A Weekend at the Grangers

Chapter 1: Suggestion

Hermione insists it's time for the Malfoys to meet her parents. After all, it's only fair, right?

"Hey, Dad!"

Draco glanced up at the sound of his son Kevin's voice, and he grinned as the boy broke away from a group of giggling girls to come over and say hello. Draco tried to act 'cool' when he was at Hogwarts, simply because he knew how embarrassing his parents sometimes were, and they were just acting like themselves back then. He hated making his kids feel awkward.

"How come you're here?" Kevin inquired, rolling his eyes as Draco reached out and tightened his tie a bit. All right, so he embarrassed them a little, but they didn't need to look like trash while they were in their school uniforms.

"I'm here to take Hermione out for some lunch," he replied, his grey eyes darting back to the girls. "Got yourself a bit of a fanclub there, Kev?"

"They think I'm some big war hero," his boy stated, scratching the back of his neck anxiously, as though that bothered him more than he was willing to admit. "I think one of them wants to ask me out, but I don't know which one yet."

Draco leaned around Kevin, his hands in his pants' pockets and did a quick study of the girls before muttering, "The redhead is pretty."

"Yeah... I guess."

Draco frowned suddenly, "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"It's lunch time," Kevin fired back. "Class starts in another half hour."

"Right. Well, I'm going to go find Hermione... She's in the library, right?"

"Last I saw of her, yes."

"Okay... Back to your girls then," Draco chuckled, shooting him a wink before wandering off in the general direction of the library. Students didn't really pay him much mind. There were many attending school from the prison, so the ones he knew smiled at him, but he had a feeling no one really wanted to be seen socializing with an adult during school. Not when they had all of their friends around them, anyway.

It was always so nice to be back at Hogwarts. The atmosphere was pleasant nowadays, and there wasn't an overly large population of just males, much to his daughter's delight. With Voldemort gone and dead, everything was shaping up. At Hogwarts, it was easy to see the improvements. The paintings were back up in the halls, the students were loud in the hallways, and there was more of a variety within the teenage population. Though he hated to admit it, Draco was proud that the other four houses had filled up considerably, and were no doubt giving his old Slytherin house a run for its money in events. That's what school should have been about, anyway.

"Hello, Malfoy."

Draco was pulled away from his thoughts as Neville Longbottom made his way down the hall toward him, a rather ugly looking plant in his hands. Draco grinned at his old enemy, "Longbottom... Need any help with that?"

The pot seemed extremely heavy, yet somehow old dumpy Neville Longbottom was strutting along with it, obviously proud of the hideous thing. The dark haired man smiled, "No... Just taking this one up to the Hospital Wing. She'll be good for Sleeping Draughts. Here to see Hermione?"

"Yeah, actually..."

It was nice to see that Longbottom didn't hold a grudge. Draco remembered that he basically tortured the man during their school years, and it was great that they could now laugh about it. Most of the time, anyway. There still some areas in which Neville was a little touchy about.

"Right, well, she's up in the library," the man informed him as he passed with the plant. "Tell her thanks for the Herbology texts... They turned out great."

"Will do."

Draco wrinkled his nose at the stench of the plant now that it was up close, but he didn't have to suffer through it for long, seeing as Neville was already marching along past him, clearly not one for lengthy discussions about how everyone was doing. Good - Draco got really bored during those conversations, simply because he didn't care about other peoples' families; he only focused on his own.

The library doors were wide open upon his arrival, and he could see the rare sunlight shining in through the massive windows behind the rows upon rows of bookshelves. Everything seemed a lot cleaner than he remembered, but both Hermione and the old librarian had similar views on how books should be dealt with. Several times he had heard stories about Hermione shouting at a student for manhandling one of her darling books from Shane, and Draco couldn't help but laugh.

He noticed the check out desk was empty as he entered, which meant Hermione was hidden away somewhere amongst the books. Damn; she was always a lot harder to find when she was away from her desk. As a group of first years entered behind him, their voices lowering considerably once they were over the threshold, Draco spotted something that was quite amusing.

Ronald Weasley was currently lounging lazily over a plush green chair, his feet dangling over an armrest as he stared at a book. For a moment, he frowned, and then turned the book sideways, a sudden look of understanding crossing his facial features.

Snorting to himself, Draco casually sauntered over to the redhead, "Ron Weasley? In the library? But it's not raining outside..."

