Guard Dogs

By: Banana Flavored Eskimo

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

La Push.

It was a small town that had one supermarket, one school, one drugstore, pretty much one of everything a small town would need.

The population was even smaller coming at less than 600 and it was one of those places where everyone knew everyone and their business whether you liked it or not.

Because it was such a small place, visitors were a rarity. Why stop by a small reservation that was out of the way from any major highway and home to a handful of people that rarely left? It was one of those places where you were born, bred and buried at.

Therefore, seeing a rowdy group of well dressed young men - correction, over-privledged young men given the khaki shorts and Aston Martin's, as in more than one - roll into the one small diner was definitely cause for gossip amongst the little old ladies that salivated over small town drama like this.

Add to that that, they were all rather pale and sporting sweaters tied around their polo's and well, it was obvious that they were not local.

If it wasn't the sweater that gave it away, it had to be the skin tone. La Push was a Native American Reservation and the inhabitants all had deep skin tones of various shades from a nice sun kissed golden to a rich russet. Inky black hair and deep brown eyes were the norm here and seeing anything other always stuck out like a sore thumb.

There was only one other person that did not share that same color scheme, but she had married into the family so to say and the locals adored her and her charming little accent that spoke of lands far across the sea that many of them would probably never see because people in La Push had roots and once you had roots it was hard to leave.

Sue Clearwater, a woman that was born, bred and would be buried on these grounds, was a stunning lady despite approaching her mid-sixties. She had that same rich russet skin and dark eyes that were common around the town, but her eyes held wisdom and kindness. And her skin, although wrinkled, looked to be creased from many years of smiling. She was a stunner and her second husband, retired Police Chief Swan, was a lucky man envied by many.

"Sue?" There came that musical lifting accent that stood apart and yet charmed everyone on the reserve.

Sue smiled, the corners of her dark eyes crinkling with happiness that showed a life well-lived. "Piping hot tea, lose leaf and allowed to steep for exactly ninety seconds. And I made sure to add the milk after. The pot was made exactly 3 minutes ago so it's still fresh."

"You, my love, are absolutely brilliant," replied that exotic tone with absolute adulation.

Sue laughed as she looked at the one person in her hometown that stuck out like a sore thumb.

Hermione Jean Granger came waltzing into their lives seemingly out of nowhere some eighteen years ago and she never left. Despite not being born and bred in La Push, she would most definitely be buried there. She was all peaches and cream complexion and barely stood at 5'2" with gentle curves and a wild mane of honey curls. Her eyes were a warm shade of hazel, the type you'd probably see on a procelin doll and coupled with rosy cheeks and cupid bow lips and that girl was practically everything that a regular La Push native was not.

However, despite that cultured accent that spoke of an upbringing that probably cost a lot of money, because that was something you just couldn't hide, she was sweet and humble and there were many men that were keen on the woman despite her being closer to forty and not looking a day over twenty-five.

Sue wondered what was her secret, but Hermione would just smile that secret smile of hers. The one that caused her cheeks to dimple and her hazel eyes to twinkle and she'd swear that it was the tea that Sue had painstakingly learned to make herself in order to partake in this magic fountain of youth that this woman seemed to be drinking from.

Hermione was the type of woman that drew a lot of attention and Sue was seeing that attention was being given by those young men that also stuck out like a sore thumb.

"British?"

Sue hid a grin as she settled back to enjoy the show that was sure to follow. Judging from the rest of the patrons at the diner, they knew the song and dance by now, but it never ceased to entertain.

Hermione, ever the gracious woman she was, simply turned on her stool and offered the young man and his friends a polite smile. "Yes. London."

"My father has business in London. I'll be going there to learn the ropes so I can take over for him in the near future," offered another, his sparkling white teeth appealing to Hermione's background with her parents being dentists in upscale Kensington. Yet, it seemed false and lacked the certain charm she was so used to seeing on a regular basis.

She sipped at her tea and offering a non-commital hum, but honestly she was already bored of the conversation.

"So what brings you to the middle of nowhere?" Asked another young man.

There were four of them in total. Almost cookie cutter in their appearance with the same blindingly white teeth, sweater and khaki combo and pale skin that was so similar to her own. It was odd for her to think of her own skin tone as rather foregin, but given that she had been living in La Push for so long she supposed it was only natural.

The leader, because she had seen enough of his type in primary, was standing in front and leaning rather cockily against the counter. He offered what he thought was a charming grin. She had to hand it to him, he was handsome certainly, but it was all superficial. His eyes, a dull shade of blue, were raking over her form and rather focused on her chest. Honestly, what was it with men and breasts?

