The Sweat of a Gladiator
A/N: The fantastic response to Chapter One of this story was as terrifying as it was appreciated…the pressure is really on, now, for the rest of the story not to suck. Hope that I've risen to the occasion with this chapter.
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money being made, etc. etc.
Chapter Two
When Harry, Hermione and Luna walked back into the Headmistress's office they discovered McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey hunched over a document.
McGonagal looked up and noted "Oh, you're back…but where is Miss Weasley?"
Harry and Hermione stole glances at each other before Harry replied. "She went back down to the infirmary to be with Ron and her family."
"Will she be returning then?"
"Erm, no," Harry replied quietly. "We have decided…that is to say, the three of us have decided, to agree to the trade offer."
The Headmistress nodded her head, with an expression that look rather prideful to Harry. She also looked like she wanted desperately to ask which of her students would be the sweat collector. Luna must have picked up on this as well, because out of the blue she said, "They're the shaggers, I'm the scraper."
"Oh, well, I see."
"There has to be verification of their purity," the old hag cackled from her position by the window. "Condition number three on that list."
"Oh, yes, well that makes sense," the Headmistress said tightly. "I'm sure that our school nurse can verify by examination that these young witches are vir…." She stopped in mid-sentence when she spied Hermione looking nervously down at the floor. "Miss Granger, is there a problem?"
Hermione's face turned beet red. "Erm, no, Headmistress….I mean yes, in a way…it's just that…I'm afraid that a physical examination won't provide the kind of proof that the old hag probably expects."
"And why is that?"
"Erm, well…it's rather embarrassing, but I was on ski holiday with my parents, and I had this accident, you see, and one of the bindings gave way and a ski snapped up and hit me hard in the…"
"Oh, I understand," the Headmistress replied tersely. "So you are saying that your hymen was broken during an accident."
Hermione continued to keep her eyes on her shoes, dying from having to talk about this in front of Harry. "Erm, yeah, that's exactly what happened."
Luna stepped up to the front of the Headmistress's desk. "Headmistress, I've got the same problem…last year my hymen broke on accident."
"What happened to you?"
Luna smiled brightly, "On accident I used too much lubricant on the vibrator that I had borrowed from Ginny, and while I was masturbating it slipped down a little too deep and…"
"That's quite enough, Miss Lovegood," the Headmistress admonished. As Harry looked at both of his classmates with gobsmacked amazement, McGonagall turned towards the hag. "I assume that the betrothal spell would be sufficient proof?"
The hag nodded. "That would indeed be adequate." As she raised her wand towards the two girls Minerva shouted, "Oh no you don't." She then turned to Poppy. "Would you please administer the spell?"
As the nurse nodded her head in agreement Harry whispered a question into Hermione's ear. She turned and replied. "It's an ancient spell used back in the days when arranged wizard marriages were brokered. Don't worry, it's safe, and relatively non-invasive."
"Relatively non-invasive?" Harry asked with a bit of alarm. But before he could say anything else, Poppy had cast her spell at the two young witches.
Hermione jumped a bit and let out a small cry of surprise, while Luna twisted her knees together and complained, "Oooh, that's cold!" Ten seconds later, golden circles formed above both Luna and Hermione's heads.
Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Halos," he observed. "Some wizard must have had a sense of humor back then."
The Headmistress turned to the hag. "Yes, well…now that step is out of the way…there's mention in this contract about a gold collection blade. The ones we use here at Hogwarts are all silver…do you have one available?
The hag gasped and snapped her fingers. "Rats…I knew I forgot something on the way here. I'll have to travel back to my hut for one."
"Golden collection blades?" Harry asked a bit warily. "Luna only has to collect the sweat on the outside of my skin, right?"
Hermione laughed at Harry's remark. "Oh don't be silly," she replied. "The blade is dull…just like the ones we use in herbology class to collect tuber pus."
"Oh, great," Harry said sarcastically. "That's a nice touch."
The hag excused herself to floo back to her hovel for the collection device, as well as special specimen bottles and the antidote itself. Once she disappeared into the flames, Hermione asked to look at the quality control measures specified on the reviewed parchment. It didn't take her too long to find something to question.
