Wow. This turned out twice as long as I thought it would be. Thank Merlin for extensions.

Written for Round 3 of the QLFC. (That rhymed!) May us Tornadoes win. :)

(Prompts detailed at the bottom.)

"My parents will love you," Hermione assured him. "I've told them so much about you."

Ron winced. "They know everything."

"Not everything," Hermione said, but internally she cringed.

Her parents knew about the Troll. Her mother managed to get the Yule Ball incident out of Hermione, and Hermione's letters during 6th year made it obvious that something had happened between her and Ron, despite her trying to cover it up.

All of those memories had been erased, and then when Hermione had returned them, she'd stupidly told them Ron was her boyfriend, just after they'd gotten the memories of how distraught Ron had made her in the past.

And now they wanted to meet Ron.

It wasn't as if they hadn't met him before. They'd seen Ron in Diagon Alley, and they trusted his family to take care of her for part of the summer. Hermione got the feeling that this was more about meeting Ron as her boyfriend, not as the friend Hermione had had for seven years and counting.

That bothered her. She knew Ron didn't like to be tied to another person's name. She'd seen how it had taken a toll on him, being known as merely the friend of the Boy-Who-Lived. Hermione and Ron were equals, and that was how they both liked it. Being seen as someone not equal to Hermione, someone less than her, wouldn't be taken very lightly. Hermione herself had experienced it, when Harry had found that blasted Half-Blood Prince's book. Something told her it would be worse for Ron.

Yet Hermione still thought there was something to be salvaged from the situation. Her parents already knew Ron. How hard could this be?

Then her father opened the door, and Hermione felt the small hope she'd had fade away in the early-summer breeze.

Ron didn't think he could feel any worse than he already did, standing at the Grangers' doorstep.

One look at Hermione's father's face, however, was all it took for him to feel complete dread.

"Come in," Dr. Granger greeted in an emotionless voice, and Ron was met with the horrible realization that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

As he entered behind Hermione, Ron kept his eyes straight ahead. He didn't dare look around at the house, not while he could feel Dr. Granger's gaze on his back.

Even while looking ahead and nowhere else, Ron could see that the Grangers were a very tidy family. He could see where Hermione got her organization skills; the entire house was extremely neat, if not empty, although Ron thought that perhaps they had tried to clean up a bit for him. He could remember Mum doing so more than once while Aunt Muriel or some other relative visited the Burrow.

Then again, maybe they hadn't tried at all. As far as he could tell, he wasn't exactly welcome.

As if Hermione could hear his thoughts, she leaned back and whispered, "They've found a house near our old neighborhood, and they'll be leaving Australia in a few weeks or so. That's why it's so tidy."

Ron nodded, before realizing she couldn't see him. "Oh."

The hall led to the living room, where Hermione's mother was waiting. She was bearing a tray with four cups of steaming tea.

"Welcome," she said, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

Hermione had stepped back to stand level with Ron. From his peripheral vision, he could see her frowning, and he knew it wasn't just his imagination.

The Grangers had a problem with him. He didn't know what exactly it was, but he was already regretting his decision to follow through with their invitation.

"Sit down, Hermione, Ron," Hermione's father said from behind them. Hermione gently nudged him to one of the sofas that lined the walls, and sat down next to him at a respectable distance. She didn't take his hand, and he surfaced from his extreme anxiety to acknowledge how awkward this situation must be for her. She was probably nervous as well.

Hermione's mother set the tea down in front of them, but Ron didn't reach for a cup. His mind was usually dominated by nervousness or hunger, and at that moment it wasn't hunger he was thinking about.

"So," Hermione's father sat down and studied Ron. It was slightly unnerving. "We've heard a lot about you."

Ron felt marginally relieved that he'd gotten straight to the point instead of beating around the bush. Merlin knew he'd gotten enough of that from Hermione.

"Er – yeah," Ron said, when he realized the Grangers were waiting for a response. "We've been friends for…for a long time."

There was no mistaking the frown on Hermione's mother's face. "Tell us about your family, Ron."

"I – um, they're great," Ron swallowed. "I have six siblings. I have my Mum and Dad, of course. There's Aunt Muriel, but no one likes her – "

"How was your family involved?" Hermione's father prompted. Ron blinked.

"In what?"

"In..." Dr. Granger took a deep breath, as if it pained him to say the words. "In this…war. The one Hermione told us about recently."

"Oh. They were part of the Order, so I suppose they were involved in a lot of it…and Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon were in the Order before they died, so there's that…"

"The Order of the Phoenix, an organization to stop Voldemort and his Death Eaters," Hermione explained when her parents raised an eyebrow.

