Sorry I forgot to post the DISCLAIMER last time, I'm so stupid! Anyhoo, thank you SO much to my reviewers...sniffle I'm so glad y'all liked it! Sorry I can't respond to ya, but I don't want my story to be deleted.

Disclaimer: My plan involving small bits of cheese and a net obviously didn't work, so...no. I don't own it.

Sorry for the cliffie before...but someone's gotta do it! I know it was mean so I'm making up for it with a quick update. (unfortunately, this one will be rather short, sorry...I'm very, very busy, you know. eyeroll)

ON with the story!

--

"Harry, who is it?"

"Pansy Parkinson." Hermione was flabbergasted.

"What?" Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"That's what I thought, too."

"But how would your parents have known Pansy's parents? I mean, as far as we know, they're firmly on Voldemort's side. Why would your parents betrothe you to someone who, for all we know, is already slated to become a Death Eater?" Harry put his head in his hands.

"I don't know," he said to his knees.

"Well they must have had a reason, however dodgy it might have been."

"According to the letter, there was a law around when I was born that said that all Wizarding parents had to arrange marriages. It said something about the 'uncertainty of the time'." Hermione silently breathed a sigh of relief. She was suddenly very glad to be Muggleborn.

"They wanted the best for you, I'm sure of it. They wouldn't choose someone like Pansy if they didn't have a good, solid reason," she said, patting his arm reassuringly. "Are we sure that this is even legitimate? Who was the informant? Are they a reliable source?" Harry looked up at her.

"Of course they're a reliable source! He's the Minister of Magic!" Hermione looked disbelievingly at him.

"Do you still have the letter?" Harry nodded and motioned to the table next to him. Hermione leaned over and picked it up, examining the letter itself. It read:

Dear Mr. Potter:

It has come to my attention that you have recently come of age. As such, it becomes my

painful duty to inform you of some strange circumstances surrounding you and your parents. I assure

you, I have done the necessary research and have discovered, to my extreme distaste, that this is

perfectly legal.

I understand that you know a Miss Pansy Parkinson? Due to a law encompassing the time of

your birth, any couples in the Wizarding world that had a child must arrange their marriage to

someone of a similar age. This distasteful law was devised merely out of pure necessity, due to the

extreme uncertainty of the time. I send the sincerest regret with this letter, rest assured.

Regretfully yours,

Rufus Scrimgeour

Minister of Magic

Hermione read and reread the letter. She examined the Ministry of Magic seal next to the Minister's name, then the letterhead. She sighed and handed the letter to Harry.

"It seems perfectly legitimate, unfortunately. I'm sorry, Harry."

"No," he said quietly, "there has to be a way out of this, there just has to be! Help me! We've got to find a loophole, some way out. Please," he finished. Hermione's heart melted. He had always had her wrapped around his little finger.

"Alright. When we get back to Hogwarts, we'll research this, make sure there really was a law. I don't recall Professor Binns ever saying anything about a law like this, although none of us ever asked. I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will be looking into this. You must tell him, you know. Dumbledore. He has to know. If anything will be done about this, he will do it." Harry shook his head.

"If this truly is legitimate, he'll already know."

"Exactly! If it isn't a fake, Dumbledore will know straight away." Harry still looked distinctly morose.

"I hope you're right. I mean, it seems so unfair!" Hermione melted. It was unfair. It didn't seem right that Harry had to wait two whole months for answers.

"I'll tell you what. I know I saw a library somewhere around Diagon Alley. Why don't you clean up and we'll go do a spot of research. See if there really was a law, first of all, and ways to get around it, if there are any." Harry looked delighted.

"Really? I mean, it is Saturday, and I don't want to waste your whole day," Hermione shook her head.

"I had planned on spending the whole day with you anyway, so no loss." Harry stood up and walked over to the door.

"I'll be down in about five minutes. Make yourself comfortable," he said, grinning. Hermione could see the irony. Here she was, with her chronically messy hair, sitting in Aunt Petunia's obsessively clean living room. The room, she thought, made her look like a ruffian. Although, maybe that was its purpose. Not a speck of dust in the whole room, it seemed to Hermione that there was not a molecule out of place. Just then Harry came back down the stairs.

"Ready?" she asked him. He smiled at her, the first smile she had seen in the last hour or two.

"Ready." Hermione got up and followed him to the door, then stepped outside.

"Won't your aunt and uncle wonder where you went?" she asked tentatively. Harry gave a derisive snort.

"Hermione, we're talking about my aunt and uncle. Do you seriously think that they care that much?" Hermione considered the evidence.

"No, I suppose not," she said hesitantly. She opened the driver's door and sat down. Harry was still outside, looking at her car. "What?" she called to him.

