Hermione bit her lip nervously as she made her way to Draco's study. She surveyed the contents of the letter in her hand anxiously as she climbed up the carpeted stairs on auto-pilot. After only three weeks of living in the Manor, it had already begun to feel slightly like home. At the very least she knew her way around it completely. She knocked briefly on the door and following Draco's grunt of assent, entered, looking worried.

"Oh, it's you. You don't have to knock if you don't want to," said Draco looking up from his papers. Hermione was momentarily taken aback at the gesture. Draco pushed his papers away and motioned to Hermione to take a seat in front of him. Without asking he summoned a Butterbeer and a Firewhiskey to his desk, and busied himself with pouring the drinks into glasses for the two of them. Hermione oddly liked his practice of pausing his work and having a drink with her whenever she came by his study. By now Draco automatically knew Hermione's preference in drinks. It was an odd sort of familiarity. She smiled unusually widely at him as he passed her an ornate goblet.

"I've been writing to my father," said Hermione, recalling the reason for her visit, as she sipped on her drink.

Draco nodded, "I wondered what those essays were that you seemed to love writing. I figured you would tell me sooner or letter. Should've realised they were letters."

"Well I'm really close to my father, I'd say about as close as you are to your mother," said Hermione rolling her eyes. "Those 'essays' are sometimes the only contact I have with him. He's a dentist, one of the best in his field actually, but he travels a lot to gain new knowledge about virtually painless drilling procedures and share his knowledge with other doctors. He's been away for the last five weeks attending and delivering seminars." she finished excitedly.

Draco hadn't the faintest clue what she meant by half the words she had said, but as if he was going to admit that to her.

"You didn't really understand what I said there, did you?" said Hermione slowly, recognising Draco's expression. He frequently had the same expression when trying to work the muggle child-proof doorknobs Hermione had insisted they install on the balcony doors. Despite the wards around the balcony's railings that prevented anyone from falling, Hermione didn't like the idea of Julius out there unsupervised.

"Not really, now do you want to repeat that using words I can actually understand this time?" he said quirking an eyebrow. Hermione felt herself redden. Despite her frequent wins over Draco, he was still one of the few people that was capable of making her flustered and feel like she couldn't keep up intellectually.

"A dentist is a muggle healer for teeth and mouth related problems," she explained. "The muggle method can be quite painful so teeth healers that do it with the least amount of pain possible are highly sought after. My father is one of them."

"So what does your father say in his essay?" asked Draco, nodding in understanding.

"Well," Hermione hesitated, "I told him that I had been seeing you for a while and that I didn't want to say anything until I was sure it was serious, and that you had proposed out of nowhere and I've accepted."

"And?" prompted Draco, unsure of why his stomach was clenching with an almost nervous tension. It was like he almost cared what her father thought of him. He forced himself to get a grip and downed his drink quickly to settle his stomach.

"He wrote back saying he was thrilled, and that he wants to meet you- tonight," finished Hermione, nervously tugging on a strand of curly hair. She wasn't sure how she would possible convince Draco to come visit her father, who was without a doubt the most important person in her life. Herman Granger had been almost a benchmark for Hermione to live up to her entire childhood: He had always been her hero. He had worked hard at his job so that he could afford the best education for Hermione in order to secure her future. Until his practice had taken off (when Hermione was ten) he had sacrificed everything that wasn't essential for himself so that he could meet all of his daughter's whims. Not that Hermione was particularly whimsical. Out of a healthy mutual respect, Hermione's father made sure he always had enough to provide for anything she could want, and Hermione made sure she always found a way to get by without putting her father out. At least until money was no longer an issue in the Granger household.

"Well in that case, you should write back and confirm a time while I cancel our plans with Blaise," said Draco, pulling out two handsome quills and some expensive looking parchment. He handed Hermione a scroll and pushed his bejewelled ink pot towards her.

"You really want to meet him?" asked Hermione incredulously. She had expected Draco to be a lot more difficult about this.

"Why wouldn't I? After all you are living in the Manor with me and my mother, when you could've insisted I live with you, or that we move somewhere else without her. I hardly think I'm in a position to make a fuss about seeing your old man. Besides, he will be giving you away at the wedding correct?" –Hermione nodded– "Which is another reason why I should meet with him before then."

"Thanks," said Hermione gratefully, starting to write the letting to her father. For a few minutes the two of them wrote their respective letters quietly.

