Knightsbridge

November 2003

"Woman, woman

She's the boss and the brains, no don't you ever doubt her

Woman, woman

Got her finger on the trigger and she coming for the power

That's woman she's a dangerous soul

Holy like she covered in that angel dust

God gave you the answer when he gave you the woman"

- "Woman," Diana Gordon

The sun peeked over the row of brick and white stucco townhomes in Montpelier Square, a small garden square in London's exclusive Knightsbridge neighbourhood. Slivers of golden light spread into the front rooms and kitchens of the residents, who were rising and preparing for their days. The early November chill had begun to settle throughout the city, with drops of condensation forming on the spacious window. Despite the relative proximity to popular tourist attractions such as Kensington Palace and the sprawling Harrod's department store, Knightsbridge is characterised by quiet affluence and privacy. Its residents range from prominent businesspeople, titled politicians, and a handful of successful artists.

The sole resident of Number 16 was famous in her own right, yet completely unknown to her neighbours. Given the occupants' proclivity for anonymity, nobody had questioned the twenty-something brunette who lived in the corner home with the tidy plants. Several noted a tawny owl resting periodically on the black railing, but as true Britons, they chalked it up to the eccentricities of the homeowner and minded their own affairs. And so it came to pass that the residents of Montpelier Square were blissfully unaware of the witch that lived next door to them.

After the Second Wizarding War, Hermione Granger had moved into the sleepy neighbourhood, preferring to put some distance between her and the prying eyes of the British magical community. Her parents had decided to sell their dental practice and settle permanently in Australia, leaving behind the coveted address. While Hermione worked for the Ministry of Magic, she found the constant attention the Wizarding community lavished upon her to be rather wearing, and the secluded flat provided her with the much needed seclusion.

It was only to be expected that Hermione felt hounded by the Magical community. The war had devastated the Magical Britain, and no one had escaped unscathed. Everyone lost someone, everyone bore scars of the tremendous tragedy. There had been a monumental effort on behalf of all the Wizarding World to regroup and rebuild. But the community also needed morale and distraction, and found that in Quidditch, raucous partying, and gossip about the Golden Trio and their compatriots that filled the various tabloids. Hermione, never an extrovert or particularly keen on the limelight, had retreated even further into the safety of her home. Witch's Weekly would occasionally report on sightings of her in Diagon Alley, slipping into Flourish and Blotts or Madam Malkins. Harry, now in custody of his godson Teddy, lamented about a similar predicament. He was pursued so relentlessly one day while at a Holyhead Harpies match (cheering on Ginny) with Teddy that he had to file a restraining order against the various Wizarding periodicals to not approach him when he was with Teddy.

The fledgling relationship Hermione and Ron embarked on at the end of the war fizzled out almost immediately - it turned out to be nothing more than a silly childhood flirtation that could not withstand the horrifying grief the Weasley family experienced with the death of Fred. Ron took a job with the head office for the European Quidditch League, while Harry and Hermione joined the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (him as an Auror, her as a legislative liaison). Life had begun to pick a steady, if somewhat melancholy pace. None of the drama from five years was present.

And so on this November morning, nothing seemed out of place. A cup of tea began brewing itself next to the Daily Prophet which uncurled itself on the kitchen island. Crookshanks grumpily curled himself on the bench next to the kitchen table, and Hermione found herself (to no avail) trying to smooth out her unruly curls. However, before she even managed to start skimming the Daily Prophet, she heard her door creak open, and several seconds later, Harry was standing in her kitchen, his face gaunt. Before she could even ask him what was wrong - she knew. The headline of the Daily Prophet had the headline she had begun to fearfully suspect.

MINSTER FOR MAGIC OFFICIALLY DECLARES MARRIAGE LAW IN EFFECT.