Hermione's mother took a shuddering breath. "How much were you both involved?"

"We helped stop him," Ron said quietly. He had an inkling of where this conversation was going.

"Is that why Hermione erased our memories?" she blurted, as if she couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Yes," Hermione looked down, and Ron saw a tear slide down her cheek. "Yes, that's exactly why."

Ron wanted to put his arm around her, but Hermione's parents were watching him and he didn't want to make Hermione feel embarrassed as well as sorrowful.

He cleared his throat. "She had a good reason," he said evenly, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Such as running off and nearly getting killed?" Hermione's father was glowering at him now. Ron shrank back.

"She was of age," he said weakly. "She is of age."

"She is seventeen," Hermione's mother's voice shook, and she set her cup of tea back down on the tea tray.

Ron faltered. Didn't that just prove his point?

Hermione took a deep breath, and Ron saw she was trying to calm herself. Her hands slowly stopped shaking. "A wizard comes of age at seventeen, Mum. I've told you so before."

"Your parents aren't wizards, Hermione," her father pointed out. "And, seeing as we aren't wizards, you come of age at eighteen."

"I am a witch," Hermione snapped. "Therefore I come of age at seventeen!"

"Hermione!" her mother interrupted. "Do not talk to your father that way."

"Sorry," Hermione muttered.

"This isn't about you," her father told her. He turned to Ron. "It's about Ron, and his family, and what they've dragged you into."

There it was. Of course it would come to this.

"They haven't – " Hermione began, but fell silent when her mother gave her a look.

"My daughter has been in danger for as long as she's been at Hogwarts," Hermione's father began, and Ron knew better than to stop him right then.

"My daughter has been in danger all this time, and not once did she mention this to us," her father continued bitterly, "In fact, she erased our memories without our permission, and then when the danger had passed, she gave our memories back and told us what had happened the last seven years."

"That has nothing to do with Ron!" Hermione burst out.

"Of course, your family knew all about this war. The family we trusted to take care of Hermione during the summers. Surely we could have trusted this family? Or at the very least, trusted her friends to keep her out of harm's way?"

"I – " Ron began, but Hermione's mother cut him off.

"They didn't," she said in a hollow voice. "Instead, they let her gallivant off with her friends to save the world, without a word against them."

"Perhaps they didn't think it was their place," Hermione's father continued. "So, surely Hermione's friends would do something to keep her safe, knowing the danger she was in?"

Ron fell silent. Had they even tried to keep her safe? They'd discussed it, but when it really came down to it, had he even attempted to protect her?

Memories of Malfoy Manor came to his mind, and he felt sick.

"And now you're her boyfriend," Hermione's mother was accusing. "The friend who didn't try to protect our daughter from the danger she was in."

This might have been easier to handle, if the words didn't ring in his ears and remind him of how Hermione had been tortured by Bellatrix and he hadn't been able to do anything, anything at all…

He stood up. He couldn't take it anymore. The memories pounded in his head, trapping him in the despair and guilt.

This wasn't how their visit was supposed to end, but Ron was past the point of caring. Hands shaking, he headed towards the door.

"Ron, wait," Hermione begged.

He paused; the tone of her voice was all-too-familiar, and for a moment he was storming away from a tent, the sound of Hermione's anguished cries following him.

Then the moment was over, and he shook his head and continued towards the door.

For a moment she stood there, breathing hard. She couldn't remember ever being this furious, especially not toward her parents.

She could feel tears welling up in her eyes, and she angrily fought them back down.

"How could you – you – I am so ashamed!" Hermione yelled.

Her parents stared at her sadly, as if they had been expecting this. She felt something stir in her stomach, and she was reminded of the fact that Ron had left her. Again.

The tears stung her eyes once more, and she turned and ran out of the living room, towards the door and what she hoped was a step closer to Ron…

Hermione stopped outside the house. Ron didn't know Australia very well, much less this particular region. Their international Portkey was set to leave this evening, and she was the one holding onto it, so he couldn't be very far. The only other place they'd visited in this area was the neighborhood park…

As she rushed in the direction of the small park, she thought about what her parents had said. All she'd wanted was for them to accept Ron – not just as her boyfriend, but as a person. Most of all, as one of her best friends and one of the people she trusted the most.

If she were honest with herself, she should have seen this coming. How could she not have realized it until it was happening? If she'd really thought about it, she might have even expected this…

"Do you remember when I told you about those purebloods that think they're superior to those with Muggle parents?" Hermione asked, and then winced at her wording.