"Nice car. When did you get it?"

"It was a gift from my parents for my seventeenth birthday," she said happily.

"Oh," he said, as he sat down next to her. Hermione shut her door and started the car.

--

A half hour later, Hermione came smoothly to a stop in front of the Leaky Cauldron. She turned off the car and stood in front of the door, waiting for Harry to join her. When he did, she stepped inside the dingy building.

"Hello, Tom," she said as they passed the bar. He muttered a hello to them and went back to washing the bar. They passed through the pub and went out the back door. Hermione took out her wand, tapped the appointed brick, and stood back as the archway to Diagon Alley appeared before them.

--

Hermione rubbed her eyes tiredly. They had been researching Wizarding betrothals for the last two hours, and her eyes were aching from the tiny print and lack of sleep. She sighed and went back to the book she had been poring over.

"Wizarding betrothals go back many centuries. After the third century, they were outlawed. However, during the last reign of You-Know-Who, they were reinstated out of sheer necessity. The uncertainty of the time compounded with lack of marriages forced the Ministry to pass a Betrothal Act. The Act stated that if any Wizarding family had a child, they must arrange his or her marriage with someone of a similar age." Hermione snorted. They already knew that. She read further.

"This, of course, means that Muggleborns were exempt from the Betrothal Act." Yes, yes, she thought, knew that too.

"However, there was one serious loophole to the Act. As long as a witch or wizard's betrothal did not involve a blood pact, they may elope with someone of the opposite gender. A small fine must be paid if this is done, but there are no further repercussions." Hermione looked up at Harry. "Yes! Here it is! There is a loophole, but I doubt if you'll like it." Harry snatched the book away from her and read the bit on the Betrothal Act slowly.

"Excellent! The question is, who am I going to marry? Because it can't be someone I barely know, or someone that's stupid. This needs careful planning." Harry was running his hands through his hair, thinking hard. The end result, of course, was that it stood up in even more directions than it had before. "Let's take a walk, clear our heads," he said finally. Hermione got up, grateful for the opportunity to stretch her stiff limbs. They exited the library and headed out onto Diagon Alley.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked Harry curiously as he led her down the street.

"You'll see," he said miscievously. He stopped in a small alleyway between two shops. "Hermione, I realize that this is so spontaneous and you have every right to refuse, but, well," Harry stopped , and nervously loosened his collar.

"What, Harry?" Hermione was curious.

"You've got to help me out of this betrothal thing, please! I don't want to marry Pansy!" Hermione was puzzled.

"Of course I'll help you," she said, getting more mystified by the second. Harry dropped down to one knee and took her hand.

"Then marry me," Harry said.

"What?" Hermione was shocked. Harry stood up.

"Please, Hermione, it's the only way out, and you said you would help me," his voice cracked at the end, and her heart cracked along with it. She sighed. She had agreed to help him, after all.

"Alright," she said hesitantly. Harry stood up and hugged her, spinning her around in the street. A few witches and wizards passing by gave them amused looks, then went on their way. Harry put her down and grabbed her hand, dragging her through the street. "Now where are we going?" she asked him.

"Again, you'll see." Hermione followed behind him, curiousity keeping her there. He stopped in front of a small jewelry store.

"What are we doing here?" Harry dragged her inside and led her to a counter in the back of the store. A witch in lavendar robes sat behind it. She smiled as they approached.

"We'd like to see engagement rings, please," Harry said to the witch. She smiled and looked at Hermione, then disappeared behind a curtain.

"What? Engagement rings? But...we're supposed to elope, remember? Surely people will know that you're betrothed to someone! Pansy will know," Harry pressed a finger to her lips, quieting her.

"It'll be alright." The witch emerged from the curtain carrying a glass box with various engagement rings in it. Harry turned to Hermione as the witch set them down. "Pick one," he said, smiling.

"You don't have to, I can just,"

"No," Harry cut her off. "I want this to be special." She gazed in wonder at the engagement rings, trying each on in turn, and finally settled on a simple gold band with a single diamond set into it. Harry paid the witch and they walked out into the street.

"But what about Ron?"

"What about him?"

"Well," Hermione said slowly, "he hasn't exactly been discreet." Harry bit his lip.

"You knew? And you never did anything?" Hermione blushed.

"No, I mean, he's my best friend, and I couldn't very well date him," Harry gave her a disbelieving look.

"You couldn't date Ron, but you could marry me? That makes no sense, Hermione, and you know it." It was her turn to bite her lip this time.

"Well, I...I don't actually feel the same as he does, and I didn't want to break his heart, alright?"