Author's note: So here's that sequel I promised. I would like to dedicate this story to
Draco-Hermy, a loyal reader and reviewer who's stories keep me quite entertained. But without further procrastination, here's "Are You Kidding Me? A Marriage law?" Oh this takes place 2 years after the end of the epilogue. So our characters are 25 years old, except for the years below and above Mione's.
I was in my room in my apartment. Curtains closed. Windows and doors locked. Lying in bed. Head covered. Today was a day of mourning, well for me anyway. It was the one day a year I let my emotions get the better of me. I only left bed once.
I just laid there. Barely moving. If anyone managed to get in, they'd think I was dead, but everyone knew better than to disturb me today.
Today was an anniversary, but obviously not a good one.
It's the anniversary of... the day I gave birth to and gave up my Mia. Her fifth birthday was this year. An owl would be coming soon with a picture of her. That was when I left bed- to get my owl with my picture of my baby.
My little conundrum, as I call her sometimes, since she was supposed to be a boy and magical pregnancy tests are 100% accurate.
I've done research but have found nothing. It's probably some ancient Malfoy family magic. To find out would mean talking to members of the Malfoy family, only one of which was still alive, still rotting in Azkaban, Satan himself, Draco Malfoy.
I mean I have sorta forgiven him on a level and all, but this guy raped me and that is not easily completely forgiven. Full pardon will probably never be earned.
So here I am, five years after the fact, still hurt, still scarred, still... broken.
I haven't gone on a single date since the fact. Ron and Harry and Ginny have all moved on with their lives, of course. We really don't see each other much anymore. Maybe once or twice a month at most.
Of course, they live in the magical world and I in the muggle so that doesn't help.
I decided to move into muggle London about a year and a half ago. A life in wizarding world was just not for me.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
That was an owl.
I got up with pajamas still on and messy from tossing and turning in bed all night and day, hair completely ridiculously out of control, and cheeks red and tear-stained.
I moved slowly to the window which the noise was coming from. Upon opening the curtains I see that familiar owl that has brought that picture every year.
I take the letter, give the owl a snack, close and lock the window, draw the curtain, and climb back into bed.
This year there was a letter attached with the picture. That was strange. I haven't gotten an actual letter from them since the first year when they informed me they would send pictures.
Whatever. It doesn't really matter does it? So I cast the letter aside for now.
The only important thing is the picture. Seeing my Mia and the beautiful little girl she's growing into.
There she is blowing out her birthday candles. Smiling. Like there's nothing else in the world than her little bubble of a world.
Childhood innocence. It's supposed to last. Mine was taken far too young. I was launched into a magical world that was just heading into a war and simply because of who I was friends with I was launched into a war.
And any innocence I tried to retain about a silver-lining was taken away by a slithering snake.
I'm pretty pessimistic these days.
I just sat there staring at my little girl, well their little girl.
After what must have been at least an hour, I remembered the letter sitting there.
What harm could there be in reading it? Right? The last letter from them brought good news after all.
Well at least this time I was right. There was no harm.
In fact, it was the best news I had ever heard.
Dear Miss Granger (I hope I'm not offensive in presuming you are still a "Miss" and a "Granger"),
As you know it's Mia's fifth birthday. She is exceedingly smart, which she obviously gets from her biological mother, and has noticed she looks nothing like "Mommy" and "Daddy." She has been asking a lot of question, and we decided that we would tell her that this is because she is adopted. It may seem very soon to tell her, but I believe the sooner the better, and since she is very smart, I think she can understand and handle it.
In light of this, we would like you to be there when we do. I believe if she is going to know she is adopted, I think she should know to some extent for now why and should know her biological mother does love her and did it for her own good. Maybe the two of you can have a relationship- to a moderated extent of course.
Please write back if you would like to meet your daughter and to arrange a time and day you can come.
Sincerely yours,
Ally Carter
I was speechless. I was going to meet my, their, my, their, whatever. I was going to get to meet Mia. I would be able to know her.
If this wasn't cause to get out of bed, I don't know what was. " Please write back if you would like to meet your daughter" HA! As if I didn't want to meet her. Of course I did.
I was touched that they knew and recognized that I love her and did it for her own good. This was a miracle- almost too good to be true.
Dear Mrs. Carter,
Of course I would love to meet her. Nothing would make me happier. And I do agree that sooner is better. When a child finds out too late in life, it can have negative effects. I would like to have this moderate relationship with her that you mentioned.
Let's arrange this meeting quickly please, as you said, "the sooner the better."
I would love to be there when you tell her, but this might be too much at once. Perhaps you two should tell her, and if she wants to meet me then we can arrange a meeting. I wouldn't want to overwhelm or scare her or force her into something she doesn't want. I know she is only five, but still, I think, even though it pains me, the decision to meet me should be up to her.
Let me know your thought on this, after all you are her real mother.
Sincerely,
Hermione Granger
P.S. You were not offensive or wrong in assuming I am a "Miss" and a "Granger."
I went down quickly to get my owl out of her cage and send this message to Mrs. Carter.
I went to my beautiful pure white bird, her name is Agele, after the Greek goddess of light and radiance. Pretty name for a bird right?
I sent her off and collapsed in my arm chair, like nothing could go wrong. That was my big mistake- thinking that it was safe to leave bed permanently.
That's when the problem came.
An owl came into my living room window, dropped a letter on my coffee table, and flew away.
I knew that bird. It was a ministry bird.
Nothing, I repeat, Nothing is scarier than having the Ministry send you a letter.
Note: So what do you think? I happen to like it, but I may be a little biased. Review please!
