In which Harry is intimidating, the Ministry is stupid (well, duh), and Malfoy is half along for the ride and half partner in crime. And Harry and Malfoy will NOT be together. Period. End of discussion. Marriage Law fic turned on its head. Pretty cracky. By Ruby.

Our story starts on one of those rare, sunny days, and Harry James Potter was thoroughly unamused.

In fact, one might say that he was absolutely, albeit quietly, furious. And, as his friends could attest to, when Harry Potter is quietly furious—well, things get done. Quickly.

Harry had a fairly short fuse, yes, everyone in Hogwarts—and perhaps in a ten-mile-radius as well—could attest to that. It tended to burn quick and bright, leaving people out of breath and dazed (and occasionally injured) in his wake. When his temper didn't explode and be done with it, however, and simply simmered along the surface—it left anyone within three meters gibbering and terrified at the magic-charged atmosphere. Avada-Kedavra green eyes sparked unusually, and his normal quick cadences softened to a dangerous drawl that demanded one to sit up and pay attention.

"Is there a reason," he said quietly, "that the Ministry has demanded that I marry Draco Malfoy?"

Draco Malfoy himself looked about as unamused as Harry did, sitting in the chair next to his school yard rival.

"Your magical ability, talent as a wizard, and personality were all taken into consideration, Mr. Potter, I assure you," the stooge whimpered.

Harry leaned forward. "I am not a fool, Mr. Weaseltown."

Of course, said stooge focused on the wrong thing. "Weselton. It's Weselton."

"Lemme ask you something, Mr. Weaseltown," Harry said, now deliberately mispronouncing the man's name. "Does this face look like I give two flying fucks about the pronunciation of your last name?"

The man swallowed. "No, Mr. Potter."

Harry showed his teeth in a macabre parody of a grin. "Good. We're on the same page now. Now." Harry propped his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers in the typical thinking pose. "I understand the premise behind the Marriage Law. You want to restore the population that the last two wars—three, if you count Voldemort in the seventies and Voldemort in the nineties as two different wars—have absolutely decimated. It's understandable. Really. However," Harry stressed, and the stooge flinched even more than when he had said Voldemort, "I was raised by Muggles. You may consider me a Muggleborn for this instance in my knowledge of Wizarding biology. Now, in case you are unfamiliar with regular Muggle biology, men are unable to have children with another man. Is there something that I missed in the Little Wizards' Talk that I got from my godfather and then later, my best friend's father? Because, aside from the magical ability and talent, let alone the personality, to my knowledge, Malfoy and I are not able to have children. Period. Is this correct?"

"Potter," Malfoy said. Harry acknowledged him with an impatient hand wave. "Why are you asking a goon this when you have a Pureblood right here?"

"Because for once I'm not pissed off at you, and I intend on terrifying the man out of his wits until he faints," Harry snarled, never looking away from the stooge.

That did it. Malfoy burst into laughter and the stooge fainted all at once.

Harry leaned back, satisfied. "Ah, well, that was fun. Off to the next one."

Malfoy paused in his laughter enough to sputter out, "Wait, what? Next one?"

"I don't like him. I don't even respect him. I'm not exactly pleased with his past choices. And I certainly am not marrying him. Especially not when the goal is little baby wizards and witches."

"M-Mr. Potter—"

"You see, Mr. Stooge," Harry said, interrupting and overriding the official, "that of all the unions that I've seen the Ministry put together, there's only one that I think has a chance at surviving, and that's Seamus Finnegan and Lavender Brown."

Malfoy made a noise of agreement.

"Beyond that, I can guarantee that the majority of these unions will only last as long as one partner makes it look like an accident. Now, besides the magical talent and personality, as well as forgetting about the whole two men thing and how that doesn't produce babies, you still have an ex-Death Eater and the guy who killed Voldemort. May I ask, who the hell thought that this was a good idea?"

The stooge gibbered for a bit.

"Potter," Malfoy said. "I don't like you, and I don't like him, but you're never going to get anything done if you make this one faint, too."

"Au contraire, Malfoy," Harry said, his eyes glittering. "We just keep moving up the line of officials until we find the one who instituted this or even who is heading this. I haven't found someone to file a complaint with, or even someone with a backbone, so I think that I shall…break…this one as well."

The stooge gulped loudly enough to be heard in the hallway.

"That's pretty easy to do, Potter."

"Oh, I know. I've had plenty of practice."

Stooge number five fainted.

"Next!"

"Nonsense, Mr. Potter. I'm certain that you and Mr. Malfoy will be fast friends by the end of the week and life partners in a month."

Harry shut his eyes and took a deep breath. The magic in the room was thick and cloying. Ministry stooge number seven had no idea how close he had come to getting punched.

"Potter?" Ha. Even Malfoy sounded a bit wary.

Harry opened his eyes and loomed over the stooge. "The only thing that Malfoy and I will ever be partners in is hexing you. Now, since you were sadly unable to help us, GET OUT!"

With a sharp hand gesture, Stooge Number Seven went flying out through the window.

Malfoy let out a very inappropriate and slightly nervous laugh.

"Wandless magic, Potter?"

"I try not to do it. I don't have a good handle on it and I tend to be madder than a hornet or desperate when I do use it."

"Merlin, Potter, when was the last time you did it?"

Harry took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "Summer before fifth year. Two Dementors came to my house and hunted me down. I lit up my wand so that I could find it. Before that, summer before third. I blew up my Aunt. Then I broke all the locks standing in my way, and I made my trunk featherlight."

"You blew up your Aunt?"

"Not blew up as in exploded, blew up as in balloon."

"That's even worse!"

"What the hell do you want me to tell you, Malfoy?" Harry snapped. "That I'm terrified of relaxing because I'm afraid I'll blow Britain to kingdom-come? I'm not quite that bad, but rest assured, I can throw you through the window as well, if you wish!"

Satisfyingly, Malfoy blanched slightly. "No, thank you. Onto Ministry goon number eight?"

"Oh, good, it's not just me. I'm been calling them Ministry stooges in my head."

...I didn't write any more of this, but frankly, I'm scared of myself. I was evidently in a) a rather dangerous mood, or b) a rather trollish mood when I wrote this. It was a massive amusement to me, finding this and reading through it, so I figured you guys would love it too. I tried finishing it, but I'm evidently not in that dangerous/trolling mood because it didn't come out at all like this. The next time I'm pissy and coming up with creative and inventive ways of insulting people without ever using a cuss word, I'll finish it. XD

-Ruby

PS-also, yes, that was a Frozen reference that you saw.