Mothers Know Best
By
Lil Malfoy

A mother is not a person to lean on, but a person to make leaning unnecessary.

-Dorothy C. Fisher

It had been a beautiful day in March when two young man and a young woman walked through the paths of Diagon Alley. Winter was slowly coming to its end slightly, and the snow from the last storm had begun to melt slowly, and the sun was beginning to shine so brightly that you could almost feel the heat grazing on you, even with the cold. When you would breathe, you could see your warm breaths meet the cold air in front of you, making it seem as though you were smoking.

The three continued to move around the crowds within the Alley. It had become very popular after the death of You-Know-Who, becoming a place where now everyone went to with more enthusiasm, and less of a fear that they were in any possible danger. However, it was because of all this, that the group was getting an enormous amount of attention as they walked quickly.

One boy in particular had made an attempt at covering his face, but it was obvious that it hadn’t worked. The other young man besides him, a redhead, seemed to not have minded the sudden attention and began to walk a little taller, while the girl simply rolled her eyes. Although, not even she could handle the stares she was getting and the sudden whispering of those that they walked passed.

“Is that the trio?”

“That’s Harry Potter!”

“Look, it’s Ronald Weasley... isn’t he amazing!”

Her eye’s widened suddenly, as her eyes shot like daggers in the direction of where it came from, and then suddenly calmed down. She needed to keep her composure, but lately it had been rather difficult to do so. It was hard to keep feelings like that hidden... especially when it came to hiding it for more then five years. She sighed slightly, and shoved her hands into her pocket as the group moved, finding herself trailing not too far behind the two tall boys, that she would call nothing less then her best friends.

The three turned into a coffee shop, a new one, opened by a few of the students that had graduated with them. Stretching slightly, the redhead pulled off his jacket, his skin still a reddish color even though he was covered up very well. Winter wasn’t one of his best seasons. The three took a seat at the table, and ordered a few drinks, and sat back talking to each other as they waited.

“Mione, this is serious,” The redheaded young man complained, as he grabbed a handful of sugar packages once their drinks had arrived, “I think my mum wants me to grow up cold and alone.”

Ronald Weasley had grown to be an amazing young man, not to say that he wasn’t when he was younger, but he was certainly different now... sort of. Now though, he was further learning the meaning of work, since he was training to become an auror with one of his best friends, and he had also become rather charming... when he stopped blushing to his ears and became comfortable with whomever he was around. He had become more talented at the art of finding women... but then again, he didn’t normally mean to. One minute he was talking to them about something as simple as... Quidditch, and the next thing he knew he was introducing them to his mother. His mother; now that’s when things got a bit more difficult.

“You can’t honestly blame your mum for getting dumped, Ron. It’s a part of life... and it just happens to happen to you more often then it does to others.

The dark-haired boy said, with a chuckle, moving a spoon softly through his drink, trying to ignore the constant giggling of the young girls around him. Who knew that saving the world could get a boy so much attention? If he hadn’t been Harry Potter, but someone else that just looked like him, he was sure that the most attention he would have gotten was from one of the statues put up in the corner of the room. He blew a piece of his messy dark hair out of his eyes as it fell from standing up straight at one point and then collapsing towards his right eye. His hair always did this, but even more often now, then it did when he was younger. It seemed as though it had a life of it’s own, and grew with age. At least the hair had distracted him from seeing the sudden glare he was getting from Ron.

“He’s just joking with you, Ron, but I must say I partly agree.”

Hermione chirped in once again, crossing her legs under the table and sitting black slightly as she did so, letting her tea cool off, unlike the other two boys, who seemed to be in a rush to drink it. She crossed her arms slightly, and slouched a bit, letting her bushy hair fall behind her shoulders. Today was barely what she could’ve considered a good hair day, but she none of the less figured she should wear it down. She worked for the Ministry, so if she didn’t tie it back almost every day her hair would always get in the way of her writing, leading to her never wearing it down. That, and Ron had said himself that he had preferred her wearing her hair down when she was around him...

“You what!?” Ron said, blinking at Hermione.

