Happy December to you all! Thanks for taking a chance on this story. There's a lot in this chapter.

Disclaimer: These are Ms. Rowling's characters! I own nothing.

Chapter 3: In Which Neville Forms a Plan

Neville Longbottom was an unhappily unmarried man.

Very unhappily unmarried. Wretchedly miserable, actually.

That misery was a brand new phenomenon. He had been quite happy in his single status as of twenty minutes ago, but that was before he learned that his Ministry was giving him an ultimatum—be married by January 1 or hand over your wand. What kind of choice was that? Particularly since the only witch who had caught his eye was too young to be eligible. Even in the best of all possible worlds, he didn't want to marry her now. Maybe six or seven years from now, when they were both settled in their careers and knew themselves a little better.

Not that it mattered, he thought glumly. She was almost mythical in his mind, a free spirit who wouldn't be shackled by a man as staid and ordinary as he was.

Truth be told, he barely thought of himself as a man. The cake his Gran had ordered for him last month carried eighteen candles—eighteen!—and that wasn't enough to make someone ready for marriage, was it?

Hearing Hermione's declaration had given him a boost of confidence. Why did Ron and Harry think they had to go along with the Marriage Law? he wondered. They never went along with any of the other things the Ministry had inflicted upon them before.

Neville considered his own status. He was a Longbottom, which meant that he was supposed to marry someone who wasn't a Pureblood. That meant that a certain blonde Ravenclaw was still technically available to him, although she didn't come of age until after the law went into effect.

"Say, Hermione," he began, scouring the article in the Daily Prophet again for good measure, "do you know what they'll do with people who are too young for the Marriage Law?"

"Like who?" she asked. She had already regained her cool after Ron had stomped off to the backyard. Now she was sitting almost demurely as she sipped her tea.

"Like Ginny?" Harry offered.

"Er... Right," Neville said. "Like Ginny." He looked at Harry. The two of them had so much in common: both Gryffindors, birthdays a day apart, no parents to guide them through life. But there were some big differences as well. Everybody knew that Harry was incredibly brave. He was also clever and good at Quidditch and popular. When it came to girls, Harry was the luckiest bloke alive. Even without asking, Harry knew that the girl of his dreams would say yes when he proposed. Neville wanted to be happy for his friend, he did, but he also hoped that Harry appreciated his good fortune. Harry didn't have to panic about badgering a girl into matrimony. The only date Neville had ever been on was with Ginny Weasley to the Yule Ball, and she had just been being nice to him. The whole time, the only person she really wanted to be with was Harry. "Harry, how will you marry her if she's not of age?"

"Well," George said, buttering another slice of toast, "Gin's birthday was last week, so she's fine." He piled up a plate of food and headed out to the garden to talk some sense into his younger brother, leaving Neville, Harry, and Hermione to themselves.

"Harry," Hermione said, a note of warning in the timbre of her voice, "You're not going to deny her an education, are you? She still has a year left of school."

"No, no! I would never do that. I couldn't anyway. Ginny would hex me within an inch of my life. I figure I'll propose now, and we'll marry when... when..." Distracted by some unspoken thoughts, he whipped out his edition of the newspaper again, and his eyes scanned the pages. "They wouldn't make her marry while she's at school, would they?"

"Nope!" Neville declared triumphantly. He pointed to the line in the article that described the rolling implementation of the Marriage Law as people came of age. "It says that they get six months after their N.E.W.T.s before the law applies to them or six months after they come of age, whichever comes last."

"That's something, at least," Hermione huffed. "I would have had to have words with Kingsley if he denied us our education."

"Marrying us off like cattle wasn't enough?" Neville asked.

"Only those of you who stick around," she said, winking at her friend.

"Er... How will that work for Gin and I, then?" Harry asked. "Six months after my N.E.W.T.s is the middle of March, and she'll still be in school."

"How can Minister Shacklebolt keep you from marrying who you want to marry?" Neville asked. "I know you don't want all the attention about defeating Voldemort, but...but... Doesn't he sort of have to give you whatever you want? You are Harry Potter, after all."

Harry looked thoughtfully. "I don't want to get an extra favor just because of my name."

