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Beauty and the Bat Part deux

Hermione stuck her head through the portrait hole into the Common Room.

"Harry, Ronald, I need to speak with you."

"What did you do this time, you arse?" Harry 'whispered' to Ron. Hermione rolled her eyes. Do all young males assume a correlation between having breasts and being deaf, dumb in the worst sense, and blind? "He didn't do anything Harry. Neither did you. Talk, NOW!"

They obediently left the chessboard, followed her out, down the steps, through the castle, outside to a spot by the Lake where Hermione erected the strongest silencing, warding, and distraction spells she knew.

"Give over, Hermione, we always know when we are in trouble, even if we never know why."

She took a deep breath and said, "As I said Ron, neither of you have done anything wrong. That is exactly how things shall remain."

"Huh?" 'whispered' Harry to Ron.

Ron shrugged and started winding his finger at his temple.

"I'm not mental yet, Ron! I'm not blind and deaf, either! I'm just letting you both know that today is not the day to play silly buggers."

"Oh!" Ron said, then 'whispered,' "Harry, she's on the rag!"

"Huh?"

Thanks Ron, that could help, Hermione thought. "Very good, Ron. Yes, I'm menstruating. I'm bloated, irritable, crampy-"

"Oh!" said Harry who was blushing furiously and studying the tops of his shoes.

"Ew! Hermione, just stop it!" said Ron, who was looking wary and a bit green and queasy.

Now, she had her audience! "Today, I accidentally caused a Potions disaster after class."

"Are you all right?" said Harry, who was at least looking at her again.

"I'm fine. Professor Snape was most affected."

"Is he a goner?"

"No Ronald, he's pregnant."

"That can really happen?" Ron asked.

"Snape's gay?" asked Harry looking quite possibly a bit hopeful.

"He's pregnant with my child, Harry, because of the Potion's accident. Our genetic material merged magically and impregnated him."

"So you're the- the father of Snape's baby?" Ron burst out laughing.

Hermione said, "Tampons and pads, Ronald, lining of the uterus."

Ron stopped laughing abruptly and hung his head low.

"This is our child, you are laughing about, Professor Snape's and MINE. The foetus is experiencing accelerated growth. It's a very dangerous situation for him and for our baby, too. He expects to go into labor and birth our child tonight if all goes well."

"What are you going to do, Hermione?" asked Harry gently.

"I'm going to marry him tonight. I expect both of you to be the kind of friends I know you both can be. I expect you to support my decision and honor my family as a part of me. Yes, Ronald, that means honoring Snape too."

Harry nodded, smiled, and looked much older than he should.

"Sorry I made fun, Hermione. I know better than that. You know how I can be a right berk," said Ron.

"I know it's an odd situation, Ron. I know you didn't mean to make fun of my child."

"At least agree with him, Hermione. Ronald here really can be a right berk," said Harry grinning.

Ron grinned too and elbowed Harry in the ribs.

Well that wasn't as bad as she'd been expecting. "I don't know what I'd do without either of you berks. Of course, I never know what to do with you, either."

"Certainly can't take us out in public." Ron tossed out. "No wonder we alway end up all alone out here by the lake under a notice-me-not spell.."

Half an hour before her wedding, Hermione realized that she had nothing at all that was appropriate for a bride to wear, nothing even close. She went to Myrtle's loo so she could at least avoid a curious living audience. At first Hermione thought that by some miracle, Myrtle was elsewhere.

"WHOOOO'S THERE? WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE! Oh, it's just you. What's your name again?"

"Hermione, Myrtle."

"And I always thought that being called Myrtle was terrible! Did you bring any cute boys this time, hmm?" Myrtle bobbed up and down to look over the door of every stall.

"Not this time. You know how boys get when you're trying to figure out what to wear." She lengthened the skirt of her school uniform and changed the color to black, since she had no illusions about what Snape would be wearing.

"Not really, no. You never bring cute boys! You just want to keep all the CUTE boys for yourself!"

"I'll bring Harry and Ron next time."

"Ooooo! I like the name Harry! Heek! Is Harry cute?"

