Hermione was very excited. It was her sixth birthday, and her daddy had promised that she could come with him to the office and learn how to clean the tools he used to look at people's teeth. She knew it was a very complicated process, with steam and hissing and sometimes clattering from inside the metal box he put the dirty things inside.
She tied her shoes slowly and carefully, pulling the strings gently until each bunny ear lay precisely on the patent leather of her Oxfords and tugged at the lace edging the tops of her socks just so. It was very important that everything be just right, especially for today.
The little girl liked things just so, and today was even better than every other day, so it was more important to do things in the right order and not mess up.
First she got up and grinned at the little mirror girl, waving to her curly haired friend who looked exactly like her. They could be twins, but the other little girl lived in the mirror world, so Hermione knew it wasn't possible they were related. But it was enough just to have a friend.
Then, she went into her pretty, clean bathroom and brushed her teeth. Right now she had a loose one, and it was very hard not to poke her tongue at it and watch it wiggle in the mirror. It felt so weird and good, but she knew it was wrong, so she stuffed those funny feelings way down in her tummy as she hopped down from the stool and pushed it back into its spot underneath her sink.
Clothes came next, and today she was very pleased with her outfit. Her dress was light blue and tied with a dark blue, slippery sash. Her mummy had laid it out last night on her story chair after Hermione had been tucked into bed and had helped her into it this morning, fluffing out the skirt over the layers of tulle underneath. The lace socks, of course, and her always sensible, polished Oxfords completed the dressing part of the morning. Sparing a glance for her mirror friend, she waved and made her way down the hallway to the front of the house and the kitchen to find her mother.
"Mummy!" she called out as she entered the room, her eyes quickly scanning the empty room in disappointment for the older woman. But she heard sounds coming from her parents bedroom and thought her mother was just running late today and decided to start without her. Hermione's place was already neatly set and food awaited her as she settled into the wooden kitchen chair and smoothed her dress down over her knees.
The oatmeal had diced strawberries on top and she cheered silently, strawberries were her favorite food but she rarely got them, as her birthday came after the strawberry season had passed, and her parents took a dim view of frozen produce in general, let alone fruits with loads of sugar in them, even if it was natural.
A quick look around told her she was still alone, and so Hermione allowed herself a grin and began to pick the fruit from the bowl of cooked oats, ignoring the small pat of butter in the center that was rapidly melting from the warmth. Oatmeal wasn't her favorite food, and since starting primary school she'd learned what other children ate for breakfast.
Children whose parents weren't dentists. She loved her parents dearly but sometimes wished they were more normal, and by extension, she could be more normal. Finishing the strawberries, Hermione suddenly realized she no longer wanted the oatmeal, had in fact, never wanted oatmeal once in her life, and greatly wished it was as far away from her as it could get.
Hermione and her mother both cried out at the same time – in the kitchen, the bowl had disappeared right before Hermione's eyes, and in the bedroom, her shocked mother watched it appear over the bed and upend itself, slopping the mess onto the neatly made bed and spattering the laundry Mrs. Granger had been folding seconds earlier.
She rushed into the kitchen to find her daughter staring at the table in disbelief. "Mione, what happened to your breakfast?" the woman asked sharply.
The girl spun in the chair. "I – I didn't feel like oatmeal this morning, Mummy, " she replied, too startled not to be honest with her mother. They stared at each other for long minute before the elder Granger made her way back to the bedroom, a new emotion in her eyes that Hermione didn't recognize.
The birthday girl curled up in the chair and felt tears come to her eyes. This wasn't how things were supposed to go at all! It was her birthday and stupid oatmeal wasn't going to ruin it. She wouldn't let it, she thought, getting down and running to her mother.
The day went on as planned, but after the first burst of accidental magic, there was a little more fun and a lot less ritual around the Granger home.
END