"Harry James Potter!" Hermione cried. "You are not asking for special treatment when you're asking to opt out of one aspect of this horrid, horrid law. Look at you! You're actually willing to go along with the thing, which is more than most people will do."

Neville wondered about Hermione's theory. Would most people fight the law? He assumed that most people would simply find someone and throw a big party with a white dress and a cake. He'd grown up in an old Wizarding family, and he had never heard of any kind of revolt against the government. Outside of the medieval riots that Professor Binns intoned in History of Magic class, of course.

"Maybe I will," Harry asserted. "It's the least Kingsley could do, isn't it?"

"It shows a gaping hole in the law, " Hermione added. She sliced open a grapefruit and attacked it with one of those pointy spoons. "Right now, people can pick who they want to marry. It doesn't matter if one of them is older or younger than any other. Yes, it's still awful in every conceivable way, but there's some level of choice involved."

Neville nodded. Hermione was scary brilliant. Even more terrifying than his Gran. He didn't think Kingsley stood a chance against her in an argument, or any other wizard, for that matter. He'd even seen her put Dumbledore in his place on one occasion. Well, he reasoned, Professor Snape could have kept up with her. He had died in the final battle, though, so Hermione was now in a class all her own.

"Now think about what would happen in a year if Kingsley doesn't make any changes to the law," Hermione said. "Everyone has to get married within six months of graduation. That means that the only person anyone will ever marry will have to be in their year at Hogwarts. Everyone older than you would already be married, and everyone younger would be ineligible for the law. That's terrible! You might as well tell everyone at Hogwarts that they can't even date someone outside their year. What's the point? They'll have to marry someone else, someone in their year, right after they finish up at school."

"I didn't think about that," Harry said.

"I didn't, either," Neville agreed. "This marriage law business isn't even well thought out, is it?"

Hermione just hung her head.

"Do you think Kingsley and the Wizengamot even considered what would happen in the future?" Neville asked. Everything that Hermione said made so much sense. Surelysomeonein the government would have taken all of these issues into consideration.

"I don't know," she replied. "I know they're worried about the rising Squib population, but this isn't the way to solve that problem. We need a plan."

Neville silently agreed.

"Why, they could be encouraging people to get to know their Muggle neighbors," she continued. She stabbed at her grapefruit one last time before throwing it onto the table. "That would rebuild the population much faster."

George and Ron finally returned from the garden, both slightly grubbier than when they had left.

"Ten gnomes over the fence in less than a minute," Ron bragged. He looked like he was waiting for some sort of congratulations."Dad'll be so disappointed."

Hermione wrinkled her nose and shot Cleaning Charms at both of them before they sat down again at the table.

"Charlie got two dozen in under a minute once," George stated. He poured the last of the coffee from the percolator into his cup. "He's got the record to beat."

"Oy, Charlie!" Ron said, slapping himself on the forehead. "What's he going to do? Has he got to marry a British girl or what?"

They all looked to Hermione for answers.

She shrugged. "I don't think it matters if she's British or not, but I think he still has to get married. If he follows the law, that is."

"I don't think he's ever wanted to get hitched," George said, speaking slowly and methodically. "He dates a fair bit, but he's never been serious about a girl." He slung one arm around Neville's shoulder. "Drives mum crazy, it does."

"What if he refused to come back to England?" Harry asked. "What would happen then?"

"I wonder..." said Hermione. She was staring off into space, a look of calculation on her face. "Outside of England? Hmm..."

"Wonder what?" George asked.

"I've got to talk to some people," Hermione said, shaking herself out of her reverie. "I'll let you know once I've developed a plan."

The others debated the fate of the second eldest Weasley while they cleaned up their plates and squeezed all the leftover food back into the refrigerator.

All the while, Neville thought about a girl. A sweet girl with more bluntness and honesty and goodness in her pinky finger than anyone else had in their whole body. "Say, Harry," Neville piped up, "when you talk to Kingsley, you should bring all of this to his attention. Extending it from six months to a year or more. Not just for you," he said, gulping and blushing past his collar, "but for everyone."

N.E.W.T.s came and went.

