Chapter 8: In Which the School Finds Out

"We've run into an unexpected complication from the new Marriage Law," Headmaster McGonagall stated to the three youngest professors at Hogwarts, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and Neville Longbottom. "It seems that roughly two thirds of our seventh years are ignoring their studies and planning weddings or how to create the most ostentatious proposals they can." Her cold gaze settled on Neville and Harry. "I have noticed the Gryffindor boys especially are doing all they can to see which one of them can make the biggest spectacle of himself while pursuing his lady love. I have also been told by Poppy that it's a very good thing that it's May and the school year is almost out, because a few of our soon to be newly-weds will also be parents around Christmas. So, we will be adding a new class to the curriculum for Fifth years and up, concerning relationships, contraception, and why it is an extremely good idea not to get in a family way while still here at Hogwarts. Harry and Neville, you will have the boys, and Hermione you have the girls. I am hoping that since you three are so close to them in age, they will actually listen to what you have to say." She looked at them in a manner that brooked no argument. "I've informed the boys, that on Saturday afternoon from 1 to 3, and the girls, that on Sunday 1 to 3, they'll have a special class."

The three former Gryffindors grumbled their way out of her office. Hermione stopped dead in her tracks a few feet from McGonagall's door, whipped around, and headed back into the Headmaster's office.

"What was that for?" Neville asked.

"She has a date Sunday evening. I'm sure she wants to see if she can reschedule her class," Harry answered.

"A date? With who?"

"You will never, ever, ever believe it." Harry shook his head forlornly while he spoke.

"Try me."

"Severus Snape."

Now it was Neville's turn to stop dead in his tracks. Finally he said, "This is either the worst joke in the world, or… no it's the worst joke in the world."

"That's pretty much what I thought when I first heard. I even accused George of setting it up. But it seems real. Snape was the highest match on her list. So they had drinks, she didn't hex him into next Sunday, and then they agreed to have dinner tomorrow. She's cooking."

At which point, Hermione rejoined them. Neville took one look at her, dropped to his knees and said, "Hermione, don't do this to yourself. Marry me. We've got lots in common. I've always respected you for your brains and…"

"I see Harry told you who my dinner companion is tomorrow." She raised an eyebrow at Harry.

Harry shrugged. "I didn't think it was a secret."

She sighed, "Well, it's not. Get up Neville. You're being sweet, really, but I'm interested in having a husband all to myself. If memory serves, you've got two wives at home these days."

Neville stood up and sighed quietly with relief. Hermione was great, but as the sane part of his mind returned, he realised she and Luna wouldn't live together well. "Hermione, how can you even consider him? He's evil."

"He was loyal to the Order."

"Nothing doing, he's evil. Umbridge wasn't a Death Eater either, that didn't make her any less evil. He spent six years torturing us as often as possible. You weren't here when he was Headmaster; he let them crucio us for fun. He…" Neville shuddered.

"He gave Harry the one missing piece of information he needed to defeat Voldemort. He gave us the sword that we used to destroy the Horcruxes. Most importantly he saved all of our lives by making sure the Order got us out of the Ministry our fifth year. We all would have died there if he had just sat on his hands."

Neville glared at Hermione. He hated to be reminded that Snape had saved their lives.

Harry decided it was time for a change of topic. "So, sex education. Any ideas on how to do that?" They continued the discussion while heading towards their next class.

Two hours and a class later, Hermione was heading towards lunch when Hagrid walked up to her.

"Can we talk alone for a mo'?"

"Certainly, Hagrid." Hermione knew what was coming next, and was desperately trying to think of a polite way to turn Hagrid down.

They walked toward a sheltered space beside the courtyard. Hagrid kept giving Hermione nervous looks while fiddling with the strap to the sack he was carrying. Finally, when they were out of earshot of the students, Hagrid began to speak: "Hermione I just heard, and I want you to know…" He started to kneel, realised he was still taller than she was, and sat on the ground. "I know you want a husband you don't have to share. I'm not married, no girlfriends either. And I've always loved you, ever since you were a little girl." At which point Hermione sat down next to him, and took his enormous hand in hers.

"Yes, you've been a lovely friend all these years, especially when we were little, and I think I know what you are going to say next. I don't need to be rescued, and that's the only reason you're doing this."

"I could be a good husband to you Hermione, better than he could, at least."

Hermione sighed, "I'm sure you would, but…" she faltered, searching for a way to say what she was thinking. "I don't think there is a delicate way to say this: you're just too big for me."

Hagrid looked confused for a moment, and then a look of understanding washed over his face. "Oh."

"Yes. And since the whole point of this is to make babies…"

A scarlet blush rose on the exposed bits of his face. "You don't breed Clydesdales to Shetland Ponies."

"Exactly." Hermione kept her voice crisp, sensing that he'd be even more embarrassed if she was too tender.

With that he started to stand up. "You aren't serious about Snape? He killed Dumbledore."

"And you and I both saw the memory of Dumbledore asking him to do it. If Dumbledore had asked you, would you have done it?"

"No, I never could have. Never. Dumbledore was the best friend I had ever had… I still hate him for doing it, even if Dumbledore was already dying, even if the alternative was Malfoy… You don't kill your friends."

"You've put animals down when they were hurt and dying?"

"It's not the same." Hermione realised that this was a gaping wound in Hagrid's soul and poking it further would do no good.

"We had drinks last night. He's different than we remember him. Ask Harry if you don't believe me. He's convinced that it's actually someone else pretending to be Snape. Why anyone would want to do that I can't imagine." She shook her head. "Shall we head to lunch?"

Lunch was a debacle. Neville Longbottom had many fine qualities, but the ability to sit on a piece of juicy gossip was not among them. By the time Hermione sat down at the head table, all of the other professors were watching her, and the gossip mill was churning along freely.

Professor Trelawney predicted doom and gloom with an extra helping of heartache. Flitwick and Slughorn both proposed. McGonagall said nothing but kept looking at her strangely. Hermione was actually glad when a formal duel broke out between John Thompson, Gryffindor, and Eric MacHuffin, Slytherin, over the fair Elana Vance, Ravenclaw. Because Hermione taught all three in her Arithmancy NEWT she ended up in charge of 'helping them come to a solution.'

She found herself pacing about an empty classroom, both of the boys in full body binds, Elana sitting in a chair between them.

"I don't care which one of them you pick!" she said to Elana. "Take both of them, I think that's legal under the current law, but we will not have any more of this silliness."

Elana looked up at her, eyes wide with an idea that had never occurred to her before. "I can have both of them?"

"I don't see why not. But, I also don't see why you'd want either of them, let alone both of them. Idiots who can't keep their temper in check are unlikely to make good husbands."

Hermione turned to face John and Eric, both of whom had gone pale at the idea of sharing Elana for the rest of their lives. "Now, I am going to leave this room and lock the door. The door will not open until you three have some sort of settlement. May I also add: I will be looking for physical damage and will remove 50 points from each house for any cuts, scrapes, bruises, or signs of pain that I find upon your exit." And with that she released the boys, left the room, and sealed the door.

"God save me from lovesick, horny teenagers!"