She was normally rather fair when it came to choosing sides... when it came to not being on one of the opposing sides of course. Hermione knew that it was best to stay out of the disagreements that Harry and Ron had, even though they were barely that important or major. The two barely fought as much as she and Ron did. She sat up a bit, looking at Ron from across the table, her eyes meeting his blue ones, that seemed to sparkle slightly with the cold.

“I’m talking about the blaming your mother part. She can’t help how she feels about the women you bring to meet her... she probably just doesn’t think they’re good enough for you. I’m sure it won’t be too long until she’ll find someone she likes.”

Ron frowned suddenly, and bit his lip from further complaining and reached for his cup.

“No, Ron, don’t drink that-” Hermione said, but it had already been too late.

He quickly put the plate back down and grabbed a napkin to pat down his burnt lips, and Harry held back his laughs. “Yet...” Hermione said, completing her sentence and looking over at Harry, whose laughter was beginning to slip out slightly.

She smirked at Harry shaking her head slightly at him, and looking passed him, taking note of the attention he was getting. He had to of been used to all of that by now, after all he had been getting it all since his first year at Hogwarts... but then again, he hadn’t defeated You-Know-Who in his first year, now had he? Well... he did, didn’t he, but not completely! Her attention went back to Ron, who rubbed at his lips pathetically. “Ow...” She heard him mutter, and couldn’t help, but smile slightly.

“Whom are you bringing to meet her tonight, exactly?”

Harry asked him, the topic of the question causing Hermione’s smile to fade rather quickly. Talking about whom Ron was going to date next was not exactly something that she wanted to sit down and listen to. She sighed slightly, and went back to slouching, watching as the two boy’s spoke back and forth to one another.

“Lydia, and she bloody well better like her! The girls perfect! And she’s Puerto Rican!” Ron said, with a grin, sitting up in his seat slightly, his freckles practically glowing as his face became warmer.

Harry snorted, and Hermione’s eyes widened. What the bloody hell was he talking about when he said that. “Ron, what does her being Puerto Rican have to do with anything?” Harry asked, looking highly amused, glancing over at Hermione, just knowing her reaction wouldn’t be the best one ever, and just as he expected she added, “Exactly, please explain to us why that would ever possibly matter!?”

“Well... after a while of bringing certain girls, British girls to meet her, my mum, I figured maybe she’s looking for a certain type of girl...” Ron said, slowly, looking at the two of his friends pathetically.

Harry couldn’t hold back his laughs any longer, mainly for how thick his friend could be. Ronald obviously hadn’t taken notice of the certain things that his mother didn’t like when he brought girls to meet her, Harry however had. So far Harry had heard the basic, she’s not very intelligent, she didn’t have a very good job, her eye’s aren’t brown enough, she’s far too tall, and, his favorite, she get’s along with you far too well. He loved Mrs. Weasley, but her tactics would have been far too obvious for him... for Ron however, he didn’t seem to notice. He who doesn't understand should put it in perspective. Who has brown eyes, isn’t very tall, has a good job, in particularly at the Ministry, and doesn’t get along very well with Ron at times?

“Are you telling me that your mother is racist!? Ron... you’re...ridiculous! How could you possibly think such a thing!?” Hermione said, shaking her head, obviously not finding this as funny as Harry.

Ron gave her a pout, but it was a quick one that didn’t last very long, as he tried to think of a way he could explain all this. “Well, it’s just... Mione, she doesn’t like anyone I’m bringing to her... I’ve brought so many to meet her over the past few years that you would think that she would have liked at least one of them by now! So I figured there has to be a certain type that she has in mind.” Ron explained, which only had Harry laughing a bit harder, “And you! What the bloody hell is up with you lately!?”

Ron had watched as his best friend had been abnormally giddy for the past few weeks, laughing about every little thing really, making it seem as though he was high on something. Harry shrugged, giggling a bit more. Of course there was something... something he certainly wouldn’t tell Ron about, mainly because he didn’t want to die. He wasn’t exactly sure who would kill him more if he told Ron about what exactly had happened... Ginny or Ron?

