A/N Succinct version: Hated Jo's ending, my Hermione's middle name is Jane, dislike several Weasleys, and Harry and Hermione are fated in my opinion. Oh, and I don't own Harry Potter.
A/N: I've got mixed feelings about this chapter. Strangely enough, Good News is very popular (according to FF dot Net), but I look back on earlier chapters and wonder what I was drinking when I wrote some of that. I'd like to think my writing has improved somewhat since then. Happy July 4th to all of my fellow Americans.
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-Summer Before Second Year-
-Joanne the Fantabulous: Enter the Mystical World of the Seer- was the sign above the tent situated among the many others of the Renaissance Fair that came yearly to Devon.
Ron sat on a stool sucking on a Muggle sweet and wondered why Jo never seemed to have any customers other than him. It helped that she enjoyed his company and always had a dish of candy out for whenever he dropped by to visit during the summer. On the plus side, she gave him sweets and sometimes told his future for free, but on the down side, and he rolled his eyes as he couldn't stand it anymore and just had to comment, "Do you have write so loud? Hermione is always taking notes and I've had more than enough scritch-scratch to last me a lifetime," he theatrically moaned.
"For you, Ron, I'll write more quietly. Now continue, please. You said you ran to fetch Hermione and even had to drag your good for nothing friend along with you against his will and in the process you jumped on the back of a mountain troll and saved this Hermione girl's life. Bravest thing I've ever heard," she declared. "Worth a chapter or two at the very least," she commented under her breath as she diligently copied it all down.
More slightly-less-loud scritch-scratch followed. Ron moved the piece of candy over to the other side of his mouth and redoubled his efforts so he could have another piece of candy. Jo was very strict about finishing one piece before he could have another.
"So, as I understand it, the only reason the three of you were in any danger at all was simply because that other boy you mentioned, had bollixed things up by insulting her. *Tsk* *Tsk* "I know he's one of your very first friends and all that, but I predict that he will be nothing but trouble. Don't look so skeptical, I do make predictions for a living, after all!" She declared with her nose held high.
Ron began cleaning his ear out with a piece of straw.
"Now then, I think I've got a good understanding of the trip to the Forbidden Forest but why do you have such difficulty in explaining what happened after you later took charge of the Chess Set Challenge when neither of your other friends had any idea how to play?
-Summer before Third Year before Egypt Trip-
"Hmm… she hugged you when the two of you left the Hospital wing and only shook his hand…" She smirked to herself.
Ron's face was red, as his cheeks tried mightily to match his hair. "It might not mean anything… I mean, I-mean-Henry wasn't the cleanest of students, m-maybe he, umm, didn't take baths often enough or something like that?"
But Jo wasn't listening to the embarrassed mutterings of the young Ginger, she was much too enraptured by her fond recollections. "Ah, young love, though a bit hard to believe as you tell it. Might have to swap who did what to increase the dramatic tension. Also, revealing it was a Basilisk from the beginning would ruin the suspense. Perhaps refer to it as a monster until the very last possible moment?" she pondered. "Going to visit your little girl friend in the hospital wing even though she was petrified just to talk with her and keep her from being lonely…" she ruffled his red hair. "You so remind me of my ex-husband - so gallant and brave."
"However, regarding your friend Henry, he just keeps antagonizing your female friend. I don't know why you allow him to hang around the two of you. I mean, you're obviously so compatible. Great Aunt Sibyl would probably have declared you two soul mates - you're so very close. Though, Great Aunt Sibyl was always a bit overly sentimental; especially after a few bottles of sherry."
-Summer before Fourth Year-
"Slow down Ronald. I completely missed your explanation of who cast the Patronus Charm and how you managed to help Henry's godfather escape while you were in infirmary…"
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"Really? So they just appeared in front of you and started to laugh? Surely they must have explained everything after the fact. Orders from Dumbledore, you say? Fascinating, truly fascinating. What I wouldn't have given to be a fly on that wall…" then she suddenly stopped writing. A slow smile started to expand on her face (A/N: Think of the Grinch from the TV special). She brought the nib up and rested it on her tongue. "Yes, a fly… or perhaps a beetle…" she murmured.
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"Chin up, Ronald. From everything you've told me over the years, I'm positive she has feelings for you. All you have to do is bide your time and she'll let you know how she feels."
Incoherent mumbling from Ron.
"Ronald, I'm a woman and an adult of much greater experience than you, of course I'm right."
