I am getting a serious kick out of labeling these chapters. You'll see why when you get to chapter four—"Practical Application."
1
Preliminary Research
It was a cool, sunny September afternoon, two days after Weasley Sunday lunch, when Percy and Hermione walked out into Diagon Alley, heading toward the Leaky Cauldron. They were to meet a couple of friends in a nearby Muggle café for coffee and a bit of a chat—away from prying magical eyes and ears. One pair of eyes and ears, however, could not be shaken off.
"Fred, honestly, I'll see you at dinner, you don't need to come with us," insisted Hermione, scowling a bit as Fred held her tighter to his side.
"Right now, your separation anxiety rivals Ron's when he was two," said Percy, wincing as Fred threw his arm over his shoulder and tugged him to his other side.
Fred, happy to be sandwiched between his brother and his Hermione (because that's what they were to each other—each other's), only tugged them closer so they could hear his low tone.
"It's not a matter of separation anxiety, darlings," he said. "It's a matter of me not wanting to be in the same vicinity as my lovestruck, hormonal twin and his girlfriend, who unfortunately happens to be our new employee."
"That's not a good enough excuse to bring you along," said Percy.
Fred eyed him pointedly, squeezing just a bit tighter. "Just like how cauliflower isn't a good enough excuse to elope for Mum."
Hermione hid her smile by ducking her head and pretending to adjust the hem of her blouse. Percy huffed, and she could practically hear him rolling his eyes.
"Very well," he said as pompously as ever, shrugging off Fred's arm and leading them into the café.
"I reckon this little meeting isn't as confidential as you made it out to be if I can so easily crash it," said Fred, relaxing his hold on Hermione but still not letting go.
"It's confidential if you're not in the Order of the Phoenix," muttered Hermione softly, so only Fred could hear.
Fred straightened up slightly, expression taking a serious shift. "Is that why you and Poncy were shooting each other furtive looks at lunch?"
Hermione frowned at his tone. "You noticed?"
"My skin crawls when your attention isn't focused on me."
"You're ridiculous, Fred."
"You live for my ridiculousness"
"As a matter of fact, a part of me dies every time it comes up."
"I know what else can come up that would guarantee la petit mort."
Hermione stopped in the middle of the street to just look at Fred, her blank expression telling him so much. He only laughed. He wisely let the subject drop for the time being. He released Hermione's shoulder to take her hand and slide his fingers between hers.
The way his big, warm hands wrapped around hers had Hermione focusing on the way her feet moved, one in front of the other, to let her hair curtain the fierce blush that made her light outfit feel like a parka and thermals in the middle of July. Fred squeezed her hand, and when she looked up, he winked with a sweet smile. He didn't let go of her hand until they reached the Muggle café, where two familiar faces were already waiting for them. Kingsley and Ron greeted the trio before settling down and calling over a waitress.
The Minister of Magic ordered a frappe and seemed to enjoy it. The Assistant to the Minister took a tentative drink of his latte and promptly and discreetly spat it back into the cup. The Auror took a happy sip of his mocha. The Unspeakable wrapped her hands around a mug of lemon-ginger tea and took a deep breath. The other half of the most successful pair of entrepreneurs during and after the war took a long draw from his chocolate and vanilla milkshake and then grimaced at the resulting brain freeze.
"This isn't natural," said Kingsley once Hermione put up a strong Muffliato around their table.
"Do you think it's a spell?" asked Percy, pushing his glasses up his nose and nudging the latte away.
"If it is, it's a kind one," said Hermione. "So far, the people who seem to be affected have found legitimate, compatible matches. It's not just a flimsy attraction."
"Weird and random as they may be, I'd say these could really last," agreed Percy.
Ron eyed him suspiciously. "You would hope so—you just got married and all."
"I don't fall within the parameters of this discussion," said Percy, sitting up straighter in the cushioned wicker chair. "I've been seeing Audrey since before the Battle of Hogwarts. This…phenomenon has only been going for the last six months."
"But what has caused this alleged phenomenon?" asked Kingsley. "As pleased as I am that the people are finding love, the amount who've found it staggering. I've seen the numbers—marriages are at a record high. Let's not mention the amount of affection plastered all over everyone up and down the streets of Diagon Alley. It's like bloody Valentine's Day every day."