Her parents seemed to pick up on it as well. "Yes, now we do, thank you," her dad snapped.

"Well…ever since I started going to school at Hogwarts, a war's been brewing," she began.

"Do we need to take you out of school?" her mother asked anxiously. Then she frowned. "But you would have finished your last year by now." Her voice shook at the words. Hermione was harshly reminded that her mother had wanted to hear about her last year of school, and the fact that she hadn't even gone to school stung a bit.

Neither of her parents were happy with her for erasing their memories, and she doubted dropping this kind of news on them would make them any happier. She wished she could do this another day, but she had to get it out before they started asking questions she couldn't quite answer.

"No," she took a deep breath. "The reason I erased your memories was because…because we needed to end it."

"End it?" Her dad looked terrified for a long moment. "Do you mean to say that – that you were involved?"

"I helped defeat Voldemort and his Death Eaters," she said firmly. At their questioning looks, she added, "The leaders of the blood superiority cause."

"The Weasleys should have kept you safe from all of this," her mother said, horrified. "You were in more danger than they were."

"They were in just as much danger, Mum," she tried to reason. "They were supposedly 'traitors' to the blood superiority cause, being an ancient pureblood family."

"Then they should have known what would happen to you if this…Voldemort and his Death Eaters caught you!" her father was furious. "You're not even of age!"

"You – you don't understand! I'm of age in the magical community."

"But not where we're concerned!" her father ground his teeth together.

"This – perhaps you should get settled with your memories," she said hurriedly, backing out of the room. "I'll – I'll come visit in a few days."

"You should have known better, Hermione," her mother said, her disappointment showing. "The Weasleys should have known better."

"It wasn't up to them what I did, Mum," she pleaded. "I did what I thought I should, and we actually defeated him. Don't blame them for what I think I was justified in doing."

She left the house, ignoring her father's shouts and her mother's yelling.

How could one sour encounter result in such a horrible turn of events? It had all blown up in her face before she had even registered what was happening.

She reached the park, and almost immediately the orange of Ron's hair caught her eyes. He was sitting on a swing, feet on the ground. The sky was clear and the sun was out, but there were no children in sight; Hermione found this to be a strange occurrence.

She took the swing next to him and rocked it back and forth, until only the tips of her shoes brushed the ground.

"This wasn't how I expected today to go," Ron muttered, nudging wood chips with his foot.

Hermione continued to swing rather than answer. She had a feeling he wanted to keep talking.

"I was nervous, sure, but I also kind of assumed…" Ron looked up and squinted into the sun.

"I should have seen this coming." The words escaped her mouth before she could collect her thoughts. "I – I mean, it was probably my fault, I told them about the war right after they got their memories back and made them blame you and your family for not keeping me safe…" she was rambling, but her thoughts were too confusing to organize in such short amount of time.

"There was some truth in that, don't you think?" Ron glanced at her, then looked away again. "Not about my family, they couldn't have stopped us even if they wanted to, but I did a pretty horrible job protecting you, didn't I?"

"How so? You were in as much danger as I was, being Harry's friend, not to mention a blood traitor as well. We were protected as much as we could be during our hunt," Hermione challenged.

"We could have disguised you before Greyback and those Snatchers brought us to Malfoy Manor. You managed a stinging hex on Harry; we could have – I dunno – straightened your hair, or turned it a different color, or – "

"Trust me, Ron," Hermione said dryly. "If it were that easy to straighten my hair, I would have done it ages ago."

"We could have tried to stop them from torturing you," he persisted.

"Yes, without a wand, I'm sure anything's possible," Hermione retorted. "Face it, there was absolutely no other protection I could have gotten during the hunt. None of us were equipped enough to protect ourselves the entire time."

Ron quieted, and for a long moment, he simply sat there. Then, "That still doesn't change how your parents feel about me."

"No, it doesn't."

"What are we gonna do about it?"

Hermione thought about that for a moment.

"I don't think there's anything we can do," she said, finally. "But I do know one thing. I'm not breaking up with you just because they don't like what I did during the war."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "And what will you tell them if they say something about it?"

"I'll tell them to deal with it." Hermione said decisively. "I, for one, have had enough of people telling me what to do, especially after being hunted down for nine months."

Ron pondered that for some time. Hermione waited.

Finally, he smiled. "Me too."

Team: Tutshill Tornadoes

Position: Beater 1

Round Prompt: Write about your OTP being negatively received by the other family members.

Word Count: 2,928 words (excluding Author's Notes)

Prompts Used:

Prompt 2: (word) accept

Prompt 8: (word) inkling

Prompt 11: (narrative device) flashback