This is a story I wrote when I was 14 as part of a marriage law fic and I never posted it. It was written pre movie seven but I had read all the books.

It's not finished but neither is lots of other stuff on this website, so I'm just going to put it up and let people enjoy what I have, because fourteen-year-old me was pretty sarcastic and funny.

I Don't Think This Will Work.

It was only four years after she'd graduated Hogwarts. She'd gotten a job at the Ministry, dated a few guys, tried to figure out what she wanted to do in her life. Come up short, and just kept going through the motions.

Until now.

After Harry Potter had defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the ministry had been in shambles. It was only through the efforts of the Boy-Who-Lived to make sure he would never again be in a situation where he was the only one who could do anything and partly through her and a few other brilliant minds coming through and making sure everything clicked together that the ministry could be remade. In Hermione's opinion, it was better than ever. They had scrapped everything from the bottom up. Erased all the loopholes, and made a new government.

They had written up a set of laws on what the Government could and could not control, and a set of laws on what the Government could and could not regulate. After that, they had outlined the basic rights people had, then sentient magical beings. The Goblins and Centaurs had been among the first to agree with the reformed Ministry's terms of 'Do not kill any humans and do not let yourselves be seen by muggles.'

She herself had been behind making sure that blood purity was not a factor in the Government, and that each person had a right to be represented.

After the Ministry had started ruling the people again, keeping records and pulling up older ones to compare them, that was when the numbers started to flow.

The British Wizarding Government had lost over half of its citizens. In fact, it had lost about 85% of its population, leaving just a little over 400 magical people in Britain when before they had been nearing 3,000 people. The reasons? The murders He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named committed, the deaths of the good people who fought against him, The Death Eaters who had been executed for their crimes, the suicides of people who had died rather than live under Voldemort, and the mass exodus that had begun out of Britain at the end of her fifth year.

No one could really believe the numbers when they had first come out. 85% of the wizarding world dead in under 10 years. Wiped out, gone. They had counted over and over again, but it never changed by more than a very minute fraction.

So they worked through all the old laws they had previously scrapped and found something from over two-hundred years ago, back when the Statute of Secrecy had first been drawn up and Wizards were going into hiding. The new ministry introduced a 'quieter version of a marriage law.' It had taken nearly a year for the thing to go through, having to pass it by all the guidelines on what laws the ministry could and couldn't impose. Did it harm anyone directly? Was the law directed to a specific group or for the overall welfare of the people? What rights did it take away? Eventually they had come up with a system. It was deemed by the new Minister for Magic and his counselors the 'red, blue, white' system.

It worked like this: you received an envelope via mail. It could be one of three colors. Red, representing the hard work and blood shed over the past decade. Also representing the love and devotion the couple would show each other through their marriage. Receiving a red envelope meant that there were at least ten people available who were compatible with each other's magic, personality, age, and body (meaning that a man who was nearing seven feet tall wouldn't be paired up with a girl never going past five and a 300 pound man wouldn't end up with a 90lb young woman.)

The blue envelope represented the sadness of those lost and the sorrow of the country. It also represented that even if the couple had hard times, they had to remember to be perseverant and work together. It also meant that the Ministry had searched the country far and wide to find a match for them, and that these were the twenty people most compatible for each other.

The white envelope was supposed to represent the country starting anew and the new generation. It told couples their top fifty matches, but not all of them would be perfect and compatible. Some may come with troubled pasts and hardships, but people were asked to be diligent and support their other halves through everything.

Of course, people were perfectly entitled to date people who weren't on the list, but they were asked to give each person on the list an equal shot.

The idea was that people would receive their envelopes when they turned 20(similar to the Hogwarts system), they were encouraged to give each one a try and then asked to select the best match for them, report it to the ministry, and be married within five months of the match being registered. If the marriage turned out sour, couples were allowed a divorce, but encouraged to find another spouse as soon as the time was right for them.

As soon as the marriage law was pushed through, work began trying to make it a reality. She had never supported it, so she didn't help with it even though she was asked. Work without her was slower, so it was another year before the Ministry managed to get the system up and running.

Then there were the long weeks where the magical artifacts they were using were charging and writing out long lists of people who were matches. The ministry assured everyone that within the year everyone over the age of 20 would have their letters. It was in a random order, so you never knew when the Ministry Owl would show up with the list of names that held your entire life.

Hermione Granger mainly pushed the idea of matches to the back of her head. It was one of those things she knew was going to happen, but she never pondered it unless she was brutally reminded of it.

It was a Saturday. Hermione had meant to go into the newly-reformed Ministry to do some overtime and correct problems here and there, but the clock hit ten and she had one foot out the door when Ginevra's patronus came through.

"Hermione! Come quickly over to the Burrow! I've got my matches!"

