A/N: I know it's been a while since I updated and I said I was going to do it sooner, but I didn't. But since only like one person reviewed (thank you by the way), I didn't make it much my main priority. I hope you guys will keep in mind that it is H/HR. I never said their journey would be easy! If you're looking for fluff, you're reading in the wrong place. Thanks a lot for still reading! Please Review!

Chapter Nine: Meet the Parents

After yet another night at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry, whom routinely followed Hermione whenever she left the building, was now sitting in the taxicab having breakfast with the driver whom he had hired to chauffer him during these escapades.

"Here we go again!" the driver exclaimed as he spotted Hermione leaving their flat. He quickly started the car and took off. "I hope she's not going to visit her mother again."

"I don't think so," Harry said.

"Me wife don't like me to do this," the driver complained, shaking his head, "This is like driving private. I don't get any freedom."

"You're getting paid, aren't you?" Harry rebutted, without taking his eyes off her.

"You owe me some more money," the driver reminded him.

"I gave you twenty pounds the day before yesterday," Harry said, now seeing Hermione get into a cab.

"You used that up two days ago," he told him.

"I'll pay you later!" Harry assured him, "Don't lose her."

"How did you become a private detective anyway?" the driver asked.

"My whole family are private detectives," he answered casually.

"This must be costing her husband loads of money," the driver said, "And you want to know my opinion?"

"What?"

"You're not going to catch her at anything. She's pretty foxy," he observed.

"Oh I don't know," Harry replied.

"You know what we ought to do this afternoon?" the driver suggested, "We ought to go to a show. This bird isn't going to do anything this afternoon."

"In the afternoon is when you catch them," Harry said snidely.

"No kidding?" the driver pondered for a moment, "That's funny; I wonder where does my wife go every afternoon?"

They followed Hermione's cab until she reached the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry perked up, "Hey look! She's going to go visit me!" They watched from across the street as she stepped out of the car and walked into the building. He waited until the coast is clear before heading quickly across the street before he could lose her.

As it turned out, Hermione did not stop at the Leaky Cauldron, but headed straight for Diagon Alley. Harry trailed from far behind as he saw her make her way into the Quidditch Stadium.

He picked up the pace and raced into the lobby.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter," Penelope greeted.

"Good morning," Harry said hastily as he dashed towards his own office.

"There's someone waiting for you in the office," she called out.

Harry turned to her with a satisfied, knowing grin, "That's perfectly alright!" He entered the room, expecting to see Hermione when a male voice startled him.

"Well, Mr. Potter! It's about time!"

Harry abruptly turned to the couch and found a short, little bald clumsy looking man looking at him.

"Oh," Harry replied with a slight, but obvious disappointment in his voice, "How do you do, Mr.—uh—umm—"

"You've even forgotten my name," the man said resentfully, "My name is Conway, I'm a representative for the International Quidditch Association. The board needs your signature on those contract agreements we sent you weeks ago! No work can be done without them."

"Oh yes of course, Mr. Conway," Harry chuckled nervously, completely unprepared for this moment, "Why don't you sit down," he suggested.

Conway gave him an odd look as Harry realized embarrassingly that he was already sitting. The man rose up from his seat, his face scrunched up in agitation, "I made up my mind I was going to see you if it takes me all week and it has taking me all week! Where have you been?"

Harry stepped back towards the door, "Now just relax, Mr. Conner. If you'll lie down there for a minute, I'll retrieve that paperwork."

"My name is Conway!" the man corrected him, "I've been sleeping here so much I can't sleep at home!"

Harry swiftly walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. "Where did my wife go?" he asked Penelope.

"She's in Mr. Weasley's office," Penelope answered, "His parents' surprised him."

A wave of jealously consumed him as he slowly made his way towards Ron's office.

"But what about Mr. Conway?" she asked.

Harry merely gestured a short wave of dismissal. Composing himself, he casually walked into the office.

"Hello Ron," he greeted him cheerfully. As all eyes turned to him, he plastered an expression of surprise on his face, "Oh, excuse me." He swiftly made his way over to Ron, who was sitting on his desk. "About poor old Conway," Harry told him in a business like manner, "The team and I had discussed some matters and you have to tell him that unless some demands are met, I'm refusing to sign." He glanced over at Hermione, who now seems to be fidgeting in her seat, between Ron's parents.

"Why hello Harry!" Mrs. Weasley greeted him warmly.

"Harry my boy!" Mr. Weasley said, offering his hand.

"Harry, you remember my parents of course," Ron said, trying to hide the awkwardness in his voice.

Harry received Mr. Weasley's hand, "Why yes of course, how do you do sir. It's a pleasure to see you."

"The pleasure's all mine," Mr. Weasley replied graciously.

"Ronald's written and written all about you to us. You'll always be one of the family," Mrs. Weasley added, "Hermione, you remember Harry don't you? It's been years since Hogwarts!"

Harry realized now that Ron had never told his parents about his marriage to Hermione. He knew what a fuss they would have made back when they were so young.

"We met sometime ago," Hermione replied through her teeth, trying as hard as she could to suppress her agitated state.

"Yes, we know one another very well," Harry mentioned slyly with a smirk.

"Oh of course, you've probably seen a great deal of her," Mrs. Weasley commented, quite oblivious to the meaning of that remark.

"Yes, I have, a great deal," Harry stressed, "Oh, um, I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

"Sit right down boy," Mr. Weasley instructed cheerfully, "We'll all get reacquainted at once."

