Author's Note: I decided to carry on with this story despite the fact that I have other stories going on at the moment. This idea won't go away. I hope you guys like it.

Please review it and let me know what you think of this chapter, 'cause I'm so excited for it. *grins*

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter franchise, I'm only trying to play here. Please don't sue me.

Ron jumped on his bed, burying his head in the pillow and groaning tiredly.

"This was brutal," He mumbled, turning his head to the side and facing both Harry and Hermione as they sat on the other bed.

She couldn't help but agree with his assessment — the meeting had been brutal. The pairings were mostly horrible and some — like Ginevra's — were downright dangerous. It seemed like the names were drawn randomly from a box, with no regards whatsoever for the relationships to be formed in the process.

"You are not the one who has to marry a Death Eater, so don't even start with me," Harry pointed out, leaning on the headboard of the bed before opening his legs for Hermione to settle in between them and rest against his chest.

She pinched his leg, before reproaching: "Don't act like Severus is just another Death Eater."

"Shut up, Harry." Ronald rolled his eyes. "I have to find out if Zabini might try to shove his dick in my arse."

"Oh, please," Harry responded, rubbing the spot Hermione had just pinched but knowing better than to complain. "Don't act like there's a line of people anxiously waiting to shove their dick up your disgusting arse, mate. Zabini is probably used to rich, clean arses."

"Fuck off, you fucker," Ron grumbled. "My arse is fucking clean; you want to check it out?"

"Quit inviting people to check out your ass, Ronald," Hermione mocked, smirking at his glower. "Honestly, is like you want people to get closer to it."

Harry hid his face in her hair to laugh. However, he was howling so loud it served for nothing other than ensuring she would be partially deaf from her right ear for the rest of night.

"You are a horrible friend," The redhead stated, burying his head once again in his pillow.

Before she could respond, there was a knock on the door. She felt Harry instantly freeze behind her, laughter dying on his lips. Hermione knew who it was, though; there was no reason for him to panic yet.

She wandless lifted the wards around the room to allow the potion master to enter. Putting them back immediately after he entered and closed the door. It wouldn't do for someone to hear the conversation they were about to have.

"Miss. Granger, are you aware that that's my husband you're currently rubbing yourself against?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at the scene before him.

"Not your husband yet," She corrected, smugly. "Until you both exchange vows he is mine to do as I please."

Harry, who had relaxed as soon as he saw who entered the room, protested: "I am right here, you know?"

"You are? No one had noticed," Ron mocked, throwing a sassy look towards his best friend.

Severus moved to stand in front of the door, crossing his arms in front of his body.

"Well, who would have thought the princess of Gryffindor was such a depraved young woman? What will your Head of House think?" He mocked, smirking in a very familiar way. She had, after all, learned from him.

"Perhaps she'll be willing to forgive my transgressions if I explain the one who taught me how to behave," Hermione said, enjoying having the chance to speak with him away from the rest of the Order.

"Miss. Granger, you will not, under any circumstances, blame me for your absurd behavior, do you hear me?" He sneered. "The stupid-heads you call friends are entirely responsible for your pedestrian actions."

"Pedestrian? I'll have you know that I'm practically royalty," Harry said, brushing his bangs out of his forehead. "See? Boy-who-is-destined-to-defeat-the-most-annoying-man-to-ever-grace-the-earth."

"Man, you have to stop trying to come up with these names," Ron complained, shaking his head in disapproval. "You're embarrassing us here, mate."

"What? I just rocked this one," The boy-who-lived protested.

"Harry, honey, just don't," Hermione said, rubbing his leg. "Please."

He grumbled in protest, turning to face Severus. "My future husband surely agrees with my assessment, don't you, peaches?"

Hermione choked with laughter the second she heard the pet name cross Harry's lips, trying to resist the urge to howl when Severus's entire face morphed into a mask of disapproval and derision. Ron, on the other hand, didn't even try to disguise his roar.

"You will never repeat that ridiculous nickname when referring to me, Mister Potter, or I swear I'll torture and kill you myself, with my bare hands, before delivering your cold body to the Dark Lord," Severus demanded, his voice quiet and deadly. "Have I made myself clear?"

"Why, dear, do lighten up," Harry dismissed his treat easily, hugging Hermione's waist to pull her closer, effectively using her body as a shield. "You'll get wrinkles before fifty if you carry on this way."

