A/N: Hey loves, sorry I just dropped off the face of the planet there for a bit, but we had a family emergency we needed to fly back for, but I'm home again. Anyways, thank you to those of you who came back! I promise I will get back on to my regular schedule next week! Until then, here is chapter 26!

Chapter 26

Hermione's work life had slowed down considerably now with the capture and further jailing of Jugson, which allowed Draco to court her as he saw fit. Hermione had a way of letting her work like consume her, which Draco found admirable, but also inconvenient. The arrest also meant that Draco no longer had a security detail to consider and he could go through his transformations without an audience, that most of all he appreciated.

"I'm still not sure this is a great idea," Draco grimaced as he adjusted his jumper again. He chose to wear a deep blue jumper with a white pinstripe button up under it. Hermione said this was a very casual muggle look and would warm her parents to him.

Hermione laughed at his clear discomfort. "Draco, don't be so worried, they'll like you." She pulled her hair up into a ponytail. "After all I like you, so you can't be that bad."

Draco glared at her, meeting parents was a normal thing among pureblood families. In fact, it was expected that you must ask for permission from a girl's parents before you could begin courting her. Parents weren't Draco's issue, but the fact that once upon a time he would have been expected to kill them for being lesser was the part that bothered him. How could he to look them in the eye with the amount of shame he felt? "It's not them," Draco mumbled to himself.

Hermione slipped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his back. "You're not that person anymore, Draco, you have to forgive yourself."

Draco lolled his head back, forgiving himself was a hard concept, forgiveness period felt foreign. "I don't know how." He hoped she would have the right answer, that the next thing she would say would enlighten his soul, but he knew it wouldn't be that easy.

Hermione hugged him a little harder. "You'll figure it out."

Draco smirked to himself. "Thank you for the sage advice."

Hermione took his wrist and dragged him to the floo. "Come on, we don't want to be late. Nothing drives my parents more insane." Hermione pushed him in the floo and called an address and, before he knew it, he was looking in to a small sitting room with a lounge, two chairs, and the black box Hermione called a television. Draco ducked gracefully from the floo, and stepped in to the room, it had a homie feeling to it, pictures sat on the mantel to the fire place, a small Hermione grinning back at him. "You must be Draco," a man's voice came from behind him. Draco swallowed and turned to find Hermione's auburn eyes looking at him.

"Yes," Draco held out his hand to firmly shake the man's. "And you must be Mr. Granger."

"That I am." Mr. Granger gestured for Draco to sit. "Camellia will be in with tea shortly. Please, sit. And call me Jean."

Just then, Hermione's green ball of flame side tracked the conversation. "Hey, dad!" She grinned stepping out of the fireplace and wrapping him in a hug. "I see you've met Draco."

"Hey, 'Mione!" Jean embraced his daughter, and then let her go, gesturing her next to Draco.

"Yes, just now, so I don't know if I approve yet." He chuckled. Draco scoffed, he was not sure if he would ever gain his approval, but decided against the remark.

"Oh, Hermione!" A tall woman with Hermione's hair entered the room with a tray of tea which she placed on the coffee table and hugged Hermione. "How wonderful to see you." The woman looked over Draco. "And this must be Draco!" She shook Draco's hand too, but leaned to Hermione. "You failed to mention how good looking he is, darling. I mean, I always liked Ron, but he puts Ron to shame."

"Mother!" Hermione practically screeched. "First off, his attractiveness is irrelevant, and second, you're not suppose to compare him to my ex!"

Draco chuckled to himself. He was not perturbed by the comparison, he was quite used to older women sizing him up for their daughters. "I have no issue with being compared to Ron. It is a bit unfair, but Malfoy's don't like to play fair either." He grinned.

"Draco!" Hermione jaw hit the floor. "I thought you wanted to make a good impression with my parents."

"Well, he's not wrong," Camellia commented under her breath.

"Mother! I'll have you know that I'm still very good friends with Ron!" Hermione turned on her mother.

"I know, dear, friends is fine, and I'm sure he would have been a good husband, but, darling," Camellia sighed, "we knew."

Hermione's eye nearly popped out of her head. "Then why did you give us your blessing?!"

Draco felt the conversation intensifying. He slowly sat down and poured himself a cup of tea as Jean sank down into the chair next to him, nodded for a cup too, and Draco obliged. Apparently it was normal to let the women battle it out.

"What were we supposed to say no, then not be invited to our only child's wedding and not get to meet our grandchildren?" Camellia huffed.

"Mother, have more faith in me. We wouldn't have just thrown you out of our lives! That's utterly ridiculous!" Hermione retorted.

Camellia crossed her arms and gave Hermione an oh, really? look, which Draco suspected meant more to Hermione because he had never seen her conceded so quickly before.

"So, Draco, tell me what you do for a living," Jean piped up in the awkward silence that fell over the room.

Draco rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I don't actually work right now." Draco paused. "I imagine that soon I'll be taking over my father's business, but that is a very vague position." Draco looked at Jean who was waiting for him to explain. "Well, my father ran some sort of business that works in both private and government sector. I remember he used to take me to the ministry a lot as a child, but it seemed like he just walked around and asserted his influence on people of importance. Then he would go home and spend hours in his study writing letters. I was supposed to take over for him when came I of age, but Voldemort came to power, the war happened and then he was thrown in Azkaban."

"Your father was on the bad side?" Camellia was now looking very concerned.

Draco's eyes flicked to Hermione, he had assumed that she had told them of his past. "Uh, yes. I come from a long line of purebloods, and my father was one of Voldemort's first followers."

