What Passes for Normal These Days
Her mother was frying eggs and bacon when Hermione and her father got home. Ron was sitting at the island in the kitchen drinking a cup of tea and trying to explain Quidditch.
"And the position you play is what again?"
"Keeper," Hermione answered from the door, "and he's quite good."
"Not really," Ron said, blushing.
Hermione put her hands on his shoulders. "He's being modest."
"And this is all played on broomsticks?" her mother asked as she set a plate of food in front of Ron.
"Yeah," said Ron. "It's brilliant; really exciting."
Mrs. Granger smiled. "Do you play dear?" she asked Hermione.
Hermione shook her head. "I hate flying."
"Really?" her father asked.
"It makes me queasy," Hermione answered honestly. "Apparating was the best thing that ever happened to me."
"Apparating's much harder, though," Ron said around a mouth full of egg.
"Not really, once you get the hang of it," Hermione said dismissively.
Ron rolled his eyes. "You just say that because you got your license first time out."
"You have to have a license?" her father asked.
"Oh, yeah, not just anyone can Apparate. It takes loads of training and then they test you." Ron said.
"But you don't have your license?" her mother asked him.
"He almost got it," Hermione said in Ron's defense. "He only left part of his eyebrow behind. I thought it rather petty that they counted that against him."
"Left it behind?" her father said.
"Yeah," Ron said. "When you Apparate you really have to concentrate on getting all of you from one place to another. Loads of wizards can't do it."
"So," her father said, looking at Hermione, "you can just disappear from one place and appear in another now?"
Hermione nodded.
Her mother looked surprised. "Do show us, dear."
Hermione pulled out her wand. "Alright then," she said, and with a pop, she disappeared. A moment later she was in the front hall.
Her parents were wide-eyed at her reappearance.
"I say," her father said in a hushed voice, "that is brilliant."
"Well, I don't understand why you came in a cab then, dear," her mother said.
"I could have Apparated here, but Ron doesn't have a license yet. He did side-along apparition with his father to the train station though."
"Side-along?"
"It's when one person Apparates two people," Ron answered.
"Couldn't you have done that with Ron then?" her father asked.
Hermione laughed. "I'm not experienced enough for that yet. It's much more difficult."
"Well, why didn't your father bring you right here?" Mrs. Granger asked. "We'd love to see him."
"Dad's never been here before. It's really hard to Apparate to somewhere you've never been and even harder with a side-along." Ron explained.
Her father nodded. "I see."
"Well, what is everyone doing today?" asked her mother.
"I thought I'd take Ron around London a bit, show him some of the sites."
xXx
Ron and Hermione spent the day taking the Underground to various famous places. After a particularly vivid tour of the Tower of London, Ron declared that they needed a break.
"Who knew Muggle history was so bloodthirsty?" Ron said as they walked toward a street vendor.
Hermione shrugged. "No worse than the Goblin Wars."
"Really?"
"If you hadn't slept through History of Magic every time, you'd know that," Hermione responded reproachfully.
"Don't be daft. It's a miracle you managed to stay awake while Binns droned on."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I suppose he is a bit monotonous."
"A bit? Hermione, he actually bored himself to death."
She smiled in spite of herself. "Alright, alright." She turned to the vendor. "Two bottles of water, please."
Ron reached into his pocket.
Hermione stilled his hand. "They don't take galleons here, Ron," she whispered.
"I know that," he said affronted. "I've got Muggle money. Dad gave it to me." He pulled out a rather ratty five pound note and paid the vendor.
"Well, look at you," Hermione said, amusement clear in her voice. "Blending."
Ron opened a bottle of water and handed it to her. "Oh, I'm a man of the world, I am."
Hermione laughed as they walked back to the Underground.
When they got back to the Granger's house the tension between Hermione's parents was palpable.
"We're going to take dinner at the club tonight, dear," Mrs. Granger said. She was sitting in the living room by herself, knitting. They could see Mr. Granger was in the library smoking a pipe and looking at a book.
"That sounds good," Hermione said. "Is everything alright?"
"Everything's fine, dear," her mother assured her.
"We'll just freshen up and change for dinner then." Hermione said, taking Ron's arm and leading him from the room. "Well, this is bad," she said as they walked up the stairs to their rooms.
"What's going on?" Ron asked.
"Well, it's clear they've had a row."
"Well, yeah, but what do you suppose it's about?" Ron asked, hoping desperately that it didn't have anything to do with him.
"I don't know. They don't really argue all that often." She walked into her room and Ron followed. "Actually, I've only ever known them to argue about one thing."
"What's that?" Ron asked, sitting on the edge of Hermione's desk.
