Hermione's Hen Party

Hermione's Hen Party

May 2001

Six women sat around a table loaded with empty wine bottles and dessert dishes in a private room at the back of a restaurant in muggle London. The other patrons could overhear genial chatter that was occasionally interrupted by raucous laughter as the night wore on. It was late in the evening, and the rest of the restaurant was nearly empty, but their little hen party was still going strong.

"You know, in my country, a virgin witch's mother or oldest sister would spend this night before her wedding carefully explaining the act of love, then consoling the poor girl by plying her with brandy or calvados," Fleur laughed. "I presume none of us need perform this duty for you, Hermione? Surely there are books on the subject, and you have read them all thoroughly?"

Hermione looked as though she would have loved to crawl under the table at the moment. Ginny smiled sympathetically while the rest of the women laughed along with Fleur.

"I'm not answering that," Hermione croaked, then took a large gulp of wine.

"It's nothing to be afraid of, my dear," Fleur pressed. "Ron is a Weasley male. Whatever skills he may lack from inexperience will most assuredly be counter... counter... outshined by other generous familial endowments." A very femininely delicate belch followed this pronouncement.

"Good lord!" Angelina cried. "I'm afraid to ask how you think you know this."

Fleur smiled, waving her hand dramatically as she spoke. "We live in modern times, cheri! I am not ashamed to tell you Bill was not my first. I knew my way around a boudoir well before I settled down. But, of course, a lady never admits to any definitive number, nor would she name names."

"The lady should feel free to shut up at any time," Ginny grumbled, sending a dark look across the table at her sister-in-law.

"Ah, poor little sister! Forced to look outside the family for her satisfaction. What a shame, in an odd sort of way," Fleur giggled, indelicately dancing around the suggestion of incest. "I feel sorry for you."

"Don't bother," Ginny snapped indignantly. "I assure you it isn't necessary."

"Ooh! Wondering if you picked the wrong one of the pair now, Hermione?" Angelina teased, tapping Hermione on the shin with her foot. "Apparently, those pretty green eyes aren't the only thing Harry's got going for him!"

Before a mortified Hermione could answer, Fleur chimed in again.

"No, no, Hermione! Don't listen to her! I tell you - Weasleys have more to offer than the majority of men you'll ever meet," Fleur insisted. "On top of this they are adventurous, attentive, and have an enormous appetite for sex. Well, I mean, you've seen them eat at the table, haven't you? And the virility - mon Dieu! Unquestionable! Seven siblings! Two of them have already spawned five children in four years!" she cried, patting her own swollen stomach.

A waiter came into the room then and asked if they needed anything. Angelina ordered another bottle of wine while Fleur batted her eyes at the poor fellow. He turned around and stumbled back out the way he came.

"Bah!" Fleur cried in disgust. "No man will look at me, now I am so fat!"

"He practically tripped over his tongue, Fleur!" Angelina cried, disputing her assertion.

Fleur ignored her. "At least Bill still makes love to me! Even though I am such a whale!" she whined, sticking her lower lip out petulantly. "Thank God he is so strong to hold me up!"

"He... holds you up?" Angelina cried, unable to master her lurid curiosity. "Even now? That's a bit..."

"Hard to believe?" Hermione said, smirking dubiously. "Not to mention nearly physically impossible," she added sharply.

Fleur nodded. "Like I said, he is very strong. Tell her, Annie."

The table turned curious, widened eyes toward Annie.

"I... uh... don't know anything about Bill, Fleur," she stammered.

"This is not what I mean, of course!" Fleur huffed, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "Is George not so strong as Bill, then? Maybe it is the wolf, eh?" Fleur asked innocently. "Or did he not like to love you when you were fat?"

Annie coughed uncomfortably. This was hardly a subject she ever spoke so blatantly about. But something within her bristled at Fleur's implication that George was anything less than his brother. Her sister-in-law had been accurate in every other detail - although Annie reckoned she couldn't really comment as to the size factor, having only ever been in the presence of one naked man in her life.

She wasn't about to let George's talents go questioned, however; especially by Fleur. Annie plucked up her courage in order to defend her husband's prowess, which was no less than anything Fleur was claiming on Bill's behalf. Family pride, after all.

"George is a very loving, inventive fellow," she replied obliquely. She felt the flare of a raging blush - the sort Fred used to be able to elicit at will with a similar sort of teasing - light up her face. Damn it.

Several of the table chuckled.

"And maybe you might want to ease off the wine, Fleur," Annie suggested, looking to change the subject. "It goes against most medical advice for pregnant women to imbibe, you know."