"What about this condition," Hermione asked. "The one that states that the sweat has to be collected between the time of insertion and time of release?" When Madame Pomfrey confirmed that fact, Hermione looked over towards Harry and frowned. "No offense, Harry, but…" She then turned to the two older witches "You do realize that he is a teenage boy, and that there might not be a lot of time between those two milestones."
"Then Miss Lovegood will have to work fast, won't she?" the Headmistress replied.
"He could always delay his ejaculation with a stamina potion," Luna offered.
The Headmistress shook her head. "A good idea, but farther down the list it states that no magical aids can be used during the procreative act."
"What?" Hermione asked. "No magic involved at all, for either of us? Not even a contraceptive charm?"
"I'm sorry Miss Granger," the Headmistress replied, "But under the terms of the contract those are the requirements. No magic affecting the bodies of either the warrior or the deflowered virgin."
"This is ridiculous," Harry said. "Bad enough that Hermione has to sacrifice her virginity, but now you say she has to run the risk of becoming pregnant?"
"Well, with any luck it won't be an issue," said Poppy. "Simple fertility check will tell us." She waved her wand towards Hermione's abdomen and muttered an incantation.
"Expecto Ovum!"
A silvery mist sprayed out of the wand tip and wrapped itself around her torso like a belt. A few seconds later the mist unwrapped itself and gathered in front of Hermione's waist, taking the shape and hue of two brilliantly golden orbs.
The Headmistress let out a small gasp, as Madame Pomfrey shook her head and sighed.
"Miss Granger, you seem to be at the peak of your fertility cycle," she concluded.
Hermione nodded, sporting a dazed look on her face as she regarded the twin orbs. "That's what I was afraid of. And the fact that there are two eggs means…"
"Means that twins must run in your family," Poppy replied.
"So…so…what are the odds that she'll get pregnant?" Harry asked shakily.
Madame Pomfrey turned towards Harry. "That depends, Mr. Potter, on your virility. The ripest of eggs still needs your input, of course." She pointed her wand towards Harry's crotch, causing him to cross his legs reflexively. "Now, Mr. Potter, no cause for alarm," she said. She then waved her wand (in a pattern that Harry thought was a bit too suggestive) and shouted out the incantation's masculine form:
"Expecto Spermatozoa!"
The sliver of silvery mist that emanated from Poppy's wand did one lap around Harry's waist, then snaked down his leg and disappeared up his trouser leg. A few seconds later a luminescent globe the size of a beach ball shot out of the top of his trousers and began to prance around, patronus style, powered by a meter-long flagellum flapping behind it. The conjured manifestation of a sperm cell stopped in mid-circle, then dove straight towards the golden eggs that were still floating in front of Hermione. The collision produced a blinding flash that forced Harry's eyes shut. When he finally risked opening them up he noticed that the golden eggs had been transformed into images of floating babies, crouched up in fetal positions with thumbs stuck in their mouths.
Harry swallowed down hard on a bit a bile that was trying to force its way up his throat. "Well I guess that answers that question," he said rather nervously.
Hermione, whose eyes had been completely fixed upon the conjurations in front of her, looked up at Harry with an expression on her face midway between panic and awe. She then said very softly, "They're baby girls, Harry."
Luna walked up to Hermione without any pretense or care and ducked down to get an eye-level view of the twins. "Cute kids," she commented, "They'll have Hermione's face and Harry's wild hair."
Headmistress McGonagall snapped out of her own bewildered state and cast a Finite Incantatum spell that banished the conjurations.
"This will only come about if Mr. Potter's, erm…issue…reaches Miss Granger's waiting eggs. The contraceptive charm would create a magical barrier that blocks this occurrence. There are muggle devices that have similar function, are there not?"
Hermione let out a breath and whacked her forehead with the butt of her palm (i.e. the classic "why didn't I think of that?" gesture). "Condoms…of course!" She turned to Madame Pomfrey. "Surely you have some down in the infirmary?"
"Certainly not," replied Madame Pomfrey. "Officially, I am barred from dispensing any type of birth control to students."
Harry snorted. "Okay, what about unofficially?"
The Hogwarts nurse looked nervously over towards her supervisor. "Well, unofficially….and very hypothetically, were a student to ask my advice on such matters…I would tell her that she'd be ill-advised to trust her partner to be safe, and that would go double for using muggle devices."
Luna nodded in agreement. "From what I've heard, nobody uses muggle birth control…even the muggle-born witches take it upon themselves to learn the contraceptive charm from one of the older students."
