Aug 16, 2026 · 43 min · 7 segments
All Charlie wants is to be left alone with his dragons. However, building a one-of-a-kind hatchery to breed and care for endangered whelps costs a pretty galleon. Enter Pansy Parkinson. Event planner…
Happy hunting, Parkinson! Pansy read the article again, for what felt like the dozenth time since the owl had dropped it off six days ago.
But the words still didn't seem real.
The entire article was an absolute farce, one that she'd had no part in.
It was official.
She was finally being sold off like a not-so-prized possession.
Her parents had been busy over the last week, it seemed.
No sooner had they informed their only daughter of her impending nuptials than they leaked it to the Prophet as some kind of celebratory hurrah.
Bloody ridiculous.
She was sure that her mother had been the one to do it, as her father was a weak-willed wizard who let his wife do all the decision-making.
Well, if their plan was to ensure that she couldn't fight it, lest she suffer the backlash of the press, then they'd succeeded.
The article had cast a far-reaching frenzy through society circles of Wizarding London, and beyond.
Dozens of publications had picked up the joyous news with a multitude of articles being written, speculating on everything from her possible suitors to her preferences in the bedroom.
It was a disgusting portrayal of what really was happening behind the scenes, and not a single piece contained a shred of truth, besides the fact that she was indeed soon to be married.
A single tear tracked down her cheek at the thought.
Pansy was well and truly trapped now.
She'd always known this day was coming.
But to watch it play out in front of her felt soul-crushing.
Even more so than letting go of, perhaps, the greatest wizard she'd ever met.
One who worshipped and adored her.
One that made her laugh and then cry from frustration in the same breath.
She wouldn't say that she'd fallen in love with him.
Surely not.
But she had stumbled off the side of the cliff, hurtling headlong into something she had no control over.
It had been a terrifying feeling that she was getting attached, but it was nothing in comparison to severing said attachment.
Happy hunting, Parkinson! Pansy read the article again, for what felt like the dozenth time since the owl had dropped it off six days ago.
But the words still didn't seem real.
The entire article was an absolute farce, one that she'd had no part in.
It was official.
She was finally being sold off like a not-so-prized possession.
Her parents had been busy over the last week, it seemed.
No sooner had they informed their only daughter of her impending nuptials than they leaked it to the Prophet as some kind of celebratory hurrah.
Bloody ridiculous.
She was sure that her mother had been the one to do it, as her father was a weak-willed wizard who let his wife do all the decision-making.
Well, if their plan was to ensure that she couldn't fight it, lest she suffer the backlash of the press, then they'd succeeded.
The article had cast a far-reaching frenzy through society circles of Wizarding London, and beyond.
Dozens of publications had picked up the joyous news with a multitude of articles being written, speculating on everything from her possible suitors to her preferences in the bedroom.
It was a disgusting portrayal of what really was happening behind the scenes, and not a single piece contained a shred of truth, besides the fact that she was indeed soon to be married.
A single tear tracked down her cheek at the thought.
Pansy was well and truly trapped now.
She'd always known this day was coming.
But to watch it play out in front of her felt soul-crushing.
Even more so than letting go of, perhaps, the greatest wizard she'd ever met.
One who worshipped and adored her.
One that made her laugh and then cry from frustration in the same breath.
She wouldn't say that she'd fallen in love with him.
Surely not.
But she had stumbled off the side of the cliff, hurtling headlong into something she had no control over.
It had been a terrifying feeling that she was getting attached, but it was nothing in comparison to severing said attachment.
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