Neville had been thrilled to knock out six Excellents and one Outstanding. The top score came in Herbology, to nobody's surprise. His great-aunt Enid had baked him a strawberry shortcake for the family dinner after the results had been owled to him. He and Aunt Enid and Gran and great-uncle Algie had only eaten half the cake, so he brought the leftovers on his next trip to St. Mungo's.

His elder relatives were excited as they could be for him, but he wanted to celebrate with his mum and dad. Since he'd finished at school, he made it a point to visit his parents every Sunday afternoon at St. Mungo's. He realized they didn't know what the cake was for, but they realized that something special had happened. Strawberries were one of his mum's favorite things to eat. Before he left, she pulled him out of his chair and danced with him up and down the halls of the closed ward, laughing and humming all the while.

One pressing question for him now was whether he should continue working with the Harry and Ron and the Aurors as they rounded up Voldemort supporters, or start advanced Herbology training with Professor Sprout. He was flattered that Kingsley had recruited him after the war, but it hadn't taken long for Neville to realize that an auror's life was not for him. Professor Sprout, on the hand, had been chatting about early retirement for a few years now and was looking for her replacement. Neville had been on her shortlist of candidates since his fifth year.

The other question was what to do about this Marriage Law. While he was preparing for exams, he blocked all thought of the law from his mind. Now that the tests were over, he had to figure out what to do about it. So far, his plan was to pretend that it didn't exist and wait for the Aurors to show up on his doorstep, ready to snap his wand in half. They might even be some of the same Aurors he had been working with over the past few weeks. They irony was not lost on him.

After a week of reflection and many long chats with Gran, Neville moved his belongings into a spare bedroom at Hogwarts. It was strange being there as neither a student nor a professor, but it was much more comfortable to have his own room than to share with everyone in a gradually expanding Room of Requirement as he had during the previous year. The castle itself was mostly rebuilt, but there were still a few damaged classrooms, and a portion of the Charms wing was warded off from any wandering students.

Neville took most of his meals in his quarters, although sometimes he joined Ginny at his old house table for dinner. If he sat at the far end, he could spy the Ravenclaw table just on the other side of the Hufflepuff table. Other days, he met George in Hogsmeade at the Hog's Head. Aberforth made a mean Welsh rarebit. The rest of his time was spent in the three small greenhouses Professor Sprout had given over to his care.

One day in September, Neville's galleon from their old DA meetings buzzed on his nightstand. Shrieking Shack, Saturday, 3pm.

Thanking Merlin and all the Founders, Neville collapsed on his bed in relief. Hermione must have devised a plan for them all. It also happened to be the first Hogsmeade weekend, so everyone from the DA who was Luna's year or younger was also free to meet up. When Neville arrived, there were already a dozen or so people gathered there: Cho, Justin, Seamus, Ernie, Harry, Ron, Luna, Ginny, Michael Corner and many others.

Luna walked up to him right away. "Hello, Neville. Who have you selected to marry?"

He frowned. "Do you...Do you agree with the law, Luna?"

"No," she replied. "I understand that the members of the Wizengamot are afraid for our future. They needn't be," she said thoughtfully, a soft smile on her radiant face, "but you cannot reason with those who live in fear."

He nodded.

"Are you not getting married?" she asked.

"I can't—No, more than that, I won't—marry unless it's for love." He buried his hands in the pockets of his trousers, kicking the dirt at his feet aimlessly. "It's not right."

"No," she said, sighing. "It's not."

"Hermione was talking about defying the law," he added. "I don't know what it's going to take, but I'm going to fight it."

"Me, too, Neville. There are so many things that are more important than magic." Luna smiled again, slipping her arm through the crook of his elbow. "Freedom and choice, for starters. Family. Friends."

With this girl beside him, telling him she still on his side, Neville was so happy he felt his heart could burst out from behind his ribcage. Luna was with him, and Hermione had figured a way out of this miserable law for all of them.

A large wooden box in the corner shifted to the center of the room, and Hermione climbed atop it. "Can I get everyone's attention?"

The chatter slowed to a halt.

"I asked you all here today to discuss the Ministry's unjust Marriage Law." She pounded her fist in her hand as she spoke.

