The next couple days passed much the same as the previous for Hermione. The day of her appointment she woke up with a heavy feeling in her stomach that she deduced as dread but also something tingled there that she couldn't quite explain. A sense of longing perhaps? But why would that be, she knows what the test will tell her. She began her day the same as any, making herself a pot of tea the muggle way and settling for some jam toast that she mostly just nibbled on. Her stomach twists far too much making her feel queazy.
Breakfast left to go cold, Hermione prepares herself impending day, brushing her teeth and twisting her hair into a knot held at the base of her head by her wand. She dressed herself in muggle clothing wearing a deep emerald green peplum top, light wash denim jeans and black flats.
The whole day she couldn't sit still and instead paced a hole into the floor of her flat, biting on her non-existent fingernails with worry. Hermione attempted to calm her nerves with more tea but instead had to settle for a calming draught that left a fuzzy taste in her mouth but did the trick.
3 o'clock rolled around with Hermione watching each agonising tick of the clock. Mustering up her Gryffindor courage she threw on a set of warm charcoal outer robes, her beaded bag and stepped into her Floo, throwing Floo powder down and firmly shouting "Ministry of Magic". In a flash of flames and smoke she disappeared and smoothly stepped out of the bright green flames into the black and white marble foyer of the Ministry of Magic. With ease she navigated to Level 2 - Department of Magical Law Enforcement as per the ministry letter. 'I guess they don't really have a department to deal with 'Post-War Bloodline organisation and recording" Hermione thought shrewdly.
The lift doors closed with everyone packed tightly like a can of sardines. She nodded formally towards people she recognised from the Ministry and noted some familiar faces from her years at Hogwarts. The lift dinged at Level 2 and she stepped out after the mass of people had exited and followed signage to the testing area and presented herself to the makeshift reception area where a worker sat with a list of names in front of her.
"Name?" The worker asked without looking up.
"Hermione Granger, for 3pm" Hermione responded lowly, trying not to draw too much attention to herself but that was useless when the worker looked up at her with wide, awe-struck eyes.
"Hermione Granger? THE Hermione Granger?" She said excitedly and not so quietly.
Hermione shuffled her feet uncomfortably and looked around to see who noticed and most eyes were on her, "Yes, let's not make an event of it, I'm here just as everyone else".
"O-of course, sorry", the worker started, "Take a seat and your name will be called shortly".
Hermione turned and found an empty seat among the chairs lining the corridor. She looked around at the other faces, some older wizards and witches, some her age from Hogwarts and some looked as young as 10. She noticed two familiar faces and recalled the Greengrass sisters. 'Ah it must be alphabetical order that they are testing everyone' She thought to herself.
Hermione sat with her hands tucked underneath her thighs in an attempt to keep them still. 10 minutes, 15 minutes, 30 minutes passed with other people being called in to the room, some exiting with indifference, others happy and the occasional in tears. She started to lose her patience when her name was called.
"Miss Hermione Granger?" A tall thin wizard called, looking down at some parchment in his hands.
Hermione stood silently and followed the man into the room and passed him in the doorway where he tapped his foot with impatience. Upon entering she noticed that all there was in the room was a medium-sized desk with two chairs on opposite sides, a large blank scroll of parchment and a thin, sleek and sharp looking knife. She took a seat at the desk, the wizard closing the door and joining her opposite.
"Alright Miss Granger, just some brief questions to ask to verify your identity then we'll get a drop of your blood on the parchment and it will do all of the work for us" the man explained quickly, making no time for chit-chat. 'Short and efficient, I can appreciate that, and no glorifying attitude is refreshing' Hermione thought to herself. Hermione gave a curt nod and the man began his questions.
"Full name?"
"Hermione Jean Granger."
"Date of Birth?"
"The 19th of September, 1979".
"Blood status?"
Hermione frowned slightly at this question.
"Muggleborn".
"Okay Miss Granger, that coincides with our records. Finally, just give your finger a prick with the knife, drop some blood on the parchment and we'll get you on your way" the man explained.
Hermione looked down at the knife in front of her. It had a smooth handle with a few swirling lines along its surface, a red jewel sat in the hilt and shone when the light struck it. The blade of the knife was long and thin, coming to an incredibly sharp point that reminded her of the story of Aurora and the spindle. With a slight tremble she picked up the knife and brought the tip of it to the other, steeling her nerves she pierced the skin with a slight wince and withdrew the knife, placing it back on the table. She allowed a drop of blood to bead on the tip of her finger and brought her hand to hover above the parchment before turning it over, allowing gravity to grasp the bead and it fell with a dull thud onto its surface. She watched with interest as the blood absorbed into the parchment until it could no longer be seen, and soon words began to appear onto the parchment.
Hermione Jean Granger
Born: 19th of September 1979
Well all that information is nothing new. 'This is all so pointless' Hermione thought to herself.
Blood Status: Pureblood.
'See just what I knew it would say, Muggleb- wait what?' Hermione thought to herself aloud. "That can't be right, my parents are both muggles, I'm muggleborn".
"This test is 100% accurate, there is no mistake", the man said, still with indifference in his voice, seemingly unfazed by the sight of someone shocked by their 'incorrect' blood status. Little did Hermione know, she wasn't the first this happened to since the letter was delivered by the Ministry of Magic.
"No that can't be, I'm not a Pureblood. My parents are Jean and Dan Granger, muggles", Hermione insisted but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the parchment as more names appeared below her own.
Parents: Regulus Black and Catherine Nott.
At this point she paid no mind to the letters appearing underneath the names of her supposed parents listing her inheritance and net worth in galleons. "It's wrong!" She shouted at the worker and he met her eyes and gave a slow deliberate shake of his head, 'no it's not' it said.
Hermione couldn't keep up with her thoughts as they raced around her head, there was no way that's true, it just can't be. She started to feel nauseous as if she would throw up, she grew dizzy and her vision started to blur. The last thing she saw before she lost consciousness was wizard pulling out his wand and a pillow appearing on the floors and her body slumped to the side, falling off the chair and landing on the mantle floor, head crashing onto the pillow.