The reality of the impending reunion with her parents hit Hermione over dinner. Her mood grew increasingly somber and pensive. When they returned to their room, they got in bed and Hermione fell asleep in Draco's warm and comforting embrace.
The next day, Hermione and Draco looked at a map of London they had picked up. Hermione used the locator spell to find her parents. It was the weekend, they should be home, Hermione thought. Her parents weren't generally the sort to go out and do things on the weekends. They preferred reading and doing things around the home.
Her wand pointed to the same location in the suburbs that she'd seen in the many times that she'd used the spell to locate her parents over the past few weeks. She was reasonably sure now this was where they lived since they spent most of their time there outside of the working hours.
Hermione also was reasonably sure she knew where they worked as that was the other location where they spent the majority of their time.
"Looks like they're home," Draco said. "Shall we go?"
Hermione's stomach was in knots. Now that the moment had come, she wasn't sure if she could do it. She began to wring her hands.
"I don't know," Hermione said. "I'm afraid."
"What are you afraid of?" Draco said, rubbing her back soothingly.
Hermione thought. What was she most afraid of? "I'm afraid of them being happier without me," she whispered.
Draco's hand stalled, then began to rub her again. "That's impossible," he said flatly. "They love you and they won't have forgotten about you deep down. They're your parents. They gave life to you." He sighed. "As my mother always likes to point out."
"Are you going to see her?" Hermione asked. "Over the holidays?"
"Don't change the subject," Draco said. He sighed again. "Maybe."
"Let's make a deal," Hermione said. "I'll go see my parents if you go see yours."
Draco eyed her. "Deal," he said. And then seemed to have a realization. "Wait, does that mean you don't want me to come with you?"
Hermione took his hand. "As much as I'd love for you to come," she said. "I just realized this is something I need to do for myself."
Draco nodded. "That's fair." He straightened up. "All right," he said. "I'll go visit my parents while you go see yours."
Hermione squeezed his hand. "See you tonight for dinner?" she asked.
"Yes," he said. "See you tonight."
Hermione kissed Draco and gave him a tight hug. Before she let herself fall too deeply into his embrace, she stepped away and Disapparated.
Hermione appeared on a quiet, well-groomed street that reminded her of the neighborhood that she'd grew up in. Her parents' overall tastes in living locations hadn't changed, then.
She walked down the street until she found the spot she'd seen on the map. Hermione stood staring at the house. The lawn decorations included the ugly Father Christmas that she'd grown up with. Her and her father had always hated that Father Christmas, but her mother had loved it and insisted on putting him outside their house. They'd kept that then. Even though they'd moved to Australia and back, it was clear they hadn't gotten rid of everything.
Gathering her nerves, Hermione strode up to the front door and knocked. "Someone's there, Wendell!" she heard her muffled mother's voice cry out. "Could you go check who it is?"
Hermione heard someone stumping towards the front door. It opened to reveal her father. He'd aged only a little in the almost two years since she'd seen him. The lines around his eyes were deeper. He had an air of worry about him she'd never seen before.
When he saw Hermione, his mouth fell open. He seemed stunned into silence. Finally, he said, "It's you."
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked quietly.
"I-I, well," he said, stumbling over his words. "I don't know quite how to explain it. Would you like to come in?"
"Yes, please," Hermione said, feeling mystified.
"Monica!" her father called. "It's her. Could you bring some tea?"
Hermione heard running footsteps and her mother appeared in the home's entryway. She gasped. "It is her!" Her mother stepped closer looking at Hermione, inspecting her. Hermione inspected her mother in turn. Similar to her father, her mother had aged a little and had that same air of worry about her. More grey flecked her mother's hair.
"Oh, come in, come in," her mother said, a little flustered. "How rude of us to leave you standing at the doorstep while we stare at you. Wendell, why don't you show her to the sitting room while I put the kettle on."
Hermione noted that they still used the pseudonyms that she'd given them as part of her memory charm.
Hermione's father brought her into a small sitting room that looked so familiar to her even though she'd never been there before. This, of course, wasn't the house or neighborhood that she'd grown up in, but the style and accoutrements around the house were very similar, if not the same. Hermione recognized a few knickknacks from her childhood that her parents clearly had not let go of.
"Won't you sit down?" her father asked, indicating a plaid patterned armchair.
Hermione sat down, while her father sat on the adjacent sofa looking awkward.
After some time, her mother entered the room. "I just put the kettle on," she said, brushing her hands nervously on her pants. "The water will be warm enough for tea soon." She sat down next to Hermione's father.
"Did you ask her for her name?" Hermione's mother asked her father.
"Ah, no," he said. "I didn't."
Hermione's mother tutted a little. "What's your name, dear?" she asked Hermione.
"My name is Hermione Jean Granger," she said.
"Hermione," her father said wonderingly. "I always wanted to name my daughter that if I were so blessed to have one."
"Jean," her mother said, in the same tone. "Just like my grandmother."
"What did you mean when you said that it's her earlier?" Hermione asked, not daring to hope.
Her parents looked at each other. "Well, we've been having these dreams about a young woman" her mother said. "She looks exactly like you. We've described our dreams to each other and realized we're dreaming about the same person."
"Sometimes this same young woman appears younger in our dreams. Sometimes as a toddler, a small child, and a young girl," her father said. "But we know it's the same person, just at different ages. We knew it was you at once."
Hermione's eyes filled with tears. "That's incredible," she said.
"What about you?" Hermione's mother asked. "What brings you here?"
Hermione debated telling them the truth right then and there. But she wasn't sure if she was ready. Or if they were ready. She wanted to find out why they'd come back from Australia.
"My parents were dentists," she said, using the excuse that she had come up with. "They've been gone for two years."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Hermione's mother said, gently.
"Thank you," Hermione said. "I was looking through their things and saw that they'd mentioned knowing you. I thought I'd come by and visit, just to talk to people who knew my parents." It was a weak story, but she hadn't been able to think of better.
"Poor dear," Hermione's mother said. "What were your parents names?"
"Hugo and Michelle Granger," Hermione said, truthfully, curious about their reaction.
Her parents looked at each other. "The names…" her father said. "Are very familiar."
"We have sometimes accidentally called each other by those names," her mother confessed. "Without really knowing why. It's strange.
Hermione nodded to herself, it appeared that they were remembering their old lives subconsciously. "I heard that you'd moved back here from Australia recently," she said. "Which is why I thought I'd come by and visit."
"Why yes," Hermione's mother said. "We spent about a year over there."
"What brought you back?" Hermione asked, hardly able to breathe.
Her parents looked at each other again. "We're not entirely sure," her father said. "Something just pulled us back. It felt right to come back."
"It felt like we weren't in the right place anymore," her mother said. "We had this strong urge to move to Australia, but after about a year had passed, we knew it was time to come back. And something pulled us to London in particular."
Could it be that they somehow sensed that Voldemort had been defeated and that it was safe to come back? That she'd needed them? The emotion hit Hermione full blast in her chest, and she began to cry.
Her mother rushed to her side and wrapped her arms around Hermione like she'd done many times over the years. "What is it?" she said, holding Hermione close.
"You're my parents," Hermione said. "And you came back for me."
"How can that be?" Hermione's mother said, still holding Hermione.
"I'll show you," Hermione said, gently extricating herself from her mother and standing up. Hermione pulled out her wand and cast the complex counterspell to reverse the false memory spell she'd placed upon them.
Her parents' eyes grew blank and fuzzy as she cast the spell. Slowly, they refocused upon her.
"Our daughter," her father said, coming to her side. Both of her parents embraced Hermione, crying and laughing.