"Should we be looking a gift dragon in the mouth?" asked Ron.
Fred smirked behind his milkshake. "Asks one of the first to be affected in the group."
Ron reared back, affronted. "Excuse me! I always thought Luna was beautiful!"
"You always thought she was pretty and pretty damn weird," countered Fred.
Hermione shrugged. "It wasn't until three months ago that you began to express an interest."
"About the same time you practically gave us a lesson about umbigular slashkillers," added Fred.
"Umgubular slashkilters," corrected Ron, ears pink. "And that's beside the point. If you're going to call my relationship into question. I'm redirecting the Lumos on you two." He motioned to Fred and Hermione with a petulant scowl and a raised eyebrow.
The two barely glanced at each other.
"Nothing to question," said Fred simply.
Hermione nodded in agreement. "And if there was, the answer would be irrefutable."
Absolutely baffled with their responses, implied or explicit, Ron could only blink and gape. Unable to pursue the direction, Ron shook his head. "Anyway, I don't feel spelled, and as random as you all think my feelings are, I distinctly remember when I thought of Luna as more than a friend. It wasn't anything like that incident with Amortentia in sixth year, where I was thinking of chocolate, and suddenly the image of a bon-bon in my head morphed into Romilda Vane's face."
Hermione winced, and Fred cringed and shuddered.
"This couldn't be the work of any lingering followers of You-Know-Who, right?" asked Percy. "In order to…repopulate the Wizarding community after the war?"
"No, it couldn't be," said Hermione. "Muggleborns and half-bloods are pairing up with purebloods—take Dean Thomas and Daphne Greengrass."
"Seamus Finnegan and Pansy Parkinson," added Ron, shaking his head in disbelief. "Still can't believe the world hasn't imploded."
"It's practically sacrilege in Voldemort's eyes," said Hermione. "I doubt they'd have any hand in this."
"Still can't discount Dark wizard involvement," said Kingsley. "They might not be as discriminatory as Voldemort. They could temporarily suspend their dogma for the sake of repopulation. Voldemort sympathizers could procreate and rear the next generation in the beliefs of the Dark Lord."
"But they'd be half-bloods," said Hermione. "That's counterintuitive."
"And literally counter-productive," added Fred.
"They might not be You-Know-Who sympathizers," said Ron, rubbing the scruff on his jaw contemplatively. "They could be Dark wizards with their own agendas. There's no denying that there's got to be some sort of magic afoot, but whether it's Light or Dark remains to be seen."
Hermione sighed, leaned back in her chair, and took a sip of her tea. "I'm dubious about anything that tampers with people's free will—no, Ron, I know you fell in love with Luna. I don't doubt that. I don't doubt the sincerity between all the matches that we've seen and probably have yet to see. But the fact that it's genuine affection at all is what worries me. Any sort of magic that affects people on such a deep level is not to be trifled with."
"Should we end it then?" asked Fred, leaning forward and steepling his fingers seriously. The position would've been more imposing if he wasn't resting the straw to his milkshake on his lips. "Find out what started this and stop it?"
"That," said Kingsley, "is the second-most important question to be asked. Look, the statistics have showed a severe decrease in population. We lost many during the war, and the subsequent year saw us chasing down Voldemort sympathizers. People weren't ready to start a family if they were too afraid of some other Dark wizard coming."
"What are you implying?" asked Ron, narrowing his eyes.
"I'm saying that we were extremely worried about the Wizarding community of Great Britain dying out," said Kingsley. "Short of seducing people from foreign magical communities to emigrate and strengthen the bloodlines, members of the Wizengamot began to toss up ideas of a Marriage Law."
"What?!" shrieked Ron, nearly knocking over his precious drink.
"Because forcing people to get married is definitely a great atmosphere to raise children," said Fred blandly.
"It would've been supplemented by spells to find the people's most compatible matches based on personal preferences, genetic suitability, and demographic details," said Percy. "For all intents and purposes, it was a program for people to find their soul mates."
"No, Percy," said Hermione, "it was a breeding program. I heard rumors of a spawn deadline."
"Excuse me, a what now?" asked Fred, voice skipping an octave.
"A spawn deadline," repeated Hermione. "It's an allotted period in which you would be required to produce a child."
