We're back! I've been writing this one quite a bit, so we're very ahead here. We're going for a more realistic approach to a Marriage Law in this, so it's likely going to be a slower burn than is my usual. I'm so very excited about this, and I appreciate all of you!
Bookcozy: Ahhh, thank you! I'm so excited about this one. I love marriage law fics, I don't even know why. And I simply could not kill Fred. It just wasn't happening for me that day. I live under a delusion that he's still alive, so that's where we are here LOL. I do so enjoy writing his banter too. He's such a goof. I'm glad Ron didn't come across as too horrible. He's always been a bit crass, but it's hard to balance that with not making him overly crass. He's a difficult character to write, and so many people adore him, so it's hard to walk the line.
NanHackett: Thank you for sharing your thoughts! As far as the internet goes, I think the U.K. would have had dial up as of 1992, but it would have been rare, I agree. We're putting the Grangers far ahead of the curve there — I always sort of pictured them as the kind of people who would be as excited to learn something new as Hermione, so that's my thought process there, if it makes sense lol. Also, I could not kill Fred — I considered it, and though I do love angst to a degree, I couldn't do it to George. Hermione's angst in this will be enough as is LOL. Plus he's just perfect, I'm still in denial.
Chapter Two
Dinner that evening had ended far less euphoric than it had started. Shouts of outrage and disbelief had rang out in the humid evening air. Hundreds of shouted questions that neither Mr. or Mrs. Weasley had known how to answer. Percy had gaped at the paper in front of him as if he didn't quite understand what he was seeing. Ginny had burst into tears, and looked at Harry as if he might disappear from beside her. The twins had risen angrily, threatening to find Kingsley themselves and feed him Puking Pastilles until he told them what the hell was happening.
Hermione had just frozen completely in her chair. It didn't feel real….whatever this was. Surely it was a mistake? Surely it was a nightmare or just something she'd hallucinated.
There was simply no way that the Ministry could go through with something like this. She'd risked her life to return the world to something close to normal again. She'd fought to give people their rights back…she'd fought for a Ministry that was free and fair. She'd fought to keep people like herself free from being chained to the beliefs of others. There was no way — simply no way — that this could be real. There was no way that she had put in all of that work, survived the number of horrors that she had, just to be placed in another chain.
She didn't want to be married. She didn't want to be a mother. There were a thousand other things she wanted to do before she had children and a husband. She wanted a career, she wanted to travel, she wanted to read new literature, and learn how to cook. She wanted to experience the world, and learn about who she was as a person outside of the straight-laced bookworm that had always saved Harry and Ron. She wanted to fix things with her parents, so that they could be part of her children's lives — assuming she made the choice to have them to begin with. She'd never really considered it much. Practically speaking, she hadn't even been sure that she'd survive the war. There was no use in considering something that might not happen at all.
And once it had all ended, she'd wanted to just…live her life instead.
She could do all of those things with children, of course. That's what people were going to tell her anyway. And it was true. Plenty of people worked with children, and traveled with children, and found time for hobbies with children — the difference was that she didn't want to do those things with children. At least not yet…eventually, maybe, but not yet. Not any time soon.
She couldn't move. She couldn't look at Ron. She couldn't look at the rest of them. She was nowhere near prepared to make these sorts of decisions. She was only nineteen. How could she be forced into this position?
Maybe she wouldn't be. Maybe there was a loophole somewhere, an exception that could be made. She'd sacrificed so much as it was, hadn't she? It was selfish to expect special treatment just because she was a member of the coveted Golden Trio. There were others that had sacrificed as well that would not be granted exceptions. She almost didn't care though. She almost wanted to pull the string anyway, to beg the Ministry to grant her a pass, or let her delay the thing entirely.
She could always use her personal freedom from the law to help overturn it for those that had been shackled by it. She would spend her time making it up to them. It was the decent thing to do. It was the just thing to do.
She didn't know. She didn't know what she could do or what she could ask for. She didn't know how to fight back against this. It wasn't a physical threat, it wasn't something she could hex or charm or shield into disappearing from her life. It wasn't an exam that could be passed with hours of relentless studying or color-coded revision charts. It wasn't something she could outrun.