"Yes Myrtle, Harry is very cute." Hermione made her white cotton school shirt more feminine looking and lacy but opaque enough so that no one could see her institutional bra through it.

"I don't believe you! Maybe I'd like Ron better! What do you think about that? Is Ron the cute one?"

"They're both very cute. You can take your pick." She decided she couldn't possibly be bothered to transfigure her mary janes and socks since her skirt now covered them.

"Two boys? Why do you want to get rid of two boys?"

"I don't want to get rid of anyone. They're both my friends. That's all, though."

Hermione Charmed her hair up.

"So you don't even have a boyfriend?"

Her hair didn't quite turn out as she had hoped. She now wore two huge doughnuts over her ears reminiscent of Princess Leia. She'd have to put some work into perfecting that spell. She still figured Snape might view the doughnuts as an improvement over having it down. "No. I don't."

"Is that why you're getting all dressed up? So you can go catch one?"

"No, I'm getting married tonight."

"So you lied to me then! Liar! Pants on fire! Poke your eyes with chicken wire! I don't like little girls who tell big, fat lies!"

"I'm getting married to Professor Snape."

"Oh Gods! That's awful! Why?" Myrtle suddenly got a lot less screechy and flew down to perch on the sink next to her.

"Because we're having a baby together."

"Wow. What a drag. At least your belly's not big yet."

"No, not yet. Would you like to come to my wedding Myrtle? It's in the Room of Requirement. There will be boys there."

"No! Too much magic in there for me. It makes my ectoplasm crawl." Myrtle seemed to shiver and fade out a bit for a second. "Will you really bring some boys I can meet in here, though?"

"Sure. I'll do that."

"You're not just saying that, are you?"

"I'll try to bring them next time I come."

"Swell!" Myrtle launched herself off the sink and started flying around the lavatory again. "Oh and hey, good luck with, you know." Myrtle held her hands out in front of her own stomach.

"Thanks, Myrtle."

"Hell-meenie?"

"Hermione."

Whatever. One little mistake doesn't have to mean that your life's over, you know. Unless it kills you! Ooo! If you die in childbirth we could become roomies!"

"Sounds like fun, Myrtle. See you soon."

"Bring those boys next time!"

"Will do."

"They had better be cute too, or you'll be sorry!"

She felt odd walking alone to her own wedding, like she was physically walking into the new adult chapter of her life. She decided that she rather liked the feeling.

The hall near the Room of Requirement, which was indicated by a small map on her invitation, was packed. She could just make out the Headmaster's head over and through the crowd. "Is Miss Granger here?" Dumbledore asked.

"I'm here, Headmaster."

The crowd parted and a sea of dumbstruck young faces stared as she made her way though.

"Nervous, Miss Granger?"

Was she? Not nearly as worked up as she got just before a test. "A bit, sir."

"That is to be expected, I'm told."

"Sir, are my parents already inside?"

"Oh dear Miss Granger, I am so terribly sorry! I knew that I was forgetting to invite someone. It seems I should have sent out one more invitation!"

"It's all right, sir. It's probably for the best. This way, I can break it to them after the fact."

"I believe that it is traditional to have a parent to walk the bride down the aisle in a Muggleborn ceremony?"

"Well, yes, usually it is."

"I would be honored to escort you? If you think that I will do in a pinch?"

Hermione stared at the lemon drop hanging from his beard and felt very calm and certain of herself suddenly. "Thank you for the kind offer Headmaster, but being given away would feel too much like being a piece of property. I'd rather be alone when I join Professor Snape."

Dumbledore twinkled at her. "I believe that decision demonstrates a great deal of good sense and personal fortitude, Miss Granger." He waved his hand. The door opened.

