Epilogue: or “Nineteen years Lat—err... I mean /Fifteen/...”
Standard Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters are property of J K Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Arthur A. Levine Books, Raincoast Books, Scholastic publishing (et al.) and are used without permission. This work was written purely for noncommercial entertainment; no money is being made.
WARNING: Harsh Language, adult themes, sexual situations (i.e. smut), bad spelling and grammar.
Author’s Notes: This story is a broad farce with over the top humor (a good deal of it is crude and sexual) and OOC actions (that’s Out Of Character if you don’t know). Also, this is my first smut-ish fic. If you don’t like sex and sex-based humor, do NOT read this!
Epilogue: Look everybody! It’s an epilogue!
Nineteen Years Later...
Wait... what? Nineteen? Why nineteen? Don’t these things happen in even amounts of years like “two,”“ten,” or “twenty”? Or even increments of five years? Why would I go against convention and use an odd number like nineteen? “Oh, look at me; I’m such a rebel. I place my epilogue nineteen years into the future! I’m such a trend setter.”
Who am I to go against convention?
/Fifteen/ years later...
No matter how many times Harry saw the “/new/” Hogwarts, the wizard’s chest would puff up with well-earned pride. Not only had he co-created the unique ritual to rebuild the ruined castle with Hermione thirteen years before, but he and his wife had been one of the dozens of couples that had performed said sex-ritual. He could still remember the scores of two-person tents (and a three-person tent for Seamus, Lavender and Parvati) that circled the ruins and the non-stop peals of pleasure and wet squelching noises that filled the night as the stones flew through the air and rebuilt the ancient castle.
It looked exactly the way it did before it fell. Well, not/exactly/. The Astronomy Tower was significantly taller and thicker than it had been. Also, it had a peculiar, yet/pleasing/ curve to it. And most people described the parapet as being “/crown/” shaped. Hermione believed that the sex-ritual that recreated the castle had inadvertently altered this particular part of the building. In fact, a few muggleborns had stated that the tower now appeared to be a copy of the notorious tower that had been featured in the original poster art for Disney’s “/The Little Mermaid.”/ The thick, creeping vines that crisscrossed the Tower only aided in this comparison.
Another side effect of the sex-ritual that had rebuilt Hogwarts meant the castle and its wards now fed off of any sex act. Seeing that the castle was chockfull of hormonal teenagers wanking, snogging, performing hand-jobs and oral sex, and outright fornicating every single day, the new castle literally throbbed with power. Throbbed/. As he and Hermione walked up the hill to the castle, Harry could actually see the building pulsate – and /throb – particularly the new Astronomy Tower.
Just before the married couple walked through the giant doors of Hogwarts, Harry noticed the black-lace choker around his wife’s neck. The choker was just part of a garment Hermione had donned this morning. The costume was normally used for when the couple would act out a rather fun role-playing game where Hermione was a bad maid who had not dusted properly and therefore deserved a“/punishment/” from Harry. Today, the punishment hadn’t been for improper dusting, but for a cruel, teasing joke the brunette had played.
Harry made a polite coughing sound to attract her attention and pointed at his own neck.
“Oh my, we don’t want to lose this one,” the brunette said instantly realizing what Harry’s gesture meant. She carefully removed the choker and tucked it away in her robe pocket. “/Risqu?aid/” was one of her most favorite games after-all.
As they entered the castle, the sound of hundreds and hundreds of students talking and rushing to class nearly overpowered them. The years that followed the fall of the first Hogwarts Castle and Voldemort’s defeat saw the wizarding population of Britain increase significantly. Year after year the birth rate had shattered the previous year’s record setting number. This massive and continual spike in the population was due to the age of peace that the wizards and witches now experienced thanks to Voldemort’s demise. Or at least that is what the history books claimed. The real reason that the birth rate was rising rapidly each year was due to the fact that every witch and wizard were having copious amounts of sex. And this was directly correlated to the wildly popular Books of Love Magic and its ten volumes (so far). The highest seller to date was Volume Six: Pregnancy and You which had a four month pregnant (with James) “/Mona Puckle”/ and sixth month pregnant(with the twins Harry and Harriet) “Perky ‘The Jugs’ Weatherby” with their respective husbands performing rituals designed to aid in various stages of pregnancy and childbirth, as well as recipes for balms and salves that made stretch marks disappear and physical exercises that helped fight various sagging bits on both partners.
“It looks like they’re going to have to add another wing to the castle just to house the ever-growing student body,” commented Hermione as the couple pushed through the throng of students. The school’s population had tripled twice over since they had taken their NEWTS.
“Maybe we can come up with another ritual to do just that?” suggested Harry, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively. “I mean it’s not like we haven’t invested ourselves to the castle before.”
