This was my second submission to the HP Canon Summer Fest 2010 at LiveJournal, with the prompt "A vacation gone wrong – then made right again".

I considered adding translations to the Italian bits at the end, but it's just too embarrassing. Go to Google Translate! :)

Huge thanks to exartemarte for reading over and over this story, correcting mistakes and making suggestions so I could be much happier with it (and I am!).

Disclaimer: I obviously didn't create any of the characters, places or magical mentions that follow. It belongs to JK Rowling.

It's hot as hell, honey, in this room. Sure hope the weather will break soon. The air is heavy, heavy as a truck. Need the rain to wash away our bad luck. ~ Electrical storm – U2

The plane finally landed.

Thank heavens! thought Hermione.

'Ron, can you now please release my knee?'

'Sure,' he mumbled.

She looked sideways at him and saw he was as pale as a ghost.

'What is the matter with you, it's just a flight! You fly on brooms, for goodness' sake!'

'It's not that.' He swallowed. 'It's the whole thing. Holidays with your parents, Hermione... Slightly intimidating, don't you think?'

She admitted he was right. Their first holiday away together, and with her parents... In those two years, her parents had had plenty of time to fraternize with Ron and know how they were going. However, actually living together for seven days... She wanted to see it as an opportunity to tease Ron and have a well deserved rest.

Mrs. and Mr. Granger met them halfway to the exit. They looked fresh and eager to see the beauty of Venice, one of the most romantic places on earth according to Hermione. One of the most cultural places on earth according to her parents.

'Enjoyed the trip?' asked Mr. Granger. Then, spotting that Ron looked ready to throw up, he added, 'But this was really short! Are you sick, Ronald?'

'No, not at all.' He attempted a smile. 'I must've eaten something...'

'We'll go to the hotel immediately, then. I reckon you'll be able to use magic there and perhaps get better,' suggested Mrs. Granger.

Hermione chuckled. Her parents' attempts to understand the wizarding world always made her very fond of them.

'That's not how it works, Mum. I think he should lie down, though, so let's go.'

They took the train to Lido and headed to the small, cosy hotel they had booked. The views were spectacular: Hermione's parents could only chat about what they would do next. Ron only nodded, barely listening.

'We booked a double room and two single rooms,' insisted Hermione's father, annoyed at the Muggle receptionist.

'I'm very sorry, signore, but the hotel is full. We will make up for it, but now, just two cameras doppias are all that is left,' the woman replied, in a strong Italian accent.

Mr Granger looked at his wife.

'Dear, they are 20,' she said.

'Precisely!'

'We will work something out. We can conjure a mattress, it's fi—' Ron whispered, turning away from the counter.

'That's not necessary,' Mr. Granger whispered back, rather affronted.

'Dad, please let's sort everything out so Ron can lie down.'

'All right then: you sleep with your mother, Ron and I will share the other room.'

'What? ' Ron exclaimed rather weakly.

'There's no point in doing that, Dad; I think you are overreacting,' complained Hermione, frowning.

'Hermione is right, dear,' third Mrs. Granger, attracting his husband by one shoulder to whisper in his ear: 'You promised to me you would be good.'

His wife gave him a smile that kept winning him over after so many years together. He returned it reluctantly, and had to remember that his daughter, Ron and the receptionist were still waiting for his decision.

They resolved that Ron would sleep on a mattress, which Mr. Granger saw with his own eyes.

That night after dinner, while Hermione and her mother were appreciating the view from the balcony across the landing, Mr. Granger gestured Ron to come into his and Hermione's room.

'Let us make the game clear, Weasley. I promised my wife I would lower my guard, but you will play nicely too. That mattress is for you to stay, not as mere decoration. Is that clear?'

'Absolutely, Mr Granger,' Ron answered, moving back a couple of steps from him.

Hermione found him lying on the bed, covering his eyes with an arm; their luggage was still unpacked. He startled when she closed the door after her.

'I thought it'd be your dad again,' he said, falling on his back again.

'Were you expecting to see him instead?' she asked, smirking. Hermione lay next to him, resting her head on a hand.

'Merlin, no! What's the matter with him?' He looked up at her, wide-eyed. 'He called me "Weasley"!'

'Well, he is only being overprotective about me, you have nothing to worry about,' she replied, chuckling.

'But... we've been together for two years, why now?'

'I don't know, I suppose because he will be actually seeing us together all the time, he's never really thought of what we might do or not when we are alone.'

'Good thing he hasn't,' said Ron, smiling again and pulling her down into a long snog. 'Do we get into bed?'

'You want to sleep already?' asked Hermione breathlessly, brushing locks of hair out of his face.

'You know what I mean.'

Hermione broke apart, sitting straight on the bed and looked at him in reproach.

'Are you serious? Weren't you just talking about what my Dad said?'

'Come on, Hermione; the fact that he forbade me to sleep with you proves that he doesn't ignore what we do,' he said, lowering his voice, as he sat up too. 'We're grown ups, are you going to tell me that you do everything he says?'

