Thirty days was a long time to come to terms with the end of your life. At least, that what the Ministry of Magic thought. Thirty days. Seven hundred and twenty hours. Forty-three thousand, two hundred minutes. The counting gave her something to think about besides her fate.
Hermione didn't like being told who she could and couldn't marry. She didn't like being singled out because of her muggle birth. Unfortunately, the Ministry didn't care about her likes and dislikes and had passed the Unification and Birthrate Stimulus Law, which was a fancy way of saying "Pure-bloods are losing their magic. Bollocks, now what?"
The parchment had arrived that morning, carried by a pompous-looking black Ministry owl. Hermione had read it, stopped, read it again, rubbed her eyes, and promptly dropped the letter on the living room floor of her parents' home before fleeing upstairs to her room. When she had calmed down enough to show her face again, her parents were talking in low voices.
"Did you read it, Jane?" Her father's soft baritone was clearly heard from Hermione's perch on the stairs.
"No, but you're pale enough that I'm not sure I want to." Her mother was already close to tears, from the sound of it. Hermione sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her dad was being frighteningly calm, which meant he was furious. Her mother would be in hysterics if she read the damn thing.
She emerged from the stairwell with a subdued air. "It's from the Ministry of Magic."
Jane Granger looked up. "Oh, no..." she whispered, "You're just as pale as your father. Please, just tell me what's in the letter so I'll stop worrying!"
"Mum, I'm being forced to marry."
Jane's shriek of indignation was heard two houses away.
"Cow Tails."
With a creak and a groan, the stairs began to move and Severus Snape swept into the Headmaster's office. Black robes sweeping wide enough to knock several of Dumbledore's gadgets off their shelves, he crossed his arms and snarled. "What on earth could be so important that you've removed me from my summertime research at eleven in the evening?"
Dumbledore didn't say a word, but simply gestured toward a seat and offered him a lemon drop. The twinkle was disturbingly absent from his eyes. "Sit."
The flock of owls that arrived at the Burrow was startling to say the least. When a single black bird perched in front of each and every Weasley child, Molly sighed. "I had hoped they wouldn't go through with it."
Ginny opened hers with confusion. "But I'm not going to be of age for another year!" Her eyes shot across the parchment, moving faster with each line. Soon, even her freckles were pale. "I'm an exception to the age limitation because of my unusually high OWL scores in my year," she said tonelessly. Her face pinched and she bolted from the room, muttering about feeling sick.
"Boy, what did I say about these ruddy birds?!"
Harry sighed and pulled the letter from the black owl. Uncle Vernon was in top bellowing form today.
The Ministry seal caught his attention. Oh, dear lord. What had they done to him this time?
The black owls flooded the wizarding world that day, carrying a simple but effective missive:
Dear sir or madam,
After much debate, the Ministry of Magic has passed into law the Unification and Birthrate Stimulus Act. This law is such that any witch or wizard between the ages of seventeen and seventy must find a husband or wife within the thirty days after receiving this letter. Those of true wizard birth on both sides for four generations (hereafter referred to as "pure-blooded") may petition for the right to marry any eligible witch or wizard of muggle-born or "half-blood" status. Those who receive their first petition have thirty days from that date to either set a date for marriage (the arrangement for which is outlined in the attached pamphlet) or to turn in their wand and remove themselves from magical society. If more than one petition is received during this period, the petitioned may choose from among them. The couple, after having wed, is then expected to conceive a child within two years of their wedding day.
Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials.
Sincerely,
Tabitha Marigold
Ministry of Magic Birthrate Stimulus Oversight Committee
The Malfoys wasted no time. Draco was penning letters that evening.
Peter Pettigrew was chortling with delight as he pictured capturing a young and attractive bride.
The Weasleys were clustered around Ginny, offering what comfort they could. It wasn't until Ron asked "Hey, has anyone heard from Hermione?" that they realized the scope of this law.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-