A/N: Okay, so, a multi-chap. I am absolutely horrendous at forming plotlines and all that, but hey, I'm gonna do it. This is just a little romance fic, the classic romcom basically. I've really wanted to write a multichapter for the longest time, but seriously, I am BAD at them. I don't think or plan or anything before I write - it's my downfall. Erm, so hopefully this turns out nicely, and gets good reviews! (or at least average ones.) So, give this a chance, purrleaase. Thank you all! :)

My disclaimer? Well, I'm in highschool. I don't know about you, but I haven't heard about J.K. Rowling still being in grade ten.

"You know, dear, we've never met Ronald before. Though he was very charming over the phone."

Jasper Granger's eyebrows rose at the mention of said 'boyfriend', as Evangeline set down cups and some biscuits for tea. Hermione reached out for one, smiling lightly at her father's reaction.

"Yes Mum, I actually wanted to –"

"Your father and I were wondering if it would be okay if Ronald wanted to come over this week or next for tea, or perhaps even dinner."

Mr. Granger spluttered.

"Oh, stop it, Jasper. Don't you want to meet your daughter's boyfriend?" said Evangeline, "Especially when she's been sending us letters about this infamous Ronald since she was in her first year."

Jasper glowered.

"Dad," said Hermione, nibbling on a biscuit, "Do you always have to make that face every time we mention Ron?"

"I still think you're a bit too young to have a boyfriend, dear." declared Jasper, setting down his newspaper. "He seemed a bit dim over the phone, to be honest."

"Dad!"

"She's almost twenty years old, Jasper. How old do you want her to be before she can have a boyfriend? Forty?"

"Sounds like a fine age to start a relationship in my opinion."

"Oh, Jasper," Evangeline sighed in exasperation, giving her daughter a look.

"It does sound like a good idea, Mum," Hermione said, patting her mother's arm, "Actually, I was about to ask you if I could bring him over."

Kate clapped her hands together. "Great! We'll make it a date."

"What do you say about next Saturday eve? Jasper?"

"I suppose."

Mrs. Granger slapped her husband on the arm, sighing.

"Tell me, what are his favourite foods?"

"I can't be sure, to tell the truth. He'll eat about anything." said Hermione, chuckling.

"Hmph, it's about time I find somebody who will eat everything on the table!" said Evangeline, "You children were always fussy eaters. I'll be glad to have him in my home."

"Bloody hell," she muttered, leaning half-over to pull on a black heel while trying to brush her hair at the same time. Being as uncoordinated as she was, this was an incredibly difficult task and she promptly toppled over, landing on a squeaky toy she had forced upon Crookshanks. A string of obscenities followed this, and she rubbed the small of her back, where the offence had occurred. She shook her head; Ron's virulent foul mouth had finally started to rub off on her. "That's going to bruise," she told herself, kicking the toy with her still-bare foot.

"Damn!" she cried out upon hearing the obnoxious shriek of the doorbell. "Damnit, damnit, damnit!"

She silently cursed her inability to get ready on time. Her hair was still undone, only one shoe was in place, and her make-up had yet to be applied. She whimpered out of self-pity, hobbling (due to the lopsidedness caused from a lack of both shoes being on) to the door to answer.

The whine of the doorbell subsided, and she heard the door open and close.

"Hermione? Where are you?"

"Bedroom!" she replied, impatient.

She tugged on the shoe once more, causing her to topple over. She saw a flash of red hair before her line of sight disappeared from behind the side of the bed.

"What are you doing down there?" asked Ron, extending a hand to help her up.

"Trying to get ready," she muttered, grasping his hand. "And it's taking me ages."

"Have you forgotten you're a witch, or…?"

Ron yanked her arm backwards, pulling her upright. When she was flat on her feet (or rather, foot) she reached for her wand on the dresser. Within several seconds, her hair was tied back in a neat chignon, her other shoe on her foot and her makeup complete.

"Sometimes I forget, especially when Mum makes me do the spring cleaning without a wand," she said, "But now that I'm ready, the question of the hour is, are you ready?"

