Chapter two

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

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Hermione followed the Headmaster up the winding stairs that led to his office. Upon arriving at the top, she stared blankly into his office; it had not changed a bit in the six years she'd attended Hogwarts, and she doubted it ever would. The Headmaster gestured her to one of two chairs. Hermione took the one on the right, noting that the one on the left was currently occupied by Mandy Brocklehurst, a Ravenclaw in her year.

"Hi, Hermione," said Mandy, though Hermione could tell the girl knew she would receive no response. Hermione's blank expression didn't change as she waited for the Headmaster to speak and start the meeting.

"Before we begin," said the Headmaster, "Miss Granger, I understand that being friends with Harry for the past six years has made you privy to much information regarding the Order of the Phoenix. That being said, I doubt you will be shocked by much of what I have to say. However, Miss Brocklehurst, in this conversation I am going to reveal a few well guarded secrets dealing with the Order. Before we go any further, I need your assurance that nothing we discuss today will leave this room."

Mandy's eyes sparkled just like the Headmaster's usually did when he was excited. She seemed both shocked and elated that he would be willing to reveal secrets to her. Hermione thought the girl was an idiot; the Headmaster was obviously only going to tell them whatever Order business related to the bad news he was about to share. Mandy, however oblivious, spoke with a steely determination.

"You have my word that whatever we discuss will be confidential, Headmaster."

"Excellent, then!" responded Dumbledore, a twinkle in his eyes.

Hermione watched as the Headmaster settled back in his chair. Noting his position, she shifted so that she was comfortable, as it appeared this would be a long conversation. With a small sigh, Hermione listened as Dumbledore began speaking.

"Miss Granger, Miss Brocklehurst, I don't know if either of you are aware of this, but this past January, Lucius Malfoy came before the Wizengamot with a rather peculiar proposal. He declared that as a concerned Pureblood he'd been researching the number of Squib births in the past ten years. Now of course, the Ministry's highest ranking researchers had already researched Squib births and discovered that Squib births are a by-product of Purebloods intermarrying."

While Hermione was not surprised by any of the information on Squibs, as the findings had been reported in the Daily Prophet six months previous, she was curious as to what one Lucius Malfoy had to do with it. Feeling tired, she wished Dumbledore would just get onto the point so she could go lie down.

"So, obviously," continued Dumbledore, "the Wizengamot was unsurprised when Lucius stated that his conclusions matched exactly the conclusions the Ministry researchers had come up with. However, Lucius' answer to the problem of Squib births was most surprising. According to Lucius, all the wizarding world would need to do to prevent Squib births was introduce fresh blood lines into pureblood families. In other words, he wanted to ensure that Purebloods reproduce with Muggle-borns. That day, Lucius proposed a law that would force Muggle-borns to marry purebloods, against their will in some cases."

Looking at a mirror placed behind Dumbledore's desk, Hermione noted that all the blood had drained from her face, leaving it a sickly, pale, white colour. If Lucius got his hands on any muggle-born, that girl would be tortured, raped and dead within a week.

"Pardon me, sir," interrupted Mandy. "But Lucius Malfoy was proven to be a Death Eater. Why would he want to taint his lines with Muggle blood?"

"An excellent question, Miss Brocklehurst; you must keep in mind that Lucius wasn't a proven Death Eater until February at the battle of Hogsmeade. Back in January, he had to act like he was against Lord Voldemort. By creating this law, he made it seem like he was only interested in preventing Squib births, when in reality, he was trying to legally capture Muggle-borns for torture."

Mandy gasped as the realization of the purpose of the law finally hit her. Hermione rolled her eyes at Mandy's ignorance. While Hermione's grades had been suffering a great deal, she was proud to have the knowledge that she would never be as dim-witted as the girl she was currently sitting next to.

Noticing Mandy's distress, Dumbledore promptly tried to alleviate her fears.

"Don't worry, my dear. Now, as you both know, Lucius Malfoy was killed in the battle of Hogsmeade and obviously unable to see to it that the law was put into action."

Hermione heard Mandy sigh in relief at this statement and turned to glare in her direction. Weren't Ravenclaw's supposed to be smart? They couldn't be completely off the hook...if they were, Dumbledore wouldn't have needed to speak with them. Taking a deep breath, Dumbledore continued.