"Hear, hear," Ernie Macmillan called out.

"Yes, thank you," Hermione said. "Should we be forced to marry against our will?"

The crowd answered in a staggered unison. "No!"

"Should our lives be dictated by a corrupt Ministry?"

"No!"

The energy in the room was undeniable.

Hermione's smile grew, clearly happy that the members of the DA were behind her. "Are we merely breeding stock for the government?"

"No!"

"What are we going to do about it?"

"No!" cried Seamus.

Everyone turned to look at him.

"Sorry," he replied, chagrined. "I got carried away."

"Right," Hermione said, taking control of the meeting. "I don't know about all of you, but I'd rather disembowel myself with a broom than offer myself up in marriage and start popping out babies." A murmur of approval and agreement ran through the room. "As far as I can see it, we each have three options. Option one, we stay here and obey the law. We marry and breed for the government. Do we want this?"

The Shrieking Shack resounded with another collective cry. "No!"

"Option two, we stay in the country, but our wands are stolen from us. Our magic is hindered just because we want control of our own lives. Do we want this?"

"No!"

"And option three. This one isn't easy, but I think it's the best choice we have." Hermione held her breath as she surveyed the group of her friends gathered around her. She exhaled slowly. "We can keep our wands if we leave Britain." She hurried through the rest of the information. "Hopefully, we won't have to leave for long. Just until the Wizengamot repeals the law. I've talked with citizenship and immigration services in about a dozen countries. So far, Canada, Australia, Poland, Sweden, and Denmark have all offered protection to people fleeing the Marriage Law."

Several people in the Shrieking Shack started whispering their questions to one another.

"Protection?" Justin Finch-Fletchley asked aloud. He looked skeptically at Hermione, arms crossed in front of his chest. "What kind of protection?"

"I'm glad you asked," she responded. "We would be considered political refugees. It's a status given to people who can't stay in their home country because they would be persecuted by an unjust law."

"Would we ever get to travel home?" Cho Chang asked.

Hermione shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid not. You could try it, but you would risk getting caught. Then you're at the whim of the Wizengamot again, and, I think you'll agree that they're not terribly reasonable these days."

Judging by the frustrated grumbles of most of the people gathered there, they were not happy about this option.

"But your family can visit you," Hermione shouted quickly, trying to win the crowd back to her side. "They can take a Portkey and visit you wherever you end up living. Or you can fly the Muggle way."

This placated everyone in the room.

Almost everyone.

Neville's chest caved in on itself. It was a physical ache, a pain the likes of which he'd only ever experienced a few times in his life. If he wanted to defy the Marriage Law and leave the country, he'd have to abandon his parents. It was all unbelievably unfair. Nobody else had to leave their families, since they could travel to be with them. His folks deserved to have people they loved spend time with them. They deserved so much more than they had been given. Without his visits, it was just his gran, Algie, and Enid. They were all getting older, and he had no idea how long it would take to repeal the Marriage Law.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Hermione realized the implications of what she'd said. She gasped, then glanced his way, obviously trying not to cry.

Hannah Abbott had her hand raised.

Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, snapping back to attention. "Yes, Hannah?"

"Where will live? Houses, apartments?" She looked around the room nervously, not wanting to air the financial questions that some of the wealthier students wouldn't understand. "How much will it cost our families to pay for this?"

"It depends a little bit on which country you end up at. Most have agencies that will pay for all the expenses during your first year there—housing, groceries, and health care. After that, you're on your own, but they will help you find a job or money to pay for further schooling, even language lessons if you need them."

The meeting went on from there, but Neville had stopped listening. Pulling away from the girl by his side, he walked outside into the light, sinking down on his knees in the grass.

If he wanted to honor his parents, there was only one choice he could make.

NEXT CHAPTER: In Which Severus Takes a Chance

Severus Snape was a dead man.

Really, dying was the best thing that ever happened to Snape. There were no snivelling students to corral, there were no taxes to pay, and no laws to obey. Now that the Ministry had decided to stick its meddling nose in the affairs of its citizens' bedrooms, there was, in particular, no marriage law to obey.

Oh, Neville.