“I’ll work on it tonight,” she said, looking forward to the practice. Trial and error was so much fun when orgasms were included.
The couple made their way to the Hospital Ward where Luna Weasley worked. Thanks to her share of the book profits, the blonde and her husband were reasonably wealthy and didn’t need to work. She did however take the position of Hogwarts’ nurse in order to be close to her children. And Ron took up the position of nurse’s aide for the same reasons – that and easy access to the mid-afternoon shags he had grown to love. As for Harry and Hermione, they too were able to live just as comfortably thanks to their shares of book sales and found things to do in their spare time: Harry was content to be what Muggles called a“/Stay-at-Home-Dad”/ while Hermione, who did more than her fair share in raising their children, spent some of her free time trying to live up to her title of the “/Chosen One”/by striving to give House-Elves equal rights. So far, the best she had been able to accomplish is a Ministry standard three sickle yearly salary and two days off a month. Even though Hermione thought this was unacceptable, the House-Elves were ecstatic over their new freedom. They were so overjoyed by their Savior’s accomplishment that they created over a dozen holidays where they showered the Chosen One with praise and gifts. Ironically enough, these gifts the House-Elves gave her were hand-knitted hats that were strikingly similar to the ones she herself had made in her fifth year in a misguided attempt to free the tiny creatures. One room in their home, the Shrieking Shack (which was still a grandiose mansion on the inside thanks to Harry’s accidentally bout of magic when the couple had first made love), was used strictly to house the thousands upon thousands of hats she had received over the years.
Harry and Hermione found their best friends putting away supplies upon entering the Hospital Ward.
“’Lo, Hermione, Harry, what brings you here?” asked Ron as he helped his wife stock the shelves with ointments, salves and various potions.
Before either could answer, fifteen year old Sirius Lupin, Remus and Tonks’ eldest son, pushed his way into the Ward. He held a blood-soaked cloth to his head.
“What’s the matter, Sirius?” Luna asked.
“Erm… uh…I… er… bumped my head,” he answered lamely. Unlike his father, Sirius was a horrible liar. This un-Marauder like-setback did not stop the young wizard from committing acts of mischief and mayhem.
“Did you happen to bump your head because you were up to no good with the twins?” asked Luna.
“Which ones?” the young boy asked Luna in return. It was clear that Sirius was attempting to distract the adults in the room. “Your twins or Aunt Hermione and Uncle Harry’s twins?”
Knowing that the fifteen year old boy was trying to protect his best friend and obvious cohort with this distraction, Harry asked, “So it was Hyphen then?”
“Yes, Uncle Harry,” Sirius admitted. “We were pranking some Slytherins and I tripped when we made our escape. Hit my head on the steps leading out of the dungeons.”
“And I take it our daughter’s in her dorm room right now devising an alibi for the two of you?” asked Hermione.
“Yes,” he replied.
Harry smiled to himself, imagining Hyphen’s brilliant green eyes sparkling mischievously behind her spectacles, twirling one of her long strands of black, kinky hair which she tended to do when she was up to no good. A part of him was glad to see his fourteen year-old daughter giving Slytherins hell. Of course he’d never mention this to Hermione who always scolded Hyphen and their other children for not supporting Inter-House unity.
Luna gingerly pulled the boy’s hand from his head and said,“Just a scratch and a mild concussion – nothing that a few waves from a wand and a potion won’t fix.”
Once Sirius was healed, Luna shooed the “miracle-boy” away. Like his godfather, Harry, Sirius Lupin had earned an unwanted moniker. The first full moon after his fifth birthday, Sirius changed into a werewolf, just as everyone feared. He had unfortunately inherited the condition from his father. However, Sirius also inherited his mother’s Metamorphmagus abilities. The next full moon, Sirius did not change, much to everyone’s surprise. After a bit of study, it was discovered that after his first painful transformation into a wolf, Sirius unconsciously used his Metamorphmagus ability to cancel out his werewolf transformation. Using this knowledge, several Potion Masters created a cure for Lycanthropy based off of Sirius’ unique ability. Thus, he was heralded as the “miracle-boy.”
Once the four adults were alone, Hermione announced, “I have news,” the brunette was glowing with happiness. “Guess whose expecting again?”
“Another one?” asked Ron disbelievingly.
“You know Harry, ever since he found out I told that little fib, he thinks that I shouldn’t be without child for more than a year at a time.”
