Ginny Weasley was sitting at her best friend’s breakfast table, sipping a cup of tea. The sunlight filtered in through the pale yellow curtains and a small house elf named Prongs was making breakfast. Prongs had been a gift from Harry, though Hermione had promptly freed her, and Prongs was now the highest-paid elf in the country. The tantalising aroma of bacon filled the kitchen, but Ginny was oblivious to her surroundings.
All of her attention was focused on the article in front of her. Each word added to the growing dread she’d felt when she’d unfurled the paper and read the headline, which proclaimed: Ministry Passes Law To Save Our World. The by-line was Rita Skeeter and the article filled three pages.
The Ministry announced a surprising new law yesterday to regulate the frightening rise in nationwide Squib births. The Marriage Law requires each young man seventeen or older put a Marriage Contract on a woman of a different blood type.
This shocking decree has caused an outcry among witches and wizards of all blood types. Augustus Pye, Healer and newly appointed Chief of Contracts, attempted to explain how intermarriages, carefully regulated, can reduce -
Ginny got no further. With a pleasant, “Good Morning,” Hermione entered the breakfast nook at her house in Hogsmeade. Pouring herself a cup of tea and accepting a plate of bacon sandwiches from Prongs, she looked at Ginny. Seeing the distraught expression on the younger woman’s face, concern filled her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“This,” Ginny spat, tossing the newspaper across the round wooden table. Sitting in the other chair, Hermione read the article, her lips forming a silent mew of shock.
“They can’t,” she whispered.
“They did,” Ginny responded bitterly. “I don’t know what you’re worried about. Ron will Contract you and everything will be rosy in your life. There’s no one I want to marry, not since -” she stopped abruptly. She never spoke to anyone of that night. She’d simply returned home, packed her trunk and joined her brother Charlie in Romania.
Hermione frowned. Ginny needed to go back. She’d just arrived the night before, and no one knew yet that she’d come to town. If he found out, he’d put a Contract on her for spite and tie her to him. Ginny’s face reflected the same fears.
“It’s a good thing I haven’t unpacked.” She flicked her wand in the direction of Hermione’s spare bedroom and continued, “I’m sorry to leave, but if I stay…”
“I know.” Hermione gave Ginny a quick hug. At that moment, an owl swooped out of the fireplace, freezing both girls in place. The owl was carrying a pale blue scroll. Ginny trembled. Gently pushing her back into the chair, Hermione retrieved the letter. As she suspected, it was a Contract, but the name on the line labelled ‘Bride’ wasn’t Ginny’s.
“WHAT!” she bellowed, dropping the parchment. Startled, Ginny bent to retrieve it. It clearly stated that Hermione had been Contracted and she was to report to St. Mungo’s for the necessary blood tests within a week. A gasp escaped her lips as she read the groom’s tightly controlled signature: Viktor Krum.
Hermione’s face was pale. Viktor had moved to London four years before to accept a teaching post at Hogwarts. He’d been hoping to reunite with Hermione, but found that she was dating Ron and wasn’t interested in renewing their former tie. Ginny, two years out of Hogwarts herself, had gone on a few uneventful dates with him, a fact she’d hidden from Hermione. She now wondered if that had been the right thing to do.
She picked up the discarded newspaper. “Listen to this, ‘If two or more wizard’s attempt to Contract the same witch, all parties will be summoned to a Dispute Trial, during which one claim will be validated,’” she read. “Hermione, Ron can still Contract you, and if Viktor doesn’t withdraw his claim, Ron’s sure to win the Trial! He’s English and you’ve been together for ages. Viktor’s a Bulgarian, and most of the community still doesn’t trust him because he went to Durmstrang.”
A tiny glimmer of hope lit Hermione’s eyes. She wiped away the beginnings of a tear and smiled. Honestly, Ginny wasn’t all that sure Ron would win. Viktor was a Hogwarts professor, while Ron’s biggest achievement to date was his promotion to Head Clerk at Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. Still, Ginny’s reassurance seemed to make Hermione feel a bit better.
“You’d better go,” she said shakily.
“I’ll send you an owl in a few days,” Ginny told her, giving her one last hug. “Don’t worry. He doesn’t know where to find me.” With that, she turned on the spot and disappeared.
Hermione sighed. She knew Ginny couldn’t have stayed, not with this law out there, but she wished for her best friend’s presence at the trial she knew was sure to come. Viktor would never withdraw his claim – she knew that as surely as she knew what would happen once she arrived at work. If the Contracts required Ministry approval, then everyone in her department was sure to know that Viktor was Contracting her. It was just a matter of time before Ron showed up, ready to challenge him to a duel. Before, she would have counted on Harry to make Ron see reason, but now…
Mentally, she shook herself. She’d better get dressed. She pulled her hair into a rather sloppy bun and pulled a set of plain green work robes from her closet. She dressed quickly. It wouldn’t do for the Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to be late for work. She’d risen to the position of department head when she’d succeeded in freeing the house elves. After years of enslavement, her work with S.P.E.W. had finally paid off. The elves were free, receiving fair wages and benefits. She hurried to the fireplace. Prongs was nowhere to be seen. Shrugging, she grabbed a pinch of Floo Powder from her crystal vase on the mantle (it had been a housewarming gift from her now estranged parents) and tossed it into the flames.
“Ministry of Magic Atrium,” she shouted. The fire roared for a moment and then receded. Hermione was gone.
