Author's Note: This chapter ended up being a longer than I originally anticipated. I'll let you get on with reading it. A special thanks to Kamion, Treehugger1427, FlyingFaeriesDance, and Becky for reviewing. Thank you also to everyone who put this story on your favorites or alert list.

For the record, this story is not HPB or DH compliant.

August

Draco was far from the only one to be displeased about this legislation. Fathers and mothers were aghast at the thought of their children being weighed down by a spouse they didn't find adequate. The witches and wizards affected by this law were unpleased, to say the very least. Neither Draco nor most of his friends that the least inclination to settle down yet. However, none of them were quite so adamant about the fact that they were willing to risk anyone doing unnatural things to their equipment.

Several of his friends had gotten their notifications by Owl today as well. Blaise noticed a small group of redheads in one corner of the establishment and a quickly disappearing bottle of something strong. There was some grumbling around Draco's birthday table over the fact that the fiery spirited Weasley girl was out of their grasps; they could care less about the other Weasleys. Greg ordered another pitcher for the table and Blaise took Draco's letter and turned it over, looking at the back. He felt around in his pocket for an everlasting quill.

"What are you doing?" drawled Draco, with a hint of frustration.

"Making a list," Blaise replied. He began to write, chewing on the end of the quill every so often and having to pull a tiny bit of feather out of his teeth once or twice. At the end of ten minutes, while the conversation continued around him, he at least had the start of a list: Pureblood males on one-side, and girls with less than Pureblood on the other. The table wasn't terribly concerned with Pureblood girls, since the Ministry had just decreed they couldn't have them. He hadn't put his name on either list. "The way I see it, here are potential girls for all of you, and here are all of your rivals."

Draco took the paper from him. His own name was on the correct side, along with Theo, Greg, Vince, Longbottom, Weasley(x3?), Macmillan, and a number of others. Most of the rival names were from his own house at Hogwarts—quite possibly because Blaise didn't bother remembering too many of the names from the other houses. Draco was certain that he could get whichever girl he chose, so he didn't worry terribly about his rivals. He was good looking and charming, wasn't he? And drowning in Galleons? Admittedly, the Galleons were a bit depleted. The family had made several rather large donations to the Ministry, Hogwarts, and survivor funds after the war as a way to try and bolster their reputation. He turned his attention to the other side of the list—the women.

Draco only had fuzzy recollection of many of the names he looked at—insults thrown at them between classes or comments about their bodies behind their backs. Granger's name was at the top of the list of course. He wrinkled his nose. He'd seen her at the Ministry on occasion. His eyes moved down the list with only the barest hints of recognition.

"I barely remember any of them," he said, taking a sip of his drink.

Blaise chuckled dryly. "I'm sure they remember you, so I hope you enjoy shooting blanks this time next year." He handed the list to Theo.

Theo frowned, looking over the list. "Blaise, why isn't your name on here?"

The darker boy shrugged noncommittally. "I didn't get a letter like the rest of you. I think one of my grandparents was a Halfblood. I have to check."

Draco looked at him incredulously.

He smiled wryly. "Well, I wasn't exactly going to spread that around the common room, was I? It does mean I can have the Weaslette. I've seen her in Diagon Alley. She didn't turn out half bad."

Theo snorted. "Potter will already be on his knees offering to save her from this thing."

Blaise shrugged nonchalantly. "We'll see."

They drank to Draco's health and made several attempts at other conversation, but none of them could quite get into the spirit that night and it wasn't tremendously long before they called it a night and went their separate ways.

Hermione and Ginny were sitting in their apartment, looking over Ginny's letter. "Can they do this?"

"It shouldn't be legal. I understand where they're coming from. I mean, if they can make it so there aren't any more Pureblood families, then they've got nothing to hold their noses in the air over anymore, but this violates everyone's rights in so many ways…"

Ginny looked at her friend. "Well, no one is forcing you to get married."

Hermione looked at the floor. It was true. No one had laid a mandate on her that she must get married, but she did have male friends who were Pureblood and were looking at ugly options in their futures if they couldn't find someone willing. "No, not yet they're not, but what if the Ministry can't find enough Muggle-borns and Halfbloods to volunteer to marry Purebloods? My name could get put into some sort of pool and it could be mandated that I have to agree to someone." She was quiet. "Besides, Ginny, you have four brothers that are subjected to this law." That thought made her dizzy. She loved them to various degrees. She and Ron had had a rocky but workable relationship until they had moved in together. At that point things hadn't worked. There was no escaping from the habits they found exhausting in each other. She moved on briskly, not wanting to dwell on it. "I don't see how they think this is going to change anything anyway. Voldemort was a Halfblood himself, and he still rallied the support of Pureblood extremists."

