A/N: I know that in the last chapter they sort of skip from the city to the
suburbs, so let's just say they apparated and we missed it, okay? Any new
characters introduced in this chapter are from the past and will not turn
into "Mary-sue" or "Joe Shmoe." They are solely for the purpose of saying
that there have been other people in Hermione's life since she left
England. Oh, by the way, I borrowed the Jr. Broomstick idea from Bella O.
All right, on with the fic.
But first, review replies:
Astral-monkey: PLEASE tell me you didn't turn the dryer on!
Adipodes Poe: Thanks for the compliment. I try so hard to have believable dialogue. I hate in movies, books, or fics when the dialogue is crap. It kills me.
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Harry gasped, "My dad! He's here?" Worry filled his eyes. "Is he here because I got in trouble?"
"Of course not," Hermione consoled. "He came to see me and we talked about you and we decided it was time for you two to meet each other. So do you want to?"
Harry gulped. "I'm scared."
"Of him?"
"That he won't like me."
"Harry," she looked at him meaningfully and comfortingly, "you have absolutely nothing to worry about. The question is, are you ready to meet him?"
Harry thought for a moment. He had wanted to meet the man in the picture beside his mother's bed since before he could remember, and now that he was presented with the opportunity, he was not sure that he wanted it.
"I can send him back to his hotel or his home if you want me to, but Harry, he really wants to get to know you." Hermione said solemnly.
"Okay," Harry nodded, puffing out his chest, "I'm ready."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ron watched the scene in silence, unable to hear what they were saying. He saw them turn and Hermione put a hand on the child's shoulder to guide him. He stood up and took a deep breath to calm himself.
The child looked extremely nervous but was making an obvious effort to hide it. Hermione stopped in front of Ron and said, "Say, 'hello,'"
"H-Hi." Ron said uneasily. "I'm..." Unsure of what to introduce himself as he looked to Hermione who mouthed, "Ron." "I'm Ron." He said looking at his son.
"Hi. I'm Harry." The child extended his hand.
Ron took it with both hands to shake, savoring the first contact with his son. He let go reluctantly as Harry looked at him questioningly. "So you're my dad?" He asked.
"I am." Ron nodded.
They stood in silence, searching each other's eyes. Ron wanted to reach out and hug him, hold him, never let him go. He loved this redheaded, freckle- faced boy more than anyone in the universe, and he'd only just met him. He suddenly resented Hermione for keeping Harry from him.
After a few moments Hermione spoke up, "It's getting a bit chilly out here. Let's get going home. You two can get acquainted better there. Come on." Hermione took Harry's hand and he reluctantly turned as she tugged at him to go with her. Ron followed.
They quickly exited the school parking lot, walked a few blocks, and came to a small, yellow house.
"Is this where you live?" Ron asked apprehensively.
"In the Muggle suburbs?" Hermione laughed as she knocked on the door. "Of course not. My cousin lives here. I use her address for the school and she's connected to the floo network. We get to my flat from here everyday. Isn't that right, Harry?"
"Mmm-hmm," Harry answered quietly, looking at his feet.
A young, blonde woman opened the entryway. She smiled and said, "Hi Hermio- " The woman stopped speaking and gasped upon seeing Ron standing beside Harry. She obviously recognized him. She tried to catch her breath and say something but no words came out.
"Hello Claire," Hermione said as if nothing had happened, "this is Ron. Ron, this is Claire."
Ron smiled benignly, "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Claire simply gaped.
"Well, we'll just be coming right through now," Hermione continued, stepping past her cousin and through the hall way and into the living room, Ron and Harry traveling close behind. She headed towards the mantle and pulled a small pot off of it. She lowered it to Harry's level and he took a handful of the powder within. He tossed it into the fireplace, hopped in and called, "My apartment!" He disappeared instantaneously.
Hermione took Ron's hand, pulled him in, and did the same. Ron waved to the still stunned woman, as he was sucked into the network of fireplaces.