Harry frowned. "So it would be a waste of time to cast an Accio Trojans spell?
"I'm afraid so," the Headmistress replied. "Best we can do is Accio Parental Consent Form!" When she cast the spell towards a large book sitting on a table in one corner of the office the cover flew open and pages started to flip. Half-way through it stopped, and a single page flew out off the book and into the Headmistress's hand. She looked at it carefully to make sure she had summoned the proper parchment, then reached out and placed it in Hermione's hand.
"Miss Granger, it would appear that a quick trip to a muggle chemist's is in order," she said. "But you'll need your father's permission first."
"What?"
"Your father's permission for you to use birth control, Miss Granger. It's spelled out very clearly on the parchment I just gave you."
"Why would Hermione need permission from her father for me to purchase or use a condom?" Harry asked. "We're both adults in the wizarding world, and she's legally an adult in the muggle world too."
"I am aware of that fact, Mr. Potter," the Headmistress replied primly. "But as you are both still students at Hogwarts…"
"But we aren't attending classes," Harry interrupted.
"That is correct, Harry, but as you will recall the three of you are still registered as students undertaking independent study coursework. As such, you are still subject to the rules of this school, and I am obligated to enforce them, as much as I might wish not to."
"But…but the other girls…they don't get permission slips from their fathers, do they?"
"No, they don't," replied the Headmistress. "But as I am not officially aware that any Hogwarts students is currently using the contraceptive charm, I am not required to ask for permission slips."
Harry shook his head with a rueful, tight-lipped grin. "Plausible deniability combined with `Don't ask, Don't tell."
The Headmistress nodded.
"Can't I get my mother to sign for me?" Hermione asked.
"I'm afraid not, Miss Granger," the Headmistress replied. "Truth be told, it should be the head of the House of Granger that signs, but as that is something quite difficult to determine for muggle families, we are allowed to accept the blessings of a student's father."
"But what about me?" asked Harry.
"Mr. Potter, as Head of the Noble House of Potter you are able to sign for yourself."
"Oh."
"Clock's ticking, Miss Granger," the Headmistress said. "I suggest you bow to the inevitable necessity and take a quick trip to your parents." She then consulted a different book whose pages began flipping on their own until they reached the "G's." Grabbing another piece of paper to fashion into a port key she looked up at Hermione and asked, "Would it be better to send you to your home or to your parent's work address?"
The blood drained from her face, it was all Hermione could do to whisper. "Daddy will be at his office at this time of day."
+++
Five minutes later, in a dental practice located within a well-to-do suburb of London, Roger Granger took a call from his receptionist.
"Dr. Granger," she said, "your daughter is here to see you."
"Hermione?" he asked with amazement. He was up and out from behind his desk and halfway down the hall when he took in, and soon felt, the blur of his daughter's bear hug.
"Daddy, it's so good to see you." Hermione murmured into his shoulder.
Roger looked up from his daughter's embrace and saw that she was accompanied by her friend, Harry Potter. Also with her was the Hogwarts school nurse that he'd met after Hermione's injury at the Department of Mysteries, and another teen-aged girl with stringy blond hair and radishes hanging from her ears. The girl looked rather spacey, the nurse (Pomfrey, he recalled) looked rather grim, and Harry Potter looked terrified.
"What's wrong, honey?" he asked Hermione.
Hermione leaned back so that she could look at her father's face with tear-streaked eyes.
"Well," she began, "unless Harry and I have sex my friend Ron Weasley is going to die, and unless you sign a permission slip you are going to become a grandfather twice over."
"Started beyond belief" was an understated description of Roger Granger's reaction. Having heard fantastically impossible descriptions of magical creatures and happenings from his only daughter before, though, he had a ready-made coping mechanism in place.
He silently counted to ten, and then said, "Go find your mother, dear." As Hermione bounded off towards Emily Granger's office, he ushered her companions into his office, reached inside his desk, and pulled out a bottle of scotch and some glasses.
He poured two-finger's worth of the amber liquid into a glass, then looked down at his watch. "Only ten-thirty," he noted. Looking up and straight into Harry's fear-filled eyes, he chuckled to himself and raised his glass.
"Well, the sun is over the yardarm somewhere, isn't it Harry?"
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