Hermione was one of the first few students to arrive in the Great Hall the next morning, the time being well before most of the castle was awake. After her nightmare had awoken her at a little after midnight, she once again endured the remainder of the night in frustrated unrest. Since the summer holiday, it had been a regular occurrence for her dreams and night terrors to keep her awake nightly. She could only average one or two hours of sleep per night, which had her glamoring the bags beneath her eyes every day.

Sitting in her usual spot along the Griffindor table, she let out an exhausted sigh, blinking several times to help her focus. Glancing at the breakfast foods spread out before her, her stomach gave a heaving surge, immediately rejecting the idea of eating. That had also been a regular occurrence since the summer – not eating. She had tried as much as she could, but almost everything she ate came back up. Nothing smelled appetizing to her anymore, and anything she ate just tasted like sand, grainy and dry. Just to keep herself from falling out, Hermione had resorted to taking several supplements to make up for her lack of intake. However, the supplements only went so far, and the negative effects had caused her to lose a substantial amount of weight. The most she could do was layer up her clothing to try and avoid suspicion.

Having decided against trying to eat, Hermione pulled out her copy of The Standard Book of Spells: Year 7 to pass the time as she waited for others to arrive. She had been sitting there for nearly an hour studying Bubble-Head charms before others began showing up. Ginny popped in first, looking thoroughly chipper for such an early hour.

Having actually attended Hogwarts the year Lord Voldemort had tried to take over and not going into hiding like most, Ginny and other select students were given the chance to take their end of year exams late and still have the opportunity to progress to the next year. Ginny had done well with her exams (despite the condition Hogwarts had been in during her sixth year), so she was moved up to her seventh and final year, sharing a couple of classes with Hermione. The school had closed down for the one year following the battle, the damage to the castle being quite extensive. That left Hermione at twenty years of age, and still trying to finish school.

Harry and Ron, however, were different stories.

After the final battle, the two boys decided against returning to finish their schooling, opting instead to work with the new Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt, rounding up all the stray and leftover Death Eaters. Minister Kingsley had no qualms about letting the two become Aurors, though they still had to take classes at the Ministry to become certified. Lucky for Harry, he still had Grimmauld Place, which he and Ron had officially moved into. On the down side, it left Hermione with only Luna, Neville and Ginny as comrades in the school. Sure, most everyone was friendly to her, but mainly because of her involvement with the downfall of a certain dark wizard.

"You already ate?" Ginny asked with an eyebrow slightly raised as she sat across from Hermione, noticing the absence of used dishes. She didn't even have a goblet of pumpkin juice.

Hermione didn't remove her eyes from her book as she nodded, determined to have the charm memorized perfectly. Ginny had no idea of Hermione's issues, and she wasn't going to bother her friend with all of her problems, so it was simply easier to let her assume.

Neville showed up next, sitting in his usual spot next to Hermione. Though Hermione didn't talk with them much anymore, her friends were kind of use to it anyway. It wasn't unusual for her to have her nose shoved in a book. By that point, however, Hermione had stopped reading, her mind drifting back to her nightmare. She found herself zoning out a lot more, and her memories and thoughts plagued her relentlessly, no matter how hard she tried to distract herself.

It took the owl post arriving through the Great Hall to bring her back to Earth. A rather flustered looking plain brown tawny owl landed in front of her with her issue of The Daily Prophet. Depositing a knut it the creature's pouch, Hermione grabbed her paper before the owl took off, barely clearing Ginny's flaming ginger hair.

Spreading the enchanted newspaper in front of her on the table, she began scanning it thoroughly. Since June, the editors had finally picked up on publishing real news, but none of it seemed very good. Sometimes a couple of Death Eaters were caught, but most of the time there were reports of suspected Death Eater rituals, complete with mangled sacrificed bodies. Several people speculated that the former followers of Lord Voldemort were trying to bring him back, but Hermione only scoffed at their naivety. After everything she had gone through two years before (and basically her entire Hogwarts career), she had no doubts that the evil that was Tom Riddle was finally diminished.

Scanning the front of the paper lazily at first, it only took her two seconds to gasp at the headline she read.

"Newly Passed Marriage Law: Anyone Above 17 Years of Age."

