A/N: As promised, a new story. This is a marriage law one, so just a forewarning. I've changed the rating to T because all this does is swear so far.
This story is totally and completely for Rebecca and Aubrey because they're just so awesome.

Chapter 1: The Marriage Law

"Effective immediately following this posting, a Ministry mandated Marriage Law will take effect. The guidelines of this Marriage Law are as follows: Tomorrow afternoon every eligible Pureblood or lesser witch and wizard will report to the Marriage Department of the Ministry for Magic for the Auctioning, wherein every eligible Pureblooded male will have the opportunity to bid for the Half-blood or Muggle witch of their choosing. All proceeds of this auction will go directly to the relief fund to aid the rebuilding of our Magical World. Eligibility applies to all those unmarried witches and wizards ages 18 to 35. A wedding must occur within three months of the auction. If within two years an heir is not produced, the marriage will be considered dissolved. Failure to comply will result in consequences. Thank you all for your support in rebuilding our World."

Hermione cried for hours in the arms of Harry and Ron. They said nothing, only held her as she cried herself to the point of retching and exhaustion. Harry muttered soothing words in her ear and Ron stroked her hair, each of them trying to calm her, make it better, whatever they could do.

Nothing could make this better for her. She faced the stark reality of marrying someone who would more than likely be a complete and total stranger, someone who didn't truly care for her. It was probable that they would only want her for the fame she carried, for her connections to Ron and Harry. She cried for the bleak reality that in less than a day she would belong to someone else. Someone else would literally buy her hand in marriage.

When her owl had dropped the condemning document onto her kitchen table, she had read it with tight lips and shaky hands, barely controlled anger settling deep into her bones. How dare they force people into marriage? Force two people who have nothing in common to have a child together to promote mixed blood? And even worse, to auction people off like they were furniture or livestock? It made her sick and enraged. It took her several moments to realize this also applied to her, and that was when the panic and upset sunk in. She didn't want to get married at her current age of nineteen, let alone married to someone she likely didn't know, whom she knew wouldn't love her. It made her sick.

Harry and Ron had Floo'd in less than ten minutes after everyone in the Wizarding World had received the decree, and knew without having to talk what this meant. Ron had been the first to wrap his strong arms around her, and Harry had followed seconds later. Her obvious choices were out of the question—Harry had married Ginny two weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts and Ron had married Cho Chang less than a month ago. She could feel their frustration as the clung to her. The Golden Trio was helpless to aid each other in this instance. It had always been them against the world, but now it was the world against Hermione, and Ron and Harry could do no good.

Eventually they had moved to the couch and Hermione had sat in between them, leaning heavily on Harry as Ron ran his hand up and down her arm, trying desperately to soothe their best friend. When Hermione had finally cried herself to sleep, eyes puffy and skin blotchy, Ron had gathered her up and put her in bed, pulling the covers over her and shutting the door. He and Harry had sat at her kitchen table in silence, drinking tea they had taken the liberty of making themselves. The clock was their enemy. In a mere twelve hours, someone would bid on Hermione for their wife, and Ron and Harry were powerless to do anything about it. Even Harry's influence in the Ministry couldn't stop this; the Ministry had planned this in complete secret. No one had known this was coming.

"Blimey, mate," Ron said mournfully. Harry nodded and said nothing, green eyes staring unblinkingly past Ron's head at the wall behind him, where there was a framed picture of the three of them. It felt like the world was starting to crumble.

"I feel like shit," Ron said suddenly. Harry looked at him questioningly.

"I could have married her, Harry. We kissed at the battle." Ron's tone was bleak and distant. Harry shook his head.

"It wasn't right, Ron. You weren't right together." Ron slammed his hands down angrily.

"And this is? At least that way she'd be happy! She'll never be happy like this and you and I both know that!" Harry shushed him, looking towards Hermione's door. Ron's blush crept higher up his face, nearing his hairline.

"Whatever happens," Harry continued, "We will be there for her. We have always been there for her. This will be no different." Ron said nothing. He stood up and walked into Hermione's kitchen, digging through the cupboards until he found the Firewhiskey she kept for special occasions. Harry frowned but said nothing as Ron poured them both a shot.