The voice sounded scared and excited all at once, a dreadful mix of what was and what was to be. Hermione dropped her briefcase by the door and straightened her jacket. Ginevra had been an acquaintance of hers in Hogwarts, and though they hadn't known each other very well, Ginny still invited her to all sorts of things.

She turned on her heel and appeared on the Weasley's driveway. Mrs. Weasley appeared at the door and called "Oh Hermione! You've arrived! How wonderful! Come in, come in."

Hermione smiled graciously and said: "It's wonderful to see you Mrs. Weasley. Has Ginevra opened her letter yet?"

"No, no not yet." The older woman said distractedly. "We only just got it last night, see, and have invited a few close friends over to see who the lucky guys are. And it's Ginny dear, you know this!" Hermione nodded. She stepped onto the porch and Mrs. Weasley opened the door for her. She ducked under the threshold and let Mrs. Weasley guide her toward the living room, where Hermione was immediately suffocated by a crowd of people. She recognized Luna Lovegood, and Ginny's brothers Ronald, Fred, George, Percy, Bill, and Charlie. Fred and George were with their matches, a pair of identical brunette girls who were from some part of Britain Hermione wasn't familiar with. They both spoke fluent French and decent Dutch, however.

Fred and George had both received red envelopes with the same matches. The two had given each a shot, but had immediately connected with these two, respectively. She thinks she remembers their names are Sarah and Maddie, but cannot remember anything else. Percy had received a blue envelope, but he still hadn't met them all yet. So far, he said, his favorite was a girl named Melody who also worked at the ministry, trying to iron out all of the country's problems. Hermione could respect that.

Charlie had gotten married to one of his blue-envelope matches, and Bill had married a girl he'd met outside of the match system. Her name was Fleur. Hermione liked her a lot. Ronald, the youngest brother, had just recently received a red envelope to which Hermione did not know the contents of.

The room contained a lot of other people, but Hermione did not know them. They must be from Ginny's extensive friend circle. Ginny was standing in the center of the room, bouncing with excitement. "Hello Hermione! You're here! Now we can start!" She called out excitedly, brandishing a letter-opener. Hermione smiled politely and waved as Ginny dug the bronze edge of the dulled blade into the paper fold. Her envelope was blue, Hermione noticed. Twenty names to help Ginny to look for her future husband.

Ginny ripped the paper open and yanked out the blue-tinted paper inside. She hastily unfolded it and then started reading aloud. "Dear Ms. Ginevra Molly Weasley. We here at the ministry are proud to present you with your twenty matches. Your matches have been determined through magical analysis of your personality and your characteristics. We wish you the best of luck in choosing a future spouse. Remember, should you choose to find a match with someone outside of your list, you will need to register that with the British Ministry of Magic within 72 hours of your decision. Please inform the Ministry within a year of your chosen match if it is from this list. Please remember that there is a five-month deadline from the day you register to the day you must have your wedding. We wish you the best of luck with your future. Without further ado, here are your matches."

Ginny flipped her hair over her shoulder and flashed a winning smile at the people around her. Somewhere in Britain, the same people on her list would have her name on theirs. It was incredible… to her. To Hermione, it was a lousy attempt by the MoM to regain the population status quo. But she turned her attention to Ginny as she began reading off in a loud voice that tripped over the new names.

"Bram Gregor, Alastar Bandi, Elam Channing, Cody Elah, Kai Derby, Adrian Cirillo, Lorens Damhan, Dean Thomas-" She cut off in the middle of her list at the catcalls emerging around the room. She blushed profoundly, then continued. "Paul Gustaw, Andy Claude, Dawrin Luka, Nichols Biagio, Jeffery Davis, Leon Bartek, Dillan Jethro, Abraham Paul, Xavier Werner, Nik Rosendo, Barabas Dust, and –" Her face twisted into a disgusted expression. "Draco Malfoy."

The room exploded into boos, and though Ginny was clearly disappointed with the last name, she laughed at the teasing everyone was giving her. "Oh, he won't be a problem though." Someone said from a corner of the room. "Mr.-pompous-my-father-will-hear-about-this-Malfoy got himself a chick of his own."

"Oh really?" Ginny said, brightening up. "Well, then I won't have to give him a chance. Brilliant."

Hermionie laughed, despite herself, and Ginny's attention was on her. "Oh Hermione, come here I want to show you something." She hopped off the chair she was standing on and waved to the rest of the room. "Bye everyone! Thanks for coming!"

"Bye Ginny!" The room called back. Hermione rolled her eyes and followed Ginny through the dozens of people congratulating her on receiving her matches. She stopped to thank each one for coming, and it was only after several minutes that they actually made it out of the room. Ginny took Hermione's sleeve and pulled her into the kitchen. "Guess what Mom made to celebrate. Erm, I mean, now it's to celebrate. Before it was just because we all wanted it." She gushed excitedly. Hermione smelled sugar in the air and saw a cake in the center of the table. She smiled at the care Molly had put into it, from the delicate frostings, to the sugar candies arranged on top. "It's beautiful." She told Ginny. "What flavor is it?"

