FIC: An Interest in Dentistry [Ron/Hermione - G]
Title: An Interest in Dentistry
Author/Artist: alisanne
Pairing(s): Ron/Hermione, Mr and Mrs Granger, Arthur Weasley.
Prompt: Prompt #66: Ron’s first Christmas with Hermione’s parents (let’s just assume that their memories were restored and they remember her). Bonus: Arthur Weasley asking/suggesting that Ron swipe something Muggle from the house for his Muggle collection/shed.
Word Count: 1750
Rating: G
Contains (Highlight to view): *No warnings except a few larcenous thoughts.*
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Thank you to oakstone730 for the inspiring prompt, to the Mini_Fest mods for throwing this fun fest once more, and to my beta readers for their assistance.
Summary: Christmas can bring out hidden traits.
***
An Interest in Dentistry
***
Ron’s thrilled when Hermione tell him the news, of course. Who wouldn’t be pleased that their girlfriend’s parents’ memories have been restored and that they finally remember her? “I knew you could do it, love,” he whispers into her hair as he hugs her.
But of course, there are complications.
“You’re not going to be here for Christmas?” asks Molly when they break the news to Ron’s family that they’ll be spending Christmas Eve at the new Granger residence now that they’ve moved back to England.
Ron nods. “We will, Mum,” he assures her. “We’re just going to be there for dinner the night before.”
Molly sighs. “All right. But I just wanted the family all together this year--” She trails off, but Ron knows what she means.
“Don’t worry, Mum. Everything will be fine.” He smiles. “And maybe next year they’ll come here for dinner.”
Molly perks up at that. “Oh, that would be lovely,” she says. She frowns. “Do you think they’d like it here?” she asks, looking around.
“I’m sure they’d love it,” says Ron. “Who wouldn’t?” With a smile, Molly pats his shoulder, moving away, but as he thinks about it later, he starts to worry. What if they hate him? What if they blame him for having stolen away their daughter and they never want to meld families?
The thoughts distract him over supper, so when his dad comes to him and drags him out to his shed to chat, Ron’s too busy worrying to ponder why.
“This is an unprecedented opportunity, son,” says Arthur as he putters about. And as he babbles, Ron just nods, used to his dad’s ramblings.
He worries about what to say to the Grangers, what to do at their home, hell, even what to wear for Christmas Eve dinner with them, and, distracted, barely pays attention to what his dad’s saying. He’s learned over the years that when his dad’s like this, it’s best just to nod and smile. “Right, mm hm--”
“...so glad you’re agreeable to this, son,” says Arthur, the tone of excitement in his voice breaking through Ron’s mental musings. “I can even give you a list of the things I’d like.”
Ron frowns. “Er...list?”
“Well, yes.” Arthur’s bent over some contraption. “I mean, you don’t want to get me something I already have, do you? What would be the point of that?”
“Right.” Ron clears his throat. “So, just to be clear, what am I doing?”
“Getting me Muggle items from the Grangers.” Arthur beams at him. “Nothing too complicated, of course. Hermione says they tend to people’s teeth, so perhaps you could find out what that’s all about and get one of those teethbrush things? Oh, and maybe even some of the stuff they put on teeth, what’s that called? Teeth cleaner?”
“Toothpaste,” says Ron, recalling things Hermione has said.
“Ah, right.” Arthur frowns. “Why do they call it that, anyway? Does it help Muggle teeth stay stuck to their gums or something?”
“I...” Ron shakes his head. “I’ve no idea.”
Arthur smiles. “Slip that question in, too, then,” he says. “May as well get it from the experts.”
“Right.” Ron bites his lip and thinks about how to say what he wants to say. “Although...do you think I ought to be pilfering stuff from them the first time I meet them?”
“Oh, I’m sure they won’t miss a few small items,” Arthur says, waving his hand. “Maybe Hermione can help you.”
Ron is not going to involve Hermione in this scheme, he knows that much. “I’ll handle it, Dad,” he says, hoping he’s right.
