Work Text:
Granger couple perspective, daily warmth
3K + is slightly different from the original
OOC sorry, do not like to spray, thank you (# ^. ^ #) 🙏🏻
When our daughter, Hermione Granger, was eleven, she had just returned from the supermarket to put down her shopping bag when she heard a regular knock on the door. Opening the door was a strangely dressed old lady, with gray hair and meticulously tied up in a bun, a standard image of an old lady in our community.
We asked her what you want?
She looked around, blinking big gray eyes as if she was looking for something. She said she was looking for our daughter.
Hermione poked her hairy head out from behind us, looking suspiciously at the old lady in front of her.
We politely invite her into the room, for her to consider a cup of hot tea, a few sit around the sofa chat.
She said that our Hermione sometimes had strange things or that wonderful things were happening around her.
Sweat broke out on our foreheads, and we felt that the lady in front of us was strange, and that we probably shouldn't have invited a stranger home. But Hermione pursed her lips and nodded. She said that sometimes her books moved from the desk to the bed for no apparent reason, and that she felt things shaking violently beside her when she was excited.
The old lady nodded approvingly, a gleam of pleasure in her eyes, and said that she had actually come to inform Hermione that Granger had been accepted to Hogwarts.
We poked our heads out and asked what is Hogwarts?
A magic school, the best and greatest magic school in England, she held her chin up proudly, and the old lady in front of us probably graduated from there and even taught here.
We asked Hermione for her opinion and agreed to go to that, that Hogwarts, after all, our little girl is so smart and lovely. Even if we learn from Lady McGonagall that pure-blood wizards grew up in the wizarding world and have mastered the beauty of magic, we don't worry, our girls will shine there.
It was our first trip to the wizarding world, and Professor McGonagall was Hermione's mentor, taking Muggle-born children to buy books, cauldrons, and wizarding robes.
Hermione was bouncing around us like a little squirrel, obviously curious about the wonders of Diagon Alley. Children are always interested in wonderful things. As she studied it, she looked longingly at it, wishing everything was hers. We came to Flourish and Blotts, a place that had held books for decades, a small space that could hold books and guests. We thought maybe it was magic.
"Did you see all this?"
We went to the counter to pay for the books, and when we came back, there was a child with shiny blond hair combed, Behind him was a small, sharp-eared creature, timidly following the arrogant boy in front of him. The boy had grown taller than Hermione, probably higher than pre-pubescent girls, so the boy raised his chin and looked up and down at her with disgust.
"Yes, I think I'll finish them all before school starts," said Hermione, hugging the heavy books into her arms to keep them from falling.
He snorted disdainfully and said, "Draco Malfoy."
"Hermione. Hermione Granger."
“Granger... Never heard of it. You're Muggle-born?”
"Yes."
We saw that the child's mouth, which had been frivolous before, was now set in a hard line, and there was a trace of disgust in his eyes, and though we did not know why, we probably guessed the surprise or contempt of our first visit to the wizarding world.
The child hastened away without a word, and the dirty-clad creature that followed him clung to its master, Why didn't the servants give him decent clothes? The rag wasn't clothes at all. It was a slave. We sighed, feeling that Hermione wouldn't have a very good life there.
Hermione and I hadn't seen each other for six months since our Christmas break. We ran our own medical clinic. The work wasn't busy, and in our spare time we would snuggle together for coffee and chat and sometimes repeatedly pull out letters from our children. The wizarding world must be a wonderful place, something we couldn't have imagined. Hermione seemed to fit in, and even the letters appeared with words we could not read.
At the end of June, after the summer break, we were finally going to meet Hermione, who seemed to have made two friends, both boys but much better than ever. We were relieved to see the children gathered together and hugged, and Hermione waved goodbye in tears.
"Mom and Dad, I'm glad to have Harry and Ron as my friends."
As we closed the car door and started to drive home, Hermione blurted out, and we looked at each other knowingly, probably thinking she was glad to finally have a good friend.
"But, I don't like Malfoy."