"Red velvet." Ginny answered. "Cause I'm on my you-know-what, and I've been craving all week. Mom's really cool though. She understands." She stole a tiny pinch of frosting from off the cake and licked her fingers. "So, what did you think of my matches?" Hermione smiled at the younger girl. "Well, I noticed Dean Thomas and Draco Malfoy, the rest I didn't know." Ginny rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well. I think I'm probably going to go with Dean. Shame though. I was hoping for someone like Gilderoy Lockhart, Viktor Krum-" "Victor Krum is a Bulgarian." Hermione pointed out. "Yeah but still. Ooh! Or maybe Harry Potter! Do you know how cool that would be? If I'd gotten Harry Potter?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. She was positive that as soon as Harry Potter got his letter, everyone would know. She was beginning to doubt he was even on the rolls. Maybe he'd paid them to not put his name down at all. She highly doubted that, but still.

A tapping sound at the window alerted them to an owl's presence, and both girls' heads snapped in that direction. "Oh!" Molly said as she opened the door to the kitchen. "That's probably from Arthur. Let me let him in." She bustled over to the window and flipped the latch. The bird soared in and flew in a circle around the kitchen counter. Molly held out her hand for the letter, but to their surprise, the owl ignored her and dropped its load in front of Hermione before taking out the window again.

Hermione picked up the letter and read her name off the front. She recognized the sturdy font Ministry letters always came in, and flipped it over to view the seal.

Her heart skipped a beat. Then stopped.

On the back was the seal of the Ministry Magical Protection Department. In the center were the letters RBW, for the red, blue, white program. This was her name list. Why then, was it not like anyone else's? It was unlike anything she'd ever seen before. Unlike the fiery red color that Fred and George had proudly held up to their hair. Unlike the deep blue she'd seen Ginny cradling. Unlike the stark, stainless white that was the most common form of envelope, this envelope was a sleek and shiny gold.

She ran her hand over the smooth paper and felt her heart begin to pick back up. "Ginny." She said quietly. "Do you still have that letter opener?" She felt the cool metal slip into her hands and she used it to carefully break the seal. She peeled the flap up evenly and pulled out the lightly gold-tinted paper inside.

"Dear Ms. Hermione Granger. We here at the ministry are proud to present you with your single match. Your match has been determined through magical analysis of your personality and your characteristics. It is the only one that came up for you, and you are the only one that came up for your significant other half. Due to this we have already taken the liberty of prerecording your match at the Ministry. Please remember that there is a five-month deadline from the day you register to the day you must have your wedding, and this will not be bent due to your unusual circumstances. We wish you the best of luck with your future. Without further ado, here is your match:"

Hermione swallowed and looked up at Ginny and Molly with fear in her eyes. "Go on." Ginny said quietly, excitedly. "See who it is."

Hermione looked back down at the paper, wondering if this was for real or if someone was just playing a horrible joke on her. She glanced at the official seal on the envelope, and then read her match – her only match – to herself.

Her heart skipped a beat, then stopped. Her chest went loose, then constricted. Her brain went wild, then stilled.

She felt the tears come as she read the last few lines silently to herself.

'Harry James Potter.

Congratulations on your match. We hope your marriage brings much joy to you both in the future. Please remember that you may always read up on this system and its pertaining laws in the Ministry Department of Records.

Ministry Magical Protection Department.'

She didn't go into work that day. Instead she left the burrow without showing anyone the name on her envelope and went home to be alone for a little bit. Five different people sent her letters asking where she was, but she ignored them all.

Harry Potter.

Harry James Potter.

Harry Bleeding James Potter was her recorded match at the ministry.

She went home and broke three vases and drank her way through five mugs of chamomile tea before curling up in bed and falling asleep. She slept all day and woke up around 11 at night. She then cleaned up the shattered vases and scrubbed her kettle clean before going and sitting out on her porch in the soft moonlight. She had no sooner sat down when an owl swooped down and landed beside her.

She stared at it, and knew immediately who it was from. A snowy white owl, with wise amber eyes. It held out it's leg and she untied a letter from it. The front read: Hermione Granger. It was so neatly written it looked almost as if it had been typed. She ripped open the seam roughly with her fingernail. Inside was a simple note, exactly fitting the size of the envelope.

