A/N: This is going to be fairly fast paced, I think, and smutty as we go on. Obviously I don't own anything familiar from the Wizarding World.

Trigger warnings: breath play, orgasm control, orgasm denial, bondage, spanking, threesome, mentions of child abuse (past), humiliation, degredation… uhh, et al? This is going to be an evolving beast and I'll add additional warnings at the top of chapters.

Introduction:

This story takes place post-war, about five years since the final battle, with slight changes. Lucius Malfoy was not apprehended at the Department of Mysteries and was able to save face and convince the Ministry (largely due to his political influence and post-war donations) that he was never truly on Voldemort's side. Narcissa was killed by Death Eaters on the run a few months after the final battle at Hogwarts for being a traitor. Severus Snape was able to be saved and is the Deputy Headmaster at Hogwarts and teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Olivia Campbell is a Muggleborn witch who grew up in America because her father was a diplomat with the British government. When she received her Hogwarts letter at eleven, the family agreed that it was a better fit than Ilvermorny, and Olivia attended her first six years of education at Hogwarts. She was at school during the same time as the Golden Trio and was in Ravenclaw. However, when Voldemort started to come into more power at the end of sixth year, and after the death of the Headmaster, her parents pulled her out of school and petitioned to have her finish her schooling at Ilvermorny. After the end of the war, Olivia and her parents returned to Britain – her parents for their own career reasons and Olivia because she wanted to join the Ministry of Magic. It took her a few years to get a position, and she is currently the secretary to the Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation.

Chapter One

It was just another Thursday in the Department of International Magical Co-operation, and my head was close to splitting open. Laying my forearms on my desk, I started to gently knock my forehead into them, wishing I could fix our current problem.

My boss, Artemis Wright, had just returned from another failed meeting with representatives from America, Germany, and France. He was trying to entice increased tourism and immigration, particularly of Muggleborns, into the country, but it was a hard sell considering the lingering dark cloud of the Second Wizarding War.

The Ministry of Magic had been doing preliminary research before the war on the declining British wizarding population, and that research had been prioritized after the war due to a mass exodus of Muggleborns and the casualties of the war. The bottom line was that the wizarding population in Britain was in trouble. The fetal and maternal mortality rate in which both parents were Pureblood had increased over 50% in the last twenty years, and squibs were also being produced by Purebloods at a much higher rate than before.

The attempts to attract Muggleborns and half-bloods back into Britain were failing, and had been for the past three years that I'd worked at the Ministry. Everywhere I turned, I heard rumors – that the Ministry would start paying people to move here; that the Ministry would start paying people to have children as long as one of the parents was a half-blood or Muggleborn; and the worst of all – that the Ministry would enact a Marriage Law.

"Olivia?"

I jerked my head up off my arms, a blush creeping across my face. Hermione Granger was standing in the doorway of my office. We had met in the cafeteria one day not long after I had joined the Ministry, and despite being star struck at meeting the Hermione Granger, I had somehow kept hold of my faculties and been able to have a decent conversation with her. About halfway through our chat, Harry Potter himself had come up and sat down, joining us. I went to school with them, but I didn't really think they remembered me; I was in Ravenclaw and definitely kept to myself most days. As a child and young adult I had extremely low self esteem and it was only through determination, and a lot of Muggle self help books, that I had overcome my awkwardness and self loathing. I wasn't a very tall person, standing just over five foot, and I carried extra weight in my thighs, stomach, and breasts. I had long black hair that stopped just above my butt (I was very proud of my hair and I spent a lot of time and money taking care of it), and my eyes were a deep blue. All in all, I wasn't ugly, and as Justin Finch-Fletchly had said during our fourth year, I was pretty – for a chunky girl. My mother continued to enjoy pointing out my physical flaws and my father pointed out my career failings (he had already made so many political connections through internships by the time he was twenty two).

"Have you heard?" Hermione asked, glancing back out into the hallway before closing my door.

"Heard what? About the meeting?" I was well aware of how poorly that meeting had gone. Artemis had stormed into my office and screamed at me about paperwork, that I had already done, and he just didn't see. That's a fair indicator.

"Oh, thank goodness. I thought you'd know. Kingsley just told me. It's awful, isn't it?"

"It's not anything that I wasn't expecting, honestly. I mean we've been trying for three years and we're not any closer to our goal. We've had barely 20 people return, and only 33 applications for residency, 10 of which were rejected."

