Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, and I never will be. These characters are not mine, except the Conzonnis.
Today was a very important day. Two birthdays. One reunion. Indeed, June 17 proved to be a very significant date. Happy birthday, pureblood Michael Conzonni and muggleborn Hermione Granger.
Hermione Granger was very excited. Today was her birthday, after all! She was turning 16, finally. Like every girl, Hermione couldn't wait to turn sixteen. Sixteen was considered as a socially acceptable (though not legal) age for a girl to turn into a woman. Besides, Hermione's parents always made sure that she had the best birthdays. Ah, she could picture it now. Double stacked chocolate cakes, mounds of presents, a special birthday dinner made especially for her. With the thought fresh in her mind, she bounded down the stairs, dressed casually in a pair of tight denim jeans and a light pink camisole, complete with her black flats and a messy bun.
Shocked? Hermione Granger was quite a different girl now. Yes, she still focused all her attention on schoolwork, but that didn't mean she couldn't afford to spend a little bit of time for self-improvement, right? Hermione had always been a perfectionist, an overachiever. Since 4th year, she always spent those extra five minutes in the bathroom to make herself look more presentable. Not to mention the fact that she was absolutely gorgeous: full pink lips, large chocolate eyes, long fluttering eyelashes, complete with a coke bottle figure. Hermione had always gone for the natural look; she didn't need to cake make up on her face like that cow Pansy Parkinson to feel beautiful. She was beautiful on the inside, and that was all that truly mattered to her.
"Good morning," Hermione's shrill voice cried out.
Hermione's parents were sitting at their boring rectangular dining table, backs turned to her. Mr. Granger turned and gave her a tightlipped smile, while Mrs. Granger ignored her. As Hermione turned to sit and face her parents, she suddenly noticed their odd behavior. They were both sitting with two large mugs of coffee placed strategically in front of them; both were filled to the brim, although not a sip was taken. No steam was rising out; the coffee was as cold as ice. Mrs. Granger stared at the shiny acrylic mug, not blinking, as if she was a child in a candy store. Mr. Granger looked intensely at the clock above Hermione's head; his eyes were following the second hand making its rounds. A stack of mail lay on the table between the two adult Grangers, possibly the only normal thing in the kitchen that morning.
What was going on? Was this part of her birthday surprise? Act like complete freaks, and then give Hermione the best birthday bash of her life? Probably not. Her parents made no motions. Hermione took this time to glance around her kitchen. No presents, no breakfast, no cake.
"Uh. Mum? Dad? Are we going out to breakfast or something? What's going on?"
"What?" Mrs. Granger suddenly looked up, shocked, as if noticing Hermione for the first time.
"Aren't you guys forgetting something?" Hermione hated sounding like that, but no one had even wished her a happy birthday yet.
"Happy birthday, Hermione, my baby, my child. I love you, you know that, right? I'll always love you, no matter what decisions you make in your life." Mrs. Granger let out, a sob rising in her throat. Tears streamed down her face and her nose turned red. She rushed out of her seat and snatched a Kleenex from a lilac box atop the kitchen island.
What the hell? What was happening? Hermione didn't know her mom to get so emotional. "I know, Mum. I love you too." Hermione rolled her eyes slightly. Her dad still hadn't said a word. She eyed him carefully.
"Anyways, we have something very important to tell you. And for now, just sit here and listen. First off, remember that I love you very much, we both do. You know that, right?"
"Yes, mum." Hadn't they just gone over this?
"Of course, you know you're adopted." Hermione nodded. "Well, your birth parents have been trying to contact you. They want to reunite with you."
"WHAT?"
"We've been exchanging letters with them for the past month. They'd really like to see you, Hermione. We've scheduled a meeting for dinner tonight. Just us and you and them."
"Forget it; those people abandoned me, mum. If they think I ever want to see them, they're seriously dreaming. You're my parents, and you're all I'll ever need."
"That's all very sweet, dear, but we'd like you to see them. They've given us some very good reasons for their actions. Just hear them out." Mrs. Granger continued.
"Since when are you on their side? They don't understand; you don't get to choose when you can take responsibility for your kids and not. It's not fair to me or to you guys."
"There's more."
"Oh Merlin, what now? Like life could get any worse," Hermione muttered under her breath.
"It's just that, your parents, well your birth parents, they um, well uh…."
"Oh for goodness sake, spit it out, Kathy." Mr. Granger finally snapped. Mrs. Granger emitted a sound which was a cross between a pig in pain and a rusty jackhammer. Hermione finally realized that her mother was crying, full out sobbing.
"They're a magical family. Pureblood." Mr. Granger blurted out. "Wizards back to the oldest days. And according to some ministry document, they're allowed to claim you and take you back to live with them if they want. Since they're pureblood, and we're a non-magical family, and they're your birth parents, they have rule over you. I'm sorry, honey. I wish things could be different."
Hermione stayed silent for a while, until she finally broke down and started to sob. "This is so unfair. I'm just a puppet for everyone to toy around with. This is horrible. I hate it so much." She cried hard, tears racking her entire body. Her adoptive mother latched onto her and held her tight, as if her protective arms could literally shield Hermione from life's problems. After about an hour, she detached herself from her parents and went upstairs to her bedroom to think about her situation a little more.
"Oh, and Hermione, don't tell anyone about this ordeal yet. Not until everything's settled." Hermione didn't like her father's choice of words. It made her feel like a pawn in a business deal.
A few hours later, Hermione walked fresh out of the shower, hair still dripping wet, and body wrapped in a fluffy towel. She walked into her closet and looked around for something nice to wear. She really didn't care about her birth parents, but she still wanted to make a good appearance. She finally settled on a simple black dress that ended midthigh; it was strapless with silver lining around the bodice. Her hair was curled into loose waves, and light makeup was applied. At six, the Grangers left the house. They piled into Mr. Granger's new Mercedes and drove to a fancy French restaurant, Le Petit Coq, located at the heart of London's shopping district. The trip there was awkward and silent, each person thinking the same unvoiced thought: what now?
"Reservations under Conzonni," Hermione's dad informed the hostess. Conzonni? Where had Hermione heard that name before?
"The Conzonnis are already here; follow me and I'll lead you to their table," the bubbly blonde waitress chirped. They glided over to a table in the very back of the restaurant; it seemed secluded from the rest of the tables. A dark haired man sat beside a gorgeous brunette woman and a young black haired boy. They boy seemed to be about Hermione's age. He looked up at the sound of footsteps, and Hermione got a good glance at his face.
"YOU!" she shrieked.