The Room of Requirement was the currently the most horrible place to get married that she could ever have imagined even in the worst of her nightmares. It was hard to look at anything without trying to blink out the sheer garishness. The decor reminded her of every interior she had ever seen in a photo of Graceland, all stirred together. Every surface was decked with every color and kind of plastic flower, intermingled with multi-colored paper streamers, paper fold out wedding bells, valentine hearts, even some Muggle Halloween and Easter decorations, and unlit Christmas lights, all surrounding something that looked like a huge Jesus shaped blow up doll mounted to a cross in the middle where Snape now stood, thoroughly amused, looking for all the world like he was the only other person in the room who got this joke. They shared a look.

She started to walk toward him. Suddenly an invisible organ started honking out a butchered version of the Wedding March, yet another honk with every step she took. It was like walking on an invisible whoopie cushion. That was when she started to laugh. Then she heard McGonagall's unmistakable "Oh dear!" The professor rushed to her from the front pew. "I believe these are traditional for a Muggle bride to hold?" McGonagall handed her a bouquet of blue daisies, pink gladiolas, and big orange sunflowers, all made from geniune plastic.

"Oh. Thank you."

Five more honking steps brought her even with Snape who held out his hand. She took it.

Dumbledore droned on for a while. For once in her life Hermione paid no attention at all to the lecturing Professor. She had the oddest feeling that she and Snape were the only two real persons in the room, to have and to hold, till death us do part. Everyone and everything else seemed as ephemeral and fleeting as a dream and as artificial as the landscape and the bouquet she now held. At one point in the ceremony Snape placed a glass down and stomped it to bits.

"You're Jewish?"

"I am an Atheist. I just felt like breaking something."

"Me too. Both counts." He gallantly conjured her another glass of which her slightly scuffed Mary Jane made short work.

"Feeling better?"

"Maybe a bit."

At last, Albus told Snape he may kiss his bride. That was when Snape got a very strange look on his face, dropped her hand, bowed slightly to her and said, "Excuse me."

That definitely wasn't traditional.

Part of the petro-chemical jungle disappeared and a lavatory door replaced it. Snape disappeared behind that door. Hermione looked around and realized every single pair of eyes was riveted to a lavatory door during her wedding ceremony. She shifted from one foot to the other. She tried to catch Ron's or Harry's eyes to no avail. Then came the muffled sound of a toilet flushing followed a few seconds later, by the sound of running water. The water ran and ran, and ran some more, and ran for a longer time.

A very long time.

When Snape finally emerged, he was in trousers and shirtsleeves, holding a wriggling bundle swaddled in his dress robes. He rejoined her at the alter. The babe in his arms was without exception the ugliest that Hermione, and, she assumed, anyone else in the room had ever laid eyes on. His head was disproportionately huge compared to the long, thin, shriveled rest of him. He had Snape's nose jutting out awkwardly from his tiny scrunched up face. Patternless bald patches were interspersed with longish tufts of black hair that somehow managed to seem both greasy and tremendously frizzy at the very same time. He had her own square inelegant hands and her short chubby fingers. He wore what could only be called a naturally misanthropic scowl. Well, at least he was an ugly little boy.

"We have a daughter," Snape announced softly.

A good thirty seconds of complete silence reigned. Hermione looked up from the world's ugliest baby to Snape. Neither Snape nor Hermione could quite manage to appear anything but glazed over and a bit traumatized.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked anyway.

Snape snorted a snort which clearly meant, 'Are you out of you mind or why else ask such an idiotic question?'

"Okay," Hermione stated to no one in particular,"we are all done here." She handed her plastic bouquet to Dumbledore.

"Would you like to hold her before a house-elf appears to whisk her away?"

Hermione try as she might couldn't think of a good enough excuse not to, so she held her arms out. Snape passed the baby slowly and carefully, making certain that her ginormous head was properly supported throughout the process.

Hmm, so you are a girl, then? Hermione thought, standing there awkwardly, trying to calculate the odds of the poor kid getting all the worst physical features from both parents. Hermione had never been so happy to see an enslaved house-elf in her entire life. She carefully handed baby Snape off to the little creature who looked thoroughly delighted to take her. Then Snape took Hermione by the hand and lead her out of the crowded and nearly silent room and took a short-cut she'd never found down to the dungeons. When they entered the dungeons and were out of the earshot of any castle portrait Snape broke the silence. "Our daughter is hideous."

