WARNINGS: This fic will contain scenes of a sexual nature and is a Marriage Law fic, where the couples are paired non-con-sensually. They are also coerced into fancying the pants off each other via chemical stimulants. If that's not your thing, probably don't read.

Pairings for this story include: Hermione/Draco, Ginny/Blaise, Ron/Pansy, Harry/Tracy, Luna/Rolf, Neville/Hannah, George/Angelina and a few others.

If you see this story posted under any other Title, and any other pen name outside of Kittenshift17 or KittenWolf17, it's been stolen, so let me know and report it =) There's a lot of it going around lately unfortunately, so just keep your eyes peeled. I hope you like the story and I apologize in advance that I have SO many WIPs. I've got even more still unpublished... so yeah. Reviews make me write faster and I love to hear your thoughts. xx-Kitten.

Howl For Me


Kingsley Shacklebolt buried his head in his hands at the thought of undertaking the task before him. It was colossal and bound to cause an uprising. Merlin, if he wasn't Minister for Magic and didn't have all the facts…. As surely as he sat there, Kingsley knew that if someone tried to impose a Marriage law contract on him by order of the Ministry he'd go ballistic.

He didn't want to do it. People would probably call for his dismissal as Minister, or perhaps for his head.

There was just no other way. The two wizarding wars that had ravaged Britain had wiped out more than half of the wizarding population. Mostly it was due to the fact that so many of the Death Eaters that had been rounded up, had been given the Dementor's Kiss. What had once been a proud nation boasting more than three thousand witches and wizards, was now down to just over one thousand living, functioning individuals, several of whom were locked up in Azkaban with no hope of release. Running around in the UK there were currently one thousand and fifty three magical beings of the witch or wizards persuasion.

That wasn't the worst part though. The worst thing about that statistic was that several of those Witches and Wizards were married couples who had already had children and were getting on in years. Most were unlikely to have any more children without some kind of Ministry decree, the likes of which he was about to instate.

They needed a way to boost the numbers back up and unfortunately Kingsley saw no other way than to instate a Marriage contract decreeing any witch or wizard over the age of seventeen was to be married and begin having children. It had even been voted on by the Wizengamot. Each person would be advised of the name of their intended spouse and would be bound by a legal contract to wed that person within the month. By further order, each pairing was expected to produce a minimum of four offspring during the course of their marriage, ensuring that they not just replaced themselves on the population, but doubled their numbers.

There was just no other way. After the war, several couples had actually married. Some had even begun having children. But others were out there living their lives free of the Darkness, revelling in being young witches and wizards. And Kingsley was about to ruin it.

He stared at the parchment in his hands, wondering if it could be correct. If there was some way he could get around this law he would do so, but there wasn't. Merlin, even he was about to be forced into an arranged marriage. He'd had several seers, arithmancers and astrologers get together to work on ensuring that the people they would be pairing together would have some shot at happiness. He was less that pleased with the list before him.

Of the 1053 witches and wizards in Britain, 311 were underage or incarcerated in Azkaban for the rest of their natural lives. A further 256 couples were already married, or too old or addled to bother with being forced into a marriage since there was no feasible chance of producing offspring. That left 230 magical folk who were about to be paired off to a person not of their choosing in order to populate the world with more magic folk. Before him was a list of 115 couples since by some strange twist of fate the 230 people were evenly divided as women and men.

And every free, able-bodied witch or wizard in all of Britain was waiting in a massively extended Wizengamot chamber at the Ministry, awaiting the news as to why they had all been summoned together. They were waiting for him to arrive and explain why they'd all been summoned so urgently, why they were about to have their lives uprooted and transplanted into mismatched pots.

Even his. Kingsley stared at the list in his hands again. At the sight of his named paired up with that of a witch named Valmai Morgan, a chaser on the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team. In all honesty, he didn't mind his pairing. A woman interested in Quidditch would probably have at least a thing or two in common with an Auror. Surely…

Some of the other pairings on the list however, had Kingsley dreading facing the public even more. A few of the pairings were downright preposterous and would no doubt result in a long and unhappy tirade of rioting complaints.

Taking a deep breath, Kingsley got to his feet and took up his list, resigning himself to the fact that he may be walking to his doom as he made for the conference hall housing every witch or wizard who was a free citizen of Britain.