"Whatever happens?" He raised his shot glass to Harry, who stepped forward and took his.

"Whatever happens."

Draco Malfoy saw red: deep, dark, blood red. He couldn't tell if it was from how bloody angry he was or if it was from the multiple lacerations on his hand that had occurred when he had smashed his glass on the mahogany table. How dare the Ministry do this? Force him to marry a Mudblood or a Half-blood. What right did they have to dirty his family's name?

His mother watched with dark amusement as her only son paraded around the room, spewing out nonsense about the destruction of the family name and the mixing of bloodlines. It disturbed her to see that, even after all their family had suffered, he still believed in the lies Lucius had drilled into their life.

Lucius Malfoy was in Azkaban, and would remain there indefinitely. Contrary to what most people had believed, Narcissa Malfoy was happy. Her husband and she had no relationship besides the one they had signed on paper. She had fallen out of love with Lucius after he had rejoined the Dark Lord's forces, and after that she had become more a less a prisoner in her own home. She was subjected weekly to Lucius' terrifying alcohol problems that led to countless nights bleeding on her bathroom floor.

It was Harry Potter's doing that she was not in Azkaban with her husband. He had arrived at her trial and confirmed her help in saving his life; claiming that had it not been for Narcissa, he would undoubtedly be dead and things would be undeniably different. He had also spoken for her son and his forced involvement with Voldemort's group. It was true; Draco had only joined for fear of his and his mother's lives.

Draco had taken Lucius' imprisonment a tad less well than Narcissa had. It had been two years since the end of the war, and Draco was still an angry and prejudiced child. Although she would never admit it, Narcissa was very grateful for this seemingly unfortunate turn of events. This forced marriage to someone Draco deemed lowly would be what he needed to turn the tides on his prejudices and help him become the man that Narcissa had no doubt he could be.

"Filthy Mudbloods!" Draco slammed his fists into the marble fireplace and winced as the pain shot up his arm. Narcissa sighed and smoothed her hair, adjusting herself in her chaise lounge, waiting for her son's tirade to be over. She grimaced as another vase met its untimely demise against the wood paneling on the walls of their drawing room.

"That's enough, Draco," she said sternly. He froze at the mothering tone in her voice and sank to the chair across from her, pulling out his wand to heal the cuts on his hand and then cleaning off the stained skin.

"I am a Malfoy," he sulked, almost childishly, "and they have no right making me do such a despicable thing." Narcissa resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his antics.

"You will do this, Draco, and you will choose wisely." He looked up at her sharply and laughed.

"How do you supposed I choose wisely amongst filth?" he spat, refusing to meet his mother's scrutinizing gaze.

"You will choose someone who will bring back some amount of honor to this family. Do you understand?" Draco stood up and left without answer. He walked into his quarters and slammed the door shut, fully intending to spend his last day as a single man in the way any single man wanted to spend his last days.

He Floo'd himself to Pansy Parkinson's flat and grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her roughly to bed and throwing her down.

"Draco, what the fuck?" she had demanded as she rubbed her wrist.

"We have one night until we're condemned to suffer," he growled, pulling his shirt off, "and I intend to go out with a bang." Pansy made no attempts to stop him after that. She knew he was right. Pansy was less concerned with the marriage doctrine. Her blood prejudices had nearly disappeared overnight as she had sat in the Slytherin dungeons and listened to Hogwarts, a place she had always secretly loved, be torn apart over her. Even so, she let Draco have his way, knowing he was angry and upset.

When they had finished, Draco rolled off her and lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, willing the frustration and anger slip away.

"Thank you, Pans." She frowned. Draco never thanked her for their quick meetings.

"What for?" she felt him shrug.

"Letting me shag you. Being a friend." Pansy sighed and pulled herself up on an elbow to look at his pale face. His brow was creased and his hair was sweaty, but he was still gorgeous.

