Chapter 10.

"Mrs Curos? Mrs Curos?" Professor Sprout's voice rang through the greenhouses. She paused, then called again.

Amused giggles spread through the students. Someone changed their name and forgot? What an idiot.

One of Gemma Farley's friends nudged her. "Weren't you complaining about how your name got changed? What was it again?"

Gemma felt her stomach sink. She dove into her book bag and came up with a pristine, untouched yellow envelope. Gemma Curos.

She stood up, gathering her things and walked towards the teacher. The giggles that had spread again as stood died out as she glared. Nobody messed with a Slytherin.

"Ah, Mrs Curos," Professor Sprout beamed, while Gemma fumed. "Sorry to interrupt your work, but there's been a case of accidental magic at your eldest child's school. You'll have to hurry along to Professor McGonagall before the Ministry of Magic turns up."

Gemma felt her stomach sink again. Accidental magic? How? They're supposed to be in stasis until I get home!

Professor Sprout must have seen the look on her face. "Don't worry dear, the child's still at the village. But in real life, you'll be called out of work when something like this happens. The Ministry of Magic might send an official, but it'll mostly be up to you to smooth things over with your child's school. Professor McGonagall will be standing in for the Muggle Principal today. Be confident. Off you go."

Gemma was muttering angrily under her breath as she stormed towards the castle. Class had only just started, and now she had to go deal with this?

Suddenly, her step faltered, and an evil grin flickered across her face. Anyone who knew her might have been worried.

Class has only just started. It's such a pity that dealing with this incident will take so long. I'll never get back in time. How incredibly sad, she thought sarcastically.

—Real Life Sucks—

Neville Longbottom almost turned back twice on his way to Professor McGonagall's office. The first was when he saw a group of third year Ravenclaws coming round the corner near the staircase. The second was when he saw the door to her office. It took him several minutes to take another step towards it.

But here he stood, waiting nervously in front of Fleur's desk. She held up one finger as she finished adding a list of numbers, then closed the book and looked up, smiling politely.

"Good morning. 'Ow can I 'elp you?"

"Uh, I'd like to see Professor McGonagall please?" It was more of a question than a statement.

"Do you 'ave an appointment?" Fleur looked down at another book, then back up at him.

"Uh… no? Not yet?" Neville had a sinking feeling.

"Well, I can make you one if you'd like. Tomorrow?"

"That'd be great, thanks."

"Name?"

"Neville Longbottom."

"Purpose?"

"Uh…" Neville got the feeling there wasn't a good way to say it. "I wanted to talk to her about proposing to my pregnant girlfriend."

Fleur stared at him for a moment. "Right." Neville watched as she wrote Personal on the appointment slip. "Come by after lunch. Ze 'eadmistress will be waiting for you."

Neville took the slip of parchment and scurried down the corridor. He didn't care if his proposal was meant to be a surprise. Padma could come herself next time.

—Real Life Sucks—

"David!"

Dean flinched as Seamus' voice rang cheerily through the crowded corridors.

"Don't do that, Seamus!"

"Do what? Greet my favourite half-brother?" Seamus pouted in mock hurt. Dean rolled his eyes.

"I'm your only half-brother," he said, checking his timetable. "Therefore, I am also your least favourite half-brother."

"Potions, brother dear," Seamus declared, with a sweeping arm that almost hit a passing fourth year.

Dean set off, hopeful of evading his 'half-brother.' When Seamus grinned like that, it meant something was happening inside his head. Something Dean didn't want to be near.

"I don't have anything now," Seamus announced innocently. "I think I'll tag along. Slughorn loves me."

Dean groaned inwardly as he entered the dungeons.

"So…" Seamus began conversationally. "When are you and Sister-in-law going to have kids?"

—Real Life Sucks—

Hermione wasn't herself. Harry could see that much. She was incredibly distracted, and she hadn't put her hand up once in Charms, which had alarmed Professor Flitwick so much he'd come over for a quiet word with Harry.