She didn't know how to fight against something like this, even though she wanted nothing more than to fight it.
She didn't like not knowing. She needed to know. She needed the answers and the solutions, she needed a plan of action. She needed lists and planners and charts. Everything had a place, every problem had a solution, every cause had an effect. This one…this one didn't make sense to her. It was the lack of control that made her want to spiral. It was the lack of answers that stopped her breath in her chest.
She needed more information to determine what she was supposed to do now, and she wasn't going to get that any time soon. The article had made it clear that the Ministry had not even intended for the information to be reported until the letters with aptitude and personality testing had been mailed. Likely to avoid any backlash from the public.
Someone within the Ministry had leaked the information to the Prophet, under the protection of anonymity. They hadn't provided any specifics. Only that letters with pairings would go out the first week of July and that the law would mandate that wizards and witches within a certain, unspecified age group would be required to marry and produce a child within a specified timeframe.
Personally, the lack of information provided by the whistleblower caused more panic than help. And neither Percy nor Mr. Weasley, both of whom worked within the Ministry, had known that they were even considering the legislation. It was a centuries old law that he wasn't sure of the particulars of any more than the rest of them.
The only way he'd gotten the twins to stop shouting had been to send a Patronus to Kingsley requesting more information. Kingsley had responded near immediately, despite the late hour, and Hermione was sure that that was not a good sign, or done out of the kindness of his heart. He was likely being hounded by the outrageous public and putting in long hours to smooth things over.
He'd agreed to meet with them at the Burrow for dinner the following evening to go over things with them, though he requested they keep his agreement to themselves. He was bound by oath to keep the information close to the vest.
It was all Hermione could do to sleep that evening, and she and Ginny hadn't even had it within themselves to talk to each other about the horrible news they'd received. Ginny hadn't appeared like she'd wanted to part from Harry at all, but Hermione had nearly had to beg Ron for the time alone to work through her thoughts and emotions.
It was all so convoluted in her head, and by the time dinner the next evening had rolled around, there was not a single smile at the table. Mr. Weasley attempted to keep the conversation light, speaking loudly to Bill and Fleur and Mrs. Weasley in an attempt to keep conversation rolling while they waited for Kingsley.
It was no use. None of them had the heart to even attempt to smile or laugh or hold a conversation. Even the twins looked like they were waiting for something horrible to come barging through the door. They all looked like death had come to stand before them, despite the fact that every one of them could say they'd already seen that happen in real life.
They'd faced life or death situations for the last four years, and yet this was the thing that felt debilitating and unimaginable.
Hermione watched the clock anxiously, not even bothering to touch the food on her plate, despite Mrs. Weasley's worried clucking. Kingsley was nearly an hour late. She couldn't stand not knowing for another evening.
She'd only ever not known what to do one time before, and it was as painful now as it had been then.
She ran her hand over the scar that had been left on her forearm as if trying to remind herself that it was still there.
Mudblood.
She'd learned to cover it with spells and some form of cosmetic paste that the twins used for their WonderWitch line. She ordered large quantities of the stuff anonymously to avoid any questions from either of them, but she couldn't stand the reminder of that day.
The reminder that she'd been helpless with no way out. The reminder that she had all the knowledge in the world, but was still going to die at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange.
She also couldn't stand the sight of the angry red bump that would never heal. That angry, red, disgusting word that was a reminder that she would always be seen as something dirty and disgusting. Something less than the rest of them.
And, of course, deep down, she knew that she wasn't less than. She knew that her blood wasn't dirty. She knew that none of it was her fault.
But knowing and feeling were two entirely different things, unfortunately. And all the rational thoughts in the world couldn't explain away those emotions.
She jumped when the fireplace in the mantle lit with green flames, and she straightened, watching as Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped out of it, looking grim and more stressed than she was used to from him.
Normally the sight of him was reassuring, but she'd never dreaded seeing a human more in her life than she had in that very moment. He was dressed in robes of a splendid purple with the same gold hoop earring he always wore. He was still so very tall, but she'd never seen him so…on edge. Even at the height of Voldemort's reign, he'd been calm and collected. He'd known what to do and when to do it, where to hit that would cause the most losses to the Death Eaters.