They sat in silence a while, holding each other's hand. "We'll think of something. You don't have to act on this for a year," Hermione said gently. "I'll come up with something before that, I promise."

Ginny's voice was soft. "Harry hasn't stopped by yet, but it's only a matter of time. I don't know what to tell him. I don't want to get married because of some law."

Hermione squeezed Ginny's hand firmly once more. She vowed to herself that she'd find a way to fix this. There had to be a way. "I'm going to make you some tea, and then I think you should sleep. It's been a long day." She got off the couch and moved into the kitchen, putting heating the kettle for tea and adding a dash of Dreamless Sleep Draught both to Ginny's mug as well as her own. She brought the tea to Ginny and hugged her. "Get some rest."

Ginny smiled weakly and left for her bedroom, sipping her tea.

Hermione could help looking at the girl's letter, crumpled on the couch, one more time. She smoothed it out, reading it, wondering how many months the Ministry would wait before sending out letters to Muggle-borns and Halfbloods. Would they bother asking for volunteers first, or would they make it a requirement from the beginning? She smoothed the letter out and then folded it carefully. She tucked it in a drawer in the kitchen and took her cooling tea to the bedroom to drink and sleep.

Ginny was far from the only Weasley who had trouble sleeping that night. Her parents were up long into the night, worried about the five of their children who would be affected by this law. The twins and Charlie leaned on one another after rather too much Firewhiskey, determined that if tomorrow was going to go to hell, then at least they ought to have a bloody good time today (or numb themselves beyond recall). Ron refused to come out and locked himself away alone.

Neville was in his home office, staring at his letter as though it were a snake about to bite him if he turned away. He was almost certain that he fell asleep with his eyes open, so filled he was with fear over closing them.

Within 48 hours of the Ministry's letters reaching their recipients, the tiny office at the Daily Prophet that handled personal ads had more mail waiting for it than the old witch who worked there had ever seen. She jotted a note down on a scrap of parchment, "Please send reinforcements." With a flick of her wand she sent it off down the corridor. Generally there was never more than maybe a dozen ads of this sort in the paper. People preferred to get their news from their newspaper and their dates from…She frowned. Where did people find dates? It had been a long time since she'd been on one…

Monday morning came far too early for Draco's liking, and his favorite breakfast, brought to him in bed by a house-elf did little to soften his annoyance at the world for existing at such an early hour.

Reality crashed down on him rather abruptly when his mother followed the house-elf only a few moments later. She had his letter in her hand. He scowled at it. How could she approach him with such a thing before he'd even eaten his breakfast? The letter had arrived Friday and he'd quite pointedly ignored it since the end of his disappointing birthday. He had gone out and bought himself new robes and indulged in a few meals at his favorite restaurants and even gone to a Quidditch match. He had done everything but think about that letter. Now she had gone and made Monday worse by bringing it in. "I don't want to discuss it, Mother."

"Draco, I've given you the weekend to indulge yourself, but you must take this seriously."

"Not now, Mother, I'm in the middle of breakfast."

She gave him a level sort of look and then smiled at him as though he were 5 years old. "I'll wait." She seated herself at his desk, looking at him while he ate.

He put up the pretense of eating calmly and ignoring her for only a couple of moments before he gave up. She was making him too uncomfortable. "Say whatever it is you've come to say."

She stood and smoothed her robes, coming to sit on the edge of his bed. "Draco, I know that this is all a bit sudden, but you do need to act sooner rather than later unless you intend to let them pair you with any old hag off the street. If you act sooner, you have the opportunity to choose the best of this undesirable situation."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but only just. "I'll tell you what, Mother. I don't want to think about this right now. I have a full year before they can take any direct action against me. Let me enjoy this year to myself and I'll let you introduce me to my bride-to-be the day before my next birthday."

She smiled and kissed his cheek. "You have 361 days." She headed out of the room.

He sat up, pushing the tray from his lap and trying to untangle himself from the blankets. "Mother. Mother, I wasn't serious. Mother!" He stumbled down the hallway after her.

Hermione paced in her office, waiting for Harry. Ginny hadn't heard a thing from him all weekend. She wasn't anxious to hurry any advances he might make, but it did seem strange in light of the news. The girl from the front office knocked and came in. "This came for you by owl about an hour ago. I forgot about it."

