Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Foreword: I got to thinking, "If Hermione never told her parents about all the dangerous things that happened in Hogwarts, couldn't that mean that Hermione failed to bring up evidence on Harry's loving nature?" This was the product of such that thought. I also recommend that you, as the reader, don't think too deeply on the setting of the story. This is meant to be something humorous to read. Also, I always noticed that in most stories, Hermione's parents takes a quick shine to Harry. I wanted to do something else instead!

Misconstrued Misconceptions

by Romantic Silence

First Impressions

Hiram Granger thought of himself to have been a good father and had led a good life. He met his beautiful wife, Jean, while in university and married her after graduation. Through perseverance and toiling, he and his wife managed to start up a small practice. Then later, although it had been hard, they had been blessed with a beautiful, baby girl. The birth nearly killed Jean and it was then that they decided they were content with just one child. Hermione was the apple of his eye, and he knew he spoiled her when she was younger. Thankfully, Jean would always help when it came to reprimanding their little girl. God knows he hadn't the guts.

When Hiram found out Hermione was magical, he accepted it and allowed Hermione her freedom. Despite his misgivings over the entire thing, Hiram knew that Hermione preferred independence. However, throughout the years, Hiram couldn't help but worry. Hermione had two best friends – both male. Ron Weasley seemed like a nice fellow, albeit with a penchant with arguing with his little girl. He knew Hermione was very confrontational, so it couldn't be helped. He came from a large family. His father was a Ministry worker apparently and his mother was a homemaker. It appeared his siblings were also widely successful in their respective fields. It was obvious that the lad was going to go somewhere with his life if the past success of his family were of any indication.

It was Hermione's intimate friendship with the other boy, Harry Potter, that worried him the most. That boy seemed like nothing but trouble. He remembered meeting him once and he saw how shabby his appearance was. It was obvious he didn't come from a wealthy background and while he would not judge the boy because of it, it was clear that the lad did not care much for appearances. In addition to that, he had gotten several letters from Hermione about the lad's home life. His relatives weren't particularly kind and that sort of upbringing reflected on Harry's behavior. He was a constant rule-breaker in school!

Worst of all, out of the two potential candidates that his little girl had, she had chosen Harry Potter. The unscrupulous fellow had somehow managed to win Hermione's heart and the plans were made to have him officially meet the boy since that time when he had been twelve. Hiram had to see for himself what exactly caused his lovely daughter to choose such an unscrupulous and ill-mannered young man over her other friend that showed such potential and promise for his future. He understood that Hermione was nineteen and out of school; she was a woman now, free to make her own decisions. That didn't mean he had to like it.

"Hiram, love." His wife stood in the doorway of his office. "Hermione says that Harry is coming soon."

Grumbling, Hiram stood up from his desk, turning off the monitor of his computer. "Tell me again why we're only meeting him now?"

"It couldn't be helped, he's been busy, after all."

Busy trying to get out of trouble, I bet. Hiram thought and followed after his darling wife. Hermione was a spitting image of her mother, but Jean had far darker hair that she had inherited from her father. Her bushy brown hair that he had fallen in love with in his youth had mellowed with age and had fallen back in straighter waves. She was still fit, all thanks to their weekly tennis matches with their friends, the Fairchilds.

The Granger patriarch walked into the living room as soon as Hermione walked out. Hiram stopped and stared after his daughter moving to the front door.

"Hermione, where are you heading off to? I thought we were meeting Harry?" Hiram asked.

Hermione smiled. "Harry said to wait outside. He has something to show me."

Hiram and Jean followed after their daughter as she ran outside. Hiram internally grumbled. What was so important that he had to be dragged outside? His entire family stood at the sidewalk, waiting for the illustrious Harry Potter to arrive.

"There he is!" Hermione shouted, pointing to a figure coming up the street.

Hiram's eyes nearly bulged out of his eye sockets. The young man that was Harry Potter was driving up the street on a rather large motorcycle. He could hear the engine's ferocious roar as it reached closer to the house. Finally, the racket ceased as the biker driving it parked the motorcycle on the curb in front of his humble home. He got up from the bike and removed his helmet, giving Hiram a clear view of Harry's appearance.