That calm control was the reason he'd been made Minister of Magic after Voldemort's downfall, and he'd had a very high favorability record among the magical population since he'd been promoted to the position.
It was not a good sign that he looked so stressed now. It gave her very little hope that this was something that could be solved or overturned. If he'd had hair, she was sure it would have been graying from the weight on his shoulders.
He smiled at Mrs. Weasley and let her pull him into a hug. He shook Arthur's hand, then Harry's, then Percy's before he looked around at them all.
"It's good to see you all again," he said, his voice just as deep and reassuring as it had always been, despite the stress lines around his eyes and forehead. "Though I certainly wish it were under better circumstances."
Ginny's hand grabbed Hermione's under the table as she waited for the questioning to start. Hermione's hand tightened on Ron's leg, as if she were hoping he'd keep her grounded. He tried to smile reassuringly at her, but it mostly came across as a grimace.
She knew the feeling.
"Are you hungry, Kingsley?" Mrs. Weasley said immediately, hurrying to gather food for the man, but he waved her away.
"No, no, I can't be gone long. They're expecting me back in an hour —"
"Well then let's cut the niceties and someone explain to me what the bloody hell the Ministry thinks it's doing!" Fred said angrily.
"Show some respect, Fred!" Percy hissed in horror. "He's the Minister —"
"We don't give a good goddamn who he is, Percy," George said, his jaw clenched tightly. Hermione wasn't sure she'd ever seen the twins so angry. "Right now, he's the only person with answers as to why I'm going to be forced into marriage, and I'd like to quit being jerked around."
"Boys," Mr. Weasley said sharply before turning to look at Kingsley worriedly. "Is it true? They're really going through with this?"
Kingsley frowned, but nodded his head once. There was a whole line of swearing that made its way down the table that Mrs. Weasley didn't even comment on, too busy trying not to let her concern pull her to tears. Ginny had started crying again, her hands squeezing Harry's and Hermione's until it almost felt like the bones might break.
"How?" Mrs. Weasley said, horror struck. "How can this be happening, Kingsley? They want to force people — they want to force my babies into marriage? This is unacceptable —"
"I've made the arguments, Molly," Kingsley said, sounding tired. "I've implored them to see reason. Marriages and pregnancies are on the rise after the war, the population is not so far dwindled that we need to resort to these measures, but they — they're concerned about their pureblood lines —"
Hermione scoffed angrily, her hands clenching over Ron's leg again. He winced but didn't say anything, seeming otherwise too horrified to speak.
"Their pureblood lines," she spat. "Do they hear themselves? We fought to end that sort of bigotry, Kingsley! This law is a mere means to continue it! It's disgusting, and demeaning! We're human beings, not brood mares for fuck's sake!"
There was a flicker of a grin on Fred's face and he nudged George with his arm.
"Never thought I'd hear the day that Granger swore," he said, a weak attempt to lighten the mood.
"Suppose that means hell is freezing over, eh?" George snorted, sounding like he was only half-joking.
Kingsley sighed heavily, looking at Hermione with a sort of pity that she did not appreciate.
"I know, Hermione," he said tiredly. "I've explained this to them. I've been speaking with members of the Wizengamot for weeks now, trying to get them to see that this is merely another shackle. I thought I'd convinced them…I didn't even expect that they'd actually vote to pass it into law…"
"How close was the vote?" Percy said pompously. "Perhaps if it was close enough, we could —"
"35 in favor, 15 dissent," Kingsley interrupted before he could get his hopes up. There was a resounding silence across the table, and Hermione could hardly believe that so many of them would have…would have thought this acceptable.
"And there's nothing you can do?" Mrs. Weasley said, sounding dejected. "This is marriage, Kingsley. This is — this is not a momentary commitment."
"My hands are tied, Molly," Kingsley said, looking out at them all. "The Wizengamot is full of elected officials, who have been voted into power by the people they represent. I am only able to place my own vote in the event of a tie. This was nowhere close to that."
"Are there exceptions made?" Hermione said sharply.
