Disclaimer: I owe everything to JKR, it's all hers.

Note: It's only a short chapter, but hopefully you won't hate me. Sorry!

Marriage, for a woman at least, hampers the two things that made life to me glorious - friendship and learning.

Jane Harrison

On a list of all the things Hermione needed right now, air was actually the least of her concerns.

Making her way down the side of the house, she attempted to slow her breathing, gulping down lungful's of the brisk night air and fighting back the urge to sob.

No. What Hermione needed was her mum. Her mum and her dad and a Ministry that wasn't archaic and destructive and completely bloody ridiculous. She needed a good cry and a good hug and she wouldn't have said no to good bottle of wine either.

But right now, a bit of air was the best she had.

Striding through the cool garden, Hermione was impervious to the Gnomes running back and forth, rustling the hedges, as the warm amber light spilled out of the burrow's windows, painting the long grass lawns. Hermione struggled to clear her mind and think objectively, but amidst the jumble of her thoughts, only two things were clear:

1- Hermione Granger was not going to let the Ministry of Magic dictate her life, or the innocent lives of others.

2- She had absolutely no bloody idea what she was going to do.

It seemed she was finally faced with an insurmountable task. No matter how she tried to break down the facts and reason the puzzle out, one thing remained. She needed more time. She couldn't stop this in 36 days.

But I only have 36 days.

Sinking to the floor, Hermione put her head between her legs and took deep breaths. She knew she was panicking and she knew doing so was absolutely no help. She had come through worse than this. She had gone on the run, destroyed Horcruxes, escaped torture, robbed Gringotts and survived the final battle.

Finally, repeating this list as a mantra, Hermione calmed down. Before she could rally her strength and face the Burrow once more, a warm hand on her shoulder stopped her. Turning, she looked up into the brown eyes and freckled face of Ron Weasley.

'Hey,' Ron began, rather lamely.

"Hey, yourself," She smiled, hoping to ease the tension somewhat. Hopefully he'd sense she was fine now and leave her alone.

The silence stretched out between them.

The rustling of the wind through the hedges seemed amplified, and she was sure the gnomes had never frolicked quite so loudly. The garden was filled with more than shadows, it was like a symphony of the night. Each nameless croak and snap drifted on the wind, only serving to augment the penetrating quiet that had fallen between the pair.

For once Hermione was out of questions, no words sprang to mind to fill the awful void.

"So. What was all that about?" Ron finally asked, obviously uncomfortable with the entire conversation. Hermione couldn't tell in the dark but she thought she could see his ears reddening.

What was all that about? Comforting as always Ronald.

"Well, Ron, to start off with: I came home from work and was told I had to get married or go to jail. For some reason, that set me off a bit."

Again, Hermione's outburst was greeted by a drawn out silence. She cursed herself and wished she could take the harsh tone back.

"So you're saying you don't want to marry me, then?" Ron snarled back at her, his temper shortening.

Hermione only sighed. She knew she shouldn't bait him. Every month or se he took it into his head that she didn't have time for him anymore: that she was cheating or no longer loved him. He became unreasonable and irate, blew up over the tiniest provocation, and then pretended nothing had happened the next day. Hermione had put up with it, reasoning that at least he wasn't ignoring her for weeks on end. Surely every relationship had the same pitfalls. She was well aware that this conversation was leading down that well-worn track.

"Ron, that's not what I'm saying at all." She struggled to make it clear for him.

"You know I've always wanted to be with you, and that one day, I'll eventually want marriage and all the things that come with it. But we're 19, Ron. We are so, so young."

"Mum and dad got married young, and look how happy they are," he continued sulkily, staring out at the warm silent night. Hermione only sighed and rose to her feet.

"I'm not your mum, Ron. I'm certainly not going to marry you just because the Ministry says so. It's completely barbaric. I mean, surely you don't want our wedding to be at the Ministry's beck and call?" Hermione humoured him, attempting another approach.

Ron seemed to light up at this, and Hermione fervently hoped he finally understood her.

"Is it just the romance then? Because honestly, 'Mione, I can make it romantic." His tone was excited, and Hermione was horrified as he got down on one knee.

"Come on, Hermione, Marry me? Please?"

Hermione looked down at Ron's sweet, painfully hopeful look. Reaching out she caressed the side of his face, wanting nothing more than to kiss him and make this all go away. He would never understand.

"Get up, Ron." She said, her eyes downcast and voice full of sorrow. Kissing him now wouldn't make everything better.

Hermione Granger you are a terrible person.

As he knelt on the dark wet grass, face coiling with the emotions and thoughts he was desperately struggling to process, the back door opened and the scene was flooded with light.

Molly stood at the precipice of the door, taking in Hermione's shocked face and Ron still kneeling on the grass, with none other than Severus Snape trailing along behind her. Molly's frown deepened.

"Hermione, Severus here said he needed a word with you. Something about your research."

I only wish I had some form of artistic talent so I could capture the tableau that's in my head. Oh well. I am sorry it's so short, more to follow though so please review and let me know what you think. Thanks once again to Moi and heartmom88 for your brilliant feedback as well as everyone else!