A/N: Posted for Becca, because I love her so much that she is capable of talking me into posting a story I wrote many months ago without planning to ever have anyone read it. This story is a stand-alone. Reviews would be much appreciated.
Meet the Parents
"Why are we doing this again?"
Ron saw Hermione scowling at him as they hurried from the car to her parent's house, 25 minutes late. They arrived so late because Ron had forgotten to borrow a car from the Ministry until approximately 18 minutes before they were supposed to be there.
"Because you have to meet my parents."
"I've met them, though," Ron said. "Several times. They're very pleasant people."
Hermione sighed. "You've met them as my annoying friend Ron."
"And now that I'm your annoying boyfriend Ron, a new introduction is in order?" Ron said, raising his eyebrows.
"Please just do this for me," Hermione said pleadingly as they stopped on the front stoop. "And be good, all right?" She reached up to pat his hair down.
Ron rolled his eyes and said, "I'll try not to break anything, Moth - " he stopped as Hermione glared daggers at him, and quickly amended. "Most beautiful and lovely girl I've ever met," he finished, feeling pleased with his save.
"Honestly, Ron, they liked Viktor very much - "
"Who doesn't?" Ron said darkly.
"But I know they'll like you more, because I like you more," Hermione said.
"Such beautiful words of love. I like you more than my cheating ex-boyfriend - my God, you know how to turn the fire on inside," Ron said sarcastically. Hermione rolled her eyes and knocked on the door.
"Hermione!" Mr. Granger opened the door with a grin on his face and a glass of sherry in his hand.
"Dad!" Hermione said enthusiastically. She hugged him and then turned to Ron. "Daddy, you've met Ron." Ron, at that moment, was standing awkwardly off to the side, wondering exactly what he was going to say and sincerely hoping that nothing close to, Hi, I'm the guy who's shagging your daughter came out of his mouth.
"Oh, yes, it's good to see you, old boy," Mr. Granger said, shaking Ron's hand. "Come in, your mother is in the kitchen." Ron and Hermione followed Mr. Granger through the house, which Ron regarded with interest. This was the cleanest, sparkliest house he'd ever been in. He wondered if maybe Hermione would let him take a plug for his Dad's collection.
"Cecilia, the kids are here!" Mr. Granger said loudly as they entered the kitchen.
"Oh, hello!" Mrs. Granger said, smiling tightly. "I'm glad you finally joined us, I was worried dinner would get cold." Ron blushed as Hermione shot him a glare.
"Was the traffic bad?" Mr. Granger asked, his question clearly directed at Ron, who suddenly realized he had not spoken. He wondered if maybe the Grangers thought he was a mute, and decided that wouldn't be so bad until Hermione elbowed him in the side.
"Er - not really," Ron said.
"Just running late then," Mrs. Granger said with a hint of disapproval that reminded Ron forcibly of Hermione.
"I suppose we should sit down to dinner?" Hermione said tensely. Ron squeezed her hand, but she didn't return the gesture. 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 awkward 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 comments in now and then. It wasn't until he heard his own name that he tuned into the conversation.
"Ron?" Mrs. Granger was saying politely. "What is it you do again?"
"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 works at the Ministry, same as me, but in a different department," Hermione said hurriedly.
"Department of Magical Games and Sports," Ron added.
"And does that pay well?" Mr. Granger asked.
"Dad!" Hermione gasped.
"I'm not trying to be rude," Mr. Granger said, raising his eyebrows innocently. "I just want to be sure my Hermione is well supported in the future. I'm sure you can understand that, Ron," he said genially.
Ron still wasn't sure what to say. In all honestly, the pay wasn't great, but how could he say that to Hermione's parents without sounding like a failure? And failure, judging by Hermione's eerie perfection, was not something the Grangers tolerated.
"I'm also in training to be an Auror," he said quickly. As this was a rather impressive aspiration, Ron was disappointed at the Grangers' lack of response.
"A what?" Mr. Granger inquired vacantly.
"An Auror," Hermione said, squirming slightly. "It's sort of like - er - Interpol."
"Ah," Mr. Granger said knowingly, and Mrs. Granger smiled.
"How is your family doing, Ron?" Mrs. Granger asked. "We've met your father several times, he's a very - er - interesting man."
Ron hid a smile and said automatically, "They're doing very well, thanks."
