A/N: Okay... so this is my first fanfic. Ever. But I had fun. Hope ya'll do too...
Oh and don't worry, this will turn into Dramione. I promise.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry & Pals... sigh
Chapter 1: The Lousy Letter
FWACK! An owl hit the window near where Hermione was sitting. She sighed. Bloody owls…
She had just "graduated" from Hogwarts last month via mail with her two best friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. The trio hadn't been able to finish their education as they were too busy fighting Voldemort. Eventually, they had defeated him, but not without tremendous loss. The Lupins, Fred Weasley and countless others were gone. It was a different world post–Voldemort.
Hermione slowly shook her head and walked towards the window. (Moving her body as sleekly as her newly treated hair looked. She had grown a lot since Hogwarts.) It would do her no good to reminisce – that path led to tears.
At the window was a rather plain owl she didn't recognize. Until she saw the Ministry's seal that is. This can't be good. Hermione grabbed the letter and paid the owl. She decided to just read it and get it over with.
Dear Miss Hermione Granger –
We are writing to inform you of a new law regarding 18 – 40 year olds. It has come to our attention that the Wizarding population has been steadily decreasing since the appearance of You-Know-Who. As you may or may not know, this rate has gotten to the point where we – and you should be too – are very alarmed. As a result, the greatest minds in the country have been working together to bring about a solution. Hence Law 384567231.23.17 has been brought into being. This law deals with this issue and is informally titled the Youth Marriage Eternal law, or Y.M.E.
In the program, you will be matched with someone with whom you will work well. You will have to take several tests and personality surveys to ensure the perfect match. You will have to marry your match within six months of receiving the results. Be aware that this is a Wizarding marriage and as such divorce is impossible. You will also be required to be pregnant with the child of your husband within two years of the marriage vows. We wish you all the best as you start this journey.
Please visit the Ministry at 3:30 pm next Wednesday for your appointment to complete your compatibility forms.
Reminder: This law leaves you with two choices. One, you comply and marry your chosen partner and replenish the Wizarding community together. Two, you refuse and your wand is snapped and your memory wiped as you join the Muggle world. Please choose wisely.
We look forward to meeting you on Wednesday.
Sincerely,
Kingsley Shacklebolt
Minister of Magic,
Ministry of Magic
For several moments Hermione couldn't move. "Crap," she whispered.
Hermione barely heard the first set of knocks on her door. By the fourth set her ears were ringing.
"Mione open up!" came Ron's voice, slightly obscured by the door. "Please!?!" Hermione snapped to and opened her door to a red faced, red haired man.
"Hey Ron," Hermione said.
"Mione, did you hear?" Hermione wordlessly lifted her letter into the air in acknowledgement. "This is awful!"
"I know. How is this even legal?" Hermione questioned.
"I asked Dad and he said that 'desperate times call for desperate measures' or something like that."
"I guess the population decrease must be worse than we thought. Care to sit?" Ron nodded so Hermione led him over to her flat's secondhand couch – not that you could tell; it looked brand new.
"What are we going to do?" Ron moaned.
"Hey, don't worry," Hermione answered softly. "It is all going to be fine. We'll only be matched with others we can work with. That's what it says anyway." Hermione squinted at her letter.
"I hate this."
"Me too. I don't like not being able to decide where my own bloody life will go!"
Ron wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his side. "Let's forget about this for awhile."
"Alright." Hermione was only too happy to oblige. "Where's Harry?"
"Comforting Ginny."
"Oh." Silence filled the room. "Want me to order Chinese?"
"You bet your life I would!" Hermione smiled at him. "You okay with me going to find some firewhisky?"
"Get as much as you can carry." Ron's mouth swung open. "Ron! We're going to need it."
"Can't argue with that logic!" Ron smiled and vanished. Hermione picked up a phone to call Moon Cookies, a Muggle Chinese place several blocks away. She ordered one of everything. She knew as well as anyone how much Ron liked to eat. She even took the liberty of picking out a few movies for them to watch. Nothing like mindless gore to take your mind off a law forcing you to be a mother before the age of twenty! Hermione sighed.
Just as Hermione started to worry, Ron appeared again. He popped two shrunken bags out of his pockets and restored them to their normal sizes. Hermione gasped. There was enough alcohol to knock out a Hungarian Horntail!
"Just making sure we have a proper selection tonight," Ron said after seeing her face. He couldn't help but grin at her.
Hermione opened her mouth to speak only to hear her doorbell ring.
"I'll get it," Ron said. Soon he was back. Walking down the hallway loaded with the massive order Hermione had placed. "You could help you know," Ron grunted.
Hermione giggled before walking over to a frustrated Ron. "You're lucky I'm the nicest person you know." She relieved him of a little under half of his load. They set up shop in Hermione's living room, cracking open a bottle of firewhisky.
Before they knew it, the movies stopped making sense and empty bottles and Chinese food containers littered the room.
"We maade a mess," Hermione said, slurring straight through her giggles.
"Yeah," said Ron while scooting closer. Hermione tried to stand up but fell back down – straight into Ron's lap. She giggled again. "Stop laughinng so laoud."
"Why?" Hermione giggled louder.
"Because then I'd have to do this." Ron kissed her deeply. She found herself responding up until the moment her mind got caught up in a drunken haze. The rest of the evening faded into an unmemorable blur.