Some of the color left her face. "Me. They used to fight all the time about what to do about me before we found out I was a witch."
"What do you mean, do about you?" Ron asked.
Hermione cleared her throat, "You know, whether to take me out of this school and put me in that one, whether to tell the doctor about things that happened, whether to consult a psychologist, that sort of thing."
"You went to school before Hogwarts?"
"Several," Hermione answered. "It's not like in the wizarding world where children are taught at home, most Muggle children go to school around four or five."
"Really? Amazing. No wonder they're so clever. Still, it doesn't have to be about you." Ron said, without much conviction. "It could be anything. It could be teeth. They're loads of books about teeth in this house. There must be some sticking points."
Hermione smiled. "Somehow, I don't think it's that."
Ron cleared his throat. "You don't suppose they know about last night do you?"
Hermione sighed. "I told you, they already thought we were shagging, so I'm sure they assumed we were together last night."
"Right," Ron said, "but knowing and liking are two different things. Maybe, your Dad say, doesn't want us on the same floor and maybe your Mum sees it different."
"Maybe," Hermione said thoughtfully, "but I don't think that's it. They both took the news pretty well."
"How do you mean?" Ron asked.
Hermione shrugged. "Well, Mum seemed fine when I told her I knew how to cast a contraception charm and Dad seemed fine when I told him we were sleeping together."
Ron's eyes widened. "You told your Dad we're sleeping together? Are you mad?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "He asked me, Ron?"
"And about this you chose to be truthful? You're completely mental, you know that?"
"I don't know why this bothers you so."
He shook his head. "It bothers me because I've got to look your father in the eye knowing he knows that I…hang on…" He stood suddenly. "Hermione, you didn't cast a contraception charm last night." His face went pale.
Hermione looked thoughtful. "You know, I think you're right. I hope I'm not pregnant." Ron completely missed the wicked gleam in her eye.
He dropped on his knees in front of her. "Pregnant," he whispered. He looked at the floor for a moment. Hermione waited for the inevitable panic. Instead, he took her hands in his. "That's alright," he said, "that's alright. I've got several O.W.L.s; I can get a job. We'll get married, sooner rather than later. No one has to know this wasn't planned. We'll have to live with Mum and Dad for a while until I've got enough for a flat. Maybe I can work for Fred and George…I suppose we should tell your folks we're getting married while we're here."
Hermione was so touched by his response to her joke that she couldn't play it out anymore. "Ron, I'm not pregnant."
"Oh, Hermione," he said, looking up at her, "of course, you're pregnant. I'm a Weasley, hundreds of years of pure blood wizards all renowned for their virility."
Hermione suppressed a grin. "Ron, I cast the charm. I cast it before I went to your room."
"You did?" He sighed and dropped his head into her lap. "Oh, that's great. I didn't know how I was going to explain to Harry that we couldn't help him because you were pregnant and I had to get a job."
Hermione was stunned. That's what he was worried about? Not the prospect of marriage and fatherhood, but letting Harry down. He really was a wonderful man. "Oh, Ron," she said and threw her arms around him. "I wouldn't have teased you, if I'd known you be so sweet about it."
He hugged her back fiercely. "One day," he said seriously.
Hermione was shocked at his response. She herself felt in no way ready for those sorts of things. "All in good time," she said vaguely. "I think we should probably get ready."
Ron headed back to his room to shower and change and Hermione did the same. As she stood in the shower, she thought about everything that had happened over the last few weeks. When she was toweling off, she looked in the mirror and was surprised to see she really didn't look any different. She felt so different on the inside, it seemed like it should be more apparent on the outside. Several drying charms and two straightening charms later, her hair was piled into a bun. The day had been warm and she didn't want it on her neck as it had been while she and Ron had been touring. She pulled on a khaki skirt and a white T-shirt and sandals and walked out into the hall.
Ron was sitting at the top of the stairs waiting for her. He was wearing khaki shorts and a blue camp shirt and his trainers. His hair was still damp.
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked as she walked up behind him.
"I'm a little nervous about hanging about with your folks now that I know they know."
Hermione sighed. "Buck up, Ron, it's not as bad as all that."
"Well, I suppose it's better than a slap in the face with a wet kipper, but only just."
He slipped a finger under the hem of her skirt and looked up.
"Ron!" she said, pushing his hand away.
"What?" he said, defensively, "you've been a bit dodgy with the knickers lately; I thought I better check."
Her face flushed crimson. She brushed past him roughly and stomped down the stairs.
He laughed softly to himself as he followed her. That'll teach you to make pregnancy jokes.
