"Welcome to Parental Experience. I know you all are not looking forward to this class, but Dumbledore was very enthusiastic about this. Now before I group you up I'm going to explain about this class," announced the new professor.
"You all are the sixth and seventh years of Hogwarts. This is the first time anything like this has been tried, and if it is a success, it will be done every other year. You all are going to be split into couples. You have no choice about who you are paired with. Once you all are in pairs, I will hand you a sheet of paper explaining to you about your lives. You will have jobs, taxes, problems, and, most importantly, children. Your children will be varying in age from six months to fifteen years. You will be placed in a magically simulated home and your children will be simulated as well. If you have a problem with your spouse, children, income, job, house, etcetera, I don't care. Complain to the wall. This experiment will go on for about a week. You're names are not announced in any special order. Now, lets get started. Lavender Brown of Gryffindor with Seamus Finnigan of Gryffindor, Virginia Weasley of Gryffindor with Draco Malfoy of Slytherin, Padma Patil of Ravenclaw with Ronald Weasley of Gryffindor, Dean Thomas of Gryffindor with Mandy Brocklehurst of Ravenclaw, Hermione Granger of Gryffindor with Harry Potter…"
Harry and Hermione stared blankly at each other, not hearing anything after their names were called.
"I suppose-" began Hermione.
"We're a… couple?" finished Harry.
They didn't have much time to discuss before the professor was handing out sheets of paper to the shell-shocked students. Harry accepted the paper blankly.
"Okay, lets get started," announced Hermione briskly while taking the paper from Harry, "It says we have been married for thirteen years. I am working for the Medical Magical Institute and you are working for the Defense Department of the Ministry. We have five children-"
"Five?" asked Harry in surprise, "Five? That's a lot."
"No accounting for judgment, I suppose. They are aged eleven, ten, seven, and two three-year-olds."
"We have twins?"
"That's what it says. Three boys, two girls. Matthew, the eleven-year-old, Adamson the ten-year-old, Ian, seven, and the twins, Amy and May, aged three. It is December, right before Christmas break, and Matthew will be coming home from Hogwarts soon. We're on break also. That's it."
Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley stared at each other in horrified incredulity. Ginny passed the paper to him without saying a word. He passed it back without reading.
"This is ridiculous," said Ginny crossly, "We're stuck with each other and we won't say a word."
"I'd never thought I'd say so, but I agree, Weasley."
"Truce?"
"For as short amount of time as possible."
"Okay, I'm editor of a successful magazine called Xandra and you're- wait a minute- you're an auror. We've got three kids. A fourteen-year old named Gregory, a thirteen-year old named Anastasia, and a fifteen-year-old named Lynnette. Whoa, look at our house."
Draco Malfoy looked at it and shrugged. "It's only a bit bigger than my house."
"Well you're a great rich prat who never had to worry about that sort of thing."
"Hold on, Weasley-"
Meanwhile, Ron and Padma were smiling shyly at each other. "Okay, we are successful Ministry officials with six children. In age order: Lila, Patrick, John, Henry, Melissa, and Kameron."
The teacher shouted over the chatter for them to quiet down. "On the other side of your paper you should find directions to where the door to the magically simulated homes are. Good luck!"
The groups of students went off following the directions on the back of their sheets. Harry and Hermione stopped in front of a navy blue door. Harry let go of the doorknob abruptly after he grasped it. "Name?" creaked the door.
"Er- Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."
"Name?" creaked the door again.
Harry looked at Hermione, who looked at the back of her paper. "Harry J. Potter and Hermione A. Granger-Potter."
The door opened into a prettily furnished dark red room. There was a mahogany piano in the corner, three red armchairs, several mahogany bookcases, and a lovely fireplace with a fire in it. They seemed to have come in from a closet of some sort. Harry and Hermione looked at each other, then jumped in surprise.
"Harry!"
"Hermione!"