'It's not that, Ron, I don't feel comfortable...'

'They are—'

'Separated from us by a wall, nothing else!'

Ron sighed.

'Fine, whatever you want. Let's get into bed anyway; I'm sleepy with all that wine.'

'You'll have to sleep in the mattress, Ron.'

'But we won't do anything! I won't touch you, Hermione, I promise,' he said, even knowing that they could discuss that later.

'Please, Ron.'

Her expression was final, only pleading for him to be understanding.

He finally got to his feet and set to rummage in his suitcase for his pyjamas.

'Let me help you,' she said in a softer tone, retrieving their pyjamas out of piles of clothing. Then she cupped his face on her hands and smiled at him. 'Thank you. You'll see, this will be fun.'

Nothing of what Hermione had had in mind was happening so far. For the past three days, they had visited museums and eaten in elegant cafés in Venice. She had enjoyed it, but Ron... He had not complained, yet that night she knew he needed to talk, or he would explode.

'Did you enjoy the day, Ron?'

'Yeah.'

'A more sincere answer would be really satisfactory.'

Ron was not in the mood to satisfy anybody.

'Why don't you come over here so we can talk properly?'

'Because we aren't supposed to share a bed, remember?'

'Ron…'

'Hermione, you'll have to let me sleep, because tomorrow we'll be up bloody early, getting ready to walk through yet another dusty antiques place.'

'Ron, first of all, please sit up and look at me when you speak!'

He obeyed; his jaw was tense.

'What is the matter with you, or what have I done?'

'Nothing, just... Look,' he sighed, 'this is not my idea of a holiday. I'm not relaxed, at all. All we've done is visit museums. That was everything. I haven't used magic more than inside these four walls. I can't get close to you. I thought I had won your father's approval, but he now treats me as though I was a stranger who wanted to rape his daughter or something. I feel like the three of you are having the time of your lives here, while I'm not. I'm tired.'

'I'm sorry that you feel you're not included in the fun, Ron, when you are supposed to be. And about the museums, they have arranged everything so the cultural part comes first,' Hermione retorted. 'You can put up with it, Ron, you're not a child.'

'I don't think they need to spend that much money on something as boring as that.'

'Oh, so now my family is boring?' snapped Hermione.

'I don't know, am I a child?'

Hermione waved her wand to turn off the lights.

'You're right, we'd better sleep without talking.'

The next morning, they stayed in Lido and went for a stroll around the island, appreciating the villas, the old buildings, the golf courses, the blue Mediterranean extending as far as the eye could see. As they walked, Hermione had her arms folded and barely spoke to Ron. He tentatively passed an arm around her shoulders; she did not take it off nor give any other sign. Ron, who was sorry for not being able to control his irritation the night before, got upset at her seeming indifference to making amends and, releasing her, started walking a few steps ahead.

In the afternoon, it poured with rain. Hermione's parents decided on some reading with fruit drinks at the bar. Ron, with nothing else to do in their bedroom, took his old Flying with the Cannons. Hermione, distressed, watched the drops racing down the glass door.

As the room started growing darker, she spoke.

'I don't want to spend my holidays mad at you.'

Ron closed the book. It was difficult to read in the poor light, so he had long given up. She looked so ethereal against the grey window that he could not help concentrating on her instead, wondering what she was thinking and how she felt, how many times a minute she breathed, as he had learnt to do since they were at Hogwarts.

'Me neither.'

He approached her so quietly that Hermione did not see him coming in the dusk.

'I'm sorry. I do want to have a good time with you and your family, Hermione.'

'I'll make it up for you, I promise.'

He ran a finger across her lips and kissed her, as thunder broke the silence.

'Like, now?'

'No, not now...' She quivered, feeling the soft fabric of her top sliding up her back. 'My parents will be probably ordering dinner.'

'They can do without us for a moment,' Ron replied, driving his kisses all along her collarbone and attracting her body closer to him.

'Ron... I mean it...'

'Hey... you're not wearing anything under the top?'

'It doesn't go well with a bra, that's all... Now, please, just let go...'

'Don't beg me, Hermione, when you're already moaning,' he said with an accomplice smile.

'I haven't moaned.' Hermione pulled him apart, looking serious.

'I just heard—'

They were close now to the wall that separated them from the Grangers' room; Hermione gestured him to be quiet and listened.

'Are you eavesdropping?' asked Ron, incredulous. 'Do you want an Extendable Ear?'

Hermione waved her hand frantically to shut him up and gasped.

'Ron, take me out of here.' she whispered.

'What—?'

'Put your hands on my ears and take me out of here, my parents are doing it next door!'

Splitting his sides laughing as quietly as he could, he took her hand and dragged her out of the room. Ordering dinner, yeah.

Bad idea, thought Hermione, as she waited in the hall of the "Ministero della Magia", in Rome. Can this get any worse?