“Brilliant.” Arthur nods. “I knew you would.” He frowns at the contraption in his hands. “Now I wonder what this lever does?”
Knowing better than to mention anything about his dad’s request to anyone, Ron keeps it to himself, but as Christmas draws closer, he starts to get nervous. What if I get caught? he thinks. What if they have some sort of Muggle alarm system to alert them when things are stolen?
It’s Harry who gives him the answer, oddly enough. “So you’re having Christmas Eve with your future in-laws, eh?” He shakes his head. “Lucky. It could be a lot worse.”
Ron thinks about Harry, about the fact that Malfoy’s parents are both in Azkaban and that Malfoy is unlikely to want to celebrate anything. “What are you two doing, then?” he asks.
“Dinner with Andromeda and Teddy.” Harry smiles faintly. “And it’s my job to keep Draco from the brandy. When he gets too drunk he doesn’t notice anything. The house could fall down around him and he wouldn’t care.” He shrugs. “I’m fine with it, but Andromeda doesn’t want Teddy to start emulating his drunk cousin. He already adores Draco and wants to do everything he does.”
Drunk. Long after the conversation’s over, Ron thinks about it. If he gets the Grangers drunk, they won’t notice anything he does. And even if they do, maybe they won’t care. He could make off with a major home appliance and they’d just smile. He remembers Madam Pomfrey talking about how Muggles were very susceptible to wizarding liquor and he smiles. This may not be that difficult after all.
Hermione is a bit suspicious when Ron tucks a bottle of extra potent elf wine into his robes, but when he explains it’s a special gift for a special night, she smiles.
The Grangers live in a nice house in Chiswick. As Ron and Hermione walk hand-in-hand up the walkway, he admires the holly berry bushes lining the walk. “Mum would love this,” he says.
“We could plant her some holly,” says Hermione as she reaches for the doorknob.
The door opens before she touches it and a tall, thin man with bushy brown hair is standing there. “Hermione,” he says, enveloping her in a hug.
Ron hangs back, watching.
“Dad.” Hermione is beaming. “This is Ron.”
Mr Granger looks Ron over. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Ron. Hermione’s told us all about you.” His handshake is firm, his expression open and friendly. Ron relaxes. “Do come in.”
“Where’s Mum?” asks Hermione as they step inside and the door is closed.
“Cooking, of course.” Mr Granger pauses. “Well, opening the containers, anyway.” He winks at Ron. “But food is food, right?” Ron’s stomach decides to rumble as if in agreement and Mr Granger’s smile widens. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
Mrs Granger is a pretty woman who looks a lot like Hermione. Ron catches himself staring at her over dinner. This is what Hermione will look like in twenty years, he thinks. I’m a lucky bloke.
They save the elf wine to have with pudding, and when Mr Granger’s eyes widen after his first sip, Ron mentally congratulates himself for his cleverness.
Mrs Granger only manages a half glass before she’s giggling like a schoolgirl, and from the way she’s huddled with Hermione in the kitchen and the speculative looks they keep shooting his way, Ron’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to know what they’re discussing.
A few strategic questions and Mr Granger is waxing poetic about dentistry. “It’s called paste because of the consistency,” he says. “Although there’s tooth soap and tooth powder, too.”
He’s handling his liquor a bit too admirably, so Ron decides to up the stakes. “Another glass?” he says, brandishing the bottle.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Mr Granger says, holding it up.
They discuss brushes (apparently there are mechanical ones, too) and all the things paste can do. They discuss flossing and a strange thing called a water pick, and all the while, Ron is getting more and more nervous. He doesn’t want to steal from these people, but it’s his dad, how can he disappoint him?
When everything is spread out on the table in front of him, he licks his lips, trying to decide what his dad would like the most. The tiny mirror thing is appealing, but Ron’s pretty sure Mr Granger would miss it, and it would just get lost in his dad’s huge Muggle shed, anyway. There are small tubes of paste that it’d be easy to pilfer, but the elf wine has made Ron’s reflexes less than perfect, so he doesn’t attempt a slight of hand, he just nods and smiles. And drinks more, all the while contemplating how to get his dad dental stuff.
