Chapter 19: Bittersweet Reunions

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Why are my palms so sweaty?

Was it always hotter than the pits of hell in this house?

Why in the world is my shirt collar so unbearably tight?
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Hermione
Closing my eyes, my brows pinched, I  attempt to breathe through the pain and joy I feel hearing my fathers voice. A montage of memories berate me in an instant. First one being every time my dad had ever wanted to enter my room, or space, he always said knock knock first.

Such a simple set of two repeated words, that would probably have just been a goofy memory that faded over time as I moved out. Now it's everything. A special moment I'll carry in my heart for the both of us.

Opening my eyes, I glimpse Draco gulping nervously while pulling at the collar of his white button up. In a way its nice to know he's nervous too, a bit comforting knowing even the big bad dragon is sweating these introductions.

Collecting himself, he reaches out for my left hand, kissing it with such a reverence I nearly lose my breath. With an extra parting kiss to my ring finger, he leads us down the stairs for dinner.

With a deep breath, I turn the corner and head into the kitchen. Steeling myself, I head into the fray.

My dad's- well no. Wendell Wilkins' back is to us when we enter. Dressed just as I remember, he's wearing a nice light blue button up with the sleeves rolled up above his elbows, and a navy vest over the top. A bit strange for how hot it tends to be down here, but that's Greg Granger for you, whether he realizes it or not.

Melanie Granger, now of course Monica Wilkins, trickle of soft laughter reaches my ears as if an enchanted tune. Before I start crying, I chose instead to launch myself into welcoming them in instead. Walking forward, I pass Wendell and round the island to face the entire group.

Grace's kind smile awaits us, knowing this is an odd situation but one needed all the same. Since we're obviously unable to tell them the full truth, I settled on an amnesia story for my parents when I knocked on their doorstep asking them to pretend I'm their granddaughter. After a kettle of tea, and some ungraceful sobbing, I was officially Hermione Granger, Grace and Michael Smith's only and most treasured grandchild.

"Hi! Wendell! Monica! It's so nice to see you both again," I say, kissing them each on the cheek politely. As it would likely be rather impolite to hug them like a baby koala, I step back into Draco's warmth.

The heat of him at my back strengthens me immensely, as he places his hands comfortably on my shoulders. With a glance up at him, a dimpled smile already adorning his face, I feel so much stronger than the Hermione that was struggling at the top of the stairs.

"How are you honey?" Monica says. Hearing my mother's endearment rolling so easily from her lips brings me a contented joy.

"Really well! I'm actually engaged," beaming, I slide over a bit angling myself into Draco's side and wrapping my arm around his waist.

"That's wonderful! I assume this is the lucky bloke?" Wendell inquires, quirking a suspicious brow at the blonde Adonis beside me.

With my hand rested on his abs, I look up with adoring eyes at my fiance before answering. "Yes, this is the man himself. Da- Wendell, Monica, this is Draco Malfoy my fiance."

"Hermione has nothing but raving reviews for you both. Well for you all truly. Glad to meet you all," Draco says shaking my dad's hand before kissing my mother's cheek.

"Oh how wonderful. We must go look at dresses while you're in town! Goodness, I just invited myself didn't I? Would that be alright with you and Grace honey?" My mother asks sheepishly.

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