Chapter 9: In Which Our Heroine Is Slapped In the Face with Wedded Bliss
It was 9:45 Sunday morning, and in a few moments the seventh year girls would be joining her for 'an informal discussion.' Hermione decided the room would do, twenty cushy chairs arranged in a circle, interspersed with small tables bearing tea and nibbles. This wasn't a formal class, and she wasn't about to lecture them for hours about chastity, the lack thereof, and the consequences therewith.
She weeded the seventh years out because there really wasn't too much point in going over the 'Why you shouldn't get pregnant in school' part of the discussion. NEWTS were the week after next, and for the ones who weren't pregnant already getting tripped up in the next few weeks wouldn't make all that much of a difference. So what was she going to do with this class? Feed them tea and biscuits and try to get them to pretend to be interested in school for the sake of the younger ones. Bugger!
None of them would be going on for further schooling, at least anytime soon. And it wasn't like any jobs were hiring young witches these days either. No sense in hiring someone you'll have to replace in less than a year. They'd be getting married and cranking out babies. From what she had seen in Harry and Ginny's house little babies took a lot of time and effort. And with a mother and eight sisters-in-law to share baby care with, Ginny had it pretty easy. Most of these girls wouldn't be in that kind of situation. How many of them are orphans because of Vold War II?
On that grim note, the girls began to file into the room, chatting happily. At least they're in a good mood. Why shouldn't they be? They're young, in love, and getting married in the next few months. It won't hit most of them for months if not years.
When they all settled down, Hermione also sat down, grabbed a cup of tea, and began to talk. "So the reason we're all here today is to discuss the new Marriage Law, how it will effect you, and how you effect the younger girls. First off, who is planning on leaving town to avoid the law or get the bounty on a foreign spouse?" Five hands went up. "I've got handouts about magical communities in America and Australia. They're the ones I know personally, and I've got a sister-in-law who will be thrilled to tell any of you all you want to know about France. Her name and floo is on the handout as well."
"Second of all, how many of you are expecting?" Four hands went up, along quite a bit of giggling. "How many of you who aren't pregnant intend to rectify that situation before graduation?" Three more hands went up. This time with blushes. "So the remaining seven of you are undecided, waiting until you get married, or just don't have enough access to your beloved at this time." Nods went around the room.
"I am not here to yell at you for getting pregnant before you get married. I'm not even here to tell you to wait until you get married. I am here to hammer one thing into your heads: We don't want the fifth and sixth years getting pregnant and dropping out of school. We don't want them turning seventeen and immediately starting on the next generation. We want all of you to finish school. I know it might not seem terribly important right this second, but your education is valuable. So please, do not encourage the younger girls to get pregnant. And by encourage, I mean, please do not be telling them tales of your current glorious romances, and how much fun they are. We don't want them running off to find one as soon as possible. Give them the time to finish their education."
Daisy Creevy, with more guts than brains, asked, "Why? I mean that's what we're supposed to do. Get married, make babies…"
Hermione cut her off, "What are you going to do after you get done with babies? Even if you crank out ten of them, you're still only busy for thirty years. What do you do with the rest of your life?"
"Take care of your husband?" Daisy answered, less sure of herself.
"How much taking care of can one man need? And, yes, I am aware that you and Peter Plumm are engaged. Even he isn't a full time job. That's where finishing your education comes in. It won't be soon, but eventually you'll want to do something other than babies, and when you do, you'll need skills besides nappy changing.
"All of you will be finishing school with several NEWT levels a piece. This gives you the tools you need to do what you want to later in your lives. If the younger girls start getting pregnant as soon as they turn seventeen, or worse, younger, they won't have those skills. They'll hit the point in their lives where they aren't taking care of kids anymore, and what will they do? Come back here at fifty to finish their NEWT levels?" Most of the girls laughed, but Hermione had the sinking sensation that she just might have come up with a better prophecy than anything Sybil had said in the last seven years.
"Most of us will live to be at least one hundred and twenty if not a good bit older. If you've only got the skills you need to take you the first fifty years, that's a lot of time to be miserably bored.