When Hermione saw the man reaching for his wand, she couldn't stop the yell that escaped her lips, even as she kept on laughing.

"Wait, Severus, don't!" She pleaded, trying to dislodge her body from its position in between Harry's leg, but he wouldn't release his hold on her waist no matter how much she struggled.

"Don't even think about it," Harry whispered, tightening his grip and pressing her in front of his body.

"Ron, help," She begged, trying to stop the laughter but unable to hold the sound in.

"In no way am I getting in the middle of this," He proclaimed, not lifting a finger to help her.

"You're a useless friend," She pointed out, giving up on her struggle and sitting back down in front of Harry.

"Surely not Weasley?" Severus mocked, not one to waste the opportunity of badmouthing someone when the situation presented itself.

"You're a sour little man," The redhead mumbled from his bed, pursing his lips.

"Wait, how come Fleur is even involved in this? She's French," Harry suddenly asked, changing the subject.

"Not anymore, she is not," Ronald said, shaking his head.

"Yes, Miss. Delacour intended to marry Willian soon," Severus informed, finally leaning against the wall and assuming a more relaxed stance. "Since Willian is the oldest Weasley, he's the one who will assume the title and the responsibility of carrying his name forward when his parents are no longer able to do so, therefore he cannot, legally, marry a witch who is not a citizen of Britain. It's an ancient law that no one thought to revisit to these days, so it's still effective. To marry Willian she had to give up her rights as a French citizen."

"Bet she's not happy about that right now," Hermione unhelpfully pointed out, resting her head on Harry's chest.

Severus conceded her point with a nod of the head. "Yes, I suppose Miss. Delacour is deeply regretting her decision."

Harry groaned, rubbing his forehead. "It's just my luck... having to marry a witch who will forever resent me."

"Whining so soon, Potter?" Severus sneered.

"Of course not," He scorned back. "This is exactly what I pictured when I envisioned my married life. An annoying git and a resentful veela."

Hermione signed under her breath — she could understand Harry's frustration. Even if they won the war and managed to change the law, it would all be for the next generations. The magical vows they would all exchange in the next thirty days were irrevocable; they would be bonded for life to these people. Any chance they once had at a normal, loving marriage just slipped past their grasp, leaving only a deep sadness and growing resentment behind.

It wasn't like she ever thought of herself as a romantic person. However, Hermione had had plans for her future, should the war ever end. She wanted to make a name for herself, to travel around the world, to enjoy life like she deserved after this gruesome war. All her plans were for naught. Without the use of contraceptives, it was likely she would be pregnant sooner rather than later.

"You knew nothing of this?" Hermione asked, knowing the answer but unable to keep herself from wondering.

"No," The potion master confirmed, shaking his head lightly. "The Dark Lord has been planning something for quite some while, but I had no idea what it was. Albus was under the impression that it would be another plot to capture and kill precious Potter, but it was all speculation on his part. However, we have to deal with what this means, beyond this marriage law."

"What do you mean by that?"

"There wasn't even a vote, Hermione," Ron answered, sounding more tired all of the sudden. "There wasn't a plan to have the wizengamot believe the wizarding world needed the babies and the mixed marriages. There were no rumors, no discussion. The law was approved by the Minister, who overruled the wizengamot and Albus, as the Chief Warlock."

"So we have to assume the Ministry had fallen under the rule of Voldemort," Harry resumed.

Severus hissed, grabbing his arm. "Do not use that name around me."

"Sorry," He apologized, actually looking repentant for once.

"And the reason they gave was so ridiculous too," Hermione carried on. "There's no research to prove that two wizards are more effective at impregnating a witch than just one. I don't understand, honestly. If the Dark Lord chose the pairings, then why would I get Black and Lupin? I can't believe he would miss the opportunity to have me in his grasps."

"I believe he thought getting hurt by a loved one would be the worst punishment for a muggle-born," The potion master said angrily, fisting his hands and frowning darkly at the thought.

"What do you mean, Remus would never hurt Hermione," Harry defended, instantly sounding defensive.

"Harry-" Ron tried to calm their friend down, but Severus was having none of it.

"You know nothing of Lupin and the beast that lives inside of him, Potter. Stop playing the delusional child and look at what's in front of you for once. Just because you believe Lupin to be above reproach doesn't change the fact that he depends on a potion to refrain from killing people once a month." He spat the words out, allowing his hatred for Remus to saturate the air. "Without it, he will have to be locked up and chained every month."

