The morning after the last day of exams dawned rather warm, and Hermione hastily kicked the covers off her body, wondering how they had even come to be upon her in the first place; she knew very well that she had gone to sleep lying on top of them. Yawning, she wiped the sweat from her face with her hand before cracking her eyes open. The room was quiet, and a quick glance toward the other two beds in the room showed that Lavender and Parvati were still sleeping soundly, although Hermione imagined that the heat would rouse them soon enough.
Hermione stretched with a sigh before standing and walking to the bathroom the three sixth year Gryffindors shared. She had never been so grateful for being female than when she had learned, due to the fact that women had menses, each girls' dormitory had its own private bathroom to ensure that they would not have to leave their rooms after curfew. As she began to brush her teeth, Hermione heard the first stirrings from her roommates.
"Bloody hell, Hermione!" Lavender yelled through the closed door. "Hurry up in there!"
Hermione spat into the sink before replying, "If it's that urgent, there's a girl's loo just one floor down!"
"You're daft if you think we're stepping a toe out of this room without freshening up!" Parvati's voice answered.
Hermione rinsed her mouth quickly before grabbing the few toiletries she was still in need of and opening the door. "It's all yours, ladies."
"'Bout time!" Lavender, who appeared to be just short of breaking down the door, brushed past Hermione hurriedly, followed closely by Parvati.
Hermione sighed, taking her robe from the foot of her bed and putting it on. From the bathroom, she heard the sound of running water, followed by Parvati's voice, "Don't use all the hot water, Lavender!"
Before Lavender could reply, Hermione placed the items she had brought from the bathroom into her pockets and left the room. Once in the corridor, she walked to the door of the fifth year's room and knocked. A few moments later, the door was opened to reveal a half-awake young girl with short, black hair.
"Good morning, Shelly." Hermione smiled. "Is Ginny awake yet?"
Shelly wearily cracked open one brown eye. "Mornin', Hermione," she yawned. "Come in."
Hermione followed Shelly into the room, closing the door behind her as Shelly stumbled groggily over to Ginny's bed.
"Oy, Gin!" Shelly said loudly, causing the sleeping girl to jump and peer at her through a curtain of red hair. "You have a visitor." With that, Shelly walked back to her bed and flung herself across it, closing her eyes in an attempt to get a few more minutes sleep.
From her bed, Ginny groaned, rolling over and pushing the hair out of her face to see who was there. Without a word, Hermione grinned sheepishly and produced her hairbrush from the pocket of her robes, holding it up so Ginny could see it.
"The offspring of Narcissus toss you out again?" Ginny chuckled, allowing her head to fall back against the pillows.
"Yes," Hermione sighed. "Mind if I finish up in here?"
Ginny sleepily waved an arm towards the bathroom which she and Shelly shared. "Just wake me back up when you're finished."
By the time Hermione returned to her room to dress, the door to the bathroom was open, filling the bedroom with steam. From somewhere inside the thick fog, Lavender's voice drifted out.
"Do you think this is too dark?"
"If you're going to wear those shoes, yes," came Parvati's reply. "Why don't you go with this colour instead?"
'I honestly don't know why they even bother,' Hermione thought, as she pulled on a clean t-shirt. 'You can't even see what they're wearing underneath the school robes, and any makeup they put on will go with black.' Ignoring the rest of their conversation, Hermione finished dressing, donned her robes and prefect's badge, and left for breakfast.
Hermione couldn't help but notice that the staff seemed to be rather sombre this morning. Indeed, Professor McGonagall wore an expression so sour that it would rival Professor Snape's usual look. Hermione was about to point this out to Harry and Ron, when Professor Dumbledore got to his feet. The Hall fell silent, all eyes turned toward the Headmaster.
"I must ask," Dumbledore began, his tone very solemn, his eyes without their characteristic twinkle. "That all students born on or before December the 31st, 1980, remain in the Hall after breakfast, as well as the Heads of Houses." With that, he retook his seat, providing no further explanation.
