Title: An Inevitable Fate

Chapter Eighteen: Searching

Author: KissThis

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Rating: R - maybe later...if I feel like it.

Pairing: Getting in trouble?

Setting: 6th year in Hogwarts.

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Disclaimer: Mirror, mirror, tell me true

Should J.K. give me my due?

No.

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A/N: The going is kinda slow...sorry, but I now have FOUR stories going, Fate, Revelation, Stars II, and now Life. I shall do my best, though.

"What do you mean they didn't make it?" It was all Snape could do at the moment to repeat the Headmasters words in bewilderment.

"I just received word from Fudge." Dumbledore explained. "He's had round-the-clock surveillance going on at the Ministry, but they never even stepped onto the property."

The shock had settled in and now the gears were slowly beginning to turn in the Potion Master's analytical mind.

"There was a carriage waiting for her..."

Dumbledore sighed, "She did get on...and the carriage arrived at its destination -- but it was empty." He spoke in his normal soft tones, and though he wasn't shouting, he clearly felt as stressed as Snape appeared. He also made no move to keep the conversation from the students.

Snape, however, felt differently.

As if suddenly aware of the students' presence, his mouth snapped shut like a steel trap, cutting off any words that might slip through his lips of their own accord. His head moved a fraction of an inch -- which one might assume, was a nod -- and he motioned to the thick door leading to his adjoining office.

No matter how much the Headmaster's news had offset him, all the "proper" mannerisms and protocol that had been drilled into Snape's memory as a boy never left him and he stepped aside to allow the elder man to pass him. Once he was completely inside the room Severus swooped in after him, his black robes billowing; in a trademark Snape effect, and slammed the door shut with a bang.

The small band of students thrown haphazardly into a class, mixed from both second and third years, were deathly silent. Not even the banging door could rouse them from their sorrowful sense of crumbled hope.

Then, very slowly, a girl rose from the front row. She was small and thin, more so than one would think a third year should be, but then again the war had made them all a little leaner...more hardened. Stringy, brown-blonde hair fell in clumps over her bony shoulders while she gathered up her books and shoved them carelessly into her patched bag. She almost seemed angry.

A cherubic second year looked up at the older girl and blinked her big, soulful, brown eyes that gazed from behind large, circle-framed glasses.

"She's not missing...they just can't find her yet."

The older girl hoisted her now-filled bag onto her shoulder and in doing so pulled the hair form her face. She was wearing a scowl.

"Then she's as good as dead." The brunette-blond monotoned.

The cherub gasped and recoiled into her seat, "How can you say that. Jessica?!"

But Jessica was already stalking towards the door -- her scuffed, too small Mary Janes click clacking on the stone dungeon's floor. She made no move to answer the young girl's disbelieving prompt.

"She's our last hope -- the Sovereign! How can you give up on her so easily?!" The girl's voice had now raised to a shout, but the teachers did not surface from the office.

Jessica opened the door to leave, but something seemed to make her hesitate and she looked back over her shoulder, "I was a fool to believe in hope, Kali...for we are all damned to die..."

Then she was gone -- an open doorway in her place.

Tiny tears of frustration pricked at the corners of the girl's - Kali's - eyes, "SHE WOULDN'T GIVE UP ON YOU!"

Slowly, but without hesitation the remaining students stood as well and began to repack their school things.

"When someone goes missing, Kal...they don't get found." A second year boy said quietly.

They filed out of the room then, some casting troubled looks to the brunette who had collapsed into her seat; others keeping their eyes painfully locked on the door. No one said anything.

Kali's lips quivered and a lone chill raced down her spine while fighting back tears.

She just has to be okay...

Maxime's black, liquid-looking eyes swept over the young girl, apparently not listening to the continuous stream of whisperings the sallow man was uttering in her ear. She raised a jewel-bedecked hand and the man's voice instantly died away.

"Jean-Pierre." She boomed...and yet her voice was soft as velvet. Odd. "Go, fetch Miz Delacour...she may vant to see zis."

"Mais Madame--" The blonde boy protested.

"GO!"

The boy didn't dare object again, but his displeasure and annoyance were clearly evident as he vanished with a POP! and a scowl.

He re-apparated again, after a moment, beside a slender woman a few years his senior. A long sheet of silvery-blonde hair fell almost to her waist, and she had large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth -- her veela inherited traits blatantly obvious. Upon seeing the woman once again Hermione was instantly remained of the derisive laugh she had given two years ago during Dumbledore's speech, making her bristle in defense of her Headmaster. She looked exactly the same.

"Hello again Fleur," Hermione said with a smile. "I had hoped you'd be here..."

The half-veela's delicate nose scrunched up in thought. "I am ze Profezor of Charms for ze castle."

Hermione nodded in understanding, "All the more convenient."

Fleur's hands rested idly on her hips clad in the pale blue robes of Beauxbatons. She seemed to notice Harry for the first time and smiled quickly to acknowledge his presence. " 'Arry."

Harry gave her back a lop-sided grin, "Fleur."

Though Fleur and Harry's first meeting had been icy, Fleur's opinion of Harry had grown exponentially since the second task of The Triwizard Tournament where Harry had, at the risk of his own score, waited, in concern, for her before rescuing both his and her charge; her younger sister, Gabrielle.

"I received your letter, Herm'ne." Fleur told her. "Zo, I'm not entirely sure vat I can do to 'elp..."

"Profezor Delacour, vat iz going on?" Maxime interrupted stepping off the step. "Vat are zes people from 'Ogwarts doin' 'ere?"

Fleur's back unconsciously straightened defensively, and she stepped sideways slightly to better gesture at the young brunette standing unobtrusively on the pathway with her legs together and her arms at her sides -- effectively taking up as little space as possible.

"Zis is Herm'ne -- she is fulfilling ze Zovereign Prophecy. And she needz our 'elp."

Draco blinked rapidly as the harsh sunlight assailed his eyes. Already, the result of seven Butterbears was sending pounding waves through his skull. Groaning for a mixture of reasons, not the least of which being that he seemed to be lying on his dorm room floor.

What the hell happened last night?

Drawing up his knees he slowly pushed himself to his feet staggering slightly so that he painfully crashed into his bedpost to "save" himself. Looking up at the mirror hung over his bed he took in his disheveled appearance and grimaced. He brushed the unruly strands of blonde from his eyes and turned his head to examine the side of his face. One whole side of his face was red with the bumpy carpet texture imprinted across his cheek.

As if it couldn't get any worse he happened to glance at his bedside clock.

11:46

"Oh, fuck!"

A/N: Um...I was gonna make this longer but...ah well. Too lazy I guess. Um...Revelations first, then Stars II, then probably Fate again 'cuz with passing Life back and forth it'll probably take ages to get up.

REVIEW! PLEASE!

I only had like 2 last time...TELL YOUR FRIENDS!

KissThis