Ron’s eyes narrowed on his friend, and his eyebrow furrowed slightly, as though he was just interrogating him with his eyes, causing Harry to stop laughing and finish it off with a simple smirk as he looked straight down into his tea cup. “Ronald Weasley this is your mother we’re talking about here! You can’t possibly blame her for wanting you to amount a bit more to the women you’re bringing home, I doubt it has anything to do with race!”

“What is that supposed to mean “amount a bit more!”? The women I bring home are just fine!” Ron said, crossing his arms suddenly, his attention now on Hermione.

Hermione snorted, shaking her head. “Ronald please! None of them have any depth. No goals... they’re just your eye candy!” She said, smirking slightly at the shocked reaction she had gotten from him.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about! They have plenty of depth! Take Jamie for example. She had goals!” Ron said, looking at Harry for some help.

“I doubt wanting breast implants would count much as a goal, Ron.” Harry said, grinning a bit as he finally took a sip of his tea.

So Hermione had been right, he hadn’t brought many girls with depth home, but they had enough depth for him to understand, and there had in fact been a few girls who had been good... but his mother had scared them off... or maybe that was just him. Poor Ron wasn’t exactly sure... “Exactly.” Hermione said, interrupting his thoughts.

“Well the two of you no longer need to worry! Lydia has a job, money, and can support herself just fine, that, and she has goals and depth... whatever the bloody hell that is! My mum should like her just fine, and if she doesn’t, we all know why!” Ron said, taking his tea and drinking some of it.

“Oh really, and why would she not like her?” Hermione asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“Because she’s Puerto Rican.”

Hermione simply shook her head, as Harry practically choked on his tea. Honestly, some men were just horrible... why couldn’t she love one who wasn’t?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Weasley family, minus Percy, Harry, Hermione, and Lydia, sat at the dining room table that night, with Mrs. Weasley not keeping her eye’s off Ron or Lydia for one single second. If she wasn’t looking at one, she most likely was looking at the other. The clicking and clanging of forks and knives finally seemed to calm down, and, as expected, Fred and George were the first to break the silence.

“So what exactly was your name again?” Fred asked her, raising any eyebrow, while George added, “Livia? Lybia? Tibia?”

This hadn’t been the first time the two had asked her name. So far they had done it at least three times in between the point of which she had walked through the front door with Ron somewhat behind her, caring the salad she had made for dinner, which Mrs. Weasley hadn’t appreciated very much, for the sure fact that she was the one who was supposed to cook for the family and only she. Ron looked up and over at his two twin brothers, his face obviously showing his sudden irritation towards the two. “Lydia.” He said, obviously trying to sustain the annoyance in his voice.

“Ah, yes, that was it...” Fred said, nodding and picking at his food a bit, while George added, “And how old are you, exactly.”

“Twenty-five.”

The table seemed to have gotten far quieter then it had been before... without the sudden coughs his mother had let out when she began to choke on her drink. Harry bit on his lip, trying to refrain from smirking, and looked over at Ginny, who was trying hard enough to avoid his eyes. He frowned slightly. She wouldn’t be able to avoid him for very long...

“Twenty-five!?”

Mrs. Weasley muttered, in shock, and then looked over at Ron, her eye’s narrowing slightly, and then quickly moved to Lydia who was getting up at of her seat. There was no question that this girl was very proper... and very beautiful indeed. Half the people at the table were probably wondering what she was possibly doing with Ron... no offense to him though, but she looked as though she would be dating a Professional Quidditch player, not an Auror in training. She had long black hair that reached down to her hips, these shining brown eyes, tan colored skin, and a model like body structure. Ron certainly had gotten lucky with this one...

“Yes, twenty-five. Um, can you please direct me to where the bathroom is.”


“I will,” Ginny said, deciding to do so, so then she could briefly get from those emerald green eyes that had practically had her going off into a girlish daze every time she even glanced over at them.

The two left, and Mrs. Weasley easily took this moment in time to look back at her youngest son. “Ronald Weasley!” She began, standing up, “Twenty-five!?

“Mum... it’s not that bad. She’s only a few years older then me-”

“I will not have it, Ronald! She’s far too old for you, and is much more experienced... she’ll rush you!” She said, rather quickly.

