May 23
"Any luck?" Harry asked as he walked into the Black Family library, two mugs in hand.
For the better part of the last two days his friend had spent morning noon and night within the manor's library researching a possible solution to their conundrum.
So far the efforts had been fruitless.
Much to his friend's growing annoyance.
And his and Ron's resignations.
"Unfortunately no," Hermione grumbled as she took the offered mug and took a sip.
"Camomile?" The witch asked as she took a moment to look up at her friend.
"Yeah I found some in one of the cupboards, guess Sirius must have kept some for stressful situations," Harry mused aloud with a melancholy sigh.
There was not a day that he didn't miss his long since departed godfather.
"Thanks," Hermione replied, bringing the mug to her lips and taking a tentative sip of the hot beverage.
Much to her chagrin her efforts had been fruitless thus far.
She'd leafed over tome after tomb in the Black library to no avail and as the days ticked by her determination remained ever steadfast if not mixed with a bit of anxiety at the prospect of being unable to find a solution in time.
There were five days remaining before they'd be receiving their letters.
She shuddered at the thought.
The letters that would contain their "perfect" partner so to speak, an individual that would be best compatible to result in wizarding children.
Children
She was only 18, nowhere near an age to have children much less want them.
She understood the severity of the situation, the war had wrought pain and suffering.
Their casualties were deep and severe.
There was a demand.
No a necessity for wizarding children in these dark and dire times.
But not at this cost.
The lack of free will.
It felt wrong.
It was wrong.
A violation of witches and wizard rights.
They had free will.
And was darned if she was going to allow her's to be taken away.
Taking another tentative sip she took a shuddering breath, set her mug down and continued to pour over the current tomb on her lap.
Engagements and Ancient Entanglement Spells
A ye old guide to magical unions
Watching his friend from the entrance to the library Ron Weasley shook his head.
Harry, noticing his tall friend's gaze, walked up to the tall young man.
"Any luck?" Ron asked.
"None so far," Harry responded as he and Ron stared on at their erstwhile friend flipping through the tome.
"For once I think this is one spell Mione won't be able to break," the red head commented as he and Harry watched on.
He'd seen as his friend had dedicated all hours of the day for the past two days to researching a possible out of the spell that the ministry had enacted.
It was an ancient archaic spell.
There was no out.
No loophole.
It was meant to ensure the continuation of their kind.
To ensure that wizarding kind continued and thrived.
He wasn't happy about the situation as much as his friends.
But he understood.
He understood the need and the severity of the situation.
The evening that the initial letter had gone out he'd gone to visit his parents at the burrow.
Much to his amusement,his remaining siblings had had the same idea.
His eldest brother had assured them that he and Fleur were secure in their understanding that they'd be chosen for each other.
Charlie had felt a tad uncomfortable about the situation but had resigned himself to the turn of fate.
George had ranted about the utter rubbishness of the entire situation.
Percy had agreed with the Ministry decree and had therefore not had much to say on the matter.
And then there was Ginny.
She'd been piping mad, the war had just ended. They'd had to bury one of their brothers and the ministry was worried about children?
She'd raged for a good while until their parents had calmed her down.
In the end they'd all been in varying degrees of distress.
But their parents had sat them all down and explained it in detail.
The spell would find the person most compatible for them, so the matches would be agreeable and wouldn't be to horrid people, afterall the point of it was to ensure magical children came of the unions.
It wouldn't do to match them with people not compatible enough to produce children.
It took compatibility, temperament, sexuality, and many other factors into consideration, it was afterall an ancient spell created in times of great distress.
With this in mind Ron had resigned himself to his fate.
Someone that would be most compatible with him? Well at least he wouldn't have to go through the trouble of wooing a young lady down the line. One would be chosen for him, and while it was not the most ideal of situations. It would have to suffice and it wouldn't do for him to be an outright prick to the person that'd be stuck with him.
He'd simply make the most of the situation.
He could only hope his bookwormish friend could as well.
Whoever was chosen for her.
He shuddered at the thought, with as much resistance as Hermione was putting forth to this. Whoever the spell picked for her would be in for quite a battle.
May 25
Dead-end.
Dead-end.
Dead-end.
Dead-end!
Another two days had passed since Hermione had combed through the tomes in the Black family library.
To no avail.
She'd even requested access to the forbidden section at Hogwarts, in the hopes that perhaps the solution could be found there.
To no avail.
The spell was finite.
And locked you in as soon as it was cast.
Any pending engagements would be null if your partner was not the one chosen for you by the spell, much to the aggravation of a certain french national that had been all the eager to voice her displeasure at the dinner they'd all had at the burrow the night previous.
