#mr granger

“So, tell us more about what’s happened in your world.” Jean sets her fork down and rests her elbows on the table while leaning in. “We have a lot to catch up on.”

Hermione covers Ron’s hand with her own. The ginger-haired boy flinches from the contact and clears his throat before saying, “You have a lovely home here in Australia.”

Hugh and Jean exchange puzzled glances. He narrows his eyes at the teens who refuse to meet his gaze as a long, pregnant pause fills the room.

What is happening? He’s still wrapping his mind around his memory loss; he doesn’t need to fret over secrets that could tarnish the foundation they’re trying to rebuild.

“Oh, you don’t want to know more about our lives.” Jean laughs it off, leaning into Hugh. “It can’t be nearly as interesting as what you’ve been up to.”

Determined to stay rooted in the truth, Hugh clears his throat. “Ron, we appreciate you looking out for Hermione in our absence. For keeping her safe.”

“It’s, er, well—” A noise leaves Ron’s throat that he attempts to mask as a cough. “We’re glad we were able to sort out your memories. It's nice to finally meet you.”

He continues to steer the conversation into safer territory. What is he hiding?

"Ron is a tactical thinker, I’m always impressed by his ability to combat highly-stressful situations."

The words his daughter once spoke echo through Hugh’s mind. He should challenge Ron to a chess match given how Hermione once raved over his logistical abilities—it makes Hugh wonder what Ron’s strategy is for getting through this evening. Hugh fights the urge to narrow his eyes, weighing his options for continued discord.

“We’ve always wanted to go on holiday here. Haven’t we, Jean?”

A wistful smile appears on Hermione’s face as her eyes glisten. Ron’s hand tightens over his girlfriend’s and they share a meaningful look that eases the tension in Hermione’s shoulders. Hugh’s amazed at how quickly Ron’s able to calm her worries. He imagines Ron knows his daughter better than he does at this point in her life, and the thought is both comforting and unsettling.

Jean once showed Hugh the tear stains on the parchment Hermione had sent home, indicating that their daughter had been crying when she wrote the letter. Ironically those were the messages she spoke of Ron the most, and that’s when Hugh knew his daughter was falling in love for the first time.

But as his gaze travels over the young couple shifting in their chairs, his vision focuses on a thin red cut on the front of Hermione’s neck. Although Hugh knows that the pair have likely dealt with danger, it’s dawning on him how perilous their situation might have been.

When Hugh’s eyes return to Ron, the younger man averts his gaze.

Hermione dives into a recap of her former years at Hogwarts, and Hugh knows she’s avoiding discussion of her whereabouts over the last twelve months. As he listens to his daughter talk, he realizes he’s getting a glossy version of how she met Ron; what their history is with each other, how they transitioned from friends to friendlier…

“And where will you be staying until you figure out your plans for the future?”

A rosy tint colors Hermione’s cheeks as she addresses her mum. “We haven’t discussed living arrangements yet. I’ve been helping Mrs. Weasley take care of the Burrow.”

One glance at Ron’s face—now an even deeper shade of red than Hermione's—and Hugh fears the young pair may not be thinking about making a deeper commitment to each other because they already have. He wonders exactly how far their relationship has progressed, an uncomfortable thought for any father to have.

Ron sits in companionable silence as Hermione takes the lead in the conversation, but Hugh’s gaze remains trained on him. He looks calm and assured on the outside, but Hugh remembers how he was at a young age, and he knows the boy must be dying inside.

“Water, Ron?”

“What?” The boy jolts in his seat, his knee banging against the underside of the table with a solid thwack.

Ron’s squirming forces Hugh to hold back a smile. “Would you like another glass of water? You look parched.”

“Oh, s-sure. That’d be nice.”

“Brilliant. Follow me.”

Hugh stands from his seat and exits the dining room without waiting to see if Ron follows him. The door opens and closes behind him only a few seconds later, signaling Ron’s arrival into the study.

