Ten out of Ten by Morriganmercy

Day 2

- NOT MY STORY! All credit goes to @morriganmercy on a03!

Hermione woke the following day with a terrible crick in her neck. She had fallen asleep on her bedroom floor in the early hours of the morning, surrounded by reference texts and a copy of the marriage law legislation. Though the page was covered in notes and several portions were underlined and highlighted, she had made little headway in discovering a loophole that would free them from the arrangement. The last time the British magical government had instituted a decree of this kind was after the Black Death had left the population dangerously small. But records from that time were notoriously spotty, and she couldn't find a single instance of any couples refusing the partnership the Ministry had assigned to them. Kingsley's administration had done a good job of making it ironclad—damn him.

Hermione had been largely supportive of the harsh measures the Ministry took to stamp out any remaining unrest in the wake of Voldemort's fall, including sentencing someone like Malfoy to Azkaban regardless of the fact that he had taken the Mark under duress and only committed serious crimes when forced to. But in truth, she had never expected something as far-reaching as this. She was vehemently opposed to such aggressive control over the choices and lives of the magical population, even if it was at risk of further decline.

There had been rumours of some kind of legislation to address the birth rate problem for years, but Hermione had assumed it would be something along the lines of financial incentives for couples to have more children. Maybe housing vouchers for newlyweds. Government-subsidised fertility potions at every apothecary.

But no, they had skipped straight to forced marriage and breeding for all single people. While Hermione did not appreciate the comparison Malfoy had made the night before to house elf enslavement, she couldn't deny there were similarities: they were bound against their will to commit acts desired by their binders under the threat of punishment. In the harsh light of day, it was hard to see the difference at all.

Feeling thoroughly discouraged, Hermione dragged herself down to the kitchen. She didn't let Malfoy's closed door get her hopes up this time, and indeed, he was sitting in the same chair he had been yesterday with her mother's blender disassembled on the table in front of him. She noted that he'd forgone robes today and simply wore a white button-down and plain black trousers.

"Don't you have anything better to do with your time?" Hermione asked in lieu of a greeting.

"Like what?" he snapped, clearly still testy from their fight the night before.

Hermione set to fixing herself a bowl of cereal. As bizarre as it was to converse with Malfoy in her kitchen—to have him living in her home—it was oddly reminiscent of the vast portion of her life during which she had seen him every single day. She was out of practice from the last few years, but before that, he was always present at her meals, in most of her classes, all too often in her corner of the library. They had barely exchanged more than a few dozen words in that span of time, though, and with the contempt neither of them could conceal from their voices, it was no mystery why.

"I would have thought you would be researching," she said dryly. "Surely you have access to far better resources than I do."

He turned to look at her, confusion overriding his anger momentarily. "Researching what?"

Her spoon hovered in front of her open mouth. "Oh, I don't know, marriage decrees, binding laws, precedence for an appeal process? Does any of that sound relevant to you?"

Malfoy's face fell into a scowl at her tone, but she could see the comprehension behind it.

"There must be some way out of this, right?" she went on. "I mean, we have two weeks before..."