That day, she had suggested taking a ride in a gondola across the Grand Canal. Her parents loved the idea: they told her and Ron about the time they had planned on coming to Italy with only that purpose, when contractions had started and their trip had been to the hospital instead, where Hermione was born.

Well, she had no recollection of how on earth Ron managed to fall off the boat. But he did. And he used magic to pull himself out of the water and back into the boat. The gondolier saw him. An Italian Auror saw him, too. They ended up in Rome, leaving her confused parents behind and the gondolier with his memory fixed.

Rome is really nice. We should come here next time.

Meanwhile, Ron was showing his Auror identification and contacting his superior from London.

At last he came out of the office, muttering under his breath.

'Let's go.'

He took Hermione's hand, then saw her frustrated expression.

'Hey, I'm sorry! I was drowning, it was instinct! What would you do?'

'Ron, it's not a question of what I might do. You're an Auror; I don't know what I would have done, but you need to remember that you are surrounded by Muggles! Now even my parents are involved; I was questioned because they are Muggles and they saw you too... I had to persuade the Aurors not to obliviate them!'

'Okay, so you're basically saying that I should have drowned rather than do magic in front of Muggles. I get it. I can go back to the hotel on my own.'

And he Disapparated.

After checking her parents were all right and giving some explanations, Hermione did not waste time knocking at her bedroom, but Apparated right inside it. It shocked her to see that Ron was packing.

'Now, what the hell are you doing?'

'I'm leaving, Hermione.'

'You can't leave without telling me why, Ron! Are you... are you...? Just tell me... why is it? Because you thought I wanted you to die?'

'Apparently, yes, my life is worth less than the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy!'

'This has nothing to do with your whole behaviour! Was this trip all you needed to discover who I am?'

Hermione's eyes were watering as she got red in the face with anger.

'What are you talking about?'

'Ron, you have been dreading this trip ever since you agreed to come, I wonder if you only said yes because... you thought it was a duty, or something you had to do!'

'But—'

'I don't understand... is it because my family chooses museums to go sightseeing? Is it because I don't want to sleep with you while my parents are next door, when they still see me as their little girl? Is it being together all the time that annoys you, please tell me!'

Ron stood still for a moment, seeing her wiping the tears and sitting on the mattress he had been sleeping on.

'Do you even love me?'

'Of course I do.'

He sat next to her and took her in his arms.

'More every day, if possible. I'm sorry. I'm a git. It's nothing of those things that got to me. It's only... You... I don't want you to think that I hate your family, Hermione, because I don't. Please don't think this is too stupid...'

Hermione looked up at him, expectant.

'I'm afraid that they liked me only because they got a false impression of me, and that as soon as they know me, they will stop thinking I'm a good choice for their only daughter.'

'What?'

She could not hold back a smile now and hugged him.

'That's… You're impossible. And I don't want you to die. You know that. I guess I was a little pissed off too.'

'You know, being together all the time, even in those circumstances...' Ron started carefully.

'What?'

'How is it working for you?'

'Me? Well... I didn't need this to know that I love to see your face in the morning, or that I could never feel sad, or frightened, or lonely when you're next to me...'

'Really?' asked Ron, grinning and, snuggling up to her, he said quietly, 'Because I've been wondering for a while if you would like to move in with me... And since our feelings are mutual...'

Hermione broke apart only to scan his eyes.

'Are you sure? I... oh, of course I'd love that too, Ron! You're—'

'Impossible, I know,' he grinned again, receiving a long, thankful kiss. Ron then stood up and held out a hand for her.

'Come on, I'll apologize to your mum and dad. '

'You will? I thought you'd try and… jump on me or something, ' said Hermione, amused.

'Nah, we came on holiday with them,' said Ron, gesturing dismissively. 'I owe them some respect, don't I? I give up on you.'

The sea was finally singing peace. Ron's legs sprawled around her in the white sand; Hermione closed her eyes and smelled the salty air.

'We deserved it.'

'Yeah. It was very nice of them, though, to take their eyes off us for a while. '

'They're accomplishing the romantic moment I spoiled for them, twice,' she chuckled.

'Totally your fault, I agree.'

Hermione leant back in his arms, looking up at him defiantly, and he planted a kiss on her lips.

'It's a shame we're leaving tomorrow, isn't it? '

'You got to enjoy the trip, in the end?' Hermione asked, surprised.

'Well, yeah. Besides… Devo dire, amore mio, che tempo umido sta ottenendo i capelli molto ricci, e mi voglia per te, immensamente.'

When Hermione blinked a couple of times, taken aback and fearing for Ron's sanity, he burst in laughter.

'Don't you think these multilingual toffees are really effective? ' he added with a cocky grin, showing a small box covered with pictures of different flags. 'George was looking for fresh ideas and I came up with—'

'I have no idea what you just said, but leave some of those for the return home,' Hermione cut him off, pushing him down on the sand.