"Why would he-" Harry began, confused by Severus statement.

Hermione, however, realized what he was talking about the second she crossed eyes with Ronald and saw the resignation on his face. Suddenly she remembered the words on the paper she received. They wanted the contraceptives to works as fast as possible, and that meant…

"The potion!" She exclaimed, moving her hand to cover her mouth. She couldn't believe she hadn't made the association earlier.

"The Wolfsbane?" Harry asked. "Hermione, what's happening?"

"He won't be able to drink it anymore," She explained, allowing her hand to fall into her lap. "The Ministry won't allow anyone to consume any potion that could potentially work to prevent pregnancies. Few potions affect the fertility of a wizard, and Wolfsbane if one of those."

"No doubts a very careful decision made by the Dark Lord," Severus agreed. "Wolfsbane eases all of the symptoms of lycanthropy. It was intended to prevent the drinker from losing his mind during the transformation, but it has some collateral effects that weren't expected when it was created. One of the symptoms of the lycanthropy is enhanced fertility — which we assume exists to protect the existence of the curse. The potion, however, diminishes this effect to almost the opposite. Right now, Lupin is almost infertile, but that's bound to change just as soon as he stops taking the potion."

"That's..." At loss of words, Harry shook his head, not able to accept the fact that the man he considered a part of his family would be forced to give up the potion that made his condition tolerable.

"Barbarian, but effective," Hermione spoke, softly. "Without the potion, it's only a matter of time before the masses are claiming for action from the Ministry. An intervention will be imminent in a few months, if not sooner. It's the perfect opportunity for the Dark Lord to introduce himself as the savior of the wizarding world in more ways than one."

"Fuck," Ron cursed, probably annoyed he hadn't connected the dots much earlier.

Hermione didn't want to think about Lupin, not right now. She searched in her head a possible way to shift the attention to something else — something that did not include her future husbands.

"How come you're here and not with Dumbledore?" Hermione asked after a moment of silence, knowing the old man would want to question Severus as much as he could to plan his next moves.

"Albus is currently trying to calm down the entire Weasley clan," Severus answered, not sounding concerned at all for the fate of his fellow order members. "I took the opportunity to seek my lovely husband."

Hermione knew that was not the case. Severus was there to see her, but Hermione wasn't ready to talk about her matches yet — not before several shots of tequila and perhaps some synthetical drugs. So she deflected.

"Tell us about Zabini," She requested, moving her eyes to Ron in an attempt to mask her turning stomach. "What can we expect from him?"

There was a moment of silence where no one spoke, and Hermione feared she would be called out from her ridiculous attempt at deflection, but the tense moment slipped away as soon as the potion master began to speak. "Zabini is astute and cunning, don't expect anything from him. For all I know he could very well not follow through with this law and run away. He has never shown his cards, so to speak, so there's no way of knowing where his true loyalties belong, but he is friends with Draco so that may be a clue. I have the suspicion that he considers himself to be neutral, however."

"You think he is a threat to me?" Ronald asked, his eyes guarded as they spoke of his future husband.

"If he thinks that your marriage is a threat to his life, yes," The Head of Slytherin said. "He's a Slytherin; he'll do whatever he believes is best for himself. If you wish to ensure he's on your side, you'll have to convince him that's the best shot he's got at surviving this war and coming out on top."

"Some of these matches are going to cause trouble for us," Ronald pointed out the obvious. "Mine is currently not even a concern, to be quite honest. I can deal with Zabini. What about Rookwood or Yaxley? Ginny won't be able to do this."

"This is all a mess," Harry said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What worries me the most is that it's still not clear what Tom wants with the choices he's made. They could all be much more complicated for us, but they aren't. Why?"

Even though the question wasn't directed towards Severus personally, he was the one who answered. Perhaps thinking he was more capable of understanding the Dark Lord's mind than most.

"I don't claim to know all the reasoning behind the choices the Dark Lord makes, but I think the angle here should be more about the children to come than the matches," He said. "Despite being engrossed in this war, the Dark Lord always thinks much ahead of the game. This is probably a way to manipulate people after the war."

"The pregnancies," Hermione exclaimed tiredly, trying not to look at Severus. "I don't want to have these babies. Perhaps we can just abstain if we cannot have any contraceptives at all. Or perhaps Muggle pills would do the trick."