"You look older!" They said in unison. They did in fact look over. About twenty years older. Hermione was taller and more professional and assured looking. Her dark hair was pulled into a braid and covered part of her gold necklace. She was wearing dark blue robes. She looked very pretty indeed. Harry was much, much taller, with very dark red robes. He looked fit and very handsome. A voice reverberated through their house, and the houses of all the other Hogwarts students.
"Your Parental Experience has now begun. As of now, the door you came through will not lead back to Hogwarts until one or two weeks. On the occurrence of anything dangerous or serious a teacher will interfere. Good luck."
Harry and Hermione looked at each other, still unused to seeing a grown up instead of their seventeen-year-old peer. A child's wail resounded through the house.
"Moooooommmmmmmyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!! MAKE HIM STOP!"
"He's looking at me!"
"He hit me!"
"DADDY! I'M HUNGRY!"
"Where's my broom?"
"I want a cookie!"
"DADDY!!! GIMME A SANDWICH!!"
"MOMMY! HE'S HURTING ME!"
The two student- turned- parent persons ran in search of the voices. Hermione entered a brightly colored room with many magical toys and happy pictures. Two small children stood in the middle of the room. Two little girls with golden-brown hair stood in the middle of the room. They were identical from their long dark eyelashes to their small toes covered in shiny black Mary Jane's. Hermione smiled in spite of their wails. They were adorable. Hermione knelt next to them and gathered the two toddlers in her arms. She stood up as their screams subsided.
Harry found the boys in the kitchen. The biggest, Adamson, he remembered, was digging through the pantry, which was filled with cartons that said things like: Stew in minutes! It's magic! And Easy Bake Kiddy Treats: Wave your wand and it's done!
"Adam, what are you looking for?"
"Mffglan."
"What?"
"Mabroom."
"I see."
Adamson backed out of the pantry. Harry almost fell over when he saw that Adamson looked just like him. He was ten years old, Harry remembered, and the oldest was eleven. He was at school. He looked over to the other side of the room where another little boy, Ian, stood looking imploringly at Harry.
"Daddy, I'm hungry!"
Harry looked around the kitchen. He had no idea what to do. He decided to make Ian a sandwich. That couldn't be too hard. Meanwhile, the twins had become very riotous. The two little girls were in a heated battle, tugging at each other's long curls and screaming at the top of their lungs.
"Amy! May! No, May! Amy! Oh, forget it! Guys, calm down!" said Hermione franticly. She attempted to pull the girls apart. Several toys flew off the shelves and headed forbiddingly toward Hermione and the twins. "That is it!" said Hermione angrily as she pulled out her wand. "Mavlasa rigorendo!" she shouted. The little girls were floating in the air, unable to get to each other. They were enclosed separate bubbles of air. Their moods had changed suddenly. Amy and May seemed to be delighted to be airborne.
Earlier, Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley walked in uncomfortable silence to their entrance. It was a big oak door, very imposing and old. "Name?" asked the door imperiously. Draco looked at the sheet. "Draco L. Malfoy and Virginia W. Malfoy. That's a really nice name, Virginia. Virginia Malfoy. Possibilities."
"Shut up, Malfoy."
"Oh, I'm hurt. You remember, we're married. For the next few weeks, I'm Draco and you're Ginny."
They heard the same message Harry and Hermione heard. A piercing voice rang through the huge house. Ginny and Draco stood in a huge ballroom with elaborate paintings and fussy furniture.
"Mooootheeer! Annie's in my roooomm!!!" came the whiny male voice.
"Shut up, soup-for-brains!"
"Moooootheeeer! She's mussing my stuff!!!"
"Shut up!"
Ginny glanced heavenward and followed the noise. She walked up a grand staircase and passed a mirror that reached the ceiling, which was very, very high. She stopped and went back to the mirror. She gasped at what she saw. A tall, beautiful witch stared back at her. The woman's long copper hair hung in tendrils round her face and extended down to her waist. She wore a dress of champagne colored satin that flowed smoothly to her feet. She rushed back to where Draco was still standing, looking around in a way of one who has been dropped out of the sky into a fascinating foreign country. He looked different too. His silver hair curled down to the collar of his charcoal colored sweater. He looked about twenty-one or so, but Ginny knew that he must be older here. Draco looked imposing, strikingly handsome and very rich. He slowly turned his grey eyes toward Ginny. They walked slowly toward each other. Draco put out his hand, and Ginny took it. They stared at each other appreciatively.