Then again, she could be a bit vain and admit to herself she had a rather great pair. Ginny certainly expressed her envy over the years. Then again Ginverva Weasley was rather blunt about everything so it was no surprise that she would talk about 'Hermione's fabulously perky tits,' as the redhead bemoaned last Christmas, much to the embarrassment of her mother and husband - who still thought of her as a sister.

"Tim, go on and offer her a ride in the Aston," urged another replica, this one with brown eyes and brown hair.

Tim, as what his mates called him, smiled what he must have thought to be a winning smile. Hermione thought he looked like a twit. "How about it beautiful? Care to take a ride and get out of nowhere and go somewhere?"

Hermione delicately placed the cup down on her saucer and simply regarded the group of young men before her.

"Boys," she began, because they were most definitely that: boys. "I appreciate the offer, but disparaging a lady's home and looking down on others is not a way to charm a woman. In addition, I'm married."

The men, Tim included, were surprised. "Married," echoed another.

"Yes. Married," she confirmed.

"To a guy here?" Asked Tim rather dubiously.

Hermione blinked. Tim was beginning to toe a dangerous line and she hoped that despite his rather condescenig tone that he would not continue that line of thought.

Tim swaggered, he actually swaggered, closer to the petite brunette and had the audacity to reach out and touch one of her curls. And he would have to, if Hermione hadn't interecepted his advance and slapped the offending hand away. "You do not want to do that."

Sue blew out a long breath. "Listen to her boy. You definitely do not want to do that," she warned.

You see, despite Hermione being a gorgeous woman, men around these parts knew that she was off-limits. If she didn't scare you, then her 6 guard dogs would.

"What's going on here?"

Ah, there was one now.

"Hello Henry," Hermione greeted with a radiant smile.

Henry was a tall and despite being only fifteen, he still had some growing to do if he was going to catch up to his father. Standing at just shy of 6'3", his frame definitely looked to be all man, but his face still bore the tell-tale sign of youth.

And if Henry was around then -

"Mom?"

"Harold darling," said Hermione.

Harold, was the mirror image of his twin with the same large frame and broad shoulders that stood heads above most on the reserve.

The group of men were rather surprised by their appearance. And then another thing seemed to click.

"Mom?" Echoed twit number 3.

Hermione smiled a smile that only a mother could when looking upon her child. The absolutely happiness that radiated from her was telling. Hermione was one proud parent and loved her children dearly. "Yes. Gentlemen," and she used the term loosely, but some manners were hard for her to forget, "may I introduce you to my eldest sons Henry and Harold."

"There's more?" Questioned Tim somewhat in shock given Henry and Harold's gargantuan frames and Hermione's doll-like figure.

"Mom. Mom!"

In came Sirius and Remus.

Sirius was seven and Remus was twelve. Despite their rambunctious attitudes, they loved their mother and were usually on their best behavior around her. In fact, all of Hermione's children adored her and the men in her family did everything in their power to make sure that she was loved and cherished.

Sirius scowled at the group of strangers that stood opposite of his mother. He had seen men come up to his mom a number of times and he did not like it at all.

Remus let out a growl of displeasure. Here we go again. He knew his mother was beautiful. Hell, everyone knew his mother was beautiful and those idiots were trying to chat her up. Well, fuck that noise!

Both Remus and Sirius were rather tall for their age and although they lacked the broad shoulders of their elder brothers, there were signs that they would be following in the twin's footsteps. Already, Remus was beginning to fill out and Hermione knew that with that his appetite would increase tenfold.

"Mama?"

And finally there was PJ. Her little prince. At three years of age, PJ was the baby of the family and her darling little boy. He was the quietest and most serene of the bunch and loved to read like his mother. Despite his namesake, he was definitely his mother's son.

Harold reached down to hold his youngest brother and PJ stared down imperiously at the unknown men bothering his Mama.

Speaking of his namesake…

"Hey there baby girl," rumbled a deep voice that never ceased to make her quiver with desire.

Paul Lahore was a mountain of a man. Standing at 6'8" he towered over his son's and looked like a behemoth next to his very petite wife. He bent over his small wife and brought those large arms of his around her to rest on her hips possessively.

Henry resisted the urge to bar his teeth at the group of fuckers eyeing up his mom. He got it. Harold got it. Fuck, probably even PJ, short for Paul Jr., got it.

