Conception in the Feminine.
"HERMIONE JANE GRANGER", The name was stenciled on pretty blue paper in the firm strong strokes of a 5 year old. Underneath her father had added "Eloquence" in a calligraphy pen, and framed it, placing it on her bedroom door.
Eloquence had manifested when she was three years old. She had objected to the actions of an older boy in nursery school, easily wrapping her tongue around his name she had loudly denounced him at every opportunity "Dudley Bully!" until his parents had placed him elsewhere. Later the teacher had confided in Sylvia Granger, "She was telling the truth, I couldn't very well scold her for that. Besides I'm pleased to see the nasty boy gone"
The blue paper too had been an issue, Hermione had been handed out pink paper, like all the other girls, but when the task was done, she had done it on blue paper. Her teacher had tried to discover which of the boys she had swapped with, but all of the boys had their own blue paper. Her attempts to get Hermione to redo the task on pink paper had been met with flat refusal. Why? She had done on pretty blue paper for Daddy, and she had spelt her name right, (and many of the other children hadn't).
Sylvia had a scrapbook of those years, the pictures she drawn, the lists she had made, always neatly labeled, with her name on the top. Of her likes, her dislikes, what she wanted for Christmas, and her birthday.
The one letter to Santa had reduced Sylvia to tears, she had asked Santa for a brother, so that she could look after him, and help him with his homework. He could even have daddy's study for a bedroom, because Daddy didn't really study in there anyway.
She had demanded that they paint her room blue, not just any blue, but the grey-blue of a stormy sky.. They had tried to buy her posters of all the things that little girls like, but she had mostly declined. Though she had accepted the ones of the unicorns, and strangely enough a dragon. They had tried dolphins, but she really wasn't interested.
They had been worries about her social skills. Not her vocabulary, she was first in her class in English, and spoke freely with adults, but she seemed unable to make friends in her own peer group.
Sylvia smiled, that had changed once she attended Hogwarts.
Her very first letters had spoken of Ron and Harry. Harry was an orphan, she had said, but Ron had five brothers and a baby sister! The number seemed to astound her.
They had explained to her of course that she couldn't have a brother, that mummy had been told that she couldn't have any more children by the doctors.
When she and Dennis had purchased this four-bedroom home, it had been their intention to fill it with children, but conception had been difficult. Fertility treatments had been expensive & painful, The hormones had run roughshod over own body's natural rhythms, the regimes had affected Dennis too, and children had begun to feel like distant dream.
They had chucked it all in, it had been that or their marriage, and made plans to sell the house.
In an effort to rekindle their old passion had decided to take a weekend in the country.
They had taken 'Her' car, the Mini Cooper; it was in fact Dennis's toy, since they didn't really need a second car, as Sylvia caught the tube to work. Dennis liked to imagine himself a Rally driver at Monte Carlo, or as one of Michael Caine's Henchmen from the Italian Job. He even made little whooshing sounds as he threw the little car around the country bends, and Sylvia had laughed gaily at her husband, her lover.
It was a success; they had stayed at a small country inn, played bridge with another couple until late, and made love in the early morning. The weather turned foul on Sunday, and they had decided to leave early lest they get lost.
On the way home they had stopped to give someone a lift, a woman. She was dressed quite oddly, they had assumed that she was an actor in one of the local pageants or fairs.
Sylvia had moved into the back seat, and woman climbed in slipping back her hood to reveal a mop of red hair.
"Thanks very much" she said, "It's these old Cleansweeps," she gestured to the battered looking broom in her hand, "can't stand the rain"
They all laughed, thinking she was referring to her role in the pageant, and possibly to the reputation of Mini's to fail in the wet.
She had given Dennis directions to the nearby village of Ottery St. Catchpole, claiming that her husband was to meet her there.
Dennis had concentrated on the driving, while the ladies chatted. She told them that her name was Molly, and that she had run away today in order to escape the twins, who were teething. Molly as it turned out. Had five children, and seemed genuinely heartsore when Sylvia confessed her own inability to conceive.
When they arrived at the village, Molly had shaken Dennis's hand, "Thanks for saving me from drowning", she had then hugged Sylvia slipping a small silver charm into her hand, "Fertility amulet", she whispered, "I don't really need it".
Sylvia examined the charm as the made their way back to the main road, It was a beautifully engraved picture of a little girl; along the border of the charmthere was writing Latin. "Conception in the Feminine" she translated loosely.
"Put it on," said Dennis, and so she had.
Twenty minutes later he had taken her. He had driven the little Mini roughshod off the road, parking it under an old oak tree. They had pushed the front seats of the Mini up, and he made love to her on the back bench. Ardently, vigorously, as if their lives, as if the world had depended on it.
He had pulled over again, as they neared London, they had almost been caught, when the police stopped and asked them if they had broken down.
That night too, at home he had seemed tireless, until eventually she had asked him stop from sheer exhaustion.
Six weeks later her doctor had pronounced her pregnant.
Dennis always maintained that Hermione was conceived in a country inn, but he never sold the Mini, he maintained it, polished it, rarely drove it, and told everyone it was Hermione's. A charm hanging from the rearview mirror and an old Cleansweep broom in the boot.