A/N: Oh. Right. The disclaimer. Ahem.
Disclaimer: I'm not JKR, Warner Bros., Scholastic, or any number of interested parties that own various and sundry rights to Harry Potter. I just play in their sandbox, alas, for no remuneration whatsoever.
A/N cont.: And in case you haven't guessed, this is completely and totally AU. So AU that AUs even point and laugh. So, yeah, it ain't canon. Never will be, either. Not even a li'l bit.
"So, how'd she take it?" Kingsley asked, trying not to reveal his dread of seeing Hermione Granger in a temper in the Ministry halls. He would be the one tasked with escorting her politely out. The last time, she'd managed to hex three members of the Wizengamot, turn two secretaries into toads, and make a ream's worth of memo pads attack their owners. Then she'd actually pulled her wand and started casting consciously.
"She's fine," Harry said absently, looking over the article in the paper again.
"Just dandy. She's setting up a sorting algorithm for her Owl Post now," Ron added, "something with extensive arithmantic equations for referencing Hogwarts records and maintaining confidentiality."
"Right." Kingsley blinked several times, then murmured something vague about seeing to some paperwork as he wandered out the door. Now what was he going to do with his early morning adrenaline rush?
Three days later, Hermione had the last batch of letter to sort, a small mountain of them, from would-be husbands. She also had visitors. Five of them.
Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black had all shown up at her doorstep, courtesy of Harry and Ron mentioning she hadn't threatened to bring Voldemort back as a chained pet just to torture the idiots running the country – a threat she'd used a few months before regarding the werewolf registration legislation that had been up for consideration and which had almost not made it before the Wizengamot due to the engrained prejudices of those who weren't werewolves – over this new marriage law.
Draco was still single, young, and filthy rich. He liked the idea of Hermione as his wife, if only because he'd get to introduce her as his wife, and she would be a properly owned little witch for as long as he was introducing her. Other than that, well, she was very curious about life in the magical world. If he could convince her that taking one's husband as one's master was acceptable and normal, they could have a rollicking good time.
Lucius was still Draco's father, handsome, and even more filthy rich than Draco, as well as recently divorced. Narcissa and he had split amicably after the contractual term of their marriage was up, so he was in the market for a younger model. If said younger model was pretty, intelligent, and so damned famous and well-loved that she improved his companies' stocks just by associating with him, so much the better. The fact she looked like she desperately needed to be shagged rotten on a regular basis didn't hurt, either.
Remus Lupin was intelligent, quick-witted, and not even remotely rich. He was, however, strong, tough, and a powerful wizard in his own right, even before adding the werewolf endurance and strength to the mix. He genuinely liked Hermione, and the thought of taking her to bed on a regular basis wasn't unattractive. In fact, he had thought of taking her to bed for a while now, and the werewolf legislation that was still under review prior to a vote would allow him to marry and have children. If Hermione were the witch to carry his cubs – no, children! – so much the better! She had the nicest rack he'd seen in a while, too.
Sirius Black was fun-loving, slightly insane from his Azkaban years, and still filthy rich. He was lazy, but only because he couldn't figure out the purpose of going in to work every day. More accurately, he couldn't figure out why he would have to do such at thing. Instead, he devoted his days to chasing women, drinking with friends, and otherwise enjoying life and freedom as much as he could. The idea of marrying Hermione was attractive because he wouldn't have to work so hard at chasing women. She'd have been caught already, so he could get right to his favourite part: teasing the witch in his bed until she was desperate and screaming for him to get in her NOW! He would, of course, proceed to follow the witch's instructions, to their mutual satisfaction. Now, if he knew the woman well, like a husband does a wife, the favourite part could happen much more quickly and much more often. And he kinda just liked the witch.
Severus Snape had no intentions of even thinking the word marriage. He was just there for the fireworks show once the little Gryffindor know-it-all found out what the other four were there for.
"I see your fan mail is still being delivered," Sirius said, grinning at her.
"Hm? Sorry. I've been busy using my sorting algorithm." Hermione looked back at the paper she had clutched in her hand, and then up at the wizards. "Is it tea time already?"
Several smiles flashed around the room. In the six years following the war, redemption, good works, and various projects, charitable and profitable, had made former enemies and allies into friends of varying degrees. Of the wizards gathered, she was closest to Severus Snape, a wizard whose wicked sense of humour she appreciated a great deal more now that she wasn't subjected to his nasty remarks regarding her ability with potions. Everyone there, except Hermione, though, knew no matter what time tea was scheduled, Hermione would be taken by surprise when it finally arrived.
"Yes, love," Sirius said, winking at her. "Knowing you were probably hip deep in something, Lucius and I had our elves fix something. Don't trouble yourself."
Hermione nodded, stood, and led them to her parlour where tea had been set up by the Malfoy and Black house elves. She didn't object to the little dears working. She just didn't want them to be abused. After visiting with several house elves, she realized they were all deeply submissive masochists by nature and magic, so the various whallopings and self-punishments were actually another form of reassurance for the little dears. It was only when a house elf was threatened with freedom that they truly knew they were in trouble. Dobby, the notable exception to the rule, had been hit by a stray Imperius Curse when he was just a young elf, so he'd been a little bit crazy according to the other elves. Given the narrow range of personalities available in elves, a touch of insanity in an elf would be interpreted as a severe psychosis in humans.
After several minutes of getting settled, serving tea, and genera chit-chat, Severus asked the poison question.
"So, what is your opinion of the new marriage law, Ms. Granger?" he purred, expecting fireworks.
"It's about bloody time!" came her heartfelt response. At the dropped jaws and wide-eyed stares, she just blinked. "What? Do I have something on my face?"
"You...you think this is a good thing, Granger?" Draco demanded.
"Well, it's certainly going to address the birthrate and inbreeding concerns that I was about to raise to the Wizengamot later this week, but it appears someone actually read my initial study in the past two years, so I'm actually quite happy to see it as law."
"Even with the copulation requirements?" Sirius asked, almost salivating at the idea.
"Especially with, provided the matches aren't some random pairing ginned up by a bored ministry official. Since we get to pick for ourselves, I've got certain criteria that must be met, as is my right under the law." After a pause, she added, "And since nothing purely Muggle like artificial insemination or in vitro fertilization would produce a magical child, it only makes sense, given the goal is to increase the magical population and preserve the rich history of the pureblood houses."
"Mm," Remus thought for a moment, then asked, "So, you're read it in its entirety?"
"Of course," she replied.
"And you don't find it intrusive, invasive, and a travesty of human rights violations?" Severus asked, disappointed that he wasn't going to get his show.
Hermione shrugged. "It's rather par for the course."
"What do you mean?" Lucius asked, his voice pleasant as ever, now that he stopped sneering at everything.
She wave an expansive, expressive hand around her suite. "Take a look around," she said, referencing her new world's varagies. "My teapot brews and pours itself, the pictures move, the portraits speak, the table just scooted itself closer to Draco because he couldn't easily reach one of the treats, the plates fill up when an elf snaps his fingers, and this is just my parlour. There's Diagon Alley, the Shrieking Shack, Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, and St. Mungo's to consider, too. You expect me to be exercised over a simple piece of paper that makes a rather normal legal declaration?"
Everyone was quiet for a long moment. Lucius broke the silence.
"Well, when you put it that way..."
"Exactly," Hermione said, putting down her teacup and folding her hands very properly on her knees, back straight and polite smile in place. "So, who do I have to shag to keep my wand?"