Their mom was beautiful. Unfortunately, a lot of douchebags thought that meant they could chat her up. His twin had his hands full holding their little brother and fuck they were lucky for that. Of the two, Harold was the one that took after their dad and liked to punch first and ask questions later.

"So," began Paul as he lazily eyed the boys that looked like they were going to piss themselves, "who are your friends?"

Tim had the smarts to shake his head as he and his friends began to back away. Even without Paul standing there, five boys that looked like they wanted to skin them alive was definitely enough to deter them. Hermione might be hot, but she wasn't worth this.

"Holy shit," breathed one of the other nameless twits.

Hearing a woman says she's married is one thing. Especially when she's a hot little thing like what was right before them, but to see the actual proof that she was not only married but probably a lot older than she looked with five kids to boot was another completely. And make no mistake, those children were hers because even though they all favored their father, each and every single one of those boys had their mother's eyes.

Fuck! This chick has five kids and her husband is some fucking giant!

"We will just get going," stated Tim as he and his friends practically fled from the diner and peeled out of the parking lot in their pretentious cars.

Hermione simply smiled as she took a wriggling PJ from Harold and settled her youngest against her chest. The young boy calmed in his mother's presence and stood up on her lap to give a smacking kiss to her cheek. "Love you."

Paul, the elder, copied his youngest and pressed another adoring kiss to his wife's temple.

Fuck. His wife. He never got tired of saying that. He was a lucky son-of-a-bitch and after sixteen years of marriage he knew it.

Hermione was one hot piece of ass and he was a smug bastard because that woman was his. He knew very well that his pack - well the one's that hadn't imprinted - were a bunch of jealous fuckers that got off on seeing her gardening in her tiny little shorts and tight little tank top. Despite pushing out five kids, the woman still looked the same as when he first met her. All sex and everything perfect.

Thank you witchy genes. He was a lucky and jealous dog when it came to his wife and his son's echoed the later.

They knew damn well that their mom was a MILF and Harold and Henry already broke at least two jaws this year - and it was only early Febrauary - overhearing how some guys in their school would like to 'nail' their mom.

Fuck.

Everyone knew that Hermione was probably the most well guarded woman in all of La Push. Given that she had Paul and his pack mates, but she also had five boys that would fight tooth and nail for that woman because she was amazing and she also protected her boys with everything.

He could clearly remember when Remus was in kindergarten and some little brat had put glue in his hair and the demon hellspawns mom said they probably deserved it. Hermione - his little lioness - pounced on that mother and broke her jaw. Hmm, perhaps that is where the twins got it. I mean, he did like a good fight, but fuck his wife had him beat. That little hellcat was fucking scary and even he knew better than to mess with her.

But fuck if that didn't make her hotter.

That's also how they got Sirius.

After breaking that mom's jaw he couldn't help it and he took his wife when she had come home, her knuckles still bloody and hair all over the place and well nine months later came a Sirius surprise.

So, it was a well known rule that you just don't mess with the Lahote's.

However, every now and then you got some extra brave douche's that liked to push their luck - like the twin's schoolmates. Or out of town pussies that didn't know the rules.

Despite that, rules were quickly laid out and once they got a good look at her guard dogs, well. They were wise and retreated.

Hermione cursed softly causing him to raise a brow and for his boys to hold out their hands.

Yea, those little fuckers were making some serious bank off he and his girl. Damn her for introducing the whole 'pay-a-dollar-everytime-you-curse' rule. She had a mouth almost as bad as him now and because of her, his vernacular expanded to British curses.

Fuck. Vernacular. His general vocabulary also increased due to her. He loved his sexy bookworm.

"What is it baby girl?"

Hermione pouted and fuck him if he still didn't find it sexy after eighteen years.

"My tea is cold," she said forlornly.

Sue simply put down a fresh pot and Hermione practically glowed with adoration. "You, my love, are absolutely brilliant!"

The woman laughed as she stared at the large family and given Hermione's habit of gently caressing her midsection, Sue had a feeling it was going to grow soon. God help those boys if Hermione was finally blessed with a girl. If Paul and his boys were protective of their mother, she could only imagine how it would be with a daughter/sister.

AN: This was not planned at all and I just wrote it in like 15 minutes and posted it right now.

No, I am not dead.

Yes, I have other commitments in life, but I will try to finish what I have started.

It's part of my New Year's resolution for 2018. Finish what you have stared because you do something new. So, I will definitely focus on finishing up the pics that have been in limbo for years now.

No idea when it will be done or if it will be done, but I will do my best.

- Banana Flavored Eskimo