Am I actually updating after all this time? Gasp!

Chapter Forty
My Big Fat Ginger Wedding

"This doesn't really look like a place where wildest dreams can come true," said Hermione.

She had entered a stark white room. From floor-to-ceiling, all four walls were covered in computer monitors. When she drew closer to inspect them, she discovered the monitors were completely filled with text, which contained such disturbing phrases as:

1. McGonagall shivered in pleasure as Mr. Filch's rough, work-worn hands wandered beneath her tartan petticoat.

2. "Admit it, Hagrid," squeaked Dobby, his large round eyes filled with tears. "Admit you were cheating on Dobby with Hedwig!"

3. A blush tinged Draco's pale cheeks. "Of course, Professor Flitwick. I'd be happy to earn some… 'extra credit'."

Hermione was gaping in shock. It only got worse from there. So much worse that she longed to gauge her own eyes out with a dried-up ballpoint pen. "Sweet Merlin's pocket watch! What is this place?"

Suddenly, a perky voice exclaimed, "Like, OMG. What up, Hermione? You look hawt, gurl."

Startled, Hermione turned around and discovered a girl seated in the middle of the room. She was wearing a black T-shirt with the Hogwarts crest upon it. Her shoelaces were patterned with tiny golden snitches and her socks were striped with red, green, blue, and yellow—the colors of the four Hogwarts houses. Three bags of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans sat piled in her lap.

"I—I look what?" stammered Hermione. "Who are you?"

"Duh, I'm the Fangirl," the strange girl replied. "I created the Fanfic."

"What's the Fanfic?"

The Fangirl paused to eat an Every Flavor Bean, which tasted like Neville Longbottom's earlobe. "The Fanfic," she said importantly, "is like, OMG an endless realm of ships, LOL. The OMG most crucial part of any, like, fandom, where LOL anyone can OMG create their own reality, duh."

Hermione stared blankly at the girl. "Um… I don't follow you."

"LOL, it's all about the Alternate Universe, the Mary Sue, the crack ship," said the Fangirl. "It's OMG, a world where parody and super powers and angst all thrive, LOL."

"Still not following. Can you explain it again in plain English?"

The Fangirl popped another bean into her mouth. It tasted exactly like Draco's hair gel. "First of all, duh, I can OMG like show you the infinite possibilities that the Fanfic can provide for your LOL love life, including the most OMG probable ships—"

"I've had enough," Hermione interrupted, fed up with the Fangirl and her indecipherable babble. "I'm getting out of this place!"

The room had two doors. Hermione stared at both for a long moment. One door was marked HIPPOS and the other was marked LEPRECHAUNS. It was in that moment that Hermione realized she had a burning, passionate love for Seamus Finnegan and eagerly rushed through the LEPRECHAUNS door. She found herself in a long, empty hallway. Invisible hands shoved a paper and pen into her hands, while a disembodied voice said:

"Please take a few moments to fill out this brief survey. Thank you for visiting!"

Hermione glanced down at the survey and shrugged. "I've got nothing better to do."

THE SURVEY:

Name: Hermione John Granger

Age: 16

Nickname: Hermy, 'Mia, Herms, The Boobinator

Significant Others: Harry, Ron, Snape, Lupin, Voldemort, Sirius, Neville, Lucius, Draco, Tom Riddle, possibly more that I can't remember off the top of my head

Potato: Fish sticks

Have you ever…

Been in love with a walrus? Not yet.

Kissed a bottle of shampoo? Maybe.

Figured out what the hokey pokey is all about? That's my goal in life!

Are you…

A tuna sandwich? No.

Slightly volcanic? I hope not.

Secretly the love child of Vernon Dursley and Mrs. Norris? EW.

How does…

Cheese affect your life? It's delicious.

Chocolate affect your liver? I don't know. Ask Professor Lupin.

Would you like to…

Row row row your boat, gently down the stream? Not really.

Make out with Dumbledore? Don't tell anyone I said this, but… yes.

Stuff a hedgehog down your pants? I did that once. I'll never do it again!

"Well that was a huge waste of time," said Hermione, tossing aside her completed survey. "And how can I get back to Hogwarts?"

"Follow the spiders!" giggled a disembodied voice.

Sure enough, a trail of spiders was creeping down the hallway, so Hermione shrugged and followed them. The trail seemed to stretch on to eternity, until suddenly the hallway opened up onto the Room of Requirement. The room was currently a bathroom and Dumbledore sat on the toilet, absorbed in the hottest issue of Sexy Seniors Magazine.

Hermione stopped and stared. A blush crept up her face as she tried to avert her eyes from Dumbledore with his trousers down.

