Chapter One:

She was broken, a shell of the brave heroine she had been for the last seven years. The war had ended, she should have been happy, relishing in their victory. She just couldn't bring herself to feel it. Merlin knows she had tried. She had smiled blankly while the Golden Trio had received their Order of Merlins, First Class of course. Ron and Harry stood beside her, blissfully unaware of her discomfort, both had been smiling and waving with joy in their eyes. She hadn't thought less of them for not feeling the same way she did, for having their joy, she still didn't. Harry had earned it; he was finally free of Voldemort, finally free of everything that had held him down for his seventeen years. Ron had finally had his moment in the sun, why wouldn't he be pleased? He was looked at as a hero in his own right; women were fawning over him, reporters begging for his side of their adventurous tale.

Hermione thought for a moment about that fleeting kiss they had shared during the Battle of Hogwarts. She had gotten swept up in the moment, needing to let out some of her pent up nervous energy, and Ron had been there. She had felt strange when it was over, and stranger still when the battle had finally ended and Ron had taken her hand to lead her into the Great Hall. Harry had looked at their clasped hands, and had told them that it was about time. Everyone had expected them to live happily ever after. It hadn't taken long for Ron to realize that the kiss they had shared was their first, and their last. She imagined it was hard at first, but then the media started knocking on his door, women started stopping him in the street, asking for autographs and photos. The kiss had been quickly chalked up to the adrenaline of the battle.

Now she was sitting on the Hogwarts Express in a carriage with Harry, Ron, and Ginny. Ginny and Ron were in the middle of a very heated game of wizards chess, Harry watching with interest, all of them eating their way through a pile of sweets from the trolley. Hermione was sitting in the corner by the door, pretending to read Advanced Potion-Making. All of the students in seventh year had been invited back to school to finish their final year at the castle. Coming back home, that was a start at least to healing herself.

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Draco Malfoy had spent the entirety of his life under the thumb of his father, and it was finally over. He should have been deeply upset about Lucius' death, but he just wasn't. Oh he had given the right show, for a bit at least, the mourning son. Underneath it all however, both himself and his mother were relieved that it was over.

He was no longer made to torture innocents, or look on as others did. He looked down at his forearm, thanking Merlin that he hadn't received the Mark. His mother wouldn't let him, the one thing she put her foot down about in all the years that she had been with Lucius. She had paid dearly for her insolence; Lucius himself had performed the Cruciatus curse. She survived though, and that was what mattered.

The Battle had taken a toll on him though. He remembered back to the Room of Requirement. His only job had been to stall Potter so he couldn't get Ravenclaw's diadem, and he had been doing his job. The blundering idiot fucked it all up when he called the Fiendfyre. Nearly had gotten them all killed, and now he owed Potter a debt, as well as the Weasley and Granger. It was over though, the battle was over, and now he sat in a compartment on the Hogwarts express, waiting until he was back at the only place that ever felt like home.

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"Good evening students," Professor McGonagall was standing at the podium in front of the staff table. "This year is one of celebration and mourning. As you all know, last year a battle was fought in this very castle that decided the fate of the wizarding race. We were victorious!" The hall around her cheered, students banged their goblets on the tables and standing up to cheer, there were even a few Slytherins that went along. Namely one Draco Malfoy, which Hermione found puzzling and odd, but welcome nonetheless. Professor McGonagall started speaking again, and the students returned to their seats to listen once more. "Before I send you off to bed, there are a few things you need to be informed of. I was asked to personally make this announcement, but as I find it absolutely ludicrous in the extreme, the honor," she spoke the last word with a venom on her voice that the students could only relate to how she spoke when they were in the deepest trouble, "goes to Mr. Leopold Wix, Head of the newly formed Department of Magical Procreation at the Ministry of Magic." She held out her arm and a tall man with salt and pepper hair and blue eyes like the ocean stepped forward from the corner of the hall. He was dressed rather handsomely, in charcoal black robes with black trim, with a black suit underneath. You could tell by looking at him that he was a well off wizard. Despite the finery that he was wearing, the expression on his face showed that he was nervous, shooting a quick glance at Professor McGonagall, he gingerly walked up to the podium and began to speak.

"Hello students. As you professor has informed you, my name is Leopold Wix, and I am indeed Head of the Department of Magical Procreation. Many of you, in fact all of you, are probably wondering what that means, please, let me explain. Sense the rise, and subsequent fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the wizarding population here in Britain and Scotland have taken a dramatic decrease. We at the Ministry can only speculate at the cause of course, it could be that families didn't want to bring children into a world of chaos, or that the threat of death and destruction had simply not made it a priority, whatever the cause, the fact remains that we are at risk of dying out. In the wake of this post-Voldemort era, the Ministry had decided to pass a Marriage Law." Mr. Wix paused at this, letting it sink in for the students in front of him, and to give them a moment to collect their thoughts, or protest in vain at what he had said.