In an attempt to ease the tension Ron had chimed in "If anyone can find a solution its Mione,"
The french witch had taken a hard look at you before saying "we shall see"
It had grated on your nerves, who was she to determine your intelligence, Ron was right you were the Brightest Witch of your age afterall if anyone could figure an out, it was going to be you.
But as the days ticked by you found yourself staring out the library window, it was a cloudy overcast day. A typical day in London.
You watch as a bird flies by and you can't help but feel envy for the freedom it holds.
A freedom that until quite recently you had.
If you truly felt like going against the grain on this, you'd have your wand snapped by the Ministry.
Much like Hagrid had had when he'd been a student and had been falsely accused of a murder he hadn't commited.
It was barbaric.
But it was what the Ministry thought was best.
Much to your consternation.
Bullocks!
You slam your fist down on the window ledge as you screw your eyes shut at the entirety of the situation.
You felt helpless.
"Mione? Are you ok?"
The sudden voice of Ginny Weasley filtered in as the red-headed girl came into the library, coming to stand behind Hermione.
"Sorry Ginny, I didn't know you were coming to visit," you say, turning around to face your friend.
"I came to see Harry," the red head replied, "Might as well before its all finite," she shrugged with an undertone of sadness.
Right.
Too caught up in your own distress, you hadn't stopped to properly think about how those with romantic partners might be feeling.
They had more at stake than you did.
Sure you'd toyed with the idea of asking Daphne Greengrass out after the war.
But that had been a passing thought.
Nothing concrete.
Harry and Ginny were in a romantic relationship of their own.
You could only try to imagine what they both might be going through.
With this in mind, you think back to Fleur's words at dinner the night previous.
She and Bill had decided to put off their wedding till after the war.
The spell and the law put a hold to any plans of marriage they had until their letters came.
And if it was determined that they were not chosen for one another, you could only imagine the outrage.
You could only pity the poor sod that was matched with Fleur if it turned out to be anyone other than Bill.
"Have you given it any thought on who you'll be matched with?" Ginny asks, breaking your train of thought.
"I've been too preoccupied trying to find a way out of this to really give it much thought," your honest reply.
"Just so long as you don't get Malfoy I reckon you'll be fine," Ginny says with a chuckle.
You produce an indignified snort at the thought.
Now there would be the true tragedy.
Matched with Malfoy.
Probably Parkinson.
Their haughty attitudes matched well.
Slytherins.
Thinking about the house of the snakes you can't help but drift to Daphne Greengrass.
You'd flirted all of 6th year in between classes and slug parties.
Neither daring to make a move.
What if you were matched with her?
Now there was a thought.
You unconsciously shake your head.
No!
You could not allow yourself to succumb to the idea that this law was correct.
That you would simply conform to it.
You couldn't.
"Wackspurt got your thoughts?" Ginny asks as she stares at you with an amused expression.
"Something like that," you respond in turn.
Yeah something like that, you can only hope to think as you bid your red-headed friend goodbye and continue your relentless quest for a solution to the looming deadline.
Morgana save you if you couldn't.
May 27
Eternally bonded for all to see
No force in existence could tear apart their union
Bonded forevermore in matrimony
Till this day to their last
It was all going to shite.
Another two days had passed.
Another two days of frustration.
Of distress.
Tomes after tomes combed over for answers.
Possible solutions.
All in a futile attempt.
None had yielded any possible solution thus far.
The deadline ever looming.
Exactly less than 24 hours remained until the blasted letters were set to be delivered.
Hermione had run herself ragged in her attempts to no avail.
And so she sat alone in the Black family library, tome thrown across the room in frustration.
Useless.
It had all been useless.
Her friends, while they'd been somewhat hopeful that their bookworm friend would be able to find a solution of some sort, had succumbed to the reality that in this instance, it was futile.
They needed to straighten out their things before the letters arrived the next day, and straighten they did.
Harry had set his affairs in order, going about enlisting in the Auror program, one to fulfil a long-standing dream and the other to provide for his soon to be spouse. Not that he'd really have a need for money or so Ron had chided one evening over their dinner of soup and bread.
He and Ron had gone through Grimmauld to prepare the master room ready for its new missus. A surprisingly sweet touch Ron had suggested would ingratiate him to his new spouse whoever they may be.
In turn, Ron had enlisted in the Auror program alongside Harry.
He'd been awarded a generous sum of modest means after the war. Reparations of a sort for his part in helping Harry vanquish the Dark Lord, with it he'd purchased a home in the countryside. A comfortable distance away from the Burrow in actuality, to start his family alongside his future spouse, whoever they may be.
