Hermione placed the laurel wreath back on the vanity table and leaned against the wall, arms crossed. She smiled. "Good," She said, feeling like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders after speaking the words," He...He expressed a desire to mend the old wounds his son caused. My mother and I were the last of that son’s line...and now it’s just mine. He assured me that the rest of the Daynes aren’t the same as my grandfather. What do you think?"