Hermione Granger. The single girl, with no purpose, stared at herself in the mirror, wondering what had happened to her in the past five years. Life wasn't in her favor at the moment. Then again, it hadn't been in her favor for the last few years.

It seemed that after the War and Graduation, things were finally starting to look up a little bit. Things were going great with Ron, and she had started work in the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures – it was her dream job. To help make things better for House Elves, Centaurs, and all of the other magical creatures that she'd come across throughout her life so far. The ones that she felt weren't being treated as equals or fairly.

But you know what they say about things that seem perfect.

"Scratch the surface, and it's all fake," Hermione muttered, hearing her mother's wise words play through her head. She scoffed at herself in the mirror when she realized how true they were.

Her reports on payments and equal rights for house elves had been tossed in the trash as soon as her manager had read the title, and her proposal to give the centaurs their land back in the Forbidden Forest had been laughed at - maybe not out loud in front of her, but she was sure all of the senior members in her department had a right good laugh about it at her expense afterwards.

Then, about two years after she graduated, things took a turn for the worst. It had been late one night, and she and Ron had been curled up together on the couch in Ron's London flat. They were just lying there, talking about the future when suddenly, out of nowhere, they had gotten into the biggest row. Hermione shook her head at it even now. She had no idea where it had come from.

She'd always known that he wanted to get married someday, and she admitted she was excited about it! But never had she expected that it would be so soon after graduating, or that he would have wanted her to give up her job.

"To look after the kids," he'd told her.

Oh how that made her blood boil. He wanted her to become his mother. And as much as she adored Mrs. Weasley, that was never going to happen. Hermione had dreams, she had ambitions, she had a good head on her shoulders. She always had. And those qualities were not going to go to waste by being stuck in a house 24/7. No, that was not something that she was going to do, and he was not going to be her husband if he made her. So, after that row, she walked away from that relationship for good. She didn't leave her apartment other than for work, and to say she was completely miserable was an understatement. And she still was, two years later.

After brushing her teeth meticulously and throwing her toothbrush back into her medicine cabinet above the sink, she closed it and took one last look at herself. She looked a mess – but she didn't particularly care. It was a Sunday. Where was she going to go?

Deciding not to bother with fixing her hair or putting on any makeup, she trudged out of the bathroom and into the hallway. The wooden floor was cold beneath her feet, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she passed by the windows. She hadn't realized up until now that it was raining, but after seeing how heavy it was, how had she not realized it before?

The sky was a dark stormy shade of grey, with shades of green and black mixed through the clouds. The rain was falling so hard, that it sounded like bricks being thrown against the windowpanes. Although the waterfalls falling from the gutters along the roof were making it near impossible to see anything further than a few feet, she did see the lightning that sparked in the sky and heard the thunder rumble round about her.

'A dreary day to match the mood. Perfect,' she thought to herself.

She was so wrapped up in her own pity party, that she didn't notice her owl sitting on the other side of the window. It was hard to hear him pecking the glass over the sound of the rain, but when she saw him she threw down her box of Corn Flakes and hurried to let him in. Poor Apollo was drenched to the bone, his feathers soggy and dripping water. He ruffled his feathers and nicked at her hand, annoyed that she hadn't let him in sooner.

"I know, I'm sorry," she apologized, petting his head cautiously.

He gave her one more disgusted look before dropping the item he had clasped in his beak and flying over to the fireplace to dry off. Hermione gaped at the envelope he'd dropped onto the countertop, a million thoughts running through her mind. It was from the Ministry of Magic.

'It must be terribly important for them to send it on a Sunday,' she thought to herself, biting her lip nervously as she turned the envelope over in her hands. Had she done something wrong? Was she fired? Had there been a protest? After a few minutes of staring at it, she reasoned that she was more likely to get fired.

"Oh God," she muttered to herself as she broke the Ministry seal and pulled the letter out. "I really need this job, I really need this pathetic job that makes me totally miserable. Don't fire me."

But what she read was not what she expected.

Ms. Hermione Granger,

Due to the fact that the Wizarding population has been drastically depleated, the Ministry of Magic has decided that the best course of action is to enforce a new law. Therefore, the Wizengamot has passed Ministerial Decree 2323, which states that any single witch between the age of twenty and thirty is required to marry. The Ministry has already chosen you a suitor – based on shared interests, similar hobbies and other compatibility data.

