"I...It is a pleasure to meet you, Hermione," He said," I...I..." He released her hands and shakily reached for Myria’s wreath. He turned it over in his grip several times before pressing it into Hermione’s hands. "My second son is dead, all of his children as well. You are the last of his line. This wreath was made of Myria, to pass down to her own children. Keep it, my girl."