"Granger?"

"Yes?" Hermione looked up from her writing to see Draco looking almost uncomfortable.

"What happened to your mother?"

"She died two years ago," said Hermione softly. "She was a teeth healer just like my dad, my parents are a lot older than those of the people our age. My mother was nearly forty-two when she finally managed to conceive me, my father was forty-five."

"I'm sorry," said Draco slightly surprised. The idea of Hermione with much older parents hadn't struck him. They would've had to be in their fifties when she left for Hogwarts. Considering his parents had married when they were eighteen, and had him a year later, Draco found it ludicrous that his mother wasn't even in her forties yet, while Hermione's parents were that age when she was born.

"It's not uncommon for muggles to marry quite late, some of them get married in their thirties even," said Hermione, defensively. She could see Draco was surprised at this turn of events. But of course he would be, he was following in his parents' footsteps. Julius was three and Draco was only twenty.

"There is no need to be defensive, I was just curious. I wasn't asking so I could be judgemental. You always think the worst of my intentions."

"Sorry," said Hermione feeling abashed. "Also we'll have to dress in muggle clothes. I know my dad would prefer it."

"Well, I suppose I shall go out and arrange for some then," obliged Draco. "Along with some oak-matured wine to take with us. I'd better leave now so that I'm ready by the time we need to leave. Shall we meet back here at say, half six?"

"Perfect."

Hermione knocked on the door to her childhood home with trepidation. Even though Hermione went to dinner with her father whenever he was in town, she was somehow nervous about seeing him tonight. She wasn't sure if it was the long absence or the fact that she was introducing him to her future husband. She had thought that she would be concerned about what Draco thought of her home and her muggle father, but right now, standing on her threshold, she realised she was absolutely petrified about what her father would think of him. Hermione had always thought, in the back of her mind, that she would never marry someone her father disapproved of, but now no matter what he thought of Draco, this wedding had to go ahead. It was quite unnerving.

"If I was a more arrogant man I'd think all this tension was sexual," commented Draco, watching his fiancée's profile. Over the past few weeks he had spent enough time with the girl to know when she was anxious. Everything about her stance showed tension, from her rioting curls to her stiffly held shoulders. She rolled her eyes at him, and even the curl of her eyelashes looked tense.

"If you were a more arrogant man, you wouldn't fit through my father's door with that big head of yours," she retorted. Although he does look bloody fantastic in that black suit…

"I'm surprised you do, with that head of hair," he shot back.

"Shut up, ferret face." Hermione was too tense to come up with a better come back. To her surprise Draco laughed instead of retaliating.

"Ferret… Face…? Did Juls teach you that?" he asked through laughs. Hermione felt herself smile and before she knew it she was laughing too. She had no doubt picked this up from Julius who was going through a phase of adding the word "face" to everything that displeased him. His current favourite insult was "snot face". It was at this point that Herman Granger opened the door, to find his daughter and her fiancé all but splitting their sides in laughter.

"Sorry I took so long, my knees are not what they used to be," he apologised while smiling at the laughing pair. "Do come in."

Hermione and Draco straightened up, and he watched as she gave her father a tight hug. Her face had brightened, and she surveyed her father with something akin to hero-worship.

"Dad, I'd like you to meet Draco, my fiancé," said Hermione, feeling slightly anxious as she watched the two men shake hands. Draco followed Hermione and her father into the house and to his surprise, it was a lot bigger than he had expected, and very well furnished. It was nothing like the extravagant opulence of the Manor, but it was obviously the house of a well-to-do person. Herman led them into a living room that was elegantly furnished in mainly mahogany furniture and gestured to them to sit on a buttery leather sofa. Draco noticed that compared to his house, Hermione's home was a lot more modern and stylish. Though perhaps it seemed that way because the room was filled with odd muggle devices that Draco failed to recognise.

"So Draco," Herman began, as Draco felt himself jerk to attention. "What do you drink? I'm sure that a drink would be well timed right now."

Draco was surprised. He had been convinced that Herman would ask him something that was politely interrogative but this man seemed genial and welcoming. It was almost as though Herman already liked him just because he thought Hermione did.

"Draco isn't familiar with our drinks Dad," Hermione interjected before Draco could say a word.

"I'm open to trying some out," said Draco pleasantly. "I'm sure I will enjoy whatever you are fixing for yourself, uh, sir."