Harry had tried asking Ginny about it, but Ginny had been too busy burying her face in his chest and wailing about how she looked fat. The conversation had gone downhill rather quickly after that.

So, like a responsible friend, he told Hannah he'd be a while and used the internal Floo system to pay her a visit.

He had fully expected her to be in the kitchen, or working on some homework. He was prepared to face her wrath for calling unannounced.

He was not prepared for her to be dancing around her living room, cackling with glee as she launched sparks at a wad of green paper.

Mid-twirl she spotted him, and immediately stopped, sending one last red spark shooting towards the smoking paper.

"Er… hello Harry. What brings you here?"

"You…" Harry gestured vaguely at the paper, lost for words.

Hermione grinned. "Oh, that! Don't worry about that. They're playing a game of hide and seek, and I got sick of it, so I'm burning the maze down!"

"…right. That's… crazy. Are you feeling okay?" Harry asked nervously. Hermione waved him off happily and went back to her twirling and spark-throwing.

Harry walked suspiciously into the kitchen. Has she eaten some hallucinogen? What's she… My goodness.

There was no food at all in the kitchen. The plates stacked next to sink looked like they'd been there for days. The whole thing had a very un-Hermione feel to it.

"Hermione? What did you have for dinner last night?" he asked, returning to the lounge room.

She had the grace to blush a little. "Well, I need all the brainpower I can get because of the hide and seek, and if you use blood for digestion it takes away from the amount of blood being used in your brain, and that decreases your brainpower, and-" she faltered.

"Hermione," Harry said kindly, "would you like to tell me what the problem is?"

"I can't find it!" she cried, sinking into a chair. "I don't know where I could possibly have lost it, but it's missing, and my budget's tight enough as it is, and I can't make it add up!"

Harry thought fast. She made just as little sense as she had before, but it was evident she was massively stressing over a simple maths problem.

She couldn't be left on her own – that was how she'd gotten to this point. And he couldn't just abandon Hannah – technically it was his turn to cook, and Avrae and Issy would ask questions…

That left only one option.

"Right," he said authoritatively. "Come on."

He pulled her towards the fireplace, dumped a handful of Floo powder on the flames and pushed her in, muttering "Potter residence." When he followed, he almost ran into her.

"All right then," he grumbled, propelling her towards the kitchen. "Hannah! Can you set the table for one more?"

—Real Life Sucks—

Padma glared at her stomach.

Neville tried to be nice, really he did, but she still felt fat. And all she ever wanted to eat was chocolate. That, and cheese-dipped carrots.

She felt stupid in her robes, which she'd had to enlarge herself, and none of her Muggle clothes fit. Her centre of gravity was way off too, and she had to grip the railings every time she went up or down a floor.

She'd forgotten once, and three steps from the bottom she'd slipped, landing on poor Ernie Macmillan. He'd been absolutely terrified as she cried, and had ended up escorting her home, certain he'd broken her in some way.

And now here she sat, waiting next to Isobel for Madame Pomfrey to give them the next dose of potion.

"Cheer up, dear," Madame Pomfrey advised. "You'll only have to deal with a baby for a month after you give birth, so you're already ahead of most pregnant teens."

"Four months left," Padma said grimly, eyeing the glass of yellow liquid. "Only four months, then I get a baby. I can do this."

"That's the spirit!" Isobel said merrily, downing her potion in one swallow. "Unwed motherhood, here you come! Ouch!"

"Whoops," Padma said sarcastically.

—Real Life Sucks—

Despite what Blaise thought, Luna was very aware of his presence every time she was with Jenny. It would appear he didn't want the castle crazy infecting his daughter.

From what'd she'd seen of her daughter, Luna could tell it was already too late.

Luna had taken Jenny with her to visit the Potters on the Tuesday after the children had arrived. While the adults talked, Jenny sat quietly with the other children, staring off into space. Avrae and Issy had been quite good about it, gently nudging her back into reality when it was her turn in whatever game they were playing.