"You know I enjoy it and Draco," she paused, knowing he didn't like sappiness, "you will always be my friend, regardless of what happens tomorrow afternoon. You know that." Draco kissed her chastely on the cheek. It was the kind of kiss friends gave to each other. They both understood somberly that it was the end of one phase of their relationship, but Draco realized, as he drifted off to sleep, that he didn't really regret this part ending. Pansy had been, and always would be, one of his closest friends.

Pansy lay awake for several hours after that, staring up above her. It would be an outright lie to say she wasn't nervous about tomorrow. She didn't like not knowing what would happen and who would choose her. If she had her way she would have married Draco or Blaise. Both of them were respectable, wealthy bachelors that she was close to and cared about. Now she was being shoved into a fate she had no choice in. Pansy Parkinson wasn't one to argue authority, so as she too fell asleep, she promised herself that she would make the best of whatever came her way, no matter what that fate was.

"You look beautiful, Hermione," Ginny Potter sighed as she pulled out of her friend's embrace. They were standing in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place. Ginny had refused to let Hermione go to the Ministry alone that afternoon, and naturally Harry, Ron and Cho had all agreed with her. It had been decided they would all go together into the Marriage Department to support her. Ron and Harry had barely said two words since she had arrived at nine in the morning for breakfast. She could tell Ron was absolutely fuming and Harry wasn't much better. Cho had tried and failed in vain to get Ron to eat something but he had waved her off and she had stopped, instead turning attention to Hermione and Ginny. Ginny was attacking Hermione's hair with a Muggle straightener, attempting to tame it. Hermione had sat blankly as her hair was yanked around. She had found it impossible to cry anymore, and it had taken three different spells to bring the swelling around her eyes down enough to the point where she looked presentable.

They had finished prepping Hermione at 11:00 and had put her in a green sundress that Ginny had lent her. Hermione looked in the mirror and agreed silently that she did look quite nice. The straightener had managed to flatten out her outrageous curls but not diminish them entirely, and the bit of eye makeup Ginny had added made her eyes look, dare she say, sexy. It definitely made her eyes stand out, at any rate.

"Thank you," Hermione said, speaking the first words she had said all morning. Ginny smiled sadly at her best friend and hugged her again. Hermione looked to Ron and Harry, who stood off to the side. Harry was the first to step forward and pull her into a hug.

"We're still the Golden Trio, 'Mione. Always will be." She fought back the tears that pooled along her lower lashes.

"I know. I love you, Harry. And you, Ron," she added, looking up over Harry's shoulder. One tear slid down his freckled cheek and then he had his arms around her and Harry, and all three of them cried together for a few moments before Ginny cleared her throat and announced the time.

Ginny linked her hand with Harry, who threaded his other hand through Hermione's. She clasped tightly with her free hand to Ron's fingers, and Cho held her hand to Ron's open one. The five of them took a deep breath and apparated into the main hall of the Ministry.

Draco awoke the next morning to an empty bed and heard Pansy's shower running. He called goodbye to her before Flooing back to his house, where he stepped face to face with his less than pleased mother.

"Where were you?" she demanded. Draco pushed past her and up to his bedroom.

"This thing with Pansy has to stop, Draco. I won't allow it anymore." He flipped around and sneered at her.

"It ended last night, mother," he informed her angrily. Narcissa's expression didn't break, but her heart wrenched a bit for her son.

"I'm going with you today," she said softly. Draco's anger broke and he shook his head, walking down the stairs to stand in front of his mother, the only person he had left in the world.

"No, I want to go alone." Narcissa opened her mouth to protest but Draco raised a hand.

"This will be hard enough. Please let me do this." His mother nodded, knowing a lost cause when she saw one.

"I'll make you proud," he muttered quietly, kissing her on the cheek and then bounding up the stairs.

"You already have, Draco," she called softly after him, knowing he couldn't hear. She walked slowly back into her sitting room and summoned her house elf, requesting tea. She settled in with a book and waited to see what would happen. All she wanted for her son was happiness and a chance at a normal life… She wanted nothing more than grandchildren running in her backyard and a daughter-in-law drinking tea with her and to see her son happy like he had been when he was younger. She hadn't seen a genuine smile on those pale lips in years.

