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Hermione eyed Draco suspiciously over the top of The Daily Prophet. He sat across from her at the breakfast table, his brows furrowed as he murmured to himself over his porridge.
"Are you… okay?" Hermione folded the paper and set it down beside her coffee mug.
Startled, Draco looked up at her with wide eyes. "Oh? Uh, yes." He spooned a mouthful of breakfast into his mouth and waved her off. "I'm fine."
The next second, he was back to murmuring.
He kept murmuring as they levitated their dishes to the sink and summoned their outer clothes: a cloak for her and a Muggle windbreaker for him. As Draco shrugged the jacket over his shoulders, Hermione was finally able to strain her ears just enough to hear what he was saying. He seemed to be taking his time with each word, feeling the syllables as they slipped through his lips. His brow remained furrowed in concentration as he spoke.
When the words reached her ears, she nearly choked on her own tongue.
"What's. Crack-a-lackin'. Homeslice."
Now it was Hermione's turn to furrow her brows. What on Earth…? Shaking her head, she slung her purse over her shoulder and held the front door open.
"Come on, Draco. Let's get you to the office."
As a favour to her dad, Draco had offered to fill in for the receptionist at Granger Dentistry for the day. Under any other circumstance, Hermione was certain that her fiancé wouldn't want anything to do with secretarial work. But these days, Draco found himself in unique circumstances—circumstances that revolved entirely around convincing her parents that he was good enough to marry her.
They'd been putting him through his paces recently, much to her chagrin.
First it had been Mum, who insisted he learn how to cook in a Muggle kitchen. After stepping out to have tea with a friend, Hermione returned to her parents' house to find him in a pink, scalloped apron, covered in flour and large flecks of brown sauce as he struggled to prepare a London Broil for Sunday dinner.
Then, it had been Dad, who spent three weekends straight dragging him to hardware stores and then making Draco his official repair assistant. Draco had changed the oil in the family car, cleaned several hair-filled drains, mended a fence, and cleaned the gutters.
And then there had been the family.
Uncles and Aunts who pushed him for loads of personal information. Cousins who played all manner of pranks on him.
And he was dreadfully easy to prank, considering his lack of experience with Muggles. That, and the fact that the family believed he had grown up in an old-fashioned household without any sort of technology.
This murmuring thing? Hermione suspected it was another prank of some kind.
As they walked to the Apparition point, Draco continued to murmur to himself. Each time he said the strange phrase, he changed his tone and emphasis slightly.
"What's crack-a-lackin', homeslice?"
"What's crack-a-lackin', homeslice?"
"What's crack-a-lackin', homeslice?"
By the time they disappeared with a crack and reappeared behind Granger Dentistry, he'd tried at least fifteen different variations.
"Draco, what are you doing?" Hermione whispered as she held the door open for him. They stepped inside and she led him over to where he would be checking patients in for their appointments.
"I'm practising," he said matter-of-factly, shrugging the windbreaker off his shoulders and hanging it on a coat hook. He then settled into the wheeled chair and cracked his knuckles.
"Practising for what, precisely?"
Before Draco had the chance to answer, the phone on the reception desk rang loudly, echoing through the still-empty waiting area. He jumped and snatched the phone with an incredibly serious look on his face. Holding it inches away from his face, he mouthed those same words he'd been practising all morning, took a deep breath, and—
Hermione dove forward and stole the receiver from his hands, bringing it right up to her face.
"Granger Dentistry, how may I help you today?" The familiar words spilled from her mouth as Draco stared up at her from the desk, an air of betrayal flashing in his eyes before his cheeks flushed a deep red.
"I wish I could hex your cousin Nick," he mumbled once Hermione took down the appointment information and hung up.
"He's the one who told you to say that ridiculous thing, isn't he?"
Draco nodded, crossing his arms in a huff. "Bloody Nick."
Hermione just shook her head and leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Have a good day. Just sign people in with this notebook and answer the telephone, preferably not with words my cousins have suggested. I'll be back at five."
When she made it back outside, Hermione immediately flipped her mobile open and dialed her home number.
"Oh, hello darling." Mum's voice carried through the phone. "Everything okay?"
"Not really, Mum." Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. "Can you please tell everyone to lay off Draco? For once?"
"He's manning the phones today, isn't he?"
Hermione grit her teeth. "Yes."
"Fine, fine, darling."
"Oh, I've been meaning to ask you. Did you make the changes to the wedding invitations? The ones we discussed?"
There was a brief pause, and then—
"Oh, Hermione, I sent those out last week."