Ron was feeling somewhat awkward. Of course, he knew that it was expected, routine even, to meet his girlfriend's parents and family, but it didn't make the situation any less nerve-wracking.

"I can't say I am, no," said Ron, loosening his collar. "For some reason, I don't think your parents will be particularly thrilled to meet me, especially after you missed an entire year of school with Harry and myself."

"Oh, Ron, just relax, I'm only kidding," said Hermione, placing a kiss atop of his freckled nose, "I'm sure my parents will see you for the very brave, charming young man that you are."

"Why thank you," said Ron, flashing her a grin, "But tell me, how are my teeth?"

"I see you looked into dentistry?"

"Yes, and it's bloody strange. Muggles need other Muggles to clean and fix their teeth for them, and with all those pointy things? It looks painful."

Hermione shook her head.

"It's not all that bad. Ready to go?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," said Ron, grabbing onto her hand and Apparating away, leaving the flat empty.

The first thing Ron noticed about Hermione's house was that it was quite large. Not large as in going upwards like his family home, but it was a rather stately home, with a winding path and nice rosebushes. To say the very least, it was intimidating.

"Why are we doing this again?"

Ron felt Hermione scowl at him through the density of the dark.

"Because, Ron, you have to meet my parents."

"I've spoken to them, though, through the fellytone." said Ron. "Several times. Isn't that the same thing?"

Hermione sighed. "It's a telephone, not a fellytone, silly. And you've spoken to them as my frustrating friend Ron."

"And now that I'm your frustrating boyfriend Ron, a new introduction is in order?" Ron said, raising his eyebrows.

"This is different," said Hermione, ahead of him on the front stoop. "Just calm down, and be polite."

"I'll try not to say anything out of order, Mo – st beautiful girl I've ever met," he finished, smiling at Hermione who was glaring daggers.

Hermione knocked on the door, peering in the side windows.

"Hermione, dear!" Mrs. Granger opened the door, smiling widely.

"Mum," said Hermione, hugging her mother before turning to Ron. "This is Ron."

"Yes, Ron. Eva Granger, it's lovely to meet you, finally! We've heard so much about you."

"Nice to meet you," said Ron, quite awkwardly.

"Well, come in, come in! Your father is just down the hall, and dinner is in the oven."

Ron and Hermione followed Mrs. Granger through the house, which in Ron's opinion, was the cleanest, shiniest house he'd ever stepped foot in. He brushed off his trousers, feeling as if he was bringing dirt and dust in the sparkling home with him.

"Jasper, they're here!" said Mrs. Granger. "Hermione, would you help me finish up dinner? We can give your father and Ron some time to get to know each other, a little bit of a boy's night before we come back."

"Oh, sure," said Hermione, shooting Ron an apologetic look.

"He's nice, you'll be fine." she added in a whisper, seeing Ron's panicky expression. Hermione disappeared into the kitchen, and left Ron alone in the den with a rather formidable looking father.

A tall man, with hair the same colour as Hermione's greeted Ron with a tight smile.

"I'm Jasper, but you can call me Mr. Granger, I prefer it. Do have a seat." he said, ushering for him to sit down. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Ronald."

"Uh – yeah, you too." said Ron, shifting in his seat.

"Care for a drink?"

"Oh, no, I don't drink much."

Mr. Granger raised his eyebrow in a way that reminded him forcibly of Hermione.

"So, Ronald, what field of work are you in?"

"I'm training to become an Auror right now, er – sir."

"Auror? I'm unfamiliar with that term."

"Er – it's a bit like a police officer, I think."

There was a newfound sort of respect in Jasper's eyes, and Ron smiled nervously.

"Good man, very good. However, you're still in training. From what my daughter has told me, shouldn't you be in the top ranks already? Within that year that you all – you two, and that other boy, Harry, I believe? Yes, that's it – you missed all that school together. You were out on some kind of dangerous mission, correct?"

"Um, yeah – yeah, correct."