"Don't worry about your other friend. He seems to be completely at odds with her. I mean honestly, how could he be so insensitive to a girl as to drive her crying to the women's lavatory. Honestly, I distinctly recall you telling me you had to drag your friend with you when you rescued her from that Troll. How very brave of you to jump on its back and save her from being injured. How on earth could she fall in love with anyone but you? You, my dear boy are a young hero and the Hero should always get the girl."
-Summer before 5th year-
"Why Ronald, I'm shocked you didn't ask Hermione out. In fact, I'm even more shocked she didn't ask you first. Such potential, but still a bit young I suppose. Her feelings for you are obvious in the way she constantly worries for your well-being."
-Present time - Meet the Parents-
Ron Weasley was having a bad day. In fact, calling today a bad day would be an understatement; today was the worst day he could remember. He conveniently forgot several incidents involving acromantulas, escaped convicts, quidditch routs, and death eater encounters. Ron Weasley is funny that way.
Thus far, he'd been unable to find Hermione, been humiliated and beaten up by Neville (of all people), still unable to find Hermione, been up and down the length and breadth of Britain and run into dead end after dead end trying to find where Ginny had moved to, and yet again was unable to find Hermione, found Ginny's new flat but she wasn't home and some wet behind the ears Auror trainee had the gall to tell him he couldn't wait for her to return and had to move along. The nerve of some people, didn't they know who he was, what he had done? He'd fought against He Who Must Not Be Named for Merlin's sake. Well, not directly, but he'd been instrumental in his defeat. Even Harry had admitted that much.
Now, to add further insult to injury, he had to resort to checking with Hermione's Muggle relatives to try and locate Hermione. Why oh why was nothing ever easy? I just want to marry their daughter so I can have a dozen or so sprogs, I don't want to spend time with Muggles. Hermione better appreciate that I'm actually going to see her parents this one time…. And she better not expect us to visit them. He smiled at the thought of them living in the Burrow; Hermione rubbing his feet and his Mum cooking his favorite cottage pie. 'Course she won't. It isn't like I want to marry her parents, after all…
Deciding it might scare the poor hapless Muggles if he did something as fancy and awe-inspiring as apparating into their home, he decided to apparate into their back garden. Oddly enough, he still remembered how Harry had side-alonged him there one afternoon a while back. He'd never been there before and had no idea how he would have found the place if Harry hadn't been there. He was reasonably certain Hermione had mentioned something about Crawley several years ago, but it didn't seem important at the time, they were, lest we forget, only Muggles.
With a loud *POP* he found himself facing their back garden door. He raised his hand to knock, figuring that since they would soon be related (if only by marriage, thankfully) he should at least try and act polite. But before Ron could knock, the door swung open and an older gentleman whose hair looked vaguely the same shade as Hermione's opened the door in a rush.
"What's the matter, son? Forget your keys-oh… sorry. You're not Harry at all, are you?" said the man. He had clearly mistaken Ron for someone else. "No, of course not." He gave Ron an appraising glance up and down; Ron found it strange and in the back of his mind, a place he seldom ventured (he doesn't visit the front very often either), he felt he was being measured against something… and found wanting. It was a familiar experience… or at least it would have been if he had been consciously aware of it. As it stood, he had a vague feeling of unease as Daniel Granger looked at the would-be son-in-law and found he wasn't terribly impressed. He ended his appraisal on the red hair. "You're that Weasley boy, aren't you? Donald or something like that, wasn't it?"
Trying to smile politely and mentally reminding himself that after today he would never have to talk to or touch another Muggle again, he held out his hand and in a shaky voice said, "Umm... Ronald-that is to say, Ron Weasley."
Shaking Ron's hand firmly, he could just barely keep the frown off of his face as he silently tsked at how weak the boy's handshake was. "Ronald. That's right. Harry brought you round once. I remember now. You blew up the telly as I recall."
Ron winced. He'd forgotten about that. They had been watching some kind of monster show and he'd accidentally reducto'd their tellybision.
Leading him into the house by the shoulder, his lip twitched as he recalled that odd afternoon several years ago. "No worries there, Ron. Harry and Hermione put things right again after you left."
He rolled his eyes. "That's great Doctor Granger." He really didn't care. It was years ago and in Ron's mind that meant it might as well have never happened at all
He smiled reassuringly, attempting to make the young man welcome. "Please, call me Dan. "
Ron nodded and said it was okay to call him Ron.
"So, what brings you to Crawley today, Ron?"
"I'm looking for Hermione. I have the most important of news for her." He said with a smile.
"Good news, I hope?"
He practically beamed as he answered, "The best."
A crazy suspicion crossed Dan's mind at how Ron said those two words. "Oh?"
