Prompt: Boyfriend
From: ilovemusicforever
Word Count: 2,845
Sometimes he thinks that Rose always forgets that she's his little girl, no matter how many times he points it out to her.
Like on the day that she decided that she wanted to learn more about putting on makeup. She had approached Hermione with two million questions and an eye pencil after dinner one night, while Ron was in the other room washing the dishes and Hugo was taking Otter for his nightly walk. Hermione, having never really paid much attention to makeup, took one look at the pencil and calmly suggested that Rose go visit Aunt Ginny with this question. Ron, for his part, had always wondered how Hermione could be so calm in a situation such as this. He remembers, to this day, charging at Hermione after Rose had left and demanding to know how she could be so nonchalant about Rose wanting to put on makeup. Hermione had told him that he was over reacting and, after a bit of soul searching, Ron realized for the first time how terrified he was of Rosie growing up.
Okay. Maybe it hadn't been the first time. Maybe he had known it for a long time, and he merely had needed it to be affirmed again. Either way, it wasn't any easier to watch the girl that had once been a squirming baby evolve into a little adult right before his eyes.
This is the same situation.
The first time he had heard of Rose's new boyfriend had been accidentally. The weather had been deceptively nice, and at first he had looked upon this as a blessing. After all, a nice day meant Quidditch with Harry, George, and Bill. Ever since their children had gone to school, all of them had been at a loss for things to do on Saturdays, so their wives had teamed up and solved their problem. While Ginny, Fleur, Angelina, and Hermione sat below them, the boys would play a rousing game of two-a-side Quidditch. Never mind the fact that they were all middle aged men.
For weeks after the event had transpired, Ron had wished that he had never decided to say Quidditch, because then he wouldn't have become thirsty, and then he wouldn't have had to land. To be fair, it was probably a bad idea to land behind the woman, but he had been eager to avoid getting sucked into their boring conversations about periods or shopping or whatever the hell birds chatted about when they were together. But as he had stealthily tiptoed towards the tea and biscuits, hoping to snag some lemonade and be gone as quickly as possible, he had heard the words that he hadn't even realized he had been dreading.
"Rose has her first boyfriend."
Hermione didn't state this fact like it was earth shattering. As a matter of fact, she hadn't sounded particularly upset at all. The ladies around her squealed, as though they were not aware of Rose's innocence being crushed into smithereens as they spoke.
"How do you know?" Ginny had asked excitedly.
"She sent me a separate letter. Poor dear was too embarrassed to let her father know. I think she's afraid of his reaction."
Damn straight she should be, Ron had thought, feeling particularly murderous. The bright blue sky seemed to taunt him. It was as deceptive as the boy who would inevitably break his daughter's heart.
"Oh, you're so lucky!" Ginny sighed enviously. "My boys won't tell me a thing."
"Neither will Fred," Angelina had interjected.
"Victoire tells me everything, but not so much with Dominique," Fleur had stated. "Children are funny that way."
And then they had launched into some completely useless discussion regarding recent studies about what bits of parenting would make children grow up into more tolerable teenagers and Ron had decided to fly away on his broomstick and make the muscles in his arm stronger so that he'd have more fun bringing pain down upon the puny pipsqueak that had dared to make advances towards Rose.
Now, as Ron stands waiting on the platform, he decides that his fury back then is nothing in comparison to how he feels when he's about to lay eyes on the prick. Hermione is next to him, her hand on his arm, radiating calm towards him. It isn't going to work. He can tell that she's remaining especially relaxed to balance out his rage, but it's not like that's going to make him less pissed off at the universe for forcing his daughter to get a boyfriend.
"I know what you're doing," he mutters to his wife, teeth clenched.
"I'm not doing anything," Hermione murmurs serenely. "And need I remind you- neither is Jeff."
"What does Jeff have to do with this?" Ron spits out under his breath. Hermione doesn't answer, and a glance towards her shows that she's struggling not to laugh.
"You're wound up because Rose said she would introduce us to him."
"I am not!" Ron responds petulantly.
"If you think you can fool me, take your age and then subtract eleven from it. That's how long we've known each other," Hermione smirks. "Come on, sweetheart. You're kidding yourself."
"Okay, point taken," grumbles Ron.
"He's just a boy," Hermione says soothingly. "He hasn't done anything except fancy your daughter."
"I know what fifteen year old boys are after, Hermione. I was a fifteen year old boy once. The only thing I thought about for the entirety of fourth year was getting into your knickers."
"What a lovely sentiment. I'm so glad we got married."
"I'm serious, Hermione! It wasn't about your personality at that point; it was basically all about your tits."
"Well, that's very sweet, considering that I barely had any when I was fifteen."
"This wanker is going to be thinking the same way about Rose," he says insistently in her ear.