He stepped out a moment later to find himself in a quaint little flat. The walls were painted a pale blue, and there was a small dining room table with a window to the kitchen beside it. He heard a door slam down the hall.
"Wait here." Hermione said, gesturing to the sofa in front of them. "Harry's very shy and I think he's really mad at me. I'm going to talk to him. I'll be back in a moment."
Ron nodded and headed for the couch, brushing the soot off of his clothes as he did. When he sat down, he scanned the top of the mantle. In the center there was a photograph of Harry and Hermione standing beside each other, waving merrily. Every so often Hermione would ruffle Harry's hair and he'd laugh. He watched the picture, entranced, for the few minutes before Hermione returned.
"He's ready to talk to you now." She said quietly.
Ron stood up. "Where-"
"First door on the left."
Ron nodded and headed down the hall. He stopped in front of the door he was told to go to. He took a deep breath and knocked softly. "Come in!" A voice called from inside. Ron turned the knob slowly and stepped into the small bedroom. It had light green walls, a full bookcase, a small desk, and most intriguing to Ron, a Chudley Cannon poster on the wall. Harry was seated on his bed looking at a picture book about Quidditch.
"Hi Harry." Ron smiled.
"Hi Ron." Harry replied. It send a pang to his heart that his own son called him by his first name, but he decided it would take a little bit of getting used to.
"So," Ron tried to make conversation, "you like Quidditch?"
Harry nodded enthusiastically. "I love it!" He exclaimed.
"Have you ever played?"
"Oh, yeah!" Harry dropped his book and leaned under his bed, pulling out a small broomstick labeled Cleansweep Jr. "Mom's old boyfriend, Albert, got me this broom. Mom didn't want him to, but when he said that he really wanted to Mom told him to get me a Cleansweep. He used to take me to the park and we'd play. He said I'd make a good seeker, but I like playing Keeper. But they broke up and I haven't played in a while." He babbled.
Ignoring the comments about Hermione's old boyfriend, Ron asked, "Did you know I used to play Keeper on a Cleansweep?"
"Really!?"
"Definitely." Ron sat up full of pride for both himself and his son. "I helped win the Quidditch Cup for my house team. They even made up a song about me."
"That's really cool. I can't wait to go to wizard school."
"It'll be time before you know it." Ron chuckled, looking around the room, his eyes falling once again on the Chudley Cannons poster. "So, you like the Cannons?"
"They're my favorite team!" Harry said joyfully. "Our neighbor, Mr. Shultz, has the Visual WWN and sometimes Mom lets me go over and watch them play."
"I have the VWWN at my hotel. I think there's a game on tonight. Would you like to come over and watch it with me?" Ron suggested hopefully, "That is, if your mum's all right with it."
"Well, come *on*!" Harry jumped off of the bed, grabbing Ron's arm. He dragged him from the bedroom across the hall into the room that appeared to be Hermione's. "Mom, can I *please* go with Ron to watch the Quidditch game at his hotel tonight, *please*?"
Hermione, who was sitting at her desk writing what appeared to be a letter, turned in her swivel chair, took one look at the grip Harry had on Ron and Ron's stiff awkwardness at being in her bedroom, and laughed. "I see you two are getting along fine."
"So can I go, Mom, please, can I go?" Harry questioned eagerly.
"It's a Friday night, I don't see why not. Just floo him home by nine." She said, looking up at Ron.
"No problem." Ron replied.
"Well let's go then!" Harry practically shouted, tugging Ron out of the room and to the fireplace. Hermione leapt up from her seat after them.
"Wait just a minute," she scolded. "Go put on a jumper, Harry."
"It's not cold," Harry whined.
"Go on, Harry. Wear the nice one your Grand-mum sent you."
"Do I *have* to?"
"Yes. Go."
Harry slumped away to his bedroom, and emerged a moment later wearing a maroon sweater with a large, green "H" on it. He looked rather uncomfortable.
"That's better." Hermione said, pulling the sweater down, and leaning over to give her son a kiss on the cheek, which he hastily wiped off. He galloped to Ron.
