A/N: Hello, reader! Thank you for giving my story a try. This is my first real attempt at writing a Harry Potter fanfiction (or any kind of fiction) in roughly 5 years. Any notes, tips, even suggestions would be greatly appreciated!

Happy Reading!

Jos.

George could hear the commotion inside the Burrow before he walked through the door. It was a full table tonight. Percy and Audrey were seated at the table talking to Bill and a pregnant Fleur about their latest venture to Egypt. Charlie, Arthur, and Harry were locked in a deep conversation about the limited uses of Muggle souvenir magnets, while Ginny and Hermione were helping Molly finish up dinner while talking about her and Harry's wedding, now just two weeks away.

Bill was the first to spot George in the doorway.

"George!" he called, clearly happy to see his brother. He got up from his seat and walked over to his younger brother, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "How are things at the shop? Any new products I should be worried about? It's been ages since you've put anything new out."

George flashed a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"We've got a few things in the works but nothing worth mentioning right now."

"Well, I'm sure whatever you come up with next will be just brilliant." Before George could respond, Molly started ushering people to the table for dinner. Normally, he would be scarfing down the spread of food that his mother prepared but that damn letter felt like it was burning his skin through his pocket. He didn't want to open it. He didn't want to know.

Across the table from him, Hermione was oddly silent. She made the appropriate sounds as Ginny gushed over wedding details but she couldn't stop thinking about the letter. She thought if she waited to open it she would be more prepared but, if anything, it just made her more anxious as her mind raced with worst-case scenarios. What if her match was twice her age, or in love with someone else? What if they were a former Voldemort supporter who would love a little revenge on one third of the "Golden Trio". Her eyes squeezed shut at the thought. If that were the case, maybe relocating to a different wizarding community wouldn't be so bad. She was pulled out of her thoughts by a change in Ginny's tone.

"Hermione, are you alright?" she asked gently.

"Of course," Hermione replied. Her eyes swept the table in surprise to see it had mostly been cleared and everyone was looking at her. "Sorry, I must've been lost in my thoughts."

"Did you get your Ministry letter?"

Hermione pulled the folded envelope out of her pocket and half-heartedly held it up for everyone to see. The ordinary, deep red wax stamp sealing it somehow seemed menacing.

"George got his, too."

Hermione turned her eyes on the Weasley across from her. Just a year older than herself, a man she'd known for nearly 10 years, and yet she couldn't decipher the emotion in his eyes.

"Ron?" Molly asked. Her youngest son held his hands up and shook his head.

"Nothing," he replied, allowing a little bit of relief to leak into his voice. The table was silent for a moment, the group taking in the last few moments of life as they know it. They all cared so much for George and Hermione and the thought of them being foisted into a relationship they did not want with people they didn't know was heartbreaking. George was the first to break the spell of silence in the usually loud house.

"Oh, hell," he sighed. "Let's get this over with." As he unceremoniously tore open the letter, Hermione followed suit with nervous hands. The two scanned their letters while the rest of the table waited in quiet, nervous anticipation, the only indication of what the letters held being Hermione's wide, clearly shocked eyes.

Mr. Weasley,

We are pleased to inform you that the Department of Mysteries has determined an adequate marriage match for you. You have been paired with:

Name: Hermione Jean Granger

Blood: Muggle-born

Age: 20

Employment: Writer, Lecturer

The Ministry requires both parties sign a contact at the Department of Mysteries located on level nine located at Scotland Place, London within 60 days, with a September 15, 2000 deadline. Within a month of filing the official contract, both parties will be required to provide proof of shared residence.

The Ministry thanks you for your compliance. Failure to do so by the stated date will result in a warning, after two of which the rebelling party will be sentenced to excommunication from the United Kingdom's wizarding population.

Sinclair Marquis, Head of the Department of Mysteries

Blair Fallow, Sr. Assistant to the Minister of Magic

George's eyes flashed to Hermione's to find she was already staring at him. The shock he was feeling was reflected in her face and, he was sure, his own.

"Well?" asked an impatient Ginny. "Say something! Who did you get?"

When both her brother and her best friend failed to answer her she snatched the letter out of Hermione's hands and read aloud.

"Ms. Granger, we are pleased to inform you that the Department of Mysteries has determined an adequate marriage match for you...adequate," Ginny snorted in disbelief. Adequate was hardly a word people should have to use to describe their marriage. "You have been paired with…" her voice trailed off. It was her turn to widen her eyes, for her jaw to drop in surprise at what she was reading.

"Out with it, Gin," Ron urged, curious as to who his friend, his first love, will be forced into marrying. Ginny took a deep breath.

"You have been paired with George Weasley, pureblood, aged 22, employment: entrepreneur."

"Oh, my," Molly breathed out. A couple other small gasps were heard around the room. Molly had always thought in the back of her mind that Hermione would be her daughter-in-law one day but not like this, and certainly not with this son.

Ron was frozen. He had prepared himself for Hermione to be paired with some random git but the idea of her with his brother was odd, to say the least.

Meanwhile, Hermione and George's focus was still locked on each other, both trying and failing at getting a grasp on what the other was feeling.