"Wonder what that's about?" Ron asked around a mouthful of toast as the sounds of conversation once again filled the Hall.
"I imagine we'll find out when breakfast is over," Hermione replied. "Do you think it has anything to do with why the professors look so serious?"
Ron and Harry quickly turned towards the staff table.
"Blimey! McGonagall looks like she's ready to hand out detention to everyone!" Ron exclaimed.
"That's nothing," Harry said. "Snape looks like he'll kill the next person that crosses his path!"
Hermione and Ron followed Harry's gaze to their Potions professor, Ron swallowing audibly at the look of pure venom Snape was sending around the students. Further speculation was put on hold, however, when the doors to the Great Hall burst open and four very official looking people, two witches and two wizards, walked in. They neither looked at nor acknowledged the students in any way, but kept their eyes on the Head Table as they strode as one towards Professor Dumbledore.
After a few whispered words between the Headmaster and one of the witches in the group, Professor Sinistra rose and led the four officials into a chamber behind the staff table. Conversation in the Great Hall immediately turned to conjecture over just whom the newcomers were.
Slowly, the younger students began to leave, and when the last of the breakfast dishes had disappeared, the few who remained that were not required to stay, got up and left the Hall, as well as most of the staff. Hermione looked around, seeing who all was left. All of the sixth and seventh years were still in their seats, as well a third of the fifth years and Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout. Hermione watched as Professor Dumbledore whispered something to Professor McGonagall, who nodded her head and walked briskly over to the chamber in which the officials had been sent. She opened the door, said a few words, and stood back as the group re-emerged and took seats at the Head Table.
"As I'm sure some of you have noticed," Professor Dumbledore began, not bothering to stand; looking almost as if the weight of the words he spoke held him firmly in his chair. "The morning post has not arrived."
Hermione started, realizing that she had been so caught up in what was going on she had failed to notice the lack of owls. Scanning her eyes about the faces of her classmates, she knew that she was not the only one.
"Your mail has been delivered to your dormitories," Dumbledore continued. "And you will find it at the foot of your bed when you are dismissed later this morning. The reason this has been done is that some of you receive The Daily Prophet, and the staff thought it best if you heard the news from us rather than the newspaper. I am afraid that the headline today affects all students, as well as one professor, in this room." He paused for a moment, gazing at his pupils with a look of sadness upon his face, allowing what he said to sink in before speaking again.
"It is my unfortunate," Dumbledore stressed the word; turning his eyes briefly toward the witch he had spoken to earlier, "duty to inform you that The Marriage Law has been passed."
A great, indignant outcry arose from the students. Screams of protests mixed with the great wailing sobs of a few girls who had burst into tears at the news filled the Hall.
"No!" Hermione exclaimed, her hands balling themselves into fists so tightly that her fingernails cut into her palms. "No, no, no!" It had never occurred to her that the law would be approved; it was simply too absurd to be passed! She looked across the table at Harry and Ron.
Ron had gone white, his mouth moving as if trying to speak, but finding no sounds or words to properly decry the injustice of it all. Harry had risen to his feet, screaming that the wizarding world would have been better off if Voldemort had won. At the sound of the Dark Lord's name, the Hall fell deathly silent, all eyes turned to Harry, who stood, panting in his anger, glaring daggers at the four officials seated at the Head Table.
"What did you say, Mr. Potter?" the witch that had spoken to Professor Dumbledore earlier hissed as she leaned forward in her seat, her eyes narrowing.
"You heard me!" Harry spat. "Had I known what would happen after I defeated him, I would have used The Killing Curse on myself and let him win! The outcome would have been far kinder than what The Ministry is subjecting us to!"
The witch, looking as if she would hex Harry, opened her mouth to reply, her lips barely around the first word before Professor Dumbledore spoke again.