"Shall we?" Ron grinned, grabbing a fistful of floo-powder off the mantle in one hand and taking Harry's palm in the other. Harry nodded and they stepped onto the hearth. "Wizarding Waldorf!" Ron shouted and they were whisked away to the lobby of the resort.
They stepped out into the grandest entryway Harry had ever seen. "Wow," He whispered, taking in his surroundings.
"Just wait till you see Hogwarts. The great hall there makes this place look like a dump." Ron exaggerated.
Harry said nothing. He just followed Ron to the lift looking at all of the marble columns, high ceilings, and cushioned benches. They stepped into the small compartment and Ron clicked the "15" button. They arrived on Ron's floor and went to his room where he stated his password ("Diricawl").
Harry was equally impressed with the room his father was staying in. It had large windows, looking out onto the muggle part of the city and King-sized bed with a lovely duvet. Harry slipped his shoes off and threw his sweater on the floor.
Ron ordered room service and turned on the TV. They sat on bed, eating chicken, drinking pumpkin juice, and watching the Chudley Cannons lose terribly to Manchester United. "You know, I took the place of their keeper when he left Hogwarts" Ron had said. They talked about Quidditch and school. Harry told Ron how he had magical outbursts often and wished he didn't have to go to school. Ron told Harry about how much fun he would have when he went to Hogwarts, and how much his uncles and aunt would love him.
At the end of the night, Ron took Harry back down to the lobby and sent him home. "'Night, Dad!" Harry said, waving goodbye.
Ron held back tears of joy when he replied, "Good night, Son."
He headed back to his room in a daze from the day's events. He had found Hermione, met his son for the first time, and bonded with him like he'd always imagined bonding with his son.
When he arrived back at his room, he noticed that Harry had left his sweater. He picked it up. It was a home-knitted. He never knew Hermione's mum could knit. The wool felt soft and familiar.almost *too* familiar. He held it out to get a better look. It was a shade of maroon he knew all to well. The thickness of it was the same as all jumpers he'd worn all his life. He gasped with fury as realization struck him-this was clearly a Weasley sweater.
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A/N: Well, thank God I'm done with that chapter. Chapter 4 should be out much sooner. I actually know exactly what's going to happen. Now do me a teensy-tiny favor and review! Thank you so much! -Jody
But first, review replies:
Astral-monkey: PLEASE tell me you didn't turn the dryer on!
Adipodes Poe: Thanks for the compliment. I try so hard to have believable dialogue. I hate in movies, books, or fics when the dialogue is crap. It kills me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry gasped, "My dad! He's here?" Worry filled his eyes. "Is he here because I got in trouble?"
"Of course not," Hermione consoled. "He came to see me and we talked about you and we decided it was time for you two to meet each other. So do you want to?"
Harry gulped. "I'm scared."
"Of him?"
"That he won't like me."
"Harry," she looked at him meaningfully and comfortingly, "you have absolutely nothing to worry about. The question is, are you ready to meet him?"
Harry thought for a moment. He had wanted to meet the man in the picture beside his mother's bed since before he could remember, and now that he was presented with the opportunity, he was not sure that he wanted it.
"I can send him back to his hotel or his home if you want me to, but Harry, he really wants to get to know you." Hermione said solemnly.
"Okay," Harry nodded, puffing out his chest, "I'm ready."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ron watched the scene in silence, unable to hear what they were saying. He saw them turn and Hermione put a hand on the child's shoulder to guide him. He stood up and took a deep breath to calm himself.
The child looked extremely nervous but was making an obvious effort to hide it. Hermione stopped in front of Ron and said, "Say, 'hello,'"
"H-Hi." Ron said uneasily. "I'm..." Unsure of what to introduce himself as he looked to Hermione who mouthed, "Ron." "I'm Ron." He said looking at his son.
"Hi. I'm Harry." The child extended his hand.
Ron took it with both hands to shake, savoring the first contact with his son. He let go reluctantly as Harry looked at him questioningly. "So you're my dad?" He asked.
"I am." Ron nodded.