Ron flinched upon being spoken to, and Draco smirked as the redhead's surprised look turned into a scowl, "Oh ha ha, Malfoy... I'll have you know I read a lot."

"'Course you do," Draco chuckled, reading the title out loud. "Muggle Art of the Twentieth Century. ... Well, that's certainly fascinating, Weasley."

Ron snapped the book closed, his cheeks a little red, and he sat up properly, "What're you doing here, Malfoy? I thought you worked at the Ministry."

"I do," Draco mused, shrugging his shoulders. "However, I am taking Hermione out for something to eat."

"Oh. Well then..."

"Is she around?"

"Helping some little third year find a good book on Transfigurations, or something," Ron answered, running a hand through his shaggy red hair. "She'll be back in a few minutes."

Draco nodded, and then took up residence in the seat beside Ron, smoothing out the front of his dark green cloak with a pair of gloved hands. Annie had commented that he looked quite a bit like his father when she saw him getting ready to leave. He guessed that was true, but he didn't carry around that silly little cane, so at least there were some differences.

"So..." Ron sighed, as though he thought that he needed to fill in the silence with pointless conversation, "How are you and Hermione doing?"

"Good," Draco responded, a little shocked that that was the question that had come out of his mouth, "really good. I... Well, I plan on making it a little more serious pretty soon."

"Yeah?" Ron mumbled, flicking through the pages of his book absently, "How you doing that?"

"Well," Draco felt a giddy smile come to his lips, the same one that came every single time he thought about this, "I think I'm going to ask her to marry me soon."

He heard Ron rip the top of a page upon turning it a little too harshly, and he glanced over at the Weasley, who was staring at him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, "What?"

"It's a little soon, isn't it, Malfoy?" Ron stammered, shutting the book completely and tossing it on a nearby table, "I mean... Didn't you two only just start dating?"

"No," Draco replied, his frivolous smile fading a hint. "It's been almost three months... No, four."

"See, you don't even know how long you've been dating!" Ron argued, angling his body on the large chair to face Draco, "I'm not trying to talk you out of anything, but I don't know if Hermione is ready for that yet."

Draco shot him a small glare. He wished the redhead would butt out, seeing as he had a chance to marry Hermione, yet he chose Luna Lovegood instead. Honestly, who makes that sort of choice? Ron's mistake was waiting for too long. Draco wasn't like that, and if he wanted something, he got it right then and now. Besides, they didn't need to have the actual wedding in a week from that day, but if Hermione had a ring on her finger, for some reason Draco felt as though he would have a large boost of confidence on their relationship.

Not that they had a rocky relationship, but there was always a chance that Hermione could have just saw this as "dating", when he really wanted her to see it as the start of a lifetime commitment.

"Oh, look, it's my two favourite boys," Hermione cooed as she stepped out of a bookshelf, several large books in her hands.

Draco was on his feet instantly, ignoring Ron's last comment and going over to lighten her load, "Hello, love."

She leaned up to meet his lips in a quite kiss, though he wanted nothing more than to push her up against the bookshelves and have his way with her. They hadn't really... done much lately. Apparently Hermione was too tired at the end of a full day of work, and now that Draco was tending to four kids on his own with only one house elf (His old one, Dobby, had agreed to come back to work for pay. Draco figured Harry's insistence had a lot to do with it.), he was also quite exhausted at the end of the day. They needed some... romantic weekend away, where all they had to do was stay in a room and shag.

Draco grinned at the thought, and figured he could bring it up during lunch.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you, or anything," Hermione mused as he carried the books over to her desk, "but what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to whisk you off to Hogsmeade for some lunch," he informed her, cutting off all forms of arguments with another kiss. "Ah ah ah, no arguing. It's past noon, and neither of us have eaten... It won't kill you to leave for an hour."

"But-"

"Ron's here," he laughed, cocking his head toward the man. "He can help students if they need anything."

"What?"

"Oh, would you, Ron?" Hermione implored, her eyes basically lighting up, "I won't be gone long... Just tell them I'm out, and all you have to do is make sure no one breaks anything."

"But... I... Fine," Ron grumbled, picking up his art book and opening it moodily. "But you owe me, 'Mione."

"Fine," she sighed, rolling her eyes at Draco as she grabbed her cloak from the back of her chair. "See you later."

Ron grunted a farewell, but kept his eyes on the book. Draco smirked triumphantly, and then wrapped his arm around Hermione's hips, dragging her up close to him and doing a Joint Apparition to take them away, off to the village near the school.

