Shortly after deciding to change Hera's surname from Granger to Malfoy, Hermione and Draco decided to make the change official with the Ministry's Registration Commission.
"Sorry, I thought you said you changed my name from Granger to Malfoy."
"We did." Draco stated, straightforwardly.
"Did Mum fully agree to this? Because I only trust her judgment."
"Of course. " Hermione answered.
Hera rolled her eyes stomped towards her bedroom. "Whatever."
Hermione took this to be a sign of consent from Hera. She may be still mad at her father for abandoning her, but she has told Hera stories of their courtship. She thought she might have remembered it as she consented almost immediately.
Hera might have grown up without a father, but her mother made sure she never missed out by telling her stories of how she met her father, and how the latter courted her till he won her heart.
It was a difficult task.
Hera stood by her reading corner, peering through the wide window overlooking the street where her parents now stood, talking and laughing. Her mother was checking if she had everything she needed in her bag, and then they hailed a cab that'll bring them to nearest disapparition point to the Ministry.
Hera remembered picturing her Dad as a dashing young man, who, when placed beside her Mum, looked utterly cold in contrast to her warm aura.
She remembers painting pictures in her mind as her Mum told her stories of how her Dad gave her heaps and stacks of ancient tomes and runes as a birthday present. He collected them from all over the world during his travels. Her Mum told her about how he took a portion of his inheritance to build himself a Potions shop against his father's will. He and her Mum would exchange letters, sometimes attached with photos of either one of them. Her Mum might have been upset with him for leaving her without warning, but she always spoke of him fondly. Her Mum spoke not of the boy who haunted her Hogwarts years for being a Muggleborn (although she did tell her stories about that mean boy), but of the man who gave her stacks of books instead of flowers, who cooked her meals because she was too busy with work to even remember to cook for herself, and the only one who can prove to be her equal in almost everything.
She stole one of her Dad's photos once, which she now keeps safely stashed inside her trunk. She used to show it to her friends back in Beauxbatons. They wouldn't believe he was indeed her father unless she shows them her blonde hair and icy grey eyes.
Hera remembers that one time her Mum cried while telling her the story of how he wanted their firstborn to be a girl. She was so happy to learn that the baby she carried inside her was indeed a girl, but she doesn't have the kid's father to share that joy with.
"He doesn't know about you now," her Mum used to say. "But when he does, I'm sure he'll fall in love with you like I did."
Hera smiled at the memory.
Meanwhile, Draco and Hermione had entered the Ministry and are headed toward the Registration Commission.
"Merlin, is that you, Malfoy?" Dean Thomas emerged from one of the elevators and ran up to the two.
"Thomas! Good to see you."
"I didn't know you were back from Siberia, mate."
"I received the go signal from the Minister when Potter had sent the Death Eaters to Azkaban. Hey thanks, mate. I haven't thanked you enough for your help. Do tell the others I send my thanks."
Dean made a show of eyeing Draco suspiciously before turning to Hermione and back to him, answering, "No problem. What's your business here, by the way? Why are you together?"
"We're here to change Hera's surname. His idea." Hermione said, nonchalantly.
"Oh! How is dear Hera? I haven't had the chance to see her during the ball." Dean said.
"Hang on, he knows about our daughter?" Draco looked aghast at the revelation.
Hermione smiled. "Dean knew her as a baby."
"Mind you, mate. It wasn't easy keeping her a secret from you when we were in Siberia. We had direct orders from Wood not to tell you anything for fear that the child's life might be put into peril."
Draco smiled thoughtfully, holding out a hand towards Dean. "Thanks again, mate."
After filling out the required paperwork for transaction, Hermione and Draco were sent to the office of the Head of Registration Commission, where they were supposed to finalize the changes they wished to make. The Head of the Registration Commission did not seem to mind that the couple in front of him is only now changing their child's record from 15 years ago. In fact, he didn't even lift his bald head when they arrived, only motioned for either of them to put the papers on top of his desk. "Hmm, so you want to change the child's name to Malfoy, am I correct?"
"Yes."
"How is this child related to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy?" The old man asked absently.
"She's their granddaughter."
As if being awakened from his slumber, the old man raised his eyes so they saw the two clearly. He was shocked to see Draco Malfoy, the son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy (who, despite their involvement with the Death Eaters and Lord Voldermort, were still respected in the wizarding community), standing before him, and with Hermione Granger, one of the rumored candidates for the position of Minister of Magic, the brightest witch of her generation.
"My, what an uncanny pair, you are." He said, as he signed the stack of papers in front of him.
