Pretend the World Has Ended

Additional Disclaimer: "Pretend The World Has Ended" is owned by She Wants Revenge and A Whiter Shade Of Pale is owned by Procol Harum, just in case the titles come into question. All song titles are the property of their respective artists, and I make no profit from the use thereof.

Author's Notes: I would just like to bring some attention to my lovely beta Rikithasta, who has been incredibly patient and tolerant, even to the ends of dealing with my babbling without strangling me. And if you think this is an easy task... well, then you have obviously never heard me babble.

Notes to the Admins: For whatever reason, I seem to be having trouble making the form display my notes to the Admins in the submission, so I have included them in the document: This story is extremely AU for OoTP, HBP, and DH, as of Chapter Thirty-Five of OotP. It was written for the MLC four years ago and never posted, thus some canon information has been changed for the purposes of preserving my plot-line. Though I write in the British form of English, I am an American and may slip up here and there.

Part One: A Whiter Shade Of Pale

Glenda Chittock's voice was really somewhat soothing as a background to Hermione's thoughts. The meal had been cleared from the table and replaced with a small Wireless. Harry and Hermione had joined Fred, George, Ron around it to listen to The Witching Hour as Remus, Arthur, and Kingsley had elected to gather in another corner of the kitchen.

Glenda was announcing that Gilderoy Lockhart's sister was putting up three hundred thousand galleons to St. Mungo's permanent spell damage wards, in effort to fund research on memory damage due to excessive force. Hermione suppressed a small noise and shook her head at that. Annabel Lockhart was making a last effort to save her brother, yet it would probably never come to any good end for him. The poor woman had lost a brother and her only confidant all in one night.

St. Mungo's had announced that they were taking a research study of werewolves to identify and attempt to cure various ailments that only seemed to affect their breeds.

The Death Eater factions were wreaking havoc at every opportunity, yet managing to do so in such a way that no one had yet been caught. The Ministry's efforts to prove that certain wizards were Death Eaters were failing. Every one of them had an alibi with their spouse, another suspected Death Eater, occasionally even their children. It was proving nearly impossible to track their activities or put a stop to them, even with Voldemort dead and safely silenced.

'Cornelius Fudge publicly acknowledged the results of a recent Ministry study on the subject of magical genetics, today. The Ministry has released the results of this study to the public as of this afternoon. The Minister spoke on the results briefly this afternoon before announcing his actions toward them,' Glenda continued, as the speech began.

Hermione began to tune out the wireless program as she heard Fudge's first words. Whatever he had to say on the subject of magical genetics couldn't possibly be interesting, the man couldn't think his way out of a cardboard box.

"It has come to the attention of the Ministry of Magic that there has been a moderate and steady increase in squib births, miscarriages, still born children, barren offspring, and low magical manifestations in children born from Pureblood parents. Many families have so much trouble conceiving and carrying one child to full term that they do not try again for fear of complications.

It has also become evident that in cases where a Pureblood has married a half-blood or a Muggle-born witch or wizard, there have been almost no instances of squib births or complications in carrying multiple children to term. These children even seem to be exceptionally powerful, and manifest in their magic much earlier than is considered normal. '

Hermione opened her eyes and stared at the Wireless. "The Minister went on to announce a new law and read it to the public and press," Glenda was saying.

"The Ministry of Magic hear-by acknowledges the precarious state of birthrate and magical genetic material of current times. We therefore decree the following..."

Fudge began listing the terms of what he referred to as the 'Ministry of Magic Domestic Affairs Decree 508: Replenishing Magical Genetics Effort.'

Any half-blood or Muggle-born witch or wizard between the ages of 17 and 65 is available for a marriage by contract. It was lucky that no one happened to be looking at Hermione as this moment, because she blanched noticeably and gripped the arms of her chair.

Hermione's hands tightened on the arms of her chair as each term was announced.

The Head of a Pureblood family may submit a petition for the hand of an available witch/wizard on behalf of any unmarried member of his/her family. The bid may contain certain terms that must be accepted with the proposal. How could they give that sort of power over another person to anyone? Didn't they wonder if the term would be abused?

Further - any witch or wizard having received a petition will have exactly fourteen days to sign and accept the petition. Should he or she receive more than one petition, he or she will have exactly twenty-one days from the date of the last petition received to sign and accept one of the offers. If he or she fails to do so...

Hermione closed her eyes at this and tried to ignore the rest of the Minister's words.

Each couple must produce one child of either sex within two years of marriage.

At this, Hermione rose from her chair and exited the room as quietly as she could. No one seemed to notice her departure, as they were all still focused on Fudge's voice. As she took care to close the door quietly, she heard Fudge speak again, "Within these measures lie the greatest hopes for the Wizarding world. Without them, we will slowly cease to exist."

Hermione wandered up to the third floor, not realising that her feet were carrying her to the library of their own accord. She had never really explored Grimmauld Place's library to her satisfaction, one thing or another had always been more pressing, more important, or just generally prevented her from taking it in at her leisure.

She pushed the heavy door closed behind her, shut her eyes tightly, and took in the smell of old, old books. There was nothing more comforting than the smell of a really good old book, and some of these smelled ancient. Hermione locked and warded the library, taking her time choosing a rather slim volume on the dark arts and settling into an oversized wing chair to peruse it. She was in the middle of a particularly intriguing paragraph about the properties of dark healing potions when an owl tapped on one of the gigantic library windows. Once she had let it into the room, the owl dropped a scroll on an end table and flew out again.

She frowned as she broke the purple seal of the Ministry, wondering what they could want with her now.

Miss Hermione Jean Granger,

This letter is in regards to recent measures passed into law by the Ministry of Magic.

As you may have already discovered, the Ministry has put into effect Domestic Affairs Decree Number 508, commonly known as the Replenishing Magical Genetics Effort.

We are pleased to inform you that as of 4:37 pm on the 16th of January, you were added to the list of witches and wizards available to be petitioned for marriage.

We at the Ministry of Magic Domestic Affairs Department are pleased to offer our best wishes for your impending marriage.

Enclosed is the full text of the Replenishing Magical Genetics Effort for your convenience.

Sincerely -

Stephanie Carnoli, Domestic Affairs Dept. Ministry of Magic

Hermione snorted as she finished reading the letter, then set it aside. Who would petition for her? She was still in school, she was hardly to be considered an 'attractive' woman, and she was well known as a know-it-all with a tendency to cause the Death Eaters trouble. And it was hardly as if the pureblood community would be jumping to acquiesce to the new law. After a few protests and repeated refusals to comply, the law would be a long forgotten memory. Even still... the letter left her with a vague sense of unease that she couldn't quite place. She took the dark arts book and the letter and went up to bed for a night full of what was sure to be restless sleep.

- - - - -

Well outside of London, in the study of his family home, Agentes Snape looked over his bid for Hermione Jean Granger, searching for any last details he may have left out. It was fitting to choose a wife for his son. If Severus were given his own choice, he would never marry. He would allow the Snape family name to die with him, but the new marriage law would force his son to marry and produce children. He would have a wife who was both intelligent in her own right and powerful beyond the rest of her generation. Agentes would have the added pleasure of torturing his son by forcing him to marry his student.

As soon as Agentes Snape signed the bid, it rolled itself up and disappeared with a small pop. He would have heirs and entertainment, his son would raise a huge fuss, and all his wishes would be fulfilled in a relatively short period of time.

As he called for a house elf and gave instructions to ready the estate for guests, Agentes found himself to be a very pleased man.