-1Disclaimer: I own not the fiction known as Harry Potter.

Hermione Granger and the Muggle-born Marriage Law of doom.

Minister Fudge notorious death eater sympathiser/fucking incompetent fool/little bit from column A little bit from column B sighed. He should really stop working so late he thought glumly as the clock struck 3:30pm when there came a knocking at his door.

"Who's there?" Asked the DES/FIF/LBFCALBFCB

"Err…Mandy, your secretary."

"Oh…yeah. What do you want?"

"Your 3:30 Meeting with Lord Voldemort/Anonymous Ministry Suit/Lord Voldemort Accompanying The Anonymous Ministry Suit."

"Right, I thought was meant to be a sympathiser/incompetent fool? It's a bit hard to be just a sympathiser when you're arranging meetings with him."

"Yeah, but nobody cares what you think."

"Ah, jolly good. Send whoever is coming in. In I suppose."

In entered Lord Voldemort/The Scariest Wizard in History/Lord Voldemort Accompanying The Scariest Wizard in History.

Fudge fudged around for a bit. Get it? Fudge is a bit of a fudger? So funny. Shuffling his notes he read the topic. "Muggle-born Marriage Law? What kind of fucked up shit is this?"

Various wizards possibly in the room cleared various throats.

Fudge was a little to slow this morning, "Isn't this just another attempt to give some rather sad and lonely 30/40 something's another crack at the teen market? Or was that 'Friends'?"

The clearing of throats became more insistent.

"Cough sweet?" Offered the sweetly innocent minister of magic/oblivious fool I hate him so much Garr.

"Thanks." Replied LV/AMS/LVAAMS

"Since you are here I take it you have some reasons for wanting this steaming pile of crud passed."

"First Hermione Granger then Harry Potter then the World Muahahahahahaha/Some shit about declining pureblood births squibs and other such bullshit/controlling mudbloods plus some shit about declining births."

Nobody cares because they're skipping ahead to the inter-generational sex anyway. Most probably between Snape and Hermione, the sick sick perverts.

"Got any money?"


"Consider it done."

Serverus Snape Hogwarts resident tosspot swept through the corridors like an overgrown bat. An overgrown bat with an extreme problem with grease. Now at this point we are meant to feel sorry for Snape because of some deep childhood or trauma or pity him for being that much of crotch stain. He's a deeply flawed genius who hides his real emotions behind a snarky exterior. Honest. Snape pondered the about to be passed law as he swept. In fact he'd probably be a much better sweeper than a teacher, then again a chimp would probably be a better teacher.

I'm going to get me so sweet teen ass, he thought. In other fics he probably has some different reaction to this. Something suitably tragic or deep or whatever, but that's what he's really thinking. Barely legal teens, the filthy old man.

Without grace or ceremony he slams through the door into the meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, pausing to sneer at Potty and Weasel before leering at Hermione causing her to turn a delicate shade of green. Albus smiled at his protégé, already imagining his kick ass visual of the Head Girls bed chambers, sweet. It's just a shame Miss Granger wouldn't be head girl till next year.

Yeah, that's right fuckwads, she's of age in her 6th year. Missing out a whole year of action you fucking pervs. Ahem.

Drawing his imagination away from NC-17 Granger/Snape action his eye's twinkled as he addressed the gathering. Affecting an air of solemnity he began. "Unfortunately 'yeah right' the Minister of Magic has seen fit to blah blah blah. All muggle-born witches of note must marry a Pureblood suitor of 30 to 50 years old within the next month and conceive within the next year or something really nasty will happen."

"Err…" Interrupted Remus Lupin, one of the only likeable members of the order. "What about Muggle-born wizards?"

Snape shrugged. "What about them? I don't want to fuck them."

"HA!" Yelled Harry Triumphantly. "You're a fucking Half Blood so you have no chance of fucking Hermione!!!!! In your face! How do you like them apples? Huh?"

Now all the Marriage Law Snape/Granger ficcers die of embarrassment to spend the rest of their sad pitiful lives shipping crossover Willow/Snape despite the fact she's a Lesbian. A FUCKING LESBIAN YOU IDIOTS. Ahem. Willow/Hermione rules.

"So," began Hermione as the more retarded members smacked their heads on the table. "There is to be a marriage law in which all muggle-born witches of note."

"So just you then." Harry replied sardonically.

"Are to be forced to marry a pureblood bachelor of 30 to 50 years of age in order to single handed repopulate the entire wizarding world." Ignoring Harry

"It's probably going to be the character the author secretly lusts after." Added Harry helpfully.

"Is it me, or is this completely stupid?" Finished a slightly bemused, yet slightly worried Hermione.

"Just you granger." Sneered Snape having found no way short of Rape to get into Grangers pants and giving up common decency as a bad job. Unless he could travel back in time, rape her mother. Then come back and she wouldn't be a muggle-born…and they'd be related too. Of course.

Just then, with the subtly of a brick through a window Mrs Weasley. "Hermione can't get married to some dirty old man. She was made for Ronald."

Cries of. "Isn't Bill 30 yet?" "There's no way I'm letting that red haired fool anywhere near me naked." "Muuuum!" shouted her down.

"Anyway." snarked Snape. "What are you doing at this meeting anyway. You're fucking useless."

Everyone privately cheered him, but didn't want to give him any encouragement. He was bad enough with no friends.

Albus sighed momentarily, then he brightened. If he gave Remus his old DADA job back. Then he could still get to use his sweet 'security' cameras covering every inch of the head girls chambers. "Well, we are going to have to find a solution here, or she will end up marrying Lucius Malfoy."

Cries of "Isn't he married." and "What's so wrong with that?"

"I was only joking." grumped a blushing Hermione.

Draco, having just been inducted so he could now throw up all other Snape having heard his worst enemy contemplate sleeping with his hated father did just that. Threw up other Snape. What a thing to happen on your first day.

"So," Harry stated, "We need to find a suitable pureblood between the age of 30 to 50 or something nasty will happen to Hermione plus the Wizarding world will die out or some shit."

Kingsley Shacklebolt noted a few furtive glances at Remus Lupin. "I'm a pureblood wizard between 30 and 50 in the Order." He stated mildly.

Hermione's gaze became dreamy and drool pooled at the side of her mouth.

"Sorry, no interracial." Stated Dumbledore flatly.

"But he's a fucking werewolf." His calm slipping a bit.

"At least he's the right fucking colour." Yep, you guessed it. Snape. The fucking racist.

Hermione was to busy imagining Kingsley naked to intervene.

"WTF?!" Snarled Harry. "I've overlooked the casual misogynistic, homophobic, prejudiced world that ignores slavery of sentient creatures so I can be the hero of the fucking story, but no one and I repeat no one is allowed to be racist in this fic. Except black people."

"Thanks Harry." smirked Kingsley before the last 3 words hit him. His brow crinkled, "What?"

Remus meanwhile had been busy. "Err…clause 2d No Werewolves. Sorry."

Hermione smiled at him. Sleeping with her ex professor would just be creepy. "Thanks professor."

"It's Remus."




Dumbledore frowned. "Hey! You just added that."

Remus merely smirked.

Dumbledore sighed dramatically. "Where am I going to find a suitable pureblood wizard of 30 to 50 to entertain me by fucking Hermione in her room?"

Suddenly a deep masculine voice entered the Room. "I'm a 30 to 50 year old pureblood wizard." He smiled winningly. "How can I help you?" He winked flirtatiously at Hermione who blushed crimson.

James Potter.

Snape swore.

Harry Fainted.