A/N: As you can tell from parts 1-5, I don't own these characters. Why would you think it was any different this time?

Hermione sat silently contemplating the implications of the situation. Wait, you say. Weren't she, Ron and Sirius just in mortal peril in the last chapter? Well, yes. But the author doesn't want to explain her way out of that plot disaster. So, in short, they survived. And kicked some ass.

Harry, however, wasn't so lucky. That's right. He died. Again. At the hands of Voldemort. Only this time, the author allowed Voldemort to die as well, so she wouldn't have to deal with him again. But there was a new problem afoot!

Hermione couldn't remember who she was. Somehow, in all the confusion of the battle with the trillions (the number had escalated drastically since the reader hit the next chapter button) of Death Eaters, Hermione was hit with some sort of curse that erased any and all memories she possessed, and she had somehow ended up living with a man. A man, the author adds, who is gay. Because when Hermione loses her memory, she ends up living with a gay man who can support her and her children.

Her children, you ask? Why of course, the author replies! Because, as soon as her memory fades and she regains consciousness in this mysterious man's house, she is pregnant. How, you ask? Not by the gay man, if you were wondering. No, no. It must've been one of those countless love-making moments between her and Ron. But she didn't know that!

"Can I get you some tea, darling?" Asked the man, because tea was still the only drink the author would allow them. After Hermione nodded and was left alone once more, she checked up on her children (Twins, oddly enough. It's always twins.). They had flaming red hair, yet her brown eyes. They were lithe, yet managed to eat everything in sight. They looked retarded, but had her quick wit. Thin, yet fat. (A/N: I apologize for that reference to an earlier joke… But I just can't let it go.)

Just then, a freakishly tall and mind-blowingly built man burst into the room, his flaming red hair looking oddly familiar…

"Hermione! Finally I've found you! I've been looking for you for the millisecond between loading pages, and I have to tell you that I love you and I want to marry you and we can have lots of red-haired babies who look retarded but have your quick wit, and manage to eat everything in sight yet remain thin… yet fat," Ron coughed, rubbing his eyes as he stared at the cue cards the author held up with an impish grin. Shrugging it off, he continued. "Let's just get all of the little things out of the way, shall we? I'm Ron, we love each other, we're magical beings, and we love each other. I think that sums things up. Can we shag now?"

Comprehension seemed to dawn on Hermione. Of course, she thought. This must be the father of my children! Because, honestly, how many red-heads pop up in this story? Oh… was she in for a surprise…

After sorting out the whole 'we have children' thing, Ron had decided to take Hermione and his children back to the Burrow to meet his family. Hermione's gay roommate, which she had grown incredibly close to (in the few short seconds of loading time), told her that he was fine with her going off to reacquaint herself with her magical roots. Apparently, in fan fiction, all gay people were understanding and stereotypical (A/N: Pssh. Please.). Moving on!

When Hermione managed to tumble out of the Burrow's fire place, she was attacked by the entire family, being pulled in to fierce embraces and being asked where she was. She also suspected someone had pinched her ass, but wasn't too sure on who that was. Ron appeared moments later, carrying their children in his arms. The entire Weasley family instantly fell silent. They then proceeded to coo over the children that had been missing from their lives for far too many minutes, rounding on Hermione and asking what their names were.

"Oh, um… y'see, I apparently only had them a few minutes ago… and I didn't have much time to think about it… so… I named them #1 and #2," Hermione said. The entire family blinked, then shrugged and continued their cooing. It was then that Hermione noticed that the entire family had red hair. Uh oh. Now she wasn't so sure if Ron was the father of her children. I mean, honestly, she hadn't expected to see another red head, let alone a gaggle of them.

She decided she would stick with Ron, though, so she wouldn't stir up too much drama. Besides, he was tall and freakishly muscled from apparently just sitting around and eating all day. It wasn't that bad.

Hermione decided to leave her beloved minute-old children in the hands of complete and total strangers, to go and make passionate love to Ron. Because, let's be honest. She hasn't gotten laid in awhile. So, after their passionate love making, Hermione got pregnant again. Because these kids just weren't smart (A/N: Wrap it up, guys. Honestly.).

As they trotted down the stairs, Mrs. Weasley looked up and gasped. "You're pregnant, again! Honestly, don't you two know anything about protection? Welp, guess you'll have to get married as a quick solution. That, and so I can have a mini-breakdown about wedding plans and the like, being the worrying mom that I am."

Hermione wondered how Mrs. Weasley knew she was pregnant, until she felt Ron pluck a sign off her back that said: "A/N: Hermione's pregnant; react like understanding family." Hermione sighed, eyes narrowing as she stared at the author, who was innocently whistling in the corner. Wait, that's not right. The author can't whistle… Moving on!

After getting over her betrayal by the author, Hermione somehow found herself in a wedding gown and walking down the aisle on the arm of her father. How, you ask? Because the author wishes to hurry this along, as she's very tired and running low on tea. Moving on!

They got married, so on and so forth, happily ever after. Mrs. Weasley and Ron-Hermione shippers alike sobbed at the proceedings, so happy that the story had finally come to a close with a happy ending.

Or had it? Should this be continued? Should they live in bliss, reproducing like bunnies? Should Harry rise from the dead once again? What in the hell happened to Sirius? What's the author's true name? Should I leave you to guess my name, or break the mounting tension that I know is occurring in my ones and ones of fans? Should I continue to carry this story down the path of craziness and bizarreness? Is bizarreness even a word? All this, and maybe less, could be answered in the next chapter. It all depends on your reviews.