AN- Just to do some justice to any adopted anybody who reads the "Hermione Gets Adopted" stories and feels utterly repulsed when she shoves away her adoptive parents immediately. That's so unrealistic. Here you go.
Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter.
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Hermione looked from the letter up to her parents. Adopted? She shook her head and looked back down to the letter again. She folded it up and pushed it methodically back into the envelope.
"Mum..Dad.." Hermione looked up at the two adults looking at her with curious eyes and paused for a moment. She almost tried to come up with a lie to tell them so they would never have to know what she had just read. But they would know. They were her parents. They were.
"What is it, sweetheart?" Mrs. Granger asked from across the table, spreading butter on a scone with ignorant ease. Her brown eyes that were nearly identical to Hermione's own looked up at her daughter.
I don't look anything like them. Hermione realized. That's why they always placed such importance on Mum and I having the same eyes. That's all that's the same.
"I just got a letter," Hermione said and stared into her glass of orange juice so she wouldn't have to look at her parents anymore. "It's from my biological mother."
"Oh, Hermione." Mr. Granger stood up suddenly and was on his knees with his arms around her so quickly, Hermione hardly saw him move. He cradled her head against his shoulder and stroked her hair, and soon she began to cry in earnest.
"We planned on telling you when you when we thought you were ready." Mrs. Granger said as she came and placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder and squeezed comfortingly, "But you weren't anything to us but a daughter. Ever. Even in the beginning. We adopted you when you were five days old."
Hermione looked into her father's crisp blue eyes and ran her fingers through his black hair in wonder. She looked at her mother's blonde hair and brown eyes. "I should have known." Hermione said with a small laugh that held no humor. But in her heart she couldn't find herself being even slightly angry with them.
"Hermione, bug, you are our daughter." Mr. Granger said. He looked close to tears and Hermione hugged him tightly around the neck. "Your mother and I were not able to have any children, but you are our own daughter. You are."
"I used to worry about what I would say to you." Mrs. Granger said, "I don't know if you remember, but when you were still an infant I would sing a lullaby to you that explained everything I feel."
Hermione hardly believed anything besides her and her parents existed in that moment. No Voldemort, no raging war. Nothing.
"Sing it to me." Hermione whispered urgently. "I need to hear it."
"Not flesh of my flesh, nor bone of my bone," Mrs. Granger began in a wavery, watery singing voice, "But still miraculously my own. Never forget for a single minute, I bore you not under my heart, but in it."
