Like she was a goddess on her untouchable pedestal, Ginny Weasley looked down at her fellow Gryffindors from the center of their common room.

"Shacklebolt has done us wrong," her voice rung out, spurring both silence and loud roars of agreement. "We cannot stand by this! We must not allow this! The Ministry has no right to our lives! We fought a war for freedom, and damn it, we will have our freedom!"

Colorful sparks flew out of a few wands as all her supporters cheered.

"Hear! Hear!" Seamus stood up on Dean's armchair, making himself seen to his fellow house-mates, too. "I've had my eye on a Ravenclaw witch for the past year—the real future Mrs. Finnegan! I'm not gonna let the Ministry take that away from me, and neither should you!"

Dean punched the back of his best friend's calf, making him stumble off the armrest of his seat. "She doesn't even know your name, mate. You run the opposite way every time she comes your way."

"I do not!" There was a chorus of snorts throughout the gather of Gryffindors. Most of them had seen Seamus turn pink from head to toes, scurrying off every time anyone with a skirt so much as approached him. "Shut it! I have the perfect romancing plan this year. Ten Steps to Getting the Witch of Your Dreams. Bought it from Fred and George Sixth Year—"

Silence suddenly invaded the common room. Slowly, all eyes once more turned to Ginny. The red on her cheeks from her impassioned rally was now paling, something in her gaze fighting off grief to maintain her strength in front of her audience.

"That's enough from all of you," Hermione spoke up, pushing her way past her fellow Gryffindors. "None of us like the idea of what the Ministry is doing, but it is law. And seeing as we yet have every detail about how all of this will work, let us remember that we are bound to uphold these laws or face the consequences of breaking them. There's nothing we can do right now."

"Potter for Minister!" Seamus jumped up on another chair, throwing a fist high in the air. "Potter! Potter! Potter!"

There was an immediate chorus coming from everyone around Hermione. She glared at them just as Harry groaned, looking away from the corrections Hermione had done on his Charms homework. "I'm not running for Minister, Seamus," he said, earning a loud booing from some house-mates.

"But, Potter, think about—"

"No," Harry told his friend, now disregarding his essay to stand. The crowd parted to let him approach Ginny. He extended a hand up to her, the action making her raise a sharp, red brow at him. "Come on, Gin. Hermione's right. Rallying isn't going to help us right now."

"It isn't a rally, mate," Dean said from his seat. "She's starting a revolution."

Harry ignored him, his hand still out. "We'll be fine. I promise."

"Don't promise that," Ginny told him. "You can't. Not when there's a chance you'll go off to someone like Romilda Vane and I go back to Dean."

At her very apparent disdain, Dean glared at his ex-girlfriend. "Oi," he hissed, "I've told you, I never pushed you. It's not my fault you're actually very clumsy."

Harry and Hermione shared a look that made one grin and the other roll her eyes. With a clearing of his throat, he did not wait for Ginny to take his hands. He reached for hers, lacing their fingers together, squeezing tight.

"Listen," he began, "I'm not scared about this marriage law, okay? Because I know that I love you more than anything. And we did not survive this war for us to not be together. Because we will be. I know it. Can't you believe that, too?"

Ginny inhaled, demanding her tears to stay exactly where they were. "Of course I believe that."

A loud aw echoed around the common room, along with giggles and obscene kissing noises.

"Shut it," Ginny hissed at them, but she still let Harry lift her off the table and into his arms.

Hermione smiled not at the romantic, adorable moment between her friends (because they had a lot of those now), but at the fact that Harry had managed to stop Ginny from building herself an army (Dean was right—Ginny would start a full-blown revolution).

"You seem awfully compliant about this whole thing, Hermione," Ron said to her when she retook her seat next to him. He briefly looked up at her from an old Quidditch magazine he was absentmindedly flipping through. "Hoping the sorting hat will pair you off with Cormac Mclaggen?"