"What?!" Hermione exclaimed loudly. Ginny and Neville looked up, quite obviously surprised by her outburst.

Hermione ignored their incredulous stares as she read on through the article.

"According to Code 1027, in the event that the magical population greatly depletes due to war, famine, infertility, etc… every person over the adult age of consent (17) must be wed to maintain the quota of childbirth.

For more information, see page 7-C."

Hermione felt herself slightly numb at what she read. It didn't seem right. It didn't seem reasonable. She began to feel quite nauseated as she considered what all it could mean, and it didn't take long for her to start feeling like her head was spinning. Ginny and Neville gaped openly at Hermione's hysterically calm demeanor.

After another solid minute of digesting what she had just read, Hermione snapped to and began desperately tearing through the rest of the paper, searching for 7-C.

"Code 1027: Marriage Law Defined.

According to Code 1027Q, under the Statute of Magical Population Control of 1662, in the event that the magical population depletes more than 50% within a ten year span due to war, famine, infertility, etc… every witch and wizard over the adult age of consent (17) must be wed to a person of opposite gender and blood status (as in muggleborns may not marry other muggleborns, half-bloods may not marry other half-bloods, and pure-bloods may not marry other pure-bloods) to maintain the quota of childbirth to ensure the future of the magical race. All eligible wizards must petition within 30 days for whom he wishes to marry. The petitioned-for witch has the remainder of the 30 days to choose which wizard she deems suitable. The ceremony must ensue within one (1) week of final decision.

Failure to comply to the law's demands shall result in either a sentence to Azkaban (circumstances may allow different imprisonment periods) or a Ministry elected mate. The Ministry will pull a mate from one of the witch's suitors, if one has been proposed, if the suitor is not already wed to another. A petition shall be placed concerning each witch's suitor, and each suitor must petition for a witch.

The hour Code 1027 comes in to effect, a letter shall arrive to each eligible and available wizard in request to begin petitioning for the witches they deem suitable to their likings.

Special exceptions to this law are as follows:

Widowers

Any persons above the verified age of 75

Infertile men or women

Currently married persons

Divorced persons with children under the age of 17

A child must be conceived within one year's time. Consummation of the wedding night is essential, as is repeated attempts at conception at least once per week until a child is borne or either party is deemed infertile by a certified Healer. Divorces may only be complied with if such happenings occur. For no reason whatsoever may any other couple be divorced. For further inquiries on the matter of Code 1027, send an owl to the Magical Inquiries Department located at the Ministry of Magic."

Hermione sat there, dumbstruck and in shock. It wasn't possible. It just didn't seem possible. It all just couldn't be true. She had her entire life ahead of her, she was going to do great things in her time.

Now it was gone.

All gone.

Her archaic government was basically selling her into sexual slavery. She was going to be shoved into a marriage with only-God-knows-who just for the sake of copulation and repopulating. She was going to be forced to give up her life because of all the Pure-Blooded Madness that had occurred. Pure bloods were known to have very few magical offspring, centuries of inbreeding lowering the birthrate so much that families were lucky if they got at least one child that wasn't a squib. Yes, the Weasleys were pure bloods and had several magical offspring, but from Hermione's observations of their family tree, their married relatives were paired with very distant cousins at best.

The letter. If the Code had already come in to effect, the boys in the Great Hall would have received their letters. Slowly, she looked up at her two friends, her eyes perpetually horrified. Both Ginny and Neville looked concernedly at her. A slight relief washed over her as she saw that Neville had no letter, but her joy was short-lived as dozens of owls came flocking in the Great Hall, assorting letters to all of the eligible bachelors in the school. A few letters were dropped at each House table and a single owl drifted to where the staff dined. Neville nervously took his letter warily as Hermione looked on, stuck in shock. The seventh year males (and some sixth year) had all received their instructions. She looked up at the staff table. The single owl that had approached the staff table had delivered a letter to Professor Snape, who looked positively furious.

Hermione dazedly looked around at the seventh year girls. Some were crying and clinging to their friends, clutching the article tightly in their fists. Others were giddy with excitement, hugging and kissing their boyfriends, glad to already have someone to petition for them that they knew and loved.