"Yeah, I'd tell you, but these kind of things are best told to the bride first… oops. Just forget I said that. Just know that once she hears what I have to tell her, then she can finally settle down." Ron made an effort to produce a slow and exaggerated wink as if between close friends.
"Is that so?" It turned out that the crazy suspicion he'd had wasn't so crazy after all. Apparently Ron didn't know that situations had progressed while he'd been away. His lip twitching slightly, he called out to his wife. "Emma! I have a young man here in search of our daughter."
Silence immediately followed and Dan idly wondered whether she had heard. Finally she called out from one of the upstairs bedrooms
"Ha ha, Harry - very funny. What in heaven's name are you still doing here? I know you can apparate or whatever you call it, but Hermione already called to ask us to water your plants and look after Crooks and Hedwig while you two are away. If you don't get a move on, then she'll leave without you." She laughed aloud. "Though what she'd be doing there without you, I have no ide…" Emma Granger stopped short as she entered into the kitchen and saw their guest wasn't who she had been expecting.
Ron tried to smile. He had the distinct impression that she wasn't expecting to see him here. "Hello Mrs. Dr. Granger."
Emma's mouth opened then immediately closed again. "Hello there. *Ahem* Can I see my husband alone for a moment?" She looked pointedly at her husband.
Smiling as if he didn't have a brain in his head (imagine that) he nodded and then excused himself into their living room. As he was leaving, he heard the barest snatches of her annoyed whisper. It sounded like, "Fool… me… not… son… law… not… red…'oron…Daniel." It made no sense to Ron, so he just ignored it and busied himself with looking over the various Muggle knickknacks Hermione's mom collected.
Growing bored with the Muggle things, he finally settled on some photos of Hermione. They didn't move, so they must have been modified to appear non-magical. Pity, he thought. There were some cute shots of Hermione growing up, often with a book in her hands and her humongous teeth. Thank Merlin those got shrunk when she was still in Hogwarts - looked like a ruddy beaver…
Moving on, His attention was caught by several photos that were more recent. There was one of the three of them standing in front of the Hogwarts express from First year, if he remembered correctly. Another from what must have been second year. It showed Hermione caught in mid-embrace as she hugged Harry. They both looked really happy. Ron felt his stomach churn oddly and he was struck with the sudden desire to find himself in the same picture. He knew he had to be there. After all, they were together so often they'd garnered the nickname The Golden Trio. Plus, he vaguely remembered that day. Searching the photo, he finally found himself half cutoff with an uncertain expression on his face. Hmm… moving on…
This was a photo he'd never seen before. It was Harry and Hermione with their arms around each other, with Sirius Black, and Mr. and Mrs. Granger together in the background. Judging from their appearance, It look like sometime around Third or Fourth year. Since Sirius Black was there, it must have been after he escaped, his rarely used logic center volunteered. He stared at the photo, wishing the figures could move so he could get a better look at the background; at least one of the houses in picture looked oddly familiar, but he couldn't place it. Eventually he gave up trying to place the location and moved on.
Scanning through the pictures, he spotted some more contemporary shots of Hermione. Two she really looked hot in. One had her in a beautiful red gown with Harry in what appeared to be the Muggle version of dress robes-black with green trim. Another picture of a much older Hermione in white and silver with Harry in a pure black suit that looked even fancier than the rest. He'd never seen Harry or Hermione look as happy as they had in that one picture. His eyes narrowed and he felt a burning spike of anger for no reason that he could place… It certainly wasn't unusual for him to be angry at the drop of a hat, but even Ron found it weird to get mad because two people looked ridiculously happy in a photo.
Squelching the anger down and placating his temper that it wouldn't do to blow up at the future-in-laws, he idly noticed there didn't seem to be any pictures of Fourth year; though, it was probably just as well since that was the year of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He, personally, had quite a few bad memories from that year and didn't need a reminder.
Some noise from the kitchen drew his attention from the photos and he turned around to see what was going on, but his eyes fell upon two framed badges on the wall. Upon each badge were the Hogwarts seal and the word Prefect. A wave of anger swept through him and his vision started to go black due to the shear anger and resentment those two badges drudged up.
At that very same moment, Emma stepped into the living room with a tea tray set for three. "Would you like some tea, Ron?"
His vision cleared but his visage still stormy, he nodded his head and sat down roughly upon the sofa. "Yes, extra cream and 3 lumps of sugar. Then I would very much appreciate it if you would tell me where Hermione is."
