A/N: This is my first ever fanfiction so please be nice.

Just to clarify this AU, the war ended in Harry's fifth year when he defeated Voldemort (more about this is revealed throughout). We never lost Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Snape, Fred, Cedric or Dumbledore. Though Voldemort is dead, the Ministry is corrupt and Death Eaters are still a problem.

Stumbling down the stairs, Hermione could hear the bustle of the Burrow; it was a sound that she adored. Everyone moved in sync: the twins could dart from one end of the room to the other without knocking a single person over, Molly laid the table just as everyone sat down, Arthur managed to move off the stairs, brush the last of his hair out of his face, peck his wife on the cheek, and put his coat on in one fluid movement.

Her hair was acting up again. That was evident from a quick glance in the mirror.

"Ron, have you seen the Daily Prophet?" It was Ginny, her usual, bubbly self. "Rita Skeeter's at it again."

Hermione weaved through the mess of ginger haired people, taking a seat between Remus and Ron.

"Guess it could be much worse for you, eh, Hermione?" Remus nosed over the top of his copy of the paper, giving her a gentle smile.

"What's that, sorry?" she turned sharply to face him, confused and curious.

"Harry!" Ginny beamed as he too stumbled down the stairs with bed hair. "Look!" She continued to grin as she handed him her copy of the paper.

Wincing, he adjusted his glasses and took a seat. "Ministry's New Marriage Laws Hit The Wizarding World By Storm."

Almost simultaneously, Harry, Ron and Hermione spat their drinks.

"-The Minster of Magic agreed the disastrous decline in wizarding population could not be targeted any other way. He proposed the law last night at the end of the Yearly Wizarding Conference, stating that he hopes all those 2 years out of education to be married."

Silence filled the air. The only one left smiling was Ginny.

"So-" Molly began, trying to restore the atmosphere before the outrageous news. "You kids better eat up," she gestured to the trio, "your last weekend of freedom before you buckle down for NEWTs. 5 months and counting, is it, eh? We should all go to the pub. Butterbeer's on me."

Hermione didn't look up from her cup. "I don't think I have the stomach, Mrs Weasley, but thank you. I think I'm just going to go for a walk."

"I can't make it either," Harry added, "I've got a ton of work to do for Monday, and Sirius wants to take me out to this old place he used to go to with my dad. I won't be back 'til late."

Remus looked up. "Not that rusty old barn he used to hide in, is it, Harry? Don't forget to bring a jacket or else you'll freeze."

"I dunno what it is, he won't say. He's been oddly mysterious about the whole thing." If Hermione was listening to that she would have turned her nose up at the comment about mystery - it never was something she particularly enjoyed or approved of. Why couldn't people just be up front to each other?

Remus's comment seemed to have done it. Everyone seemed to forget about the impending realisation they would all have to take part in unprepared, arranged marriages, as they began chatting about Sirius's unforthcoming attitude towards the barn.

Everyone except Hermione, of course.

She returned 5 hours later, tired, exhausted in fact, heavily breathing after her brisk walk, and went straight into the shower.

As she was getting dressed there was a knock at her door, and a head appeared.

"Ronald! I'm getting changed!" she shouted throwing the closest top she could find over her head.

"Sorry... I just... I think we need to talk," he began.

"About what?"

"The law."

"We have two years Ron, don't worry about it, we can make it work," she calmly began. "We're lucky, we have each other. If you stop ignoring me like a child and close you mouth when you chew, I'm sure everything will be fine." She laughed a little to tell him she didn't mean it hurtfully.

"Yeah ok," Ron replied mindlessly.