Kingsley pulled a large stack of documents from inside his robes and handed them to her.
"I imagined that you would want to go over the law backwards and forwards," he said, sounding amused. "I made copies, though you must never let anyone know I gave them to you. Both versions of the law are included —"
"Both versions?" Ginny said weakly. Kingsley smiled at her kindly, despite her silent tears.
"The original law was…outdated," he explained. "It was originally put in place during the Witch Hunts of the 14th century to help with the dwindling population —"
"I thought that most of the population survived those," Ron said next to her, as she flipped through the papers in front of her, skimming the language idly. It was all convoluted and technical. It would take her time to work through. "I remember writing an essay for Binna on why burning was pointless —"
"People still died," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "Wizards and witches who knew how to use wandless magic or knew what spells to use would survive, but they didn't spare children. They were easier to spot for Muggles because they had less control of their magic and the fear that magic inspired in Muggles at that time…they didn't always give them fair trials. Or tell their parents before they were burned. Without anyone to protect them, they had no way to fight back."
"That's sick," Harry said, looking green.
"It was the start of wizard hatred for Muggles," Hermione said. "Wizards were forced to lead double lives to protect themselves and their families, and anyone who associated with Muggles at that time was suspect, often ostracized by their magical peers. Wizards became resentful, most of them felt that they had the upper hand on Muggles and that they should take matters into their own hands. Muggle-borns were seen as objects to control, a lot of them were killed as people believed that they were the reason that wizards were being slaughtered by their less powerful counterparts. Eventually that evolved into being undeserving of their magical abilities, and then to being dirty — a concern to taint the pureblood legacy."
It was disgusting, no matter how she spun it. Human beings were capable of such evil on both sides, and yet there were so few souls who bothered trying to make changes for peace. They simply let the anger eat at them, let it overpower their reasoning skills and allowed it to push them toward murder and discrimination rather than fixing the root cause.
"The law was intended to help replenish those lost children," Kingsley said. "Though they didn't often catch real witches and wizards, they caught enough of us for there to be some concern. As it stands, most of the original law is extremely misogynistic. Witches had no choice in the pairing, but they also had no rights. Men would…bid for them, and the highest bidder was her partner, no matter the relation they had, their blood status, or their compatibility. Muggle-borns were often selected last, and given to men who were none too kind to them — the lowest of our society; criminals, murderers, abusers. They had no exceptions for domestic abuse or adultery. Marriages at that time were binding and unable to be broken. Women were also often forced to bear children, and many of them died on birthing beds. They were expected to carry children immediately after they gave birth to another, and they were unable to make choices for themselves. Men had complete control in the marriage, so unless they were lucky…"
"Merlin's beard," Percy said, looking sick, and tugging at the collar of his shirt as if it were strangling him.
"And the new rendition?" Hermione said, the horror of it hitting her anew.
She'd considered not wanting to be married, but the larger implications she'd glossed over for the time being. She could be paired with anyone…she could be paired with a Death Eater that had gotten off or a pureblood supremacist who had not helped Voldemort but would be no less condemning of her.
"The new rendition is the only hand they let me have in the decision," Kingsley said, running a hand over his head. "Since they passed the law last week, I've been working with the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, trying to correct the wording to benefit the population as much as I was able. The new law will require compatibility testing to be completed prior to the selection of your…partner. I suspect you'll be receiving those tomorrow, as they've been fielding a great deal of complaints and they're trying to fend them off by pushing forward the time period for spousal selection. I've also required them to add criteria for acceptable divorce — abuse and adultery being among them. And an exception is to be made for those who are engaged prior to the start of the law on July 1st —"
"So if you're engaged to be married before July then you wouldn't have to —" Harry began hopefully.
"You wouldn't be paired with someone of the Ministry's choosing," Kingsley said. "All other stipulations would apply. You'd still need to be married within the Ministry timeframe and produce a child within the set time frame as well."
"Some exception," Fred snorted.
"This is insanity!" George said angrily. "How is this legal? Haven't we sacrificed enough? I shouldn't be forced to marry someone I hardly know and produce a child I'm not ready for! You're telling us there's nothing that can be done here —!"