“Rush him?” Fred said, with a smirk, while George laughed and added, “I don’t think she’ll keep him around long enough to rush ‘m into anything, mum!”

“Now listen here!” Ron said, getting up suddenly, but his mother silenced him rather quickly.

“She’s far too much for you, Ronald, and you can be with her if you would like,” And here it comes, “But I will not approve of her.”

And with that Mrs. Weasley turned around and walked into the kitchen. The table went rather silent, other then the sounds the utensil’s made as Mr. Weasley continued eating, knowing that the smartest thing to do was stay out of an argument between his wife and his children whenever he could stay out of it. It was hard not to choose sides when it came to his kids. They were all so... well, it’s sort of a father thing to him. He still remembered when they were in diapers, and their blue eye’s had a way of reminding him that they were his babies... it just made things difficult when it came to saying no.

Hermione started to eat as well. The girl didn’t seem to act as though a thing was wrong... and Harry could’ve sworn he saw a bit of a twinkle in her eye that she didn’t have before Mrs. Weasley had begun to speak, and every once in a while Harry could’ve sworn he saw a bit of a smile form at the corner of her mouth and then quickly go away. His eye’s narrowed, but he quickly looked away to watch as Ron finally made a movement, pushing his chair out of the way and walking towards the kitchen.

“Do you think Livia would go out with me?” Fred asked once it seemed as though Ron was out of view, and George simply snorted, shaking his head as he began to eat as well.

“Her name is Lydia, and I think she would rather snog a toad.” Hermione said sharply, doing what Ron himself would of done if he had possibly been at the table when Fred had said that.

Fred frowned at her, and George looked over at her and simply raised an eyebrow. He knew there was something up with Hermione... she was always so defensive.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Ron walked into the kitchen, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he watched his mother wash a few dishes within the sink instead of doing it magically. He leaned up against the doorway, deciding not to say anything at first, but after a moment he couldn’t hold back his protest. It just wasn’t fair... all he wanted to do was have her be satisfied, and he had tried so hard...

“There’s nothing wrong with her, mum, and you know it.”

He had begun, moving forward and leaning up against the counter, watching her as she washed. She paused suddenly, but didn’t glance over in his direction, and continued scrubbing. Her face was less tense then it had been, and her eyes were warm and soft as she began to explain whys he didn’t like this girl, basically making things up as she spoke. To be perfectly honest, Ron could’ve brought as many girls home as he wanted, but she would only agree to him being with one, and wouldn’t really stop disagreeing until he was with her. She did know best after all... this was her boy, her little boy, and unlike her other sons she expected to have some affect in whom he ended up with. He had always been her little boy, while her other sons had connected more with their father. Not that she cared any less for them, of course.

“Ron... I know it doesn’t seem like there’s anything wrong with her, now, but in a few years, not even, probably in a few months you’ll start noticing a difference, if, of course, you decide to stay with her. Older women... Oh, Ronald, we wouldn’t have ages if they didn’t amount to something, you know. She just... she knows... she knows how to play the field a bit more then you. I just... I worry that she might take advantage of the fact that you haven’t lived long enough to... to really understand what love is... you’ll jump into the relationship so fast that it’ll be over before you know it.”

She turned to face him now, and whipped her hands on her apron, drying them off and then reaching her hands forward to fix the collars of his shirt, and smiled at him, warmly. It almost seemed that she was going to cry, because her eye’s were getting a bit wet, at the boy standing in front of her. She remembered when he use to run over and would barely be able to reach her knee’s, and now look... he was ten times taller then her now, and she could barely reach his nose.

“You have such a strong heart... a warm heart, Ronald, you can’t just give it to anyone.”

Ron looked down at his mother. He knew that she was acting this way for his best interest, but he also knew that this couldn’t go on forever. To him, he needed to be able to take his own risks at some point in his life, and she just wasn’t allowing it. He wasn’t going to argue with her again though... she seemed as though she wanted to burst into tears anyway... he wasn’t exactly sure why, though. Finally he nodded, letting out a bit of a sigh, and giving her a small smile.

“And anyway... her hair isn’t curly enough.”