"Hermione!" Camellia snapped. "That would have been nice information to have!"

Hermione flinched, clearly she did not like to be reprimanded by her parents. "I just wanted you guys to give him a fair chance, mom."

"Camellia, maybe the boy had no choice." Jean had been watching Draco carefully.

"Oh, that's hogwash, Jean, everyone has a choice," Camellia scolded.

Jean tilted his head to the side, a questioning Camellia's statement, this seemed to be another silent conversation of its own. Draco sighed. "I did have a choice." He paused. "And I made the wrong one out of fear. I was afraid of losing everything that I had," he explained softly. "I didn't have the bravery to stand up for what was right," Draco looked at Hermione longingly, "something that both thrills and terrifies me about your daughter."

Hermione felt her cheeks light on fire. Draco was not normally soft, he could be very hard, cold, foreboding, and yet when he was with her something ignited between them, somehow she brought a spark of warmth into his life.

Camellia watched the two of them carefully. "Well, dinner should be ready any minute now." And with that, she lead them to the dining room.

Draco sat down at the table beside Hermione, who sat to her father's right. Before him on the table there was a fresh salad, some biscuits and a bowl of sauteed green beans. A few minutes later, Camellia entered the room again with a large dish of Lasagna. She placed it on the table and sat to her husbands left. "Hope you don't mind Lasagna," Camilla commented.

Draco smiled. "One of me best mates is Italian, and whenever I went to his house as a kid we had Italian, his mother made sure her cooking elf was born in Italy and everything." He realized as he looked up probably a unwise thing to say in current company.

"I believe Hermione told me about the enslavement of creatures in your world, it's simply tragic if you ask me." Camilla sighed as she began to server dinner for everyone.

Draco sighed. "It's not our most shining of accomplishments, I admit, but if I recall wizards are hardly the first to enslave and, granted, it has taken us far longer to realize our mistake, but I believe your daughter is in the process of changing life for house elves."

Camilla was just about to retort when Jean cut her off. "Speaking of work, Hermione, how are things?"

Hermione chimed in quickly, keen to divert the conversation. "Well, father, it's been quite rough actually. People have been quite upset with the Minister as of late. You see, a few months back, there was an escape from Azkaban, and now that the werewolf murderer has been caught, the papers are jumping on the escapees and how they haven't been captured yet. And, to make matters worse, reporters have been stalking Harry trying to get any information from him, then turning around and criticizing him in the Prophet for taking a day off to take James to Diagon alley."

Draco nodded. He'd seen the nasty articles bashing Harry for not being at work 24/7 trying to find the loose death eaters. "It's pretty nasty, if you ask me," Draco added. "Reporters are acting like he shouldn't have a life until they're caught."

Hermione agreed. "It's putting Harry under so much stress."

"I'm so sorry to hear that," Camellia sighed. "We've always liked Harry very much." Camellia looked back at Draco, almost like she was sizing him up. Draco didn't flinch, he knew this was going to be a tense dinner, and having to tell Hermione's parents has not made it any easier.

Hermione brought the attention back to her. "Yes, well, we know Harry is tough, though. I'm sure he'll capture them soon and all of this will be behind us."

Jean managed to keep the rest of the conversation relatively light throughout most of the night, much to Draco's relief. It seemed Camellia had warmed up to Draco slightly, though considering where the conversation had been, she seemed to only slightly thawed.

Draco undid the button on his shirt as Hermione pulled off the dress that she had worn that night. "For a moment there, I thought your mom was going to throw me out of the house," he scoffed.

Hermione chuckled. "I did too, but you pulled through in the end."

"Why didn't she?" Draco turned around to find Hermione pulling on an oversized t-shirt on the other side of his suite.

Hermione paused for a moment. "Mom is very big on honesty, it's where I get it from. You were honest and open about you mistake and flaws, my mother respects that." Hermione padded across the room and wrapped her arms around Draco. "Thank you, I know meeting parents can be daunting, but you did very well."

"You can thank the pureblood training for that," Draco hummed softly.

Hermione kissed him lightly. "Well, let's hope the Weasley brunch goes as well."

Draco grasped Hermione's wrist as she turned away from him. "I'm sorry, what?"

Hermione bit her lip and turned her head to look at Draco. "The Weasley brunch?"

Draco gave her a stern look. "You said parents, not Weasley's."

"Draco, they basically are my parents, they..." She trailed off. "They were my parents for almost two years." Draco's brows furrowed, and Hermione sighed deeply. "Just before our seventh year, I oblivatied myself from my parents minds to protect them from the war."

Draco's jaw clenched. "Is that what your mom was referencing earlier tonight?"

Hermione nodded. "I didn't find them until after we graduated, and by then I had a steady boyfriend, finished school and a budding career. They were pretty upset that they missed so much, and that I made the decision for them." She traced his collarbone with the tips of her fingers.

Draco wrapped his arms tightly around her, once again finding himself the cause of her pain. "I'm sorry, that must have been unbelievably hard."

Hermione nodded. "But the Weasley's took me in like their own, which is why it's important to me that you get to know them. They were there for me when I had no one else in the world and they still treat me like family."

Draco sighed, there was not an ounce of him that wanted to see the Weasley's. He was sure that they would still see him as the stuck up little boy who was a Death Eater. "Okay," he muttered. It was important to Hermione so he at least owed her a chance. "But I maintain the right to defend myself."

"No magic," Hermione countered. The last thing she wanted was a duel in the kitchen.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine, no magic." Hermione beamed up at Draco and a sinking feeling grew in his stomach.