Draco looked at his wardrobe and frowned, unsure what to wear. He supposed something nice would probably be a good idea. He was, after all, going to choose his wife. The thought made him shiver slightly. He finally decided on black slacks and a Slytherin green button down. The whole outfit was very Draco. He showered quickly and brushed his teeth, then applying cologne and dressing. He stared at himself in the mirror and sighed, trying to rationalize.

"It's only two years," he reminded himself, knotting his silver tie around his neck. And that was true; it was only two years. He could be out of the entire bloody mess in two years if things went terribly wrong. He smirked at that.

Draco hadn't been in the Ministry since the end of his last trial, and he had subconsciously sworn never to have to go back in, yet here he was, stepping out of a fireplace into the Ministry for Magic. He followed the milling crowd of people into the newest section of the Ministry, trying his best to keep himself out of sight. Even though it had been two years, the youngest Malfoy still drew the attention of people when he went out in public, specifically the press.

Oh Merlin, the press. He hadn't even thought about the field day the press would have with whomever he chose to be the future Mrs. Malfoy. He shook the thought from his mind and looked around for any familiar face. The first person he saw sent relief shooting through him.

"Blaise!" Zabini looked towards the voice and grinned cockily at Draco, shoving his way through the crowd to shake his hand before pulling him into a quick hug.

"Welcome to the Wife Auction," he said jokingly. Draco offered a small smirk to his response and offered a similar greeting. He and Blaise chatted quietly as they filtered into the room and followed the signs directing the pureblooded males to the front row for the bidding. They had about ten minutes before auctions started.

"Do you have anyone in mind?" Blaise asked as the five-minute bell rang. Draco shook his head and stared at the stage.

"Do you?" Blaise offered a similar response and they fell silent, both sets of eyes directing to the clock. They watched as the minutes counted down to seconds, and as the clock rang in the noon hour, the Minister for Magic stepped onto the platform.

"Hello." Shacklebolt's deep bass voice rang through the amplification spell. The crowd hushed quickly.

"Thank you all for coming today and supporting the growth and unity of our world. The bidding will start presently, and will begin in alphabetical order. If you see someone you like, you may raise your wand and light the tip to signal a bid. If you wish to add money to the bid, simply call out your offer. Thank you all, and let the bidding commence." Kingsley stepped off to the side and called the first name.

"Renee Addams." A skinny, mousy looking woman stepped up onto the stage. She was in her thirties and looked downright terrified. Draco and Blaise looked away, unimpressed.

"Renee is 32 years old, half-blood. She works for a bakery in Muggle London. She enjoys playing basketball and reading. The bidding starts at fifty galleons." Draco glanced back and saw twenty or thirty wands rise up in the air. He estimated there were about a hundred people there to bid and maybe fifty more sitting in the stands watching and supporting their friends and family.

Shacklebolt slowly raised the bids until a man won Renee for six hundred galleons. He was a man that looked relatively close to her age and didn't seem like an insane rapist. Maybe this whole bidding thing wouldn't be so bad. Renee definitely didn't look horridly disappointed.

"Allison Batcher." Allison walked trembling onstage. She was slightly overweight and poorly dressed, with long and greasy blond hair.

"Allison is 18 years old, Muggle born. She enjoys to read and write. Bidding starts at fifty galleons." Draco glanced back at the crowd and felt sick. All of the men that raised their wands were at the older end of the range. This was wrong.

Allison broke down in tears on the stage, but stayed standing, jutting her chin out and trying to look strong.

To Draco's secret relief, the bidding was won for three hundred galleons to a man who looked less than five years older than her.

The bidding rolled on through the rest of the B's, and then through the C's. Neither Draco nor Blaise had raised their wands once.

"Angelica Franklin," Kingsley spoke loudly. It had been nearly two hours and the general bidding price for the girls was anywhere from two hundred to eight hundred galleons. Blaise raised an eyebrow at the girl that walked onto the platform. She was petite, with delicate features and dark black hair against tan skin. Draco looked at his friend and paled. This was it.

