In the morning, I was woken by George.

"Five more minutes," I groaned.

"Mum's going to be up here in a moment to check on us," George said, shaking me again as I tried to shut my eyes. I sprung up instantly at the mention of Molly. "And we got a letter from the Ministry."

"Where is it?" I asked groggily, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

He sat down on the edge of his bed and passed it towards me. "Read it."

"What's it say?"

"I haven't read it yet," he admitted. "I'm a little scared to."

"And you think I'm not," I muttered. "This letter tells us how many kids we have to . . . produce."

He grimmaced slightly, "Oh. I see."

Without retorted a comment, I opened the letter and read it.

"Hermione, you're getting really pale," George said worriedly from where he was sitting. "How many."

"Four," I breathed. The door opened, but I was staring at the number on the paper. It seemed to be getting larger and larger the longer I kept my eyes on it.

"Breakfast, kids," Mrs. Weasley said. "Hermione, dear is that a letter from your parents?"

"No," I said, bitting down the pain that rose when she mentioned my parents. "It's from the Ministry."

"What's it say?" Molly gasped.

"We have to have four kids," George sighed.

"Not including the one due by two years after the marriage," I whispered.

"Five?" George cried. Molly's eyes widened.

"Bring the letter down," Molly said firmly. "I'll talk to the others to see if they got their letters yet."

I nodded as she left, still speechless. George took the letter and started to read it. . . about five times.

"It doesn't change," I whispered. "I already tried it."

"Well, we'll certainly be having a lot of fun," George smirked.

"Oh, you're impossible!" I shrieked.

I rose from the bed, flicking my wand so that it made, and then transfiguring my clothes to some jeans and a t-shirt. I didn't wait for George as I ran down the stairs.

"I'm going to kill him!" I heard Ginny say from the dining room.

"Who?" I asked, silently fuming myself. Why did I have to end up with such an immature man?

"Dean!" Ginny cried. "He got married last night, immediately before he got his letter!"

"So. . . does that mean you're free?" I asked.

She shook her head, "No. They've placed me with someone else."

"Who?" I demanded.

"Malfoy!" She shrieked.

I heard plates clatter in the kitchen and Molly appeared, red faced. "They placed you with Draco Malfoy."

Ginny nodded, fighting tears. "I'm going to kill Dean!"

Molly took a deep breath, "Oh my lord," she breathed out.

She rushed back to the kitchen and Ginny sank down in her chair next to me. "I am serious killing Dean."

"Who'd he marry?" I asked, confused. All witches and wizards were paired up.

"Padma!" she wailed. "Ugh! I'll kill her first! Can you believe it! Draco sodding Malfoy! The ferret!"

"Well on the brightside," I stated. "You only have to get married and have at least one kid, unless the Ministry says different. So, you don't have to worry about having sex all the time."

She sighed in relief, "Thank god!"

George came down, "What's got you shrieking like a banshee?"

"I have to marry a Malfoy," Ginny spat bitterly before getting up and running to the bathroom.

"She's upset," George observed.

I threw him a dirty look, "Would you want to marry Malfoy?'

"No, because that would mean I was gay, which I'm not," George smirked. "And you'd have some troubles if I was gay."

"You're impossible," I repeated before storming out of the dining room to comfort Ginny.

Oh, the irony. . . I love this chap, because of the tears and the way George is terrible . . . to Hermione. kinda. Anyways, review!

-Nastya