Charming


Disclaimer: I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. The idea of a charm that takes you to the place where you're most needed is from the Xanth series, by Piers Anthony.

Chapter Six : Trust

If there was one thing Robert Granger enjoyed in life, it was strategy games. He loved them all, from classics such as chess to the strategy RPGs for gaming consoles that were damned hard to import but that was better than waiting. And he didn't just like them – he was damned good at them as well. The one time his daughter's friend, Ron, had tried to challenge him at chess . . . well, Mr Granger had won in a bit over thirty minutes, and that was only because he was feeling generous. So it was no surprise that he was humming while he was working on dinner that night for he had employed one of his favorite tactics earlier: divide and conquer.

The old techniques always were the best.

For some reason or another, Hermione seemed to think that she could fool her parents. She had told them over and over again that even though she had moved into her best friend's tiny little flat almost immediately after Hogwarts, there was nothing between her and Harry. And all of that with a straight face even. It was incredible. He could hardly believe that his daughter, who he had always thought was so smart, could think for even a second that she could fool her old parents with such a story.

It almost made him wonder if Hermione really had been hurt that one time he had dropped her on her head when she was a baby. She had never shown any signs of being injured before – but it was best not to dwell on such topic. Anna, his wife, had always claimed that the drop had been bad for Hermione, and he didn't want to point out such proof to Anna if he could help it. Hence, he returned his attention to congratulating himself for such perfect plotting.

Besides, it was rather pleasing to be swinging a big chef's knife while his future son-in-law was nervously paring potatoes across from him. Once he started questioning Harry, the boy was sure to crumble and tell the complete truth. This was the one time he was rather glad that his daughter didn't share his affinity for chess and the like. If she had, surely she would have realized the dangers in leaving her boyfriend alone with him if she wanted to conceal the truth. And right now, he saw no reason to delay uncovering the truth for any longer.

"So Harry, how's living with Hermione been?" he asked, jumping right into the crux of the matter.

"Good," the boy mumbled in reply.

"Seems to me that your flat is rather small for two people," Mr Granger forged on.

"Well, yes, it is, but we make do."

"Oh?"

Harry jumped, realizing how his last sentence sounded. "Well, er . . . I mean, we . . . um, well, it took a bit of getting used to but it's all right now. We were in closer quarters at Hogwarts."

Out of the frying pan and into the fire, Mr Granger thought. This is sad. Hermione should have never let her boy out of her sight. "I thought they had separate dormitories for boys and girls there," he remarked.

"Yes, yes, of course," Harry uttered furiously. "But the dorms themselves were rather small, you know, and you get used to living so close with other people . . . "

"The girls dorm as well?"

"Yes, I—"

"So you've been in the girls dorm then?"

"No, no, they have alarms to prevent that," Harry replied quickly.

"But that means you tried," Mr Granger pointed out.

"Erm . . . well, both me and Ron tried, you see . . ."

"That's where you should've said nothing. Though that would have been incriminating as well." Mr Granger put the meat he had been chopping into a bowl, and carefully placed his knife in the sink. "Though 'incriminating' sounds bad and I didn't mean it like that. Let's see, how to put this?" He tapped his fingers against the counter. "It sounds suspicious, you see, Hermione moving into your tiny flat as soon as she was able. She's told us many time over that you two are just friends but . . . it makes a parent wonder, you know?"

"But we are just friends. Good friends, but only that," Harry said.

"Please. You're only making it worse on yourself by lying."

"But I'm not lying! And neither is she!"

"Can you look me in the eye and tell me that my daughter has never been in your bed?"

"Well, erm . . . actually . . ." Harry flushed deep red.

"Why don't you just say yes and get it over with?"

"It was only this morning, sir, and it wasn't like I was in bed with her or anything like that."

"Really?"

"Yes. I spent the night on the sofa."

"My daughter not attractive enough for you? Not good enough for you?" If his future son-in-law (aka his current victim) wanted to pretend like that, it was time to play hard ball.