"I have tried, George," Kingsley said in frustration. "I have tried reasoning, I have tried fear-mongering, I have tried to work around any loophole within my power to override the decision. These are elected officials. They are elected by the people, to work for the people. These are people that the magical community have selected with the intent of speaking on their behalf. And the laws are…outdated, but sound. They are supported by other pureblood legislation that would have to be repealed in order to overturn this decree. It takes time to do, and I'm working on that, but I'm afraid that by the time we are able to manage it…the deadline for your marriages will have passed by then."
The silence in the room was tangible. It was the sort of silence that occurred after a tragedy had hit. The silence she remembered when she'd walked into the Great Hall during Voldemort's temporary ceasefire, and had looked out at all of the dead before her.
"There's really nothing…" she whispered brokenly, looking at Kingsley imploringly. He smiled at her sadly.
"Not immediately, no," he said gently. "At the time I manage to repeal the law, you will be the first to know, I assure you. At that point, any requirements for children or remaining married would be overturned. You could divorce your partner for any reason if you so choose. But I'm afraid…until we manage to overturn those laws, there is nothing else that can be done."
It was a devastating blow. She had no idea what she was supposed to do now…
Ron cleared his throat from her other side.
"So, should we not be engaged by the first," he said slowly. "You said there are compatibility tests."
Kingsley nodded.
"Aptitude and personality tests," he said. "Some basic, shallow questions, some questions that will require detailed answers, some what-if questions. They'll be averaged and compared to each candidate within your age group using a magical formula we've designed to help find your most compatible match. At which point, an owl will be sent to inform you of your selection. I implore you to take these tests as seriously as you can. Answer them as honestly and in as much detail as possible."
It didn't make her feel any better, and it didn't appear to make anyone else feel better either. They all looked like they'd been handed down death sentences, and the idea of waiting weeks before a selection was made…
It was anxiety-inducing.
Kingsley sighed heavily, coming to a stand and eyeing them all sadly.
"I am working around the clock to repeal this," he said. "If anything changes, I will let you know, but I have to get back to the Ministry. We've got some final revisions to make and I will need to hold a press conference." He hugged Mrs. Weasley one last time, shook the hands of Harry and Arthur and Percy again, but no one spoke. "The owls will arrive with the tests and guidelines for the law tomorrow. I wish you all the very best."
And then he was gone, leaving the room in a heavy, disbelieving silence.
No one had stayed long after Kingsley had left, and Hermione didn't blame them.
Fred and George had been the first to leave, with excuses to open the shop in the morning, though Hermione had heard them muttering about a large glass of Firewhiskey. She'd been tempted to go with them, though she wasn't much of a drinker. She might have been able to use a night of drunken disregard, despite her racing head.
Percy had left soon after, needing to get rest before he returned to work the next morning. Bill and Fleur had needed to put Victoire down for the evening, promising to write Charlie with the news they'd learned from Kingsley. Harry and Ginny had walked outside looking scared and nervous.
Hermione had no idea what to do with herself. She'd merely lifted the large stack of documents that Kingsley had given her and carried them up to her room.
She'd thought she'd get started on looking them over now, get a head start if she only had a few weeks before her partner was to be selected, but she couldn't battle past the numbness. So she'd merely sat on her bed, cross-legged and stared at the stack as if she were hoping she might blink and it would disappear.
It all seemed so unfair at the moment. She'd have to marry despite not being ready, though there was at least some hope that Kingsley would be able to overturn the legislation by the time she would be required to produce a child.
Produce.
It was all so clinical. So…inhumane. It was a complete lack of regard for the wants and needs of the magical community. Made more unfair by the fact that the majority of the members of the Wizengamot were all old, married men, who had absolutely (at least she assumed) no stake in the legislation. They had nothing to lose personally, and the fact that they were so removed from the reality of the situation seemed cruel and unfair. There should have been an age limit for sitting members — they were so far removed from what she believed in at this point, having grown up in an entirely different world, that it didn't exactly feel like they had the knowledge or values that aligned with her own anymore.