They stood in silence, searching each other's eyes. Ron wanted to reach out and hug him, hold him, never let him go. He loved this redheaded, freckle- faced boy more than anyone in the universe, and he'd only just met him. He suddenly resented Hermione for keeping Harry from him.
After a few moments Hermione spoke up, "It's getting a bit chilly out here. Let's get going home. You two can get acquainted better there. Come on." Hermione took Harry's hand and he reluctantly turned as she tugged at him to go with her. Ron followed.
They quickly exited the school parking lot, walked a few blocks, and came to a small, yellow house.
"Is this where you live?" Ron asked apprehensively.
"In the Muggle suburbs?" Hermione laughed as she knocked on the door. "Of course not. My cousin lives here. I use her address for the school and she's connected to the floo network. We get to my flat from here everyday. Isn't that right, Harry?"
"Mmm-hmm," Harry answered quietly, looking at his feet.
A young, blonde woman opened the entryway. She smiled and said, "Hi Hermio- " The woman stopped speaking and gasped upon seeing Ron standing beside Harry. She obviously recognized him. She tried to catch her breath and say something but no words came out.
"Hello Claire," Hermione said as if nothing had happened, "this is Ron. Ron, this is Claire."
Ron smiled benignly, "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Claire simply gaped.
"Well, we'll just be coming right through now," Hermione continued, stepping past her cousin and through the hall way and into the living room, Ron and Harry traveling close behind. She headed towards the mantle and pulled a small pot off of it. She lowered it to Harry's level and he took a handful of the powder within. He tossed it into the fireplace, hopped in and called, "My apartment!" He disappeared instantaneously.
Hermione took Ron's hand, pulled him in, and did the same. Ron waved to the still stunned woman, as he was sucked into the network of fireplaces.
He stepped out a moment later to find himself in a quaint little flat. The walls were painted a pale blue, and there was a small dining room table with a window to the kitchen beside it. He heard a door slam down the hall.
"Wait here." Hermione said, gesturing to the sofa in front of them. "Harry's very shy and I think he's really mad at me. I'm going to talk to him. I'll be back in a moment."
Ron nodded and headed for the couch, brushing the soot off of his clothes as he did. When he sat down, he scanned the top of the mantle. In the center there was a photograph of Harry and Hermione standing beside each other, waving merrily. Every so often Hermione would ruffle Harry's hair and he'd laugh. He watched the picture, entranced, for the few minutes before Hermione returned.
"He's ready to talk to you now." She said quietly.
Ron stood up. "Where-"
"First door on the left."
Ron nodded and headed down the hall. He stopped in front of the door he was told to go to. He took a deep breath and knocked softly. "Come in!" A voice called from inside. Ron turned the knob slowly and stepped into the small bedroom. It had light green walls, a full bookcase, a small desk, and most intriguing to Ron, a Chudley Cannon poster on the wall. Harry was seated on his bed looking at a picture book about Quidditch.
"Hi Harry." Ron smiled.
"Hi Ron." Harry replied. It send a pang to his heart that his own son called him by his first name, but he decided it would take a little bit of getting used to.
"So," Ron tried to make conversation, "you like Quidditch?"
Harry nodded enthusiastically. "I love it!" He exclaimed.
"Have you ever played?"
"Oh, yeah!" Harry dropped his book and leaned under his bed, pulling out a small broomstick labeled Cleansweep Jr. "Mom's old boyfriend, Albert, got me this broom. Mom didn't want him to, but when he said that he really wanted to Mom told him to get me a Cleansweep. He used to take me to the park and we'd play. He said I'd make a good seeker, but I like playing Keeper. But they broke up and I haven't played in a while." He babbled.
Ignoring the comments about Hermione's old boyfriend, Ron asked, "Did you know I used to play Keeper on a Cleansweep?"
"Really!?"
"Definitely." Ron sat up full of pride for both himself and his son. "I helped win the Quidditch Cup for my house team. They even made up a song about me."
"That's really cool. I can't wait to go to wizard school."