Finally, the evening is over, and Ron, desperate, tries to excuse himself to go to the loo. Surely some brushes and some of the paste will be there, he thinks. But when he gets there, the loo is empty but for towels and soap. It’s the guest toilet, he realises. Bloody hell!
When it’s time to go, there’s nothing he can do, and, resigned to going home empty handed, he sighs. Guess I’m not cut out for a life of crime, he thinks.
Mrs Granger has packed up some food for them to take home. “We’re so glad you could spend Christmas Eve with us,” she says, pressing the package into Hermione’s hands. Leaning in, she hugs Hermione and then, surprisingly, Ron.
Ron, still a bit tipsy, even contemplates levitating some dental items into his pockets, but knows Hermione would notice, so he doesn’t, but he does cast a longing look behind him as they’re finally shown to the door.
Mr Granger grins as he opens it. “Don’t you think I didn’t see what you were doing there, young man,” he says.
Ron blinks. He can feel his face going red. “Sir?”
“You’re considering a career in dentistry, aren’t you?”
Ron’s mouth drops open. “Er--”
“Well, I know a kindred spirit when I see one.” Mr Granger reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bag. “So I made you up a sample bag. It’s got toothpaste, a toothbrush, some floss and some mouthwash.” Pressing it into Ron’s hand, he grins. “And if you do make a fortune in your world, just remember who got you started, yeah?”
Ron’s hands close over the bag and he exhales. Problem solved! “Thank you! And happy Christmas.” He hugs Mr Granger, who, while clearly surprised, nevertheless hugs him back.
“I never knew you were so interested in dentistry,” says Hermione as they walk down the road to the hidden Apparation spot.
Ron grins, clasping her hand. “I’m not sure I did either, but it’s funny the things you discover about yourself around the holidays.”
***
Author/Artist: alisanne
Pairing(s): Ron/Hermione, Mr and Mrs Granger, Arthur Weasley.
Prompt: Prompt #66: Ron’s first Christmas with Hermione’s parents (let’s just assume that their memories were restored and they remember her). Bonus: Arthur Weasley asking/suggesting that Ron swipe something Muggle from the house for his Muggle collection/shed.
Word Count: 1750
Rating: G
Contains (Highlight to view): *No warnings except a few larcenous thoughts.*
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Thank you to oakstone730 for the inspiring prompt, to the Mini_Fest mods for throwing this fun fest once more, and to my beta readers for their assistance.
Summary: Christmas can bring out hidden traits.
***
An Interest in Dentistry
***
Ron’s thrilled when Hermione tell him the news, of course. Who wouldn’t be pleased that their girlfriend’s parents’ memories have been restored and that they finally remember her? “I knew you could do it, love,” he whispers into her hair as he hugs her.
But of course, there are complications.
“You’re not going to be here for Christmas?” asks Molly when they break the news to Ron’s family that they’ll be spending Christmas Eve at the new Granger residence now that they’ve moved back to England.
Ron nods. “We will, Mum,” he assures her. “We’re just going to be there for dinner the night before.”
Molly sighs. “All right. But I just wanted the family all together this year--” She trails off, but Ron knows what she means.
“Don’t worry, Mum. Everything will be fine.” He smiles. “And maybe next year they’ll come here for dinner.”
Molly perks up at that. “Oh, that would be lovely,” she says. She frowns. “Do you think they’d like it here?” she asks, looking around.
“I’m sure they’d love it,” says Ron. “Who wouldn’t?” With a smile, Molly pats his shoulder, moving away, but as he thinks about it later, he starts to worry. What if they hate him? What if they blame him for having stolen away their daughter and they never want to meld families?