"Blaise…" Draco's voice trailed off as Shacklebolt spoke.

"Angelica is 19 years old, Muggle born. She enjoys theatre and singing. Bidding starts at fifty galleons." Blaise's wand shot up in the air, but he was not alone. Angelica looked right at Blaise and smiled at him, and that's when Draco recognized her. She had gone to Hogwarts with them… A Hufflepuff if he recalled. There was a pleading note to her smile, which Blaise picked up on.

"One thousand galleons." Blaise's voice reached the Minister for Magic. The hall shushed. This was the first time someone had offered a significant amount of money. All of the wands dropped, leaving Blaise's standing alone.

"Congratulations, Blaise Zabini." Angelica's face flooded with relief and she walked off the stage, to the room where Blaise would go to meet her.

"You knew her, didn't you?" Blaise nodded without looking at Draco.

"You set this up with her?" Blaise nodded again.

"Explain."

"I met her studying at Hogwarts once. She was nice and quiet. We were friends. She owled me last night and asked if I would be okay with it." Draco said nothing, only looked back to the stage. He was now nervous. He had seen at least thirty witches and not one had caught his eye. He had to leave today with what was effectively a fiancée and someone whom his mother would approve of. It also had to be someone who he would reasonably get along with.

He mused through the rest of the F's, and Blaise stayed quiet, knowing interrupting Draco's train of thought was an unwise thing to attempt.

"Next up… Hermione Granger." Draco's head shot up and he paled. Granger? Wasn't she married to Weasley?

"Granger?" Blaise asked, feeling Draco's shock. Draco nodded numbly and watched as Hermione walked proudly on the stage, all of her Gryffindor bravery on display. She held herself straight, smoothed her dress and stood in the center of the platform.

"Hermione is 19 years old, Muggle born. I doubt she needs much introduction," Kingsley chuckled and looked at Hermione. She returned his humored gaze coolly before looking back out to the audience, at the stands. Draco followed her gaze and saw that she was looking Harry, Ginny, Ron Weasley and Cho Chang.

"Ron and Chang?" Blaise mused. Draco said nothing, gripping his wand tightly. Blaise noticed.

"Anyways," Kingsley cleared his throat uncomfortably, trying to calm the crowd. They had begun chattering at Granger's presence. "Hermione likes to read, and graduated head of her class at Hogwarts. Bidding starts at fifty galleons." Nearly all of the wands in the room shot up, and Hermione jumped slightly at the sheer amount of people. Draco swallowed thickly and looked to Blaise, who was staring at his white-knuckle grip.

"Draco, what are you thinking?" he asked his friend, who had turned his attention back to Granger.

"Two hundred galleons!" someone near the back called out. Draco listened as the bids rose higher and higher until they touched ten thousand galleons in less than a minute. Hermione had grown paler and paler as each bid was called out.

"I know what you're thinking," Blaise answered himself as Draco's arm twitched.

"And what do you think?" Draco asked, not really caring. All he could hear was his mother's voice echoing around in his head. Choose someone to bring honor back to the family. Choose someone who will bring the Malfoy's back into good standing.

"I think it's not a terrible idea." Draco looked at him in shock, and they both listened as someone called out twenty thousand galleons.

"She'd keep you on your toes. Your mother would love her," Blaise continued, trying to push Draco into placing a bid. H knew this was it for Draco. Blaise knew that Granger was the best Draco would find here. He needed someone who wouldn't let his ego run free; someone to challenge his intellect; someone to fight the power Draco thought he held. Blaise was no idiot. He knew that Draco thought he was king of the world, and Hermione Granger was the best thing to bring Draco out of his old-fashioned, Lucius-esque ways.

"Do it, Draco." Draco faltered for a moment before shooting his wand up.

"Two-hundred-thousand galleons!" For being so loud, his voice was oddly calm and Draco hardly realized it was his own. A collective gasp rushed across the room, followed by whispers of his name. Hermione looked right at him and, if it was possible, got even whiter. Draco could hardly believe what he had just done.