Hermione gave me a confused look as she sat down in the chair opposite my desk.

"I really thought you'd be more upset about this. You're just as against the Marriage Law as I am."

I sat there, stunned for a moment, blinking at her. "I'm sorry, what are you talking about?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the meeting between Artemis and the representatives from America, Germany, and France. We were proposing the reparations fund to expat Muggleborns." I flipped through the diary where I kept Artemis' schedule and frowned when I saw that the title of the meeting had changed from Reparations Fund – UK, USA, FR, DE to Press/Media for Passage of MM2002-652. That explained why he had decided that he didn't need me to 'take notes'.

"Oh my god." I whispered. "Oh my god, oh my god."

I shoved the panic down as hard as I could, but I wasn't doing a very good job of it.

"What do we do?" I asked quietly, meeting her eyes.

"I… don't know that there's anything we can do. Unless you want to give up being a witch and go back to the Muggle world." Hermione responded, her voice thick.

An image of moving back home with my parents, admitting defeat, flashed through my mind.

"No fucking way that's happening." I muttered as I got to my feet and started to pace. "They know we don't really have that choice any way. We have no Muggle education, no presence in the Muggle world since we were thirteen." I paused and looked over at her. "What if we run?"

Hermione looked shocked. "Run?!" I shushed her quickly, glancing toward my office door. "Run?" she hissed, quieter.

"Yes, run. Are they really going to send Aurors after us? Hunt us down across the world, drag us back, tie us down to hospital beds, and have us be brood mares for Purebloods?" I retorted, running my hands through my hair. "I'm just thinking, Hermione. I'm only twenty-two – I don't want to be married, I don't want to have children yet."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere. I realize that your first instinct is to run when trouble arises, but Britain is my home."

I shut down immediately, dropping my hands from my hair and forcing my face blank. As I became friends with Hermione, and by extension Harry Potter and Ron and Ginny Weasley, the fact that I had left and not fought against Voldemort had been decidedly ignored.

Hermione winced, realizing how harsh her comment had come out. "I didn't mean it like – "

"Of course you didn't." I said, forcing a smile on my face. We both knew it was fake though, because my voice was as hard as a rock cake. I stepped back over to my desk and sat down, shuffling a few pieces of parchment. "Thank you for stopping by and letting me know."

"Ollie…" Hermione said gently, but the glare I gave her made her sigh and stand up. "Alright, be that way." She walked to my office door, and without turning around said, "Just remember that there are Purebloods out there that are like the Weasley's. They're kind and gentle."

I hummed quietly and she left, closing the door behind her. A moment later I grabbed the ink bottle on my desk and threw it against the wall, enjoying the sight of the glass shattering and the ink running down the wall.

The next morning I was sitting at my kitchen table, nursing a sugar and wine hangover, when the daily post owl tapped on the window to deliver the Daily Prophet. I dropped a knuckle in its pouch and gave it a piece of bacon before reading the front page.

Ministry of Magic Passes MM2002-652 – Marriages to Begin in Two Weeks

As of the printing of todays edition of the Daily Prophet, the British Ministry of Magic has passed MM2002-652, enacting the first Marriage Law of its kind. Witches aged seventeen to forty-five and wizards aged seventeen to fifty-five will begin receiving notices of eligibility today, and matching will begin as early as next week. As always, the diligent staff at the Daily Prophet has taken the time to dissect the bill in its entirety and has summarized it for your convenience below.

1. Witches aged seventeen to forty-five and wizards aged seventeen to fifty-five will be eligible

2. Preexisting couples can petition for their partner as long as they meet the requirements

3. Timing

3a. Couples will be required to sign marriage contracts within three days of matching, and marry within thirty days of matching

3b. Couples must produce one child within the first two years of marriage, and a second child by the fifth year

3c. Couples must participate in coitus three times per week, barring the eight weeks post birth

3d. Couples must reside in the same dwelling

4. Failure to comply with MM2002-652 will result in no less than twenty years in Azkaban, and after release, the witch or wizard will have their wand snapped and be exiled

I laid the newspaper down on the table as my stomach did a flip. Perhaps bacon was not the best idea to follow a dinner of ice cream and wine the night before. As I waited for my stomach to settle, another owl tapped on the window, and this time I knew it had to be from the Ministry.