Fleur expressed her disdain for Annie's suggestion with a rude raspberry noise. "I am part veela, as is my daughter. Mere alcohol cannot harm us. And if she doesn't like it, she can get the hell out of me already!" Fleur cried in frustration.

Annie patted her sister-in-law's shoulder in sympathy. Fleur was already five days past her due date and made utterly miserable by this fact.

"All the same, I think you've had enough," Angelina concurred, moving the open bottles to the far end of the table, away from Fleur.

Fleur muttered something under her breath in French, but made no move to argue further.

"Can we please talk about something else, now?" Hermione begged.

"Like what? The current state of cauldron bottoms?" Angelina teased.

"Or the latest quidditch standings?" Ginny added.

Hermione grimaced. "Oh, God! Not quidditch, please! I'll get enough of that starting tomorrow!"

"Did you really not know Barcelona was hosting the European Cup qualifying tournament this month?" Annie exclaimed. "Look, for your own good, you've really got to pay closer attention to the calendar! Let this be a lesson to you!" Annie playfully chided her almost-sister-in-law.

"He promised me Spain in the spring!" Hermione cried defensively. "Ron said we'd lie all day on the beach, and then... then celebrate all night. I didn't realize he meant we'd be cheering at a bloody quidditch match!" Hermione blushed.

"Beware of Weasley men making promises," Angelina said in a low, mock-warning voice. "Especially when a snitch is involved."

"Can't trust 'em as far as you can throw 'em," Annie agreed with a wink. "Except when it really counts," she added with an encouraging smile for Hermione.

"It won't be so bad," Ginny assured her friend, draping an arm about her shoulders. "It's still Barcelona, after all. And isn't there some famous library there? That should make you happy."

Annie smiled to herself. Only Hermione might find consolation in the thought of spending any part of her honeymoon in a library....

Hermione was just about to begrudgingly nod when she was interrupted by another one of her future sisters-in-law.

"Bill is absolutely unsurpassed at cunnilingus," Fleur exclaimed out of the blue, slightly slurring her words.

"WHAT!?!" the entire table erupted in unison.

"It was all that time he spent in Egypt, before the war," Fleur explained with a casual wave of her hand. "Some Egyptian witch taught him, claiming it was all part of learning how to 'fuck like a pharaoh.' I really do owe her a debt of gratitude, I suppose," she added with a chuckle.

"And that statue of Min - you know, the one in our bedroom - it really is a stunning likeness! I'm telling you, Hermione - just be patient with our young Ron! You won't regret it!" Fleur counseled her.

"I think I'd like to go home now," Hermione squeaked.

"Maybe it's time for Phlegm to go home," Ginny growled.

"Lighten up, Ginny. Sex talk is what happens at one of these things. And it's just coincidence that half of us here are screwing one of your mob of brothers," Angelina teased. "Myself excluded, of course."

"I think I'll be skipping mine, then," Ginny chuckled.

"Oh, no, you won't!" Hermione cried. "If I have to suffer through it..."

"Well, pardon us, you little swot!" Angelina cried, mildly offended. "Sorry you're so miserable!"

"No, it's not that, Angelina!" Hermione rushed to say, mortified once more. "I appreciate the effort, really."

Angelina harrumphed, but gave her friend a half smile anyway.

Hermione sighed and hung her head. "I guess it's just... the prospect of tomorrow is... nerve-wracking," she stammered, sounding increasingly defeated as she spoke.

Looks of confusion and concern filled the table.

"What's the matter, Hermione?" Luna asked softly, resting her hand on Hermione's shoulders. She'd been rather quiet for most of the evening up to now.

"Nothing's really the matter, I suppose. It's just... such a... massively big... thing!" Hermione sighed, struggling for words.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you!" Fleur cried, pounding her hands on the table in a dramatic way.

"I don't mean that!" Hermione spat. Then she looked pleadingly toward the other women at the table. "I mean marriage. It's so traditional and weighted down with old-fashioned baggage. I've always thought of myself as an independent, self-sufficient person. And now... as of tomorrow... I'll have... a husband."

"Who happens to be Ron," Annie said softly, patting Hermione's hand resting on the table. "The man you love, and someone who thinks the sun rises and sets with you."

"Your marriage will be what the two of you make of it," Angelina added confidently. "It doesn't come with a set of rules. You make your own rules."

Hermione sighed, unconvinced.

"Is there... someone else?" Luna asked cautiously. "Viktor, maybe?"

Oh, that's right! Annie recalled suddenly. George had mentioned something about Hermione's brief liaison with the infamous Viktor Krum.

"What!? No!" Hermione cried. "Of course not! What in the world would ever lead you to think...?"

