Draco Malfoy and the Seven

The Trial of Ronald Weasley

April 12th

Hermione's POV

The anticipation of seeing her parents in just a short amount of time was comparable to how she'd felt when their memories were first recovered. Anxiety, wariness, and hope stood out prominently amongst her other feelings as she tried to keep herself from melting into a panicked puddle on the floor. She needed to center herself, so she pulled on a few of the breathing and mindfulness tactics Pansy had taught her.

Inhale

Draco is chatting with his mother.

Exhale

I'm wearing a midnight blue cotton dress.

Inhale

They want to see me. They agreed to this.

Exhale

I smell roasted vegetables, chicken, and Draco's whiskey.

Inhale

"Hermione?" She's so focused on her breathing that she doesn't register that Evie has escorted her parents into the sitting room and her father has said her name. She zones in on her father first, noting with some surprise the multitude of gray strands that had worked their way through his sandy hair. Something his mother had always lightheartedly teased him about was how much of a creature of habit he was; his choice of clothing was not excluded from this. If she thought about it, she could admit it's most likely where she got her own taste for simplistic style. He wore simple brown khakis, loafers, and a soft blue sweater that matched the color of her dress. Maybe they subconsciously chose the color because it reminded them of the thing that bonded them: the sea.

She wasn't quite ready to meet his gaze, so she took in the sight of her mother instead. Her mom had always been more extravagant between the two of them, and where the teasing had always been light for her father, she'd felt her mother's comments about her lack of care for her clothing choices were a bit harsher.

You're such a beautiful girl, Hermione; why don't you ever style your hair?

How about a shopping trip? We could update your wardrobe.

Let's do your makeup; it could really accentuate your natural beauty.

Sure, none of the remarks were outright critical, but Hermione had always thought there was a double meaning to her words, and it left her with feelings of self-doubt, which were only exacerbated by the bullying she experienced at school.

Jean Granger's hair was styled into her uniform slick bob, her makeup done to perfection, and a beautiful set of pearl earrings. A black sleeveless blouse paired with matching wide-leg trousers and peep-toe pumps painted the image of a stunning woman who meant business. That was the dominant trait she was sure she had inherited from her mom: her determination to accomplish every goal she set for herself. Not that her father was lazy, but he was the more easygoing of the two.

Gathering her courage, she finally settles her gaze on her father. Gone is the guarded expression that had been present at every visit since they remembered who she was; in its place was a softness only equated to encouragement and acceptance, and it nearly broke her.

Her mother's expression shocked her the most; it held notes of pride and eagerness. The barrage of emotions flying through her brain at lightspeed made her feel lightheaded, so she took a few more steadying breaths and looked to Draco for the support she desperately needed.

"Deep breaths." He whispers in her ear as he bends to take her hand from her sitting position. "You are strong, and you've got this." The confidence he has in her helps break down some of the anxiety building within her. She quickly reminds herself of the things she's overcome and how much stronger she will be for it.