"There's no need to be so formal child," Herman smiled at him. "Call me Herman, and I'm a Scotch man myself so I'll fix us one of those to start with, and maybe some day you would like to come over and try the different ones our world has to offer? We could make an evening of it. I don't have a lot of friends travelling the way I do, so I could definitely use the company."

"I'd like that," said Draco sincerely, taken aback by the niceness of the man. Next to him he felt Hermione relaxing.

As they sipped their drinks, Draco was pleased to discover that he got along well with Herman, whom he found to be a very refined and intelligent man. Instead of the fatherly interrogation that he had expected, he found himself asking Herman questions about his life and his occupation, and was genuinely interested in what the older man had to say. Hermione watched in slight shock as her father and fiancé were deep in discussion about the intricacies of root canals, while they sipped on some ancient Scotch that Draco seemed to enjoy. She could see that Draco was quite impressed by what Herman did and the struggles he had faced in setting up his own practice.

"I'm envious that you can use your skills every day in your line of work," admitted Draco as he happily accepted another Scotch. "I had thought it would be the same for me. I own a potions company, which at first was a great way to use my skills, but now as it's gotten bigger, I have become more of an administrator than an actual contributor. When I do come up with ideas, I have to delegate their implementation to someone else just so that the deadlines are met and the company functions smoothly."

"My boy, I felt the same way a few years ago," said Herman confidentially. "The more I travelled, the more work I was forced to delegate, but over time I have found a way to balance things. When you own your company, you can decide exactly what sort of role you want in it. I too felt like I had become an administrator, but when I delegated a lot of the administration and simply audited it every week to ensure I wasn't being swindled, I once again had the time to see patients."

"Now that's an idea," said Draco thoughtfully.

Hermione tried to conceal her surprise. She was finding out things she didn't know about either man sitting in front of her. She listened more than participated with their discussion till Herman suggested they move to the dining room for dinner. She led Draco through to the adjoining room where she and her family always had their meals. Draco was pleasantly surprised to see that the table had already been set for three, and that there was a floral centrepiece along with unlit candles. It was the sort of elegant set-up he was used to. He had no idea why he had always assumed Hermione came from a humble background.

"I see Rosa has been here," said Hermione, smiling affectionately at the table.

"Of course, she made all your favourite dishes. She would've stuck around but it's her sister's birthday tonight," said Herman as he swivelled a dial in the wall to turn on some soft lights.

"Rosa is our housekeeper and cook," Hermione explained to Draco, as she gestured to him to sit. "I'll go bring the dishes from the kitchen."

"There are some times when her magic is useful," admitted Herman as he sat at the head of the table, adjacent to Draco. They looked up as Hermione levitated the food into the dining room and set it down on the table.

Draco had a thoroughly enjoyable time over dinner. He laughed with Herman over anecdotes about Hermione's childhood, while sampling the food which he admitted was excellent yet simple. Herman Granger was clearly a man that appreciated quality and a certain standard of living, but Draco could see that he had the look of someone that would do without it if he had to. It was admirable. Draco realised that Hermione was completely devoted to her father, and after having met the man he could see why. If he was honest with himself, Herman was the sort of man he wished he'd had for a father. It was hard to miss the obvious love and respect the father and daughter had for each other as they discussed books and travels, always making a conscious effort to involve Draco. From what Draco could gather, Hermione seemed to have gone on many holidays with her parents, and often to places he had also been to with his parents. To his surprise, Draco found himself fondly discussing his trip to France and comparing it to the one the Grangers had taken around the same time. Looking around, it was obvious where Hermione got her love for books from. There was at least one large bookcase stuffed with volumes in every room he had been to. Before they realised, the evening had flown by and it was time for Draco and Hermione to take their leave, after many assurances to Herman that they would visit at least once before the wedding next week, they Apparated back to the Manor.

"Nightcap?" asked Draco as they walked through the silent hallways of his house. Hermione nodded and they made their way to his study. To her surprise, Draco elected to sit next to her this time, instead of opposite her as he usually did.

"So, you seemed to enjoy yourself tonight," said Hermione, sipping her Butterbeer.

"Your father is a very interesting man," admitted Draco as he took a swig of his Firewhiskey, "He had a lot of experiences to share, and I could learn a lot from him."

"I have to admit, I'm surprised," said Hermione.