He hated doing that, but he just wanted to grab her and get her out of there. They arrived in an empty strip of land, no more than a few feet wide, between two shops, and as Hermione gathered herself together, Draco leaned her back against the wall of the shop, claiming her lips for his, just for another couple of minutes. She released a loud giggle, and then threw her arms around his neck, letting out a sigh of contentment as she kissed him back with the same amount of vigour. Draco knew his girlfriend was shy about public displays of affection, so he chose a secluded spot to land in, seeing as he definitely wanted more than just a peck on the lips for a greeting.

She tasted like tea, and smelled like vanilla, quite possibly his new favourite mix. His hands rested firmly on her hips, and as gently as he could, he slipped one inside her brown cloak, and then up her shirt. Hermione squealed a bit, and then broke the kiss, "Draco! Control yourself! What if a student saw me doing this?"

He rolled his eyes, and then gave her another quick kiss on the lips, removing his hand from under her shirt and helping her straighten herself out. Once that was finished, they clasped hands and headed out of the little alley, into the main section of Hogsmeade. There were students everywhere, seeing as Harry had now given anyone in fourth year an above free reign to wander the village whenever they saw fit. According to Eloise, Headmaster Potter thought students were less likely to sneak out if they were allowed to go anytime they wished. Smart man, that Potter.

The snow that had fallen the night before was melting already, which made the ground slushy and wet. Not that Draco really minded; he was out with Hermione, and that made him the happiest bloke in the world. His father said he was lovesick, but he didn't care.

"Oh, look!" Hermione said suddenly pointing out Harry with her free hand, "There's Harry!"

Potter's green eyes flickered over toward the two, and Draco smiled a little as he marched over, stepping around a group of students, "Afternoon, you two... Out for something to eat?"

"I had to drag her out, but yes," Draco answered, pulling her back into him affectionately. His girlfriend shot him a playfully annoyed look, and then turned her attention back to her best friend, "What are you doing out here? Lunch, too?"

Merlin, he hoped Hermione didn't ask Harry to come join them. Potter seemed to catch his worried eye, and he laughed, "No... I'm meeting with a new teacher. Interviewing her, more like it. She's up for the Divination job. I figured a friendly, public environment would be better than her coming up to the school."

"Brilliant, Harry," Hermione beamed. "Good luck with her... Let's hope she's not a phoney."

Draco knew she was talking about Trelawney, and both men let out deep chuckles at Hermione's obvious dislike for the woman. No one quite knew where she was now, but the last time Draco had heard of the crazy lady was that Voldemort had taken her, and that was that.

They bid Potter goodbye, and then started off toward a homey little pub near the opposite end of the village, off to enjoy their lunch in peace.

Harry scratched at the back of his neck anxiously, glancing at the clock near the rear of The Three Broomsticks. They had fixed up the pub a bit since Harry became Headmaster, though there was still a lot to do, and he had only been in the powerful position for a month or so. Well, coming up on two, but who keeps track of these things anymore?

This woman was supposed to be good, though Harry was a little sceptical, because according to her resume, she was extremely young. But compared to his old Divination professor, most people seemed young. She was in her late twenties, and had taught at a private boarding school in Wales, one strictly for young witches. They only took the best, according to their boasting reputation, and Harry hoped he wouldn't be meeting some stuck up cow.

He had her resume before him, and he was reading it once more while waiting for her to show up, his glass of water sitting beside his left hand as his eyes ran over the writing. She had been teaching for six years, and went directly into that field after she graduated from Beauxbatons. Apparently she moved to England around the same time, and perfected her English in the process. She is now fluent in French, Gaelic and English, and an acclaimed Divination expert, though she does not state anywhere that she has Seers in her family.

"Harry Potter?"

Harry glanced up after jumping a little, clearly shocked to be disturbed from his thoughts so abruptly. His eyes then landed on one of the most gorgeous women he had ever seen. She had lovely blonde hair, trailing down her back neatly in wavy locks. Her skin seemed absolutely flawless, with no hints of a blemish or freckle in sight. The most startling feature, he thought, were her crystal clear blue eyes.

"Ms. Harries," Harry greeted, standing up quickly and hoping he hadn't appeared to be staring at her for too long. "Welcome to Hogsmeade... I hope you found the pub easily enough."

"Well, it was a little difficult, but my cousin Fleur gave me a few nice pointers... and call me Ophelie, please," she replied, accepting his hand and shaking it firmly.

