co-workers, but when Marcus Flint had turned up at his flat with a letter that was almost identical to his, he realised that this was in fact reality. Somehow he had ended up betrothed to the ex-Slytherin and whether he liked it or not, the engagement was binding, thanks to the law that he had helped to pass. The original thinking behind the ministry's new idea was to pair pureblood supremacists with muggleborns, but somehow Percy's name had been entered into the list.
At first, Percy had tried to protest the law, but Kingsley had pulled him into his office and threatened to have him fired if he didn't go ahead with the marriage. He couldn't have a member of his own team contesting the new law, after all. Percy had thought about quitting, just so that he could get out of the contract, but it had been pointed out to him more than once that he had worked far too hard to just throw it all away because he was being forced to marry someone he didn't even like.
They didn't have long to plan a wedding, which suited Percy well. He'd never wanted a big wedding in the first place and a short engagement meant that his mother didn't have time to do anything over the top that might have drawn attention to his latest predicament. But it did mean that Percy was getting married in the place that he worked, which although convenient, felt incredibly wrong considering everything.
He was in his office now, leaning against his desk and staring out of the window at the streets of London and the unsuspecting muggles that always seemed to be wandering the streets. He wanted to be like them, to be carefree and unaware of the world that had almost imploded just a few years ago. He let out a sigh before he jumped at the knock on his office door. He'd been so lost in his thoughts and wallowing in his own self pity that he hadn't expected anyone to come and check on him, not when he had told his family not to even bother coming and he didn't really have any friends that would have wanted to attend his 'big day'.
The door opened before he managed to form a verbal response to the knock and he couldn't hide the small smile that appeared on his lips when he saw George standing there.
"I thought you could use a best man." His brother said with a soft smile as Percy crossed the small space between them.
"Yeah, thanks." Percy tried to return the smile before he added, "I didn't think you'd come."
George's smile was soon replaced with a slight frown. "We all came, Perce. We might not be the biggest fans of this law or of Flint, but we're still going to support you."
Percy gave his brother a quick hug before he straightened out his suit jacket. "I guess I better go get this over with, huh?" He knew that it was too late to back out now so he thought he might as well make it quick.
The ceremony was quick, perhaps too quick. Percy felt sick the entire time and it was honestly a miracle when he didn’t vomit, but he wasn’t going to question it. He had to have some sort of good luck at some point, right? If that only came in the form of him not spewing all over his new husband, then so be it.
They had a small reception because his mother had insisted that they all go back to the Burrow. Marcus was silent the entire time. Percy couldn’t blame him for that. His family could be a lot , and he had known them all for twenty-odd years.
Part of Percy wanted to be sympathetic towards Marcus, but at the same time, he found that he was more than a little annoyed that the man hadn’t contested the engagement in the first place. After all, what could a pureblood possibly have to gain from marrying a blood traitor? He supposed that the easiest way to find the answer to this question would be to actually talk to Marcus. That was not something that he had dared to do yet. He had to admit that he was a little afraid of the answer.
The problem was, now they were married, they had to live together. This meant that there was no more hiding from his new husband so when they got home to their new flat, Percy didn’t exactly know how to act, but Marcus finally broke his silence.
“You weren’t exactly my idea of a spouse.” He muttered as he sat down on one of the barstools, his eyes fixed on Percy.
“Yeah, well, the feeling’s mutual. But here we are, shackled together just like they want.” Percy said with a sigh as he poured them both a glass of whiskey and slid Marcus’ across the kitchen island. “I gotta ask, why’d you go through with it?”
Marcus blinked at him for several moments, seemingly trying to form an appropriate answer. It was no secret that the man wasn’t good with words.
“Do you know what happens to people like me who fight it?” His answer came in the form of a question that Percy could only answer with a shake of his head. He was on the other side, after all. It had always been difficult for him to see things from anyone else’s perspective.
“In this day and age, we become pariahs. That’s no way to live.”
Marcus’ words resounded around Percy’s head. He’d never thought of it like that.