She narrowed brown eyes at the snort that followed his comment. "Wanting to pacify your sister and everyone else that thinks they can go to war with Kingsley does not make me compliant, Ronald. This is clearly a matter completely out of his control. The Wizengamot passes laws. Kingsley is only responsible for presenting them to the community. If we want to put a stop to these marriages before they even happen, we have to start by persuading members of the council to change their minds."

"You can't make those twats change their minds about anything," Ron said through clenched teeth, now disregarding his magazine completely. "Or don't you remember? They refused to give the scum who killed my brother the Dementor's Kiss."

Hermione's hand stilled on her quill, the dot of ink growing and bleeding through her last sentence and the parchment. She did not know what to say to him whenever he brought this up. It was bad enough that he splinched himself again when he disapparated in a blur of devastating fury when they heard the Wizengamot's verdict, letting himself almost bleed out before he even let her and Harry help him to St. Mungo's to save his life. The rest was always just a screaming fest, his magic flaring, turning anything fragile into dust.

Alike their once-blooming romance.

"But you don't care about that, do you?" he added, standing from the couch they were sharing. "You even advocated for the entire Malfoy family from spending the rest of their miserable lives in Azkaban after what they had done."

"Ronald," Hermione managed to say through a knot in her throat, uncertainty and frustration shadowing her tone, "Narcissa Malfoy saved Harry's life. Draco Malfoy didn't turn us in to Bellatrix Lestrange, he was forced to do terrible things, and he gave Harry his wand that helped in defeating Voldemort. I'm not saying they are good people, but that not everyone needs to die to—"

"Fred didn't need to die, either," Ron hissed at her, "but he's still gone, isn't he?"

"And that's my fault?"

Ron leaned back, almost confused himself on how their conversation ended up here, with tears in both their eyes, anger reflecting off each other.

"I didn't say—"

"Just go," Hermione breathed, looking back down at her homework. With trembling fingers, she smudged the ink further into her parchment, making a bigger mess of her essay. She waited until she saw his feet stomp away before she paused, focusing on a nonverbal that would undo the blotchy ink from her work.

Once it was clean, she looked up, sniffling.

She knew Ron was having trouble accepting Fred's death and all the consequences of having fought in a war, but so was everyone else. He had not fought that war on his own. He had not grieved on his own. She had been there beside him every step of the way. She did not deserve his anger, no matter how much he was hurting. After all, what she deserved was respect. And if he was not going to give it to her, then she was going to give it to herself.

Even if that meant putting distance between them.

"Are you all right?" Lavender dropped herself beside Hermione, twisting her body around as she crossed her legs over one another. "I sort of heard most of your conversation with Ron—mostly because I was eavesdropping," she gave her a small laugh, reaching over to squeeze Hermione's knee. "He's always been an arse, hasn't he?"

Hermione wanted to disagree, but he had indeed always been difficult.

"Give it some time," Lavender then said with another squeeze. "He'll come around once he starts noticing that everyone is moving on with their lives. Don't lose faith in him or what you two have."

It was Hermione's turn to let out a laugh (that sounded closely to a choked sob). "We don't have anything—not anymore, anyway. He made sure to tell me that this summer."

"I'm sorry, Hermione."

"Are you?"

Lavender shrugged, leaning back against the couch now. "War gives people perspective, doesn't it? The last thing on my mind was Ron breaking up with me because he had finally accepted he had feelings for you. When Greyback had me pinned down, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to live."

Hermione watched Lavender run a hand down the left side of her face, her fingers rubbing at the thick, jagged line that disappeared and continued under her school uniform. It reminded her of the ink she had previously blotted on her homework and how she had hoped her own fingers would make it disappear before having magic make everything even again.

Yet, magic could not make the blotches on Lavender's skin to disappear.

"Imagine that," Hermione mumbled, "surviving a war only to have our Ministry marry us off to keep the population from declining."

Lavender laughed, loud and happy. It startled Hermione. "I, for one, think it's brilliant. I've been trying to get Seamus to stop slobbering over that Ravenclaw since last year. The Ministry's just going to do it for me now."

Despite herself, Hermione laughed just as loud as her fellow Gryffindor. "That's absolutely awful."

