It was a Tuesday. Looking back on it, that should have been the first indication that things were about to go wrong.

The Bad Luck I seemed to have first struck when I was aboard the Ministry lift, when a random low-level worker stumbled inside and crashed into me, sending both of us to the ground. A year ago, that would have led him to suffer a crucio in the face, for such blatant disrespect. Alas, the times had changed.

So, I reluctantly accepted the apology he reluctantly gave, and we stood at opposite corners waiting for our level to arrive.

But I was stubborn in my good mood, not wanting to ruin it because of such trivial matters. And Luck was, it seemed, even more stubborn.

So it was that I reached the Wizengamot Chambers after suffering through two different coffees being splashed on my finest robes. The scourgify is a very useful charm, but it was the principle of the thing.

The Chief Warlock was late, as usual. The scum had elected a Muggle-loving fool to the position after the Dark Lord's downfall, and he insisted on using their primitive ways of traveling to get to the Ministry. Who could deny the usefulness of the Floo? But no, he had to do these things which had exactly the opposite effect, annoying the hell out of those of us who got there early, as a Wizard or Witch should.

The slugs would elect a slug as their leader, it was the natural order of things. Pity the slugs were in the majority.

(And she studiously ignored a tiny part of her mind which said, and what does that tell you of the Death Eaters? The ones who took the Dark Lord as their leader?)

She was quite annoyed, though none of it showed on her face. She was a Slytherin for a reason, she knew how to control her emotions, unlike those Gryffindors who wore their emotions on their sleeve.

When he finally arrived, he stood upon his dais and said, "Welcome to the 479th meeting of the Wizengamot! I am Michael Allan, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and..."

But she ignored him. He wasn't worth her attention. If they would have allowed the Members to send a representative, she wouldn't have been here more than once, and that would just be a visit to appoint a representative. But a seat on this body was much too valuable to lose for some boredom. So she attended each one of them, even if she didn't have much capacity to suffer the fools.

But it seemed that her Bad Luck was just starting to rear its ugly head, as a bushy brown hair stood among the sea of plum, and said with much the same annoying tone that had grated on the nerves of most of her year-mates in Hogwarts.

Granger.

Or more specifically, Head of the Post War Acclimatization Department, set up for getting things as 'Pro-Muggle' as possible, while blaming the War as the cause for the changes.

"The premium Arithmamcers in my department have identified a problem in the Wizarding Britain which may very well destroy this society. I am talking of the low birth-rates of Magical children since Grindelwald's Era. By our best estimates, this society will dwindle into nothingness in around 200 years. Drastic measures must be taken to prevent this.

"I implore you to consider the problem and its possible consequences before you deny the solution I bring before you. It goes against every Muggle moral concept I know, but this is not the time to dawdle. Our children's futures may very well depend on what you decide today. The research we have conducted has been supplied to you in a brief and easy-to-read booklet on the right of your chair. Please take a few minutes to read it before you take this as some sort of hoax."

How could anyone not take notice?

I looked across my colleagues; some reading with an intensity, others turning the pages reluctantly, though not understanding a thing that had been written. The Darker ones were the most obstinate, refusing to so much as touch the book. Oh well, stupidity was never confined to the Muggles, even though it seemed to be so.

For my part, I had known about this problem for some time now, no secret ever stays inside the walls of the Ministry. I had already redone all the calculations, and had reached the same results. We were dying. I knew it already.

That was one of the reasons our alliance in the Wizengamot had only put up a token resistance when the Pro-Muggles created the government. They did get the job done. And, though I am reluctant to admit it, they were doing a far better job than the governments in the past half a millenium, if the history books were to be believed.

But I still turned the booklet to the last few pages, where the suggestions were usually written. What I found was so shocking, I couldn't even control the emotion from coloring my face.

What she, and by extension her department, were suggesting was nothing short of madness.

I really, really, needed to put a stop to it.

"But surely you jest, Granger?" I asked, knowing that she was deathly serious; as she always was, the prude. "You cannot really make us do this, can you?"

After hearing my response, many others turned the pages in a hurry, to see what had startled me so. I rarely talked to anyone, ever. So it was perhaps shocking for more than a few that I even had the ability to speak.

And I could see it in their eyes, the moment they read the suggestions. The eyes widening in shock, the mouth hanging open in denial, and the eyebrows reaching the hairline in appreciation of the sheer propensity and bravery required to even suggest such an idea.

One or two weaker willed ones went ahead and fainted. Thank god for the ennervate charm, as such laws couldn't be passed without the full attendance of the Wizengamot.

But Granger was stone-faced through it all, even though to a Slytherin of any capacity she was an open book. At least her attempt was very good, given this was one her first forays in politics.

"I am completely serious, and more than a little worried about the Wizarding World," was her unnecessary response.

"But," one of the Members ventured onward, "You cannot expect us to really agree to this! Preposterous, is what it is! You suggest we go around marrying our precious children to Muggles!?" The last word came out strangled, like the final breath of a dying animal.

"Yes," was her calm response, a sharp contrast to what was happening around her in the 'Mot.

"We really need more magic users, for our society to survive. And short of breeding through other species like goblins or centaurs, this was the best our team could come up with. Do you really think we would have suggested this if we had any other choice?" She asked, and I could see the fight going out of the Member.

"But my daughter is already in love with another Wizard, would you truly break their relationship? Both of them would be so very devastated..." An older Lady exclaimed at first, then became more subdued as she completed, the voice barely above a whisper at the last word.

Ah, the classic tactic of making it emotional. Let's see how she takes it.

"And I completely understand your point, Madam, but this is above you or me or your daughter, we are talking about the survival of our society."

"But they are Muggles! We have a whole bloody Statute to keep the worlds separate. You do realize that this move would significantly increase the chances of us being discovered by them, yes?"

Went unmentioned was what kind of devastation would ensue if the world at large knew that we had magic. We would be hunted down, every last one of us, to either ask or demand that their wishes be fulfilled. That was to say nothing of what kind of weapons they had, and what irreparable damage could be done to a Witch or Wizard by said weapons.

As I contain none of the false modesty people try to show nowadays, I readily acknowledge that I am somewhat of an expert of Muggles among my family and friends. Even after being a Pureblood Slytherin, I know that such things as unclear bombs exist, and I know what kind of devastation they can bring. Though it is anyone's guess why they named it unclear of all things, perhaps they themselves don't understand it completely...

And this is one of the reasons I think they are particularly dumb. Making such kinds of artifacts, and making their existence public knowledge.

"You also need to consider," continued Granger, seemingly unaware the deathly silence the previous statement had brought, "that there won't be any of us left for them to discover if we continue as we previously have."

There was silence in the Chamber for a few minutes.

Then the Chief Warlock stood, and perhaps for the first time anyone had seen such seriousness on his face. "I recommend we take a 45 minute lunch break to digest the information and reach our conclusion. But this is a very serious matter, and no communication or person will be allowed to leave the premises for any reason short of a medical emergency which our Ministry Healers can't treat. Any who still go will rescind their Seat in doing so. We need to make a decision, not our pockets or our family."

And no one, not one of us, disagreed with him.

It was a bloody Tuesday; I really should have come prepared.

The idea is that instead of Muggleborns having to marry Purebloods, everyone has to marry Muggles. I set out to write the Obligatory Marriage Law Fic, all the while thinking what new idea I could add, which I hadn't seen before. And voila.

It will take me a long time to come back to this, but here is a hopefully interesting start.

Lectio Beatus!