"You can't do that!" shouted a girl from Hufflepuff.

"This is bullocks!" shouted another from Gryffindor. McGonagall lifted her hands to silence them, gesturing to Mr. Wix to continue his speech.

"I understand that you are upset, fearful, and apprehensive towards this law. It is however, a law, and one that must be followed. Failure to comply will result in the confiscation of your wand until you decide to adhere to the law. The law itself reads as followed." He paused to retrieve a piece of parchment from inside his robes, unfurl it, and then he began to read. "All unmarried magical persons between the ages of seventeen and thirty will be matched with a witch or wizard based on their chance of producing magical children, their age, as well as their compatibility as people. Each couple will have exactly three months from finding out their future spouse to hold a marriage and binding ceremony, as well as take a fidelity oath. From the point of marriage and binding each couple has eighteen months to produce a child, and must have at least two children by their fourth anniversary." Mr. Wix had rolled the parchment back up and put it back into the pocket of his robes. He then pulled out a small intricate box from another pocket, and placed it on the floor, muttering "Engorgio." The small box suddenly grew to stand as tall as Mr. Wixs' waist. The box was beautiful, dark blue in color, with an ornate pattern of gold, silver and bronze leaf overlay. He tapped the clasp, and it melted away like the casket that held the Tri-Wizard cup. In the boxes place now stood a fountain, looking very similar to a metal bird bath. Just like the box that held it, the fountain was wrought in an intricate pattern of gold, silver, and bronze. Mr. Wix put away his wand, and once again turned to speak to the students. "Before you all retire for the evening, you are to write on a piece of parchment your full name, blood status, age, Hogwarts house, and what you currently plan to pursue when you are done with your studies here at Hogwarts, and drop the parchment into the fountain. Tomorrow evening I will be back to announce your pairs, goodnight." With that he turned and walked out of the Great Hall, and Professor McGonagall resumed her place at the podium.

"I know this is a shock to all of you, and I am here to help you in any way I can. Please remember to write down your information before you leave here. Once you are finished, you are dismissed."

Hermione sat in a state of shock and panic. She had stayed respectfully silent during the speech, and now all she could do was sit there with her mouth agape, staring into nothing. It was Ginny that brought her out of her dazed and confused state. "C'mon Hermione, here's your piece of parchment, just fill it out and then we can go to bed." Her tone was gentle. Hermione nodded her head and turned down to the parchment and quill in front of her. Name: Hermione Granger, Blood Status: Muggle-born, Age: 18, House: Gryffindor, Future Occupation: Unspeakable. There, she was done. Hermione managed to raise herself from her seat on the Gryffindor table bench and walk over to the fountain that was somehow supposed to find them their perfect magical match. 'Absolutely ridiculous' she thought tartly. Hermione turned to walk away from the fountain and knocked into none other than Draco Malfoy. Muttering a quick apology, she bent down to pick up his piece of parchment that had fallen from his hand when he caught her before she completely fell on her face. 'Why did he even do that?' Glancing at it, she saw what he had written. Name: Draco Malfoy, Blood Status: Pureblood, Age: 18, House: Slytherin, Future Occupation: Unspeakable.

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Draco couldn't believe it. With the death of his father he had just barely gotten out of one arranged marriage to a certain Pug faced slag, and now he was being thrown into another one! Logically he understood the reasons, but he was incredulous nonetheless. He had sat at the Slytherin table and listened to Mr. Wix, he knew the reasons why it was necessary, but he had never been able to have a choice in his future. With his father dead, he was supposed to have that freedom. 'I guess I just wasn't meant to have options,' he thought bitterly to himself as he wrote down his information on a piece of parchment. As he stood up to toss it into that infernal fountain, he nearly got plowed over by the Gryffindor Princess herself. Reacting out of instinct, he had let his parchment fall from his hand as he managed to just catch her before she fell to the ground. She had righted herself, muttered an apology as she grabbed his parchment off the floor, hastily handed it back, and walked briskly out the doors of the Great Hall. 'How odd, no nasty comment about keeping my hands to myself, or watching where I was walking, nothing.' Confused, and slightly disappointed that his usual verbal sparring partner didn't seem up to par at the moment, he dropped in his parchment and made his way down to the Slytherin common room.