"Who's on the Wizengamot again? Ronald, your list of Dark wizards grows," said Fred darkly. "I should send them care packages."
And by "care packages" he probably meant boxes of cruel and vindictive pranks best suited for revenge. Hermione only had to set her hand on Fred's for his shoulders to relax exponentially.
"It only went as far as a verbalized idea," assured Kingsley, though he didn't look any less displeased. "Many had grown desperate in the face of the data. We asked the Department of Mysteries in the Love Offices to look into spells that would aid in finding true love or the closest to it. We understood the moral problem of trying to force people together for the sake of reproduction, but I don't think you truly understand how dire the situation was. Birth rates were low even before the war—interbreeding amongst the purebloods, discrimination and prejudices that pushed Muggleborns back into the Muggle society and away from the Wizarding community…"
Grimacing, Percy shrugged. "The government was trying to play matchmaker."
Fred sneered. "Yes, matchmakers to brood mares because that's what the populace basically was, right?"
Ron sighed and ran his hands down his face. "Glad to see the Ministry is consistent—even if it's at coming up with shite ideas."
"You can imagine the mixture of relief and worry I have about this whole love-is-in-the-air business," said Kingsley. "Birth rates, marriage rates, bloody rates of happiness—I want to let it go and call it a blessing, but if this is someone's handiwork, we must find out who's behind it and why."
"What's the plan then?" asked Ron.
"You and Percy go about your business," said Kingsley. "Percy, you'll be my ears throughout the Ministry—you and Ron. If you hear any word of a mass love spell or anything even remotely related to this, I want to know. We're keeping this strictly within the order."
"I've already been doing research on anything that could compel a person to find their soul mate or some variation," said Hermione, sighing wearily. "It mirrors what we were trying to do for that Marriage Law foolishness, but…well, I'll try to figure something out."
Kingsley nodded. His eyes shifted onto Fred and he frowned slightly, puzzled. "Fred, why are you here?"
Fred shrugged. "Moral support."
Kingsley hid a smile. "Well, you can morally and physically support Hermione in the research process—if that means reading and carrying books and being her guinea pig, so be it."
"I've been her bitch for years, I don't see any problem with this arrangement."
"Fred!"
Ron sighed. "I'm going to need another drink." He stood and picked up Kingsley's cup too. "You're gonna need another one of these too. Trust me."
Hermione closed the book with a soft thud and dropped her head onto the table with a loud thunk. It'd been three days since the meeting in the Muggle café, and she'd lost track of how long she'd been cooped up in the library of Grimmauld Place. She'd compiled as much information about love spells, love charms, and love potions as she could, but so far, she hadn't come up with any theory sufficient to explain what she now deemed the "Matchmaker Phenomenon."
She'd been part of the team assigned to make the potential Marriage Law more palatable, so she already had the pertinent information. However, the pertinent information still left her with the same problem she'd had when the Marriage Law was still anywhere near the table.
Thinking that perhaps time and distance from the issue would give her a fresh perspective for something new to crop up, she assembled new and old research in Number Twelve's library. "Assembled," however, was being used loosely in that context. Books that weren't open on every available surface were stacked on the floor, hip-high, and standard rolls of parchment were mixed with Muggle notebook paper. Scattered throughout the books and sheaves of paper were fine strands of curly, brown hair—the primary indicator that Hermione was truly reaching a point of manic obsession. Her frustration showed in the way she'd been constantly combing her fingers through her hair, and her stress showed in the way she pulled her hands away with one or two strands tangled between her fingers. It wasn't even that the situation was extremely dire and she was desperate to solve it for the sake of both man and wizard-kind. It was because she was so painfully at a loss for an explanation.
She was pitifully yanking out a stray hair from between the pages of a nearby book, her cheek resting on the cool wood of the table, when someone knocked on the door.
"No, Ginny!" she called, knowing exactly who it was and exactly why she was being disturbed despite her explicit instruction otherwise.
"See, that's usually what I'd say when I catch my baby sister and Potter in a compromising position," said Fred, somehow managing to undo the wards on the door. She stopped questioning it a year ago. Fred had a knack for always managing to take down her wards. There had to be a metaphor for their relationship in there, but that was beside the point. "Didn't you hear me yowling at them earlier? Caused me actual, physical pain, Herms! I'm bloody scarred for life—only I've got a boy with a lightning scar's arse imprinted across my corneas instead of an actual lightning scar across my forehead."