"I understand that none of you are happy with this new law. However, arguing about it will not change a thing. And I warn all of you now, that failure to comply with The Marriage Law carries a sentence in Azkaban."
"Well, call the Aurors and take me away," Harry yelled, his eyes still upon the witch. "Because I absolutely refuse to comply with this!"
"Harry, no!" Hermione cried; reaching across the table and pulling him toward her before continuing in a whisper only he could here. "Just go along with it for now! We'll find a way out of it! Please, don't do this! There has to be a loophole or something that will save us, and I promise you I'll find it, just don't fight them now! Don't go to Azkaban!"
"Is that, indeed, your wish, Mr. Potter?" the witch sneered from her seat. "It can most certainly be arranged."
"Mary!" one of the wizards from The Ministry exclaimed. "Surely you're not serious!"
"It's alright," Harry said, pulling from Hermione's grasp and standing. "I'll go along with it."
"A very wise decision, Mr. Potter." Mary said.
Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Please sit down, Harry. Now, before any more protests are made, allow me to go over the new law."
Dumbledore paused then, making sure that the students would remain calm before he continued. "The Marriage Law requires all witches and wizards born on or between January 1st, 1960 and December 31st, 1980 to submit to a brief interview with The Ministry of Magic, during which time it will be determined whether or not the law applies to the person. If the person is married, or has applied for a marriage license before today, then the person is ineligible. Unfortunately for all of you, Wizarding Law in Great Britain prohibits anyone underage or still attending school lower than University level from applying for a marriage license, and therefore none of you will be saved by that exemption. However, numerous other criteria, including such things as culture, religion, fertility, and even sexual leanings may still render you exempt. Are there any questions about anything thus far?"
Padma Patil's hand shot into the air. The Headmaster acknowledged her with a nod.
"Sir, what do you mean by culture and religion?"
"Ah, I thought that either you or your sister might ask that question." Dumbledore smiled. "It means that anyone belonging to a group of people where marriages are arranged will be exempt from the law. As I understand it, both you and Parvati have been betrothed since the age of two, is that not so?"
Padma mutely nodded her head.
"Then both you and your sister will not meet the criteria in The Marriage Law," Dumbledore replied. Padma let out a ragged breath, while Parvati began to cry silently in relief. "You will both, however, be required to have the interview and be officially declared exempt. Any other questions?"
Hermione raised her hand, and Dumbledore's gaze fell upon her, a slight smile that said I expected to see your hand at least once, upon his face.
"Sir, what about fertility and sexual leanings?"
"To answer your question, Miss Granger, I shall go on to the next part of my explanation of The Marriage Law. The law was brought about to ensure that the magical race does not die out, and the wizarding world has a disturbing trend of breeding out their own kind. Meaning that the absence of fresh blood caused by purebloods marrying purebloods, and even Muggle-borns marrying Muggle-borns, is causing a drastic increase in the number of non-magical children being born to wizarding parents. The chance of a non-magical child being born to parents where each has a different magical ancestry, such as a Muggle-born father and a pureblood mother, is virtually non-existent. Therefore, once you are determined to meet the criteria of the law, the Ministry will divide all those qualified into three groups, pureblood, half-blood, and Muggle-born. They will then determine whom you will marry by finding the person you are most compatible with who has not been sorted into the same category as you."
Professor Dumbledore noticed a few confused faces among the students as he took a breath. "For example; Miss Granger, they will choose a husband for you that is either half-blood or pureblood; Mr. Weasley's wife will be chosen from the half-blood or Muggle-born women; and Mr. Potter's wife will be either pureblood or Muggle-born. The reason for this is to guarantee that almost all of the children born of these marriages will be magical. The Marriage Law requires that two children be born within the first ten years of marriage. This is why fertility is one of the criteria used to determine if the law will apply to you. If you are infertile, then you will be exempt.