"He never had a chance with her, anyway," Lavender grinned one last time before it faded away. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"How are you going to survive this marriage law?"

Hermione's laughter died instantly. She had not really thought about what it meant for her. She had been too preoccupied with keeping Ginny and the others from organizing a fight—she had not once thought about who the sorting hat would be giving her as a partner.

Now she really was terrified—what if she did end up with Cormac McLaggen? Or worse, someone as daft and dull as Goyle?

XX

As they dragged their feet through the doors of the Great Hall, Sixth and Seventh Years mumbled curses and sent glares at the two authoritative figures standing at the front of the room. They offered warm greetings like the students were not marching with clouds of doom and thunder over their heads.

"Piss off," Ron muttered under his breath when Kingsley nodded in his direction. He grumbled further when Hermione took him by the elbow, quickly motioning him to the nearest bench for them to sit.

All of the benches faced the front of Great Hall where the sorting hat waited on top of a stool all of them had once sat upon years ago.

"I see you're alive," Ginny said to Kingsley with a huff, crossing her arms just as Harry scratched his head, looking away from the friend who was caught in the awkward position of being the Minister of Magic who was responsible in upholding a horrible marriage law that could ultimately (legally) separate him from his girlfriend. "Even though I specifically owled George with instructions to poison you while you were over for dinner last night."

"Ginny," Kingsley sighed, deep and frustrated, "threatening the Minister's life is an act of treason. You are aware of this, correct?"

"Kingsley," repeated Ginny in his same tone, "threatening to meddle with my life and relationship is an act of treason. You are aware of this, correct?"

Hermione stretched over Ron, reaching to grab any part of Ginny's school robes to pull her down to her seat. "She's only joking, Minister," she said with an apologetic smile just as Ginny smacked her hand away, but still sat rigidly beside Harry.

"She capitalized murder and underlined it ten times, Miss Granger," Kingsley said. "George showed me the letter."

Ginny snorted, turning away from the Minister just as McGonagall cleared her throat, commanding attention in order to begin the unavoidable.

"Before we begin with the sorting, there are a few things the Minister of Magic would like to discuss," the Headmistress said as the Great Hall filled with unease.

Hermione heard a groan just behind her. She turned to her left, tensing further when she found Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy sat a few inches from her.

"Salazar, what else is there?" Blaise grunted. "A sub-law forcing us to hug a Hufflepuff a day? Starting a charity to help Marcus Flint and his urgent, dental reconstruction? Adopting a house-elf for this damn S.P.E.W. thing I keep hearing about in the kitchens? I'm exhausted, mate. Just fucking exhausted. I'm this close to ditching this world and passing off as a muggle."

Hermione waited for Malfoy to react, to tell his fellow Slytherin just how degrading it would be for a pureblood to even think of sharing air with a muggle, let alone the shame of pretending to be one, but nothing came out of his mouth. Instead, he kept his silver eyes locked at the front of the Great Hall.

"There are clauses enclosed in this Restoration and Magical Retention Act—"

"Marriage law!" yelled Ginny. At the glaring eyes of Headmistress McGonagall and the impatient ones of the Minister, she tersely added, "call it by what it really is at least. You're marrying us off under this law."

"First," continued Kingsley, turning to address the students agreeing in whispers with Ginny Weasley, "from this day on, you will have a year to wed. We are aware you are currently in school, but Headmistress McGonagall will provide a timeline of available dates to consider. Secondly, for all those subjected to this law who are members of the LGBTQ community, the Ministry sees you. You will not be forced into heterosexual marriages for the sake of reproduction. More of what this law requires from you after the sorting, however. And lastly, if you fail to comply with the law, the Ministry has developed a potion capable of suppressing magic. If you do decide to not proceed with this sorting, you will be administered this potion, your wand will be confiscated, and you will not be allowed to remain within the British Wizarding community."

"What—come on!" Theodore Nott growled from his row. "You can't do that! The Ministry has no right to strip us of our magic! It is inhumane!"