As expected, Harry was unscrupulous as ever. His hair was still a darkened mess, untamed and wild. There were hints of a five-o-clock shadow forming on the lower half of his face, evidence that he wasn't particularly keen on shaving. Harry had worn what looked like an old jacket with "Prongs" clearly embedded on the back of it. Whatever that meant, Hiram hadn't a clue. His eyes, a striking green color, bore mischief and trouble in them. His inspection was cut short when his daughter leaned forward and kissed him. Hiram turned and grimaced when that happened.

"Harry! You're here!" Hermione excitedly shouted, wrapping her arms around him. "Mr. Weasley finally fixed Sirius's old bike?"

"Yeah! It took awhile, but he managed to do it. It works perfectly!" Harry replied, returning Hermione's embrace.

"Harry, this is my mother, Jean. As you can tell, it's where my middle name comes from." Hermione introduced her mother.

Jean smiled and shook Harry's hand. "It's such a pleasure to finally meet you again, Harry. I have to say, it's been years since we've last met and you have grown to be a very handsome young man."

"Thank you, Mrs. Granger." Harry said, smiling. "By any chance, are you French?"

"Oh, no! My grandmother was though. I used to visit France often though when I was younger to see her."

"Vous êtes aussi belle que votre fille." Harry complimented in French. Hiram, didn't understand a word he said, but he was sure he didn't like it by the blush on his wife's face.

"Oh my, you're quite the charmer! You speak French, Harry?" Jean asked.

Harry shook his head. "I only know a few words and phrases. I have some friends from France who taught me a few things."

Hiram rolled his eyes. Anyone could speak a few things in French. It was obvious that Harry only knew enough to charm the knickers off a girl. He had seen it plenty of times before when he was younger. It was just as he feared, his daughter was dating some boy who thought he was the greatest gift to women.

"Mother, stop hogging him. He still needs to be introduced to dad." Hermione remarked jokingly.

Jean sighed, rolling her eyes in good fun. Hermione took Harry's hand and turned him to Hiram. Hiram stiffened as he stared face to face with his daughter's choice of a man. They were similar in height, but Hiram had the slight advantage of a few centimeters.

"Harry," Hermone began. "This is my father, Hiram Granger."

"Pleased to meet you, sir." Harry said politely. "I'm Harry Potter. Thank you for letting me visit your home."

Hiram internally frowned. Harry had yet to avoid eye contact. He had assumed that the boy would have done everything it took to not look him in the eye, but here he was ready to shake hands. Well, it didn't take an expert to meet someone's gaze. Hiram took Harry's hand and shook it, finding it surprisingly firm and hard. It surprised him that such a fellow had a good, authoritative handshake.

He did not like it.

"Mum, dad, let's get inside and have dinner, shall we?" Hermione asked, smiling lovingly as ever. It melted Hiram's heart and how sweet and beautiful his daughter was. How she could have fallen in love with that Harry was yet a mystery.

"Oh, that sounds lovely, Hermione. Come, Harry, I already have the dinnerware prepared."

"You shouldn't have, Mrs. Granger, I could have helped you out."

"Nonsense." Jean waved her hand dismissively. "You're a guest and none of that Mrs. Granger nonsense, please call me Jean."

As the party was moved back to the house, Hiram couldn't help but follow with a crease in his eyebrows. Harry was everything as he expected. Who drove around in that loud motorcycle and wears such an odd jacket? It wouldn't have surprised him if Harry was part of some roving band of marauders or something. He was not looking forward to dinner. Harry Potter was trouble and his daughter would not do well to be in a relationship with such a man.

He much preferred that Ron Weasley dating his daughter than Harry Potter.

Afterword: Hermione's father ships Hermione x Ron. Isn't that terrible? This can be taken as a stand-alone, but it's more than likely I would continue it – but not as urgently as my other projects. Hiram's name and personality was sort of inspired by Hiram Lodge from Archie Comics. Ironically, after finishing the story, I did some more research on the character and it turned out his wife's name is Hermione Lodge. How odd of coincidence is that?