Hermione flinched slightly at the suggestion. She knew he was up to something.

Mr. Weasley continued, "We haven't seen dear Hermione here since graduation, and we find out now that she and Ron have been quite sweet on each other."

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley interrupted, embarrassed by her husband's openness on the subject.

"Harry probably knows it better than we do, don't you Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked, ignoring her remark.

"Oh yes yes, of course," Harry replied nonchalantly, "If it hadn't been for me, they never even would have gotten together."

Hermione eyes grew wider as the conversation continued. Every time the Weasley's would look away, she would glare at Harry with a horrible, seemingly intense loathing.

"That's so romantic," Mrs. Weasley sighed, "You know what I was thinking?"

"What, Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione asked with a forced smile across her face.

"If two people wanted to go on a honeymoon, they could just fly out to the peaceful English midlands, stop right by the Burrow, and spend the time over by that lovely lake," she said.

"Flying can be a very romantic activity for two people," Mr. Weasley added.

"That wouldn't be very good for Mione," Harry interjected as he stepped in front of Ron, "You remember how sick you were the first time I took you flying out by the Quidditch Pitch during our last year at Hogwarts?" he recalled, "She's not a very good flyer," he turned to Ron, "And I can give you some good practical advice on that too. Whenever she gets on a broom, don't let her have anything to eat, even if she wants to. If she still feels queasy afterwards, just put her to bed and put a hot water bottle on her stomach and hold it there no matter how much she hollers. That settles her stomach," he explained as if he were reading dog-training instructions.

Hermione laughed nervously, "He considers himself quite a medical authority." Trying to change the subject she turned to Mrs. Weasley with great interest, "And how do you like staying in London? I know you've been here many times before but you never really spend anytime here."

"Oh fine," Mrs. Weasley answered, "It's so big though, with everyone, muggles and wizards rushing around."

"I'm afraid that's rather deceiving, we're really one big happy family here," Harry told her happily, "Of course there are one thousand and one little things that go on underneath the surface and –oh that reminds me," he looked over at Hermione, "What about my laundry? I haven't any more shorts!"

Hermione flinched as she averted her eyes to the floor, completely embarrassed as the two parents focused their attention to her.

"Uh...Hermione kind of took care of his things around the house," Ron quickly explained.

"Little household things," Hermione added uneasily.

"And one of the best housekeepers you ever saw," Harry boasted with a hearty chuckle, "I suppose you're wondering about us. Well it's quite simple," he explained offhandedly, "I've known Hermione for a long time and wanted to marry her. Still do as a matter of fact, but well," he looked down glumly, "fortunes of war."

"Oh," Mrs. Weasley uttered, her cheery disposition now gone, "I see."

"And let me tell you something," Harry continued in a more serious tone, "I know of no finer compliment that I can pay to any girl than to tell you this," he stood up, "When a man has been sitting across the breakfast table from the same woman for three solid years and still wants to marry her, well, she's quite a girl."

Hermione slouched down even further as she felt the uncomfortable gaze from Ron's parents. Unable to think of anything to say, she remained completely still.

Mr. Weasley stood up to break the moment of silence, "Ronald, may I see you in private please?" His face told him that he was not pleased, "Come along Molly,"

"Will you excuse us for a moment please?" Mrs. Weasley said to Hermione in a stern manner.

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Hermione waited until Ron's family was out of earshot. "Are you satisfied now?" she asked Harry accusingly, "Are you satisfied to take two fine people like that whose whole lives are wrapped up around their children and make them unhappy?"

"What about me being unhappy?" Harry retorted.

Her nostrils flared, "All you ever think about is yourself! I can't see how you could have been associated with Ron for soon long and not gotten some of his fine qualities."

"What's fine about him?" he asked bitterly.

"Well, he's kind, and simple and gentle," Hermione told him in a softer tone of voice.

"Oh, you're in one of your romantic moods again," Harry said mockingly, "That's been the trouble since the beginning! And since when have you been so crazy about the gentle act?" he asked, staring straight into her eyes, "Shall I recall to you how I got this?" he pointed to the smaller scar on the side of his forehead, "A bed lamp!"

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Meanwhile, Mr. Weasley led them into the lavatory in Ron's office. The three of them are now standing inside, crowded as Ron closed the door after him.

Ron's father wasted no time, "What kind of girl are you taking up with now? I always thought Hermione was such a sweet child, but now---"

"Father, I know it's sounded very confusing—"Ron started to say.

"I wasn't confused at all! Sending him shorts? His laundry?" Mrs. Weasley recalled.

"Three years breakfast!" Mr. Weasley added.

"Well, they have a very peculiar relationship," he told them.

"Are they married?" Mr. Weasley asked suspiciously.

"Not exactly," Ron replied.

"Not exactly?" his mother repeated with an eyebrow raised.

"Now please," he pleaded desperately, "You mustn't get the wrong idea about Hermione. When you get to know her now, you'll find that she has what every man wants in a wife. I've known her a long time and the goodness in her will never change." He drew in a breath and waited. Noticing his parents' expressions soften, he continued, "Now mother, I'm going to bring Hermione up to the Burrow to visit. We can all spend a relaxing weekend over by the lake."

"Maybe we're being too hasty Arthur," Mrs. Weasley sighed, "We'll make the reservations for the children for next weekend."

"I don't want to seem too harsh," Mr. Weasley agreed, "Alright Ron; we'll try and forget all this."

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