"But... you did kiss him, I remember. I saw you in the rose garden, the night of the Yule Ball," Luna said.

Ginny had to bite her lips to prevent herself from smiling broadly. She apparently knew Luna had Hermione dead to rights, and the troublemaker within her was delighted.

Hermione huffed. "Well, I mean... of course I've... kissed... other boys before!" she spluttered. "But nothing serious..."

"And why shouldn't you enjoy yourself!?" Fleur declared, interrupting Hermione. "We are modern women! None of this prudish pretense of virginity on the wedding night! How ridiculous!"

"Not... so ridiculous, really," Hermione mumbled quietly.

But the rest of the table hadn't heard her over their laughter. "Speaking of kissing other boys.... I've just got to ask you, Annie."

"Ask me what?" Annie giggled.

"Did you ever... with Fred?"

"Did I ever what with Fred?" Annie demanded, suddenly sober as a judge.

Angelina shrugged. "Kiss him, I suppose."

"No!" Annie proclaimed decisively. "Fred was my friend. And George's brother, Ange."

"How would you know, for sure?" Fleur asked. "They certainly enjoyed playing jokes like that on people, I remember."

Annie snorted. She was certain Fred would have known better than to even try it. If the mere idea of kissing her hadn't thoroughly disgusted him first, that is. And George would have pounded him to a pulp for even attempting such a thing. "Fred and George tried to fool me a million times when we were kids, but never succeeded," she announced with utter confidence.

"But how do you know?" Hermione asked. "They were identical - even Molly couldn't tell them apart!"

It struck Annie that Hermione seemed oddly very curious about the matter. Or maybe she was simply grateful for the opportunity to deflect the focus from herself.

Annie shrugged. "I always could. The eyes... their faces are just... different. And their voices are completely distinct. If I was ever confused for a second - like if I was blinded or something - the instant one of them spoke a word, I'd know."

"Maybe you only think you know," Angelina challenged her smugly.

"No, it's true," Luna chimed in. "Fred and George were very different, even before George lost his ear. And I thought Fred was a very good kisser, Angelina. Didn't you? Though I never kissed George, so I suppose I can't really give an accurate comparison of the two."

To describe the table as profoundly gobsmacked would have been a gross understatement. Mouths were agape, eyes widened, and bodies were frozen.

Hermione managed to overcome her shock first. "You... you dated Fred, Luna?" she stammered, shaking her head slightly.

"No, I wouldn't really call it dating," Luna explained in her dreamy, sing-song voice.

"Just what would you call it, then?" Angelina asked, stunned.

Luna shrugged. "We met up a few times," she explained as if such a bombshell was the most routine, everyday subject in the world. "It was never a planned thing, really. Once in the Forbidden Forest, we ran into each other. Then another time in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom."

"What was Fred doing in a bloody girl's toilet?" Ginny demanded, sounding dubious.

Luna smiled. The memory very obviously gives her enjoyment, Annie reckoned.

"He said he wanted to know why Hermione and Harry and Ron were so interested in it, spending so much time in there over the years," Luna replied. "Then he said if the three of you were doing what the two of us were doing, he could finally understand the attraction. Fred could be really sweet, sometimes."

Hermione blanched, then took a big gulp of wine, emptying her glass. "I was not...! I would never...!"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Hermione," Luna said calmly. "Harry and Ron are both very attractive fellows."

Hermione spluttered, unable to summon words to defend herself, while Angelina and Annie laughed at the ridiculousness of the implication.

"Did you kiss them as well, then?" Ginny cried, nearly sounding in a panic.

Ooh, Harry! Watch out! Things would not go well for him if Luna ratted him out in the next moment, Annie reckoned. Over the years of their courtship, Ginny had revealed herself to be terribly prone to jealousy where Harry was concerned.

Luna was thoughtful for a moment. "No. I don't remember ever kissing either of them."

"Is it that hard to remember them all?" Angelina cried in disbelief.

"Well, I am a little bit intoxicated right now," Luna said, beaming a smile. "So yes, my memory is a bit fuzzy. Or maybe it's the wrackspurts again." She swatted at the air around her head. "Let's see... there was Fred, and Lee...."

"Lee!?!" Angelina hissed, aghast.

Luna turned to face Angelina, apparently baffled by her reaction. "He was very brokenhearted, the night of the Yule Ball. I felt so sorry for him. You really shouldn't have gone to the ball with Fred that night, Angelina."

Angelina bristled. "I went with the bloke who had the nerve to ask me," she grumbled defensively.

