A/N: I don't own Harry Potter

This is for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Auction Day three - Trope: Marriage Law - 5 coins

Word Count: 1715

The owl glided past the house, circling back around until it found a large window. It landed on the windowsill and pecked at the glass to get the attention of the person inside. The house was a modest one, made of large grey stones. There was moss growing on one side and a large wooden porch on the other.

The roof was a pale terra cotta color with a stone chimney and several tiles with holes in them for birds to nest inside. The owl tapped impatiently at the window until finally a shadow inside the house pushed it open and allowed the bird to fly inside.

"From the ministry, I assume," the wizard asked, looking at the tawny owl. It hooted loudly and presented its leg. He unwrapped the message causing the owl to take back off out the open window. He sighed, pulled the window closed and sat down at the large oak table. He already knew what the letter would say. He knew the marriage law had passed, knew he had to marry someone he most likely didn't know, didn't love.

He wondered if his new wife would kill him the first full moon night they were together. He tossed the envelope on the table, not wanting to open it. Maybe if he pretended it didn't exist, pretended he didn't get it, it would buy him some time before he was forced to marry. It wasn't as if he didn't want to marry, but the man he loved was dead.

The witch he loved was dead. He still remembered Tonks' death, how her body had been found in the Department of Mysteries, lifeless. No one could tell him exactly what had happened. It didn't matter. He'd been about to marry her, about to start a life with the woman he loved. Now, now he was being forced to marry someone else.

Tears pricked his light brown eyes. He reached over and grabbed the letter, ripping it open. He skimmed it quickly looking for the name of the woman, the witch, he would be spending the rest of his life with. He wondered what she was doing right now. Was she reading the same letter and wrinkling her nose the moment she saw his name? He finally found her name, his eyes widening!

"Hermione Granger?" he whispered. "I'm supposed to marry Hermione?" he shouted, throwing the letter onto the table. "I'm supposed to destroy a young life by chaining her to me? She's a child!" he yelled, shaking with fury. He knew that last part wasn't true. Hermione Granger was most certainly no longer a child. She was, in fact, a lovely witch of about twenty years old. That didn't change the fact he remembered teaching her while she was in school. It didn't change the fact he was old enough to be her father. What was the ministry thinking? Was it even capable of having an actual thought?

"What am I supposed to do now? Write her, tell her that I can't do this to her? No, if I don't marry her, she'll be exiled. That's the price for not complying, isn't it?" he muttered, looking at the letter again. He sat there for awhile, losing track of time, not that time mattered to him anymore. It was dark when he finally looked up, finally snapped out of his thoughts.

There was a large white snowy owl sitting on the windowsill watching him. He remembered Harry having an owl like that, another casualty of war. He scrambled to his feet and let the bird inside. It flew and landed on the table, presenting its leg and the attached letter for Remus to read. He took it, wondering who would be writing him.

He didn't get a lot of mail anymore, not since the war ended. Hermione did write occasionally asking questions about this or that for her research at the ministry. He smiled thinking about the fact she'd been asking him lately about werewolf rights and suggesting in not so many words, that changes might be coming.

Harry wrote him semi-regularly. Remus wondered who Harry was being forced to marry. He knew he had had his sights set on Ginny Weasley. The ministry's stupid marriage law was going to destroy a lot of lives. He turned his attention back to the letter in his hand. Instantly he recognized the scrawl of the words, the scent on the parchment.

Hermione. He frowned. She must be writing because, like him, she got her letter from the ministry. She must be writing to say how she didn't want to marry him, that she would figure out a way out of this arrangement. A slight smile played across his lips as he thought about Hermione burying herself with books and research to get out of this stupid law. He tore the letter open, wondering if Hermione had already started her research, if she had started the moment she'd read his name.

Dear Remus,

it may come as a surprise to you that we have been matched by the ministry latest moronic act, AKA, the marriage law. I do not know if you've managed to evade the ministry's owls, or if you're merely planning to ignore them by throwing the letters in the fire. They do not make good kindling though.

He read. He smiled, a small laugh escaping his lips. He'd forgotten this side of Hermione, the side that could make him smile, make him laugh, despite how bad things were.

I know you are probably thinking that this is horrible news and that the ministry is once again overstepping its bounds. That is true, and I fought hard to keep this law from passing because I knew exactly what it could mean for you and for many others. The fact you are inflicted with lycanthropy would make any match the ministry tried to make potentially dangerous for both you and your match.

Remus stared at those words. Leave it to Hermione to figure out one on the many flaws in this law. The idea that Remus could hurt whoever he was paired with made him shudder. Yes, the wolfsbane potion worked, but what if.. there were always so many what ifs. He realized Hermione already knew about his condition, she was actually capable of brewing the potion. Suddenly the fact he and her were matched didn't seem quite so horrible.

That is why I might have had a bit of hand in making sure that proper matches were made for certain people. I mean, it's for the health and safety of everyone if you were matched with someone who could handle your furry little problem. Someone who has your best interests in mind, who could care about you, possibly grow to love you, in spite of the your condition... which does not define you, mind you. I know I may not have been your first pick, but I do have an advantage over many witches in that I already care about you and enjoy the letters we exchange. Besides, the idea of me being paired with someone who doesn't understand my love for reading and knowledge would have been a horrid fate for the both of us.

Remus burst out laughing, a full on howling laugh. Hermione had rigged it. Somehow the brilliant little witch had rigged it. She had set herself up to be his match! His heard soared for a moment. She had picked him! Hermione Granger had picked him! He was smart enough to read between her well written lines, lines written in case the ministry started reading people's mail again.

I hope you'll write me back quickly so I don't have to go searching for the cottage you've holed yourself up since the war, although I do have a fairly good idea where it is, and if it's not too small, it might make a nice home for us. I hope to hear from you soon,

your future wife (by choice)

Hermione

Remus smiled as he summoned a sheet of parchment and a quill from the counter. There were several ink bottles, quills and stacks of parchment strategically placed throughout the cottage. One never knew when they might have a brilliant idea and need to jot it down. He knew Hermione would appreciate this touch.

My dearest Hermione,

I have received the letter from the ministry, followed quickly by your own letter. I was shocked to see your name and may have said a few choice words about where the ministry could put their ideas about matches. However, your letter did clear up things nicely. I am sending you the coordinates to my cottage, which is large enough for the both of us and any ministry ordered offspring that might be required,

Remus wrote, he paused at that thought. He knew that was the purpose of the marriage law, to produce more young witches and wizards to increase the dwindling population. He found that the thought of procreating with Hermione wasn't nearly as offensive as he'd first thought, in fact, it was quite the opposite.

I hope you'll visit soon and we can start arranging our wedding. I was thinking something small with a tiny guest list? I am very glad you wrote me and I look very forward to seeing you

your future husband, not objecting at all,

Remus

He smiled as he sealed the letter in the envelope. The snowy owl had apparently made itself at home in his sink. He shook his head.

"She told you to wait for an answer, didn't she?" he asked. The owl hopped up, presented its leg and hooted loudly. Remus attached the letter and watched the owl soar off into the night sky. He smiled thinking about how much he still hated this law, but the idea of being married to, and spending his life with, Hermione made it not as terrible. He had feeling he could grow to love her, she was exactly the kind of witch he would have picked if he'd had some choice in the matter. They did make a good pair, intelligence wise. He smiled thinking about how Hermione laughed, how she smiled. Yes, maybe there was something good to come out of this law after all.