After the Second Wizarding War depletes the population the Ministry makes a controversial decision to pair off young wizards and witches based on a personality test, which produces couples who'd never think of being with each other. The biggest surprise, both to themselves and those around them, is the know-it-all Muggleborns and the snotty blood supremacist. Even if they are logically compatible, it in no way means that this will be easy.
AN: This story won't be too explicit but be forewarned that there is a rape scene and some sparse bad language. It takes places after the war but most people return to Hogwarts to repeat their final year, and every five chapters there will be a flash forward to give you a scene with the kids.
Chapter I:
This year would be the first time in Hogwarts' history that two year groups would be merged. Because of the chaos of last year it had been decided that exams were cancelled, the school year ended early and all of the year groups would repeat the one they'd just had, meaning there'd be an extra large First Year, although Molly told them it was more like the size Hogwarts classes had been before the last war. There was a whole host of prefects from three year groups and a new head boy and girl, Hermione was glad; it would have been strange to leave Hogwarts without achieving this final step. She wasn't thrilled about her co-worker though. Somehow Malfoy had gotten the job, despite the fact that all he ever seemed to do in class was leer and circulate cruel jibes. Hopefully they could just divide and conquer for most of the year: it had worked yesterday at least. They'd had to meet with McGonagall on the train for a talk, and then give one to the prefects, but afterwards they'd returned to their respective friends and once the train stopped she'd gone ahead to direct the actual First Years (who hadn't been here last year) to the Great Hall whilst he'd waited at the station to ensure no-one was left behind. After the banquet the prefects had escorted the First Years to their common rooms whilst they had gone to their respective ones to hang out with their friends and managed to skip back into their rooms without encountering each other. Maybe she was being harsh, the war had changed everyone, and last time she'd seen him he had refused to give up their identities at Malfoy Manor. Hoisting her bag onto her shoulder Hermione headed for the door to leave their common room, but was blocked by an arm. Slowly following the skinny pasty thing up to its owner, she found that the head boy was staring down his nose at her coldly. She hadn't ever really been this close to him to realise how much taller than her he was, and she struggled to draw herself up higher on her toes so that he didn't have the upper hand. "I got here first, mudblood. And unless you want people to think untoward things, I'd recommend waiting a good five minutes before you follow me out."
She scowled, outraged and yes, alright, a little disappointed that she'd been wrong to briefly, foolishly hope. "Have you never heard the phrase 'ladies first' Malfoy?"
He guffawed, legitimately guffawed, looking as if he might pat her on the head like a delighted owner would it's pet. "Lady!" He chuckled to himself as he left through the portrait. "That's a good one." For a moment Hermione just stood there in a stunned surprise. Then she realised by waiting she was doing what he wanted, so she marched out right after him. He'd disappeared down the corridor though. Good riddance. Fingers crossed that would be their only interaction for the day, preferably the week. Unfortunately although he'd left her presence she just couldn't get him out of her head. She continued cursing him silently the whole walk down to breakfast and once she reached the Great Hall and thudded down next to Harry her complaints became vocal. "He's the most obnoxious, hateful, discriminatory, vulgar heathen I've ever encountered!" She spluttered.
Harry patted her back comfortingly and across from her Ron surmised her thoughts into a beautiful, eloquent statement. "Slimy git."
"Maybe you should complain to McGonagall," Harry suggested naively.
Hermione shook her head. "She's desperate for house unity after the war split us further than ever before." Besides, Malfoy had been acting like this for their whole educational lives, and he hadn't been thrown out because of it yet. Once every table was seated McGonagall surprisingly stood up. "Could sixth and seventh years remain seated after breakfast?" She requested in her familiar Scottish brogue.