"Now girls, when Lucius Malfoy was in charge of the law, the requirements were as follows: Any unwed male Pureblood between the ages of seventeen and forty may petition for the hand of any female Muggle-born between the ages of seventeen and thirty-five. Once a Muggle-born receives an offer, she has no choice but to accept the offer within a week's time. If a Muggle-born receives more than one petition for her hand, she may then choose between the petitioners. If, however, at the end of the week no petitioner has been chosen, the Muggle-born automatically goes to the first petitioner."

Hermione saw Mandy's face go white as she heard the specifications of the law. Hermione knew that even if Lucius Malfoy was dead, Dumbledore wouldn't be telling them this if it didn't have a purpose.

"Professor?" asked Mandy. "If Lucius Malfoy is dead, then what happened to the law?"

"Ah, yes, Miss Brocklehurst, I was getting to that. Well, for the first two weeks after Lucius' death, the law remained dormant in the Ministry. No one really knew what to do with it. As I am a member of the Wizengamot, I attempted to get the Minister to see reason. I told Cornelius that since Lucius Malfoy was a proven Death Eater, the law was obviously just a way to enslave Muggle-borns. I implored the Wizengamot to destroy the law."

Hermione stared unblinkingly at the Headmaster. She knew that if he had succeeded in destroying the law, then she and Mandy, the only female Muggle-borns in the school that were of age, would not currently be sitting in the Headmaster's office.

"Unfortunately," continued Dumbledore, "while Cornelius saw that the law would cause disaster among Muggle-borns, he also saw Lucius' research on the rising Squib births very clearly. The Wizengamot declared that the facts on which the law was made were indeed sound and that with some tweaking, the law could still hold some use in Wizarding society."

Mandy was visibly shaking now, and Hermione could barely contain a smirk at the girl's weakness.

"So, how did they tweak it?" asked Mandy.

"They tweaked it," stated Dumbledore, "by keeping the marriage law but shifting the power to the Muggle-borns. The new law states that every female Muggle-born that fits the age requirements I mentioned earlier has one week to petition for the hand of a Pureblood male between the ages I've already shared, who must accept a petition within one week of receiving the first one."

"So what you're saying," responded Mandy, voice shaking, "is that since Hermione and I are the only Muggle-borns in our year, we have to petition a Pureblood to be our husband?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily and looked between the two girls.

"Unfortunately, that is exactly what I'm saying."

Mandy's eyes finally spilled the tears she'd been holding back since Dumbledore started speaking. Hermione did not feel anger or resentment toward the girl at this time, as she herself was currently struggling to breathe. Mandy's cries continued for quite a few minutes, in which Dumbledore offered her his handkerchief. Only then, when her face was red and splotchy, did Mandy's voice come out in choked sobs.

"But I can't marry some prejudiced Pureblood! I'm in love with Terry!"

At the mention of Mandy's boyfriend of two years, Dumbledore's eyes began to twinkle in merriment. Hermione knew he must have been waiting for Mandy to bring up Terry.

"Ah, Mr. Boot," answered Dumbledore. "Tell me, Miss Brocklehurst, when is Mr. Boot's seventeenth birthday?"

"Tuesday," she responded, dabbing ferociously at her eyes with the handkerchief.

"Then I believe that is your answer." Dumbledore sat back in his chair, a slight smile on his face. When Mandy did not respond, he continued.

"The law was only made official this morning, and as you have one week in which to petition, I suggest that you wait until this Tuesday and then petition for Terry. Assuming he will accept, we can only cross our fingers and be happy that you have the opportunity to marry someone you love."

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Mandy visibly relax and then shift comfortably back into her seat. Mandy wiped the remaining tears off her red cheeks with the back of her hand and gave the handkerchief back to the headmaster.

"Thank you, Headmaster," she said quietly.

"You are quite welcome, Miss Brocklehurst. However, I would ask that for the sake of privacy you refrain from speaking to Mr. Boot on this subject until I can meet with you both. Would tomorrow afternoon be a convenient time to meet?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent!" spoke Dumbledore brightly. "Now, unlike you, Miss Brocklehurst, there are others whose decision is not quite as simple. If you would be so kind as to leave me to confer with Miss Granger."

Recognizing her cue to leave, Mandy got up and shot a sympathetic look to Hermione before exiting the room. Once the door was shut firmly behind her, Dumbledore spoke.

"It's nice to see that even with this law looming over her head, she still managed to come to a reasonable decision that will make her happy."