"Why? My blood purity obsession has been long gone," said Draco defensively.

"I know, it's just hard to grasp how much you've changed sometimes."

"I wish it was easier for people to come to terms with the fact that people change," said Draco slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "First impressions are lasting I guess."

He looked so forlorn at the thought that Hermione's breath caught in her throat. He looked like a lost little boy instead of the bully and Death Eater she had always perceived him as. Sitting there in the dying firelight, he looked a lot like a fallen angel. A very defeated fallen angel. His lips looked soft and welcoming in the dimly lit room, and his pale skin made him look almost ethereal. Without realising what she was doing, she placed her palm over his cheek, and felt herself lean in. His eyes looked like quizzical orbs of storm clouds, as he tried to understand what was going on. Their lips were millimetres away when, in a shudder of neurones and synapses, Hermione realised what she was doing. This was Draco Malfoy. How could she possibly have thought that getting close to him was a good idea? Future husband or not, he was still Draco Malfoy, he had been a bully and a Death Eater, not to mention he had mocked her mercilessly at every chance he had gotten. How could she have forgotten all that? He would bring her nothing but pain and heartbreak.

Abort mission First Proper Kiss she thought to herself frantically, drawing back.

"It's getting late, I should go to bed. We have brunch with the Weasleys tomorrow," she said quickly as she got to her feet, almost knocking her chair over in her haste.

She quickly walked out of the room without a second glance at the dumfounded Draco. He sat there half frozen to the spot unsure of what had just happened. He could've sworn she was about to kiss him and then she had fled as though he did indeed have Ergoyles. He racked his brain trying to think if he had done anything wrong, but for the life of him he had no idea why she leapt away from an almost-kiss that she herself had initiated. Women were so confusing.

Harry frowned at Hermione as she conversed with Molly Weasley. She had been acting completely unlike herself ever since she and Draco had arrived at the Burrow for brunch. While Hermione was normally polite and welcoming, she had been nothing but brusque and almost rude to a bewildered Draco who was desperately trying to be polite and overlook her behaviour. He wasn't the only one to notice, because even Ron had felt sorry for the blond and was currently trying to include him in a discussion about Quidditch with Charlie Weasley and his wife Katie Bell, who had just returned from Romania. Harry couldn't work out what could be wrong with the couple, but no matter how bad the situation was, Draco was at a gathering as Hermione's guest and it was almost painful to watch how wrong-footed he felt at being treated this way by the person because of whom he was present. Harry caught Hermione's eye, and beckoned her towards him.

"What's up?" Hermione smiled at him as she walked up to his side.

"I need to talk to you about something," said Harry in undertone, pulling Hermione away from the people that were crowded around the picnic tables that Molly had set out into the backyard. All the Weasley children, except for Fred of course, were present, along with their partners, so it would be unlikely that they would be overheard over the large volume of chatter.

"What's going on?" asked Hermione, concerned.

"I should ask you the same thing Hermione," said Harry frowning, "What is going on with you and Malfoy?"

"Nothing, nothing at all," said Hermione too quickly.

Harry sighed. "Hermione, you are acting in the worst possible way towards the poor bloke. What did he do that has made you this upset?"

"Does he have to do anything new? Isn't his past enough? I don't know why everyone expects me to embrace him as though the past never happened," said Hermione forcefully.

"Hermione, we have seen things in this war that I would never have dreamt of. We have seen people show courage beyond anything I would've expected, and we have seen people give up their lives without even giving it a second thought. Not just that, this war has taught me so much about seeing people in shades of grey. Sirius tried to get me to see things that way a few times, but it took a lot of loss and growing up for me to actually realise what he was showing me. In this war I have seen people change sides and it has completely shattered my perceptions of others," said Harry softly.

"But there were still marked sides Harry, there were still people that were good to us and people that weren't. Yes Malfoy changed sides in the end, but all that shows is that he has the capacity to be evil if it suits him and that he is indecisive," argued Hermione hotly.

"Ron left us while we were hunting Horcruxes, and yet we forgave him when he returned-"

"Eventually," muttered Hermione.

"Even so, we forgave him didn't we?" Harry persisted.

"Yes but he came back and did the right thing! He wasn't a mean bully for years, nor was he ever a Death Eater. All he did was falter off his path for a few moments, but he found his way back and did the right thing when it counted," said Hermione.

