A/N: I own nothing but an overactive imagination.

Hermione sat at her kitchen table, staring at the small silver object which would soon seal her fate. Since the Ministry announced the new law, she had screamed, cried, hexed, argued, and researched. Those avenues having now been exhausted, all she had left was hate.

That's how she had come to her current position, glaring at the charmed necklace in front of her, focusing all her energy toward it. She hated it. She hated the obscure abstract shape of the pendant. She hated the dainty chain on which it hung. She hated how it glistened in the light. And she hated what it signified; the end of her ability to choose.

The charm placed on it was the same as every other one the Ministry had forced upon the youth of the wizarding world. Its premise based on the complex connections and law of allegiance and attraction of wandlore.

The wand chooses the wizard. And in a way, her wand would also choose her husband.

That's how it had been explained. Hermione poured over every available text and parchment the Ministry had allowed her to get her hands on in the month leading up to her appointment. The Ministry had created a charm, that combined with each witch or wizard's magical signature, would help them seek out their most compatible match.

They created hundreds of pendants that, once charmed, took on their own unique shape. Each witch and wizard was summoned to confirm their understanding of the law and to infuse the pendant with their magic; A simple tap of their wands was all that was required.

"You trust your wand, don't you Miss Granger? You trust your magic. It is not I who will be choosing your partner." She trusted her magic, she just didn't trust theirs.

Their magic would look for a compatible partner much the same way it found their wand; seeking out those with the most similar personalities and affinities. It would also look for someone who was their magical equal, or someone who's magic would balance their own. As an added benefit of the charm, it would also ensure the match had the highest chances of producing a magical child. The Ministry wasn't looking to create a generation of squibs, after all.

Ludicrous! This was barely a step above Pureblood arranged marriages. Malfoy had even been affronted by this law, and that was really saying something!

It didn't stop there though. The Ministry seemed to have borrowed from multiple existing premises in order to coerce the young into marriage and procreation.

Dolts wouldn't know how to formulate an original idea if their lives depended on it. She huffed.

Taking from the charmed coins used by the Order, each pendant would heat upon nearing its counterpart, growing warmer and warmer as they drew near. It would also cool should the distance between them grow.

It's like a twisted game of hide and seek no one wants to win.

The shrill witch who had been tasked with spearheading the "Magical Matches" as they were being called, had also explained that the charm placed on each pendant incorporated a similar element to that of the Hogwarts sorting hat. As such, each witch and wizard still retained the ability to 'choose' their partner.

Choose. HA! Anyone who believed thay had any choice in this should be committed to St. Mungo's immediately.

Should two parties decide to forgo the search for their "Magical Match" and opt to instead marry each other, the charm would accept and register them as a match.

How generous of them to allow us that 'option.' She had drawled.

Appointments, she was told, would be finalized by 5 PM, at which time all pendants would be activated. With a flourish of her wand, Hermione checked the time. 4:57 PM. She would not put the pendant on a moment before she had to.

Once activated, the pendants could not be removed and would never grow cold, unless the match was out of the country. Even magic such as this could only reach so far.

She pitied the young witches and wizards who might have to travel halfway across the world and marry a stranger. What if they didn't even speak the same language!?

It would be better to marry someone they knew, wouldn't it? A friend. Or perhaps, like her, they would see that as worse; Marrying someone you knew but had no romantic feelings toward and knew you never would. She hadn't been able to bring herself to it a month ago. But that was still a possibility, if this damned thing decided it was so.

She had considered leaving the magical world and living as a Muggle. Being Muggle-born herself, she knew it would be easy for her to assimilate back into the Muggle world. At least physically. But emotionally? She wasn't sure.

Perhaps she could obliviate herself. Have someone provide her and her parents with false memories where they could all be happy; ignorant to any magic other than that they saw on TV. But was that what she really wanted? Could she obliviate her parents AGAIN?

Because each pendant was marked with their magical signature the ministry would know if any witch or wizard failed to put on their necklace. A team of Aurors not subject to the law would be dispatched to retrieve and bring them to the ministry for failure to comply.

Another supposed 'choice.' You didn't HAVE to put it on, but such an act indicated to the Ministry you had chosen not to abide by the law and agreed to having your wand snapped.

Another flourish of her wand. 4:59 PM.

She hoped beyond hope that their magic was flawed; that the charms would not work, thus granting them more time.

Time. There never seemed to be time.

She had almost convinced herself she would feel nothing but coldness, but the moment she slipped the chain around her neck, the pendant trailed along her flesh, and she felt it grow warm, ever so slightly.