A.N. Yeah hey. This is me, once again attempting a Dramione fic. I hope it goes over well. Please tell me that it does! I will also admit to seeing this idea in the story Welcome to the Granger Family by Beloved Discord. I loved the idea so much, I thought I'd give it a try. So…please, oh please, enjoy!

This is for Ciara, if she somehow finds it in her heart to read this…love ya, girl!

Disclaimer: You know, I was originally going to have Kentia's name be Kenzie, but Word told me that was spelt wrong. So I looked at its suggestions, and it said Kentia was spelt right. I must say, such a lovely name! And...Yeah nope. Don't own Harry Potter.

Just Stop Talking

The Porter sisters hated Hermione Granger, and everyone in the family knew it.

It wasn't that they also hated Hermione…they just understood. Hermione wasn't the easiest cousin to hang out with.

She had just graduated from her final year at her prestigious boarding school, and the family thought having a big dinner would be nice, not only to congratulate her, but also to have the Granger family in its entirety together again. Almost like a family reunion with Hermione's graduation as the catalyst.

The Porter sisters, two of Hermione's cousin that were of the same age, dreaded the implications of the get together.

They were going to have to talk to her.

"God, this is going to be horrible," one of them said. "She's probably just going to tell us something about history all dinner." They were currently standing in the sitting room at some Grand Hotel that the cousin-in-question's parents' had booked for the family gathering.

The other rolled her eyes in agreement. "Oh, I know. And probably tell us how inappropriate our clothes are for the occasion. So what if I'm wearing purple skinny jeans? At least I own a pair of decent fashion sense."

The first Porter sister laughed. "Although…didn't she have to go back for her last year?" She suddenly remembered something their grandmother had said about Hermione and her school.

"Yeah, something like how there was something big happening at the school, so no one went for a whole year?"

"What kind of school does she go to?"

"Who knows. Who cares."

The Porter sisters laughed as if they just made a joke or something.

"So basically Hermione was held back." More giggles.

"I think I'm almost impressed." Gigglers gonna giggle. "I mean, Hermione? Held back?"

They were beside themselves laughing, and the insults kept piling on. "I wonder what kind of people go to that school? More weirdos like her?"

"Oh, no doubt. I wonder if she even made any friends?"

"Or worse: she actually made friends."

They collapsed back into their laughter as more family members were ushered in.

"Now girls, stop teasing your cousin," their aunt Yvonne scolded them. "I hear that Hermione was involved with the happenings at her school. That she went through some sort of trauma."

That sobered them a little, but only because their doubt at the statement their aunt made replaced their laughs.

"Trauma? What kind of trauma?"

Yvonne shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure. Just that she was involved, and that she's sort of changed by it."

"Changed by it? Have you seen her?" They hadn't seen Hermione for almost five years. It was hard to imagine her any different than what they already had an image of.

"Not here. When her parents came back from Australia I went for a visit."

"When did they go to Australia?"

"Last year."

"Huh. And how did you say Hermione was?"

"Well, I heard she had just returned from whatever it was that happened. She looked a little…broken. Like she'd been through a war."

"Sure. A war. Right under our noses." The Porter sisters snorted.

"I'm just saying what I saw. Hopefully whatever had her so down will be gone. I'd hate to see her so…hollow again." Yvonne took her leave then to go greet more of her family.

The Porter sisters took the news just given in a couple seconds' silence before rubbing it off as bollocks and went back to teasing their cousin.

"I wonder if she has a boyfriend."

"Oh god, a boyfriend? For Hermione? I'd be more likely to believe she'd been through a war first."

Hermione sat at the dinner table, wearing a modest black dress that went to her knees, covered a decent amount of her chest, and sleeves that went to her wrists.

The Porter sisters snickered behind their hands. "Okay, so she wore a dress. I owe you five dollars."

"Keep it. Because her shoes so don't go with it, and you called that one."

"She doesn't look war-worn at all."

"Go get the five dollars from Billy."

They laughed for the principle of the thing this time, both silently thinking that the shoes she wore or the dress she wore with them didn't really make a difference.

Because Hermione Granger did look different.

Older.

Like she had done something big and not everything went perfectly. Like she had lost something she knew she'd never get back. It was her eyes that gave it away.

But her smile was bright, and her voice was still as annoyingly spouting as always, so everyone was none the wiser over her change.

Or they were pretending not to be.

Billy came over to pay up his bet. "So, dude, Hermione is just the same as always. Except every time Uncle Greg asks her about boys, she'll blush and change the subject really quick."

"No way." The sisters gasped.

"Yeah. And then her mom will nudge her in the ribs and say something about the owners of this hotel."

"What about them?" one of them asked.

"I don't know. I was too busy trying to decide how much me and Hermione were related."

"You're sick, Billy. You're sick!"

"We're third cousins! We're legal!"

"Get out of here, Billy!"

Billy fixed his collar and then returned to his seat across from Hermione, grinning at her as he sat down.

The Porter's brought their heads close together after another look of disgust thrown at their third cousin. "Who owns this hotel?"

"It's new. Been here for about a year."

"Who'd you hear that from?"

"Hermione's dad."

"So who owns it?"

"Some company named Malfoy."

"Weird name."

"Right."

"Come to think of it, is this even a hotel?"

"Are their even rooms in this place?"

"We're not staying the night; it doesn't matter."

"You know, this place creeps me out."

"I feel all tingly."

"Don't be weird, Miranda."

"Shut up, Kentia."

Yvonne, who was sitting next to the girls, brought herself into the conversation. "I hear they called in a favor."

"Who?"

"The Granger's. They know the owner, or Hermione does or something. That the owner owes Hermione for something, so they agreed."

"What could anyone owe Hermione, and how big must it have been for them to loan a hotel to her whole family for the evening?" Miranda whined, aghast.

