Miss Hermione Jean Granger,
As you of all people are very well aware, the war of the past year has caused the magical community a great many losses. England's magical population suffers even still from hundreds of deaths from both sides, and our already weak numbers are dwindling. Our world as we know it is at risk, and may come to an end if our population does not stabilize.
It is for this reason that I have consented to a new decree. Though I am sure your initial reaction will not be one of pleasure, I know that, given some thought, you will come to agree with me and see that this is the best option. An offical Ministry letter will be arriving shortly with the details, but as a friend, as a man who fought alongside you, I felt I owed it to you to give you a bit of warning. Please know that you and other top contributors to our success in the war will be given a high priority in the Matching.
Sincerely,
Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic
Hermione raised a single eyebrow as she stared down at the beautifully written note. It had arrived just minutes before, carefully attached to the leg of a handsome screech owl, one that had also delivered similar envelopes to Harry and Ron. The three of them had crowded around one end of the kitchen table in the Burrow, sitting close. It was a habit they had unconsciously developed, to be close to one another when they recieved potentially bad news. But Hermione Granger wasn't sure if this news was good or bad. She looked up at them now, and huffed a bit impatiently as she waited for them to finish reading so they could discuss what Kingsley might have meant.
"And what exactly is it that he's warned us of? He never so much as hinted about what he was talking about," Harry finally grumbled.
"No..." Hermione said, glancing back at the parchment. "He said: 'you and other top contributors will be given a high priority in the Matching'..." she trailed off, her brow furrowing in confusion.
"Matching?" Ron repeated.
"I haven't the faintest idea," Hermione muttered, scanning the letter again for anything else that might help. The population was low, there would be a 'Matching' and she probably wasn't going to like it... her mind was going a hundred different directions at once as she tried to puzzle out how these ideas were connected.
"'If our population doe not stabilize'..." Harry mumbled, glaring at the letter as if commanding it to explain the situation in full.
Her head shot up at the sound of a tapping on glass. With a strange sense of foreboding, she approached the window and unlatched it, letting the Ministry owl fly into the room. It stared into her eyes as she removed the packet of letters from its leg, and if she didn't know better, she would have sworn the damn thing was smirking at her.