'Dear Hermione Granger,

My name is Harry and I received your name for my match. I was curious as to whether or not your letter came in a similar fashion as to mine and as to what the contents of yours said. Mine claims that 'It is the only one that came up for you, and you are the only one that came up for your significant other half.' It arrived in a gold envelope. If this is the case, I understand that our Match is prerecorded at the Ministry. I understand there is a five-month deadline for our wedding as well, and I would like to get to know the girl I am going to marry. If you have a moment, I would love to take you out to lunch on Monday, so we can talk about where we will go from here.

Thank you, Harry Potter.'

Hermione stared at the letter, then looked back at the snowy owl. "I suppose you would like a response to take back?" She asked it, hoping she didn't sound as drained as she felt.

The owl hooted wisely and blinked as if to say "Yes."

She pushed herself up off her chair and headed inside to find a piece of parchment. The owl didn't follow, just stayed on the front porch. She stumbled over a chair that she must have knocked over during her emotional breakdown today, and quickly propped it back up into its pristine condition.

Her study was as always, color-coded and neat. She must not have gotten this far in her tantrum. She pulled a perfectly square piece of parchment out of her desk where her stationary items were located, and then addressed the letter.

'Dear Mr. Potter,'

That was as far as she got. She tried thinking of something to say, but nothing came up. She pulled out a muggle flashcard and tried writing some things down, but nothing clicked.

How do you write down lies? That you can't wait to get married and live happily-after-ever and have a bajillion kids? That you're sure it doesn't matter you'll only have known each other for five flipping months before getting married?

Besides, it was Harry Flipping Potter. Savior of the Wizarding World Harry Potter. Would she ever be good enough for him? Would he even want her when he could have anyone? He could still marry outside the system of course. All she was was a ministry employee trying to piece their broken country back together with pieces that were broken to the point of being minuscule fragments. A nearly pointless task.

Hundreds of other girls had dreamed of finding his name on their list. Their perfectly normal red-blue-white list. Each had been disappointed to find out that no, they weren't good enough for him. And now, her. The only girl in the entire British Wizarding World who did not care and she got him.

Her hand traced out a small doodle on a flashcard. She remembered the owl would probably still be waiting and moved her hand toward the parchment.

'I'd like to be able to meet you too. Whenever you have a minute, send an owl back and we can negotiate a place to meet.'

She tried to think of something else but drew a blank so she signed her name and sealed it in a small card. The owl was still waiting outside. It watched her as she approached, and she smiled softly at it. "I'm sorry." She told it. "It's been a long day. I-I couldn't-" She shook her head. She was trying to explain to a bird why she had taken so long. The owl hooted understandingly and flapped over to her shoulder. It nuzzled her ear and started picking up pieces of her hair and combing through them. Hermione closed her eyes in quiet appreciation

After a few minutes, the owl stopped. She rubbed the soft feathers lining its neck and tied the card to its leg. The owl nipped her ear affectionately and then took off with two mighty beats of its wings into the night. She put her elbows on the railing and stared off into the night.

She wondered what Harry Potter was like. He'd been in her year, though they'd never spoken. She'd read about him when first entering the wizarding world and learned the story of him. She had seen him every once in a while at the Ministry when he was called in to help fix problems her team would later iron out. To be honest, she really hated when he showed up. It meant that he would give his opinion on something, and no matter what that something was, she'd have to fix it.

Harry Potter didn't approve of the laws giving the Ministry the right to screen crime suspects' mail without permission? She was the one who had to cater to his and the minister's privacy needs.

Harry Potter didn't like how the Daily Prophet was allowed to print speculations without proof? She was the one to handle the legal battle.

Harry Potter wanted a spell restricted, Harry Potter wanted a punishment on this, Harry Potter wanted a law revised. Every single time it was Hermione and her crew that got it done. She got bloody sick of helping Harry Potter with every little thing he wasn't happy with.

She'd always supposed he was spoiled, petty, and that he thought that he deserved everything he had. Probably thought that the people who had fought just as hard as him should bow down because he was the one who, in the end, had defeated Voldemort. And this was the man she was destined to marry.

A clock sounded inside, and she counted the chimes for lack of nothing better to do. It occurred to her that her clock only chimed at the hour, and when she was awake. That meant it was midnight and the start of a brand-new day.

When she was little she had imagined the seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, and years as people, or maybe spirits, who were born, grew old, and died. She had imagined new seconds being born and dying almost immediately afterword and years slowly gaining days, growing older and older until the first stroke of the clock on midnight of New Years. She had known, even then, that this was a silly notion, but it did help her as a small child to realize how precious time was and how little of it she had.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her little home smelled like history, water, and books. It was part of the reason she'd bought it.

She knew she should probably get to bed, but tomorrow was a Sunday and she didn't need to go into work. Even with that thought, her practical head started pushing her towards the stairs inside. Before she fell asleep, she opened the window and let the night air blow into the room and set a frosty chill on everything. The last thing she saw that night was her breath clouding up in front of her.