"Mum! Dad!" came a revolted voice from the stairs, "That's like the fifth time I've seen you about to snog or something in the last two days!"
They let go of each other's hands abruptly and turned to face the stairs. A cute, athletic girl of about thirteen with a pixie cut of strawberry blond hair and a very nice looking broomstick in her hand stared at them disapprovingly.
"I'm telling you, if you want to express emotion that I do not want to see between my parents, go somewhere were I can't find you."
Draco looked at Ginny and Ginny looked back. "Which one's this?" he murmured in her ear. "I think its Anastasia," she whispered back.
Anastasia rolled her eyes and walked with long lithe strides across the room. Clicking heels were heard coming from a room adjoining to that one.
"Anastasia! Did you like steal my favorite shoes? I need those for the photo shoot!" A tall fifteen-year-old with very pale skin and blond hair to mid back flounced into the room. "Omigod! Are you going to play Quidditch with that? You know that's Greg's broom, hon."
"Greg's a swotty little weed who can't fly for his life," snapped Annie.
"And you need to practice for that play you're doing!"
"I've memorized my lines."
"Darling, I've told you again and again, if you want to go pro, like me, you need to let me help you."
"God, Lynn! I just want to play Quidditch!"
"And your voice will be hoarse. You can't sing with a hoarse voice, sweetie. I should know!"
Lynnette's sister threw up her arms and glared at Lynn. "I - am going - to play – Quid-ditch. Sod - off," she said slowly, as if talking to a very dim toddler.
Annie strode out of the room in a self-assured and conceited way that reminded Ginny strongly of Draco. Lynnette followed still prattling on about how she couldn't do this or that because she might ruin her voice or her looks or she might hurt herself and not be able to do the play.
A tall gangling boy of fourteen came stumbling down the stairs. His pinkish skin turned redder and contrasted greatly with his fair hair.
"Father! Annie took my broom without asking!"
Annie flew into the room on the exceptional broomstick. Ginny and Draco could tell that she had the makings of a great flyer.
"I didn't take it so much as I borrowed it! Honestly, Mum, Dad, Greg doesn't use his broom! It's getting wasted!"
"Anastasia, what have I told you about flying in the house?" admonished Ginny, imitating her mother.
"Don't. But I don't care. His poor broom is getting desecrated, belonging to such a spineless, timid, gangling dim-wit!"
Draco leaned over to Ginny, "A girl after my own heart."
"What heart?" she hissed back.
"Good point," he grinned.
"Mother! Father! Aren't you going to make her stop?" whined Greg.
"Make me stop what? Keeping your broom from going to waste? Or endangering your life by making you squeak louder than usual?"
Draco looked from the puny boy with a sour expression to the agile girl with a smirk identical to his own. He smiled wickedly. "Er- Right. Gin?"
Ginny looked overwhelmed by this flood of responsibility. She ran from the room, heels clicking frantically against the marble floor. Draco looked concerned, then taken aback at his own bother. "Must be something in this air," he muttered to himself, "Right, Annie, take the broom. I'll buy you a new one, Greg." Draco hurried after Ginny to find her curled up on a window seat, looking very sad.
"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked gruffly.
"Everything," she said, trailing off a bit. Draco sat down next to her.
Ginny sniffled and Draco looked distressed. "C'mon, don't cry! Seriously, don't. Weasley! Oh, right, Ginny! Stop! Must be something in the air- don't cry!" He slid his arms around her. She faced him and buried her face in his shoulder. "It's to much," she sniffed, "I'm not ready, this is hard and I'm here with you and you're being so awful and our son is a whingy brat and our older daughter is prissy and our younger one is just like you and she's just as nasty and you're just like that and you're being all nice and you won't be like that again and I…" she trailed off, quieting.
Meanwhile, in the Potter household…