HerMany Loves

HerMany Loves,
An Alternate Universe Parody

Hermione rolled out of bed around four am. One of her children was crying, and she had to get a warm bottle for him. She padded barefoot through the kitchen, scattering the roaches, and got down the jar of powdered formula. It was a new brand, and she wasn’t quite sure how much formula to water she needed to use. She tried to read the directions, but realized she couldn’t read. She just filled the bottle with Pepsi and headed back upstairs.

She had been going to that dad-blasted school for over six years now, and all she had to show for it was six kids, and an addiction to interesting men. She trudged back up the stairs to the crying baby and picked him up. It was Ronnie Jr. Her third child, and he was five. He was a red head, like his dad. Ron Sr. was somewhere off with his friends and brothers, hunting possum. He sometimes stayed gone for weeks at a time, and she only saw him at school.

She cracked open a cold one for herself, and set down to watch Home Shopping Network. The phone rang. It was four-thirty am.

“Hello, Miss Granger? This is Amy. Um… I won’t be able to baby-sit today, my… um… Dad is sick, yeah. And. Oh Jason, STOP it! Tee hee!”

Hermione put the phone back on the receiver and cussed. How in the hell was she supposed to keep her “date” at Hogwarts if she couldn’t find a babysitter? She cussed again and lit a Marlboro, accidentally spilling her beer. She cussed again.

Well now, she thought to herself, if I am going to make my date I have to take the kids with me! So she started waking them up, one by one.

First she woke her twins, Albie and Argie, whose fathers were Albus Dumbledore and Argus Filch. She called her six-year old twins her “Necessary” boys, because it was necessary for her to “spend time” with the headmaster and the Janitor, to help pay her tuition. Which man fathered which, she didn’t know.

She let Ronnie Junior, 5, sleep in the crib with his Pepsi and went to wake up her fourth child, Remmie. Remmie was the son of Remus Lupin, who had been her teacher in the third year. She always had a “Thing” for teachers, and had started taking special “lessons” from him in the middle of the year. The fact Professor Lupin was a werewolf bas a BIG turn-on, but she was worried about little Remmie getting teased for his wolf ears and hirsute face. She may have to teach him to shave before Kindergarten.

With Albie and Argie dressed and diapered (yes I know they are six, but this is an unusual story) she plucked her fifth born out of the bureau drawer. He was rather small, yet tall, his hair was messy, yet greasy, he sometimes panted like a dog, and he had one black eye and one brilliant emerald poison seductive green one. She had the child exactly nine months after meeting Professor Snape in the potions closet for a private lesson. What Severus Snape did not know, is she had “met” Harry Potter in the same closet earlier that day, and Sirius Black later on by Hagrid’s hut. Sirius was Padfoot at the time, and they did it… you guessed it… doggy style. (Okay that’s it for the suggestive puns!)

Hermione wasn’t sure who had fathered this rather unfortunate looking boy, so she named him Harseverius, Just to be safe.

Her youngest child was conceived as a result of a truth-or-dare, and it was Hermione’s turn. Ginny Weasley said, in her stereotypically cat-like voice, “I DARE you to do Neville Longbottom.” Hermione never backed down from a good dare, so she agreed, temporarily forgetting she had promised to meet Draco Malfoy in the potions closet around five.

Hermione decided she couldn’t NOT do her dare. What would that do to her school reputation? So she took Neville with her to the potions closet, putting an “Orgia Vicis” spell on him. The two Gryffindors and one Slytherin frolicked in Snapes’ closet until Draco got tired and left, mumbling something sibilantly about getting his beauty sleep.

The resulting child had white blonde hair, a round face, and two buck teeth. Determining who the father was seemed impossible, so she named the child Dra-ville. (Spoken with a southern United States dialect, the name is actually quite pleasant sounding.)

After waking Ron Jr., she packed the kids up on her Super-Extended-Windstar-2002 and flew off to Hogwarts. Albie and Argie were on the end of the broom, by the bristles. Next on the line was Harseverius and Dra-ville, who had to have baby wizard broom seats. Remmie was in front of them, since he had a tail and could help hold the little ones on. Ron Jr. clung to his mother, still clutching his bottle of warm Pepsi.

Hermione arrived at the Hogwarts grounds several minutes later and landed the bulky broom with a thud. Little Dra-ville, being the smallest of the clan, flew out of his broom seat and landed in the Whomping Willow, where he was flung about like a paddleball. Finally the tree released the squealing blond child and hurtled him toward the ground. He was falling straight at Ronnie Jr., but he was too busy with his Pepsi to help. Remmie, having the quick reflexes and keen eye of his father, leapt up and heroically caught Dra-ville. “REMMIE, DON’T CHEW THE BABY!!” Hermione screamed at the hirsute child, who was so startled he dropped his brother and cowered back on the broom.

With her children following behind her like ducks, even the ones that couldn’t walk yet, she opened the doors to the entrance hall. Gasps and “OOoohhhs” of surprise were heard echoing through the large foyer. She could hear the excited whispers of her fellow Hogwartsians, as she led her six children up the marble steps to the first floor.

She almost ran into Harry and Ron, who avoided eye contact with her. Ron Jr. Hurled his now empty bottle at his father’s head, just to make a point. Harry was searching the crowd of children for one that might possibly be his. He didn’t see one with a scar on its forehead, so he didn’t worry about it. Harry wasn’t the brightest brick in the butter at times.

Finally summoning courage to speak, Ron said, with a mouthful of chicken, “Gol dang, Hermione, you’ve been busy!”

Harry looked at Ron. “Why are you using a southern sentence modifier? We’re British!”

Blushing in the way only a red head can, Ron corrected himself. “Well crikey, mate, you done went and did every bloke at Hogwarts except Dobby!”

“AND Voldemort.” Harry retorted, inwardly cringing at Ron’s mixed-up dialect.

Hermione defended herself, saying in one breath; “Well It’s not MY fault they hired handsome British actors to play the role of characters that I would never in a million years want to shag, if they appeared the way the author originally described them!…”

Draco appeared out of nowhere and said in a sibilant voice, “Yeah, Alan Rickman is H. O. T.!” He licked the tip of his finger and pressed it to his hip, making a hisssssss. He turned and left, his robes swishing beautifully.

Hermione touched her stomach. She felt the baby kick. She had already made a list of names, in case the parenting was hard to determine. Dobbermort if it was a boy, Voldebby if it was a girl. And she was looking forward to her date with Hagrid in early September, after the baby was born.