Hermione turned toward Dumbledore and scowled. She knew Dumbledore was going to try to get her to speak, but she didn't know if she was ready yet. When Dumbledore got no response, he continued.

"Miss Granger, one year ago, had you asked any staff member who the smartest, liveliest and most talkative student in the school was, the answer would have been unanimously you. Now I understand that this year has been tougher on you than on most people, and in most cases, I would just give the student time to work through their problems. However, as you are now under the guardianship of the school, I feel the need to intervene. It was brought to my attention about two weeks after the Battle that you had not spoken, to anyone's knowledge, and had been neglecting all your schoolwork. Now, nearly a month and a half after receiving that tip, you show no change."

As he spoke, Hermione's scowl deepened. She listened to the Headmaster, praying he wasn't going to tell her to just "get over it."

"Miss Granger," he continued. "Wars are hard on everyone and everyone changes during war times. However, it is simply not healthy for a young witch like yourself to completely cut herself off from the world. I'm not going to ask you to forget those that have passed or even to be happy; but what I am asking is not to bottle it all up and talk to someone. It doesn't even have to be me; it can be anyone you wish. I'll even bring someone to Hogwarts if you think it will help.

"For the next few hours, as we discuss your options regarding this law, I want you to speak your mind. Give me your opinion, tell me what you agree with, what you disagree with; just don't stare at me with that blank look you've had on your face for two months."

Dumbledore's voice was soft and pleading. When she looked up, she saw tears in his eyes. So he really does care about us, thought Hermione, surprised he thought of her as more than a weapon to be used in the war. Swallowing, Hermione stared at the Headmaster.

"Yes, sir," she said.

Dumbledore smiled brightly, a smile she had not seen since the start of their meeting.

"Now," he said, "I do believe we are getting somewhere."

"Alright, Professor," stated Hermione. "What are my options?"

"Well, my dear," he answered, a sad tint to his eyes, "you obviously have to get married. Tell me, Miss Granger, do you have any prospects?"

"None; I was dating Ron but we broke it off. I don't think I'd ever be able to tolerate being married to him." Hermione paused, considering her options. "Problem is, most of the purebloods in the school are Slytherin, and most of them are sons of Death Eaters."

After a moment of silence, Dumbledore pushed his half-moon spectacles up the bridge of his nose and spoke.

"Miss Granger, you are a brilliant young woman, one of the most brilliant Hogwarts has ever had. I should think that if we looked at the facts of the situation, a solution should present itself. Do you agree?"

"Yes, sir."

"The first fact is that you must marry a Pureblood of age. Now, here's where it gets tricky. To my knowledge there are no Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw Purebloods that are of age, so we must conclude that you will have to marry someone older. Do you agree so far?"

"Yes, sir."

"The second fact is that you must marry someone who does not wish to harm you, Harry or the Order. Tell me if you disagree, but it was my assumption that the next logical choice would be to marry someone in the Order." He paused, and when she stared blankly at him, he asked, "Do you agree?"

"I see how it's the logical choice, sir," answered Hermione. "But I barely know any of the Order members, besides the Weasleys. I wouldn't know who to choose."

"Well, my dear, that brings me to our third and final fact."

"Sir?" Hermione was extremely puzzled by Dumbledore's last statement. They knew they needed someone of the right age, alliances and bloodline. What else was there to talk about?

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"Miss Granger, the third fact I wish for you to consider is your happiness." Upon seeing her face form another small frown, he pressed on.

"Now, before you scowl at me, I'd like for you to consider that you've not been happy since before this past Christmas. While no one expects you to be happy, as your legal guardian, I think it would be incredibly foolish of me to allow you to rush into a marriage with a random Order member you have nothing in common with and will eventually come to hate."

Dumbledore attempted to look into Hermione's eyes, but she had already turned to stare at the floor, a scowl on her face.

"Miss Granger, please look at me because I need you to understand this." She looked up, and he saw tears rolling down her cheeks. Happy he always thought to carry two handkerchiefs around, he handed her his spare. While she dabbed at her eyes, he continued.

"Miss Granger, there is no divorce in the wizarding world. As much as we dislike it, within two weeks you will be married. I must admit to you that I do not expect a happy marriage during the war. However, the war will end in time, and I warn you that though the chaos and danger that comes with wartime will vanish, your marriage will remain intact. After the war you will still be married, and I want you to be happy with the man you choose. Do you understand?"

