The Almost Forgotten Marriage Contract of 1763

Blanket Disclaimer: Neither the Harry Potter Universe nor the Marvel Universe belong to me. Everything belongs to their legal owners. I just play around a bit with possibilities. (:

Summary: What would you do when suddenly confronted with a 200+ years old marriage contract by a teen and her lawyer? Run for the hills? Call the nice guys with the white jackets? Certainly not - agree? Well, Tony Stark always was a bit unique.

Warnings for this fic: language, (mentions of) canon-typical violence, allusions to abuse, allusions to suicide, allusions to torture and war, implied scenes of a sexual nature, mentions of non-consensual intercourse (it is a comparison expressed by one of the characters), etc.

Beta: Bloodfox64 (Thank you again for your swift and good work!)

- Chapter 1 -

Tony regarded the slightly scruffy, clearly underfed teenager sitting opposite from him, next to a severe-looking lawyer. The woman in question featured a blank, emotionless face. Both did, but those huge emerald eyes gave her away. So much deadened resignation, desperation and wariness. Not even Rhodey sported a look like that when he was on leave from his tours.

Quick recap: Tony and Pepper (who began working for him two years ago) had been asked to attend a meeting at his lawyer's office in New York, Mendel & Sons. Joseph Mendel III, a rather portly but very professional, competent man, had sounded oddly serious, so they had abandoned anything of importance until further notice, wanting to deal with this potential situation as soon as possible. Only to find the two strange women already seated in the personal office of Mendel.

"Why exactly are we here?" Tony asked after the usual pleasantries were out of the way. He was an ass, but also a businessman. He knew when to reign in his attitude. (If he actually did it, well that was an entirely different cup of tea.) These women, especially the younger one, appeared broken. Very broken.

At his question, the severe lady straightened her spine, summoning whatever strength reserves she had neglected until now. Immediately, Mr. Mendel followed suit. He seemed to feel apologetic, sending a meaningful look towards the younger female, who by all means looked to be fourteen, but then focused on his client. "What I will tell you now is true, important and highly classified," the portly man began, "There is a part of the society which is being kept hidden by the government. A secret society your branch of the family had been a part of until, 235 years ago, when Hieronymus Stark was disowned by his family. He decided to try his luck here in the Americas, as you probably already know. As such you have a legal claim to know what society your ancestors belonged to. This is Miss Ivy-Rose Potter and her lawyer, Mrs. Andromeda Tonks. They both hold a high position in said society (a clear warning directed at Tony) and have approached me in regards to a matter pertaining to Hieronymus."

Pepper pierced the two British women with an assessing gaze. "What society are we speaking of?" Tony noticed the almost imperceptible exchange between the two foreigners.

Then the severe one pinned them with a cool, aloof look of her own. Although her eyes lingered on the billionaire rather than his PA. "When Hieronymus Stark was disowned, he had to take on a new last name. His old family prohibited him or any of his descendants from ever resuming the use of his old name. Unfortunately, in our society such things still matter more than equality rights or justice," Mrs. Tonks started to explain. "After much probing we found you as the last heir of Hieronymus. It has taken a vast amount of time, money and favors to reach this point so please hear us out. We do not ask for you to understand nor expect you to agree to anything, except providing us with a bit of your time and willingness to listen."

Pepper and Mr. Mendel nodded readily, while Tony gazed at them calculatingly. What could his old ancestor have done to either of these two women?

However, Mrs. Tonks continued, skillfully ignoring the frozen girl by her side, "In 1763, the Peverell and Draken families signed a marriage contract for Hieronymus, the firstborn son, and the unborn, hopefully female child of the Peverell line. To give you a better understanding of our society, I will reveal to you what only the President and his most trusted espionage directors know: Magic exists." The Brit held up a hand to stop any protest issued from their side of the table, quite effectively one might want to add. She pushed a thick folder over to the Americans, a slightly gilded parchment on top. As it turned out, that was the original contract. "You have to understand that if there was anyone else, we would not have bothered you. However, you are the last eligible heir, the only one able to -"

For the first time the teen moved, "What Andromeda means to explain is that this is a magically binding contract, effectively engaging the heir of Hieronymus with the first female born to the Peverell line. Unfortunately the only eligible female was already engaged to be married at that point in time - to a Potter. She happened to be four at the time." This information evoked a derisive snort from everyone, except the lawyers. "Either way, our...society is still very much medieval in most aspects concerning life. Patriarchal, archaic and founded on a strict belief of blood-superiority, occasionally intermingled with powerful individuals. Anyone who rebels against the masses, has anything but 'pure' blood or has been born as or turned into anything that is not strictly human, has tough luck," the surprisingly well-spoken teen continued quietly, her accented voice was unexpectedly low pitched, melodious and hypnotic. Tony would have loved to listen to anyone with a voice like that. For hours even.