Fred hip-bumped the door open so hard it rebounded off the wall and nearly upset the two dinner plates he carried in his hands. He winked at Hermione, who lifted her head and rolled her eyes, as he skirted his way around the minefield of books.
"Do you have any idea how difficult it is to threaten your sister's boyfriend when he's bloody immortal?" Fred continued to rant as he sauntered up to her, dropped a kiss on top of her head, set one of the plates in front of her, and presented her with the silverware he'd shoved into his back pocket. "I mean, he looked sufficiently terrified when I told him to stuff his knob back in his trousers before I cursed that wood to be real and make them feel how awkward it is when someone walks in to see a pair trying to prematurely branch out the family tree—"
Hermione choked on the first spoonful of corn. "Fred!"
"Sorry, love. So he looked scared and all, but really, there's not much I can threaten him with," he continued, unperturbed as he set his plate down next to her and pulled up a stool so they were practically hip-to-hip. "I could pelt him with Avada after Avada, but he'd probably come out of it with another equally badass scar like the outline of a dragon on his right arse-cheek or something."
She snorted into her potatoes, and Fred grinned at her, brown eyes warm and happy.
"Before we met him, George and I speculated what would've happened if we Avada-ed each other. We really wanted cool scars on our arses."
Thankfully, Hermione hadn't put anything in her mouth when he'd said that. "That's horrible!"
"No, you know what's horrible?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "The fact that you've been working in here since the crack of dawn, and do you know what time it is?"
Hermione glanced at the clock and realized…there was no clock. "Er, no."
"Half-past obsessed," he deadpanned. "If you'd bothered to open the curtains, you'd see it's night. Have you eaten at all?"
Hermione forked up a piece of the roast chicken. "Yes," she mumbled. "I brought up some toast for lunch."
"You mean that flat, square-shaped, brown paperweight on the other side of the table whose corner crust has been nibbled off? That's lunch for a gnat, not a human being."
Hermione sighed and swallowed the food in her mouth. "I've been a bit preoccupied."
Fred looked around at the mountain range of books. "Hadn't noticed." He nudged her plate, a gesture to keep eating. "Listen, Hermy, darling—"
"Don't call me that."
"'Mione, dear."
"I'd really rather you say my entire name rather than half of it at a time."
"'Mione-Herm, my love."
"Honestly." Hermione rolled her eyes but couldn't hide a small smile that had Fred's grin growing wider.
"So how goes the research process, darling?" he asked. "Not developing a hidden agenda to utilize one of these spells to seduce me, are you?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, the corners of her mouth curling. "I'm not trying to seduce you."
"Good," said Fred, twirling his fork between his fingers as he fixed her with a pointed look, "because that'd be wasted efforts. All you'd have to do is breathe."
Blushing furiously, Hermione focused on her green beans.
It'd been like this for a while now. Could it be because of the Matchmaker Phenomenon? Perhaps. But if she was truthful with herself, this had started not too long after the Battle of Hogwarts, when Fred came out of his explosion-induced coma with a new lease on life. He became increasingly affectionate with her, and she slowly stopped shaking him off. Hermione had long-since stopped denying the fact that every time he touched her, her heart raced fasted than the beat of a snitch's wings.
Her relationship with Ron had thankfully petered out, back into the friendship it'd been for so many years. They'd both amicably parted without any lingering romantic inclinations toward each other. Ron had eventually and enthusiastically skipped into Luna's embrace, and Fred's arms seemed to trap her often enough for it to be common occurrence at this point. The rest of the Weasleys no longer questioned it; Ron had been the first one to explicitly bring it up at the café.
That didn't stop her from wondering how much of Fred's initial affections remained now in the presence of this unknown magic. That didn't stop her from worrying whether or not her own feelings were in reaction to his own, fostered by the unknown magic from pre-existence fondness, or genuine, organic romantic inclinations.
"You just went quiet. I don't like quiet." He froze. "Oh, Godric. You said you weren't seducing me, but you never said anything about seducing someone else. Are you trying to get George to join our fun? It's kind of you to include my twin and all, but I think that's a cup of tea he and I wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole."
She choked on the green bean she'd just shoved in her mouth and spluttered, "Fred!"
