Summary: Hermione Granger was living a mediocre life, but she found that she was okay with it. She liked the routine and the simplicity of it. But when a marriage law turns her whole world upside down, she finds that she'll have to put behind old grudges and old habits if she ever wants to find love.

Author's Note: I'm so excited to start this story! I know marriage law fics are kinda cliche, but I think writing about Dramione is gonna be so much fun! Thanks for reading :)

Chapter 1

Hermione Granger was perfectly fine with her life, thank you very much. No, she was not running about the Wizarding World saving everyone's lives, and no, she didn't have a super cool Ministry job where she kicked bad guys' asses everyday, but she liked to think she was making a difference. Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. That's where they stuck her after she marched up to the Minister's office one day beyond angry that house elves were still being abused by those good-for-nothing pureblooded families. She demanded that some action been taken, so they had made her in charge of that action. The Elf Rights and Regulations Bureau was created, and Hermione liked to think that she was the Head of this department. However, she was the only person in this department, and a little, obnoxiously nagging voice in the back of her head (that sounded an awful lot like Reeta Skeeter) told her that no matter how shiny the name tag on her desk was, it didn't count.

Oh, and her love life didn't exist. She had dated Ron for a little while after their first kiss, but a lot of heated arguments and hurtful words led them to shaking hands and promising they would never try to date each other again. Really, Hermione was glad. He was her best friend, and it was very evident that they should stay that way.

So, all in all, Hermione probably wasn't living the glamorous life many had envisioned for her after The Golden Trio defeated He Who Must Not Be Named. But really, she couldn't complain. The absence of a man in her life allowed her to focus on her work without the constant complaints of her being too focused on her work, and Hermione always did just fine as an independent woman.

Still, it felt like something was missing sometimes, especially whenever she went out to lunch with Ginny and saw the big engagement ring on her finger. She saw a happiness in her friend's expression that Hermione felt she may never be able to understand. She was getting older, and, as her mother constantly reminded her, the clock was ticking.

"Clock's ticking. You're gonna be late, 'Mione," said Harry Potter, staring at his best friend in amusement. Her wild hair seemed to frizz even more as she looked at the clock on her desk and realized that he was correct. She was going to be late for her meeting with the Minister. She gathered her books and what was left of her lunch (which was most of it...she'd gotten a little too engrossed in telling Harry about the new book she was reading on the many uses of unicorn hair) and stood up too fast, hitting her knee on the table in the process.

"Merlin's knickers!" she cried out as she grabbed her knee. Harry was no help at all. He simply doubled over in laughter, clutching his stomach and eventually reaching up to pull off his glasses and wipe the tears streaming down his face.

"Are you okay?" Harry finally managed to gasp out as his laughter slowly died down, only to realize that he was currently on the receiving end of a rather terrifying glare.

Hermione crossed her arms and pursed her lips, trying her very best to intimidate the green-eyed man in front of her even though her knee was still throbbing. Not only was he partly the reason for her being late to a rather important meeting with the Minister of Magic, but his laughing at her just would not do. Plus, it was always entertaining to watch him get flushed and tongue-tied when he knew he was in trouble. How he got away with anything he did in his Hogwarts days was a mystery to her. "Harry James Potter," she started, in her very best Molly Weasley voice.

Harry cringed, knowing he was in for it. He didn't mean to laugh at her, he really didn't. It was just her hair, and her expression, and on top of all that, he really had not expected his slightly prudish friend to shout "Merlin's knickers" in the middle of the Auror office. Granted, no one else was in there except them, but it was still something that took him by surprise. His eyes widened as he took in the angry yet mischievous look on her face, and immediately tried to backpedal his way out of whatever speech she had planned for him. He could feel the blood rising to his face already. "Mione-Hermione, I really didn't mean anything by it. You know that. It was kind of funny! You gotta learn to laugh at your-wait! No! Forget I said that!" he blurted out. Her tapping foot was making him even more nervous.