After their third child was born, Harry sat down and did the math, so to speak. Their first child, Lily-Fiona Granger-Potter – affectionately called “Hyphen” – was born a little more than nine months and one week after Hermione told him she was pregnant that fateful day. Harry knew Hyphen wasn’t late and doubted that their daughter had already been conceived the day Hermione announced her pregnancy. When confronted, Hermione confessed to her “/delay in the truth/.” In retrospect, Harry should have known it was a lie – Hermione was an absolute pathetic liar after all. In his defense, he had accepted his future wife’s claim simply because he didn’t think she could have ever lied about something so important, especially when their lives were in mortal peril at the time. Even though the lie was for the greater good, allowing Harry to tap completely into his love-core and therefore defeat Voldemort, the wizard was justifiably upset when Hermione confessed. After along, drawn out argument, and as a form of “/penance,”/Hermione baked Harry a pie (or rather, she asked Dobby – their employed house-elf – to bake Harry a pie) and then performed fellatio on her husband while he enjoyed his pastry treat. This led to the two shagging on the kitchen table while their three kids took their afternoon kip, which led to Hermione becoming pregnant again with the twins Eric and Lacy. It quickly became a joke that Harry had knocked up Hermione on a regular basis as a form of punishment for her “/delay in the truth/.” This couldn’t be further from the truth – the couple had always intended on having a large family.
“What will this make? Nine sprogs? Hell, I’m a Weasley and I don’t have that many,” the red head commented.
“But you’re not living up to the Weasley name, are you? If Molly didn’t have so many grandchildren from your brothers and sister, I’m certain she’d berate you daily for only having four. Bill and Fleur have six. Fred and George each have five. Percy, with his five ex-wives, has a total of eight. Even Charlie, who’s gay, has seven kids. But Ginny and Neville are obviously trying to make up for your lack of children with their eleven,” Hermione pointed out.
“That’s only because Neville and that enormous penis of his ejaculates directly into Ginny’s womb each time they make love,” Luna said. “They have to realize that no magical form of anti-conception will work with them.”
“Yeah, let’s just hope he takes my advice and pulls out from now on,” Harry chuckled. “Or at least buy some Muggle-condoms.”
“So, number nine, huh,” Ron said, returning to his friend’s happy news. “You’re going to run out of names you know.”
“Well I suggested we name the baby after Snape,” Hermione said. She smiled at the scowl that marred her husband’s face.
“I take it that didn’t go over well?” asked Luna.
“No,” Harry said, flatly.
“To say the least,” snorted Hermione. “After I used the Defebulator Charm to revive him and told him it was ajoke, Harry gave me a sound paddling. Of course I was hoping for a spanking, so I think it worked out rather well for me.”
“Were you two were playing ‘The Lady and the Pauper’or ‘/Snarky Schoolgirl’/?” asked Ron.
“No, it was the ‘/Risqu?aid’ /this time. In fact, the maid-choker’s in her pocket right now,” Harry replied. “And just to clarify; there’s no paddling in ‘/The Lady and the Pauper’/scenario. You’re thinking of ‘King Harry and the Duchess of Canterbury’ ‘A Long, Cold Night in January’ or ‘The Babysitter’s Reward.’”
“Ah, my mistake,” the red-head said with a smile. “I’ll try to keep them straight.”
“And what did you do to celebrate the great news of another baby?” the blonde asked, already knowing the answer.
“Another sound paddling,” Hermione said with a rosy bloom. Even though Luna could not see them to confirm, she was positive the bloom on her cheeks matched the ruby hue on the brunette's other set of cheeks thanks to two consecutive spanking sessions.
“Well, we’ll just have to celebrate won’t we?” Ron said.
“What should we celebrate? The fact that Hermione’s still a kinky witch or that she and Harry are going to have another child?” asked Luna playfully.
“We can celebrate both as far as I’m concerned,” replied Harry, overjoyed to have another child on the way and deliriously happy that his wife was still so adventurous.
“We’ve reserved a table at The Three Broomsticks for us and our kids,” Hermione said to her friends.
“Great, we can say hi to Hannah Abbott ,” said Ron.
“No, Ronald, Hannah owns the Leaky Cauldron,” Luna corrected. “Katie Bell is the owner of The Three Broomsticks.”
“That’s right. I don’t know why I get those two confused.”
As the two couples left the Hospital Ward, Ron said with a guffaw;“Wow, the ten Potters and six Weasleys, that’s going to one big table.”
“Ow,” exclaimed Harry suddenly.
“What is it dear?” asked Hermione.
“Some damn insect just bit my scar.”
The End
Ending Notes: First and foremost, I’d like to thank my beta, Sasqch for his diligent work. I’d also like to thank Steven Moffat whose creation, “/Coupling,/” I pilfered many of my jokes from. Thanks to Joanne Rowling whose many contradictions, plot holes, dropped plot points, retroactive changes in regards to previously published books, and the blatant character assassinations(of both her creations and her fans) made “Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor” possible. More thanks go out to Ultimate Auror and Brainy Bird who helped with numerous ideas and suggestions.
Most of all, many thanks to all who have read and reviewed. You guys rock.