Hermione doesn't look at him, instead choosing to eye the platform, trying to see over the heads of the students starting to file off of the train.
"Either way, dear, if we ended up married, so could they. With that in mind, I would be on my best behavior today."
"She said she wanted to marry him?" Ron yelps.
"No, I said… oh, you really are impossible," Hermione sighs, leaning up on her tiptoes to chastely kiss him.
"Um, mum? Dad?"
Hermione pulls back immediately, smiling as she sees her daughter.
"Hi, darling!" she says, rushing forward to embrace Rose. Rose hugs her mother back tightly, but her eyes are on her father, who has his eyes on the git that is standing awkwardly behind his firstborn child. "How was your trip?"
"It was fine," says Rose, still eying her father warily. Her gaze instructs him to stay on his best behavior. In response, he puffs out his chest importantly. "Mum, dad… this is Jeff."
"Lovely to meet you," Hermione says pleasantly, reaching out to shake his hand.
"Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Weasley," Jeff says in return, sticking out his own hand shakily. "And Mr. Weasley."
Ron gives him a firm handshake, glaring at Jeff down his long nose. Hermione looks like she's going to burst out laughing, while Rose's eyes are so wide that she would give Luna Lovegood a run for her money. Meanwhile, Jeff seems to swallow nervously as he extracts his hand and wipes it on his trousers.
"Jeff, what House are you in?" Hermione inquires. Her voice is gentle, as though he's an animal that might run away at loud noises.
"Er- Grffindor," Jeff tells her, his eyes still on Ron.
The three of them stand there in an awkward silence until Hugo's arrival.
"Mum! Dad! Hi!" he chatters happily. He drops his owl cage and gives the two of them tight hugs. "Can I have a sleepover with Robert?"
"Oi! You just got home for the summer. What about us?" Ron asks indignantly.
"Oh. Yes. You're nice," Hugo replies, pushing his glasses up his nose innocently. "Robert stole his brother's left over sixth year potions kit, though, so we're gonna try to make… um… a potion."
"What potion, exactly?" Hermione questions, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
"Um… er… oh look! Rosie has a boyfriend!"
"Little late on that, love, your father already knows."
"Rats. Well, can I go anyways?"
"We'll talk about this at home," Hermione says, and Ron picks up Hugo's trunk and puts it on the cart. "Jeff, it was lovely to meet you. I hope you'll come over for tea sometime."
Ron glares at her.
"Bye, Jeff," Rose says. Jeff goes in for a kiss, but, with a frightened glance at Ron, hugs her instead. Ron looks extremely satisfied with himself, causing his wife to snort.
The small family starts to head to the car, with Ron swirling the keys agitatedly in his trouser pocket.
"Ron, why don't you let me drive home?" Hermione prods. He hands her the keys wordlessly.
They reach the car after a fairly silent walk, the only sounds coming from Rose shoving Hugo away from her once or twice when he had accidentally walked into her. Hermione gets into the driver's seat while Ron puts the trunks in the engorged back of the car, the tips of his ears still slightly red. He gets into the car next to her and tries to ignore the knowing smile that is on her lips.
Rose climbs into the car, dragging Hugo behind her. He lets her, looking slightly frightened by her aggression. Rose had honestly gotten the worst of both Ron and Hermione's tempers, while neither of them had any idea where Hugo's temperament came from. You could poke him with a stick and all he would do was stare at you dolefully.
They ride in the same silence as before, but it's so different from what their car rides usually are like. Ron's mood is so evident in his countenance that both children are afraid of saying anything that might set him off.
"How was your year, you two?" Hermione asks from the driver's seat.
"Good," they chorus. She waits for the competition to start over who had a more successful year, but neither child ventures an elaboration. Hermione gives Ron a sideways glare, but he just shrugs as though it isn't his fault.
A proper distraction is provided when Rose starts to yell at Hugo for breathing wrong, so Hermione takes her chance.
"You're going to be in so much trouble later," she whispers to him. "I hope you know that."
He wants to reply, but the argument stops, so all he can do is stare at her with puppy dog eyes and hope that it works, even though it probably won't. Ever since their children had been born, Ron's puppy dog eyes don't work on Hermione unless she is really randy and is finding him more attractive than usual.
She rolls her eyes at his stare. No dice.
They pull into their driveway and the two children rush out of the car to find Otter and smother him.
"We really should have warned Otter about the incoming onslaught," Ron comments as he tugs the trunks out.
"Mmm," Hermione hums in agreement.
"Oh, come on, you're mad at me for this?"
Hermione turns to him, looking surprised. She places a hand on her heart.
"I didn't say anything."
"That's exactly the point, Hermione!"
