Disclaimer!

This work is going to be the most smutty and mature fic I've published, so here is your warning now! I won't be adding disclaimers to each and every chapter, so if the smut is not your cup of tea, feel free to read one of my other works.

For those of you who are still here: welcome! I was planning on getting this fic mostly written before posting anything but, since I've written over six chapters in a week, I decided to go ahead and start getting some out there. I also wasn't 100% sure I wanted to post this on this site, I had planned on only posting it on my Ao3 account, but I knew that some of you would love it, so for now I am going to post it here as well, and I'm hoping I don't end up having to take it down. So here we go!

In terms of posting, I am still getting adjusted to my new work schedule, so I'll do my best to get at least one chapter posted every week, probably on Saturday or Sunday, but I will definitely post other chapters whenever I am able to. Want to get this out as quickly as possible, because I know a lot of fanfic readers are like me and don't want to get stuck with a WIP.

That being said, as I always say I love to get comments from you all, so feel free to drop me a line! I love hearing what you love about the story, as well as constructive criticism to help me make it better.

Hope you all love reading this as much as I've loved writing it so far!

Mwah!

Hermione Granger sat in the train compartment of the Hogwarts Express, giddy with excitement. Not so long ago, she had been certain that she would never ride on this particular train again; never return to the place that had been her home for the better part of six years. But here she was!

In the months following the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione had spent more time at Hogwarts than anywhere else. After all, battles tended to leave a path of destruction in their wake, and the school had certainly borne the brunt of the chaos. The first few weeks had seen the volunteers sleeping on cots in the Great Hall. Part of the reason was that many of them were more comfortable staying in groups, but mainly it was due to the fact that the upper floors and even the staircases had sustained so much damage that they were virtually impassable.

She had worked harder over those few months than she ever had before, and had collapsed onto her cot at the end of each evening, utterly exhausted. The exhaustion was a blessing though: after all, when you were too tired to think, you were also too tired to dream. She and Ron and Harry had all stayed at the school together, working tirelessly to repair the school alongside their Professors, fellow students, and Order members.

Finally, with only three weeks to spare before the new term was set to start, they had accomplished that goal. The stairs were mended, walls were erected once more from the rubble left behind, and corridors had been cleared of the detritus of battle. Hermione and Harry had both gone to the Burrow on Molly Weasley's orders. Knowing that neither of them had anywhere else that they could go, they had both accepted gladly.

The three of them had been sitting around the table one morning with Ginny and Molly, eating breakfast when four owls had swooped in through the open windows and dropped a yellow envelope in front of each person besides Molly.

Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and Ron had all looked at each other, puzzled. While they knew that Ginny's letter should be her letter for the supplies she would need for her seventh year, the other three were uncertain as to why they would be receiving correspondence from Hogwarts.

Hermione was the first to move. Slipping one fingernail underneath the scarlet seal, she popped the wax loose and opened up the letter inside.

Dear Miss Granger,

I am pleased to inform you that the Ministry of Magic, in conjunction with the Wizengamot, has decided to invite all students aged 17-18 back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year.

As last year's curriculum was grossly disrupted for those students in their Sixth and Seventh Years, it has been decided that all students aged 17-19 should return to Hogwarts to complete their magical training. In the event that it is impossible for you to return, please utilize the enclosed form to schedule a time to meet with the Secretary for Education at the Ministry of Magic for an exemption no later than August 31, 1998.

As there will be more witches and wizards above legal age at the school this year due to these unforeseen circumstances, special living accommodations will be made for all Seventh- and Eighth-Year students. More information regarding your final year and living arrangements will be provided to you by Headmistress Minerva McGonagall following the Welcoming Feast.

Enclosed you will find a list of books and equipment necessary for the new school year.

Yours Sincerely,

Filius Flitwick

Filius Flitwick

Deputy Headmaster

Hermione looked up from her letter, a look of shock on her face. Ginny was the first behind her to finish, followed closely by Harry, and then Ron. They all looked at one another in confusion. Molly leaned over to read Ginny's letter and Hermione watched as her hazel eyes widened.

"Well, this is certainly…unexpected," she mused, looking up at the three eighteen-year-olds with an uncertain look in her eyes.

Hermione, naturally, was ecstatic. She had been so disappointed by the realization that she would be unable to formally finish her magical training. While she knew the Seventh Year was not required and that she could sit her N.E.W.T.s without being at Hogwarts, she had felt a pang of sorrow that she would not be able to return for her last year at Hogwarts. It was just another thing that the war had stolen from her: from them all.