Also unfair that she had not voted for them to sit in those seats and make these decisions. She'd been on the run, destroying Horcruxes, and helping Harry bring an end to a man who had threatened the very fabric of the lives those men had become comfortable with. And where had they been? If they hadn't been serving Voldemort, they'd likely been in hiding, cowering in fear.
And yet, here they were, taking away her choice and her rights as if they had not a care in the world for what she'd sacrificed and lost. So far as they were concerned, she was a means to an end. Barely even a human being, but an object to be used to further their magical bloodlines.
It was disgusting, and the best she could do was sit here and think about what her best case scenario would be.
She'd only come up with one answer. One way to prevent herself from being paired with…anyone. One way to eliminate all of the risk that came with the legislation, though she'd still be forced to marry and sire offspring within a certain timeframe.
There was only one way for her to have any choice at all in the matter, no matter how many times she thought the entire thing through.
She barely even jumped when there was a knock on the open door to her room. She didn't even have it in her to be startled anymore, the absurdity and cruelty of what was happening had simply overridden any of her instincts. Maybe she was just numb to all of it at the moment. It was always one thing after the other in her life, and she'd let her guard down in the last year.
Her own fault.
Despite her morose thoughts, she tried to force a smile on her face at Ron standing awkwardly in the doorway.
"Do you mind if I come in?" he said.
"Sure," she said, moving her stack of papers aside and giving him space to sit on the bed in their place. "Where's Harry?"
"Off with Ginny somewhere," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Probably doing things I don't want to know about. Are you — er — are you doing okay?"
She gave him an incredulous look, and laughed hollowly.
"Okay?" she said, trying and failing to hold back the tears that had been threatening from the moment she'd read that headline the evening before. "I'm being forced to marry and have children against my will, Ron. Of course, I'm not okay. After everything we've done, this is what they repay us with. It's barbaric, and it's unfair, and it's – it's —"
She didn't get to say what it was because she erupted in sobs instead, all of it becoming too much to take. Ron sighed heavily, wrapping her in a hug and pulling her into his side. She went willingly, curling into him and wrapping her arm around his middle.
"I know, Mione," he said sadly. "We're going to be alright."
She knew he didn't know that they would be, but it soothed something in her. They would be alright. She'd known Ron for eight years now, and had loved him for more than half of those. She could trust him if they married. And they didn't really have any other options, did they? Not unless they wanted to risk being separated and paired with someone else.
And, of course, that wasn't an option they had. She could be paired with — with Draco Malfoy, for all they knew, and she had very little faith in whatever compatibility tests the Ministry had developed to determine her perfect match.
Ron respected her. Ron knew her much better than anyone else would, except for Harry. They were attracted to each other. They were already dating. They were probably going to end up getting married eventually, right? They were just speeding up the process a little.
The rest they could work out later, she supposed.
"I'm sorry," she said, pulling away and wiping under her eyes. "I don't mean to suggest that I don't want to marry you. I mean, we probably would have eventually, right? It just wasn't how I saw everything turning out…"
Ron laughed under his breath.
"Yeah, me either," he said. "Feels like a nightmare, but I mean there's no way that they wouldn't pair us together, right?"
She blinked at him, confused by the wording he'd used. Pair them together? They wouldn't need to be paired if he proposed before the deadline of the law. Why would they need to be paired together?
"Well, Kingsley said if we were engaged before the deadline then we wouldn't have to be paired, didn't he?" she said, ignoring whatever feeling she had in her gut. There was no way he was actually suggesting that they not get engaged. It was the solution she'd thought of in the last hour since Kingsley had left. Surely he'd thought of it as well. "We still have a few weeks. I mean, I'll have to go over whatever guidelines they send tomorrow with the tests to be sure — the documents he gave me will simply take too long to translate from all the legal jargon beforehand — but if we got engaged in the next few weeks then —"
"But we aren't engaged," Ron said, his brow furrowing.
The words irritated her. They made her want to rip out her hair, but it had always been like this with them, hadn't it? She'd always had to explain things to him and Harry as if they were students and she was their disapproving professor. She should have known this time would be no different.