That afternoon, Hermione and Draco went home to find Hera dangling her feet by the railings of the balcony outside her room, reading a book, which is levitating inches away from her eyes.
"Come on down, Hera. Your Dad brought home some snacks."
"Be right there!"
The young witch emerged into the kitchen with the book still levitating in front of her.
"What are you reading?" Draco asks.
"Ancient Runes."
"But you're still in your fourth year. Shouldn't you be reading the required textbooks this year?"
"I've read them for like a hundred times already." Hera replied, snatching the book and laying it gently on the kitchen table.
As her eyes met her father's, she changed her hair color to match his and also her eye color, so it's the similar pair of cold grey circles. What was once brown and bushy became wavy and blonde.
Draco was enthralled by this transformation.
Hermione saw this and quietly watched as Draco took it all in. Glancing at Hera, she said, "Freckles, honey."
The young witch made it so her face is now traced with less freckles than there usually is. Not that she looked better without them or anything; it's just that she only inherited a small number of freckles and her Mum wanted it to show. With her features now changed to the original, Draco saw that Hera was the perfect mixture of him and Hermione.
Today was the longest Hera had maintained her natural features. Hermione was expecting it to go away by the next day, but she was wrong. The next day came and the next, and the next, but Hera did not change her features even once.
"So, are you going to go back to school looking like this or is this like a phase?" Hermione asked one time.
"I don't know, what do you think?"
"I think you look pretty either way."
"No one at school knows what I really look like. I could pretend to be another transfer student."
"Get your Mum's robes, and pretend to be Gryffindor for a day." Draco suggested.
"Don't." Hermione said.
"Oh but Mum, that could be fun!"
"No. Professor McGonagall won't go easy on anyone who thinks it's funny to switch houses for fun."
After chastising both Hera and Draco, Hermione smiled to herself. Mischief. Of course.
"You know, she still hasn't called me Dad." Draco said one early morning, as he served Hermione her cup of tea.
"She will, eventually."
"I wish it happens sooner." Draco sighed.
Hermione laughed. "You know, her duels in Beauxbatons were kept secret from me for the longest time."
"How did you learn about it?"
"She's nearly lost a kid his arm. Another one of her spells. Apparently, she had just concocted it in a panic and she didn't know how to undo it. The professors didn't know what to do either so they called the Headmistress. Madame Maxime was livid."
"So she's a troublemaker after all."
"Very much so."
Draco laughed. "I think we'll get along pretty well."
"You just have to wait."
Hermione knew it was only a matter of time before Draco suggests they travel to the Malfoy manor so he can introduce his daughter to his parents. She hated the idea, but went with it anyway for Hera's sake. Only,
"I'm not coming with you." Hermione said.
"What?" Hera looked disappointed.
"But Hera won't be at ease without you." Draco said.
"She'll be fine." She turned to her daughter. "You'll be fine. There's not much to it. You'll be meeting your father's parents is all."
Hera was about to retort but her father rested a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she remembered. Bellatrix Lestrange tortured her Mum in the Malfoy manor.
"Alright."
"Take care of her now." Hermione told Draco.
And so father and daughter left for the Malfoy manor through the Floo Network, arriving in the vast fireplace facing the grand living room.
"This is where I grew up, Hera."
"This is where your Aunt Bellatrix tortured Mum."
"That, too."
Hera glanced at the chandelier hovering above them and noticed the stairs leading to the equally grand second floor.
"Where's your bedroom?"
"Up there." Draco pointed at the centermost door at the second floor. "But I haven't been there in a long time."
Draco made to sit at the couch by the fireplace, as Hera walked around inspecting the books lined up in the bookshelves behind the stairs.
"These are your old textbooks." She observed.
"That's right."
"They're all battered. I guess you must have read them thoroughly. Mum said your marks rivaled hers."
"That is true." Draco grinned.
"Strange. I half-expected to see books on Dark Magic in the Malfoy manor. I can't see any."
Draco laughed. Just then, they heard footsteps emerging from the rooms upstairs.
Hera heard a soft gasp.
"Draco!" Narcissa exclaimed. "Lucius, Draco's come home!"
"Hello, Mum." Draco kissed his mother on the cheek.
"I'm glad you've come back. Oh, how worried we were!" She said, grasping her son by the arms. She noticed Hera walking towards them. "And who is this?"
Hera did not speak, instead she straightened her back and looked at the old witch in the eye. The intensity of her stare amazed Narcissa, and almost immediately she understood.
Lucius, on the other hand, took his time descending the stairs, observing what had just taken place.
"Draco, who is this little girl?"
Hera sneered at the mention of the word "little".
