Author's note: Don't own this
Hermione hoped this was a joke. But as she gazed out at the serious Headmaster and the solemn professors seated at his side, she had a sinking
feeling that it wasn't. There was no way that this was going to happen. The purebloods would riot. Even after the dark lord had been killed off by
the good side they were still deeply prejudiced. The student body seemed to be in as much of a shock as she was. There was weeping from some
girls, but only a few. Girls like Lavender had their eyes lit up at the thought of marrying into practically royalty. Obviously for the money. Little bitch
probably thinking of having a go at Ron, Hermione thought bitterly. Stunned at her use of language, be it in her head or not, she quickly threw the
thought off. If anything she'd have to settle for Ron if this were to go through. Deep down she knew it wouldn't though. Surely the purebloods
would object strongly. Hermione began to feel a bit relieved until she realized alot of the elder families were in Azkaban. Nearly all had been
deatheaters. The one time deatheaters were useful and they were all locked in Azkaban. Hermione huffed, now bordering on distraught. "As you
may know, Dumbledore continued, the muggle world has a little over 6 billion people. The wizarding world has only slightly over 3 billion. We are
almost down half the population from the muggle world and dwindling. Soon, we may be nothing more than myth for the muggles. Once a great
society brought down by our own hatred of our own kind." The hall of students listened to his speech intently. "You will be reviewed by the ministry
and then matched with a person of a different blood class that as closely fits your needs and wants as possible." The Headmaster straightened up.
"I won't pretend that you will love or ever love whoever it may be that you are matched with. All I am asking is that you do consider, for the sake
of our world, to set aside a bit of your happiness, for the survival of our kind." Dumbledore stepped away. A depressing sort of atmosphere
settled into the houses. A kid to Hermione's far left stood up. "I don't care, my mum is a muggle and i've always done just fine in their world. Im
not taking this!" A 6th year syltherin stood up from the other side of the hall. "Id rather die than touch a mudblood! Screw the wizarding world.
Purebloods are all that matters anyway!" The other Slytherins nodded, while the other tables broke out into indignant protests. A tall black wizard
from Ravenclaw addressed the slytherin. "Well Id rather die than to procreate with my relatives to produce more purebloods, unlike you slytherin,
rather proud you lot are to have your mum also be your cousin eh?" He finished with a grin. Most of the students laughed and congratulated him
on his comeback. The slytherins were quite furious. "Enough!" Came a loud elder voice. It was McGonagall. "I know you kids have alot on your
minds but Please don't resort to insults!" Although this was very real and exploding all around her, Hermione found it hard to focus. "Fancy you
and I get married eh, Hermione." She barely heard Ron's voice across from her. She just needed some time to think. Quietly. Hermione rose from
the table slowly, only to find herself on a heap on the ground. The last thing she heard were Ron and Harry's frightened voices as she drifted off
into the dark. "I think she's waking up!" "Give her room!" Hermione groaned as she opened an eye. The last thing she had remembered was
something about getting married, and then Ron had cracked a joke. His joke really must have been that bad to put me out, she thought.
Hermione glanced around as she recognized Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Luna's faces crowded around above her. "Tell me we aren't all getting
married and this is just a dream." she said, as they helped her up. They all exchanged nervous glances. She moaned in despair, "I'll just go
back to sleep and pretend that it is." "Not necessary, Miss Granger." A voice from the door spoke up. For the first time, Hermione noticed she was
no longer in the cafeteria but in the medical ward at Hogwarts. Minister of magic, Fudge stood at the door. "It's time to discuss your future
marriage." Hermione frowned. She had just fainted and now this man was here to give her a heart attack? "Discuss it with one of them i'm not the
only one here!" She snapped. The others were taken aback, Hermione Granger had never used that tone on a person in charge before. The
minister only raised an eye, However. "Your friends have already been matched, Miss Granger." He replied calmly. She looked at her friends,
confused. "Who are you to marry, Harry?" She questioned. Ginny, at his side, was red faced with pride. "We got matched, Hermione!" She
squealed. For the first time since Dumbledore's announcement, Hermione genuinely smiled. Everyone knew Ginny and Harry belonged together.
"Thats great Ginny!" Hermione's face fell. "Ron." She began nervously. Suddenly, Ron had a hard time meeting her eyes. "We didn't get matched,
did we?" Ron looked apologetic. "I got matched with Lavender." The room was tense as Hermione fought back the urge to cry. She gathered her
strength. "You, luna?" Luna smiled in that dreamy way of hers. "I got Seamus." She said, simply. "Now that you seem to be adjusting I suggest Mr.
Potter and company wait elsewhere while we discuss things, Miss Granger?" Fudge interrupted. Hermione frowned but said her goodbyes to the
others. Now that they were gone Hermione sensed the cold formality in this discussion as it hit her full on. She would never be with Ron. This ass
in front of her would be taking away not only hers but everyone shed known's ability to ever be happy again. She turned a cold eye on him. "This
is not easy for anyone. But you must understand it's for the survival of our world." He began. "Well, get on with it!" She snapped, moodily. His
eyes went slightly wide at her outburst. "Tell me his name already!" Fudge had a hard time believing it was Ms. perfect Granger speaking to him
in such a manner. So did she. "You may find this a bit, hard to accept, but Mr. Malfoy is returning soon so." He trailed off. "What the hell does
Malfoy have to do with anything?" She spat. Fudge looked away. It dawned on her suddenly and quite horribly. "No." Hermione's vision was
swimming as she tried to steady her already fragile form. The minister was suddenly quite interested in something nonexistant as to avoid
looking at her. "No." She said, in a more forceful voice, hoping to break him from his stupid reverie. "You must understand, the Malfoy family is of
an ancient and strong magic. Extremely healthy physical state. And with your exceptional smarts you'd have some of the strongest offspring there
is." Hermione was furious. "You're telling me you're going to breed me for my smarts and him for his stupid arrogant looks?" "Yes." The man stated
calmly. She was stunned. He had just admitted that she was going to be nothing more than a breeder for the rest of her life and he had the nerve
to be calm about it! "Bastard!" Before she could stop it her hand went straight across Fudge's cheek. All was still. Hermione glanced at her hand
in shock. Aside from Malfoy, she had never actually caused physical harm on another person intentionally. She was torn between apologizing and
assaulting him again. Fudge's face turned into a nasty sneer. "Yes, Miss Granger. You are to be Mr Malfoy's breeding tool until the ministry has all
the magical brats that they need!" Hermione took a step back but Fudge continued. "You are to spread your pretty little legs everytime your
husband walks into a room, and spend your days swollen with child laying on a bed for all I care. That's all you're good for now." Hermione's eyes
filled with tears as he finished his tirade. "Malfoy will never agree to this." She said weakly. The man smirked. "He already has." With that he
flung open the door and walked out. A tall figure skirted behind him. Hermione saw a shock of Blond hair well before she could fully
comprehend who it was. Hermione nearly jumped from fright. "Malfoy!" The handsome features of Draco Malfoy lit up into his iconic
cruel smirk. "Granger." He drawled.