Hermione spoke, in a voice so quiet he almost didn't hear her. "That's assuming I'll survive the war."

"Miss Granger," he answered sharply. "We mustn't think that way. We can only assume that we will live and that life will go on. Now, stop scowling at me; you know I speak the truth. I swear, right now you're tied with Severus Snape for the Scowl of the Year competition."

For the first time in months, Hermione snorted with laughter upon hearing a joke. For a moment, no matter how brief, Dumbledore watched as her face lit up and knew that there was a small modicum of the old Hermione Granger still present in the body before him.

"There we go," whispered Dumbledore. "Now do you see why your happiness is so important?" He watched as a few more tears slipped down Hermione's cheeks. She wiped them off reverently and nodded.

"It's just so unfair," she whispered. She took a moment to collect herself and then looked up and asked a question.

"But how do you suggest I find out which eligible man in the Order will make me the happiest?"

His eyes once again twinkling, Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair and responded.

"And this is where the conversation gets interesting."

"Sir?"

"Miss Granger, as we speak, nine Pureblood males are gathering in the Room of Requirement, which has transformed itself into a grand hotel. They are currently unaware of why they are there; I sent a note saying I'd stop by and explain later. I must ask you not to interrupt as I share with you my plan. Tomorrow evening, in the ballroom of the Grand Hotel, I will be holding what I call my Cinderella Masquerade Ball. However, instead of masks, like Muggle balls, each man will be wearing a glamour charm that will make them each appear exactly like the Prince Charming from the muggle fairytale Cinderella. You will not be able to recognize any of them, for they will look and sound exactly the same.

"Now, tomorrow morning, I want you to go find the most beautiful Muggle dress and buy it. Tomorrow evening at eight, I want you to show up ready for the ball. You will stay at the ball until you have spoken with each suitor and, preferably, danced with them.

"At the end of the night you will come back here and tell me which suitor you felt most comfortable with. After that, I will reveal the identity of all the men. I suppose after that, you should go talk to the man you chose and get his take on the situation. You will still have a couple of days before you have to make a decision, but I believe that this course of action will help you make that decision in an unbiased way."

Dumbledore stopped speaking and looked at Hermione over his half-moon spectacles. He was pleased to see that instead of the blank, disbelieving look he expected, her brow was furrowed in concentration, and she looked thoughtful.

"I suppose you've already made up your mind on this, haven't you?" asked Hermione.

"On the basics, yes," he answered. "However, if you were to show me clear reasoning, I'd be willing to change some of the smaller details."

"I don't want to end up with some bloke I've never met before," responded Hermione.

Dumbledore had been planning on this condition. To assure her, he spoke.

"You have my assurance that you have spoken with each of these men at least once this past year. Do you have any other concerns?"

"Well," said Hermione. "I can't exactly go dress shopping with rogue Death Eaters on the loose."

"Excellent point," answered the Headmaster. "Harry and Ron will accompany you."

"Umm," started Hermione, uncomfortable, "can a female accompany me, in addition to Harry and Ron?"

"Would Mrs. Weasley be adequate?"

Hermione hesitated; after losing both her husband and only daughter in the battle, Mrs. Weasley had broken down. After that, she'd become every bit her normal self, acting like nothing was wrong. She seemed happy and cheery, but Hermione knew everyone had their breaking point. Making a decision, she spoke.

"Mrs. Weasley would be fine."

"Any more questions, then?" asked Dumbledore, leaning forward in his chair.

"Well, I haven't any money for a dress," answered Hermione.

"Well, as I am your legal guardian, I must insist you put the dress on my tab." Hermione nodded; some time ago, she would have felt awful taking money from a teacher, but now she was just grateful for all he could give her.

"One last thing," she said. "I don't want the whole school to know about this ball. I understand that once I marry it'll be all over the Prophet, but until then can it be a private affair?"

"Miss Granger, you have my word that the only ones that will be aware of this ball will be those in attendance. Now, it's getting late, and you need some sleep. You've got a big weekend ahead of you."

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"Thank you, sir," answered Hermione as she left his office. As she walked down the corridor to Gryffindor tower, Hermione wondered briefly if this law would ruin her life. Well, I've got nothing to lose she thought. But then she thought of the night she'd just had. Albus Dumbledore had gotten her to speak for the first time in months. Perhaps not all hope was lost.

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Thanks so much to my wonderful beta sequana