"I've said my bit; the rest of this is up to you. The floor is open to discussion, debate, questions, or just showing off engagement rings."
The girls talked among themselves for a few moments before Alexandra Denny, a Ravenclaw who was leaving town after graduation, asked "Professor, what are you going to do?"
Thirty-eight eyes stared at Hermione. She stared back. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you aren't married. Will you be leaving? Will you get married? What are you going to do?"
"I'm…" she paused, thinking about how much she wanted to reveal to her students."I'm not really sure. I'd like to stay. I enjoy my job quite a bit."
"How are you going to keep working with babies of your own?" This time Alicia Harding voiced the question.
"Ummm..." Hermione thought fast. "I've got eight sisters-in-law, and they do a baby sharing thing where two or three of them take care of all the kids one day, and then they swap around. I guess as soon as I was done nursing I'd be part of that."
"But you can't work and nurse?" asked a black haired Hufflepuff.
"I suppose you could, but I know I wouldn't want to. Ginny… Mrs Potter, has a six week old at home and she eats every three or four hours."
"All day and night?" Alicia seemed horrified by the idea.
"All day and all night." Hermione was equally horrified by the idea. She was rather fond of her sleep.
"Wouldn't your husband support you?" chirped another girl.
"As I said, I like my job, and I don't have a husband yet, but I'm sure I'll marry one that has enough income so I don't have to work when the babies are very little."
"Could he care for the babies while you worked?" Amber Spence of Ravenclaw asked.
"I don't see why not. I've seen a few Muggle families set up that way, but you need enough income to last for as long as you aren't working, and a job that will take you back after."
"Why do you have to stop working?" And this was where Hermione ran full on into a huge gaping chasm of ignorance.
She looked mildly embarrassed. "I grew up with Muggles, and they need at least a few weeks to heal up from having a baby. I think we need to get Madame Pomfrey down here to answer any more specific questions about having babies in the Wizarding World, because I just don't know. It's not like I've had any of my own."
"Did you fill out the questionnaire?" asked Alicia.
"Yes, I did."
"How many matches did you have? Were there lots?" asked a dreamy eyed Gryffindor.
"No, but I was very specific about what I was looking for in a man."
"And you ended up with Headmaster Snape?" Hermione didn't catch which one of the girls had asked that one, but she did notice the incredulity of the voice.
"Yes, I did."
"Is he as scary as he was when he was here?"
She knew this was not an area she wanted to discuss further. "Headmaster Snape and all dealings concerning him are now off limits."
"Don't you want to get married?" Rose Johnson, one of the brighter girls, one she was hoping would go to America with her at the end of the term asked.
"Not really. But I want to keep my job."
"Why wouldn't you want to get married?" The Slytherin who asked looked amazed that anyone wouldn't want to get married. Of course, she'd probably had a family she'd marry into, if not a specific husband, picked out since before she was born.
Hermione felt a headache coming on. "I did want to get married. At your age I wanted to get married very badly, but my man didn't make it home from the War. Since then I haven't had much interest."
She heard the class murmur and then a sparkly looking Hufflepuff added, "Well, this could be your chance to find a new man."
Hermione sighed, while the girl nearest the Hufflepuff poked her in the ribs and said in a very loud whisper, "Don't you remember Headmaster Snape?" The Hufflepuff blanched white when the memory of Snape stole into her mind.
"Look, being married usually doesn't mean the end of your career. Most of the time, you get married, live happily with one another, and eventually, if you want them, you have children. All of us are going to miss out on that gradual building of a relationship. If any single thing about this appalling Law should make you angry, it's that. There won't be time for learning about each other. There won't be quiet Sundays spent reading. Dinners for two will be few and far between. You won't get to sleep in on the weekends wrapped in each other's arms. All the special stuff, all the romance, all the good stuff will be rushed, and then…" Hermione realized that nineteen pairs of eyes were looking at her in stupefaction. They were young, engaged, happy, and living the dream. They hadn't lived long enough to develop more sophisticated dreams. "Never mind, who picked the biggest, fluffiest, whitest dress?"