Kingsley couldn't have believed we'd receive this well. That's why he stood behind the podium instead of facing us like a man. After spending our adolescence fighting for what was right it would seem we didn't quite deserve a break. Typical. He fumbled through his notes, trying to find a way to sugar coat the way he was planning on using us. We were no more than cattle in the ministries eyes.

"Welcome to the rest of your lives." I heard his attempt at joy and excitement, but they fell flat as he distributed the tests. They were thick packets filled to bursting with short answer and no one was allowed to leave until the results were in. I may have preferred that they locked us away- and why marriage ? I could take procreating. There was no honor in it, but if it could save my future then fine. But, no. The ministry was determined to squeeze every last drop of freedom or normalacy from my bones.

First question; If the ceiling were to fall in what would you be most likely to do?

I dunked my quill within the ink and set to it. If I pretended it was inconsequential then it wasn't too bad. It was no more in depth than a 17 Again magazine questionnaire. Which worried me. The last question of 45 was a sample cup, but what they wanted in it was beyond me. A few people were spitting into the cup while a few others were in line for the restrooms. It seemed to be a your choice kind of thing.

Popping the top off I dropped a few hairs into the container and turned in my test. Kingsley gave me a grateful smile -one that was ignored.

"Miss. Granger," he sighed heavily, "this wasn't my choice."

"You're minister aren't you ?" My words were colder than intended, but he'd unintentionally become my punching bag.

"You know nothing works how it should." I could feel his gaze on the back of my head, but I refused to turn around.

"We fought so hard, all of us." When it became apparent that he had nothing more to say I grunted and continued, "you should have fought for us too." I took my place at the table once more ignoring the Slytherins sitting opposite of me.

"Why aren't you angry?" I never spoke to Slytherins if I could help it, but today was an off day. The grouchiest house in school was just as talkitive and aloof as usual. It was maddening. Nott was just barely polite enough to acknowledge I'd spoken even if he did seem to be glaring down his nose at me.

"Most of us were going into arranged marriages anyways. This new law just means we might get paired with someone we don't completely hate."

He didn't wait for a response (as I had no plans to offer one) and left to turn in his test. Pansy, on the other hand, sat with her head in her hands.

"There goes my easy betrothal with Draco." Her head slipped passed her finger cradle and thumped onto the table, "good bye endless riches. Good bye pool house in Milan." Her whining was a bit dramatic, but I supposed having 'endless riches' ripped away from you was bound to make you a little dramatic.

Harry and Ron played wizards chest to my right as we waited, but it was clear neither of them were into it. Ginny was a year too young to be matched meaning Harry was -once again- up for grabs. His dark hair dropped like soggy puppy ears as he realized that whatever fantasy he entertained would never come to fruition.

Several hours passed before the cross examination was finished. Most of us had fallen asleep on the tables as it was now a quarter past 2am. If anything could have waited until tomorrow this was definitely it.

"These matches are magically binding and all who refuse to cooperate will have their wands snapped and be admitted to Azkaban."

The outrage at that caused the minister to step backwards. Ignoring it, he pulled the parchment from the podium top.

"It may seem cruel now, but this will all be for the better." When no one argued he began reading, "Hannah Abbot/Ernie MacMiller," I waited patiently for my name to arise. "Bethany French/Drake Trink, Grenadine Gas/ Dean Thomas," his words got stuck somewhere in his throat when he got to my name. I watched him mouth my name several times, before he spit it out, "Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy." He was out of his seat before I could object. I fumbled behind him pulling my wand from my waist band.

The time had come. I'd curse Kingsley before I ever shared a name with that foul ferret.

"Retest!" He demanded. Then more menacingly he added, "now." Instead of doing it himself the minister offered him the stacks of tests.

"Your answers are nearly identical where it counts." McGonagall sighed. She came down to meet us and placed a hand on my shoulder, "I know this is the last thing either of you wanted, but please," she paused to took between us before continuing, "sit back down." There was a force in her words. I fell into my seat knocked off kilter by her insistence.

It was as if the rebellion had been knocked free from my spirit. He sagged on the opposite side of the table glaring dangerously at the stack of tests before him. I watched him rifle through the stack until he happened upon what he wanted. His own test was discarded as he went over mine.

Our answers were nothing alike. While I said I'd use my magic to save the entirety of the school he scribbled that he'd save himself. The only thing that matched -even in the slightest was question 12; do you regret your stance in the war? I'd answered definitely not. I could never regret fighting for innocent lives, but he's written 'yes'. He flipped through my answers with disgust sneering whenever he felt me watching.

"They're lunatics," he decided, "we're as opposite as muggle born and pure blood." Pissed, he stood and stomped the the door, "my father will surely hear about this!"

With his parting words he'd gone and I was free to slump into my seat. Harry was trying his darndest to console me, but in the end we were all in this mess together.