He laughed and tugged one of her curls, grinning. He dropped a kiss on her cheek, and motioned for her to eat. They sat in companionable silence, occasionally and playfully bumping each other with elbows and sly smiles.
"So what've you been looking at all day?" asked Fred once they'd cleared through half their plates.
Hermione swallowed her mouthful and pulled her research closer. "Well, the Biological Compatibility Charm employs the caster's own hormones to attract the person who reacts most viscerally to them. The Ensynastic Spell puts the caster and the target in the same emotional state of mind to form a stronger emotional bond to facilitate a relationship. Lastly, Amortentia induces a potent infatuation, though it could have roots in genuine affection when directed at the right person—evidenced by the varying scents a person finds upon inhalation. The charm is physical, the spell emotional, and the potion preferential."
Fred looked over the texts and then her notes. "But?"
"But none of these and none of the lesser love charms were anywhere close to fitting the criteria of this Matchmaker Phenomenon." Hermione motioned to the mountain range of books around her. "Even when combining all three, with even a few extra spells thrown in the mix to fill in the gaps, could the effects mirror what seems to be naturally occurring. No spell is subtle enough, no potion that could affect at a spiritual level."
Fred frowned. "So everyone just seems to be…falling in love…naturally…at the same time."
Hermione shrugged helplessly and forked up a potato. "If it weren't for the fact that it's all happening within this relatively short space of time, I would say that people have managed to completely re-evaluate their lives, pull their heads out of their arses, and find real, genuine love. No magical tampering."
Fred tapped his lip with his fork, frowning into the distance. "And you said you combined love spells with other non-love spells?"
"Yes, to either dampen some of the effects to make it more natural or to emphasize other aspects to ensure a perfect match," answered Hermione disappointedly. "The theory makes sense, but—"
"—but the reality is more disappointing than Ron's inability to talk to beautiful women," finished Fred, nodding.
Hermione blinked. "Not quite the phrasing I'd use, but sure."
"Have you considered that it could be an original spell?" asked Fred, looking rightly concerned.
Hermione nodded and swallowed another mouthful of food before replying, "I did, but the major issue with my research so far is that everything I've put on the table is fundamentally magical. Everything simply sets up the circumstances for love, not love itself the way we're seeing or feeling it."
Fred's frown cleared, and he nodded understandingly. "Yeah, yeah. You're talking about the fundamental laws of magic—can't bring people back from the dead and can't make anyone fall in love with anyone else."
"Exactly," sighed Hermione, scraping up the last of her food. "Either we're going to have to chalk it up to genuinely natural phenomenon or concede that everyone who's fallen in love, gotten engaged, and gotten married recently are under a spell, falsifying the effects of what they think is true love."
Fred tapped his fork on his now-empty plate, studying her quietly. "Hermione."
She didn't look up. "Hm?"
"You're doubting this, aren't you?" he asked softly, putting his fork down and turning around in his seat so his legs were on either side of her. He motioned between the two of them with a finger. "This little dance we've been doing?"
Hermione put her fork down and scratched her eyebrow, turning to face him, though not quite as head-on as he'd positioned himself. "Fred—"
"I can see it in your eyes, love. You're a shit actress and you're a shit liar too. So let me assure you now that this has been going on for years, and if there's been any love spell interference lately, it's only served to amplify what's been there all along, all right? So don't you dare start getting nervous about the legitimacy of what's going on between us."
Hermione couldn't hold it back any more—the incandescently happy grin stretched across her face, and whatever bone-weary tiredness, which had begun to fade when Fred walked in, disappeared completely. He grinned back and laced his fingers with hers, lifting her hand to kiss her knuckles.
"Have you talked to anyone else about this?" asked Fred. "Your Love Bug Phenomenon-thing."
"Matchmaker Phenomenon," she corrected him. "And, no, I haven't."
"'Love Bug' sounds better. Darling, have you even contemplated going to Hogwarts?" asked Fred, lips turning up.
Hermione frowned and eyed him warily. "No, why?"
Fred chuckled, shaking his head as he stood and picked up his and Hermione's empty plates. "Come on, Nee-Nee, love. Go to bed. We're going to Hogwarts tomorrow, and I'm going to show you exactly how to utilize the world's best untapped resource."
