Disclaimer: This story is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.
CHAPTER 1: SENORITA
Ronald Beowulf Weaseley ran his fingers through his red hair and tried not to look nervous. It was August 15th; he had two weeks of glorious summer holidays left before the inevitable fun and frolics of his sixth year at Hogwarts (dodging Dementors, trying to outwit the Dark Lord) so he should have been very happy. Yeah, that's right, happy and relaxed. But he wasn't, because he was about to face his greatest test yet.
He was about to meet Hermione's parents.
Of course, he'd met the Grangers before, but he hadn't met them met them. Hadn't come in trying to look respectable and responsible and the type of young man you'd gladly entrust with your daughter's safety (although, in all fairness it was usually Hermione who looked after his safety…) He'd only been trying not to look like a pillock in front of her before this, having long ago accepted that he looked like a pillock in front of everyone else… But now, he had to, well, be-
Be a nice young man.
That's what his mother had told him just before she'd bundled him into the Ministry car (Mrs. Weaseley had somehow managed to smile encouragingly at him whilst glaring threateningly at the twins and Ginny), which would take him and Harry to their new safe house. Dumbledore had (rightly, in Ron's opinion) decided that The Burrow was just too dangerous, and had thus sent The Boy Who Lived (and consequentially, The Boy Who Wore Maroon Jumpers and Tried Not to Fall over The Boy Who Lived) to a new hiding place. Hermione's.
Ron had grinned for a week when he'd found out. He told his dad that it was because he was fascinated to see a real Muggle house (a suggestion which had elicited a few ribald suggestions from Gred and Forge about what exactly he should go looking for). He told Harry it was because he's get away from his family for a little while. Nobody seemed to believe him though, which was strange, because everyone knew how honest he was.
Yep, that was him. Honest. Straight as the day was long. No ulterior motives in this, just a genuine concern for his two friends.
Hermione had come tearing out of the house, that bushy hair flowing behind her like a sail, when the car had pulled up. She'd hugged Harry (far harder than Ron thought was exactly necessary). Ron probably would've gotten just such a hug, but he couldn't get out of the car. It felt like he was rooted to the chair, and no matter how much he urged his legs to move, they wouldn't obey. All he'd managed was a jerk, which had sprayed his pumpkin juice all over his new jeans (and yes, it was entirely coincidence that this was the first time he'd worn them even though he'd had them for three months and he'd asked Ginny for advice on how they looked).
Now Hermione was peering curiously in through the car window at him. She seemed annoyed (she usually seemed annoyed at him). The big grin, which had split her face when she'd seen Harry, had disappeared. Ron ran his fingers through his hair one more time and summoning every ounce of will power he had forced himself to stand and get out of the car, nodding awkwardly to Hermione as he did so and ardently wishing that one of his legs hadn't gone dead, since it was making him limp. Mr. And Mrs. Granger were looking at him oddly, probably because he looked more like a turtle than a human being. Taking a deep breath, he hauled his bag out and swung it onto his back, accidentally hitting Hermione in the process.
Yep, he thought. Everything was going swimmingly.
A/N This is the firstest fanfic i ever wrote! And yes, it's cute and fluffy, he hee!
