Hello, my lovely readers! Sorry for all of the Hiatus, but I've been extremely stressed with my responsibilities, and have only started writing again as a relief from the death of my close friend, Callie. (Always wear your seatbelt properly, don't drive high, and you can wait to smoke.) I apologize for errors in advance, but this is a NaNoWriMo project, and my goal is 20-30 thousand words. Let's see how far I make it!
The peaceful scenery had no effect on the tense atmosphere of the train. Various couples huddled against each other, whispering worries and consolations in anxious tones. The war was officially over, but it's damage was catastrophic and far reaching; more than twenty-five percent of the wizard population had either been killed or rendered incapable of having children. For the first time in centuries, squib births were expected to out number magical ones amongst pureblood couples. Something had to be done to reverse this crisis.
The new Minister of Magic, Kingsy Shacklebolt, had been forced to call upon an ancient and powerful magic, wrought by Merlin himself. It was a spell that could determine a couple's magical compatability. Witches and wizards were now obligated to search for a partner with a compatibility rate of 80% or higher. It instantly ruled out pureblood matches, and those approved were required to produce at least two magical offspring. If a pair didn't pass, they were obligated to break up until the obligatory two children were raised with a suitable partner. Not that it really mattered, though. The person who was most compatible with your magic was supposed to be your soulmate.
That was the reason for the somber, solemn mood. Everyone was panicking at the mere thought of ending their relationships that have endured the war. Many had already been forcibly cut short already.
Hermione couldn't stand to look beside her, and could only stare at the ever tranquil landscape, mocking the nettles in her heart. On one side, Ginny and Harry sat all but intertwined, one an extension of the other. They had been tested and tried already; they had received their 98% compatibility rate.
They were the reason she couldn't look to her other side for comfort. Ron perched as rigid as a board on the edge of his seat. Electric tension flirted between them, charging the air with its sparks. Their hands were inches apart, but neither one could break the ice. She couldn't be certain what was running through his head, but she was sure it was the same thought wrecking havoc on her heart. They had been waiting three weeks for the results of their test. Neville and Luna waited one week. Harry and Ginny waited two days.
Icy terror paralyzed her at the logical conclusion; she was not compatible with Ron, and she would have to meet someone new. Of the people left that she knew, it wasn't possible for one of them to be her soulmate.
The whistle blew. It was finally time to change into school robes. She seized the opportunity to escape, no matter how temporarily. However, while exiting the dressing cart, she ran directly into a warm, muscular chest. His arms instinctively steadied her, pulling her deeper into his embrace.
He smelled like fine old books, sweet mint, and a garden after a rainstorm. His robes were a soft silk, lined with emerald green velvet. Wait, green velvet?"Look who I have here." He chuckled throatily in her ear, warm breath tickling her skin. "Hello, Granger.
Her eyes darted upward, only to find messy platinum blond hair, a crooked smile, and a molten silver gaze. "Hello, Malfoy." Hermione murmured in return. Great, she thought with sarcasm. Just the person I wanted to see.
"It's just Draco." He teased, unwrapping his arms, but still hovering way too close.
"I've got to go." She replied abruptly, attempting to duck around him. Malfoy just rolled his eyes and readjusted.
"What's the hurry?" His eyes glinted with mischief. "Do you have to run back to Weasel already? It's not like you'll be together for much longer, no offense." His minor apology did sound sincere, but it was still like a slap in the face, driving salt deeper into her already raw wounds.
"Sod off, Malfoy." She growled, blinking back tears.
He raised his hands apologetically. "Sorry to hurt your feelings, princess, but you're the brightest witch of our age, and he's just scraping by. There was no way that you two would be a good fit. "
She didn't even respond. Instead, she slammed the door as she stormed out, choking back sobs. Despite her ordeal, she couldn't bring herself to seek comfort from her friends and sat in a nearly-empty Ravenclaw cart instead. Maybe it was because, deep in her heart, she could hear the truth of his words. The train arrived at Hogwarts shortly afterwards. If her friends found anything unusual or concerning about her sudden disappearance, they didn't say anything.
One of the most disturbing after effects of the war was on the carriages. Nothing about them had changed, per se. She had simply gained horrible new insight. Large skelatal horses, or thestrals, hauled each carriage to the front doors of the school. They were disturbing creatures, all blackened bones and leathery wings. Absentmindedly, she wondered how many students could see them now. For the longest time, she had thought the carriages had been enchanted to drive themselves. It was a rather rude shock to see what the invisible force pulling really was.
Nevertheless, she snagged a spot in the girl's carriage, while Ron rode with the boys. Lavender, Ginny, and Luna chatted excitedly about their upcoming weddings. She simply listened, only offering supportive smiles when needed.
Everyone at the Gryffindor table was engaged in a lively competition of "Pick the First-Year." Naturally, it involved examining the line of new students and attempting to pick which house they would be placed in. After playing for several years, it was almost too easy to judge, but there was the occasional surprise. Nothing was really meant by it, other than to pass the time to The headmistress' speech.
When the sorting was over, Professor McGonagall finally addressed the issue on everyone's mind.
"I know that much has happened in the past year, but Hogwart's mission will remain the same; to educate and prepare young people for adult life. With that being said, we do have several issues to work through. Many seventh-years last year either skipped school to fight, or learned next to nothing in the chaos. I feel that it is important to make sure our students are as prepared as they can be, so we are offering students a chance to repeat the year. Instead of residing in the house dormitories, these students will stay in an unused wing of the castle that has been converted for this purpose. Anyone who needs to retake a class in the lower years is more than welcome to get tutoring or repeat the necessary subject.
Finally, there is a major change occurring. A Marraige Law has been put into place. A spell will determine if a relationship is compatible, and all unmarried and fertile magical citizens must marry before age twenty. Each couple is expected to bear two children before age twenty-five, although exceptions will given to older matches. If you are not in your seventh year, I would not worry too much about it. However, we will offer the test to couples aged fifteen and above, if they choose. Now, I've talked enough, so dig in." McGonagall was not nearly as brief as Dumbledore, but thankfully, she could still get to the point.
With the speech's end, the food appeared on the plates. Hermione had long since given up on S.P.E.W. It just seemed that the house elves enjoyed slaving away for no money. For a while, only Dobby would dare clean her room. The rest feared accidental freedom by lumpy socks/sweaters.
She glanced over at Ron again. He still was refusing to talk to her, as if their extended wait was her fault somehow. However, judging by his mouth stuffed full of food, it wouldn't be of much use to talk to him now, anyways.
Sighing, she reluctantly helped herself to a generous portion of food, and caught Malfoy ginning at her from across the hall.
It took exactly one more week before she for the answers she so desperately craved. It had been torture, not knowing. Her fellow Griffindors threw her pitying glances, while the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws just seemed vaguely sorry. The Slytherins, though, did something else entirely. They stared at her expectantly, with slight smiles playing on their features.
What do you want from me? She had wanted scream at them. it wasn't until Professor McGonagall came to break the news that she understood.
"I'm sorry." She had immediately put an arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Your rate was only twenty-five. Two purebloods would have a better chance. I'll tell him also, but you need to seriously consider how you move on from here." She gave her one last squeeze before leaving, presumably to tell Ron.
From across the common room, Malfoy smirked triumphantly, and everything slowly clicked into place. No way in hell. She thought viciously.
Yay! First chapter done, and not nearly as painful as expected. I'll see how often I can update, but I'm going to shoot for every few days. Please be sure to leave a review, telling me what you thought (as they boost my self-esteem and motivation.) Thanks for reading! :)