"You had quite a few siblings, all with that red hair, correct?" Mr. Granger said.
"Yes," Ron replied, cringing as he realized where this conversation was headed.
"So I suppose any children we might get from the two of you would have it too, eh?" Mr. Granger said.
"Dad!" Hermione said, in that same slightly horrified tone. She shot a glance at Ron, who had gone slightly pale. "We're a bit young to be thinking of children." Ron swallowed the bite of chicken he had in his mouth with difficulty. He marveled at how quickly this dinner had gone downhill. Next they'd be asking him about his marks in school.
Thankfully, the Grangers had moved on to telling a long-winded story about one of their orthodontist friends. An orthodontist, Ron came to understand, was someone who placed metal bars on the teeth of children, which made them straighten out.
"You never had braces, did you, Hermione?" Ron asked in an attempt to join in the wholly teeth-related conversation.
"No, no I didn't," Hermione said hastily. "I never needed them."
"Oh, right, because of the time when you shrunk them," Ron said. He didn't realize he had said anything wrong until he noticed the Grangers were staring at him, wide-eyed, and Hermione was glaring at him so furiously that Ron was sure sparks would be shooting out of her eyes at any moment.
"You shrunk your teeth? With magic?" Mrs. Granger asked Hermione sharply. Ron's mouth formed an O of horror as he remembered how Hermione had told him that her parents deeply disagreed with the mixing of teeth and magic. He winced and mouthed "Sorry" to Hermione.
"Well - yes - it was really an accident, you see, another boy made them bigger, and, well, when they were shrunk again..." She trailed off as Mrs. Granger made a tutting sound that was very similar to one Hermione was apt to make. Hermione glowered at her plate and jammed her fork into her mashed potatoes, which she ate silently while Mrs. Granger began a short lecture on the importance of proper dental care. Hermione continued to shoot Ron very angry looks, and he was beginning to wish he actually was a mute.
"Bloody hell, Hermione," Ron burst out after about the fifth dirty look. Mrs. Granger gasped, and Ron blushed. "Sorry - oh, Merlin - " he mumbled as Hermione's face turned bright red.
"Could you excuse us for a moment?" Hermione said between gritted teeth. She stood up and tossed her napkin onto her chair before practically stomping out of the room and down the hall. Ron followed meekly, and was almost sure he heard Mr. Granger mutter, "Good luck," before he stepped into the hall and the door slammed shut behind him.
"Why do you have to mess everything up?" Hermione asked in a low, dangerous voice. "Why do you insist on bungling up every little thing you say?"
"It wasn't that bad!" Ron said indignantly. "Look, I'm sorry about the cursing - "
"The cursing, and telling them about my teeth - haven't you got an ounce of sense?" Hermione cried. "And I had to tell them you were going to work for Interpol, for Merlin's sakes." She sighed and closed her eyes.
"I really am sorry," Ron said gently.
"I know you are," Hermione said in exasperation. "I just really wanted them to like you, so could you please, please try not to say anything else stupid?"
Ron bit back a retort at the beseeching look on Hermione's face. "Of course. It's not like I'm trying to be an idiot, or anything," he muttered, following Hermione back into the dining room.
"So," Mr. Granger said as they sat back down, "What exactly do you do there at the - what is it - Department of Magical Games and Sports?" Mr. Granger was apparently trying to continue on the dinner as though nothing had happened.
"Er - well - I deal with mostly Quidditch stuff," Ron said uncertainly.
"Oh, Qudditch!" Mr. Granger said excitedly. "Yes, that's the game played up in the air, isn't it?"
"It's sounds dreadfully dangerous to me," Mrs. Granger said. "Don't the players lose a lot of teeth?"
"Not really," Ron said, grateful to have come upon a topic he could talk about. "Some broken bones here and there, mainly from Bludgers - although a Quaffle did knock a player off her broom at the Cup last year, blatant bit of cheating if you ask me. Load of paperwork that caused, seeing as how the Snitch was caught just a moment later, the French were outraged, you should have seen what some of the owls they sent were..." He trailed off, seeing the decidedly confused looks both of the Muggles' faces. "Erm... right."
"Well, still, that seems very exhilarating," Mr. Granger said, eager to hear more. "Do you play Qudditch?"