She opened the note and recognized Harry's handwriting immediately. "Let's meet at the deli instead of your office." She growled. How difficult was it to give someone their messages on time? Here she was waiting ten minutes after they were supposed to meet, and she hadn't gotten the change of location because a flighty girl hadn't delivered her message.

She grabbed her bag and went to meet him as quickly as possible. He looked up in surprise when she arrived slightly out of breath. "Are you okay, Hermione?"

"I'm fine; the new girl at the front desk only just gave me your message. Did you order yet?"

He pushed her chair out for her with his foot so she could sit down. "Yes. I ordered your usual sandwich: turkey on rye, no pickles."

"Thank you, I'm starved. So what do you think of everything that's going on?"

"You and I just talked last week, Hermione…things mostly seem like they're improving, don't they? The new Minister seems like he wants to try and actively solve problems instead of letting them fester…"

Hermione stared at him. "So you think this new measure is actually going to fix things? Just like that?"

Harry frowned. "Can you back up a second? What new measure?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment, the waitress came by with both of their sandwiches and drinks. Once the Muggle was out of earshot, Hermione leaned across the table. "Harry, have you talked to anyone in the last three days? The Minister passed a law ordering all of-age Purebloods to marry Muggle-borns or Halfbloods, that way there'd be no one to discriminate against. His idea was that then we'd all be equal."

He stared at her, his mouth agape for a moment. "That won't work. Merlin, what was he thinking?"

"It seems to have been spear-headed by the office of Threat Assessment, which I've never even heard of before. Here, Ginny got this letter on Friday. I brought it in case you hadn't seen it, but I would have thought Ron would have told you by now…I'm sure all the unmarried Weasleys got one." She took the letter from her bag and slid it across the table towards him.

"I haven't seen Ron since early last week." He opened the letter, reading with growing confusion and anger. "Can they do this?"

"Apparently they did. I told Ginny to put off doing anything as long as possible at this point and promised her I'd try to find a way out of this. We have a year before they'd take drastic measures on anyone's body."

"I could—"

She shook her head. "Think about it, Harry. Would you want anyone proposing to you because they felt like they had to?" She lowered her voice. "At the same time, I understand why you would. I don't know what I'm going to say if Ron or Fred or George or Charlie were to ask, or if it came close to the deadline and one of them still needed someone. I don't want them to be put in a bad situation with a stranger, but at the same time…isn't this a choice we're supposed to have?"

He looked at his sandwich and realized he had no appetite. "So what are we supposed to do? How do we fight this?"

Hermione bit her lip and pushed her hair back behind her ears. "I don't know yet. I'm working on it. I'm going to be spending a lot of time going through legal documents I think, trying to prove why this is wrong, though I think it should be pretty self-evident. I understand what he's trying to do…but I don't understand how he could possibly expect this to work."

"How can I help?"

"Join me in research. Talk to whoever you can at the Ministry." She sighed. "I just don't understand how a Minister who seemed to be behind your plan to build a training and health center for werewolves would go and pass something like this."

He frowned. "I think I do. In both cases, it's a matter of trying to neutralize potential threats. Civilize the werewolves and make them safe with Wolfsbane potion. Attempt to civilize blood extremists by forcing them to bond with the people they dislike or to end their lines."

"Except that this isn't going to just affect closed-minded bigots like the Death Eaters. Families who get along fine with Muggle-borns are being forced into this too. I think if they don't have enough volunteers…Muggle-borns and Half-bloods will be forced or coerced too. And what happens to all the kids that the Ministry wants to see from this? Will the parents mistreat them for being something they didn't want in the first place? Partnerships they were forced into…" She trailed off. "I never thought I'd see the day when something like this would be written into law."

He reached out and held her hand and said nothing. He knew what it was like to grow up in a household where he wasn't wanted, where the people raising him thought he was an abomination.

Draco looked down at his manicured nails, not sure of what to do with himself. His mother had promised to leave him alone about the situation for a while, but who knew what she might get up to while leaving him alone? Maybe he ought to have some sort of backup plan. Or maybe not. Maybe he had had the right idea—enjoy the moment for the next twelve months, and then face his doom when it got around to finding him. He wandered the grounds of the mansion listlessly, wondering if he should have given some thought to that ridiculous business of getting a job. It just didn't seem terribly pressing over the past year. Still, he needed something to fill his time. There were a number of old girlfriends he could call, but given the present climate, that might cause more headaches than it solved.

