This, dear friends, is proof that I belong in a loony bin. Fear not, though, for Hermione lack's Blaise's psychic powers. NOTHING she dreams about will come true. Not even I am messed-up enough to bring these mutant creatures into my Speakerverse. They exist only in Hermione's traumatized mind.
Hermione had never been so grateful that she lacked Blaise's powers. It certainly gave her a bit of a disadvantage, not being able to see the future through her dreams, but it meant she would never have to worry about her nightmares coming true.
And what a nightmare!
The Ravenclaw shuddered in bone-deep horror. This was the last time she ever talked with Hagrid before going to bed! From now on, she would avoid him at all costs after suppertime. And if he was in a particularly sappy mood, she would run screaming whenever he approached.
Lamia was their firstborn and only biological daughter. Like her mother, she had the ability to transform into a jewel-green snake. However, she couldn't kill, not even in her basilisk form. Her only gifts were Parselmouth and Petrification. Her hair was thick and curly, and she shared her father's love of dangerous beasts. She loved wandering through the Forbidden Forest, consorting with centaurs and other creatures (though never acromantulas).
Hermione whimpered. How could she possibly speak to Saysa with this awful, nightmarish images scarred into her brain?
Cecrops was their second. From his waist up, he was the spitting image of his father. Beneath, though, his legs fused into a scaly green tail. His eyes were beetle-black and slitted down the center. He, too, was a Parselmouth, though his gaze could only paralyze temporarily. Cecrops adored the Chamber of Secrets. Nothing pleased him more than listening to his mother's stories of how it had been made, of the Founders four and their ancient prophecies.
Hermione buried her head in her hands. She wanted to start shouting "LALALALALALALA" at the top of her lungs, but that would be ineffective. The voices came from within, not without. She couldn't drown it out by screaming. Not to mention that her Housemates wouldn't appreciate being woken at two in the morning by a hysterical witch.
Though screaming would certainly make her feel better.
Except for the wild black hair which sprouted from his head, Apophis was entirely serpentine. Only four years old, he was already almost twenty feet long- and still growing. His eyes, too, were surprisingly human- yellow as his mother's, but with round pupils instead of slits. Despite his animalistic appearance, Apophis was the smartest of their brood. He was soft-spoken and articulate, slipping between Parseltongue and English with careless ease.
"Never again," she moaned. "Never again."
Veles was the baby of the family, still too young to really have much of a personality. He was cute, though, despite his mouthful of fangs. Like his sister, he was a shape shifter, changing back and forth between the forms of a young basilisk and a human lad.
First thing in the morning, she was going to Madame Pomphrey for Dreamless Sleep Potion. If that failed, she would make some herself. Even the Draught of Living Death would be better than another nightmare like this.
And who could forget Norberta? The dragoness wasn't related to either parent by blood, but she was theirs nonetheless. It had taken her a long time to warm to Hagrid, but now she held him in as much affection as she did her foster-mother- not that the fiery dragoness would ever admit it.
It was official: there was no way she could ever speak to Saysa, Hagrid, or Norberta ever again. And if she ever met someone named Lamia, Cecrops, Apophis, or Veles, there was no telling what she would do.
Hermione liked babysitting the [unholy spawn, terrifyingly scarring mutants, messed-up snake creatures] children. She sat in Hagrid's hut, telling them stories about her adventures as a student. They were good children, quiet and polite. Saysa had raised them well.
"But all the prophecies are fulfilled now, right, Aunt Hermione?" Apophis sounded disappointed. He was coiled up by the fireplace with Fang, who had long ago grown used to the strange-smelling snake-creatures which shared his home.
"Oh, yes. Dumbledore and Voldemort were defeated long ago, right before your sister was born." Norberta cleared her throat. For some inexplicable reason, she too was in human form. "Your sister Lamia," Hermione corrected herself.
"I wish I'd been born earlier," sighed Cecrops. "It would have been terribly exciting."
"Be glad you weren't," the only full human reprimanded. "It was an awful time. But we won, and your parents got together and had you, so everything turned out all right."
Veles started crying, revealing his pointed fangs and forked tongue. Hermione began to rock him, and he quieted.
Such a nice, happy little family, she mused, smiling at the children. So wonderful that Hagrid and Saysa had gotten together.
The dream hadn't seemed so bad when she was still asleep- and in a way, that was the most terrifying thing of all. It had seemed so freakishly normal, so horrifyingly plausible. Only when she woke up did Hermione realize just how nightmarish that dream had actually been.
Was it possible to Obliviate oneself? She made a mental note to research it.
In the meantime, she would avoid all parties involved in her hideous vision. And she would never, never, NEVER argue with Hagrid about his nonexistent love life EVER again.