Harry froze, "Fleur? As in... Fleur Weasley?"

"Yes," she chuckled, nodding her head a few times, "Fleur told me to mention her to you... Do you know each other?"

"She's married to my best friend's older brother," Harry informed her, grinning broadly. "But... Uh, take a seat."

No wonder she was such a sight to look at; the woman was part Veela. Well, should he take her, he had a feeling there would be an influx of male students signing on to take Divination.

"Well, let's get started on this, shall we?" Harry suggested, flagging a waiter down, "Order whatever you like; it's on me."

"But of course," she mused, "I'll have a water, thanks."

Hmm. Well, at least he wouldn't have to fork out a large chunk of change in order to keep her happy. Smiling a little, Harry folded his hands together and set them neatly on the table, "All right, mind if I start with a few questions?"

"Not at all..." she laughed, looking like a woman who knew she was beautiful, "That's what I'm here for, isn't it?"

"Right," Harry chuckled, "Uh, first question is I need to know how you stand with the new Ministry. Were you someone who agreed with Voldemort and his ways?"

"Well, no, I suppose not," Ophelie replied, smiling at the waiter as he set her drink down. The young man grinned back bashfully, but scuttled off after Harry shot him an annoyed look. "I never grew up with Voldemort, you know, living in France. We heard of him, but I think it was more of an English issue. Once girls were sent out of Hogwarts, we took them in while in Wales... But most of the time we were out of the way."

"Ah..."

She hadn't really answered his question, and she must have gotten a hint of that, because she went on, "But no, I would never say I aligned myself with him, nor did I believe in what he and his followers preached."

"Good," Harry muttered, making a little note on his piece of parchment. "Next, what is your take on children?"

"That's a very open ended question, Mr. Potter," she said, recrossing her legs under the table and pulling off a piece of lint from her silk blue shirt. "I deal with them as individuals, not as a group. They need certain needs met, but I have no problem on being tough on the ones that are acting up in class. I may be young, but I know how to control children, especially rowdy ones. I'm open to all ages, and I know how to talk to children."

Harry nodded several times during that little speech, "Good. Now, many of our students suffered heavily under Voldemort's reign... Whether it happened to them personally, their friends, or their family, at least one in five have been hurt."

"I understand."

"That being said, we need to employ teachers who are willing to work overtime to help them with their emotional problems," Harry continued. "Is that something that would bother you?"

A lot of his students had signs of traumatic stress due to the war. It was a little difficult to handle sometimes, but he had to be patient with them. Everyone had some sign of trauma, and it was all very personal, unique with each individual. There were many evenings in which Harry sat for hours in his office, just listening to the problems students had back at home now that everything had blown over, and that it was difficult to adjust. He had one first year boy who came to see him at least twice a day to talk about how his mother had been killed. It was heart wrenching sometimes, but it wasn't as though Harry could turn them away.

"My door is always open," she said simply, her blue eyes staring across into his green ones. "Anything else?"

"Er, yes," Harry muttered, feeling a little self-conscious around such a beautiful woman. "Please tell me about how you got into the field of Divination."

"It was always my favourite subject in school," Ophelie explained, a hint of her French accent there as she spoke, but just barely, "I adored everything about it, and knew that it was the only thing meant for me. I am not a natural Seer, nor do we have any in our family. However, I am confident in other methods... Hydromancy, pyromancy, Tarot cards, tea leaves, mirrors... I've studied all known aspects of the craft most of my life."

"But you're so young," Harry countered, once again pondering how much credibility could be in her twenty-something years of magic.

Ophelie laughed, a nice clear sound that echoed in his years, "Nonsense... Age is but a number. I could give you a reading, if you'd like Mr. Potter."

"Call me Harry," Harry replied absently, "and that won't be necessary. Though it would be smarter for me to test you, we are in dire need of a Divination professor, and you're the only one that has applied."

"So I've got the job then?" she inquired, a knowing sense in her voice.

Harry let out a sigh, and then nodded, "Yes. I'll need to reread your letter of recommendation, but you are free to move into Hogwarts whenever you'd like. Though, contact me before you show up, and I'll make sure we haven't given away a room that's close to the Divination classroom."

"Wonderful."

"And I will be having someone in to monitor your classes for the first little while, simply because we did not go through a proper demonstration process here," Harry finished, rising from his chair with her and shaking her hand once more. "Aside from that, let me be the first to welcome you to the Hogwarts staff."