"This is...unexpected," Hermione said cautiously, the uncomfortable feeling that settled in her stomach forcing her to look away from the man the law said she had to marry.

"You've got that right, it's downright cracked," Ron snorted with disbelief. He was immediately scolded by his mother.

"Ronald Weasley!"

He offered a weak apology before turning his attention back to his brother and ex-girlfriend. Never in a million years would he have predicted a relationship between those two. It was hard to pin down what he was feeling. He wanted happiness for them both but he couldn't see how this could be it.

George was stunned by what he was seeing. Granger? The thought left him incredulous. Hermione Granger?

Sure, she was nice enough. She was incredibly intelligent, nice to look at, not to mention she was on great terms with his family. But she seemed to be the polar opposite of himself. He hadn't forgotten all the disapproving looks at the twins after pranks, at their not finishing school. Maybe he didn't know the woman across from him as well as he knew the girl he went to school with; it didn't matter. He was struggling to imagine a tolerable life, let alone marital bliss, with the witch—no matter how incredible she was on paper.

Hermione was struggling with the idea herself. Of all the outcomes she prepared herself her, this was not on the list. She could make small talk at Sunday dinners no problem but she couldn't place the last actual conversation she had with George.

"At least you're not paired with complete strangers," Percy said, probably trying to cut through the tension but his matter-of-fact tone did little to lighten the mood. Everyone else seemed to be waiting for Hermione and George to say something but the two seemed incapable of forming any sentence of substance. Even Molly, who always had something to say, was still wrapping her head around the strange pairing.

"Maybe it would be best if we call it a night," Ginny suggested. "Allow yourselves to take a day or two to get used to the idea."

The pair locked eyes once more, briefly, before Hermione agreed.

"That sounds like a good idea, Gin." Hermione stood up and reclaimed her letter. "Dinner was lovely, it was so nice to see everybody." Her eyes found Geroge's, who still had yet to say anything. She felt her cheeks flush and quickly excused herself, making her way outside. Ginny followed after her.

Once she was gone, George let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

"Bloody hell."

Outside, Ginny stopped her friend before she could disapparate.

"I know it's a shock, but are you feeling alright?" she asked.

"I...I think so," Hermione replied. It was mostly true. Her mind was racing with thoughts but even in her state of mind she could recognize it could've been much worse.

"George is, well, George but he's a decent enough guy when you get down to it." Hermione shot a tight smile at her friend.

"Maybe so, I guess I was just hoping that when I did get married, I'd think more than decent enough." She pulled Ginny in for a quick hug, squeezing her friend a little tighter than normal. Then, with a pop, she was gone.

A day or two turned into two weeks without any contact between the two. Hermione had hoped to talk more to George about their situation but he'd made excuses to miss the Sunday dinners. She felt a little guilty at the thought that avoiding her meant avoiding his family and, if she was being honest, a little rejected. She always made it clear that academics were more important to her than looks, but she also felt like she'd come along way from the bushy haired child she was when she started at Hogwarts. Those lingering thoughts weighed heavy on her mind. She tried enjoying herself at dinner but the mood had been awkward and uncomfortable since the letter opening.

Ginny, Molly, and Arhur would shoot her sympathetic glances when they thought she wasn't paying attention, and Harry tried to distract her with conversations about whatever was in the papers at the time. While she appreciated them, there was nothing they could do to take her mind off of her husband-to-be. She understood his reluctance, hell, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't feeling much of the same. But she also knew it had to be done if they wanted to keep any part of the lives they rebuilt after the war. An imaginary countdown clock was taunting her in her mind.

A month and a half.

She debated writing him but was worried that might be too easy for him to ignore and avoid. If he wouldn't come to her, and she couldn't write to him, then her only option was to go to him.

It was definitely not something he expected, seeing her march into his shop bright and early Monday morning, right up to the counter where he was going over the previous day's earnings with his shop assistant Verity.

"Good morning, George," she greeted, her voice pitched higher with what she hoped came across as cheer in her voice and not nerves. He blinked at her in surprise for a moment before recovering.

"Granger, what can I do you for?"

"Are you free tomorrow once you've finished your work, maybe for coffee?"

"Yeah, sure, that'd be fine." He was still slightly dumbfounded by what was happening. It isn't like he'd forgotten what their arrangement, but he had definitely been ignoring the situation instead of processing.

"6 o'clock?" He nodded in agreement.

"Great, see you then." Hermione practically spun on her heel to hurry out.

"Granger," George called out, causing her to whip around just before she was about to make her escape to the busy street. "Meet at Leona's?"

Her confusion faded into relief.

"Yes, that's...fine. More than fine." She threw a slight smile his way before turning around and making a much more calm exit.

"Sounds like a date," Verity said while keeping her eyes on the numbers. "Try to make it past three on this one because I'm not about to run this shop on my own while you're off traipsing around another country until the end of time."

George narrowed his eyes and gently pulled the books back towards him.

"I don't know if it counts as a date, given the circumstances." He paused, glancing back at the door. He straightened his shoulders, feigning the confident resolve he and his brother were known for. "It'll be fine."

Probably.