"Now, The Ministry does not wish for any unhappy marriages to come from this new law," At this, quite a few derisive comments were heard from students and staff alike. Professor Dumbledore waited patiently for the voices to subside before he spoke again. "This is where the sexual leaning bit comes in. If, during the testing it is found that you are homosexual, you will be exempt. Now, are there any questions before we move on?"
When no hands were raised, Professor Dumbledore finally stood, removing his wand from his robe. "If you would all be so kind as to stand?" Slowly, the students got to their feet, and with a flick of his wand, Professor Dumbledore made the house tables vanish. "Now, I would like the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws to move to the left side of the Hall, the Slytherins and Huffelpuffs, to the right, if you please."
In a great show of dragging their feet, the students did as they were told until two large groups stood on either side of The Great Hall. Hermione, Harry, and Ron huddled together against the wall, waiting with baited breath for what was to come.
"I would like to introduce Madam Grimes and Master Whitmore, who will be taking care of the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws," Dumbledore said. The witch who had argued with Harry and one of the wizards from The Ministry stood, walked from the Head Table, and came to stand before the group gathered on the left side of the Hall. "And Madam Smythe and Master Potts, who will be taking care of the Slytherins and Huffelpuffs." The remaining witch and wizard rose and took their place in front of the students on the right side of the Hall. As if on cue, four sets of tables and chairs appeared, one for each Ministry official. Hermione watched as Madam Grimes took a seat at her table and flicked her wand, causing parchment, a quill, and an inkwell to appear and arrange themselves neatly on the tabletop.
"Now," Professor Dumbledore's voice rang out across the Hall, cutting the eerie silence that no one was aware existed until he spoke. Hermione jumped and turned to face him, "If you would please now form two lines, boys in front of Masters Whitmore and Potts, girls in front of Madams Grimes and Smythe, we can begin. If you are found eligible, I ask that you remain in the Hall. If you are found exempt, you may return to your House dormitory."
In the same slow pace with which they had separated into two groups, the students formed themselves into lines accordingly. Hermione ended up about a third of the way back in the line of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw girls. She had tried to stay near Harry and Ron, but Harry had ended up being the third person in the line of boys, Ron the fifth. Between them, Neville stood, looking very ill and it seemed that Ron's and Harry's firm grip on Neville's robes were the only things keeping him standing.
While they had been lining up, the Heads of Houses had come to stand near their charges; Hermione could see Professor McGonagall holding herself stiffly next to Madam Grimes. As Hermione waited for the first students to step forward, a collective gasp sounded from the other side of the room. All eyes turned, and Hermione's mouth fell open at the sight of Professor Snape, sitting before Master Potts. Evidently, he was the one member of staff who was affected by The Marriage Law.
Though no one dared to even breathe as Professor Snape began his interview, Hermione could not hear what was being said. Nor could she tell what sort of spell Master Potts cast on Professor Snape. She watched as a green light surrounded the Potion's Master briefly, followed by a brief word from Master Grimes that she still could not hear. However, she could tell by the way Professor Snape abruptly stood, his fists clenched at his sides, a look of utter hatred upon his face; Professor Snape was not exempt.
Slowly the lines moved forward, as each student was declared eligible, a wooden chair would appear for them in the middle of The Great Hall, facing toward the Head Table, a few students actually had to be helped to their seats by their Head of House. By the time it was Harry's turn, no one had yet been declared exempt. Hermione waited anxiously, her fingers crossed in the pockets of her robes. 'Please, please let him not be eligible! Get him out of this!'
However, when Harry stood, a chair appeared for him among the others, and for the first time since the dreadful news had been delivered, Hermione cried. The tears continued as more and more of her classmates also found chairs waiting for them; Neville, Ron, and to Hermione's surprise, Ginny's roommate, Shelly, were also not exempt. The room became blurry, and by the time it was Hermione's turn, her face had become red and she had begun to hiccup. She took her seat, Madam Grimes an indistinct patch of colours before her.