"Hey, maybe she knows the owner. If you know what I mean." Yvonne smirked at the repulsed look on the Porter sisters' faces.

"Whatever, Yvonne. Like Hermione would know what to do with a boy if she had one."

"Well, at least she'll always have Billy."

"Don't be weird, Miranda."

"Shut up, Kentia."

They were all lounging in the lounge of the joint now. There was soft music playing, and a few of the married family members were dancing.

Kentia, to be petty, went and nabbed Billy for a dance just as he was going to ask Hermione. He would have refused, but Hermione laughed (all in good fun), and said, "I promised little Manny my first dance."

Manny beamed victoriously at everyone present. The Porter sisters rolled their eyes, and Billy tugged Kentia out to the dance floor the same time Hermione followed Manny.

"So what do you know about her?" Kentia asked immediately.

Billy scowled. "She's got a boyfriend."

"Is it serious?"

"Sounds like it."

"What, did he propose?"

"No."

"Then how do you know he's even real? If there isn't a ring, there isn't a thing."

"That was so stupid. No wonder you didn't get into the same school as Hermione."

"Shut up, Billy. You didn't either."

"Shut up, Kentia, no one likes you."

"Her boyfriend isn't real. She's making him up."

"He sounds pretty real to me. She looks all happy when she talks about him. It sickens me."

"You sicken me."

"You need to work on your insults."

"Shut up, Billy. He isn't real."

"I sure hope so." He looked wistfully at his cousin. (His cousin.) Kentia rolled her eyes.

"Shut up, Billy."

Kentia left the dance floor, returning to her sister.

"So?" Miranda asked.

"She doesn't have a boyfriend."

"Of course she doesn't."

"Of course." The Porter sisters went to sit on a couch and watched as their least favorite cousin danced with every toddler within a five mile radius. Her hair, which was almost tamed at the beginning of the party, was now fully trying to reach for the clouds.

"Good thing that didn't come from our side of the family." Miranda commented.

"Right? It looks like an owl attacked it."

"I think it looks cute," Billy said, coming up to stand next to the girls.

They scoffed at him for the umpteenth time that evening. "Billy, you didn't even know her name until tonight."

"Sure I did. Everyone talks about Hermione and her great achievements."

"Billy, stop trying to pick up your cousin."

"Hey, Kentia, there are some cultures who date within the family. You know, to keep the bloodline pure and all that."

Just as one of the Porter siblings was about to respond, someone beat them to the punch.

A very attractive, pale-blond-grey-eyed someone.

"And to think, Granger fed me all that garbage about equality when even her own family acts this way."

The Porter sisters stared wide eyed at the new-comer, not quite knowing what to say. Or do.

"Er…are you part of the family?" Miranda finally asked, glad that she didn't stutter. Her voice did come out quite high, though. She held back a blush and pinched her sister's arm for support.

Kentia shoved her arm off, trying to appear more level-headed than her sister.

He looked down his nose at them, raising an eyebrow. "Of course not. I'm here for—"

"Draco!" All heads turned in the direction of Hermione, who had paused mid-step with her current partner: five-year-old Henry.

The new-comer and Hermione held eye contact for a second before he began to walk towards her.

Hermione addressed him again once he was ten feet away, just on the outskirts of the dance floor. "What are you doing here? I thought you said you weren't going to show up."

"And I thought you said you were going to wear green."

The family watched as Hermione's lips twitched, fighting off a smile. But instead of rebuking the man, she swept Henry in a deep circle, ushering gleeful cackles from him.

The attractive male—Draco, Hermione called him—watched Hermione dance as the other couples tried to get back into the party mood. But everyone was too perplexed about what had just transpired between the couple to focus properly.

Miranda and Kentia most of all.

"That can't be him."

"That isn't."

"I mean, just look at him."

"And her!"

"They don't match."

"Not at all."

"And what did he mean when he said something about 'equality'?"

"And why is she supposed to wear green?"

They continued to watch as the couple stole glances at each other for the duration of the song. Once it was over, Draco cordially walked up towards their cousin and held out his hand expectantly. Hermione kissed Henry on his cheek then sent him on his way.

"Won't you at least ask me to dance?" Hermione asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"This is me asking." He shoved his hand closer to her.

"Not even a little nicer?" She shook her head but started to reach for his hand, smiling.

"This is nice. I could just, you know, make youdance. This is practically princely of me."

"Just dance with me already."

He chuckled in her ear as they flitted around the dance floor.

And it wasn't remotely graceful.

"She keeps stepping on his feet."

"She's only done it about five times."

"Wait, she's getting better."

"Her hair is getting in his face."

"No, his face is lost in her hair."

"It looks kind of like they're fighting."

"So he can't possibly be her boyfriend."

"Right. I mean, he's smirking. She's scowling. She hates him."

"Right. She doesn't even want to dance with him."

"Look, the song's ending. I think I'll go ask him to dance—"

"Oh my god, he's kissing her. He's kissing her!"

"Right in front of everyone!"

"And she's kissing him back! Willingly!"

"No."

"Look. Look at Billy. I think he's crying."

"I think I'm crying."

"Just go ask him to dance, quick—"

But the Porter sisters never got their chance. Because Draco not only took her second and third dance, but pretty much every other dance of the night. And when they weren't dancing, they were sitting at a table talking about…well, they're not really sure. It seemed Draco was complaining about "muggles" and Hermione was telling him to keep him mouth shut or leave, but Draco did neither of those things.

And they had yet another dance before Miranda said the unthinkable.

"You know, I wouldn't mind talking to Hermione if, uh, you know…"

"What?"

"I just want to pet him. Just once."

"Don't be weird, Miranda."

"Shut up, Kentia."