DISCLAIMER: Hermione, Severus, Draco and all their friends belong to JK Rowling, Scholastic Books and everyone else with a copyright. I'm just letting them out to play a bit 'til the next book or movie comes out and they have to get back to their day jobs.

A/N: Another update will post in the next day or two. I have made an Old Year's Resolution (much easier to keep than the standard New Year's resolutions, believe me) to update as much as I can in the next few days and get all four of my stories moving along for the new year.

"Marriage is popular because it combines the maximum of temptation with the maximum of opportunity."

- Henri Philippe Petain

Chapter 10

Hermione almost skipped into the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning. She'd slept like the dead, a deep dreamless sleep, for the first time in days, and felt like her old self again. She smiled a greeting at Harry and Ron as she slipped into her accustomed place at the Gryffindor table and piled food on her plate. Yes, today was going to be a good day.

************

Severus watched Her bound into the Hall and join Her friends for breakfast, carefully noting the healthy colour of Her skin and the lack of purple shadows under Her eyes. She looked like She had slept well, and he almost smiled as he turned back to his breakfast.

Maybe he wasn't as bad at comforting people as he thought.

************

Dumbledore smiled as he watched Miss Granger arrive for breakfast; she seemed to be doing much better this morning. He turned his attention to Severus, not surprised in the least to see his attention on the Gryffindor table. A glance at the Slytherin table confirmed that Severus wasn't the only one who seemed to find the Gryffindors of interest; Mr. Malfoy seemed equally riveted by Miss Granger this morning.

Turning back to his breakfast, he decided to find time to meet with his Potions Master today.

************

Hermione lost herself in the comfortable routine of breakfast, passing food, scolding Ron for talking with his mouth full and listening with half an ear to the members of the House quidditch team boasting about their 'sure victory' in the upcoming Family Day quidditch match against Slytherin House. She was relieved when the first of the post owls began arriving; even in her present good mood, 30 minutes of quidditch talk was quite enough for one day.

Hermione frowned as a letter dropped to the table in front of her. As expected, the writing showed it was a reply to the owl she had sent informing her parents about the Marriage Law and the predicament the time turner had put her in; she hoped they had taken the news with their usual unflappable practicality. She tucked the letter into her bag to read later in the privacy of her room.

Suddenly aware of the loud flapping of wings, Hermione looked up to find the silent attention of the entire hall focused on the Gryffindor table. Circling above her head, jockeying for position, were four identical owls. Hermione watched as one took advantage of a sudden opening and swooped down to deposit a letter in front of her; the other three followed immediately and she jumped back as three more letters plopped into her plate. Without looking up, she carefully picked the four missives out of the remains of her breakfast, carefully wiped the bits of food off the parchment and the Ministry of Magic seal and added them to her bag.

Without a word, she rose, grabbed her book bag and exited the Hall, careful not break into a run until the doors of the Great Hall had closed completely behind her.

Hermione sat on her bed and stared at the five letters lined up on the bed in front of her. Sighing, she decided to tackle the easiest first and picked up the one with her mother's writing on it. Carefully opening it, she skimmed the contents.

Dearest Hermione,

Your father and I were horrified, to say the least, to hear about this new situation. There are many days we wish you hadn't been born a witch, and this is one of them.

Of course, as usual, that thought is followed by the realization that if you hadn't been born a witch, you wouldn't be our Hermione. We can't imagine what our lives would have been like without you, our sweet, intelligent, brave, loving, magical (in more ways than one) daughter, and so we wouldn't change a thing about you even if we could.

That doesn't make it any easier, however, to watch you struggle with things like this. You didn't ask us for advice, so we offer none. You know the wizarding world much better than we ever will, and we trust that you will make a sensible decision and do what's best for you. Just know that whatever you decide to do, your father and I will support you and do anything we can for you. We love you, dear, and will always be here for you, and nothing will ever change that.

Take care of yourself, please, and let us know if you need anything at all.

All our love,

Mum and Dad

Hermione sniffed and wiped a tear from her eye as she finished reading the letter a second time and vowed, for the thousandth time, not to take having such great parents for granted. Giving the letter one last fond glance, she tucked it into the door of her night side table.

Sitting back down on the bed, she eyed the four remaining letters, finally grabbing the one on the far left and ripping it open.

According to the Ministry, it seemed some wizard named Robin Barrett-Smythe wanted her as his wife, despite the fact that they had never even set eyes on each other. Shaking her head at the absurdity of the notion, she chucked the letter in the direction of the waste paper bin by the desk, mildly disappointed when it bounced off the rim and fell to the floor.

Well, there were more where that came from.

She picked up the next letter and opened it, raising an eyebrow as she read the name of the wizard who had made an offer for her

hand : Gregor Zabini. Pulling her wand out of her robe, she absently flicked it towards the bookcase and mumbled "Accio Debrett's!" neatly catching the book as it flew towards her. Flipping through the pages of the most recent edition of "Debrett's Wizards and Witches" she quickly found the entry she was looking for. Gregor Alistair Zabini was listed as the older brother of Blaise Evelyn Zabini; he had graduated from Hogwarts seven years before and had been, interestingly enough, a Ravenclaw. Tossing the book aside now that her curiousity had been satisfied, Hermione turned to the next letter.

Hermione shuddered at finding the name Bartholomew Bailey Barrington on the third offer of marriage. She had met him at some of the post war ceremonies and gatherings at the Ministry; she couldn't remember exactly what the tall, dour man did there, but she was sure it was something as innocuous as he was. He wasn't good looking – he wasn't bad looking, either, as she recalled, just rather, well, grey, somehow – but he just stared at people when they talked to him until they walked away, sure he was deaf or having them on. She couldn't imagine why the man was looking for a wife; he really should start with a pet – maybe a small dog, something that would be guaranteed to love him – and work his way up to interacting with real human beings on a daily basis. This time the letter flew true and landed neatly in the bin, pleasing her all out of proportion.

A quick look at her clock informed her that her free period was coming to a rapid end, and she tore into the last letter in haste. She read it quickly, then reread it to make sure she had the name right.

It seemed Viktor Krum, currently the seeker for the league leading Wimbourne Wasps and former boyfriend of one Hermione Granger, had formally requested her hand in marriage.