"Thank you, Harry," Ophelie murmured, picking up her silvery cloak from the back of her chair and swinging it around her shoulders. "I need to return to my home and set my affairs in order, though I will be in touch soon."

Harry nodded, and stuffed his hands in his pocket, not looking like a headmaster at all, but rather just some bloke who was too young for such a big responsibility. But, before she could leave, he had to ask one more question, "Ophelie... Did you know you were going to get the job?"

She smiled brilliantly, and pulled on a set of white gloves, her eyes twinkling, "Yes, but not because I predicted it."

"How is your salad?" Draco inquired, shovelling in a spoonful of soup.

Hermione looked up from her plate, and then grinned at her boyfriend, "Wonderful. They honestly make the best salads here. How did you know I loved this place?"

The salads were not wimpy like most would expect; no, they were layered, large, and full of all different sorts of vegetables, and a bit of cooked chicken. Absolutely delicious.

"I know enough about you to get by, Hermione."

"Ginny told you, didn't she?"

There was a pause, and then a sigh, "Yes."

Hermione let out a giggle, and then rubbed Draco's leg with her own under the table, "Not to worry... I ask your mother about things you'd like."

"Really?"

"Yes," she admitted begrudgingly, "I don't know any of your old friends, and while Ginny knows a lot, your mother knows you the best."

Narcissa was a lot of help when it came time to buy anniversary presents for Draco, which had been a week ago. They had now officially been dating for four months, and Hermione couldn't have been happier. He was taking it slow, like she had asked, but she was pretty sure he was going to start pestering her soon about moving back into his house. It wasn't as though she didn't like living with him, and she loved the children, but Hermione still needed a bit of personal space from time to time.

"I've got something to ask you, Hermione," Draco said suddenly, twirling his large silver spoon around in his dark soup. Her hazel eyes darted up to his, and she cleared her throat, "Can I go first? I've been meaning to ask you this for a while now."

Draco seemed a little taken back, which she expected, but he shrugged his shoulders anyway, not giving off a hint that he may be nervous about what she had to say, "Go ahead, love."

"Right..." Hermione started, setting her fork down and dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin, "Well, my parents are still alive."

She waited for Draco's reaction, and he frowned, "Erhm... Were they ever dead?"

"No, but I wasn't as close to them as I was before the war," she pressed on. "Lately, we've been catching up... I've been stopping by for a lot of dinners, and mum and I have been shopping..."

"Well, that's brilliant, Hermione," he chuckled, placing a large hand on her arm and rubbing her skin with his thumb, "but is there a point to this?"

Her eyes narrowed at him, and he quickly fell silent, "Sorry, go on."

Hermione took a deep breath, and then swallowed thickly, a little nervous for his response, "Okay, here's the thing. Mum and dad thought it would be nice if you and your parents could come up for the weekend. There's this celebration in my old hometown, and there's tons of festivals and such... They'd really like to meet you."

Draco sat very still for a long time, and then took a sip of his water, "They want my parents to come up, too?"

"Well... Yes."

"Ah," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck, "and they're Muggles."

"Yes, Draco," Hermione snapped, hearing her own frustration strongly. "Look, if you can't handle the fact that my parents are Muggles, then we're going to have to reconsider-"

"Hermione," he crooned, gathering her hands up in his and bringing them to his lips, planting a small kiss on each one, "I don't have any issues that your parents are Muggles. However, my parents are a bit... old fashioned."

She felt bad that she had gotten so upset over nothing, but she had been worrying about this for quite some time now. Actually, for a two weeks, the time her parents had asked her to invite the Malfoys over to stay. They thought she was quite smitten with him, and wanted to meet the boy as soon as possible. Naturally, he came along with parents, and while Hermione tried to talk them out of it, they were insistent that they meet the elder Malfoys too.

"I know it's a lot to ask," Hermione said, exhaling deeply, "but please... It would mean a lot to them, and me, if you and your parents could come up. It's only for two days, and they really aren't that bad! We'd be out at the festivals, and then our parents can... er, bond?"

Draco let out a loud laugh, and then leaned across the table to give her a kiss, "I'll talk them into it. When would we be going?"

"This weekend, so we'd have to drop the children off at the Snapes?"

"Yes, I think that would be best. Shane won't like the idea that he's getting a sitter, but I'd feel safer with them with Uncle Severus and Ginny."

"Me, too."

Draco suddenly shot her this really strange smile, one that she couldn't quite place her finger on the meaning behind