Malfoy? We raise our eyebrows and remember that it was the brat in Diagon Alley, and we ask why.
"He called me a Mudblood and always had it in for the three of us, especially Harry Ron." Hermione buckled her seat belt, crossed her hands and puffed out her cheeks.
We asked what a mudblood was.
"That's the pure-blooded term for Muggle-borns." Hermione's hair was cracking and her big brown eyes were full of anger.
Our hearts sank and we knew why. Sure enough, the child had been defiant when we first met. We hugged our daughter tightly and rubbed her hairy little head. We could feel her trembling shoulders relax.
In the first year, Hermione was the number one grade in the whole grade. We were very proud of her. She wasn't complacent about being number one and didn't use her grades to insult that Malfoy. She was our baby, always trying to be as hard-pressed as possible when others need help.
She would always moan about how the Potions Professor had targeted her and Harry, always taking their Academy points, and the Malfoy who, somehow, would wander around them as if to take a chance to laugh at them. As a long-time socialite, she knew that the boy... We told Hermione to watch out for him.
Fourth school year.
We ate the sweets that Hermione had sent from Hogsmeade, ignoring the enlarged tongues and the flippers, Counting the days on their fingers, flipping through the calendar to see when Hermione would be back, and making a few to-do lists. They had travelled a lot in the past summer holidays, so where to go this year, or ask Hermione for advice.
“Uh... Someone's coming over later, maybe some other time.” Hermione twitched her fingers and looked away.
Our hearts thundered, nervous swallowing saliva, this is a classmate to come!
And a boy!
We watched with a heavy heart as our daughter thrived in her graceful, Her hair did not explode as a child, buck teeth are corrected to normal size, her face seems to be painted with a touch of makeup, our girl grew up, the heart will not always put books, a boy broke into her heart.
"He's coming out of the fireplace."
Yeah, floo powder.
My husband and I were on tenterhooks, the soft couch was on pins and needles, who the hell was that boy.
Fireplace out of a group of green fog, dissipated from the inside out of a slender leg, green smoke through the hair, black suit outline beautiful curve.
We saw the insolent Malfoy, staring back at each other with a look of uncontrollable shock, Hermione running her fingers through her hair, which was taut and loose, and a faint blush on her face.
"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Granger." Draco bows politely, his eyes no longer arrogant.
We looked at Hermione, hoping that she would explain, but our heads were in a whirl, and we didn't understand that the boy we'd been mocking for nearly four years now seemed a little delicate.
Hermione and Draco's eyes flickered, and the boy, bewildered and shy, surveyed his surroundings. Hermione moved up to him and pulled him to us by the hem of her coat. The child had grown a lot taller, and Hermione was talking to him with her head low, her lips brushing against her exploded hair. We pulled them apart and sat on one side, and the two children gave each other a sneer, and really, God willing, we supported Hermione if it was her choice, but was the boy really responsible, would his parents really approve of them being together?
It was awkward between us, we didn't know what to talk about, everything we knew about him was from Hermione.
"I know you may be prejudiced against me because of my previous arrogance." Draco sat upright, looking serious. "But I'm serious about Hermione. I'll convince my parents."
He looked at the opposite Hermione, the girl and he looked at each other, we like the East fairy tales hinder the Cowherd and Weaver Girl together of the Milky Way, embarrassed and at a loss, well, may God bless Hermione, our good daughter. It should have been noticed from the first year that the blond imp was always picking on Hermione and the three of them. Muggles and wizards alike always seem to use targeting to get attention from girls.
We had never seen the child look so serious and serious, and the edge of her appearance was weak in front of Hermione, perhaps only in favor of her. When you look back, Hermione seems to have received a lot of gifts since second grade, The summer also has owls continued to bring packages, we thought it was the Weasley boy sent, but expensive bracelets, headdresses, earrings countless, although she finally returned, but the boy's rich speculation is another person.
We picked up a cup of tea, drink a cup, hot tea like the two tenderness nestled in the garden swing young, although I do not know how they broke the barrier together, but the future can face difficulties, the other party's choice must be hand in hand.