Hermione spluttered. "M-Mum! You didn't! The spelling—!"
"It'll be fine, darling. Everything was checked twice."
"They still said 'Narcissa and Lucy' on them!"
Sighing, she pulled out her wand as she prepared to Apparate. "What about you, Mum? Everything going okay with dinner tonight?"
"Oh yes, Hermione. I'm just peeling some potatoes."
"Peeling potatoes—? Mum, I already peeled some this morning."
"Well, we need more."
"More?" Hermione crinkled her nose as she did the mental math. "How many more do we need? There will only be six of us."
"Six of us… plus the family."
"The… family? Oh, Mum, you didn't…"
"What?" In the background of the call, Hermione swore she heard the peeler scraping away. "They're going to have to meet the family eventually."
"It's just… I told the Malfoys to come for a quiet dinner to meet my parents."
"Ah, details." Hermione could have sworn she heard her mother giggle. "I've got to go. Your Uncle Roy is here with the lamb."
The soft glow of evening sun shone through the Muggle neighbourhood as Hermione Apparated to a secluded area of a nearby park. She was set to meet the Malfoys and bring them to the dinner. Draco was already waiting for them there, having spent the day with Dad at the office.
Waiting there with her parents. And the family.
She'd warned everyone in advance of the slight changes in the plans. Hermione just prayed her parents were simply planning to expand the dining room table to accommodate more people and not do something outlandish.
"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione called when her future in-laws appeared on the other side of a particularly large tree. "It's lovely to see you."
"You as well, Hermione dear."
Hermione immediately took in their appearances. Narcissa was smiling beneath a full face of make-up and a Muggle dress that looked like it came straight off the rack and cost at least a thousand pounds. Lucius eyed the nearby playpark warily before straightening his expensive-looking Muggle suit and relaxing his expression into a smile.
"Good evening, Miss Granger."
She led the way out of the park and down the street toward her parents' home. As Hermione walked with the Malfoys, she engaged in casual conversation about her work as an apprentice at an apothecary in Diagon Alley. She inquired about the recent acquisition the Malfoys had been working toward in the potions industry. All the while, she felt herself grow sweaty in all the wrong places with each step she drew closer to the family.
Dread pooled in her lower stomach as they turned onto Baybridge Street and the house came into view.
The family wasn't just over for dinner.
The family was over… for a barbeque.
"Hermione!" Dad called out from the front lawn in his shorts, sandals, Hawaiian shirt and an apron—his favourite—that read, 'Let Me Be Frank' with the image of a sausage embroidered on the pocket.
Hermione was sure she was seeing double. But no. That couldn't be right.
Beside him stood Draco, in nearly identical attire. His apron, clearly a gift from Dad, read, "All Fired Up!" with an embroidered grill beneath. He grinned and waved with his free hand. The other held a pair of long, metal tongs.
Surrounding them was the entire family. Uncles. Aunts. Cousins. Everyone. They were all milling about, but the moment Dad called out, they stopped their idle chit chat and turned their attention to the new arrivals.
The Malfoys stood at the edge of the lawn, panic flashing in their eyes. They were clearly trying to maintain composure, although Hermione did catch Lucius's mouth fall open slightly when he caught sight of Draco.
From within the crowd of Grangers, Dad stepped forward.
"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Welcome to our home. Allow me to introduce my family."
From there, Dad proceeded to name every single member of the family. Hermione carefully shot a glance at the Malfoys, whose eyes began to glaze over at the sheer number of names presented to them.
"…this is, of course Michael the third. I've already introduced his father, Michael the second…"
Although Draco had already been through this circus of introductions, he paid close attention, leaning forward and looking at each person in turn to remind himself of all their names
"And I—" He bowed slightly, spatula extending outward as he dipped, "—am David."
The Malfoys blinked, seemingly unsure how to follow up after such an introduction. They didn't have to say anything, though, because in the next moment, a voice sounded from behind the crowd.
"They're here? Where? Excuse me." From behind a gaggle of cousins, Mum emerged in a brightly coloured sundress with a tropical flower tucked behind her ear. When she found the Malfoys, she extended her arms to them. "Hello. Welcome to our home. I'm Jean Granger."
This, it seemed, was less intimidating. Mrs. Malfoy stepped forward and handed the big box she had been carrying to Mum.
"A gift," she said lightly. "For you. If I had known it would be such a…er… large gathering, I would have brought more. It's from a very exclusive patisserie in London."