He rather wished he could talk to Blaise, but unfortunately Blaise did have a job. He rubbed his neck. Maybe he ought to go to Diagon Alley and get a massage…maybe buy something new. He went inside to take a long shower and put on freshly pressed robes before going out. He passed his Mother making lists in the parlor and chose to ignore her. He Disapperated with a loud crack of imploding air.

Hermione left work early amid protests from her research partners. She made her way to the Ministry, and was surprised not to find it filled with angry protesters. Shouldn't other people be here complaining about this law that had passed without any warning? Surely enough people had been notified of the new law and were already angry?

Apparently not.

Hermione proceeded through the building, stopped by security guards who demanded to know her business. She was redirected to the flock of receptionists at the Minister's disposal and informed that the Minister had left for the day and if anyone had a mind to see him, they needed to make appointments in advance. When asked about his whereabouts, she was informed that he was at Flourish and Blotts, reading to young witches and wizards. By the time she had scheduled an appointment with the man (none was available for two weeks), and taken herself to the aforementioned bookstore, the Minister was already gone.

She stalked out of the bookstore, feeling more frustrated than she could ever remember feeling after being in a bookstore. It was a bookstore for Merlin's sake—it was supposed to make her smile and think about all the wonderful things waiting inside those fresh pages…

She took several deep breaths and tried to calm her mind. She needed something relaxing right now. Her eyes scanned the shops, looking for something helpful. Gringotts, Fortescue's, Quality Quidditch Supplies, Weasleys Wizard Wheezes…her eyes slid over the signs one after another. She was tempted to go to Fortescue's, but passed it by. As her eyes continued to slide over the various shops, she found one that looked promising and went inside. It sounded like exactly what she needed. She talked to the girl at the front desk and the girl smiled and told her that someone would be with her in a few minutes if she'd just have a seat. Hermione sat down, rolling her shoulders forward and back to little avail.

"Well, I never expected to see you here."

She looked up, startled.

"Then again, you always were the anxious, tense sort, I shouldn't be so surprised." Draco Malfoy had come out, smiling from his three hours under the hands of two skilled massage therapists. His arms, legs, and back felt like a million Galleons.

"Malfoy." She looked him over for a moment, his hair a little mussed from lying on the table, but clothes immaculate as ever. She sighed. "Are you so short on activities to pass the time that you've fallen back to school boy insults?"

"Not at all. Just enjoying a bit of relaxation before my mother has me start interviewing fiancés," he said, attempting to sound bored. The truth was, that was exactly the sort of thing he expected of her. She might try to do as much of the process without him as possible, but it was far more likely that she'd encourage him to participate. She didn't actively want to make his life miserable.

"Interviewing. Sounds charming. Nothing quite so personal as an actual date then."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know. I could conduct an interview over a glass of wine and lunch, or perhaps dinner. I suppose you've already got the whole Weasley brood after you?"

She shook her head, rather surprised the conversation had gone on as long as this. She'd certainly need her massage. She declined to answer. "The only reasonable thing to do is see to it that this law is repealed. Any two people who get married should only do so because they've decided they want to spend the rest of their lives together."

He arched and an eyebrow and chuckled softly, looking her over as if to see if she was serious. "Oh, there are generations upon generations who would disagree with you. Marriage for love isn't exactly an ancient idea. Probably enough members of the Wizengamot are old enough that the idea of someone else arranging the matches doesn't sound entirely foreign to them."

"Oh, is that the problem? I was assuming it was the relatively new members with big ideas but no sense causing the trouble," she said dryly.

Draco nearly chuckled at her sarcasm. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in applying for the job?"

"Wizengamot?"

He shook his head and started for the door, turning as he reached for the handle. "I meant the position of future Mrs. Malfoy."

A female voice drew Hermione's attention as Malfoy slipped out into the street. "Ms. Granger? Everything is ready for you. My name is Francine and I'll be taking care of you today."