"Thank you, Ivy. As already stated, our society is very backwards-orientated. There are five loose tiers if you will. The Purebloods, people from long lines of exclusively magical descent, half-bloods, people who have either a non-magical or Muggleborn parent and a magical one and finally Magicals born to non-magical parents. Following that are any Magicals with creature blood, for example werewolves. The Ministry employs the derogatory term 'half-breed', treating these individuals as sub-human. On the lowest tier, magical creatures have been dismissed. Hieronymus Stark was disowned by the age of twelve due to his lack of magical displays. He is the opposite of a Muggleborn - a Squib."

"Someone born to magical parents but without magic?" Pepper guessed.

Andromeda Tonks nodded. "Hieronymus got lucky. If he had been born into my family, they would have killed him. For your information, Ivy is classed as a half-blood, albeit a very powerful one, and heiress to two prestigious, old lines as well as an internationally-renowned celebrity in our...circles."

Tony cocked his head to the side, going along with this scheme. He wasn't one hundred percent sure why they were here after all. "What about you, Mrs. Tonks?"

"I was born a Black, but disowned for marrying a Muggleborn. Most Blacks are notorious pureblood supremacists," the patient woman explained, not even a hint of an inflection to be found in her inherently polite, British voice. "Nonetheless, on with the story. Our...society has been at war recently. Ivy defeated the last Dark Lord twice, this time for good, on May 2nd."

"So you have just ended a war?" Tony asked the teen directly, unable to keep his astonishment hidden. The girl sported dark-auburn hair, emerald eyes with hazel flecks swirled in, huge, battered glasses and could probably manage a convincing Mary Poppins impersonation if they stepped outside.

"Yes. We are obliged to inform you of eight assassination-attempts before May 2nd and three thereafter," Mrs. Tonks coolly told the Americans. "Nonetheless, Ivy persevered. Over the course of the last year, the British Magical government has been controlled by the Dark Lord Voldemort. He is to us what Hitler was to Mundanes in the Forties. The aforementioned wizard decided that to control my client best, she had to marry one of his followers." Here, the Americans turned horrified looks to Ivy who didn't showcase anything but possibly mild annoyance. "Therefore, he signed off on a contract between the Potter and Malfoy Houses, despite the Marriage Law of 1830. It declares the more recent betrothal to be void should prior to the new contract an older one already exist."

Slowly, Tony began to see what they were wanting from him.

"As soon as possible, the Malfoy heir approached my client (during Fred Weasley's funeral, no less) to inform her of this arrangement." Mrs. Tonks seemed quite unimpressed with the man. "Naturally loud protests quickly proclaimed my client to need a husband, cleverly fueled by fear of her turning against them."

The teen snorted again. It was probably the most emotional Tony had seen from her. So far…

"Please, your client won a war against a very evil wizard, probably at great personal risk, to suddenly being turned on?" Pepper asked compassion and anger mixing in her tone.

Mrs. Tonks simply nodded. "Yes. The Marriage Law of 1830 is still valid. Ivy is the last Peverell, as well as Potter alive. She needs to fulfill either contract to retain her magic and/or life." Horrified, the Americans stared at the professional lawyer. "In marriage, my client loses all personal rights. She has to obey her husband, his wishes and ideas. She may not own a personal vault unless given to her by her husband or any of her family's properties, although she inherited them," the cool woman deadpanned. "If her husband abuses her, no one will help. All of her possessions belong to him, as does her body."

"In short, I am to be turned into the perfect Pureblood bride. Posh, brain-dead, utterly dependent, mindlessly popping out heirs until my husband is satisfied. No rights, no protection, nothing," Ivy interrupted, surprisingly enough.

Tony winced sympathetically. This was even worse than anything the 1950's had been. "Why did you come here? I mean, why ask me? I'm sure you have heard some of my reputation."

Ivy's wary eyes fixed on him, lips twisting into a wry smile. "Have you actively sought to belittle, bully and kill me in the last seven years? I would rather die than put up with Malfoy. He is my arch-enemy if you will and one of the nastiest cowards I have ever encountered."

The billionaire knew from the deadened expression in her eyes that she would earnestly kill herself before marrying that Malfoy ass.