"I would imagine after all that, you would've gotten your fair share of training." he said, looking critical. Ron swallowed hard; he was never good with these kinds of things. "Or did you three just skive off a year of school for a break? Some adventure?"

There was a long pause before words began to form in Ron's throat, and even so, they didn't come out coherently.

"Oh, no, I – uh –"

"Dinner is ready." said Hermione, who had finished up and arrived just in time. Ron stood up abruptly.

"I suppose we should sit down, then?" he said tensely. Mr. Granger stood up, giving Ron a sort of look before exiting the room.

"He hates me!" Ron whispered. "I'm sure of it. He's really putting a fire under my ass, Hermione!"

"He just wants to get to know you," she replied in hushed tones. "You're the only guy I've ever brought home, so he's just going to be a little firm."

Ron squeezed her hand. He sat down at the table across from Hermione, with Mr. Granger on his left at the head and Mrs. Granger on the right.

"So, how's work been?" Hermione asked after a moment of stroppy silence. Mr. Granger began chattering loudly about his dentistry, which Ron listened to without understanding in the least, while Mrs. Granger brought plates to the table, adding her own annotations in now and then. It wasn't until he heard his own name that he tuned into the discussion.

"Ron? What is it you do again?" asked Mrs. Granger.

"Er," Ron said, looking at Hermione blankly. He wasn't sure just how much Hermione's parents knew about the magical world and to what degree they would stare at him in a bemused way if he answered accurately.

"Ron and I work at the Ministry, in the same department," said Hermione hurriedly. "The Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"I'm training to become an Auror, it's a bit like a police officer," said Ron again.

"Yes, we had been discussing this," said Mr. Granger, "But I hadn't asked, will it pay well?"

"Dad!" Hermione gasped.

"I'm not trying to be rude," Mr. Granger said genially, raising his eyebrows innocently. "I just want to be sure my dear Hermione is well supported in the future. I'm sure you can understand that, Ron."

"Well, I suppose it should be more than enough to cover basic needs," said Ron, attempting to make himself sound knowledgeable in the subject, when in fact, he wasn't very sure at all.

"You know, we haven't heard much about your family, except for your sister," said Mrs. Granger, "Although Hermione has told us it's very large."

"How many siblings do you have? All with red hair, correct?" asked Mr. Granger.

"Well, I have five older brothers, and yeah, a sister. Nothing but ginger." replied Ron, cringing as he realized where this conversation was headed.

"So I'll assume any children we might get from you two will have it too?" said Mrs. Granger, chucking as she took a sip from her wine glass.

"Please Eva; they're much too young for any of that. Right, Hermione? Ronald?"

Both Ron and Hermione smiled and nodded awkwardly, attempting to make a joke about it.

"I mean, I should hope you are. Have you made love?"

"Jasper!" said Mrs. Granger, hitting her husband on the arm.

"Dad!" Hermione hid her reddening face in her hands.

Ron took a sharp intake of breath, looking everywhere but at Hermione's father.

"Well, have you?"

"This is not dinnertime conversation, Jasper."

"Oh, fine, fine. You two have been together for how long, though?"

"Almost a year, Dad."

"Do you love my daughter, Ronald?"

Ron paused for a moment.

"Well, yes. Yes, I do."

Hermione's mother smiled warmly at Ron, though her father remained looking with insight.

"So, what are your intentions regarding my daughter?"

Hermione sighed, and Ron looked up at the clock on the wall. 7:30.

It was going to be a long night.

"You see? It wasn't that bad, and you got so worked up about it," said Hermione soothingly, as she and Ron left the house.

"I'm sorry, did you just say it wasn't that bad?" replied Ron incredulously. "Were we in the same house? The same universe? Your father grilled me like a crepe." His mouth curved into a moody pout. "He hates me. Really."

"Mum liked you," said Hermione, smiling, "I'm sure that Dad just needs some alone time with you. Or maybe he just needs to know your family! I'm sure he'll warm up to you, really."

"I sure hope so, because right now, he's colder than the air back at Nick's deathday party."