Every wand in the room dropped, and Kingsley swallowed hard.

"Hermione Granger goes to Draco Malfoy." If someone had dropped a pin in the room, everyone would have heard it. The silence didn't last long, for soon it was filled with the flashing of cameras and shouts from reporters. Kingsley rushed forward and shoved Hermione offstage to avoid the onslaught of paper representatives that were trying to flood the stage.

"MALFOY!" Draco looked towards who called his name and came face to face with Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, both of them looking murderously angry. Ginny Potter was not far behind, looking angrier than her husband and brother.

"What the fuck are you playing at?" Ron demanded, slamming him forward against the wall. Draco shoved him off and tried to side step, but he didn't move fast enough.

Ron Weasley had quite the punch. It was almost as hard as when Hermione had punched him third year.

"Ron no!" Ginny dragged her brother backwards.

"Uh, everyone take a break! Get out!" Kingsley announced, motioning to the guards on the side of the room to usher people out.

"Get the fuck off me, Ginny!" Ron shoved his sister backwards, sending her flying into Harry before he ran at Malfoy again.

This time, Malfoy was faster. He elbowed Weasley in the stomach and then turned to flee towards Blaise, who had been shoved into the escaping crowd, but Potter blocked his way. Malfoy threw a well-aimed punch at Harry, splitting his lip. It was then Draco noticed that his nose felt like it was on fire and there was blood pouring down his shirt.

"ENOUGH." Kingsley's voice boomed across the empty room. Harry and Ron turned their attention to him and both started babbling.

"You can't let this happen, Shacklebolt! Not him!" they both exclaimed at the same time. Kingsley shook his head and raised his hands.

"He bid for her. He gets her. No exceptions. Now you two get home. You have no reason to be here anymore!" Harry and Ron continued their argument with Kingsley and Draco looked up as Blaise walked over to him.

"You alright?" he asked. Draco scowled.

"My nose is broken, you git," he responded sourly.

"Malfoy," Ginny's voice was relatively calm now, and she held her hands in front of her as she approached. Malfoy sneered but didn't move.

"What?" he snapped. Ginny sighed and put her hands on her hips.

"I don't know why you did this, but seeing as now I will be stuck with you for two years, can we at least not start like this? BOYS!" Harry and Ron stopped their arguing and turned to Ginny's commanding presence.

"Would you two shut it and listen?" Harry snapped his mouth shut and Ron looked down.

"We're stuck with this git now and I refuse to have it be like this." Ginny said angrily.

"Ginny, this is Draco fucking Malfoy!" Ron shouted, gesturing helplessly to him. Ginny nodded impatiently.

"I know. And he's now Hermione's future husband. Meaning we'll be seeing quite a bit of him. I don't know why Draco," she enunciated his name, "chose Hermione but he did." Harry was the first to agree with Ginny.

"You're right. This can't happen." Ron gaped at him and Cho stepped forward to lay a comforting hand on Ron's arm. He relaxed under her touch.

"I don't like you, Malfoy," Harry said, putting his arm around Ginny, "But I guess we're stuck with you now." Draco said nothing, but nodded slowly, trying to keep the blood that was pouring from his nose from splashing on anyone.

"If you hurt her, I will deal with you." Harry's voice was very much a threat, to which Ron nodded angrily.

"Look at me, Draco." Draco automatically looked to Ginny, who had her wand out.

"Episkey." Draco yelled as the bones in his nose reset themselves and the blood stopped flowing.

"Scourgify," she added as an afterthought. The blood that was all over his shirt leeched away from it, leaving him crisp and clean looking.

He looked thoughtfully at Potter's wife.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," she smirked. "Now let's go fetch Hermione. Harry, I'll see you at home… And take Ron with you." She motioned for Draco to follow her, leaving a stunned Harry and Ron in her wake.

"Your sister would be an excellent ambassador," Kingsley mused thoughtfully. "She's got quite the attitude." Ron looked at him sourly and then to Harry.

"Well?" he asked. Harry shrugged.

"We go back to my place now and wait, I presume." And that they did.