Disclaimer: Don't own anything.
January 1, 2000
Minerva McGonagall was not at all pleased, in fact she was appalled. It was quite ridiculous. Quite ridiculous, indeed and yet, there was nothing to be done about it. No amount of grief from anybody, including her would change it.
With a heavy sigh, the aging woman rose from her desk and took a sturdy stance at the floor length window that accompanied her office. The first day of a new age was drawing to a close with rapidly dying sunlight and, though the one chapter they so wished to end had gone with the nineties, a major disaster was seemingly unfolding right under her nose once more.
"Oh Dumbledore." She whispered, turning to face his slumbering portrait. She missed him impossibly so. "What are we to do? You wouldn't have let this happen, old man, would you have?"
"It's completely mad so I don't doubt he would have!"
Minerva flinched violently at the sudden interruption.
"For heaven's sake, Poppy!" She shrieked, clutching her chest. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"
The old matron stood, looking a trifle more than irate, in Minerva's doorway. If there was one thing Pomfrey was good at, it was a tirade, and this, Minerva felt, was surely going to be a five-star event. Poppy ignored the reproach and hurtled forward, furiously waving a crumpled piece of parchment.
"Have you see this?"
Minerva took the parchment, placing her glasses on the brim of her nose. It was a letter, adorned with the Ministry seal and addressed to Severus Snape so she pursed her lips and felt the need to read no further.
"Yes." She sniffed. "I have, indeed."
Poppy gaped, mouth opening and closing at random intervals. "Well- well, are you going to tell me what it means or not?"
McGonagall threw a hard look, drifting back to her seat. "You can read, I'm sure."
That was bit harsh, now. She pinched her forehead, annoyed at her own rudeness. It wasn't Poppy's fault that this was happening but she certainly was not improving the situation by acting like a complete dimwit.
"It means what it says, I'm afraid."
"But they aren't serious. They simply can not be serious!" There was a certain desperate panic in her voice. "Surely not Severus! Surely not! I'll admit, he's a proud fellow, yes, but not after all he's done for us. It's not fair!"
McGonagall quirked an eyebrow as if to ask 'really?' but motioned for Pomfrey to sit anyway. "As much as you or I would like it he's not above the law, war or no war." She admonished, sending a steaming teacup her way. "But, you've got it just about right."
"And Granger!" She positively screeched. "Granger? Really? The poor girl!"
Minerva made a small sound of dismay. Poppy had certainly hit a nerve there. It was silly how protective Minerva still felt over the girl, rather, woman now, despite the fact that it had been over a year since they'd actually even seen each other. Poppy was right, it really wasn't fair, not that she'd ever say that aloud.
"I agree, it seems rather an ill joke." To that she would willingly admit. "But, then again, the Minister swears it's a random match."
"Random match, my eye! He hasn't got a shred of sense in that little head of his, has he? A law created to 'reduce prejudice,' that will only be the cause of more it. The thought!"
Minerva averted her eyes to the teacup in her hands. Poppy had a point, no doubt. Severus had always been rather rude to Hermione as a student, how was she to think he would behave differently in any other respect. She was quite sure they both resented each other. Severely.
"He's doing nothing but playing with people's lives, the bloody Minister is!"
Minerva grimaced once more. "Well now, it's not a completely horrid idea if one thinks about it. We certainly don't want another war, do we? And differences of blood have always been a, well, determining factor. Now I'm not condoning it," she said, quickly holding up a hand to stop Poppy who was clearly ready to burst with frustration, "but it has happened so you might as well start trying to look at the bright side."
Pomfrey continued to scowl.
"Hermione Granger and Severus Snape must marry. That's the end of it, Poppy."
The odds had been against them, that was for sure. Since the announcement of the unlikely law, the young couple had furiously attempted to get a marriage license, rather, to take themselves off the roster but unfortunately were very unsuccessful. The Ministry had made that little piece of parchment nearly impossible to get and while others had jeered, insisting that the legislation would absolutely never go into place, Hermione and Ron not once doubted that it would. They had seen war just like the Minister had and although, it seemed so very wrong to randomly arranging the marriages of hundreds, they knew why he had insisted upon it.
Their only hope was last night, when confirmed that assignments had been sent out, that they would somehow end up with each other's name.
Obviously that hadn't happened.
In all respects, the Weasley family had gotten extremely lucky. No envelope arrived for Ron meaning that he would not be, in fact, getting married. Somehow, Ginny and Harry managed to wed the previous week. George was found unfit for a bride due to his persistent psychological turmoil, Charlie lived in Romania still, and Percy, having some connections at the Ministry, wound up with his long time girlfriend, Penelope.
That left Hermione who, though not a Weasley herself, had taken up residence at The Burrow after the war. The name on her letter produced so much of a shock that she had fallen to the floor, right there in the middle of the sitting room.
Mrs. Weasley was outraged. Her face matched the color of her hair as she ranted on about it for the remainder of the day, bouts of sobbing being the only break in her continual rampage. There was nothing anyone could say to console either of them.
Hermione and Snape, what a pair.
A Ministry Official showed up at the burrow at a quarter to five. She was middle-aged, too old to have gotten an assignment, Hermione envied her. She stood in the corner unobtrusively next to Hermione's suddenly ominous packed bags.
"We could do it, 'Mione. We could run."
Hermione's eyes flashed to the woman. Her face betrayed her uniform. She was looking quite stricken, heart broken even, as if she didn't think this were a very good idea at all either.
"No. No, we couldn't." She answered resolutely.
Admittedly, it was a thought that had crossed her mind once or twice in the past few hours but logically she knew it was impossible. Wards had been placed on every way out of the country in an effort to keep others from carrying out similar plans.
"It'll be alright, Ron. It will be, I promise. Kingsley's running for Minister next year. You and I both know he'll win and when he does… when he does, he'll get rid of this law. I just know he will."
"But what about in the meantime! You can't marry that git! That bastard! A year? They can't make you!"
This was true, Hermione thought. The Ministry could not make her marry Snape, they could however, stick her in Azkaban Prison, which was the only other option. An ultimatum she wasn't quite willing to take. Hermione explained this to him again, heart breaking as his eyes filled with tears.
Suddenly Ron enveloped her in a bone crushing embrace which she returned with no hesitation. Sinking to the floor, they both had the feeling the time was drawing near. Ron sobbed violently while Hermione attempted to control her tears, determined to be strong. They both sat there for a moment, foreheads pressed together in silent grief before the Ministry Official informed Hermione that it was time to go.
"I love you." She whispered, as they rose to their feet. "I love you so much."
They kissed each other hard, falling once again into a tight embrace.
"I must insist, Miss. Granger." The woman said. She had Hermione's bags in hand. "It's time to go."
The couple pulled away. Ron turned furiously to face the woman.
"It's bloody stupid idea, I'll have you know!" He spit. "Your precious, fucking, Ministry has got it all wrong. It'll never work."
The woman looked unabashed, if not saddened. "For both your sakes I pray it doesn't, Mr. Weasley."
It wasn't exactly a comforting thing to say, but she had tried all the same. Hermione felt the woman's warm hand on her shoulder, and allowed herself to be led to the doorway, closely followed by Ron.
"I don't care how long it takes, alright? I'll be here. I love you."
She reached for his hand but in that instant he was gone, swirling out of sight with a gust of wind and a loud pop.
"It's not over." Hermione thought.
But it was.
A/N: Hi all! I'm currently in the process of rewriting this story so if you've seen some of it before, don't worry p, it's still the same author. Please feel free to give me any criticism or ideas of what you'd like to see. Tell me what you do and don't like. Chapter 2 is locked and loaded and 3 on the way. Please review!