"Name?" Madam Grimes asked in a bored tone.
"Hermione Jane Gran (hic) ger."
"Birthday?"
"September 19th, 197 (hic) 9."
"Fifth, sixth, or seventh year?"
"Sixth."
Hermione listened without interest as Madam Grimes said a very complex incantation, vaguely aware of a green light coming from somewhere.
"Eligible," Madam Grimes spoke, her voice seemingly far away. "Next."
Hermione stood, and although she could barely see where she was going, she managed to find her chair. She felt arms wrap around her from both sides, and somehow knew that she was between Harry and Ron. Together, the three of them held each other and wept.
When it was all over, only nine students had left the Hall, two Gryffindors, one Slytherin, three Huffelpuffs, and three Ravenclaws. The remaining students waited silently as the teachers returned to the Head Table and the Ministry officials gathered their things and left.
"You will each be receiving the name of the person you are to marry, along with the date the marriage is to take place, on the last day of term," Professor Dumbledore addressed them, his voice quivering slightly as he spoke. "No one will be required to wed before they have completed their education at Hogwarts. I know that this upsets all of you, and if at any time you feel that you need someone to talk to, your Professors and I are here to listen. You all may return to your dormitories."
Nearly as one, the students stood, finding the doors to The Great Hall standing open once more. Silently, Hermione, Harry, and Ron, still clinging to one another and crying noiselessly, made their way to Gryffindor Tower.
In the days that followed, Hermione began a mantra, and at night while Parvati held a weeping Lavender as she tried to sleep, Parvati could hear Hermione repeating it in her slumber. "Just let it be Ron or Harry. Just let it be Ron or Harry."
Soon, that became all she could think, and Hermione found herself unable to speak or to even care what her exam scores were when she received them. Instead, she carelessly threw them in her trunk. Occasionally, she would wake from her stupor long enough to realize that she was being held by someone, usually Harry, Ron, or Ginny, yet she could not bring herself to put her arms around them and offer comfort in return; she would retreat inside her mind once more, to the desperate plea, just let it be Ron or Harry.
It finally arrived; the last day of term, and even the students too young to be affected by The Marriage Law were strangely silent. Not a sound was heard during breakfast save for the slight scraping of utensils against dishes caused by those unburdened enough to have an appetite. The rest just waited, eyes downcast as if to not stare at the ceiling would prevent the owls from delivering their doom. It was a futile effort, and soon a tremendous roar of wings filled The Great Hall, hundreds of owls, some with the usual mail, but most directly from The Ministry of Magic, swooped in to deliver their goods.
Hermione mechanically took the letter from the barn owl before her and fed it a slice of bacon. She waited for it to take flight before she opened the offending piece of parchment that would steal her freedom. As she began to unroll it with a shaking hand, the sounds of wailing started to replace the din caused by the owls. But before she could read her letter, an unearthly snarl, followed by a crash came from The Head Table. Grateful for the brief distraction, Hermione turned her attention toward the sound.
Professor Snape was standing, his chest heaving and his face murderous as he stared at the crumpled piece of parchment in his hand. His chair lay on the floor behind him; food and dishes from The Head Table were strewn about the floor. As Hermione pondered this, his eyes darted up and scanned the Gryffindors' table. He met Hermione's gaze, held it for an instant, and then strode from the Hall in a billow of black robes.
As soon as he was gone, Hermione felt the letter in her hands again. 'Please let it be Ron or Harry.' Reluctantly she turned back to it. 'Please let it be Ron or Harry.' She finished unrolling it slowly. 'Please let it be Ron or Harry.' She began reading. 'Please let it be Ron or Harry.' Her wedding was to take place 3rd July 1998… 'Please let it be Ron or Harry.'… to Severus Snape. Her world went black.
Author's Notes-This is inspired by, not a response to, The Marriage Law Challenge. It will be short, probably only two or three chapters.