Smoothing her skirt and calmly picking back up her papers, Hermione grinned. Then her grin turned into a full-blown smile, and then she was the one laughing at Harry, and she found she couldn't stop. "I'm sorry," she giggled. "It's just-your face! Oh my god," she screeched as she burst into an even louder set of laughter.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Harry mumbled. "Score one for Hermione." Glancing at the clock again, he jumped at the chance to move on from yet another embarrassing moment in which Hermione bested him. He supposed, though, that he did have it coming. "Laugh all you want, but you're still late for your meeting. What was it for again?"

Hermione stopped laughing, her expression growing a bit more serious. "I'm not really sure, but I'm assuming it has something to do with my new House Elves Salary proposal. One of my best works, if I do say so myself." She grinned again at Harry, and then turned and walked towards the door. "And on that note, I really should leave. I'll see you and Ginny later tonight for dinner!" she called out behind her, walking at a faster pace than really was acceptable for a woman her age to be walking in the workplace. But, in typical Hermione fashion, she really didn't care.

She didn't get very far, however, because, in her rush, she found herself crashing into a hard body. Her papers flew everywhere, and Hermione hurried to gather them all. Clearly, whatever godly forces lived in the skies did not want her to go to this meeting with the Minister. "I'm so sorry," she quickly said, her apology a reflex. "I'm in a huge hurry and wasn't paying attention. Are you okay?" She finally looked up, and was met with two very striking, very familiar grey eyes.

"Granger," he drawled. She'd forgotten how aristocratic his voice sounded. "Long time, no see."

It really hadn't been that long. In fact, Draco came to the Ministry quite often, doing who knows what. She heard his name whispered throughout the departments, but, if she were being honest with herself, she tried to avoid run-ins with Draco as much as possible. No need to encourage his taunting. If he ever heard that she was working alone in a department that no one else really cared about, or that, at the age of 22, she could count the number of dates she'd been on with one hand, his constant teasing remarks would be endless.

His voice drew her out of her thoughts. "Your hair's looking particularly frizzy today, Granger. Going somewhere?"

She huffed in response and reached out to smooth her hair. It wasn't that frizzy. "None of your business, Malfoy," she said, and winced at how very immature that sounded. Honestly, this man made a fool of her.

Draco simply raised an eyebrow. His blond hair had grown out a little, and he didn't wear it slicked back like he did in school. And he didn't seem so pale anymore. In fact, she noticed he had aged pretty well. 21 suited him.

Hermione had to physically shake her head to snap herself out of it. What the hell was she thinking, daydreaming about Malfoy like that? I really have been reading too many romance novels, she thought. "I'm late. Meeting with Kingsley," she finally said, hoping he hadn't noticed her small appraisal of him. She then glanced at the watch on her wrist and clutched her papers tighter to her chest. "And when I say late, I mean extremely late. Bye, Malfoy," she said, then turned around and continued on her path to Kingsley Shacklebolt's office.

If she looked over her shoulder again at Draco, she would have seen the small grin the crossed his face as he watched her leave.

"Ms. Granger," Kingsley greeted her when she finally arrived at his door.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm so sorry I'm late, Minister," she began.

"What did I say about the Minister stuff?" Kingsley interrupted. "You knew me well before I was given that title, and I think we've been through enough danger together to be in a less formal setting. Call me Kingsley," he said, and Hermione would have sworn she saw a brief smile cross his face before his expression turned serious again.

