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There is a Ranger at a table, observing the show outside the Window.

On the table in front of him is a glass teapot, a steaming kettle, several cups and some little green nodule things.

Company, as always, is appreciated.

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Perhaps medical personel should be on stand-by.

The Ranger smiles drolly at him. "Ah, Kenaz, Kenaz. Meeting the father of an interesting daughter is no mere social function. It can quite often be a trial by fire."

He refills his cup again. "It was once said that a father of any daughter has instincts that are a cross between those of a guard dog...and a rabid lion."

That actually might be very wise. He's already been sort of warned about the Grandmama's cooking style.

Draco blinked, "What? That doesn't make any sense. Why wouldn't he have agreed already?" Forgetting that this time, nothing was arranged. He was making a decision for somebody himself. Not via his parents.

"Agreed already?" he echos. "Will this not be the first time you've met the family? Will they know anything about you other than what their daughter has told them? If you are fortunate, her father will be laid back and trusting. But quite often they may be highly...cautious about this strange interloper who has expressed interest in 'his baby girl'."

"Well, yes, but my fa..." He trailed off, as he realized. This was completely on his own. In fact, his mother didn't approve of the idea.

"I guess it would be, then..." Brief expression of worry flickered there before his face became its usual impassive look.

"Then may I suggest a bit of caution...and perhaps you may wish to get a haircut."

The and watch your tendency to pass judgement on large sections of humanity based on magical ability goes unsaid.

Draco's hand went to his hair, which was not that long, and styled. Or at least, he didn't think it was that long.

"What's wrong with my hair?" And well, he's already been making biiig steps for improvement there. Wednesday's somewhere between Squib and Muggle technically. He's been making allowances, and telling himself that she's more of a Squib. Or possibly simply a late bloomer on the magic end.

"Nothing I can see," the Ranger says dryly. "But that has been the traditional advice given to a young man about to meet the father of an "interesting young woman". Get a haircut and make sure all your vaccinations are up to date."

Rabid lion, remember?

Draco blinked, "Vaccinations? That a muggle term?"

The Ranger pointedly does not facepalm.

"Yes, it is," he says. "Vaccinations are treatments given to prevent you from getting a disease. Rabies is one of them."

He had no interest in taking Muggle Studies, though he probably really should have. Still a sheltered personality.

"We have potions and spells. We don't need any of that," he shrugged.

Okay, this requires a long drink of tea.

"It seems that I will have to study your wizarding culture more throughly if I am going to tease you successfully."

Verrrry sheltered.

"Well, I did say we keep to ourselves. We don't bother with muggles, and their culture as much as we can. Or at least did back home."

The Ranger gives him a look.

"Kenaz, for Valen's sake, lighten up a bit. Life is too important to be taken so seriously."

Draco eyed him, "I do have a sense of humour. You just haven't said anything I find amusing yet."

Well, you can lead a horse to water...

The Ranger shakes his head and turns back to his tea.

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