Hermione smiled. An hour on the table while someone worked over her back and scalp was exactly what she needed today; maybe she'd even add the hot stone treatment. She was shown in to the room and the massage therapist waited outside while she undressed and slipped under the sheet. She called for the girl to come in. Malfoy might have a point about the older members of the Wizengamot. Particularly, amongst Pureblood families, arranged marriages probably persisted longer as a practice. Was that why there wasn't a bigger outcry going on over this? Was it that people like Malfoy had already assumed someone else was going to help pick their life partner and come to terms with it? Even so, that didn't entirely fit…

"Ms. Granger, please relax your muscles. You seem very rigid…"

Hermione blinked. She'd been so busy thinking about what Malfoy had said that she wasn't properly enjoying her massage. She wrinkled her nose—here she was naked, at a time when she's supposed to be relaxing, and she was tense over thinking about something Malfoy said. There were so many things wrong with this situation. She slumped against the table, trying to let her muscles go limp. "I'm sorry. I guess I had something on my mind, Francine. I'm not terribly good at relaxing."

"Would it help if I turned on some classical music?"

"That would be lovely. Can I add the hot stone treatment to the package I asked for?"

"Of course." Francine flicked her wand at the radio and at the bowl of stones in on a piece of furniture off to one side.

Within minutes, Hermione's conversation with Malfoy was temporarily forgotten.

Neville was working in the nursery, attempting to transplant the teething triats without getting bit. They were putting up a tremendous fight. He'd removed his dragon-hide gloves because the roots were so delicate, but if one of those things bit him, he'd spend the next several hours passed out on the floor. It didn't seem like a great idea.

He had a meeting with one of his suppliers this afternoon who was supposed to introduce him to some new distributors. It wasn't really practical for Neville to try and sell the plants himself. For one thing, they would fare better staying with him right up until the point where they were sold. Putting them in a shop would just let the leaves wilt and the plants suffer. He wasn't worried about his supplier, but meeting with the distributors made him nervous. He really did need to make a good impression. He'd been considering expanding towards the apothecary market.

He managed to finish them with the teething seedlings with nothing more than a scratch that made him doze for a few minutes and went into the house to change. It was weird to have the whole place to himself and occasionally, he wished he had a little more company. All the same, he had so much space here for his ever expanding garden. There were several sections that were fenced in, as well as two greenhouses. He spent the better part of fifteen minutes scrubbing his hands and nails before he even bothered to step in the shower or change into professional looking clothing.

He went to his desk and started rummaging through the papers on his desk for the documents he needed. He found them and, relieved, went to go Floo to his meeting. He couldn't believe August was half over.

Ginny was working as a shop assistant for Fred and George. She was hoping for a position with the Harpies in a year or two; she was training with a junior team now. In the meantime, working for Fred and George was entertaining, and it was a paycheck. She saw plenty of friends from Hogwarts. She opened the shop early, could get time off for Quidditch practice when she needed to, and even helped a little with the products.

It was about half past eleven when she saw a couple of what were clearly soon-to-be Hogwarts first years come in, evidently having ditched their parental escort. She saw them looking at a selection of fireworks she thought a bit beyond their control; better not to let them near anything that a first year couldn't handle or that wouldn't wear off naturally fast enough. She came up behind them quietly, grabbing something from a nearby shelf, and barked in their ears, scaring the poor things. She wondered if either of them had peed himself. She smiled. "Looking for something?"

They seemed to recover quickly enough. "Yeah! We want fireworks!"

"Big fireworks!"

Ginny looked at the shelf of fireworks and shrugged. "You don't want these. They're just all flash and noise."

"That sounds good to me," said one of the boys.

She leaned up against the shelves. "Did you buy an owl today? Or a cat?"

"My mum's getting my owl right now…"

She nodded in satisfaction. "And how would you feel if it dug all of its talons into your shoulder because it was afraid of the flash and bang? Hogwarts robes won't be much protection from that—flimsy stuff." She made a face, wrinkling her nose. "Scratches can be pretty bad, but just imagine if you scared your owl badly enough…the poor thing just couldn't help itself. It'd probably go all over your homework. Hours of writing about transfiguring mice into water goblets down the drain. You'd have to rewrite it all."

He looked at his buddy. "Maybe not the fireworks."

Ginny gave herself a pat on the back. "Now, what you really need is something to get you out of class. Some Friday afternoons are just too gorgeous to sit in a stuffy room inside. What if I set you up with some Skiving Snackboxes?" They met this suggestion with a burst of enthusiasm and took the boxes she handed them. "Mind you, don't indulge in those too often, or your professors will send someone with you to the nurse and she might run all sorts of tests on you."

They stared at her in admiration. Here was someone who knew how not to get caught!

"Anything else you recommend?" asked the other boy.