The aunts all leaned in as Mum opened the top of the box to reveal a beautiful round cake covered in gold leaf. It was nothing short of exquisite; a far cry from the finger foods that the family was otherwise serving. The gold leaf sparkled so brightly that Hermione knew it had to be enchanted. It covered most of the cake, to the point where the thing looked more like a museum piece than a confection.
Mum's jaw dropped. "Oh my. It's… it's… what is it?"
"It's a Golden Grimblehawk."
"A Golden Grumblock?"
"Grimblehawk." Narcissa's eyes popped slightly as a vein throbbed in her temple.
"Grimbook?"
Hermione felt her cheeks grow hot as she finally decided to speak up. "It's a cake, Mum."
Mum's eyes lit up. "It's a cake! How wonderful. Thank you."
Narcissa deflated slightly as Mum carried the cake away. Hermione could have sworn she heard Mum whispering to one of her aunts that, "there's no way I am going to cut into that thing because it looks like it costs as much as the car."
With Mum out of the way, Hermione led the Malfoys over toward the grill, where Draco was keeping a close eye on the lamb chops and sausages.
"Draco, what are you wearing?" Mr. Malfoy hissed when they were close enough. His eyes lingered especially on Draco's feet, clad in sandals. "I had no idea you owned such...colourful attire."
Draco shrugged. "Dr. Granger said we were having a barbeque, so I packed some casual clothes in my work bag." He eyed the expensive dress and suit that his parents were wearing. "I could transfigure yours if you like…"
"No thank you, dear." Narcisa patted him gingerly on the shoulder. "I wouldn't… be comfortable."
Draco shrugged and turned back to the meat. Before she had the chance to act as a buffer any longer, Hermione was tugged away by her cousins and two of her aunts.
"What kind of family are you marrying into, exactly?" Aunt Linda pressed.
One of her older cousins, Maria, chimed in. "Did you see what they're wearing? They've got to be rich."
"And look at the way they're staring at the grill. It's like they've never seen one before." Auntie Helen looked practically scandalised.
Hermione sighed as they all made their way over to the ice chest full of beer bottles. "I told you," she said for what felt like the hundredth time. "The Malfoys are very old-fashioned. They don't use much...technology at their manor."
"They have a manor?"
"I wonder, after you get married, how many people have to die for you to be queen."
Hermione just groaned into her full bottle.
By the time she emptied the bottle, Hermione managed to make it through the first thirty minutes of pestering. She'd watched from a distance as the expression on Lucius's face grew more horrified by the second as he watched his son man the grill. Hermione wasn't sure it was possible for her future father-in-law's jaw to drop lower. But then Draco poured a can of beer over the meat.
It was possible, as it turned out.
She was going to kill Mum and Dad. True, they'd picked up a barbequing habit during their time in Australia, but to pull out all the stops for this particular dinner? When they clearly knew better?
Yes, she would definitely be murdering them later.
Draco, despite the trial-by-fire he'd been navigating with her family, seemed to be doing surprisingly well. He was chatting with Dad, grinning and laughing about something with the tongs in one hand, a beer in the other. He looked so entirely Muggle that Hermione hardly recognised him.
Beside him, the Malfoys looked uncomfortable as they tried small bits of crab dip, calamari, chips and dip, and mini sausage rolls. All finger foods, the starters looked strange between their pinched fingers as they navigated eating without utensils, likely for the first time in their lives.
Lucius narrowly avoided dropping a glop of the crab dip on his fancy-looking suit by milimetres. Twice. It landed on the lawn instead, and was promptly licked up by Uncle Michael's dog.
That, more than anything, seemed to bother Lucius Malfoy.
Just as Hermione went to grab a second beer, Draco's voice cut across the dull roar of chatter.
"Olly Olly Oxen Free!"
Hermione's eyes widened as the whole family froze and then burst into uncontrollable peals of laughter. Her chest clenched in half-horror, half-amusement as Draco's face turned bright red and rounded on a few of her cousins.
"I'm going to hex—get you!" He self-corrected and began to chase Nick around the yard, snapping the tongs in his direction.
The whole family filed inside as Dad reeled Draco back in to help him dish the meat up onto a platter. Hermione led the Malfoys to the sitting room, where they settled onto a settee, though unlike the rest of the family members, who were lounging on other pieces of furniture and leaning against walls, the two of them remained sitting perfectly straight and stiff.
Hermione took pity and sat beside them. She was about to do a short check-in, but before she could get a word out, Auntie Helen practically crashed onto the other side of them on the settee.
She reached out and took Narcissa's hands in her overly-eager ones. Her future mother-in-law jumped slightly at the sudden contact, but didn't pull away. A true sign of commitment.
