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BeWitched, Body and Soul	By : SiriusWriter Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 5198 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not make any money from this fanfic. I do not own Harry Potter or any part of this world, nor do I own any part of "Pride and Prejudice." Anything you recognize belongs either to Jane Austen or JKR.

Chapter List
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A/N: Thanks so much to those of you who rated/reviewed! I do already have the direction for the story planned, so hopefully it will meet your expectations. It should become obvious who Ginny's Mr. Darcy is around the 5th chapter, but that shouldn't make the story any less interesting (in fact, quite the opposite). I really hope some of the humour I've been trying to write in comes through in this chapter; "Pride and Prejudice" isn't exactly angst. Enjoy!

It was pandemonium in the Great Hall as over a thousand students began shouting, crying, and giggling uncontrollably. Ron looked as though he might be sick, and Hermione was trying desperately to lift Neville off the floor, for it appeared he had fainted at the news. Ginny felt paralyzed amidst the frenzy—she did not believe her ears, and stared open-mouthed at Dumbledore as he tried to regain control over his students. ‘This is a sick joke,’ she told herself. ‘There’s no way. They can’t expect first years to marry! How could they expect any of us to marry?! The oldest of us are barely adults. It has to be a joke, a misunderstanding.’ She thought rapidly, fixing her gaze on Dumbledore, waiting with strangled breath for him to speak again.

“STUDENTS!” Professor McGonagall’s magically maximized voice boomed through the hall, finally forcing silence.

“Thank you, Professor McGonagall,” Dumbledore said, dabbing his silver brow with star-strewn handkerchief. “Please, students allow me to explain, after which time I will be happy to address your numerous concerns. This law will affect not only you, but the vast majority of the wizarding population. Everyone from ages 17 to 75 will be required to wed within the next year—that is, by September the first of next year. Those of you who will come of age before September 1^st are therefore included in this age range, and likewise anyone who turns 76 in the next year shall be excluded.” A collective sigh of relief passed over the first through fifth years, while another bout of shouting broke out amongst the older students.

“How can you expect us to get married this young?”

“What if we’re not in love?”

“How will we finish school?!”

The last question was Hermione’s, who looked crossed between fury and tears as she gripped her Transfiguration book as though it were her last link to life.

“I realize this announcement does not come easily, and will drastically change all of your lives,” Dumbledore said, bowing his head. “The decision was not mine, particularly given its extremely low age requirement. But we must accept this challenge as best we can. Rest assured, you will all be allowed to choose your own spouses, provided that you do so within a year’s time. If, in that time, you have not married, you will be assigned a spouse.”

“And what if we won’t do it?” Shouted a girl at the Slytherin table.

Dumbledore sighed. “Should you refuse, your wand will be snapped in half, and you will be excluded from the magical community forever.” At this, Neville fainted again. Far from fainting, Ginny felt like snapping someone’s head in half. She felt her blood turn to fire in her veins as she dug her nails into the table’s edge, her panic quickly building to unadulterated rage. ‘This is my life,’ she thought, ‘they can’t just take it away from me! How dare they!’ She could practically hear the steam issuing from her ears as she stared murder at the head table. ‘No.’ She thought. ‘No. No. NO!’

She could only half listen as Dumbledore continued, “You will not be expected to produce children, unless you should choose to do so. The aim of this law is to unite wizarding families together against our common enemy, not increase our population in an already dangerous world. In a show of solidarity, Professor McGonagall and I will be wed later this year, as will all of the Hogwarts professors. We feel we cannot impose such a law on our students if we ourselves do not commit to it, even though it is not legally required of some of us. We do this to demonstrate to all of you that you can build a happy life with a good friend. In fact, though I am aware many of you have significant others, you may want to first consider marrying a close friend, for though infatuation may come and go, the love between two friends is eternal. I know you will take on this new challenge with all the heart and grace expected of all Hogwarts students. If any of you have further concerns, I will be available to take questions tomorrow morning before and after breakfast.” With that, he gave a small bow of his head, and resumed his seat.

There were no more cries of rage among the students; it seemed that most of them had been subdued into shocked silence, though Ginny noticed that Parvati and Padma Patil had moved to the same table and sat with their arms around one another, and Hermione was breathing raggedly in an attempt to contain her tears. Ginny felt herself haphazardly suspended between disbelief and rage. As a result, her wrath seemed to congeal in her brain, unable to expel itself into words. In a haze she exited the Great Hall with the rest of the students and climbed up to Gryffindor tower, not bothering to hear what the password was or engage Hermione in her frantic whispering. In an uncharacteristic act of chivalry, Ron had his arm around Hermione, though Ginny thought it may have been more to keep himself from doubling over with sickness again than anything else.