Once again, Hermione turned her gaze upon Neville. He had his letter, opened and read in his hands. His expression was of utmost horror, which slowly transformed into red embarrassment as his duties as a husband dawned on him. Ginny had grabbed the newspaper from Hermione and was reading the article with a ghastly pale facial expression.

Hermione couldn't process what was happening and what it all meant. It was too much for her to think about. Trying not to let the tears escape her eyes, Hermione didn't say a word as she grabbed her bag and took off out of the Great Hall as quickly as she could.

xxxxx

The news of the marriage law spread like water from a hurricane as the entire school became frantic. Later information announced the law was to be put into effect for five years, elaborating that all of the magical population that would turn of age within that five year period was going to be applied to the law. That being so, more than half the school was affected, which resulted in all classes for the day being canceled due to emotional duress of the students. Madam Pomfrey was in over-drive with students seeking or being forced to consume calming draughts, as was Professor Snape having to brew the remedies. The girls were distraught at the thought of bearing children within a year's time, and the boys were angry at losing their "freedom". The marriage law that was meant to save the magical world was making Hogwarts crumble.

In her dorm's personal bathroom, Hermione sat curled up at the bottom of her shower, letting scalding hot water cascade over her reddened form. She had been there for a couple of hours, dully thankful for the magic that allowed the hot water to keep on flowing. She had hoped it would help her to feel. Feel something. Feel anything. Since she had fled the Great Hall that morning, she couldn't bring herself out of her numbed stupor, so she opted for a mind-cleansing shower. However, she had become so deeply entrenched in her thoughts, she still couldn't feel the boiling water splashing her raw form. Becoming more and more frustrated over those two hours, Hermione finally shut off the water and wrapped her almost emaciated body with a towel, shuffling back into her room like a zombie. After drying herself and her hair, she pulled on her robe slowly and sat on the edge of her bed, not sure what to do. Different scenarios kept running through her mind, each depicting the different kinds of husbands she might be forced to be with. Would it be someone intelligent? Would it be a former Death Eater (you know, the ones who talked their way out of Azkaban)? Would it be a classmate? What if it wasn't? What if she had to leave school? The questions kept piling higher and higher and she wasn't seeing any way out.

What if her new husband was a rapist? What if he was a murderer?

That last thought seemed to jerk her out of her reverie with frantic fear. Without even really considering the repercussions, Hermione snatched open her bedside table and shuffled about the contents. Becoming frustrated at the lack of finding what she needed, she pulled the drawer out completely and dumped the innards on the floor. Slipping off the bed and kneeling beside the mess, she filed through the junk until her finger caught something sharp. She gasped, but knew she had found what she was looking for.

Picking up the small piece of metal, she stared at it with wet eyes. Its sharp blade glinted with the dancing of the fire in the grate, and it mesmerized her with the malice of thousands of drops of blood shed by it. Scrambling up onto the bed, her finger now bleeding freely from the cut, she settled back onto the pillows and took back a sob. Her head was spinning. She rolled up the left sleeve of her robes, revealing numerous scars, some old, some new, criss-crossing all the way up the length of her thin forearm. She positioned the sleeve right behind the crook of her elbow where the joint held it in place. Taking the blade and pressing it to the tender skin in the center of her arm, she made a final thought before taking her relief.

'If this isn't the death of me, the law will be.'

Holding the blade more firmly to her arm, she dragged it diagonally upwards a few inches, gasping at the sensation. Blood pooled immediately in the dip of her arm and she could feel nor think of anything except the pain in her arm that was causing the relief of her mind. Her worries were forgotten, yet she kept in mind all of those young women who were going to suffer ruthlessly in the near future. The blood dribbled down and onto her clothes, staining them. A little bit dripped onto the bed, staining the crushed green velvet cover. She repeated the same motion again about two inches higher, and again, higher than the last. She stopped at the fifth one and laid there, enjoying the dead-to-the-world feeling.

xxxxx

There was dried blood smeared all over herself and the bed by the time Hermione woke up the next morning. She knew she had almost lost control the night before, but she managed to sate herself. Though, she wasn't entirely sure she was very happy that she didn't lose control. She grabbed her wand off the nightstand and conjured bandages that burst from the tip and wrapped themselves firmly around her gashes. She sat up further on the bed and pointed her wand at her mess.

"Scourgify!"