Amicitia semper prodest, amor et nocet.

(Friendship always benefits, love sometimes injures.)

The day that Hermione Granger received the letter that would end her world, and start her life anew, was precisely on the day of August 3rd, 1999. She had graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry a few months prior, and now lived in a flat by herself.

Hermione had wanted to take some time to herself directly afterward. She had just felt so rushed, going straight back to school months after she had nearly been killed in a war. It felt good to just let herself unwind. But she knew she'd have to get around to searching for a job soon.

She was just taking her morning coffee when a sudden knock at the window was heard. The owl was unfamiliar, but the seal on the letter in it's beak, on the other hand, was not. She could recognize the seal of the Ministry of Magic from a mile away. Had she gotten in trouble? She couldn't fathom why that would be the case.

Hermione set her chipped mug down on the wooden kitchen table, rising from her chair and striding over to the window. She opened the window and took the letter from it's beak, then gave it an Owl Treat and sent it on it's way.

As Hermione opened the letter, she gave a small gasp. It certainly wasn't what she had been expecting. In fact, it was far from it.

Dear Miss Granger,

As part of a new law put into action on July 31st, 1999, all Muggleborn witches and wizards must be married to a Halfblood or Pureblood witch or wizard by their 20th birthday. It is merely to ensure that the magical population keeps increasing.

If you are not married by precisely 11:59 p.m. on the eve of your 20th birthday, the Ministry will have to betroth you to a witch or wizard of our choosing.

The marriage is binding, and cannot be separated.

We are hoping this law will help our population growth. If it does not do well, it will be removed, and you may separate from your spouse if you wish to.

Wishing you well,

Kingsley Shacklebolt

Minister of Magic

Hermione's hands were shaking as she finished reading the letter through. This couldn't be possible. She couldn't be expected to marry someone, just like that. And they'd betroth someone to her if she didn't find someone? It was an infringement of her rights! But it was now law, and that meant it was fact, and that meant that she couldn't do a single thing about it.

Hermione began to panic. What was she going to do? Her birthday was in little over a month, which meant she hardly even had time to find someone to her liking.

There was only one person she could Floo to help her through this.

Harry Potter had been having a perfectly normal morning, thank you very much. He had been sipping orange juice, lounging on his couch in a t-shirt and boxers and flicking listlessly through the Muggle television channels. He had convinced Ron to get one installed in the flat that they shared, and sometimes he still caught his best friend poking at the small people on the screen.

Ron had rushed off that morning, as George needed his help at Wheezes. He had come down with a sort of cold, it seemed, and Ron was needed for backup.

Harry was fine with that, to be honest. Sometimes, he liked having the whole flat to himself. It was definitely quieter without Ron shouting down the stairs, wondering where he had left his lucky Cannon t-shirt with the small hole on the collar. Or, on other occasions, his left sock.

Besides, Harry was still a bit tired out from his 18th birthday celebration a few days ago. He and his best mates (plus Hermione, Ginny, and Luna) had gone off to the Leaky Cauldron for the party. He had lost count of how many Firewhiskies he had drank after number three, and had nearly fallen over as he and Ron had stumbled back home many hours afterward.

So, to say the least, he hadn't expected Hermione Granger's head to pop up suddenly in his fireplace. He quickly threw a pair of sweatpants on and crouched by the green flames.

"Hermione! Not that I'm not glad to see you, but...why did you need to Floo me?" the dark-haired boy asked.

"I need you to come over. Right now. There's...there's a letter, and I need help."

Hermione looked awfully frightened, and one look at her expression was all that it took to convince Harry that he needed to go over there. He grabbed a pair of beat-up trainers, slipping them on and stepping through the fireplace.

Hermione's flat was so much different than his and Ron's. For one, there weren't random articles of clothing scattered all around the floor. It was tidy and neat, not a speck of dust to be seen. And of course there were books. Books here, books there, books on every available shelf.

Hermione stood before him, still dressed in her pajamas, a thin long-sleeve top and a pair of cotton sleep pants. Her hair was tied back into a messy bun, curls fighting their way out and springing up all over the place. She held a mug of coffee in one hand, and a piece of parchment in the other.

"Hermione. What's wrong?" Harry asked, though he had a good sense exactly what.

Hermione wordlessly held the letter out in response, and Harry took it from her. As he began to scan over it, his eyes grew to the sizes of saucers.

"No. I-I...I can't believe this. This can't be possible." he stammered.

"But it is. It says it right there, in the letter." she replied with a sigh, then took a seat on the sofa, putting her head in her hands. "Oh, Harry. What am I going to do? I mean...I can't do this!"

With that, Hermione promptly burst into tears, her shoulders beginning to shake. Harry didn't really know what to do. He finally decided on sitting next to her on the sofa, putting an arm around her shoulders. That seemed to be the right thing to do, as she leaned on him heavily.

"It'll be alright, 'Mione." he tried to soothe her. "Everything's going to turn out alright, just you watch."

"Harry, my birthday's going to be here before we know it." Hermione straightened slightly, her eyes now rimmed with red. "If I don't find someone..."

The words that came out of Harry's mouth next were so unexpected that they were both surprised.

"I'll do it."

Hermione stopped her sniffling altogether, her eyes wide as she gazed up at Harry.

"Wait, what? Did you just-"

"Look, Hermione, we're doing this as friends. I don't want the Ministry to put you with some snotty Pureblood like...like Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. I'm not going to let that happen to you." Harry said firmly, feeling more confident now. "And as soon as the law drops, we can annul the marriage and come out just as we went in. Friends."

Hermione looked like she was slowly going into business-mode, expression becoming determined as she stood.

"We'll have to start making preparations immediately, then. No time for hesitation." she said, starting to pace. "My birthday is in a little over a month, so we need to get everything done at least a week before."

Harry was a bit nervous about this whole arrangement. But Hermione seemed to be approving and seemed to have everything under control, so he shouldn't be worried.

He'd get her through this. And that was a promise.