You will be given three months to wed, which someone from the Ministry will have to verify that it has indeed happened. As a further requirement of Ministerial Decree #2323, you and your partner will be required to have intercourse at least once a week, for the first year of your marriage, in which time you will be expected to conceive a child. Similarities that you and your partner possess include the following:

- Your intelligence levels are very similar.
- You had the same grades in school.
- You both took many of the same classes, as such your hobbies are very similar.

For these reasons, we have chosen to have you paired with:

Bartemius Crouch Junior

Failing to meet the requirements laid down by Ministerial Decree 2323 will result in your wand being stripped from you and snapped, as well as your immediate exile from the Wizarding World.

Hoping you are well.

Sincerely,
Martha MacDonald
Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic

Hermione blinked at the words starting up at her, and re-read it several times before anything started to sink in. She had to get married? Married to someone who she did not love…maybe even someone she didn't know. It was horrid…what was this, the seventeenth century? No, this was now the twenty-first century, goddammit.

"Damn you, Shacklebolt," she growled under her breath. "Why would you do this? Why would you let this pass?"

Well one thing was for sure, if she'd felt awful before – she felt downright miserable now. But rather than sit at home festering and speculating, she stomped over to the fireplace where Apollo was perched on the mantle peice, and grabbed a handful of Floocall Powder.

She'd be damned if she wasn't going to get some answers.

"Shacklebolt's office!" she cried, and gazed intently at the crackling blue and green flames.

Within seconds, the Ministers smiling face appeared in the hearth.

"Hermione, how are you?" he asked in his deep, calming voice. It only caused her to glare at him more.

"How could you allow this to pass?" she shrieked.

"Ah, I see you've received our letter informing you of the new Law," he frowned.

"Law? LAW? Minister this is a bloody death sentence! How could you let them steamroll you into passing something like this?" she cried incredulously.

Kingsley sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He looked about as happy as she did about this whole business.

"Hermione, the Purebloods in this world are continuing to interbreed, despite the fact that they are no longer discriminating against Muggleborns. Their actions are causing more squibs to be born and as such our population is decreasing. It was already low in the immediate days following the War, but in recent years it's fallen by thirty-six percent, That is a colossal impact on our way of life, and that is why we had to pass this. And don't think that you can escape this by moving countries – everyone has to do this. I had a meeting with the Minister for Magic in Asia this morning and am scheduled for one with the Minister in the United States, North and South America and also Africa. The other Ministers of the world have until the end of the week to comply also," he finished with another sigh before continuing – sounding much more stern than she'd ever heard him before. "Now I'm sorry we had to do this, I truly am. I understand that forcing you to marry someone you're not in love with is far from easy, but we're hoping that you might be able to fall in love with him someday."

She gaped at him, shocked that he was condoning this!

"B-But why not Ron? Or Har – oh nevermind he's married - but what about Draco? He's not a complete arse anymore! And he's smart!"

For the first time since the start of the conversation, the corners of Kingsley's mouth twitched upwards in an amused smile. "You and Ron argue about everything Hermione. You tried a relationship, and it didn't work out at all. We can't risk the prospect of a divorce with in the first month. Also, you know Draco is in a relationship with your friend Ginerva."

"Yeah, I know…wait, how do you know that?"

His eyes sparkled knowingly. "I am the Minister of Magic. It is my job to know."

Hermione sighed. "Well – I can't say I'm thrilled about it, but I suppose if I'm being FORCED into marriage I might as well at least TRY to make it work, even if it is with a total and complete stranger," she frowned.

"Hermione, I know you still see him as a criminal and a Death Eater, but he is innocent. I checked his memories and cleared him myself."

"Can I get his address? So I can visit him, and…well, see for myself if he really has changed? And to make sure he has read his post."

The Minister seemed to ponder this for a minute before nodding and reading out his address to her.

She scribbled it down on a nearby notebook she had lying on the coffee table, and with that they said their goodbyes. As soon as his face disappeared from the fire, she got up and went to change into something that wasn't her pajamas. It looked like she would be leaving after all. She chose a pair of blue jeans and a black button down, before going to her bathroom and looking in the mirror at her reflection again.

She hardly recognized the sorrow in her big brown eyes as her own. Life really wasn't in her favor at the moment. And now with this law coming out, it seemed like life was finally crashing around her.