Even still, despite their relationship, the majority of the intellectual stimulation she got had been done via school work or random conversations about Ministry regulations with Percy. She didn't go to Ron for those sorts of things.
But it wouldn't do to lose her patience with him. It was likely as overwhelming for him as it was for her, and they handled stress a bit differently. Hermione handled it by coming up with a plan, and Ron handled it by avoiding it entirely. So long as they understood what had to happen next, it didn't really matter in the end.
"I know we aren't," she said, trying to keep her voice from sounding as if she were being a know-it-all. He hated that tone, and she was careful not to use it too much, even if what she was saying seemed obvious to her. "But we have two weeks to get engaged, right? We'd have to get a ring, I'm sure, because I doubt that they wouldn't vet legitimate relationships and people who are just getting engaged to avoid the law entirely. But given the circumstances, I figure we can just pick a ring together and split the cost. That's the most practical thing to do, considering they didn't give us much notice. We can always do something more romantic or permanent once we're actually ready for the whole thing, couldn't we? And hopefully they plan on giving us some time to plan the wedding. They aren't exactly cheap —"
Ron stood from the bed, eyeing her with wide eyes, and waved his arms back and forth hastily.
"Wait, wait, wait," he said. "Hermione, I'm not — I mean, I wasn't planning on proposing —"
"Well, neither was I, Ron," she laughed. "They've sort of forced our hand though, haven't they?"
Ron gaped at her like a fish for a long moment before he closed his mouth and cleared his throat, looking awkward.
"No, that's not what I mean," he said, sounding awkward and eyeing the door as if he wanted nothing more than to escape the conversation entirely. "Look, I love you, and we've been friends for a long time, but I — I mean, I don't see why we should get engaged just because of the stupid law. They have compatibility tests, Kingsley said. Why not let them pair us together —"
"You can't be serious," she said, something sharp stabbing her in the chest. She raised a hand absentmindedly to rub at the pain, even though there was nothing there. "What if they don't pair us together? They could pair me with — with Malfoy or Pucey or McLaggen! If we're already dating, and we already love each other then what difference does being engaged beforehand matter?"
"They aren't going to pair you with Malfoy," he scoffed. "Of course, it would be me. Who else would it be?"
She didn't even really understand what she was hearing. To her, her argument, her decision, made so much more sense. It was safe, and it was practical, and it didn't change the overall trajectory of her life plan too much. What he was suggesting made no sense to her, not if he felt the same way about her that she did about him. There was a lot of risk to filling out those tests and praying for the best.
She wasn't a person who operated best on faith, personally, and it made no sense to do what he was suggesting.
"Ron, if you really believe that, then what difference does it make if we choose each other or the Ministry chooses for us?" she said irritably. "You have no guarantee that they'd pair us together. For all we know, the tests aren't even reliable!"
Ron rolled his eyes in that dismissive way that she hated, and it made her bristle, forcing herself to stand so that she wasn't at such a disadvantage. He was still taller than her, but it closed the gap a little, and that helped her spine straighten.
"Hermione, you're asking me to propose just because the Ministry is saying we have to —"
"Ron, the alternative is that we might not end up together at all! We've been dating for over a year! If you really believe that we'll end up getting married anyway, I don't understand what the point is in taking the risk!"
"I'm not proposing, Hermione!" he shouted, his ears turning red. "There's no point in rushing this! They'll pair us together and it won't even matter —"
She almost couldn't believe that this was her real life, and she felt like she was just repeating herself over and over again.
"Don't be ridiculous, Ronald!" she shouted back, refusing to back down even when they were practically screaming in each other's faces. The rest of the house had to be able to hear them, but she didn't even care. This was the most ridiculous argument the two of them had ever had, and they'd had a fair few. "If you want to marry me then I don't understand —"
"I DON'T WANT TO MARRY YOU, HERMIONE!"
The words hit her like a ton of bricks. They buried her in a shock so complete that it was like she'd been buried under wet cement. Her breath halted in her chest, and she stumbled backward as if he'd slapped her, her heart feeling like it had simply been ripped in half.
"I — what?" she said weakly, the fight bleeding out of her immediately and leaving her with a horrible, throbbing ache in the center of her chest.
