By Reason Of Birth

The Tea (part 1)

Three days later, Hermione was starting to get in the groove of the routines at Nott Cottage. She would wake early and eat breakfast with her parents before Brisco went to work at the Ministry as an Unspeakable. Having escaped capture the night of the fiasco at the Ministry over a year ago, he had never lost his job, and certainly hadn't been sent to Azkaban, where the others were still locked up.

Her mother would go tend to her greenhouse, where she grew rare herbs and plants, selling them for a high price to apothecaries throughout Great Britain. Caoilinn would finish and shower before lunch, which was usually spent with Hermione, though Theo had been up and joined them the day before.

After lunch, Hermione would work on homework, read, or talk to Caoilinn or Theo, learning as much about her family and family history as she could. She wrote letters to her friends, telling them about Nott Cottage, and letters to the Grangers, saying that she missed them but she was getting along.

Brisco would come home around five, but she wouldn't see him until dinner. After dinner, the four of them would relax in the library and talk or read, and Theo would try to coax her into a game of Wizard's chess.

Today, though, was Hermione's first foray into the pureblood social world. She and her mother were going to tea. At the Parkinson's. To say she was dreading it would be an understatement, though her mother tried to assure her that everything would go fine. Theo just smiled at her in sympathy.

While the women would get together for tea every second and fourth Saturday of the month, the men would get together every first and third Saturday for drinks and cigars. At either social grouping, children were allowed to attend starting the summer before their sixth year at Hogwarts.

While families such as the Weasleys looked at these get-togethers as pompous and unnecessary, others looked at it as making contacts and helping their futures. Like in the Muggle world, it was often about who you knew rather than what you could do. When the two happened to coincide, all the better. On 'Tea Saturdays,' dinner was served at seven, while on 'Brandy Saturdays' it was served at five to accomodate the family's social engagements.

At quarter past three, Caoilinn came to Hermione's room to inspect her. She was wearing ankle-length, cream-coloured, light robes that clung snugly to her bosom and waist, flaring out at the hips. The neckline was cut into a scalloped boatneck and the sleeves were small bits of fabric that floated out from the shoulders. She had three sets just like this one, only in different colours. She was wearing matching sandals, her toenails as well as her fingernails done up.

Her necklace and earrings were a matching pearl set she had received from the Granger's as a sweet sixteen present. Her hair was loosely pulled up, held at the crown of her head with two pearl encrusted barettes and falling so the semi-controlled curls just hit her back. She had only enough makeup on to enhance her features rather than distract. Caoilinn nodded her head in approval. "You will make a stunning first impression," she remarked.

"Thanks," Hermione responded, unsure of herself. Ten minutes later they were walking up the sedate paths to the imposing structure of Parkinson Manor. It wasn't the least bit homey the way Nott Cottage was. It stood straight up out of low earth, the stones dark, gargoyles and stone lions roaming the edifice, staring at everyone who passed in an intimidating manner.

Hermione shuddered at the feeling of unwelcome, attracting Caoilinn's attention. "You have nothing to worry about from the guardians to the manor. They will never attack a pureblood unless that person is bringing harm to a member of the Parkinson family on their land. Had you really been Muggle-born, it wouldn't have been wise to even think of stepping foot on the property," Caoilinn told Hermione, letting the sentence die off.

Caoilinn rapped the overlarge knocker on the front door and it opened immediately, a small house elf standing off to the side. "Hello. Tizzy bring misses to drawing room. Come with Tizzy, misses." They followed the elf down a large hall to the fourth door on the right, entering an airy, bright room that seemed out of place after seeing the outside of the manor.

There were five circular tables with five chairs each, each setting having a plaquard of who would be seated where. At every gathering there were a core group of women, but each time there were different influential women attending, to socialize and to see the young blood and get a feel for them.

They glided into the room, Hermione trying to imitate her mother's countanence. Barely four seconds passed before a pug faced woman in elegant robes appeared before them, a beguiling smile on her lips. "It's wonderful to see you, Caoilinn," the woman said, the two women kissing each others cheeks. "And this must be Hermione," she said, turning to look Hermione over.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Parkinson," Hermione responded with a smile in her voice that she didn't really feel. She felt she should comment on the house, but frankly it scared her and she wasn't sure anything she'd say would come out as a compliment.

"Charming," Mrs. Parkinson cooed, pulling Hermione close and kissing one of her cheeks. Apparently she had passed some sort of test, if the sidelong smile her mother gave her was anything to go by. The hostess linked their arms together and brought her into the room, Hermione sending a scared look to her mother, who smiled encouragingly at her.

Mrs. Parkinson led Hermione through the room, keeping up a constant stream of chatter not only to Hermione but to all of the women that they passed, each looking at Hermione curiously. They recognised her from the papers over the years, particularly from the end of spring when she had a hand in disposing of the tyrant known to them as the Dark Lord. Some had heard the gossip of her being a pureblood, but all had known her to be Muggle-born.

They stopped at the farmost table, where Pansy sat with her Slytherin housemates, chatting. When they looked up and saw the new arrival, their mouthes dropped simultaneously. "Granger?" Pansy asked increduously.

Mrs. Parkinson opened her mouth to chastise her daughters' manners, but Hermione beat her to it. "I'm sorry, Pansy, but if you wouldn't mind calling me Hermione, I would appreciate it. If you can't, my surname is no longer Granger. I am now legally Hermione Nott instead of only by blood."

Pansy looked dumbfounded, though more than one of her 'friends' had the hint of a smirk on the edges of their lips. Mrs. Parkinson looked from one girl to another before nodding her head and leaving to converse with her guests.