Now, though…

She looked at Harry and Ron to see how they were reacting to the news. More specifically, to see how they were reacting to the fact that returning to Hogwarts to redo their Seventh Year was essentially mandatory.

Ron, of course, was the first to speak up.

"We have to go back? How can they even do that? I thought Kingsley said we could go straight into Auror Training!"

Harry said nothing, simply scanned the words on the paper again…and again. He looked up and his vivid green eyes clashed with Hermione's.

"Something's going on," he said quietly, voice ringing with certainty and conviction. "There's something happening that they aren't telling us."

"I agree," said Hermione, "but it doesn't mean that it is anything bad. Besides, this way we will get to finish our schooling!"

Ron groaned loudly at her statement, and she glared in his direction. In spite of the passionate kiss the two of them had shared in the midst of the battle, their brief romance had quickly fizzled out. As much as Hermione loved Ron – and as much as she knew he loved her – there just hadn't been anything more than that initial spark. They were simply too…different. While he had agreed with her feelings and their breakup had been mutual, it still hadn't stopped him from reverting to the snarky boy he had been at eleven years old.

There's nothing wrong with wanting to complete a task. Nothing wrong with having a thirst for knowledge. Nothing wrong with enjoying the learning of new things.

It was a mantra Hermione had said to herself multiple times throughout her life and one she clung to now in the face of her friend's scorn. She would not allow him to ruin this final year for her!

She thought back to that now as she sat in the train compartment with her two best friends. Ginny, Neville, and Luna shared the space with them and, while they were all relieved to be returning to their home away from home, they were all nervous about what the mandated final year would mean. None of them were naïve enough to think that it was simply an effort to educate the generation of witches and wizards that would be joining British Wizarding Society the following year. War left no room for that kind of gullibility amongst its survivors.

Hermione knew that their compartment was not the only one flooded with emotions somewhere between excitement and fright. The unknown was the most terrifying thing that there was, and all of the surviving seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds were wondering what McGonagall's explanation would bring.

The Welcoming Feast had been everything the students could have hoped for. The food was excellent and plentiful and, while an undertone of sadness was present at the sight of so many vacant seats along the benches of every House table, there was still an air of contentment and homecoming among the students and staff present.

Following the feast, Professor McGonagall had stood behind the Owl-shaped lectern to deliver the standard start-of-term warnings and reminders:

The Forbidden Forest is off-limits to all students…

Please avoid the bathrooms in the fourth-floor corridor, as the exterior wall of the castle is still damaged in that spot…

Curfew is at 8 o'clock for all first, second, and third years, and at 10 o'clock for all students fourth year through sixth year. Seventh- and Eighth-year students will have their curfews communicated to them later this evening…

Hermione was surprised by the announcement. Clearly curriculum and living arrangements were not the only things that would be different for them this year.

Finally, Professor McGonagall instructed the Prefects to escort the first years to their houses. After the rather small group of new first years had left the hall, she requested that all Seventh- and Eighth-Year students remain at their tables before dismissing the rest of the student body.

Hermione took the opportunity to look around the room. Now that the younger students had vacated the tables, it was much easier to see who among their years had returned.

For Gryffindor it was only herself and Parvati Patil for Eighth Year girls. The Eighth-Year boys consisted of Harry, Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus. As they had been underage the year before, all of the Seventh-Year girls were present: Ginny, Ava Whitley, Margaret White, Prudence Colter, and Amanda Valens. The boys in that age were not as complete, and Hermione thought sadly of Colin Creevy, who had snuck into the battle and had been found dead in the grounds by Neville and Oliver Wood during the lull in fighting. The other three Seventh Year boys that had returned were Thomas Worley, Harvey Peters, and Lucien Dane.

Looking next at the Ravenclaw table, she didn't know any of the Seventh Years by name, but there were ten present. Only two of the Eighth-Year boys were missing, leaving Terry Boot, Michael Corner, and Anthony Goldstein huddled near one another on the bench. The girls had made it through unscathed, and Padma Patil sat beside Lisa Turpin, Sue Li, Isobel MacDougal, and Mandy Brocklehurst.

Next was the Hufflepuffs. They had not fared as well as the Ravenclaws, and only four of the Eighth Years had made it through the war: Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Zacharias Smith, and Justin Finch-Fletchley. The Seventh Years appeared to be intact as expected: although Hermione wasn't sure of their names either she counted eight.

Finally, her eye strayed to the Slytherin table. While they appeared to be the most intact of the four houses, at least regarding the Eighth Years, they also seemed the most defeated. A silent Pansy Parkinson sat beside a puffy-eyed Daphne Greengrass. Tracey Davis sat to the right of Daphne while Millicent Bulstrode sat on the opposite side of Pansy.

