Fore!

"You see, Molly, they have a bent metal pole, and they hit a tiny white ball into a small hole in the ground with a flag sticking out of it."

"What on earth are you rambling on about, Arthur? That sounds like an utterly boring game."

"The Muggles love it! Especially those Americans."

Arthur Weasley had a new Muggle fixation: the game of golf. He had been watching a television program in a Muggle electronics store and had seen the game for the first time. He was quite taken with it, and since then, he had been trying to convince someone in his family to go out and play it with him. Molly wasn't having it, Percy couldn't be torn away from his room, Fred and George, holding their smoking wands, said they were busy with homework, and Ginny said it was a "boy's game." The only one left now was Ron.

Arthur ascended the stairs to his youngest son's room, desperate to come up with any way that would convince the thirteen-year-old to go out with him and find one of these "golf courses." He knocked on the door and stepped in when it swung open.

Ron looked up from the book he had been reading on his bed, Flying With the Cannons, which was tattered, not because it had been bought second-hand, like a lot of the Weasley's things, but because Ron had read it so many times. "Yeah, Dad?"

Wringing his hands behind his back, Arthur began, "Um, Ron, you wouldn't happen to be busy this weekend, would you?"

Ron eyed his father cautiously. "No, why?"

"Oh, I just thought that I'd take you out on a little father-son bonding excursion."

"Where?"

"To play golf." There was no other way to put it.

"What's golf?"

"It's a Muggle sport with a bent metal pole and a tiny white ball . . ."

By the look on Ron's face, he wasn't having it either, so Arthur blurted out, "You can invite Harry and Hermione to go also, if you want." At the mention of his friends' names, Ron's eyes lit up. It was mid-July and he hadn't seen them in some time.

"Maybe Hermione's parents golf," Ron offered, setting aside the book and getting off of his bed. "We could split up into kids and adults, three to three."

Letting out a great sigh of relief that he didn't know he had been holding in, Arthur smiled. "Go ahead and owl them, then."

Ron ran past Arthur, and within moments, he could hear Ron banging on Percy's door and yelling, "Come on, Percy! Let me borrow Hermes for just two deliveries. It's not like I want to hex the bloody bird or anything."

Arthur smiled again, thinking, My, how my sons have grown so close . . .

***

Hermione's parents did indeed golf, and they knew the perfect golf course. After having loaned Arthur a pair of his golfing pants, a Polo shirt, and some golfing cleats, Dr. Granger drove the six of them out to the Links, the local country club. Once there, they split up into teams and went their separate ways. Arthur was dying to try to hardest course and test out everything he had learned, while the children wanted to keep it nice and simple.

Hermione went first, having been the only one who had ever golfed before. She demonstrated how to hold the "bent metal pole" and place your feet correctly. ("You see, you want a wider stance the farther you are trying to hit the ball. This helps you keep your balance.") She swung and hit the ball very far, landing on the putting green.

Harry went next, but his ball landed in the middle of the fairway, just missing the sand trap to the right.

Then it was Ron's turn, but he was having trouble keeping hold of his "bent metal pole," which Hermione told him was called a "club." As he swung it back to hit the ball off the pointy thing called a "tee," it flew from his hands, narrowly missing Harry's head. Ron cursed loudly, stalked over to Harry, picked up his club, stalked back to the tee, and tried again. This time he made contact, but the ball fell way short of even reaching Harry's.

The three piled into the golf cart, and Hermione drove Ron up to his ball. He got out and tried again, this time hitting it far, but landing in the sand trap. Cursing, he climbed back into the cart and they rode up to Harry's ball. He hit and landed on the green, a foot or two from Hermione's ball. Then Ron went down into the sand trap and tried hitting his ball out. He accomplished this after four or five frustrated strokes, and he emerged covered with sand. Harry and Hermione had to stifle their laughter when they saw the murderous look on Ron's face, which was as red as his hair.

Hermione completed the first hole with three strokes, having missed her first putt attempt, and Harry finished one behind her. Ron found the putting green after seven strokes, but for the life of him, he could not get that ball in the hole.

"Bloody ball!"

Having finally had enough, he threw down the club, stomped over to the ball, picked it up, and threw it into the hole himself. Harry and Hermione could just see the stream coming from his ears in his rage, but they still tried to contain their laughter. They failed.

As Harry practically rolled on the ground and Hermione held her stomach, tears streaming from their eyes, Ron glared at them, yelling, "What the bloody hell is so funny?"

"You . . . you let that . . ." Harry couldn't speak, so Hermione took a few deep breaths to help her own laughing to subside.

She stepped forward and placed her arm around Ron's shoulder, feeling his heavy breathing. The anger in Ron's face disappeared, but the redness remained as he stared down at Hermione. Her eyes were shining with tears, and she was still smiling broadly.

Crikey, she looks good, thought Ron.

Hermione didn't seem to notice Ron's staring, or she just didn't want to acknowledge it, because she just said, "Dear, dear Ron. Harry and I simply find it funny that a small white ball can get you so infuriated. It's not a big deal if you can't get the ball in the hole the first time. I think it'd be best if you just stuck to Quidditch."

She looked up at Ron, expecting an answer, but his eyes remained glazed over. She waved a hand in front of his face, and he jumped, blinking hard and looking at Harry, who was still smirking. The dark-haired boy winked, jumped onto the golf cart, and drove away, saying, "I'll see you two at the next hole."

Hermione glanced over her shoulder and saw Harry driving down the fairway. Looking back to Ron quizzically, she asked, "Why is he leaving?"

Ron simply put his own arm around Hermione's waist, his eyes sparkling as he gazed into hers. Pulling her a little closer, he quietly said, "I'm sorry about getting to worked up about Scabbers and Crookshanks last year. That whole row was my fault."

Feeling the heat rising off of herself, Hermione replied, "No, it wasn't. I was just a little taken with Crookshanks and . . ."

He put his finger on her mouth and leaned down, replacing his finger with his lips. Hermione was taken aback at first, staring at Ron's closed eyes in shock. But she eventually loosened up and allowed herself to be kissed.

When they broke away, Hermione slowly opened her eyes and looked up at Ron, both of them smiling. He took her hand, and they walked down the fairway together.

That'll be a story to tell my children, she thought. I can just hear it now: "You see, kids, I had my first kiss with this tall, lanky redhead on the putting green of hole one at the Links Country Club."

She smiled despite herself.