-Present Time - Where Hermione Is - Somewhere in California-
"H-He-Hermione…" Harry stammered. "What on earth are you wearing?!"
"Oh these?" she pointed to her denim short shorts.
Rapid nodding from Harry followed.
"I believe they're called daisy dukes. They're supposed to be very popular around here right now. I figured it wouldn't hurt for us to blend in."
"B-but, your top?"
"This, Harry?" queried Hermione as she pointed with both hands toward her chest covering. "Surely you remember the top from my first bikini. You helped me pick it out years ago. Apparently, bikini tops and daisy duke bottoms are the trend in California. Besides, I never did find the matching bottoms for this top after you ran off with them. "
"But you told me to!" he said plaintively.
She walked up to him and stroked a delicate finger up his neck to rest under his chin.
"So I did, Mr. Potter." She cocked her hip and smirked at him. "Was there something wrong with my top aside from the fact that I've grown a bit since I first bought it?"
Harry gulped noisily and shook his head "no". His eyes were fixed on Hermione.
"I do believe you're dripping, Harry."
His eyes shot all the way open and he looked down at his swimming shorts. They were fine, feeling a bit snug, but otherwise fine. He looked at Hermione with a puzzled look on his face. She motioned with her eyes to his hands.
His ice lollies! They'd melted in his hands and he hadn't even noticed. Sweet, sticky fruit juice dripped down his fingers and pooled in his palms. The sticks stood proud - naked of all their icy goodness.
Harry just couldn't understand it. He knew he'd charmed the lolly sticks to keep the ice lollies cold for quite a while so they would have time to enjoy them. They shouldn't have melted so soon.
Hermione took hold of his red, juice covered hand and started sucking on his fingers.
He felt a massive blush start to burn in his cheeks and his hands began to get very warm. "YOU! It was your fault. You melted my ice lollies!"
She slowly and deliberately dragged her tongue across his juice covered palm, forcing Harry to suck in a deep breath.
"Whoops…" she said in a tone that was in no way repentant.
At that, Harry smiled. He reached out his other hand to clasp her lightly on the shoulder. The red juice on his other hand ran in rivulets down her soft, sun kissed skin to slowly stain her small, white bikini top. "Turnabout's fair play, wouldn't you say?"
Even melted, they both enjoyed their ice lollies.
-On the Train to Hogwarts at the Start of Fifth Year-
Ron Weasley felt as if he had been punched in the gut. "But-b-but I was supposed to be prefect..." he stuttered. In a quiet voice, his shock and confusion quickly turned to anger and jealousy. His brows furrowed and in an accusative whisper he said, "I thought they'd just forgotten my badge - Dumbledore promised." His eyes hardened. "We'll just see about this!" and he turned on his heel and slammed the compartment door closed as he strode into the corridor.
Hermione was buffing her prefect's badge to a high gloss and didn't pay the rude redhead any attention. She had suspected since first year that most of what came out of his mouth was rubbish anyway and second year had merely confirmed it. Thus, she had spent most of third year and a good portion of fourth year learning to ignore him. Being Hermione, when she set her mind to accomplish something, it got done and it got done well - the first time. She glanced at Harry and suppressed a smile. His badge hadn't been shined recently and she had to restrain herself from reaching over and giving it a good rub with her polishing cloth. She gave a contented sigh, they were both prefects and all was right with the world.
Harry had pretended to nap against the side wall of their train compartment. Hermione's weight was comforting as she leaned up against him and her soft warmth brought a light smile to lips. He'd been feigning sleep to prevent any arguments with Ron, and thus far it looked as if their plan had worked.
McGonagall had been very clear regarding the prefect assignments. Despite the forgone conclusion of Ron making prefect in Dumbledore's notes, she did not share the former headmaster's incredibly charitable sentiments towards the young Mr. Weasley. His grades had always been on the low end of average, but ever since Miss Granger ceased her efforts to assist him, his schoolwork had dropped to nearly troll levels. Consequently, she whole-heartedly agreed with Dumbledore's desire to appoint Hermione, but Ron was, in her studied opinion, at the very bottom of the list of Gryffindors to make prefect - trailing just beneath Trevor.
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Ginny sat cater-corner to Harry and Hermione on the opposite side. She'd been planning to sit next to Harry, but judging from Harry's sleeping form, Hermione had evidently rushed them both to the train at around the crack of dawn, well before the Weasley contingent had even made it out the of the Burrow's front door.