Several weeks before, Hermione had chanced upon Luna Lovegood (now an Unspeakable working for the Department of Mysteries) at a party, and while catching each other up on their lives, Luna mentioned the Ministry was worried about the severe decline in wizarding reproduction. The War had killed so many, and survivors seemed reluctant to start building families. Luna breezily brought up the Marriage Act of 1228, where Magical Europe as a whole had faced a similar issue, questioning an energy release's impact on birthrate. Hermione excused herself, briefed Harry, and spent the rest of the night researching it. They saw nothing out of the ordinary at the Ministry, and decided to chalk up Luna's words to just another one of her eccentricities. And Hermione would have been fine to accept that, except every night when she climbed into bed, she thought about the fact that her nights alone could possibly be numbered, and it filled her with an unsettling feeling.

"It says that all current couples who are dating or engaged to be married have one week to register with the Ministry," Hermione said, reading the page intently, "and then single witches and wizards have 90 days to find themselves a partner and register that partner, if they so wish. If one is still single at the end of the 90 days, they will be provided a partner via the Ministry. By June First, all marriages must have taken place and couples are expected to produce a minimum of two children within three years."

Harry sat down across from Hermione, rubbing his forehead. "I have full custody of Teddy," he mumbled.

Hermione sighed. "Yeah, but you have Ginny. Makes the whole thing of finding a stranger a lot easier."

Harry chuckled joylessly."Kind of takes the romance out of a proposal when the Ministry is the one making you get married and have kids." He eyed her thoughtfully, turning over his wand between his fingers. "You think that you and Ron are going to try and make another go? You know, now that…"

She shook her head. "That ship has sailed. It wouldn't have worked."

"He's never given up, you know? Like he still thinks that one day you're going to come back to him and you'll work out all your problems together." Harry knew that while Ron still pined for Hermione, she had made it clear she saw Ron as nothing more than a friend, and felt uncomfortable every time someone brought up the pair's dating history. But Harry could also not shake the profound discomfort he felt at the prospect that Hermione would either need to conjure up a relationship within three months or marry a stranger. After twelve years of friendship and her remarkable sacrifices for the Wizarding World, it felt almost disrespectful that she was forced into such an arrangement.

"Is there… anyone? You and Neville kind of had a thing."

Hermione flushed. No longer the clumsy, round faced boy from their first year, Neville had joined Harry in the Auror Department, and was well liked by his coworkers, with a genuine interest in their lives and a constantly helping hand. Like Harry, Ron, and Hermione, the Daily Prophet lavished their intrusive attention on him, but Neville never seemed to register them or at the very least, show any annoyance. One night, while working together on a project until very late, Neville and Hermione had several drinks together, and awoke to find each other in Hermione's bed. The phenomenon happened with relative regularity, and while they both insisted that it was platonic, Hermione sometimes found herself looking at the salacious photos of him in Witch's Weekly a couple moments too long.

"I'm not about to force myself into a relationship just to avoid the Ministry's pairing," she said. "The article says the Department of Mysteries developed a special method to find someone who is extremely compatible for you, I'm just going to take my chance there."

Harry was dumbfounded. "That sounds like giving up, Hermione. Like you don't think you're worth the time or happiness a real partnership brings."

"Not everyone are you and Ginny," she snapped. "Not all of us met our soulmates when we were twelve, and dating is impossible with all the stupid cameras. I can't go to Diagon Alley without it showing up in Witch's Weekly or The Enchantress," she scowled. The Enchantress was just another one of the wizarding periodicals that had cropped up on the scene after the war ended. While the Daily Prophet at least sought to inform, the Enchantress's sole purpose was to be a gossip tabloid about the magical and famous. Just the week before, Hermione and Ginny had gotten coffee at a small cafe in Notting Hill and perused the various shops. The next day, the front page showed the two of them laughing, with the headline "Golden Granger and Scarlet Comet Weasley Plot Potter Proposal," and the article (falsely) detailed how the two were trying to hatch a plan to entrap Harry into proposing to Ginny. Hermione smiled wryly as she thought of how utterly stupid that article seemed now given the circumstances.

"Do you want me to… I don't know…. Introduce you to people?" Harry suggested.

"No," Hermione said, shaking her head. "If it happens, it happens, but I'm pretty sure if there was someone in my life who was meant for me, I would have met them already."