It’s not going to take the Weasley boy long to realize they’re not in a place where water is kept, so Hugh quickly walks over to his antique standing globe in the corner of the room near a shelf of books. He opens the lid, revealing a mini liquor bar and a stash of glassware hidden beneath a map of the world.

“Whoa.”

“Between you and me, I need more than water for events like these.” Hugh twists the cap on a half-full bottle of whiskey, sets out two crystallized tumblers, and pours a small amount of the caramel-colored liquid into each glass.

“Sir?”

Ron’s voice is sharp and raspy. Hugh hands Ron a glass that he clinks with his own.

“Cheers!”

Hugh takes a small sip, allowing the smoked taste to roll down his throat. He settles into a squashy armchair, gesturing for Ron to sit in the other. He waits to make sure he’s satisfied with his drink before broaching the subject he wants to discuss.

“So… you and Hermione.”

Ron starts rambling before Hugh can get another word in. “She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever known—apart from my mum, of course. I’m not saying my mum isn’t brilliant, because she is—”

“It’s okay. Relax.”

It’s obvious that Ron is terrified, and Hugh wants the integrity of the conversation to remain intact. He doesn’t want to be misrepresented as the intimidating father; he only wants to know why Ron is seeking his trust and forgiveness for something that he hasn't explained yet.

“No need to validate your relationship with my daughter. She’s an independent and brilliant young woman. If she thinks you’re up to her standards, then so do I.”

Ron’s mouth hangs open, poised to comment, yet no sound comes out. The quick dip of his head indicates that he accepts the approval.

“Regardless,” Hugh carries on, hoping to alleviate the beads of sweat glistening under the boy’s ginger fringe on his forehead. “I’m not all that surprised you two ended up together, given my own superpower.”

He holds up his glass with a teasing smirk, observing the way Ron’s cobalt eyes go round. “I’m psychic by the way. I saw this coming; I just didn’t say anything.”

“You did?”

“Okay, so maybe I’m not psychic, but I didn’t have to meet you to know how my daughter feels about you. Hermione is intelligent beyond her years. Her Mum and I knew she’d figure it out.”

Ron chuckles, tapping his fingers on the outer rim of the glass. “It seems like everyone else knew before we did, honestly.”

Hugh tilts his head, studying Ron’s demeanor with more concentration. He’s already impressed by the boy’s ability to remain neutral and present in the conversation. But Hugh didn’t miss the scar on his daughter’s neck. He doesn’t want to question Ron’s character or motives, but he’ll have to if he can’t get Ron to start talking.

Speculation can only lead to detrimental consequences.

“So, how are you coping with what’s left of the magical world?”

Their eyes meet for the briefest of moments before Ron breaks the contact. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You came to our house appropriately dressed. You have excellent table manners. You’re doing all the right things, and yet, I don’t feel like I’m getting a chance to see the real you. I think you might be withholding significant information, I just don’t know what it is yet.”

As Ron remains close-mouthed and unforthcoming, Hugh presses on.

“What happened, Ron?”

“I don’t think that’s my story to tell, Mr. Granger.”

“I don’t mean what happened to Hermione. I’ve always been quite bemused by my daughter and her abilities, and she’s a tough biscuit to crack, but I’m talking about you. How did the war change you?”

Ron drags his gaze from the floor but remains quiet as he weighs his options for responding.

“You’re different. You’re not the same boy Hermione used to spend her summers with. This may be our first official meeting, but she certainly told us a lot about you.”

He goggles at Hugh as if he’s sprouted an extra head. “I’m the same Ron Weasley, sir.”

“Yeah. But you’re not the same, are you?”

“If you’re insinuating that I’m an imposter, I can assure you it doesn’t happen in the magical world that often.”

“That often?”

Vertical wrinkles appear between Ron’s eyebrows and he slumps lower in his chair. “Forget I said anything.”

“Why are you shying away from the truth? Has Hermione instructed you to keep quiet?” Hugh scoffs. “She only altered our memories, of course, she would—”

“She wanted to protect you!”