"Sure, come over this way. We've got Headless Hats—you'll be able to scare your roommates half to death the first time you try it out. And Canary Creams are always a laugh at parties. Just put them on the table with the rest of the snacks…" She assisted them with their purchases, noting that there were a couple of other Hogwarts aged patrons in the shop and someone else off to one side. After the two boys had paid, she turned her attention to the other customers. A couple of girls were looking at love potions. Ginny frowned. They were too young for those. She scooped a bright blue Pygmy Puff out of its cage and held it in her arms. She looked at the girls sympathetically. "Boy problems?"

The shorter girl nodded, while the other one blushed embarrassedly. "Big boy problems. Boys are stupid."

Ginny nodded understandingly and gave them a look of sympathy. "Oh, I know boys are stupid. I've got six older brothers. What are your boy problems? Not brothers I'm guessing."

The shorter girl tucked her dark hair behind her ears. "The boys we like don't even know we're alive. All they care about it Quidditch."

She nodded again understandingly and scratched the Pygmy Puff behind the air, making him squeal a little; the taller girl noticed. "Well, can I tell you a secret?" She leaned in close and whispered, "Boys are trouble."

The short girl frowned. "My cousin has a boyfriend…"

"Boys grow up really slow. By the time this boy realizes that you like him…you won't like him anymore. You'll have found someone much cooler."

The taller girl finally said something. "Are you sure?"

Ginny nodded. "My best friend was totally mad about one of my brothers for at least seven years. By the time he finally noticed and started liking her…she realized he was really messy, and he couldn't take care of himself. Seriously. Wait a bit for the boys to catch up with you and when you go after one…find one you don't need to use a love potion on. That'll be the one that's smart enough to keep." She started petting the Pygmy Puff again, moving it in her arms to draw the girls' attention to it. "I've had my heart broken by boys so many times…" She just shook her head. "Now, I just like playing with the Pygmy Puffs. Ralph here is a cutie, isn't he? He doesn't bite, or scratch, and he always pays attention to you. Do you want to pet him?" The girls quickly became enamored of the creature and each left with one, though they had a bit of a squabble over who would get the blue one. Ginny grinned in satisfaction.

"Slick."

She turned around, a little surprised at the male voice. She'd forgotten there was another customer in the shop. He was fairly attractive; he had a good complexion, a strong nose, and dark hair. He didn't look much older than she was, but she couldn't place him. "What?"

He chuckled. "I saw what you did, first with those boys, and then the girls. Kept them from buying anything they were going to damage themselves on, and still managed to make a sale anyway."

She shrugged. "A girl's got to eat. My name is Ginny. Anything I can talk you out of or into today?" She smiled.

He smiled, one corner of his mouth upturned, deciding not to rise to the double entendre dangling in the air. Instead he said, "There isn't a chance I could talk you into lunch, is there?"

She looked at him again, tilting her head. "Are you serious?" She wasn't having to fight off the telltale Weasley blush.

He nodded. "Of course I am. It's nearly lunch time now." He looked down at his watch. "I was just planning to get some lunch when I decided to stop in here for a minute."

She looked up at the clock with two grinning faces on it. "Well, I can't go out until one of my brothers gets h—"

Fred and George arrived in twin cracks of imploding air, rustling the few papers on the counter and knocking them to the ground.

She bent over to pick them up while the man she had been speaking to went after a stray page. "I do wish you wouldn't do that inside the shop. You always manage to knock something out of place," she grumbled.

"Sorry," they replied, utterly unremorseful. "How was the morning?"

She shrugged and pointed at her sales list, which had self-updated as she made the sales. "See for yourself. There were a couple of big batches of Hogwarts students in around nine or ten, stocking up before the school year started. Sold a lot of the usual stuff—fake wands, Canary Creams, Sucking Suckers, Skiving Snackboxes, the lot. You know the last week of August is always crazy like this."

Fred was looking down at the sheet. "Looks like you managed to sell a couple of the Puffs too."

Ginny leaned her elbows on the counter. She saw that the man who had gone after the paper was standing at a little distance looking at products. "Two girls came in just a little while ago looking at Love Potions. They were too young for them. I convinced them that a Puff was much better than a boyfriend—a boyfriend can break your heart in a week or a month, faster with a love potion. The Puffs will adore these girls for at least a few years."

Fred and George nodded, looking at the sales sheet and seeing what they needed to restock on. One of them would be making products in the back while the other held the fort in the front of the shop. "Can you spare for a while so I can grab some lunch?"

"No worries, Gin," said George.