But Luna had moved on. Dreamily gazing above their heads, she continued her recitation. "And there was Seamus, Blaise..."

"You kissed a Slytherin!?" Hermione screeched.

Luna turned a patient gaze toward Hermione. "I'm not so judgmental as you, and prefer to make my decisions based on an individual's attributes rather than house affiliation. He did not turn out to be nice, or a very good kisser, though," she added absently.

"What did you expect?" Ginny asked.

Luna almost looked irritated. "I'm not a preconceived-notions sort of person, Ginny. I did not 'expect' anything."

Ginny smiled in wry amusement. "Right. Do go on."

Luna sighed. "Pretty much every Ravenclaw boy - a bit of intellectual discussion leading up to the kissing is very nice, I find."

"Every one?" Ginny asked, sounding put out. "Including Michael Corner?"

Apparently Ginny's jealousy is not confined to Harry, Annie realized with amusement.

Luna's mouth screwed itself into a mildly impatient expression. "Not while you and he were dating, dear. Nor did I kiss Dean or Neville while you toyed with them, waiting for Harry to notice you."

Annie cringed. Luna was proving herself an amazingly keen observer. Was she oblivious then to the reactions she was producing in the women around her - or just naturally foolhardy? Annie wondered.

Ginny was getting angrier by the second. "I've never toyed with anyone!" she snapped.

"No? What were you doing, then?" Luna asked with seemingly innocent curiosity.

"I was... I was trying to move on," Ginny stammered, suddenly very uncomfortable.

Luna hummed thoughtfully, considering her answer. "Not doing a very good job of it, were you? Seems a bit cruel, really, in hindsight. You still loved Harry, but pretended to be interested in other boys. If it was me, I would have waited for him more faithfully. But all's fair in love and war, I suppose."

Ginny sniffed, upset at being called out for her teenage romantic escapades. "Yes, well... I remember your behavior during the war. Every boy in the hideout room knew where to go to find a bit of comfort," she lashed out.

A bright, genuine grin spread across Luna's face. "Thank you, Ginny! That's very kind of you to say!"

Ginny's jaw dropped, stunned her insult had somehow been twisted into a compliment by her intended victim.

Luna pressed on, though, lost in a nostalgic recollection. "I tried my best to soothe their hurts; to comfort their fears; to remind them that love and tenderness were worth fighting for. I know you remember how very dark and scary those times were, Ginny. That was almost the worst part, I think, when the Snatchers took me from the train at Christmas. I felt badly for my father, of course. But it was my friends at Hogwarts - the ones still fighting without me - that I missed the most."

The table was quiet as everyone considered Luna's revelations.

"You're right, Luna. About love... and tenderness," Annie agreed softly. "That's what kept us together through the war - what kept George alive after the final battle, you know."

Annie looked at each of the women surrounding her, nearly every one of them her chosen family, in the eye as she spoke. "Looking back now, it seems so utterly stupid, so unforgivably reckless, what we did. He married me anyway, knowing full well we'd both be killed if they ever discovered us. Then he was so happy when we found out I was pregnant right before the final battle, so excited about starting a family... ignoring the fact our half-blood children would be marked for death, too. He refused to be afraid of them, refused to let them dictate who he would love."

Annie paused to wipe a few rogue tears from her cheeks. "And then... when we lost Fred... the knowledge of the twins on their way kept him going. He lived for them."

"And for you," Angelina added, squeezing Annie's shoulder. "Family's always meant everything to George."

Annie nodded. "We lived for each other, yes." She turned her gaze to Hermione. "That's what a marriage is about, Hermione."

"I'm ashamed of it," Angelina murmured, hanging her head and sniffling a bit. "Ashamed it took a bloody war for me to see how wonderful Lee is. I don't regret much in my life, but you're right, Luna. I should have seen Lee's worth sooner."

Annie hugged her friend's shoulders. "I know he thinks you're worth the wait, Ange."

I'd like to propose a toast," Luna announced, filling a few glasses with the last dregs of wine. "To the dear friends and sisters assembled here. May we all be blessed with happiness in love, peace in life, and joy in marriage! To love... and tenderness!"

"Hear, hear," the table concurred, clinking glasses and echoing her sentiments.

"That was beautiful, Luna! Thank you!" Hermione choked, dabbing at tears on her cheeks.

"It was my pleasure, Hermione," Luna replied with a soft smile. Suddenly, her face grew utterly serious. "Now, what are your plans to keep the nargles at bay tomorrow? They absolutely adore wedding cake, you know. I could suggest a few spells, if you like....

Hermione smiled back, throwing her arms around Luna, startling her. "That's so very kind of you, Luna!" she cried.