Afterwards, on their way home, Jenny had quietly informed her mother about the other children, and had even put in an evaluation for Harry and Hannah.

It would appear that Luna's self-preservation instincts had been passed on to her daughter.

"So, Jenny," Luna whispered in her daughter's ear. "Why do we look like we're not paying attention?"

"Because when people think your brain is somewhere else, they talk more. And when they talk, we learn things they might not want us to know." Jenny answered dutifully.

"And why do we invent creatures?"

"Because people think you're weird if you go around staring at walls, but they can get used to it if you say there's something there that they can't see. The tone of voice is very important as well."

Luna was impressed. She was liking this project more and more.

—Real Life Sucks—

Ronald Weasley was having a wonderful day. Everyone else seemed to be spending all their free time with their children. That, or avoiding the village like it was the plague. So nobody was pestering him at all.

He felt bad spending so little time with Harry and Hermione. Of course, they were busy with their children, and Hermione especially had dived into her schoolwork.

Ron was enjoying the chance for some peace, quiet and procrastination. Honestly, he'd lived in close proximity with his two best friends for a whole year. While he enjoyed their company, that was just a little too much.

And now he had an entire apartment to himself. It was a bit messy, but what did it matter? Nobody else had to live there, so he could do whatever he wanted with his space.

Really, the only downside to his life was having to spend time with Pansy Parkinson, and they'd mutually agreed to meet in the library so they wouldn't actually have to talk to each other. It was a wonderful arrangement, and although he disliked not having Hermione there to look over his work, he did enjoy the absence of her nagging.

He was once again trying to work the strange contraption in his lounge room when someone knocked on the door. He left the 'telling vision' (what did that even mean?) and opened it.

Pansy Parkinson herself stood in the doorway, sneering at the mess. A small boy with dark brown hair and eyes was holding her hand, looking up at him in confusion.

"Parkinson. What are you doing here?" Ron asked, wrinkling his nose.

"Weasel. Oh, sorry. Wazlib. I've been talking to McGonagall. She agreed that since I have an appointment now, I can make you look after Jordan and it'll count as my three hours in your company," Pansy informed him, looking almost gleeful. "Thanks ever so."

She bent down to the boy's height. "Jordan, this is Roonil." She sneered ever so slightly as she said his name. "I'm sorry that I have to leave you with him, but I'll be back soon. Mummy loves you."

She stood, kissed the boy's head and walked back into the elevator, leaving Ron with a small boy who was glaring at him.

"Mummy doesn't like you," he said, narrowing his eyes.

Ron felt just a little intimidated. Then he straightened his shoulders. He'd faced Voldemort himself.

Well, Voldemort's Horcruxes.

All right, so Harry had mostly dealt with them.

He'd faced a basilisk.

A dead basilisk, but still a basilisk.

There was no way he was going to let this magical simulation of a six-year-old get the best of him.

"Yeah, the feeling's mutual," he glowered back. Then he rolled his eyes. "Get inside."

"Don't wanna."

"Just do it, you little br- I mean, please step inside you dear child," Ron changed course mid-sentence. This thing had a mind of its own.

Jordan glared, then stomped past him.

"Don't touch anythi- Hey! Put that down!"

CRASH!

—Real Life Sucks—

Hello everybody! This is a little late for when we planned to update, but it's early for a Christmas present. So Merry Christmas! We're going to visit family, and won't have internet until about New Years. So this is it for the next little while… Sorry.

And on a small side note, I just wanted to officially say that so far, nobody in this story is going to end up romantically attached to anyone else. Friendships will be forged, but it's not our intention to suddenly have Hermione and Draco falling head over heels, or Luna suddenly discovering a deep attachment to Blaise. Just not gonna happen.

There are a couple of minor side characters we have our eye on, but really we're just developing many platonic, long-lasting friendships that will last long after they've all left Hogwarts.

All the best guys!