"Oh, husband, I could never point out your wrongdoings to you. Everything you do is absolutely correct and I exist merely to cook your dinner and raise your children."
Ron closes the trunk hard.
"You really need to stop watching The Donna Reed Show when you visit your mum."
Hermione pulls a face.
"Okay, point taken. Just… apologize to your daughter, please?"
"About what?" Ron requests.
"You know."
"I don't know!"
"Maybe you'll know after a few days without sex."
It's an empty threat, as they both know that she can barely hold out longer that he can, but the fact that she's using it shows how important it is to her. He sighs and bends down a bit to kiss the top of her nose.
"I'll talk to her."
"Good. Now I'm off to cook your dinner and raise your children," she says stoutly, walking backwards towards the house.
Ron salutes her.
"And a mighty fine job you're doing, at that."
He finds Rosie sitting on the swing in the backyard and rocking gently to the sound of some music wafting from the tip of her wand.
"Underage magic!" Ron gasps mockingly, pointing to Rose's wand and causing Rose to laugh.
"You know as well as I do that they can't tell who the magic is coming from, only where it is. It's not like we live in a muggle community."
Ron sits down next to her, landing on the swing with as little grace as a person could possibly muster.
"You're too smart for me, Rosie," he tells her. "You win again."
"Like with wizard's chess," Rose says smugly.
Ron looks affronted.
"Hey! I beat you way more than you beat me."
"Yes, but it's the losses that haunt you at night, isn't it?" Rose smirks.
"I raised you to be just like me. Oh god, your mum is going to kill me."
Rose pats his arm comfortingly.
"To be fair, she married you in spite of your outwardly competitive nature. She had to know that at least one of your children was going to be nearly as insane about it as you."
"I think she was hoping it would be Hugo."
Rose snorts.
"Yeah, it's probably more graceful on a boy."
"Definitely."
"Okay, so our family defies gender stereotypes. Go us."
"Hey Rose?" Ron says, cutting her off. "I'm sorry if I was rude to your boyfriend."
Rose looks startled.
"You are?"
"Well, mostly I'm sorry because mum is mad at me about it. But I'm also sorry because I love you and I want you to be happy, even if it means hanging around with a tosspot during your Hogwarts days."
"He's not a tosspot," Rose says defensively. "Do you honestly think so little of me that I would date a tosspot?"
"Well, often boys are hidden tosspots. They don't seem like tosspots at first, but then they reveal their tosspot nature and… I just don't want you to get hurt."
"I'm certainly going to get hurt," Rose points out. "That's just a fact of life. But I know that when I do, I have a wonderful father, fantastic Uncles, and several phenomenal cousins to help me beat him up through my tears. And you gave me all that. So even when you're being nice to my boyfriend, I know that you'll protect me in the end. But it's not the end yet, dad. Don't jump the shark."
"Fair enough," Ron agrees.
"I love you, daddy," Rose says quietly, leaning over to hug him. "And now you'd better go tell mom that I forgive you, because I totally heard her tell Hugo that she isn't going to make dessert tonight."
"Shit," Ron swears, leaping off of the chair and catapulting himself inside for the amusement of his daughter.
Hermione is in the kitchen, humming softly along to the radio. Ron hops onto the counter next to the stove and gives her his most winning grin.
"Our daughter doesn't hate me anymore."
"Mmm. I didn't think she would for very long."
"You're always right."
"I know. And I enjoy that immensely."
She's smirking, so Ron decides to take her down a peg by reaching into the pot and grabbing a piece of sausage. Hermione slaps his hand away. He manages to eat it anyways.
"Sorry, love," he grins.
She shakes her head, but she really doesn't seem that upset. There's something relaxing about having the kids home from school. Life is about to get far more hectic, but after going several months without being a family, the idea of having two more places to set at the table thrills both of them.
"Ron, did you even take a look at that boy?"
"What boy?"
"Jeff, you loveable idiot."
"Oh. I guess. I don't know. Why?"
"Tall. Gangly. Pale. Freckled. Remind you of anyone?"
Ron looks nonplussed.
"Um… no?"
"He's basically a brunet version of you, honey. Your daughter loves you so much that she looked for a boyfriend with similar qualities to her father."
"That is both untrue and very strange."
"Scientific studies show that girls go for boys like their fathers and boys go for girls like their mothers."
"Good luck to Hugo," Ron huffs. "Finding a woman like his mother is going to be harder than he thinks."
"Well, Rose will be lucky if she finds a man half as wonderful as her father," Hermione says lovingly.
"Wait, does this mean that the sex ban is lifted?" In response, Hermione walks over to the fridge and pulls out two bowls of chocolate pudding. "Are those for dessert?"
Ron gazes at her hopefully, causing Hermione to give him a mischievous grin.
"Well, one of them is."