Fred noticed the fellow standing off to one side, looking at the small selection of Muggle magic tricks. "Can I help you?"

He smiled. "Yes, any of these in particular you'd recommend for a party?"

"The handshake buzzer is worth a laugh, but if you really want to liven up a party I'd try our patented Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs. We've got various shapes, sizes, colors, styles—"

"Not today…I'd still like to have a flat left at the end of the party. These look like they'd pack a bit of a punch." He went to the counter and slip the stray piece of parchment on top of the pile. Ginny rang him up at the register. He mouthed, "Lunch?" and she nodded, fighting down a bit of a blush. It wasn't every day someone attractive asked you out for a bite. It felt good. She grabbed her bag and headed for the front door at the same time the stranger did. She called over her shoulder. "I won't be too long."

They started walking down the street and he asked, "Oh, you think you'll be bored with me rather quickly?"

She chuckled. "Hard to say. I don't even know your name yet."

"Surely there's more to know about a person than just their name?" He held the door open for her as they went into a nearby restaurant and pulled out her chair for her. As he sat down, he introduced himself.

Hermione entered Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and found George manning the counter. She could hear Fred in the back, singing to himself while he worked. Her was rather flyaway at the moment and she was clearly wearing her work robes. "Is Ginny still here?"

"No, you just missed her, Hermione." He saw the look on her face and added, "She should be back in a while. Just went to grab lunch. Is there something so urgent it can't wait 'til you're both home tonight?"

Hermione braced her hands against the counter and gave a little hop so she could sit on it. "Not urgent I guess, but certainly frustrating."

George looked around and saw that she shop was empty at the moment. Everyone seemed to be having lunch. "Well, you want to tell me about it, or are you just going to sit there and look pretty?"

She rolled her eyes at him but couldn't help the corner of her mouth twitching in a smile just a little. "I made an appointment to talk to the Minister about that ridiculous Pureblood law that passed at the beginning of the month. His secretaries said I couldn't see him until the middle of the month. I showed up to the meeting and was informed that he couldn't make it. I offered to reschedule and, naturally, put my name down under every opening on his schedule from here to the end of September. I figured it would catch his attention. I guess someone must have finally mentioned it to him—more than a week later, I might add—because I got an Owl at work this morning, thanking me for my interest in the issue, but saying that a single meeting, let alone 17 meetings, was really quite unnecessary because the resolution had already been passed, and was looked upon as a kindness to the wizarding community!" She tried to take a deep breath to steady herself, but she had already gathered too much steam and was charging downhill. "I don't understand why more people aren't upset about this? Why isn't there a huge protest outside the Ministry? Why hasn't there been a single word about it in the Prophet? Not one article."

George hugged her from behind and said quietly, "That all?"

She let out a long breath, feeling that her face was already hot with the effort of all this talking. "I think that sums it up, yeah." She turned on the counter, bringing her legs up and crossing them so she was sitting on the counter as if it were the floor.

He looked at her. She was so worked up and she wasn't even being directly affected by this law. "I have a feeling the only people that know about this law are the ones being directly impacted by it right now. I think letters only went out to Pureblood witches and wizards between the ages of 17 and 30 or whatever it is. Parents weren't notified if their children fall within the range. People who were outside the range, or not Pureblood weren't notified."

"That's just ridiculous. It does affect Muggle-borns and Half-bloods too. The Purebloods have to marry somebody before the year is out, and the Ministry says it can't be another Pureblood." She put her elbows on her knees and started to rub her temples for a moment before looking up. "George, what are you going to do?"

He put an arm around her and leaned against the counter. "Don't worry about me, Hermione. I'll figure something out." He lowered his voice to a faux whisper, "Don't tell Fred, but everyone knows I'm the smartest Weasley."

"I heard that!" Fred shouted from the workroom.

Hermione couldn't help laughing.

Fred came out and winked at Hermione. "And to prove I'm the smartest, Weasley…" He got down dramatically on one knee, "Hermione, love, marry me!"

George pushed him over. "I'm smarter."

"I'm better looking!" Fred offered from the ground.

Hermione couldn't help laughing at the pair of them. "Personally, I think Ginny's smarter than both of you."

"But she doesn't have my manly charm!" insisted George.

"Or my dashing good looks," interrupted Fred.

Hermione couldn't help dissolving into laughter as they argued over their various virtues. She knew it was all in jest, but how would she respond if any of the Weasleys asked her before all this was over? She'd barely heard from Ron at all in the past month and he was tremendously quiet on the occasions when she'd gone over for a family dinner at the Weasleys.