Mechanically, Ginny got herself ready for bed, only half listening to the conversation between her roommates. “Do we have to pick one of the boys in our year?” Asked Sophie, pulling her bundle of brown curls into a knot behind her head, “I mean, I’m not saying some old codger, but maybe just someone a few years older? It might be nice to be with someone who already has a job.” Emma nodded distractedly, the shy Spanish beauty biting her lip as she sat on her four-poster bed with her delicate black eyebrows furrowed.

“I might not do it.” Ginny said from where she laid on her cushy feather bed, not really knowing what had made her speak her thoughts aloud. Her roommates gasped, freezing in their actions.

“Are you tearing the mickey out of us?” Megan was the first one to speak; her narrowed celery green eyes spoke clearly of her disbelief. Ginny merely shrugged. She honestly didn’t know what she would do. Sure, she’d dated, but like Harry, they’d all fizzled out quickly enough. The closest she supposed she’d ever come to love was Dean, but she couldn’t imagine spending her life with him—it had just been a teenage romance, and was by no means strong enough to last.

As though reading her thoughts, Tracey asked, “Would you get back with Dean?”

Ginny let out a shallow laugh before she responded, “Would you get back with Anthony?”

“Touché.”

The girls sat in silence, and Ginny let herself glance over her roommates, pondering their futures. Plenty of men would kill to marry Emma, with her jet black, waist length tresses and petit caramel-colored figure, but Ginny doubted whether or not the girl would be comfortable even with the perfect husband, having barely dated. Tracey was the opposite, and especially after cutting her sleek ebony hair into a chic bob over the summer, the girl oozed sex appeal. Tracey was a tad heavier than the other girls, but it suited her, and she worked her curves mercilessly. She also had a biting tongue to match it; no doubt more than a few of their classmates would express interest. Megan towered above the rest of them at five feet ten inches, her skin so pale it practically glowed under her wavy champagne locks. Next to Ginny, Megan was one of the more athletic girls, and the two often enjoyed one another’s sarcastic quips during Charms. Megan would probably just marry one of her numerous guy friends and hope to be satisfied later on. Sophie was easily the most practical, and would probably do just as she’d described and marry a man a few years older. Ginny was perhaps least close with Sophie, not the least because she occasionally reminded Ginny of Percy.

Ginny turned her gaze to her own face in the mirror across from her bed, contemplating her appearance. She was pretty; it was a fact that she neither gloated over nor fretted about, taking measures to maintain her appearance but never going to the lengths of some of her classmates. Not as pale as Megan, she had a small smattering of freckles across her nose that mimicked the brown in her eyes, and of course the signature Weasley hair, which she had allowed to grow out into long waves over the last year. She was a little short for her age, standing at about five foot four, and guessed she wouldn’t grow much more as she was now eye to eye with her mother. She supposed she was simply proportioned evenly, though her first boyfriend, Michael Corner, had exclaimed more than once over her “wicked rack.” ‘Not that he’d had the privilege,’ she smirked, remembering his face at her refusal (something between a kicked crup puppy and a victim of a particularly powerful Shocking Spell). She’d let Dean get father, for she had liked him quite a bit (and his strong, dexterous fingers didn’t hurt his case either), but she sometimes felt that she’d done that more to get back at Ron for being such an idiot than anything else. Still, she had stopped him at oral, not wanting to admit to herself she was saving her first time for Harry. She rubbed her eyes at that memory; it hadn’t been excruciatingly awkward, as Tracey had reported her first time was. He didn’t make a ridiculous face or finish in one thrust or have some bizarre wand fetish or anything else she’d heard could go wrong the first time. It was just… empty. She remembered laying there, trying with all her might to feel something, but her mind kept being drawn further and further away, and it felt as though she were watching the whole thing from an alien point of view.

Ginny sighed, turning on her stomach as her roommates Nox’d the lights. “You’re not actually going to refuse, right Gin?” Megan whispered to her left.

Ginny thought for a moment, before replying, “No. I may not be able to stop this, but I couldn’t give up what I am.”

Megan nodded, “I know. I overheard a girl at dinner, though, saying she might go abroad. The law’s only being enforced across Europe, after all.” When Ginny remained silent, Megan continued, “I don’t think I could do that, though. It’d mean leaving my family and starting over in a new country. Plus going to a different school for our last year.”

Ginny considered this. She had not thought of leaving the country. She could still come visit her family via the Floo Network whenever she wanted. Would it be worth it? As she puzzled over the matter, she fell into an uncomfortable sleep, resolving to write her father the next day to get his opinion.
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BeWitched, Body and Soul