"I played some at Hogwarts," Ron said modestly.
"Yes, he was Captain of our House team," Hermione interjected, glad to have found something to be proud of Ron for. "We won the Cup three years running."
"Brilliant," Mr. Granger said. "I - "
"Didn't that other friend of yours play? The older one, Viktor something?" Mrs. Granger interrupted. Ron's eyes immediately narrowed.
"Yes," Hermione said, her discomfort apparent on her face. "But - "
"Quite accomplished too, wasn't he?" Mrs. Granger continued. "Rather well-off, if I remember correctly." Ron was turning dark crimson. If there was one thing, he thought, one thing that could make this dinner worse, it would be for Mrs. Granger to go off praising that git Krum.
"Mum, why don't we clear off the table?" Hermione said in a loud, unnaturally high voice. She picked up her plate and several others, turning to go into the kitchen. Mrs. Granger followed her, and Ron stared straight ahead stonily.
"Well - I think I need a drink," Mr. Granger said. "Would you like one?"
"No thank you," Ron said.
"Right, then," Mr. Granger said uneasily. He left the table and walked down the hall. Ron stood up and tiptoed to the hallway, pressing his ear against the door to the kitchen.
"It's not that I don't like Ron," Mrs. Granger was saying, "But didn't you tell me his family had some issues with money? What if the same thing happens to you?"
"Mum, it's not - "
"Perhaps he's not good at managing his money, that could be a real problem, you know," Mrs. Granger said. "I just want you to make the right decision, pumpkin, and from what I've seen Ron may not be very good for you at all." Ron felt his cheeks flare up.
"Ron - Ron is good for me," Hermione said, with a note of uncertainty.
"I'm sure he's a very nice boy," Mrs. Granger said impatiently. "But you should be with someone special, like Viktor! He was charming and polite - "
"Ron's charming and polite - "
"And successful and extremely wealthy," Mrs. Granger said loudly. "Really, and the way Ron blundered on tonight - I'm quite sorry, darling, but he seems a bit immature for you."
"Well... sometimes he is, I suppose," Hermione said hes.
"I think you should consider going back to Viktor. I know he did a terrible thing, but everyone makes mistakes. You told me that once you thought about going back to him, have you thought about that any more lately?"
"I - well - I..."
The door Ron was leaning against swung open and he stumbled forward. He barely caught his balance and Mrs. Granger muttered, "Oh, my!" He looked up at Hermione, ashen-faced, feeling as though his stomach had sunk to his knees. Hermione, too, paled quickly.
"So... have you?" Ron spluttered. Hermione just stared at him, and, feeling disgust rising in his chest, Ron turned quickly and bolted down the hallway.
"Ron!" Hermione called in a strangled voice, but Ron ignored her. He shoved the front door open and ran blindly down the front walk. "Ron, wait!"
Hermione hurried up next to him and grabbed his elbow. Ron turned around to stare at her furiously. "Thought about going back to Vicky, eh? Nice to know. I especially enjoyed hearing it from your mother," he spat.
"Ron, I - "
"No, Hermione," Ron interrupted. "I'm sorry I'm not rich or successful or whatever it is your parents want, I'm sorry I've just been wasting your time. I'm glad I finally found out what you really want." He wrenched his arm away, ignoring the crestfallen look on her face and the clenching of his own heart.
"Ron," Hermione said. She reached up tentatively and touched his cheek. "You're what I want." She kissed him on the lips, a sweet kiss, and Ron melted in her arms.
"I just think sometimes - you could do better," Ron said. "Krum's better - "
"No, he isn't," Hermione said. "He isn't, or else I'd be with him. But I was never meant to be with him. Don't listen to what my Mum says, she doesn't know anything about you and I. She doesn't know that I would never be happy with anyone else, and she doesn't know that Krum never really meant anything to me, and she doesn't know that I've loved you since I was a bloody kid." She stroked his cheek again and smiled. "And I love you still."
"I'm sorry," he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers.
"No, I'm sorry," Hermione said. "Come on, let's get out of here. Oh - wait." She turned back to her parents, who were standing in the doorway, and clamped her arm around Ron's waist.
"Hey, Mum?" she called. "Bugger off." With a smirk, Hermione pulled Ron away from the house and into their car.
"Well," Ron said reflectively. "I think that went well."