Thank you for the wonderful reviews-here's chapter 3!

Thank you again to Ren!

The next day, all anyone could talk about, was the Wizard Preservation Act. Hermione had read about it in the Morning Prophet along with everyone else and as much as she hated the idea, she could see where, in the broad sense, it was needed. Most people were not as outraged as Hermione thought that they would be; Moira was actually excited.

"I wonder who I'll be paired up with!" she said to Hermione excitedly, as she handed her boss that morning's collection of messages and memos.

"Who knows?" Hermione said, glancing at the various requests for call-backs as she stood by Moira's desk.

"Aren't you curious?" Moira asked. "Natalie said that the Hat is picking out your soul-mate."

"'Soul-mate'?" Hermione chuckled. "Really? I like to think of it as a roommate arrangement for a year."

"That's not very romantic," Moira frowned at her.

"Arranged marriage isn't romantic, Moira," Hermione told her, before adding, "No matter who does the arranging."

"I'd think that you would be thrilled about the law, Granger," a voice drawled from her left. "Seeing as how it's the only way anyone would ever marry you, that is."

"Oh sod off, Malfoy!" Hermione snapped, without bothering to turn towards him. "I feel for whichever vapid, little girl they stick with you."

"As long as she's gorgeous, what do I care what she thinks?" Malfoy told her. "I don't intend to do much talking with her anyway."

Hermione finally turned around to face him; disgusted. "I hope they bind you to a complete slag, Malfoy," she growled.

"Speaking of slags – Moira, as we're both going to be engaged to others by Friday, I think its best that we don't see each other again. It was nice though," he said, looking into Moira's quickly reddening face. "Maybe next year we'll do it again; I'm sure I'll see you around," he said, casually walking away.

Moira looked as though she were going to die of embarrassment. "Take the rest of the day off, Moira," Hermione said tiredly, as she turned and ran after Malfoy. She slammed into his office, past the yells of his secretary, and he didn't look surprised to see her.

"Need something, Granger?" he asked, his eyes taking in her red face, messed up hair, and wrinkled clothes.

"You are a complete arse!" she shouted at him. "If you had to dump her, did you have to do it like that? In public?"

"Stop hiring pretty little sluts, Granger, and I'll stop shagging them," he said, watching her calmly from his oversized leather chair.

"She'll be completely useless for days, now," Hermione snapped. "You did this on purpose!"

Malfoy leaned forward on his desk. "So it's not her feelings that you're concerned about, it's that her work won't get done?" He grinned maliciously at her. "How very Slytherin of you, Granger. I thought that you Gryffindors always put others first," he tutted, as Hermione stood gaping at him for a moment. "No comment?" he asked, arranging the papers on his desk. "You can go now. As much as I love our little chats, I do have things to do."

Hermione mutely left, having no good reply.

"Damn him," she muttered under her breath.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

The week passed quickly for Hermione. She busied herself with her trade project and tried to forget about the letter she was due to receive Friday. Moira had come back to work after the three days off Hermione had given her, feeling much better. The secretary ignored Malfoy and his smug smiles in the hallways and concentrated on getting her work done. Harry came up to Hermione's office, Friday morning, to warn her that the letters would be arriving at any time.

"Did you see mine?" Hermione asked him, as he took a seat in one of the chairs before her desk.

"No," He shook his head. "I'm going to be involved in the Negotiation Committee, though, so I know that your appointment is tomorrow at two-o'clock. I'll make sure that it's fair." He glanced at the clock and added, "It really should be any time, now. Would you like me to stay?"

"If you can," she said, nervously looking through the open door-way of her office.

"It shouldn't be that bad," Harry said. "The Sorting Hat should make good matches. Hopefully, you'll make a new friend."

"We'll see," Hermione said, as she heard Moira shout, "They're coming!"

Through her open door, Hermione saw a flurry of owls go flying by. She saw one stop at Moira's desk and drop a letter before flying on. Moira stared at the letter; then tore it open.

"Well?" Hermione asked, concerned to know the result of her secretary's betrothal.

Moira scanned the letter. "Dennis Creevy," she said to Hermione. "Do you know him? I can't place him."

"Yes, he's very nice," she said, trying to hide her smile. Obstructed from Moira's view, Harry grinned widely.

"Poor girl," he mouthed towards Hermione.

She was about to reply when another owl made its way into her office. She let it drop the letter it carried onto her desk and fly away again, before slowly picking up the results of her own betrothal.

"Ms. Hermione Granger," it was addressed. "Department of International Magic, Third Floor, Ministry of Magic, London, England,". It was sealed, so Hermione took a deep breath and looked quickly at Harry, before cracking open the letter.

"Dear Ms. Granger," it began.

"In accordance with the Wizard Preservation Act, a husband has been chosen for you by committee. Said choice was made by the Sorting Hat of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, before then being approved by our office. The decision was based on a number of factors, including but not limited to, interest, personality, and intellect. You will enter into negotiations with your fiancée on Saturday, May the twelfth at two-o'clock; you will be represented by Mr. Harry Potter of the Department of Magical Law. Please write down a list of concerns ahead of time and bring them with you.

Below you will find the name and address of your betrothed, should you wish to contact him.

Yours sincerely,

Arturis Thenwidgeon,

Office of Magical Law

Wizard Preservation Act Division"

Hermione let her eyes drift down to the bottom of the page, where her eyes then widened with shock.

"What?" Harry asked as he leaned forward, anxiously. "Who is it?"

Hermione threw the letter at him, with a glare. "'Don't worry, Hermione'," she mimicked, her face turning red in anger. "'How bad can it be, Hermione?' Well, here's your answer."

She watched Harry scan down to the bottom of the page, and his face turn white as he read the name. "Hermione!" he began, but was cut off by a bellowing from down the hall.

"Granger!"