"Oopsies!" said Dumbledore. He quickly placed the magazine over his privates. "Young lady, shouldn't you be in class?"

"Y-yes," stammered Hermione, still blushing hotly.

She hurried out of the room, but the image of Dumbledore on the toilet was burned upon her eyelids. Why did it take so long for her to notice that Dumbledore's elderly, slightly wheezing voice could sound so… sultry? Or that his pale, skinny, wrinkled legs could look so… delectable? And that long gray beard was downright delicious!

That night, Hermione scribbled some poetry in her diary:

Dear Albus,
Passion makes me see you in a new light
Oh, why can't you be my heart's delight?
Your twinkling eyes make my heart grow weak
I long for you, but dare not speak

He had wrinkles and bags, bags, bags
Skin that sags, sags, sags
Yeah, I'm weird
Let me see that beard
That beard beard beard beard beard

Albus, dear Albus, you sexy thing
The sight of your beard makes my heart and soul sing
Whenever I see you
My palms are sweaty, knees weak, breathing heavy
There's fantasies in my mind already, mom's spaghetti
But woe is me
For I am so young
And would love to lay hands on your wrinkled bum

Finally she couldn't take it anymore. She had to make that wrinkled old headmaster hers, or else she would explode!

"Dumbledore's gay, you know," said Blaise, who had been reading over Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione immediately stopped writing in her diary. She clenched her quill so hard, it snapped right in half. "What?"

"Yeah, he's extremely gay. One time he caught sight of McGonagall's you-know-what and the shock nearly killed him. He was in the Hospital Wing for three days."

"Impossible!" cried Hermione, feeling her heart start to shatter.

"Believe it, sister," said Oliver Wood, who was randomly in the Gryffindor dormitory floating on his broomstick. "I show up for extra credit with Dumbledore every Saturday, if you know what I mean."

"But you don't even go here anymore!"

"Shh!" said Oliver Wood. "Don't tell Albus!" And he flew away for an extra-special "lesson" in the headmaster's office.

"Well, if Dumbledore's gay, I guess it's about time I also switched teams," said Hermione. "Blaise, would you do me the honors and be a girl for the evening?"

Blaise fluttered her eyelashes seductively at Hermione. "I'd be happy to!"

The next morning, in the Great Hall, Hermione was shocked to discover Harry seated at the Gryffindor table.

"But Harry! I thought you got re-sorted into Slytherin!"

"Silly Hermione," said Harry. "What are you talking about? I've always been in Gryffindor."

"I guess my trip back in time must have worked," said Hermione.

"Or maybe you're just crazy," the ghost of Nearly-Headless Nick whispered in her ear.

Dumbledore was currently holed up in his office for another session of "extra credit" with Oliver Wood, so Remus set down his cheese grater, tasted the giant block of mozzarella he'd been shredding, and stood up.

"Everyone, can I have your attention please?" Remus shouted. "I have a very important announcement to make!"

"You stole the cookies from the cookie jar?" Sirius guessed.

"No, Sirius."

"You let the dogs out?"

"No, Sirius."

"Oops, you did it again?"

"Shut up, Sirius!" Remus paused for breath, tasted another morsel of cheese, and turned to Harry with heartfelt tears in his eyes. "Harry, this concerns your future. A long, long time ago, in a house far, far away, your parents sat down and made an agreement. Against my better judgement, I gave them my blessing and added my signature as a witness. I'm not proud of what I did, Harry, but it's time you learned the truth! The document we signed was a marriage contract!"

"Merlin's G-string," Harry groaned. "Just when I thought my life couldn't get any crazier."

"That's not even the worst part," said Remus. "Your parents decided that your future spouse should be someone of the Purest magical blood, so they drew up a contract with a Pureblood family."

Draco, seated at the Slytherin table, nearly choked on his pumpkin juice. His pale face reddened into a blush as he cast sneaking glances in Harry's direction.

Harry gaped at Remus in horror. "Did you say a Pureblood family?"

"Yes, Harry. The Weasleys!"

It was Ginny's turn to blush and glance at Harry. "Oh, goody. When's the wedding?"

"Today!" announced Mrs. Weasley, bursting into the Great Hall with an entire pack of redheads trailing behind her. "Harry, dear, I picked out this lovely green tie for you to wear. It will go perfect with your eyes! And for you, Ron, I have to give you your grandfather's old tie. It's the same one your father wore to his wedding. I know it's a bit old and shabby, but you're still going to make a very handsome groom!"