"Don't pretend to be dumb, it doesn't suit you," Severus answered, finally looking like the angry, possessed man she had expected him to be facing the current situation. "Muggle pills will not work on witches, you know that. And the marriage will take care of the rest. You won't be able to resist — the first year of being bound is the worst in terms of unsettled magic between those involved. The need to be close to your partners will be undeniable. Even if you try and fight it, there's no way you'll be able to resist."

None of the boys said anything. Perhaps because they already knew how the wedding worked, or perhaps because they were aware that Severus was talking to her — and only to her. He was furious — much wilder and uncontrolled than he had ever been in a classroom. He had reasons to be, Hermione knew. She was furious too.

They needed to talk, even if Hermione rather they didn't. It would hurt too much. She was suffering enough.

However, the choice was taken out of her hands because Harry nudged her until he got out of bed before he grabbed Ron's arm and dragged him out of the room, closing the door on his way out. No one said a word.

Suddenly it was just the two of them, looking into each other's eyes and searching for a way to have the conversation they knew was coming.

"You won't return to the castle," He pointed out. It wasn't a question, he knew better.

"I don't think so, no," She said, getting up from the bed and walking until they were close enough to touch, should they wish to. "Harry needs to hunt the Horcruxes, you know that, and after this, I think it's time we stopped delaying it. Who knows what changes will be done to Hogwarts now that He has control over the Ministry."

"He'll have to marry me," Severus lowered his voice, making so that the conversation sounded much more intimate than it already was. "The Dark Lord will know where he is."

"We'll run away as soon as you get married," She insisted. "You tell him that. We can't afford to have Harry in such danger."

"And you'll marry the dog and the wolf," He stated, the words sour in his mouth.

She looked at him, needing him to understand how she felt. The thought of marrying them was not a pleasant one, not at all, and it made all sorts of incoherent sentiments run through her body.

"Just look," She pleaded, gazing deep into his eyes.

He didn't hesitate any further, sliding into her mind with an ease that came from a lot of practice. It was almost effortlessly to push his mind forward and penetrate hers. While Hermione learned Occlumency and Legilimency they had done their fair share of invading each other's mind, and by now it wasn't difficult to imagine what was going on inside the other's thoughts.

She felt as he went through her feelings while reading the letter — the terror and disgust at the thought of not having a choice in the matter. She felt as he perused the conversation she had earlier with Black — the arrogance etched in his moves. She felt as he watched them talk to Harry — the whispers and the frowns. He saw it all, and she let him. She needed him to understand.

When he let her mind she almost felt sad to have her thoughts to herself once more. Severus presence was a comfort in her mostly chaotic life.

"This is unbearable," He said, lifting his hand to tug at the end of a strand of her hair that had gotten loose from the bun atop of her head.

Her heart clenched when he executed the motion she saw him doing a thousand times before. It killed her that perhaps that would be the last time he would ever tug at her hair again. After the marriages, everything would be different for them.

Hermione felt a burning sensation in her eyes right before the tears began to roll out. One after the other the tears marked their way down her cheeks while she watched him, trying to capture the moment in her head. That's how she wished to remember him in the future, still looking at her with the same tortured but affectionate eyes that she came to adore.

"Please don't cry," He begged, whispering so low she could bearly hear the words coming out of his lips. "Anything but the tears."

"Runaway with us," She begged in return, stepping closer than before and reaching for his face.

"I can't, you know that," He denied, his face distorted in a troubled grimace. "You know that if I could I would run with you to wherever place on earth, woman. But I'm cursed, this mark won't let me leave."

She didn't answer; she didn't have to. She tugged his head down and met his lips halfway, kissing him like she was about to die. It lacked the finesse she came to expect from him, but it didn't matter — she wasn't looking for finesse. She wanted to forget the world existed even if only for a few more minutes and Severus was only too happy to oblige to her wishes.

He gripped her waist much too strongly, lifting her against the wall and trapping her there with his body. She, in return, grabbed his hair and bit his lips, trying to draw blood in the same way he was trying to draw moans. Hermione knew these moves, knew his body. It was a familiar place and a familiar comfort. When he ground against her core she hissed and cursed, banging her head lightly against the wall.

Hermione needed this. Hermione needed him.

She knew she would have to release him sometime — probably sooner rather than later — but for the moment she chose to be selfish and hang on to him tighter still. She would deal with all the rest later.

AN2: Sooo... don't leave me hanging, okay?