Two boys that she recognized as being from her year, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott, sat in front of the girls and beside a solemn Gregory Goyle and a withdrawn Draco Malfoy. While she certainly knew none of the younger Slytherins, she saw that all four girls and all five boys were sitting, still and silent, on the Slytherin bench as well.

Hermione found herself feeling sympathy for the Slytherins. She was certain that, had it not been for their mandated attendance, most of them would have happily spent the next year in isolation, waiting for the post-war clamor to die down and lessen their infamy a bit. Unfortunately, for whatever reason the Ministry had decreed that they could not do that. Now they were dropped right into the center of the lion's den, so to speak, and left to sink or swim.

She was drawn from her musings regarding herself and the other returning students by the sound of a throat clearing.

"If you all could please stand," Professor McGonagall said, and the sound of the benches pushing away from the tables and scraping on the stone floors echoed in the now mostly empty room. With a wave of her wand, the tables were gone, and another wave brought a massive round table. McGonagall stood in the hole at the middle of the circular table.

"Come forward and take a seat around the table here, if you please."

There was silence as all sixty-two witches and wizards trudged to the table.

"I appreciate you all waiting so patiently for an explanation regarding the…oddity of this school year for you, and the letters you received before the start of term. I would like to explain the circumstances fully to you all. Before I do, however, I need your agreement to listen to my explanation calmly and without any outbursts, like the adults that you all are."

Hermione met Harry's worried green eyes for a moment before turning back to face McGonagall. No words were spoken but every head nodded in agreement. She watched as the Headmistress took a fortifying breath before plunging into her explanation.

"As you all are perfectly aware, the war that we so narrowly won has decimated the wizarding population of Great Britain. The Ministry of Magic is concerned that the dip in population could lead to our world becoming overwhelmed by the Muggle world. Without enough witches and wizards, our safeguards and securities will eventually fall, and there will be nothing left of our government.

"In light of this population crisis, the Ministry decided to take…affirmative action to attempt to resolve the issue. Their original solution was a Marriage Law."

While everyone present kept their word and there was no outburst, Hermione could feel the tingle of angry magic brushing against her body as the others around her took in the older witch's words.

"I want to ensure you all that this Marriage Law was not passed," McGonagall said firmly. "Many of us lobbied against the idea and convinced the Ministry that this would be a mistake of epic proportions to force people your age into marriage and children in such a way."

The sigh of relief amongst her classmates was nearly palpable, but Hermione saw the look of nervousness in the normally iron-willed Headmistress and knew that the issue was not going to be so easily settled.

"Unfortunately," she said, and Hermione braced herself for whatever was coming, "they decided upon a different solution that would coincide with a different type of Marriage Law... Their solution is more of a Bonding Law, and I am afraid that you all are the ones that will be impacted the most by it.

"It was decided that an old and ancient magic would be reawaked to ensure that each of you would find the person that is the most compatible with your personality and magic, but also that you will have the most likelihood of gaining a…fruitful…union with."

Hermione immediately noticed the Pure-Blooded witches and wizards around the table sharing fearful glances and knew that once again there was something that her blood status prevented her from knowing. Even Ron had gone deathly pale, his freckles standing out starkly against his ivory skin.

"A spell will be cast over the school at the end of this week that will reactivate a long dormant trait inside all witches and wizards inside the building between the ages of seventeen and nineteen. This trait is a remnant of our earliest ancestors and was the only reason our lines did not die out centuries ago but, when it became more common for witches and wizards to marry Muggles, the trait was ignored until it went dormant.

"The Ministry has decided to reactivate that trait in all of you, and your attendance at Hogwarts this year was deemed mandatory to ensure that each of you found your mate."

Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat. Mate? They were not animals. What in the world was Professor McGonagall talking about?

"Pardon me, Headmistress," came a soft voice, and the heads of every student present, as well as that of McGonagall herself, turned to face the pale-skinned wizard with his platinum blonde hair and icy blue eyes that sat surrounded by his fellow Slytherins. Draco Malfoy continued with his question once he had the Headmistress's attention.

"What exactly is the trait that the Ministry will be forcibly reawakening inside all of us?' he asked, motioning his hand in a broad circle to indicate himself and the rest of the 61 witches and wizards around him.

Hermione's head turned back to McGonagall, and she watched as the Headmistress released a weary sigh before meeting Malfoy's eyes. Even from the other side of the space, Hermione could see the resignation and…pity…in the older witch's eyes before she answered his question.

"The Alpha/Omega trait, Mister Malfoy."