He and Harry had spent the better part of the week preparing it and purchasing the necessary things for it to make it a proper home, much to his mum's joy as she'd been overjoyed to see him take responsibility for his future.
His brothers had organized their own affairs in their own way.
Bill had convinced their Aunt Muriel to let him and Fleur visit Shell Cottage to get it ready for their move.
Charlie, having decided to stay in the country after the war, had purchased a decent flat for himself and his future spouse.
Percy had purchased a small home for himself in London, a modest affordable home close to work.
George had simply gone about his business and stated 'whatever bird ends up with me will have to make due with my modest accommodations' and had gone about business as usual.
He'd been set to open up a third joke shop and was heavily focused on his work, since Fred's passing he'd focused all of his efforts into their joke shops as a way to cope with the loss.
Ginny had huffed and stated that she was too young to be thinking of marriage, and that whoever she ended up with would have to get used to her career aspirations coming first before anything else. She'd been over near everyday to see Harry, both in an effort to find solace in one another as the days ticked by and the possibility that they'd be given other partners neared.
And Hermione…..she'd been entrenched in her tomes. Endless books trailed her at all times.
To no avail.
She had a sizable home left to her, of which both Harry and Ron had seen to make a visit or two to make sure it was ready to be inhabited. The least they could do for their friend as she'd had no time of her own to get her own affairs in order.
Speaking of said friend, both boys thought as they made their way up the stairs and into the library.
Before them sat their friend, hair in disarray, clothes crumpled, bags under her eyes and a variety of different books strewn across as she combed through each at an almost in-human speed.
"Mione?" Ron asked, breaking the silence.
The only response a "hmm?" from their frustrated friend.
"Mione?" Harry tried in turn, another "hmm" in response from their friend.
This had been her typical response as the days ticked closer and closer to their deadline.
Looking to one another the young men exchanged a solemn nod before walking to each side of their friend.
Reaching forward they each took ahold of their bookwormish friend's arms and hoisted her up.
"What are you doing!?" Hermione exclaimed in frustration as her best friends held her up.
"Its been near a week Mione," Ron intercedes as he and Harry move her forward, out of the library.
"It has not Ronald!" Hermione retorts as she struggles to dislodge herself from their hold to no avail.
"The deadline is tomorrow Mione, you haven't slept in days and you need a shower," Harry interjects as he and Ron lead their struggling friend to her room.
"But what if I miss a possible solution!?" Hermione tries to defend as she's placed into her room and her friends stand at the entrance, blocking her way of escape, arms folded in front of them.
"Its unavoidable Mione, you need to shower and rest," Ron chides as Harry nods beside him.
They were doing this for their friend's own good, whether she wanted to or not. She needed to take care of herself. It was the least they could do after she'd taken care of them and made sure they ate and got the proper rest during their school days and subsequent horcrux journey.
"Its not unavoidable!" Hermione retorted in frustration, she wasn't any close to a solution but she could not back down. Not now, she would not submit herself to this, not without trying. The dread of the coming day seeping into every fiber of her being.
In less than 24 hours she would find out who her spouse to be would be.
She wanted to scream, she wanted to run.
But deep down she knew Ron's words held truth.
She could not, it was….unavoidable.
With a sigh she drops her head to the side and offers her friends a small nod.
"We'll get started on dinner while you shower," Harry informs in an attempt to provide comfort of some kind.
Hermione can only look up at him and nod.
They were right.
She hadn't wanted to admit it.
But here they were, days later.
No solution in hand.
Deadline looming.
Letters on the horizon.
It was inevitable and she had to make her peace with it.
No matter how much every fiber of her being screamed out in protest.
She would have to submit herself to the pre-chosen partner the future held for her.
She could only hope they were kind.
With that she thanked her friends and informed them she wouldn't be long.
Discarding her clothes she turned the knobs for the shower and adjusted the temperature accordingly.
Only once she was satisfied with the temperature did she allow herself to walk under the spray.
Allowing the luke-warm water to hit her she allowed herself to think to the future.
She could still pursue a career in the ministry, hopefully her future spouse would be agreeable to her desire to be a working woman.
She wanted to enact real change, both in legislation and throughout the ministry as a whole.
Too long had many injustices gone unsolved, most at the expanse of those with mixed and creature blood.
She would change all of that.
She could only hope that her future spouse would be agreeable to her "radical" way of thinking.
And finally, as she looked down at the lower half of her body, she hoped that whoever was chosen for her would be understanding and not react in disgust at her anatomy.
One could only hope.