Hermione simply nodded her head, apologized once more, and then proceeded to start putting her papers down on his desk. "I don't know exactly why you called me here, Kingsley, but I brought a few of my proposals and research papers, just in case," she said. "This one here's my personal favorite, it describes in detail the relationship between a house elf and his or her 'master'-"

She was once again cut off by Shacklebolt, who raised his hand to stop her. "Before you get ahead of yourself, Hermione, I must admit that I didn't ask you to meet with me so we could discuss some of your proposals. I promise, I will make time to read over them, but there's something far more important that I need to discuss with you." He took a small breath as if to steady himself, and that small movement scared Hermione more than anything. She had never seen Kingsley even slightly nervous, so his current behavior was throwing her for a loop. "As you know, the War left behind a lot of consequences, some of which were much easier to fix, and some of which were not. And, as Minister, I've had to make a lot of difficult choices, but please know that I am only doing this for the good of the Wizarding World. It must be done, Hermione, or the Wizarding World could face extinction!"

Hermione's uneasiness levels skyrocketed. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the Minister. "What is your point, Minister?"

"Kingsley, Hermione," he reminder her. He sighed once more, then pulled out a thick looking piece of parchment from his desk drawer. The length of it frightened her, and she was rarely frightened by lengthy parchment. "Wizard populations are dwindling at a shocking rate," he stated. "People lost loved ones, and they're suffering greatly. To put it frankly, no one's getting married and no one's having kids. And a lot of people are dying. Still. Whether from illnesses or wounds from the War, mentally and physically, or because they've been sentenced to a life in Azkaban. Wizards will not survive another decade if this pattern continues." Slowly, he pushed the paper towards Hermione, and her eyes scanned the title in horror. "We have to pass a marriage law, Hermione. It's the only way."

She almost didn't believe it, but there it was, in big, bold writing: Wizarding Marriage Law of 2003. She scanned the passages quickly, and then looked up at the Minister in outrage. His expression was forlorn, but determined. There wasn't much she could do to change his mind, but she still tried. "You can't do this!" she cried. "You're taking away the most basic human right: free-will! I hope to God you know what you're getting yourself into, Minister."

"I've talked to some of the best research wizards in the country," he said calmly. "We've tried to find other solutions, but we've come to the conclusion that nothing would be as successful as a marriage law. It pains me to do this, it really does. Especially because I know that it affects you, Harry, and Ron as much as it affects the rest of Wizarding Britain, and I hate to ask you for more sacrifices."

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. They had given their entire childhood to people like Shacklebolt. Harry lost his life, Ron lost his brother, and Hermione lost her family just to ensure that life for wizards all across the world would remain equal and safe. And now, they were losing all of that again. They had no choice in their future. The Ministry would make that decision for them.

She stood up from her chair briskly and made her voice as cold as possible. "Yes, it really is a pity to ask more from the people who gave everything, isn't it?" The hurt look she saw on Kingsley's face almost made her retract her statement, but she held her stance. "This is everything I've been fighting against since I began working here, Kingsley. If the Ministry passes this law, they will be treating us no better than house elves."

Kingsley rubbed his hand down his face, and met her eyes again with the most heart-breaking expression. "The law's already been passed, Hermione. Letters informing the public of the law are being sent out at the end of the week. And the names of their prospective spouses are in those letters, too. I hope you can forgive me, Hermione. I tried to find a way out of this, but-"

"There was absolutely no other way, I get it," she spat. Hermione hadn't been this angry since she'd punched Malfoy during Third Year. "Let me know when the Ministry also decides to make us wear ratty old pillowcases and punish ourselves whenever we do something wrong."

That was low, and she knew it. Shacklebolt looked even more saddened, and his shoulders were slowly slumping forward as if the weight of the world was pressing against them. "Listen, I just wanted to tell you personally. I thought it was something you deserved to hear from me, and not from a piece of parchment."

Blood was rushing through her ears so loudly she almost didn't hear what he said. She had to get out of here. She had to tell Ron and Harry and Ginny. She thought they had been safe. "Thank you, then. Have a good day," she bit out. She walked as quickly as she could out the door, leaving her papers sitting forgotten on Kingsley's desk. Closing the door behind her, she continued back down the same hallway towards the Auror office.

She cursed the gods for not trying harder to keep her from her meeting.