Hermione smiled, feeling more than a little relieved that they shared this opinion. "I think they all start out that way at first."

"No, they do not. Draco Malfoy was truly beautiful from his first breathe. But you are correct, even the most hideous ones generally do improve with age. I am afraid that I was a notable exception to that rule."

"Never too late to start!"

"Five points to Gryffindor."

"To Gryffindor? For what? Insulting my professor?"

"For being brave and foolish enough to marry me, you silly girl." He gave her hand what he gauged to be a comforting squeeze.

"Ouch!"

"My apologies."

"It's fine." Hermione said shaking out her hand. "It wasn't just for you, you know. I was promised more Potions essays, too."

"Think of what you could have had with Lockhart."

"The Headmaster told you about that?!"

"If it is any consolation, a twelve year old school girl would not have been my first choice, either."

"I'd say that speaks well of you."

They were now standing in front of Snape's door, or so she assumed. He turned to her then and stared down at her gravely. Did he not want her to overhear his password? She was just about to take a stroll down the corridor when he finally spoke. "Miss Granger, I will not hold you to this travesty of a marriage. I insisted on a traditional Muggle marriage, or such as three mad Pureblood professors could hope to provide, so that we may follow it up with the traditional Muggle divorce. Dumbledore is a manipulative old whoopsy." The door swung open.

"That was your password!?"

"Best to choose something that is worth remembering."

Once his door was shut, the difference in Snape was astounding. The man seemed to wilt. He limped his last few steps to the bed and lowered himself gingerly onto it in a prone position. Hermione had the feeling that to do anything other than to ignore his sorry state only would make things worse for him. Instead, she twisted her ring around again and again. Ring? When had that happened? She looked at it. Plain, silver, thin, and cheap. She loved it. Then the ring helpfully reminded her of something important. "But Dumbledore performed our ceremony! Wouldn't that make it a Wizarding marriage?"

"He was also ordained by a Muggle church, Unitarian Universalism. Apparently they take just anyone. You are a minor. In case you were wondering, your parents were not informed by Dumbledore accidentally on purpose so they could not object. But since they were absent they could not give consent, even if they were completely out of their minds and willing to do so."

"Under Wizarding Law, either marriage or parenthood conveys to me my majority."

He actually spent the effort to raise up onto his elbows to contradict this part of her argument.

"Only if you claim it, which you are in no way obligated to do. Such a move would be foolish in the extreme and completely contrary to your best interests." He was down again.

"My best interests currently include my husband and newborn daughter."

"Miss Granger-"

"It's Hermione, Severus or at least Mrs. Snape." She sat down carefully on the bed next to him and rested her hand gently on his shoulder.

"Hermione, ours is a child of prophesy."

"Prophesy? Like the twisted predictions that nutjob Trelawney spouts?"

"Trelawney was the source."

Now it was Hermione's turn to snort.

"Despite that fact, this was a legitimate prophesy. Our daughter, her very existence, is proof enough of that."

"She's the reason for our marriage! Dumbledore knew that Potions accident was going to happen! You knew?"

"I did not know it would be a Potions accident. I didn't know that anything at all would happen. Like you, I disbelieve every word she speaks. Quite sensible of us both as her average is once correct for every solid decade of her continuous incoherent babbling."

"You mean she's been right before?"

"May we discuss this tomorrow? Without getting too graphic, I just gave birth to something the size of a Quidditch bat through an orifice that never expected to serve such a purpose."

"Of course we can. Shouldn't you be in the infirmary?"

"I only require rest."

"Can I do anything?"

"Yes, that is the hall that leads to a door. That door opens upon your bedroom. Use it."

"Do you require a potion?"

"For the love of all that is Light, go away!"

"Goodnight, Severus."

"Sir."

"Thanks, but I 'm not Peppermint Patty. Hermione works just fine for me."

-More is coming! If you have a particular character cliche or overused plot device you absolutely need to see in this story, let me know! I'll see if I can work it in somehow! All comments welcome as always.