"He tried to kill you?" Pepper butted in.

"Yes. Several times, as a matter of fact," the teen confirmed blithely. "However, he will just buy his way out of whatever punishment the court might deign to assign him. His father got away with murder thanks to a flimsy excuse and much gold."

For a moment, silence ensued.

"By law, we are to extensively inform you of Ivy's schooling, upbringing, health, magical abilities, and any ramifications the contract may have," Andromeda continued, after recovering herself. "Which we will. Ivy has proceeded to copy her memories for you in lieu of explaining everything for you. Hopefully you'll agree that is more than sufficient?" Everyone nodded, signaling the Brit that she should get out the Pensive.

"Onto the remaining topics. Ivy is a very powerful witch with minor Metamorphmagus-abilities. Which means that she can change the length of her hair at will, without using a focus. She is able to teleport, as is custom for all teenagers over seventeen, retained the ability to speak to snakes and is very proficient in Defense against the Dark Arts. Her specialty is the Patronus Charm which protects against several unpleasant creatures."

Ivy pulled out her wand from her hair, where it had been kept in her bun, pointing it away from the people present, to perform the spell. Her custom stag appeared, glowing even in the well-lit office. "This is Prongs, my Patronus. He is a solidified version of hope but also a means to send messages. My father could turn into a stag at will, resembling this one closely."

Tony decided to just accept whatever weirdness she would confront them with next.

"This spell is very hard to master, even for fully-trained adults, so it is quite shocking to know Ivy managed it at thirteen," Mrs. Tonks added, a hint of pride entering her voice. "This concludes her schooling, most of her upbringing and provides you with an indicator of her magical abilities."

Ivy fastened her blank mask on again. Fully, this time, leaving nothing to read her emotions from, not even her expressive eyes.

Mrs. Tonks slid another thick file over to them. "This contains a summary of her last check-up, an extensive list of previous injuries and how they were healed as well as any current treatments my client undergoes at the moment."

Tony's eyebrows almost reached his hairline as his eyes flew over the first few pages. "Pep, you can never again complain when I experiment," he declared, trying to alleviate the tension in the room. Because only now the genius realized how humiliating this whole ordeal was for the rather proud teen opposite from him. And that was before he saw the 'summary' which included an extensive note about Ivy's fertility - or rather her chances at conceiving within the first year of marriage. "Can we speak in private?" Tony asked politely. If Pepper shot him an alarmed look no one commented on it.

However, after erecting a magical barrier or whatever this was called, the British lawyer filed out, leaving the others no choice but to follow.

When they were alone, the genius stared concernedly at his fiancé-to-be. "You don't want to marry me and there are probably a lot of good reasons for that particular reaction. I know you don't know me, but if you'd rather die than marry the other guy, I'm certain he's a whole lot worse than me. I've seen how much your friends and family mean to you so I won't refuse. They love you a lot more than you think," the billionaire began a little awkwardly. "I'm usually not very forthcoming with my own secrets but you practically had to bare your soul to me here, so I suppose it's only fair you get to ask whatever the hell you want to."

His potential wife showed a small amount of surprise before a small, genuine smile stretched on her lips. "Thanks," Ivy replied. "Considering you are ten years older than me, this (her hand motioned toward the office) wasn't exactly the reaction I expected. My relatives hate magic and treat me like a second Dobby. I want you to be honest. How do you feel about... spending time with someone that can paralyze, knock out or even kill just uttering two words? Who can fly and is a constant danger magnet?"

It was the most important question she had wanted to ask him.

Also a test, Tony thought. "I don't mind so long as you don't use magic on me without consent. I won't lock you up, starve, beat, or abuse you otherwise. In any case, I'm not exactly living the quiet life. A lot of people are out for my money, so they'll see you as a prime target once we go public. Can you handle that constant threat?"

Ivy nodded. "It's the same for certain magical individuals. I won't use magic on you unless to heal you or if you ask for it."

"Thank you. As fascinating as the idea of magic is, I'm not too comfortable with it right now," the inventor admitted honestly. "If we get hitched, you are free to go or do whatever the hell you want to. Your possessions are yours to keep and manage. I won't interfere with it unless you want me to. Only one thing: no infidelity. I'm not the prime example for great relationships, but - my parents slept around with so many people I sometimes wonder if they really are my parents. Also I want to get to know you better than this as I'm certain there are fail-safes to ensure the contract?"