"So was losing millions of our people in a needless war for supremacy," said a Hufflepuff witch nearest the furious Slytherin. "But here we are, trying to rebuild despite all of that. So aid in helping improve this world, Nott, or hand over your wand."

Despite the looming despair over them, students near the two managed to laugh at Nott's shocked expression that was quickly withering away like he had been submerged in a cauldron full of love (lust) potion.

"Hogwarts will be providing you with a Marriage and Family Life course to help transition you," Kingsley continued. "These classes begin this afternoon. You will not be graded by standard marks, but you will need to pass this course by the end of the year. If your instructor thinks you have not learned anything about the mechanics of understanding your new spouse, then you shall continue taking the course even after the marriage has been solidified. Classes outside Hogwarts will be monitored by the Ministry and will require further counseling sessions."

"Merlin," groaned Neville from his seat beside Seamus. "There's homework on how to be married? I've got Advanced Potions this term. I'm going to be stretched thin."

"You have got it all wrong, Longbottom," Pansy Parkinson laughed from her place behind the two Gryffindors. "You can't learn this from a book. Marriage is a shitstorm when it's an arranged one. Why else do you think we all have terrible home-lives? Our parents hate each other."

"Or are related," said Tracy Davies with a cringe that reflected off other students.

"The sorting will start now," the Headmistress announced as Kingsley stepped aside, giving her the attention of the miserable students in front of them. "Before we proceed, this goes without saying: no vulgar remarks or acts of violence will be tolerated during or after the sorting. Keep in mind that the sorting hat was indeed created for the purpose of knowing where a person belongs—or, in this case, whom they belong with."

Harry reached for Ginny's hand, squeezing tight as she narrowed her blue eyes at the hat on top of the stool.

"To all girls bound to this new law: I will call your name, you will come forward, and your spouse will join you," said McGonagall just as Kingsley conjured a scroll of parchment from thin air. As he unraveled it, the first person she called for was Hannah Abbot.

The Hufflepuff girl paled in a manner that made Hermione recall their first time in the Great Hall, back when they were wide-eyed, terrified children about to be sorted into their Houses. Alike that time, Hannah slowly walked toward McGonagall, her hands shaking the entire time.

Soon as Kingsley set the sorting hat on her head, it came to life and shouted, "Neville Longbottom!"

Everyone turned to the newfound hero. Neville gawked back at Hannah, no intent to stand from his seat apparent in his shocked features.

"Mate," Seamus muttered, slapping him hard on the shoulder. "It's not so bad."

"'Course it's not bad," Neville breathed out, "it's brilliant!" As he stood, grinning, making Hannah do just the same (just before she started growing pink with worry that she had completely misread all the signs building throughout the years between them). "To think I was waiting for the courage to tell her I was mad for her, but now I get to skip that awkward part and just marry her."

Seamus looked at him like he lost all his quaffles, but their other friends smiled and clapped for the new couple. They even let out happy noises when he took Hannah by the hand, helping her off the stool with a massive smile on both their blushing faces.

"Cho Chang," called the Headmistress next.

Ginny stilled in her seat, a flush of red glowing under her pale cheeks as the Ravenclaw made way to the front of the room.

"I know what you're going to say," Ginny muttered to Hermione soon as she leaned over, placing a hand on her knee that crossed over Harry's lap, too. "Women should not be pitied against each other because of men. And I'm not going to hate her for her past with Harry. I'm just going to burn this place down if she ends up engaged to him."

"It's not what I was going to say," Hermione whispered back, "and it's not going to happen, either. Cho was a wreck when she and Harry were together, remember? She was struggling with the same things he was struggling with. And the thing is, both of them needed people who not only could understand them but could challenge them to live. They're just not that for each other."

"I'm literally right here," Harry huffed at his best friend and his girlfriend. "Please don't dissect my relationship with Cho right now."

Hermione was about to offer him an apology, but the sorting hat exclaimed, "Blaise Zabini!"

Right behind Hermione and the other proud Gryffindors, the chosen Slytherin uncrossed his arms. A long second passed before he even realized that he had been called. When he had, he stood, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles on his pristine, crisp robes.