She sighed, thinking of all the times she had ridden on the Hogwarts Express and not gotten to sit next to Harry. It didn't help that for as long as she could remember, her family had always just barely kept from missing the train. Well, except the year before Ginny had started at Hogwarts. That year they'd been earlier to the station than just about anyone else for the first and only time in Ginny's recollection. She blinked. 'Strange...' she thought. 'I wonder why...?'
Her thoughts were interrupted by Neville Longbottom sitting down almost uncomfortably close to her. She scooted further away and couldn't help but notice his crestfallen expression. Now she was sure that he fancied her.
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Upon boarding the train and after a brief search, she'd found the two of them. Harry had been resting and Hermione was cozied right up next to him. When Ginny had not so subtly hinted that she wanted to sit next to Harry, Hermione had claimed best friend privileges and unpinned her prefects badge and began to polish it. Stupid bint, flashing her badge around for all to see.
Wait - Prefect's badge? Perfect! Ron had been going on and on about how this year he was going to be the Gryffindor prefect and give those slimy Slytherins detentions whenever he had the chance. If Hermione was the female 5th year prefect for Gryffindor and Ron was the male 5th year prefect, then eventually she and Ron would have to leave for the prefect meeting and Harry would be left unprotected and Ginny could make her move. Of course, everything hinged on Ron actually BEING a prefect and thus far she had been skeptical, especially when their Hogwarts letters had arrived and his letter had been curiously badge-less.
Ron had assured everyone who would listen that he was sure it was all some sort of mistake and that surely a follow-up letter would arrive soon with his missing badge, but when none arrived he determinedly maintained that it would be waiting for him on the train. In fact, he had immediately gone off in search of the Head Boy to find out whether he had Ron's badge or if Ron needed to meet with the Headmistress to get a new one from her.
The minutes ticked by and Ginny grew more and more anxious. Harry and Hermione were already so close; she began to worry that if things continued this way that eventually the two might decide to give formal dating another go and she was certain it wouldn't be long before an engagement followed. Despite the frequent assurances that they were only best friends, Ginny has seen the unguarded looks, the lingering touches, and the intimate whispers. She had time, of that she was sure, but as to how much time, well that was another matter entirely.
Ron stomped into the compartment, followed closely by Neville. Ginny squirmed in her seat slightly as she looked Neville over. He'd matured quite a bit and gotten handsomer, though Harry was still MUCH better looking. He had danced with her several times during the Yule ball last term and she suspected he might fancy her.
'Oh why couldn't Harry just declare his love for her in front of a huge group of people and settle everything? Why did she have to work so hard at what her Mum had assured her was a foregone conclusion?' she lamented.
Ron sat down in a huff on the bench midway between Hermione and Luna. His arms were crossed and a light scowl was darkening his features. That he sat close to no one meant he was in an even fouler mood than normal. Ginny actually hesitated to inquire what he found out about his badge... but in the end, she had to know.
"So how'd it go with the Head Boy? Since you're not wearing a badge, I'm guessing he didn't have it. McGonagall maybe?" inquired Ginny in as gentle a tone as possible.
In a sulky tone, the youngest male Weasley replied. "I'm - not - a - prefect." Then he was quiet for several seconds and Ginny decided to just drop it. Unfortunately, Ron wasn't going to make it that easy.
He opened his mouth as if to continue but then noticed Hermione was polishing her badge. His mouth closed then opened again, a process that repeated several times and closely resembled that of a fish. It was then that Harry picked that exact moment to seemingly wake from the light doze he had been enjoying.
Harry shifted and stretched slightly, his eyes still closed, and sensing Hermione next to him, without thinking, he stretched out an arm around her waist and pulled her close. In the process of stretching and snuggling up to Hermione, much to Ron's consternation, Harry's robes shifted and the slightly less shiny (because Harry didn't polish his as often as Hermione) prefect's badge pinned to his robes became visible. It glinted tauntingly in the uncertain sunlight as clouds moved across the sky.
Ron inhaled sharply as he glared daggers at his 'best friend' who had the badge and the girl that he wanted. His face began to redden.
Harry Potter was content. For once thing were going well. In an uncharitable moment, he briefly considered that having Dumbledore NOT being Headmaster was a wonderful thing, and then his conscience (which was sounding curiously like Hermione) admonished him for thinking such thoughts. Even if, his conscience conceded, it was true.
Turning away from the window and leaning his head on Hermione's shoulder, he allowed himself to be lulled back to sleep by the rolling of the train and by the sound of her heart beat. After all, it wasn't the first time he'd fallen asleep with Hermione in his arms... and that's how he stayed for quite a while longer until Hermione reluctantly woke him up for the prefects meeting.
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