Sighing, Ivy nodded, an embarrassed blush creeping over her cheeks. "If the marriage is not consummated it can, and probably will, be contested by Malfoy. Since he's a wizard, the Ministry will probably annul it within days."

Tony painfully swallowed the onslaught of cuss words lying on his tongue. "That is so...! You're not even legally allowed to drink here. I feel very much like some dirty gangster forcefully 'defiling' you."

At that she finally smiled fully. "It's okay to call me Ivy. My full name is Ivy-Rose Jamie Potter, Heiress Apparent to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter as well as the Ancient and Noble House of Black. It means once we fulfill the contract, you are the Lord and Head of two very influential families."

Tony noted that she evaded the topic of their wedding night. Her medical file had mentioned her virginity. "Name's Tony. So...I could basically kick out those Malfoys?" If she hadn't been so exhausted, the devious smirk on her face would have looked positively sexy. "That's a yes then. What about your last year at Hogwarts? Can you repeat it or do you need to do anything to graduate?" The genius asked curiously. Hogwarts - despite its dangers - had been a home away from home for his fiancé.

Ivy smiled warmly, picking up on his concern. "I can take my NEWTS in America or at the British Ministry without returning to Hogwarts. I'm not sure if that's such a good idea considering the slander and hero-worshiping. Besides, the memories of the Battle would still be fresh. I can practice at the house and Hermione is a great tutor. She is already up in arms because of this mess."

"What about the Weasleys?"

"Ron will follow suit. He said Hogwarts isn't the same anymore. Maybe a few more from the D.A. Ginny mentioned they were thinking of renaming it."

"What are your plans for the future?"

"I wanted to become an Auror or a Healer, but those two will be barred to me now - because I don't want to deal with the Ministry or St. Mungo's. So, I was thinking of exploring what the States have to offer or become a Defense Mistress. It's what I do best, after all. Even though I won't be allowed to teach, in Britain at least. When I'm twenty-one, the Potter and Black Wizengamot seats can be taken over by me. I elected Andromeda and George as my proxies for now. Maybe then I can try to do something for equality rights, or at least prove I haven't turned Dark. I've also thought about establishing a foundation for magical children that are being abused for their gift. Andromeda has been teaching me the proper Wizarding etiquette for the fucking endless diners and balls in celebration of the defeat of that nose-less bastard, but I think it would help if they knew what world they are suddenly thrust into. It would also work to remove the remaining prejudices against Muggleborn and -raised children..."

Tony grinned. He thought her rambling was kind of adorable. In a weird, lost kitten sort of way. "So you're going to be busy. I am a workaholic. My parents left me a company which I'm the CEO of. I'll spend a lot of time on business trips or in my lab. Can you live with that?"

Ivy nodded. "I'd like to share a meal a day with you if that's possible. Or at least get a call or something when you're gone."

The genius understood. This was her last chance at a family and she was not going to waste it. "I'm not very well versed in family either so we'll have to play it by ear. But calling or eating together won't be a problem."

Consequently, Ivy smiled again. A little of her exhaustion vanished, leaving the teen's natural beauty room to shine through.

"Do you want children?" Tony asked after a beat of silence.

His fiancé blushed endearingly. "Yes," she whispered softly, very embarrassed by the sincere admission. "Not now or anytime soon. Thank Merlin! We don't have to provide an heir within the next ten years. Just sometime...would be nice."

The billionaire sighed. "I'm - not good with children. I've never been one and I can't understand them," he warned her. "No one I know would nominate me for being a dad."

Ivy gave him a compassionate glance. "Tony, I have killed, manipulated, and indirectly tortured people. I've also been killed, tortured and manipulated, for a very large portion of my life. I don't know anything about mothers except for Mrs. Weasley. Do you honestly think someone would sincerely name me 'mother of the year'?"

Well, put like this... "I build weapons," he cautioned her.

Those words elicited nothing more than a shrug. "Every eleven-year-old in my 'world' carries a deadly weapon. Believe me, I don't care about your job but more about the reasons behind your choices. I expect honesty, respect and a little trust, nothing else. I haven't read whatever the tabloids printed on you, because I don't believe 90% of what they printed."

"Only 90%?"

"Sometimes they get lucky," she shrugged blithely.

Tony grinned. "Then we'll get along just fine."

So, this is a bit of a consolation prize until I can post the next chapter of Petal. I hope you like to read the new fic. It's already written in its entirety, so no worries about any further delay. Thank all of you for your generous offer of Beta-ing for me, I really appreciate your support. On this note, special thanks to my new Beta Bloodfox64.

Have a great weekend,
W