Ron’s eyes blaze with a fire that matches the intensity of his striking red hair. It’s the second glimpse that Hugh receives into what his daughter’s boyfriend might be thinking. Slowly but surely Ron’s emotions unravel, requiring more transparency than ever.

“I know that now. But you can’t expect me to not ask questions, especially when Hermione revealed she did not attend her final year at Hogwarts and instead traveled the country with her two best friends—one being her boyfriend.”

Ron opens his mouth to debate, but Hugh holds up his hand.

“For the mission. I know that too.”

A stony silence fills the air. The caliber of the conversation has changed, but Hugh remains purposeful in his actions, seeking even more clarity.

“But there’s something you don’t want me to know—something you believe will make me think less of you.”

“Bloody fu—” Ron clamps his mouth shut as the tips of his ears burn red. “That’s, er, simply not true. Respectfully, sir.”

The corner of Hugh’s mouth twitches. He remembers from Hermione’s stories how Ron possesses a foul mouth at times, and he almost wishes he hadn’t held back. At least he’d be showcasing his real self.

“What is the truth?”

Ron tips his head back, downs the contents of his drink as if garnering all of his liquid courage, and sets the empty glass on the end table. He leans forward with his forearms resting against his knees, holding Hugh’s gaze through steely eyes.

“I just want you to see me as a person who cares a lot about your daughter.”

The statement doesn’t come as a surprise, but Hugh challenges Ron’s intention with a single eyebrow raise. “Are you saying that’s not who you are?”

“No—no, absolutely not—I mean, I’m not saying that I don’t—” Ron takes several steadying breaths while threading his fingers through his hair. “I haven’t always made positive choices.”

Well, that’s a lofty opinion of himself.

“Who has?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Who has, Ron? We all make mistakes. I’ve made my fair share with Hermione.”

Ron grimaces as he picks at the imperfections on his jumper again. “There was a time during the war… I let her down. And I vowed I would never do it again—”

“Then I trust you won’t.”

Ignoring Hugh’s side remark, Ron continues to unload his failures. “I thought I ruined years of friendship in just a matter of minutes. I got angry. I wasn’t in my right mind and I left the mission we set out to accomplish. I left her.”

Loyalty. So that’s what it comes down to.

He sees the boy in all of his anguish, striving to hold himself accountable. Hugh almost feels guilty for coercing Ron into showing his emotions, as he’s still bearing the brunt of his mistakes. It’s a difficult thing to carry tremendous guilt, and who knows how long he’s suffered with it.

“I wasn't careful enough to realize the influence a magical object had on me, and—I'm sorry, Mr. Granger. I'm not sure how much detail I should give you without Hermione here."

"It's alright."

The ticking clock nearby fills the empty silence that follows, and Hugh levels his daughter’s boyfriend with a look of determination.

“You realized what you did was hurtful and gave her a genuine apology?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Then that’s all I need to hear. You’re rebuilding your trust with Hermione. That's more important than anything I think.”

Ron’s responsible efforts demonstrate the strength of his character. Hugh wants to tell Ron he doesn’t expect him to be perfect nor does he think he is. He knows this boy has likely broken his daughter’s heart once or twice, yet he can tell from a single interaction with him that Ron’s the one who cares the most about her, apart from himself and Jean.

“We can’t always prevent conflict from happening. I couldn’t prevent Hermione from stealing my memories. Try not to query on things you have no control over.”

“But I do have control over how you think of me. I want you to see me as someone worthy of your daughter. I don't want you to think I’m going to leave her just because of things I’ve done in the past.”

“That’s what you believe?” Hugh’s gut tightens as he realizes Ron is full of scars that can’t be seen, including some that are self-inflicted. “You're an honorable man, Ron. You may not have always made the right decisions at the right time, but you are good and decent. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t care enough to sit here and tell me this right now.”

It dawns on Hugh that Ron is no longer the boy who was friends with his daughter. Now he’s the man who’s in love with his daughter and would do anything to protect her.

Not wanting the two women in the dining room to wonder for too long where they’ve been, Hugh stands and gestures for Ron to do the same. He leans forward and gives the young man a hearty clap on his back.