"No, no, no," said Harry, waving his hands in front of him. "I didn't mean it like that of course. She's my best friend, and she's a lovely witch and it'll be a lucky bloke who gets to have her . . . but she's only my friends and I don't think of her as anything more and I know she thinks the same way and . . ."

"She has you well trained," Mr Granger commented. "Very well. I won't question you further. Though we didn't act like that in my day. Anna's parents knew about me almost before our first date." He sighed, remembering those days. "Just let us know officially before we become grandparents, okay?"

Beside him, Harry hung his head in defeat.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It had been bad night. If Harry thought his conversation with Mr Granger alone in the kitchen was bad, it got even worse when Hermione had excused herself from the dinner table. Fortunately, that was now over and Harry vowed not to return there for a very long time. It wasn't that he didn't like Hermione's parents; on the contrary, he thought they were great, but he didn't want to volunteer himself for another night of non-stop torture any time soon.

Sighing out loud, Hermione looked at Harry from out of the corner of her eye. "So, how bad was it?"

"How bad was what?" Harry asked absently.

"The interrogation."

"Huh?" Interrogation? he thought. What is she talking about? Did I miss something . . or does she mean—

"Don't tell me my dad didn't interrogate you," Hermione was already saying. "If he didn't, that would be a first."

"Oh . . . I didn't realize you gave it a name."

"Yeah, it has one. I hear all dads do it."

"Oh." They continued on in silence for a while before Harry spoke up again. "I think what made it bad was the fact I wasn't expecting it."

Hermione snorted. "You didn't expect it? I mean, it does look suspicious, don't you think? To them, I mean."

"Yeah, it does. I should've been suspicious, at the very least, when your dad asked for my help in the kitchen."

"And you so foolishly agreed to that."

"Hey! I like making myself useful. Besides, I wasn't invited and so I thought it would be best if I helped out . . ."

"You probably wound up making it worse for you. Did Dad have his big chef's knife out?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah . . . I thought he was going to hurt me when I said . . . "

"When you said what?"

"Um . . . nothing."

"That doesn't sound like nothing."

"No really, it's nothing. Or rather, I said nothing. That we're just friends. He didn't believe me."

"Surprise, surprise. Neither did my mum." Hermione sighed. "And I suppose you now know why I did move out."

"Um . . . actually, no I don't. Aside from having certain assumptions about our relationship, your parents seemed rather nice."

"They are nice people, good people. But . . . they can be awfully nosy, especially when it comes to me," Hermione said. "Sometimes, I hate being an only child. I think that perhaps they wouldn't always be so fussy if I had a brother or sister for them to worry about."

"That could be true," Harry agreed. He sighed, leaning his head back to look at the sky.

"Thinking about your next tryout?" Hermione asked softly.

"Yeah, that's been on my mind lately. I suppose that's because it's next week," he replied. "Though after tonight, I feel like that it has to be easier than eating dinner with your parents."

"Of course. There'll be no crazy fathers waving big knives in your faces."

"To be fair, he never waved the knife at me. I wasn't scared a bit."

"Not a bit?"

"Not at all." Harry smirked before continuing. "You see, I had my wand up my sleeve so I knew I was safe."

"Harry!" Hermione pounded his shoulder in mock anger. "That's my father you're talking about."

"Yes, your beloved dad, who had me cornered in the kitchen while he interrogated me."

"You set yourself up for that!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. See if I ever make that mistake again."

"I should hope not," Hermione said. "And I am sorry about that. I suppose I should've warned you. To me, it seems blazingly obvious that there's nothing between us except friendship, but my parents tend to leap to conclusions."

"You say that as if you never do the same."

"Harry."

"What?"

"You're on—"

"—Dangerous ground, yes I know," he finished for her. "I'm rather used to it, though. I've always been on dangerous ground around you." As he said that, he realized how true that was. He always had been on dangerous ground with Hermione. It was hard not to fall in love with someone who you've known so long and so closely. It didn't help right now that she looked absolutely beautiful, walking home tonight. He knew it was a cliché, but though Hermione wasn't traditionally beautiful, there was something about her that took his breath away. Perhaps it was in her eyes. She had big, beautiful brown eyes – it made him think that if a person's eyes were a window to the soul, then she had to be the loveliest person he ever looked at.