Fighting the urge to retch, I walked slowly over to the window, opened it, and took the letter from the owls leg. It took off immediately as I stared down at the envelope addressed to me. Swallowing the bile in my throat, I opened the envelope and unfolded the letter.

Dear Miss Campbell,

Pursuant to the passage MM2002-652, we hereby inform you that you are eligible for marriage and will be paired with a suitable Pureblood shortly. We have reviewed your medical records from St. Mungos and your coursework from Hogwarts and Ilvermorny, as well as your graduate classes taken via owl with Ulstorm School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and will be placing you with a match based upon that criteria.

This document has been spelled to acknowledge receipt upon opening.

Wishing you the best,

Belinda Harris

Head of the Department of Magical Marriages

I barely made it to the loo before I retched up everything in my stomach.

I sent an owl in to Artemis that I was sick and received a piece of parchment that only said I'm sorry.

With a snort, I tossed the letter into the fire before continuing to shove items into my suitcase. Damn Hermione Granger and the Ministry of Magic to hell – I was running. My relationship with my parents was strained at best, as we only saw one another on Christmas Day, mainly due to the fact that I set boundaries and they didn't like them. I packed only a few changes of clothes, my favorite novels, and some of Loki's food and toys. The black cat was watching me curiously from one of the pillows on my bed.

"Sorry to make you move again, love, but we've got to get out of Britain." I told him with a pat on the head. I glanced around my small, one room flat, making sure I hadn't missed anything vitally important. I had used a few bookcases to wall off a 'bedroom' from the living area, and then the kitchen held a small table with two chairs. A small bathroom was off the living area as well. "I'm running to Gringotts and then we'll have to book a flight. We can't Floo out of the country and I highly doubt I'll get approval for a portkey."

I snickered at the thought. Oh, yes, I'd like a portkey to Switzerland, please – I'm trying to escape the Marriage Law.

I wasn't dead set on going to a specific place, as long as it was out of the country. My plan was to go to Heathrow and get on the first flight out of Britain. After giving Loki a kiss on the head, I pulled on my cloak over my jeans and jumper, and Flooed to the Leaky Cauldron, stepping out into a roar of conversation. The pub was absolutely packed and there was standing room only. As I passed through to the back alley, I could tell that the majority of conversations were surrounding the Marriage Law, and it sent a shiver down my spine to hear that there was actually a lot of support.

I hurried out into Diagon Alley and kept my head down as I rushed toward Gringotts. The Alley was packed as well, newsstands full of the Daily Prophet, the headline screaming out at everyone. I couldn't get away from it. I was distracted by a BANG! outside of Weasley Wizard Wheezes and found myself slamming into a lean, hard body.

"Oh fuck, I'm sorry." I stammered as large, warm hands grasped my upper arms to keep me from falling backward.

"There's no need for such crass language." A deep silky voice said.

"Well it's a good thing I don't give a fuck what you think, Mister –" My mouth went dry and my brain short circuited when I looked up into the steely grey eyes of Lucius Malfoy.

I had seen him frequently at the Ministry, mostly from afar, but I had sat in on meetings that he attended as well. He still had a lot of influence despite the fact that very few believed that he wasn't a real supporter of Voldemort. The man and his son both stayed after the final battle and were unarmed, not to mention that Harry had found a letter in Dumbledore's writing giving testimony that Draco Malfoy had acted under threat of death and harm to his family and should not be held legally responsible for his actions. I had heard Hermione tell the story of the Department of Mysteries and the story of when she, Harry, and Ron were captured and taken to Malfoy Manor. The torture that had ensued at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. I felt that I knew all that I needed to know about Lucius Malfoy.

And he looked as good as always. His soft (I assumed) long, platinum blonde hair was pulled back with a ribbon and he was dressed in lavish black robes. He had them closed against the chilly October air, but I thought I glimpsed a suit underneath. He had his cane in his right hand, pressed against my shoulder. I could smell his cologne – it was spicy and woodsy.

"Malfoy." He said, and at my dumfounded look, he continued. "Mister Malfoy. Not to be presumptuous, but I have seen you at the Ministry. I would think you know my name. You're Wright's secretary – Miss Campbell."