"It'll be time before you know it." Ron chuckled, looking around the room, his eyes falling once again on the Chudley Cannons poster. "So, you like the Cannons?"
"They're my favorite team!" Harry said joyfully. "Our neighbor, Mr. Shultz, has the Visual WWN and sometimes Mom lets me go over and watch them play."
"I have the VWWN at my hotel. I think there's a game on tonight. Would you like to come over and watch it with me?" Ron suggested hopefully, "That is, if your mum's all right with it."
"Well, come *on*!" Harry jumped off of the bed, grabbing Ron's arm. He dragged him from the bedroom across the hall into the room that appeared to be Hermione's. "Mom, can I *please* go with Ron to watch the Quidditch game at his hotel tonight, *please*?"
Hermione, who was sitting at her desk writing what appeared to be a letter, turned in her swivel chair, took one look at the grip Harry had on Ron and Ron's stiff awkwardness at being in her bedroom, and laughed. "I see you two are getting along fine."
"So can I go, Mom, please, can I go?" Harry questioned eagerly.
"It's a Friday night, I don't see why not. Just floo him home by nine." She said, looking up at Ron.
"No problem." Ron replied.
"Well let's go then!" Harry practically shouted, tugging Ron out of the room and to the fireplace. Hermione leapt up from her seat after them.
"Wait just a minute," she scolded. "Go put on a jumper, Harry."
"It's not cold," Harry whined.
"Go on, Harry. Wear the nice one your Grand-mum sent you."
"Do I *have* to?"
"Yes. Go."
Harry slumped away to his bedroom, and emerged a moment later wearing a maroon sweater with a large, green "H" on it. He looked rather uncomfortable.
"That's better." Hermione said, pulling the sweater down, and leaning over to give her son a kiss on the cheek, which he hastily wiped off. He galloped to Ron.
"Shall we?" Ron grinned, grabbing a fistful of floo-powder off the mantle in one hand and taking Harry's palm in the other. Harry nodded and they stepped onto the hearth. "Wizarding Waldorf!" Ron shouted and they were whisked away to the lobby of the resort.
They stepped out into the grandest entryway Harry had ever seen. "Wow," He whispered, taking in his surroundings.
"Just wait till you see Hogwarts. The great hall there makes this place look like a dump." Ron exaggerated.
Harry said nothing. He just followed Ron to the lift looking at all of the marble columns, high ceilings, and cushioned benches. They stepped into the small compartment and Ron clicked the "15" button. They arrived on Ron's floor and went to his room where he stated his password ("Diricawl").
Harry was equally impressed with the room his father was staying in. It had large windows, looking out onto the muggle part of the city and King-sized bed with a lovely duvet. Harry slipped his shoes off and threw his sweater on the floor.
Ron ordered room service and turned on the TV. They sat on bed, eating chicken, drinking pumpkin juice, and watching the Chudley Cannons lose terribly to Manchester United. "You know, I took the place of their keeper when he left Hogwarts" Ron had said. They talked about Quidditch and school. Harry told Ron how he had magical outbursts often and wished he didn't have to go to school. Ron told Harry about how much fun he would have when he went to Hogwarts, and how much his uncles and aunt would love him.
At the end of the night, Ron took Harry back down to the lobby and sent him home. "'Night, Dad!" Harry said, waving goodbye.
Ron held back tears of joy when he replied, "Good night, Son."
He headed back to his room in a daze from the day's events. He had found Hermione, met his son for the first time, and bonded with him like he'd always imagined bonding with his son.
When he arrived back at his room, he noticed that Harry had left his sweater. He picked it up. It was a home-knitted. He never knew Hermione's mum could knit. The wool felt soft and familiar.almost *too* familiar. He held it out to get a better look. It was a shade of maroon he knew all to well. The thickness of it was the same as all jumpers he'd worn all his life. He gasped with fury as realization struck him-this was clearly a Weasley sweater.
~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Well, thank God I'm done with that chapter. Chapter 4 should be out much sooner. I actually know exactly what's going to happen. Now do me a teensy-tiny favor and review! Thank you so much! -Jody