Oh dear...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had gotten late. The dinner table was no clear, and the others had separated into the comfort of their rooms. Hermione sat on the front steps as she watched from a distance as Ron said goodbye to Lydia, and then walked back towards the burrow. She shivered slightly, wrapping her arms around her knee’s that she could only reach because of the way she was sitting.

He gave her a small smile in the darkness, and took a seat next to her. “Well then...” Ron began, looking up at the clear night sky and then over at Hermione, “I think that went rather well, if I may say so myself.”

Hermione snorted, shaking her head slightly and smirking as she looked over at him. Even in the darkness she could see his eye’s, those bright blue eyes that made her heart race faster then it ever had. Not even being face to face with You-Know-Who could make her heart race that fast, or make her knee’s shake. Nope... just those eye’s of his could do that.

“What’s going to happen between you and Lydia then?”

Ron thought about it for a moment, his face scrunching up slightly as he looked up at the sky, his long nose wrinkling slightly as he did so, and then looked over at Hermione, and shrugged.

“Nothing, really...”

Hermione looked up. This hadn’t been the first time she had asked him this. The two would normally come out and sit on the front steps at the end of every night he had brought a girl home to meet his mother, and every night she would ask him the same thing, and every night she got the same response. Nothing, really... And every time she heard it, she couldn’t help, but inhale a breath, as though there was still hope. That there was still a chance...

“What was wrong with this one?”

Ron chuckled, and looked over at Hermione, their eye’s meeting.

“Asides from the fact that she was too old, her hair wasn’t,” He stretched a hand out and found a single curl in the large bush that she called her hair, “Curly enough,” And with that he pulled on her curl lightly, and watched it bounce a bit, and smiled, tiredly.

Her heart swelled up a bit, and she could feel it begin to ache slightly. Why did he ever touch her... why did he ever show such care? Did he know how much he tortured her... doing things like that when she knew it wouldn’t be anything more then friendly.

“Oh...”

Was all she could say, nodding.

“Yea, so now I’ve got the perfect description of the woman I need to find.” Ron began and turned to face her, “She needs to be shorter then me, and yet she has to be able to stick up for herself well... enough so that we can’t get along very well at times. Her job has to be a good one, and she has to be very intelligent, and most importantly, she has to have brown eye’s and...”

Ron froze. Wait a second, he began to think to himself, as he stared at Hermione, so much that it surprised her that he wasn’t drilling a hole through her with his eyes. She looked over at him, and gulped slightly.

“And what?”

His hand moved towards the single curl in her hair, and pulled on it lightly.

“And...”

Ron muttered, almost in a whisper, and suddenly Hermione felt that they were sitting closer then usual. Normally they sat close, it was pretty cold at night, but his face seemed so much closer. Her eye’s meet his. Had he actually finally gotten it, all on his own? His lips moved towards her slowly, and brushed up against her’s lightly, causing her eye’s to flutter slightly.

“And curly hair.”

Their faces were very close, but then again they had just kissed, so they were supposed to be. Her heart was almost in her throat by how high it was flying. “Ron...” She muttered, not sure what to say, but figuring she should break the silence in between the two.

“Hermione...” He muttered, and a smile began to form over his lips, “Do you think your going to be busy tomorrow, I would like to take you out... without Harry, maybe... afterwards, maybe you can meet my mum... I’m sure she’ll just love you...”

The last part was said with a bit of sarcasm, which caused her to smile as well as the two stared at each other. Finally she decided to speak, and with a smirk, she said, “Are you sure she’ll like me... I’m British, after all.”

He grinned, and leaned in for another kiss. “We could say your German...”

~~~~~~~~~~~

At the front window Mrs. Weasley watched as her son and his best friend kissed, and smiled. She crossed her arms, a feeling of satisfaction coming over her as she watched. God she was good... but what could you expect? She was his mother, and mothers know best.

A/N Well, that was it! My very first one-shot! Did you like it!? I love the Ron/Hermione ship, so I was happy to finally do one that was just based on there relationship without any interference. If you know of any good Ron/Hermione fanfictions, don’t be afraid to tell me about them! :)