Harry stared. Ron stared. Ginny stared. Draco stared. Even Aunt Petunia stopped washing the dishes and stared.

"Ron?" cried Ginny. "I thought Harry was getting married to me!"

"Of course not," said Mrs. Weasley. "You weren't even born yet when the marriage contract was signed. I always knew, even when he was a baby, that poor Ron would have to settle for second-best all his life, so your father and I agreed to betroth him to a rich family. Of course, we always expected Harry's parents to produce a girl at some point, but oh well. Harry's always been like a son to me. I'm so glad we can finally make it official!"

Harry and Ron continued to stare, this time at each other. Remus watched them with interest, shoving handfuls of cheese into his mouth like it was popcorn.

"No offense, Harry, but you're my best friend," said Ron. "I just can't bring myself to look at you that way!"

"Same here," said Harry. "No offense, but the thought of locking lips with you makes me want to puke for a thousand years."

Mrs. Weasley pretended she didn't hear either of them. "Now, now, boys. It's time to get into your wedding suits! Ron, we had to rent yours from Mr. Filch. I know it's a bit moldy and covered in cat hair, but it was such a bargain! Once you become a Potter, sweetie, you'll be able to afford all the nice suits you want."

"I will?" said Ron, suddenly becoming starry-eyed.

"Of course," said Fred and/or George. "Harry's rolling in money!"

"Then let's get this wedding started!" cried Ron.

The Great Hall became absolutely flooded with Weasleys. There were so many Weasleys, it looked like the room was on fire from all the flaming red hair. Draco, who was horribly allergic to poverty, developed a rash from being exposed to so many poor people and had to go to the Hospital Wing. Dumbledore came wandering into the hall with a smile on his face, having enjoyed his lesson with Oliver's wood—I mean, Oliver Wood—and agreed to perform the wedding ceremony.

Hermione took one look at Dumbledore and realized she still longed to run her hands through his long, luxurious beard. He probably washed it with L'Oreal, because he was worth it!

"Ron, dear, don't forget to put on your wedding shoes," said Mrs. Weasley.

The shoes she handed him were so old and patched-up, they hardly resembled shoes at all. They smelled exactly like the Dursleys' bathroom after Dudley clogged the toilet.

"Mum, what in the name of Merlin's salad shaker are these?" demanded Ron, gagging.

"Oh, Ron. Don't make that face. You know we have to make do with second-hand! Those shoes belonged to your great-great-great-great-great-grandfather. They've survived over a hundred years!"

"Can't I just use Harry's money and buy a new pair?"

"Not until you're married! It's in the contract."

As various Weasleys ran around the Great Hall, setting up decorations for the wedding, Harry became increasingly disturbed. He watched Fred and/or George shooting fireworks at the Slytherin table, while Ginny looked incredibly sulky and refused to get into her second-hand bridesmaid dress. Ron, on the other hand, had a dreamy look in his eyes while he contemplated Harry's riches.

"Let me get this straight, Ron," said Harry. "You're agreeing to all this marriage nonsense so you can get your hands on my money?"

"Well of course," said Ron, who had absolutely no problem with being a gold digger. "We're both getting someone out of it, Harry. I finally get to be rich and you get to have a family!"

Harry suddenly became starry-eyed. "Y-you're right."

"I know. There's no family bigger than mine!"

"You've got that right!" chorused the ten thousand Weasleys who were squeezed into the Great Hall.

"Let's get this wedding started!" cried Harry.

The two enthusiastic grooms stood before Dumbledore, dressed in their wedding attire, and looked deeply into each other's eyes while they each thought of their own personal gain.

"If anyone out there feels the need to object to this marriage, please speak now," said Dumbledore, "or forever hold your peas."

"It's peace," whispered McGonagall.

"Or forever hold your cheese."

McGonagall smacked herself in the forehead.

Ginny opened her mouth to object. Draco, who had somewhat recovered from his trip to the Hospital Wing, also opened his mouth to object.

But someone else beat them to it.

"I OBJECT!" shouted the mysterious girl who came bursting into the Great Hall.

The newcomer had long, flowing black tresses that rippled down her back like silky midnight. Her eyes were luminous emerald orbs that sparkled like a grassy meadow covered in morning dew. The mysterious girl wore a pendant around her neck shaped like a golden lightning bolt.

"Who are you?" demanded Dumbledore.

"My name is Jessica Ashley Potter," said the girl. "I'm Harry's twin sister!"

The beginning of this chapter was inspired by Matrix Reloaded. Hermione's poems make references to Sisqo's "Thong Song" and Eminem's "Lose Yourself." If you caught these references, you get ten thousand gold stars!