It made him wonder what it would be like to kiss her. He could almost imagine her sighing softly, before she leaned into him and his kiss . . . finally giving up on the illusion that they were so close because they were friends – and nothing more. He thought perhaps it would be better to try and see – rather than always and forever wonder.

But the moment was broken by Hermione pulling away from him to look at the stars. "I'm worried too, you know," she told him. "I know that tryout is hanging over your head . . . especially after last time. I worry about that too. I always seem to . . . well, it's easy to say that I'll face that problem when it comes but I seem to have this bad habit about borrowing trouble."

With the moment over, Harry began to berate himself internally for his earlier thoughts. What were you thinking, Harry? Too much listening to Hermione's parents . . . no, not that. Look at you! Go for a bit without any female attention and you're suddenly willing to jump to conclusions and on your best friend. How pathetic is that? Hermione deserves better than that, you prat. Like someone who can comfort her when she needs it, rather than just have to rein in his desires. "You wouldn't be Hermione if you didn't worry so much," Harry finally managed to reply, hoping to comfort her.

"But I suppose I'd be more fun to be with if I didn't always—"

"Who knows if you would be? Besides, I like you just the way you are." Hermione turned her head away from him after he said that, making Harry wonder if she was blushing. "Don't worry about that so much, Hermione. I – and Ron too of course – like you the way you are. You have your faults, everyone does, but that doesn't matter. If you want to worry about something, worry about something else, like—"

"Whether or not you'll get a bludger to the head in your next tryout?" Hermione asked wryly.

"Actually, I was going to suggest worrying about your own job interview. I can take care of myself out there," Harry said.

"You say that as if you've never been injured while playing," Hermione said, a tinge of exasperation in her voice.

"Yes, I have been hurt . . . but that adds a bit of excitement to the whole sport, don't you think?"

"I could live without that sort of excitement, thank you very much."

"I'm not surprised that you say so," Harry replied. "So, what about that position Ron was talking about last night?"

"Oh yeah . . . I'm meeting Ron for lunch tomorrow to talk about that. You can come along if you want," she told him.

"And interrupt the lovebirds? I think not," Harry said, smirking.

"Die Potter." Hermione soundly stomped on his foot. "Will you ever stop with your bad attempts at matchmaking?"

"And here I thought you wanted me to make you a match," said Harry.

"Only if you dress up as an old lady with a shawl over your head. If I get a photo of that and sell it, I won't need a job for the next year," she replied.

"Merlin, I can see the headlines now." Harry buried his head in his hands. "That would be awful."

"Yes, it would be." Hermione suddenly turned to face him and smiled. "And I think we've dawdled long enough. I hope you won't be this slow next week when it counts."

"Don't remind me. I'm trying to forget about it," said Harry.

"Scared?" Hermione asked.

"Not at all."

"More like terrified?"

"That's closer to the mark," admitted Harry. "But enough of this. Race you to the Apparition point," he challenged her.

"You're going down, Potter," she replied. Without bothering to wait for his answer, Hermione dashed off.

"Hey!" he called. "You're supposed to wait for me!"

"Consider it a handicap!" she answered back. Rolling his eyes, he set off after her. She had more than enough of a head start on him as it was.

Author's note: As always, reviews to let me know what you thought are appreciated. Also, thanks to Cool Like Ice, theph-34red, becka5, hajc, Fatima, bamaslamma29, Mella deRanged, Hermione2567, Korine (it's been forever since we last chatted!), L'eau Goddess, ears91, Ramy, PoTtErSPaYnE, yourfriendyou, chakitababi, TheSilverLady, Leah6, Star 19, BAD BOY HARRY, Blood57, sweatheart87, and :-D for their reviews of the chapter five. ^_^ Doumo arigatou gozaimashita!