"Now, you are family." Auntie Helen spoke the words with a tone of finality. "Okay. I must tell you, it was only recently that I was able to wear these shoes." She gestured to her sunny yellow pumps. "You see, I've always gotten the worst ingrown toenails."
Hermione placed her face in her hands, unwilling to risk looking the Malfoys in the eye.
"I'm talking about pain beyond belief. Pus like you've never seen before. But the doctor, he finally set me up with this ointment. It's like a dream. If you're ever in the market for a podiatrist, I've got just the one for you."
When Hermione gathered the courage to peek through her fingers, she saw Auntie Helen leaning into Narcissa's personal space, hand resting on her knee while both Malfoys looked mildly green.
Narcissa recovered first, managing to swallow and plaster a smile on her face. Hermione followed her eyes as they traveled down to the aforementioned yellow pumps.
"Well, those shoes do… look lovely on you."
Auntie Helen patted her knee with greater fervor. "Oh, thank you." Dad passed by with a tray of food and she grabbed a handful of skewers, thrusting them under the Malfoys' noses. "Lamb kebab. Eat!"
As they each took tentative bites, they turned even greener.
Hermione took the first opportunity to slip away and check on Draco, and in her absence, Mum and Dad took her place.
"How are they getting along?" Draco murmured between bites of his own kebab, shooting a glance across the crowded room. Hermione looked as well and watched as Dad dangled a container of bottom-shelf whisky in front of the Malfoys, clearly trying to impress them.
Draco had given his parents several pep talks before this dinner, reminding them to be patient with the Muggles. About not upsetting them. About catering to them.
And now it seemed the moment had come.
Hermione and Draco hid behind the kitchen doorway as Lucius and Narcissa grimaced through three shots of whisky each. Mum and Dad drank right along with them.
Behind them, a group of relatives had already dug into the Golden Grimblehawk with enthusiasm.
"Oooh, what a lovely strawberry," one of her cousins cooed as she shoveled another bite into her mouth.
"Strawberry?" An uncle frowned as he chewed his own forkful. "This is clearly carrot cake."
"I thought it was chocolate," yet another cousin piped up. "What's wrong with your taste buds?"
"It's a flavour-changing cake," Draco hissed to Hermione behind his hand. "Mother and Father bought it thinking everyone present would know about magic."
In front of them, their parents were getting tipsier by the second, and behind them, an argument about the flavour of the cake was reaching a boiling point. Hermione wasn't sure which she'd rather hide from, but for better or worse, the situations collided when a horde of relatives paraded into the living room to demand answers about the cake.
"What's this stuff made of?" his uncle demanded, pointing at his empty fork. "Because each of us thinks it tastes totally different. It's like magic!"
At this point, the four parents were three shots in, and Lucius started slurring an explanation about culinary charms before she and Draco dove away from the safety of their little corner to intervene.
Somewhere between trying to explain a multi-flavoured cake away and stopping his parents from spilling the beans, the Malfoys each took another shot, Mum pulled out an album full of baby pictures, and Dad got all the uncles to start singing a drinking song.
It was all Hermione could do to stand and watch as Narcissa drunkenly conjured an album full of moving photographs of baby Draco. The two women began to cry maudlin tears as they shared the pictures. She also watched, stupefied, as Lucius tried to join in and sing along with the other men, chiming in the best he could without actually knowing the words.
"What. Is. Happening?" Draco stood, wide-eyed by her side, his expression caught somewhere between horrorstruck and amused.
Somehow, beyond all expectation, family dinner was going… well?
Since when was it ever going to go well? Especially with her family present?
Dad raised another shot of whisky and called out over the drunken singing. "To family!"
"To family!" everyone chorused back, raising their own glasses.
"To Narcissa!" He placed a hand on her shoulder before turning to Lucius. "And to Lucy!"
Lucius lurched forward for a moment before jumping to his own feet and dusting off his fancy suit. Fear shot through Hermione at the indignant expression that lingered on his face.
And then he broke into a grin. "To Lucy!" he shouted, throwing back another shot.
The whole family cheered as Draco and Hermione sank into chairs on the other side of the room.
"This… is going to be an interesting wedding." Draco grimaced as he watched their fathers drape arms around each other and break into a sea shanty together.
"That's one word for it." Hermione shook her head. "Just promise me one thing."
"Anything."
"No whisky at the reception."
"Merlin, no."
Hermione slid her arm around Draco's waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I think your parents make pretty good Muggles."
Draco chuckled as the Malfoys toasted the Grangers. "You know, I think you might be right."