It made my skin crawl that he knew my name and I tried to step back but he tightened his grip on me. I pushed down my panic, glancing around the busy street. No one seemed to be paying us any attention, and I somehow found that hard to believe. Lucius Malfoy, former Death Eater and influential business man, was accosting a young woman in the middle of Diagon Alley and no one was paying any attention? Seriously?

"I would appreciate it if you would let me go, Mister Malfoy." I said quietly, trying to keep my voice steady.

His eyes sparked and a smirk crossed his face.

"Interesting change in attitude, Miss Campbell. You were so fierce beforehand." He lifted his left hand from my shoulder and grasped my chin, causing me to flinch. I mentally kicked myself as his smirk turned into a dark smile.

"If you don't let me go, I'm going to start screaming, and then I'll start hexing, Mister Malfoy, and I don't think that your reputation would appreciate that black mark." I said as I jerked my chin out of his grasp and moved away from him. He let me go this time, his hands moving in front of him to grasp his cane.

"I suppose you have a point. You should be on your way; you looked like you were in a hurry." He bowed slightly, his eyes never leaving mine. "I hope to see you again soon."

I scoffed and took off around him, nearly running towards Gringotts.

"Not bloody fucking likely." I muttered under my breath, trying to get my heart rate under control. With a jolt, I realized that Lucius Malfoy would probably be eligible for the Marriage Law, and I sincerely felt sorry for whatever poor witch drew that short pixie straw.

I stopped at the first goblin I saw and placed my key on the desk. "Hello, I'd like to make a withdrawal. Vault 8235."

The goblin looked at me and then down at a piece of parchment on his desk before ringing a bell.

That's odd. Must be a new procedure. I thought, glancing around.

A few minutes passed and a goblin came over, eyeing me darkly. "Miss Campbell? Please come with me."

I started to follow him when I realized that he wasn't going straight toward the vault, but rather to an office that was off the main atrium.

"Is there a problem?" I asked nervously. I had hoped that there was so much chaos happening at the Ministry that they weren't watching Gringotts, but I soon gathered how naive that was.

"Just a new procedure." The goblin replied as he opened the office door and ushered me in.

There was a wizard sitting at a desk in the office and I, with dread, recognized him as an Auror. I turned to leave and the door slammed in my face.

"Please, take a seat, Miss Campbell."

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

I chanted it over and over in my head as I turned slowly toward the Auror and stepped up to the chair in front of the desk, perching on the edge.

"And what brings you into Gringotts today, Miss Campbell?" The Auror, I think his name was Trevor, stared at me as if he could see inside my soul. Rather belatedly it occurred to me that he could probably see inside my head and was a Legilimens.

"Ah, just needed to make a withdrawal. Time for rent, you know." I said shakily, trying to force out a laugh but it didn't come out right.

"Of course. Well, just so that you are aware, there is currently a cap on withdrawals from Muggleborn accounts. The most you can withdraw today, for another fourteen days, is two hundred galleons. As I'm sure you're aware, that's around 995 British pounds, as the current exchange rate is one galleon to four British pounds." Trevor kept his voice flat and firm the entire time, his eyes boring holes into mine.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

"Oh, well, actually I need a little bit more than that. A bit of a family emergency, you understand." I said, stumbling over my words.

I'm going to Azkaban and Loki will be homeless. This is it.

"Of course I understand. I can provide you with the forms necessary to authorize a larger withdrawal. And as you work at the Ministry, you can just pop by Belinda's office and have her sign off as well as Kingsley's office at the DMLE for him to sign off." Trevor picked up a stack of parchment and handed it out to me, and I reached over and took it, trying, and failing, to keep my hands from trembling.

"So much paperwork!" I said, forcing a laugh out finally. "We're not running out gold, are we?"

"No, Miss Campbell. The Ministry is concerned that those who don't agree with the passage of MM2002-652 will attempt to empty their Gringotts vaults and flee the country without doing their civic duty the British Wizarding World." He narrowed his eyes at me. "Personally I think it would be silly to risk exile and 20 years in Azkaban."

"Yes, well, you're not the one that's going to be shackled to a bed to be bred at a wizards convenience." I snapped, rattled and on edge.

Trevor looked close to hexing me when there was a knock at the door. It opened and in stepped Belinda Harris, Head of the Department of Magical Marriages, Ignatius Yaxley, Minister of Magic, and Lucius fucking Malfoy.

I should've just stayed home and ate ice cream.