"Mother, Father, I'd like you to meet your granddaughter."
The elders stared at Hera as if they'd seen a ghost.
"Hello, Grandmother, Grandfather." Hera smiled sweetly, stepping forward so her arm grazed her father's robes.
"A granddaughter?" Lucius repeated. "And all grown up?" He eyed his son knowingly. "And what might your name be, child?"
"Heléna Granger."
"Malfoy." Corrected Draco.
"A Granger Spawn?" Lucius eyed Hera as if he'd seen an abomination.
"Beautiful. Just beautiful." Narcissa reached out for Hera's hand and touched it lovingly. "She takes after you, Draco."
"She does. A little bit."
Lucius stood a few feet away from everyone, not speaking.
"Would you care for some tea, dear?" Narcissa asks Hera.
"That would be lovely."
"How come we haven't heard of you before?"
Draco then set out to recount the story as to why he didn't know about Hera until recently.
"My, your wife must be so lucky to have such trustworthy people around. Not many can stick for their friends these days."
Hera cleared her throat at the mention of the word "wife". "They're not married."
"They're not married, Grandmother. You'll do well to learn to give your father's mother the respect she's due, young one." Narcissa waved her finger in the air, as if to lecture her granddaughter. "As for you, Draco. I don't remember raising a child who would one day produce his own child out of wedlock! Your great-grandmother would have never approved."
"My great-grandmother would have yelled her head off if she learned I were to marry a Muggleborn. I'm planning on asking her, but the timing is not right." Draco answered.
"Your daughter has practically grown up. What are you still waiting for?"
Draco could not answer.
Seeing as her son did not have anything to say, Narcissa turned to Hera. "How old are you, dear?"
"Fifteen… Grandma."
"Fifteen! And you're almost as tall as your father. I've met your mother on several uneventful occasions, and I'm not sure if she even likes me because you know, Bella nearly killed her. You do know your Grandma Bella? Bellatrix Lestrange?"
"Yes. Grandma Molly beat her in their duel during the War. That's why she's not around anymore."
Draco laughed nervously. He liked her daughter's blunt nature but he's not quite sure his mother would like it as well.
"You do know her. Very well, then."
"I see your mother hasn't taught you decorum, youngling." Lucius said, finally emerging from his dark hole.
"Father."
"It's alright, dear." Narcissa intervened. "I understand where her hostility is coming from. You can't blame her."
Draco cleared his throat, seeing the opportunity. "Mum, Dad, we'll get going now. We have to pick up Hera's things from Diagon Alley. We'll see you soon."
"I hope next time I see you Draco, you'll be getting married to that child's mother."
"Hermione, Mum. Her name's Hermione." Draco rummaged through his bag and got out a leather-bound book, which Hera recognized as her photo album. The name engraved on the spine was altered as well, she observed. What was once Granger now read "Granger-Malfoy".
"Just in case you wanted to see what she was like as a baby."
Narcissa accepted the book and tucked it under her arm. "How thoughtful of you."
"Are we really going to Diagon Alley?"
"Well, it was just so I could get you away from there, but do you want to?"
"I guess I need a new cauldron."
"How about a new broom?"
"Um… I have a Lightning Bolt."
"A Lightning Bolt! Your Mum let you have a Lightning Bolt?"
"Why do you sound so surprised?"
Draco laughed. Once again, Hera pictured nymphs gliding over a meadow, singing, dancing and being merry.
"Nothing. It's just that your Mum isn't fond of flying is all. She thinks it's dangerous. But now, look at you! That's a nice broom you've got."
"Actually, it wasn't in the photo album, but Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry sent me a broom for my first birthday and Mum didn't have a photo of me on it because she was so caught up in making sure I don't fall off and die, although it didn't rise higher than three feet. She said she couldn't take me off it for a long time."
Her father laughed even louder. "She must have had a hard time."
"I guess you could say that. But Aunt Ginny already gave her tips. It has become tradition, you see. Albus had his first broom when he was one, so did Daisy, and me."
"Albus? Potter's kid?"
"Yes."
"And Daisy?"
"Uncle Ron's daughter."
"Are they both on their houses' Quidditch team?"
"Just Daisy. Albus doesn't really like Quidditch. But I reckon he's a good flyer, from what Aunt Ginny told Mum in her letters."
Just like that, Hera bonded with her father throughout the day. Together, they bought her cauldron, a new set of quills and inkbottles, and sweets.
"We should play Quidditch sometime, Dad."
Slightly taken aback by his daughter finally calling her "Dad", it took a few seconds before Draco gathered his thoughts and answered. "Sure."