"So did Malfoy. So what if it took him slightly longer to get to the good side? Like Sirius said, the world isn't divided into good people and Death Eaters. There are plenty of people that weren't Death Eaters that betrayed us or didn't lift a finger to help, and there were plenty of Death Eaters that saved us. When it counted Malfoy pretended not to recognise us and saved our lives; when it counted his mother lied to Voldemort himself and stopped the war- and saved my life," said Harry determinedly.

"I know that, but Narcissa isn't the same person as Malfoy," Hermione twisted a curl agitatedly.

"What about Snape? We hated him for years and yet he would've died for my mum. Just like my dad did," said Harry quietly, "And the Weasleys took Percy back without a single reprimand. You have never once looked down on them for doing so."

"It's completely different, Percy is their family-"

"And Malfoy is your fiancé," said Harry.

"Not by choice!" retorted Hermione.

"What does that have to do with anything? Did the Weasleys choose Percy to be in their family?"

"It just does- Harry- He, well, he's almost killed people," said Hermione feeling flustered.

"So have I, and more than just 'almost'," said Harry drily.

"Yes but you killed Voldemort, it was completely different. Voldemort was evil and he killed your parents. Everyone wanted you to kill him. You didn't exactly have a choice in the matter, Harry."

"Snape killed Dumbledore, and Dumbledore was far from evil," said Harry logically, "and how many Death Eaters did you yourself gravely injure or kill while trying to defend the people you loved? Malfoy didn't have a choice either. He had to obey Voldemort's orders to make sure his parents didn't suffer the consequences. I myself heard him admit that to Dumbledore the night he tried to kill him, and couldn't. When it came down to the crux of the matter, he had a choice to do the right thing and he did it."

Hermione felt herself glance over at Draco. The sunlight in his hair made him look angelic as he laughed at something Ginny said while pulling out a chair for a very pregnant Katie Bell to sit down on. He didn't look snobbish in the slightest. If anything he looked slightly taken aback every time someone included him in conversation or offered him the food. It was almost endeari- no. Going down this path was not an option. He was still the same Malfoy that had called her a mudblood, had tried to kill Dumbledore, and almost killed Ron and Katie Bell while trying. The same Katie Bell that was now teasing him, probably completely unaware of the damage he had caused her, albeit unintentionally.

"Harry maybe you can forget what Malfoy's done but I don't think I can," said Hermione finally. "He is a former Death Eater and it goes against my principles t-"

"What a load of bollocks Hermione," Harry interrupted incredulously, having just understood the expression on her face as she watched Draco. "It's not about his past at all. You were the one that told me evil was a strong word when I found out that the Half-blood Prince was Snape, you also stuck up for Malfoy when I thought he was a Death Eater. Clearly, you're trying to find excuses to wall yourself against him because you don't trust him and you're afraid of getting hurt. Being worried about opening up to someone and trusting them is always hard, but you can't live your whole life like that. Maybe Malfoy isn't your idea of the perfect husband, but while you are struggling against getting to know him, you won't even be able to make the best of things."

Hermione bit her lip as she mulled over what Harry said. To her extreme guilt and dissatisfaction, Harry was right. She was afraid. Afraid that he would let her down and hurt her in ways she couldn't protect herself from, afraid that she was growing too fond of him for her own good.

"It's okay Hermione, just give it some time and an open mind. I idolised the Half-blood Prince and thought of him almost as a friend until I realised it was in fact Snape. Eventually, I realised that Snape too was far from evil, but it took me a while to see that. Try to look past your perceptions, because people don't stay the same. People grow up, and their personalities are nothing but a product of their circumstances," said Harry tousling her unruly head affectionately. "You're a good girl, you'll do the right thing by you both."

"Thanks Harry," said Hermione, pulling him into a tight hug.

When they rejoined the others, Draco gave Hermione a questioning look, and she smiled as if to reassure him that everything was alright. Draco nodded and let the matter go. If she wanted to share the contents of her conversation with Harry, she would. But whatever they had talked about, it had made her change her attitude towards him completely. She was a lot more relaxed and welcoming again, much to his relief. She smiled at him and he was struck by how beautiful she was. Draco felt himself feel almost… Happy.

A/n: Thank you all for reviewing the last chapter! Also, thank you to all the repeat reviewers! I look out for your reviews after every chapter and I am always thrilled to see them. Hope that you all are enjoying my work.