Ron seemed to pale rapidly, as if he hadn't noticed what he'd said until after the words had come out. It was always like that with him. He never thought anything through before he said it. He let his anger speak before he even had the opportunity to consider what she'd said. Her mother had always told her that when people screamed at each other, no one was really listening. It was a mere battle of wills at that point, and nothing would be accomplished until they'd calmed. Her parents' marriage had always been so sound that she had no reason to doubt this advice, but, even still, she and Ron ended up in the same place.
He started shouting, she shouted back, until he ended up saying something that felt like she'd been stabbed in the chest or she had the presence of mind to storm away. Storming away was not an option now, however. She couldn't run from something this important, not when the alternative was being auctioned off to another man instead.
But she almost didn't want to hear what he had to say next.
"No, Hermione, that's not what I meant," he said, trying to appear gentle, but it mostly looked condescending. "Of course, I want to marry you. I just mean that — well, I don't want to marry you now. If they pair us together — and I'm positive they will — then we can just…continue on as we have been —"
"I don't understand," she said, bewildered. The words he was saying did not make much sense to her. It was like he was just repeating things to avoid saying what he actually wanted to say to her. "What aren't you saying right now?"
Ron threw his hands into the air in frustration.
"Look at us, Hermione!" he said in exasperation. "Fighting — again! This is all we do anymore! You want me to give you space! You want me to plan more dates! You want me to propose! You don't ask me what I want —"
"Because I thought we wanted the same things, Ronald!" she shouted back. It was their pattern, as it had always been. "We just need to work on a better way to communicate! That's still going to be true if the Ministry pairs us together!"
"It's always the same thing with you, Hermione!" he said, shaking his head angrily. "You're always talking to me like you know everything, and I'm just some moron you're forced to spend time with!"
"That is not true!"
"I don't want to propose when I can't even get a word in edgewise!" he said, as if she hadn't spoken at all. "I don't want to propose when I know that you're going to fight me about the kids, about a home, about staying home with them —"
"Staying home with them?" she said, laughing humorlessly. "Is that what you're expecting from me, Ronald? You expect me to just stay at home, while you're off at your nine to five, fulfilling all of your dreams? You expect me to raise the kids and have dinner on the table when you get home? Is that really what you're telling me right now? Because that's not at all what I want. I have more to offer than that!"
"What's that supposed to mean?" he said angrily. "My mum did it!"
"I am not your mother!" Hermione said, tugging at her hair in frustration. "That's never been what I wanted with my life, Ron! I went back to Hogwarts for my N.E.W.T.s, for Merlin's sake! You really think I did that — when I wasn't required to — because I had the intention of being a homemaker?"
"What's wrong with being a homemaker?"
"There's nothing wrong with it!" she yelled, throwing her hands in the air. And there wasn't. Truthfully, Hermione had always thought that being a homemaker was one of the hardest jobs in the world — raising children was no easy feat, and it required great deal of strength and patience. But it wasn't something that she would find fulfilling. "If that's what you want to do! But that's not what I want at all! I've always wanted to work — both of my parents worked!"
Ron shook his head with a condescending scoff, and her fingers itched to grab her wand. She wanted to hex him. She wanted to send those birds flying at his face again. She wanted to punch him in his stupid, arrogant, condescending face.
"This is ridiculous, Hermione," he said, storming off toward the door. "I don't have to listen to this, alright? I've got training tomorrow and this isn't worth it. We'll be paired together and we can figure out the rest then, you'll see —"
"I am not staying home to raise children, Ronald! That's not up for debate!"
He laughed as if she'd said something funny, and her fists curled.
"I'll see you in a few days when you've cooled off," he said, walking away. "I can't talk to you when you're like this. You can owl me when you grow up."
Grow up?
When she grew up?
He'd already been gone, and the silence in the Burrow told her that everyone had most definitely heard their argument, but she didn't care. She picked up the vase on her nightstand, and chucked it at the spot where he'd last been standing, and watched it shatter into a million pieces.
Watching as the shrapnel went flying in all directions, she couldn't help but think that that's exactly how her life was going at the moment.