Saturday night found Hermione curled up on the couch with a pizza on table and a movie ready to play. Harry and Ron were supposed to come over for pizza and a movie in a short-while. Ginny was getting ready to go out.

Hermione turned around to take a look at Ginny. She was in a light yellow dress with pale pink flowers that moved as she walked. Her hair was down casually. "You look nice, Ginny. Where are you going tonight?"

"I'm not sure. He said it was a surprise. When are Ron and Harry getting here? I hope to get out of here before they arrive so they don't give me the third degree." She brushed her hair to one side in the mirror.

Hermione sighed. "They should have been here already actually. I'm expecting a last minute cancellation. You've seen how Ron doesn't seem to want to be anywhere near me this month." She smiled at her friend and tried to turn the conversation around. "I'm glad you're going to go out and have some fun. Who is this guy?"

Ginny sat down in the chair across from Hermione. "Well, he just came into the shop on Monday. He's cute. Intelligent. Witty. He invited me out to lunch Monday and he's stopped by the shop a couple of times since then just to see me I think."

She grinned, opening the pizza and taking a slice out. There'd still be plenty left for when the boys arrived and if they didn't…well, everyone likes pizza for breakfast, right? "Well, that all sounds promising. I hope you have a great time. Be careful though."

"I will. Don't worry about me," she said. "The pizza smells good."

Hermione offered her the slice in her hand. "Want a bite?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, I probably shouldn't, I did just brush my teeth." They chatted for a few minutes more before there was a knock at the door. Ginny went to answer it, praying it was her date.

Harry stood in the doorway. "Hey, Gin, Hermione," he said, coming inside.

Hermione smiled, trying to cover her disappointment. "Hi, Harry. Help yourself to some pizza. I guess Ron's not feeling well?"

He sat down on the chair and helped himself to a slice of pizza. "I tried, Hermione. He's gotten really stubborn lately—"

She snorted. "Lately? He's always been stubborn. I hate this. We were finally getting back to a place where things were okay between n us again…" She shook her head and took another bite of pizza. "I put a movie in the player already, but if you want to watch something else, you can look through my cassettes on the shelf."

Ginny was still hanging near the door. "Since I'm up, do either of you want anything to drink?"

They answered yes and she brought out a can of soda for Harry and a bottle of water for Hermione. As Harry took his drink, he looked at her dress and realized she hadn't sat down since he came in. "Are you going to watch the movie with us?"

"Not tonight. I'm going out."

There was a slight pause and then Harry said, "Well, have fun. You look nice."

She smiled. "Thanks, Harry." Fortunately about that time there was another knock on the door. She went to it gratefully, smiling. Her face dropped a little in surprise. "Hey, Ron. Come inside, they're just getting ready to watch something."

He was standing in the doorway, a little hunched, not exactly sure if he should be there, shifting a bit awkwardly. He had a carton of orange juice with him and showed it to Hermione. "Thought I'd bring something," he muttered.

"That's really sweet. There's plenty of room. Come sit with us," Hermione encouraged. She and Harry shared a look of surprise at Ron's arrival, but they weren't going to question it. Ginny settled herself on the arm of the couch next to Hermione and looked at the clock again. He was only a few minutes late, but it seemed much longer.

When there was another knock, she just stared at the door. "Hermione, will you get it? I'm not getting up again unless he's here."

Ron sat up a little. "You have a date?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "No, mum's taking me out to dinner. Yes, I'm going to dinner with someone, a male someone."

Hermione opened the door.

"Is Ginny Weasley here?"

"I'll see if she's still interested after you've kept her waiting like this…" Hermione said disapprovingly.

Ginny couldn't help smiling as she got up and smoothed her dress. She looked at Harry and Ron, "See you both later." She stepped out into the hallway with her date and closed the door. "You're late."

"I am sorry, but I stopped to get you this." He took a flower out from behind his back, a yellow rose tinged with pink at the tips.

Hermione's last thought as the door shut was the Ginny certainly had found a handsome (if not timely) fellow.

Author's Note: This chapter ended up being longer than I was anticipating. I'd really appreciate any feedback. This is my first time attempting a story with major time lapses like this, or a really ensemble oriented piece. We'll see more of some characters than others I think, but normally I follow one character pretty continuously through just about every day of the story with only occasional peaks elsewhere. Having time lapses like this and following several characters is rather new territory. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please take a minute to review.