The thoughts distract him over supper, so when his dad comes to him and drags him out to his shed to chat, Ron’s too busy worrying to ponder why.
“This is an unprecedented opportunity, son,” says Arthur as he putters about. And as he babbles, Ron just nods, used to his dad’s ramblings.
He worries about what to say to the Grangers, what to do at their home, hell, even what to wear for Christmas Eve dinner with them, and, distracted, barely pays attention to what his dad’s saying. He’s learned over the years that when his dad’s like this, it’s best just to nod and smile. “Right, mm hm--”
“...so glad you’re agreeable to this, son,” says Arthur, the tone of excitement in his voice breaking through Ron’s mental musings. “I can even give you a list of the things I’d like.”
Ron frowns. “Er...list?”
“Well, yes.” Arthur’s bent over some contraption. “I mean, you don’t want to get me something I already have, do you? What would be the point of that?”
“Right.” Ron clears his throat. “So, just to be clear, what am I doing?”
“Getting me Muggle items from the Grangers.” Arthur beams at him. “Nothing too complicated, of course. Hermione says they tend to people’s teeth, so perhaps you could find out what that’s all about and get one of those teethbrush things? Oh, and maybe even some of the stuff they put on teeth, what’s that called? Teeth cleaner?”
“Toothpaste,” says Ron, recalling things Hermione has said.
“Ah, right.” Arthur frowns. “Why do they call it that, anyway? Does it help Muggle teeth stay stuck to their gums or something?”
“I...” Ron shakes his head. “I’ve no idea.”
Arthur smiles. “Slip that question in, too, then,” he says. “May as well get it from the experts.”
“Right.” Ron bites his lip and thinks about how to say what he wants to say. “Although...do you think I ought to be pilfering stuff from them the first time I meet them?”
“Oh, I’m sure they won’t miss a few small items,” Arthur says, waving his hand. “Maybe Hermione can help you.”
Ron is not going to involve Hermione in this scheme, he knows that much. “I’ll handle it, Dad,” he says, hoping he’s right.
“Brilliant.” Arthur nods. “I knew you would.” He frowns at the contraption in his hands. “Now I wonder what this lever does?”
Knowing better than to mention anything about his dad’s request to anyone, Ron keeps it to himself, but as Christmas draws closer, he starts to get nervous. What if I get caught? he thinks. What if they have some sort of Muggle alarm system to alert them when things are stolen?
It’s Harry who gives him the answer, oddly enough. “So you’re having Christmas Eve with your future in-laws, eh?” He shakes his head. “Lucky. It could be a lot worse.”
Ron thinks about Harry, about the fact that Malfoy’s parents are both in Azkaban and that Malfoy is unlikely to want to celebrate anything. “What are you two doing, then?” he asks.
“Dinner with Andromeda and Teddy.” Harry smiles faintly. “And it’s my job to keep Draco from the brandy. When he gets too drunk he doesn’t notice anything. The house could fall down around him and he wouldn’t care.” He shrugs. “I’m fine with it, but Andromeda doesn’t want Teddy to start emulating his drunk cousin. He already adores Draco and wants to do everything he does.”
Drunk. Long after the conversation’s over, Ron thinks about it. If he gets the Grangers drunk, they won’t notice anything he does. And even if they do, maybe they won’t care. He could make off with a major home appliance and they’d just smile. He remembers Madam Pomfrey talking about how Muggles were very susceptible to wizarding liquor and he smiles. This may not be that difficult after all.
Hermione is a bit suspicious when Ron tucks a bottle of extra potent elf wine into his robes, but when he explains it’s a special gift for a special night, she smiles.
The Grangers live in a nice house in Chiswick. As Ron and Hermione walk hand-in-hand up the walkway, he admires the holly berry bushes lining the walk. “Mum would love this,” he says.
“We could plant her some holly,” says Hermione as she reaches for the doorknob.
The door opens before she touches it and a tall, thin man with bushy brown hair is standing there. “Hermione,” he says, enveloping her in a hug.