It was strange. The head teacher always made a speech on the first day but on the second everyone usually just got on quietly. "What do you think that's about?" Hermione asked the question, hearing it echo around her as everyone else did too. Except her friends. They continued to stuff their faces with sausages and bacon, thrilled to indulge in the incredible Hogwarts food again instead of the vegetarian diet of leaves and berries they'd been living off this time last year. When Hermione looked at them expectantly they both just shrugged. She, however, could multi-task. As she dipped her spoon into her cereal bowl she wondered if it was too much to hope that there had been an administrative error in choosing the head boy. Maybe they were receiving some kind of special privileges for being that much older and more mature. She felt years older after the war. It was strange to be here in this place locked in time. Eventually the younger students cleared out to their first lessons leaving only their two year groups. McGonagall stood up somewhat uncomfortably and addressed them. "The Ministry have a message for you all, which I have unfortunately been tasked to deliver. I apologise in advance." Everyone looked around confusedly, even the ever callous Slytherins seemed nervous.
From their headmistress' wand a patronus in the shape of a lynx formed and greeted them, relaxing Hermione minutely as she recognised the familiar voice. "I'm Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new minister for magic." The creature looked down on them from the dais. "As you are all aware, the Second Wizarding War has once again depleted our ranks and here at the Ministry we have been in talks all summer on how to solve this issue. Your generation is already thin enough as it is and the population was only beginning to rise again when You-Know-Who returned." The Death Eaters' children all looked quite uncomfortable. They'd been pardoned officially- they were children after all, but hearts and minds were harder to win over than the law. "We have come to a difficult decision called, colloquially, the Marriage Law." A chill settled over the room, though confusion was still clouding their brains. "Every two years until the population has reached our quota, Hogwarts sixth and seventh years will take a year to determine their most suited mate, who they will then marry and produce a child with within two years or else sanctions will be imposed." As everything became clearer a few gasps reverberated throughout the Hall but Kingsley's patronus ploughed on. "Any current couples can petition to remain together and will be approved, but please consider carefully before you do this. If you produce a child, divorce will be possible after five years but not encouraged. We heartily apologise for this inconvenience and hope you make the best of this situation. We will be diligent in making sure you are placed with a soulmate." And then the lynx pouffed out of existence leaving them in chaos and McGonagall with pursed lips. Hermione had heard the reluctance in Kingsley's voice, but clearly he'd been outvoted on this. She could understand why he hadn't come here in person. Everyone was reacting differently, but there was quite a lot of anger. If he'd been here he certainly would have had some curses thrown at him, or maybe some fists. The grey haired witch who seemed to have aged since she last spoke cleared her throat and told them that the Ministry wanted to get on with this as quickly as possible so the test would be completed this afternoon and sent off afterwards. They had the whole day off lessons so that couples could discuss whether or not to stay together and to allow everyone to generally take the disturbing development in. As they shakily began to leave, Ginny came over and took the Boy Who Lived's arm. "Harry, could we talk? In private?"
Harry's lightning bolt streaked forehead creased visibly, even beneath his fringe. "About what?" We're staying together, right? I know this moves everything up, but we always wanted to be together in this way in the end." Hermione felt sick as she watched Ginny's face turn paler. She should look away. She should pull Ron away. Cast a privacy charm on Harry and Ginny. Everyone was looking at them like a car crash it was impossible to run away from.
"Kingsley said to be sure, Harry."
"I am sure," her friend protested, ever the romantic. He wanted something just like his parents had, except with a happy ending. He was sure he would get it as the epilogue of his great adventure story. He deserved it.
His girlfriend bit her lip, fidgeting with her hair and looking like a little girl who wanted to go hide under her mother's skirts. "If it's meant to be we'll be paired together."
Harry's eyes narrowed. "A test can't determine love."
"I want to be happy!" Ginny exclaimed, and anyone who hadn't been looking before was now. She lowered her voice a little, but it was too late for that. "I want to be sure."
Harry scoffed. "Good luck with that, Gin." He stormed off, Ron sending a horrified pointed look to his sister before he followed. Hermione squeezed Ginny's shoulder, but knew she had to follow as well. Before she went, she threw "langlock" at Malfoy and his cruel, laughing Slytherin cohort to stick their tongues to the roofs of their mouths, for once not caring if the teachers docked house points from her because of it.