Ron hangs back, watching.
“Dad.” Hermione is beaming. “This is Ron.”
Mr Granger looks Ron over. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Ron. Hermione’s told us all about you.” His handshake is firm, his expression open and friendly. Ron relaxes. “Do come in.”
“Where’s Mum?” asks Hermione as they step inside and the door is closed.
“Cooking, of course.” Mr Granger pauses. “Well, opening the containers, anyway.” He winks at Ron. “But food is food, right?” Ron’s stomach decides to rumble as if in agreement and Mr Granger’s smile widens. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
Mrs Granger is a pretty woman who looks a lot like Hermione. Ron catches himself staring at her over dinner. This is what Hermione will look like in twenty years, he thinks. I’m a lucky bloke.
They save the elf wine to have with pudding, and when Mr Granger’s eyes widen after his first sip, Ron mentally congratulates himself for his cleverness.
Mrs Granger only manages a half glass before she’s giggling like a schoolgirl, and from the way she’s huddled with Hermione in the kitchen and the speculative looks they keep shooting his way, Ron’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to know what they’re discussing.
A few strategic questions and Mr Granger is waxing poetic about dentistry. “It’s called paste because of the consistency,” he says. “Although there’s tooth soap and tooth powder, too.”
He’s handling his liquor a bit too admirably, so Ron decides to up the stakes. “Another glass?” he says, brandishing the bottle.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Mr Granger says, holding it up.
They discuss brushes (apparently there are mechanical ones, too) and all the things paste can do. They discuss flossing and a strange thing called a water pick, and all the while, Ron is getting more and more nervous. He doesn’t want to steal from these people, but it’s his dad, how can he disappoint him?
When everything is spread out on the table in front of him, he licks his lips, trying to decide what his dad would like the most. The tiny mirror thing is appealing, but Ron’s pretty sure Mr Granger would miss it, and it would just get lost in his dad’s huge Muggle shed, anyway. There are small tubes of paste that it’d be easy to pilfer, but the elf wine has made Ron’s reflexes less than perfect, so he doesn’t attempt a slight of hand, he just nods and smiles. And drinks more, all the while contemplating how to get his dad dental stuff.
Finally, the evening is over, and Ron, desperate, tries to excuse himself to go to the loo. Surely some brushes and some of the paste will be there, he thinks. But when he gets there, the loo is empty but for towels and soap. It’s the guest toilet, he realises. Bloody hell!
When it’s time to go, there’s nothing he can do, and, resigned to going home empty handed, he sighs. Guess I’m not cut out for a life of crime, he thinks.
Mrs Granger has packed up some food for them to take home. “We’re so glad you could spend Christmas Eve with us,” she says, pressing the package into Hermione’s hands. Leaning in, she hugs Hermione and then, surprisingly, Ron.
Ron, still a bit tipsy, even contemplates levitating some dental items into his pockets, but knows Hermione would notice, so he doesn’t, but he does cast a longing look behind him as they’re finally shown to the door.
Mr Granger grins as he opens it. “Don’t you think I didn’t see what you were doing there, young man,” he says.
Ron blinks. He can feel his face going red. “Sir?”
“You’re considering a career in dentistry, aren’t you?”
Ron’s mouth drops open. “Er--”
“Well, I know a kindred spirit when I see one.” Mr Granger reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bag. “So I made you up a sample bag. It’s got toothpaste, a toothbrush, some floss and some mouthwash.” Pressing it into Ron’s hand, he grins. “And if you do make a fortune in your world, just remember who got you started, yeah?”
Ron’s hands close over the bag and he exhales. Problem solved! “Thank you! And happy Christmas.” He hugs Mr Granger, who, while clearly surprised, nevertheless hugs him back.
“I never knew you were so interested in dentistry,” says Hermione as they walk down the road to the hidden Apparation spot.
Ron grins, clasping her hand. “I’m not sure I did either, but it’s funny the things you discover about yourself around the holidays.”
***