Disclaimer: Still not mine. I know, it's a travesty, but what can I do? It all belongs to J.K. Rowling, except for the plot.
The Knight Bus had dropped her off in front of the gates to Hogwarts. She had considered going to the Burrow or to perhaps Gimmauld Place, but she needed to speak to Professor Dumbledore.
It was a fairly long drive to Hogwarts, as there were many passengers before her. Many had children with them, some that Hermione vaguely recognized from school. She had a long time to think about recent events and she took full advantage of it.
Her parents' eagerness to be rid of her hurt, more than Hermione ever imagined it would. She never really understood her parents, they were always slightly off. Overachievers would be a nice way to put it. Psychopathic workaholics would be a more honest way. They believed in being the best they could, and they also thought that everyone else should too.
Hermione was their pride and joy. The epitome of the perfect daughter. She got wonderful grades, did what she was told, helped out around the house; everything a parent could want from their child. But that all ended when Hermione got her letter.
Then she was simply an oddity that her parents put up with, they drifted apart to the point where Hermione had no idea who her parents really were anymore. Her sister Abby, who had previously been in the background of the family, was now their parents' sole concern.
Hermione sighed. What was she going to do now? She had no money, so where to go... This was her only chance, really. No. There was no use in thinking this way. It didn't serve any productive purpose. Of course Dumbledore would help her.
She walked though the gates, dragging her trunk behind her. It wasn't heavy; she'd put a featherlight charm on it. Yeah, it probably went against the restrictions on underage magic, but hell, she was a pregnant woman and she wasn't about to drag her heavy trunk up all of those steps unaided.
She finally reached the large double doors of the castle and slowly opened one.
The Entrance Hall was rather dark, streams of light poured in from the high windows but just didn't penetrate into all of the dark corners and crevices. She left her trunk inside by the doors. As much as she didn't want to make extra work for the house elves, she couldn't carry around the trunk much longer. The charm was beginning to wear off anyway, and she needed to speak with the Professor immediately.
She walked through the still halls. It seemed so unearthly, the school being so quiet. It didn't feel like Hogwarts at all.
Finally she reached the stone gargoyle. She stood there a moment, internally going over what she was going to say to Professor Dumbledore.
Then, after thinking a moment, she of course realized that she hadn't the slightest clue what the password was.
But, in the end it was inconsequential as at that very moment, Albus Dumbledore waltzed down the hallway in all his purple-robed glory.
The headmaster inclined his head slightly in Hermione's direction. "Good Afternoon, Miss Granger."
"Hello, Professor. I...erm...that is to say I..." Hermione started but was stopped by Dumbledore's hand.
"Let's go up to my office." he said, then he mumbled the password to the gargoyle, low enough that Hermione couldn't hear.
The gargoyle hopped aside and both of the climbed the spiral stairs that led to Dumbledore's office. The Headmaster strode over to his desk and sat down, his gait showing no signs of aging. He gestured for Hermione to take a seat, which she did.
As Hermione settled into her chair, she found herself under the scrutinizing gaze of one Albus Dumbledore. Hermione felt the knot in her stomach get tighter. He wasn't smiling. He wasn't even twinking, for Merlin's sake.
Dumbledore took a deep breath, "Miss Granger, I recieved a letter from your parents this morning."
Hermione's eyes widened. This wasn't a good thing. It was more than enough to make her regret getting them that owl last holiday.
"It was a shocking read, to say the very least." Dumbledore continued, "I expected more from you. Much more." Disappointment dripped from every word.
"But Professor, It isn't as they say. I was-" Hermione argued, trying to force some reason into the grandfather-like figure in front of her.
"Yes, yes. I've heard all about it. Miss Granger, I do believe that it's time for you to take responsibility for your actions. Lying won't get you anywhere." the Headmaster chastised her.
Hermione looked incredulously at Dumbledore. "You mean, you don't believe me?" she choked out.
"Miss Granger, there is no evidence to support your "story"." Dumbledore replied.
"I'll use a pensive, veritaserum, anything. Just let me prove it!" Hermione exclaimed, lifting out of her seat.
"Miss Granger!" Dumbledore said sharply. "Please sit. Those measures would take time to get Ministry permission for, if they would even consent to allowing it, which is unlikely. As you well know."
And Hermione did know. Hermione knew she was royally screwed, no pun intended. Tears stung her eyes and her face became a picture of dismay. "Professor, isn't there something to be done?" she pleaded.
I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry in front of Albus Dumbledore.
"I'm sorry, Hermione." Dumbledore said softly, as if preparing her for a blow. "The Board of Govenors have already decided."
"Wwhat...?" Hermione asked shakily.
"I'm afraid I'll need your wand." Dumbledore said, holding out a wrinkled hand. His eyes looked apologetic, if anything.
But apologies wouldn't help her.
Hermione rubbed her wand, which was in her pocket. "But why?" Hermione asked. She knew, more or less. She just wanted to stall.
"Miss Granger, teenage pregnancy is highly frowned upon in the wizarding world. With the use of potions and charms, it's not a common thing." Dumbledore said sternly. "I'm surprised that you did not think to use such methods before it got to...this point."
Hermione's eyes glazed over unnaturally. Harry. Ron. Magic. Her life. All gone in an instant.
"Miss Granger?" A voice broke into her internal reverie. "I still require your wand."
Hermione pulled her wand out of her pocket. 9 inches. Cherry wood with a single unicorn hair. And in a few moments, in pieces.
With shaking hands, she gave her wand to Albus Dumbledore. Another apologetic look was thrown her way, and then, in one swift movement he snapped it over his knee.
It was the final bit. No longer able to hold back her tears, she leaned her forearms onto her knees, shaking silently with sobs. Her tears splattered onto the floor.
"What will I do now?" Hermione said despairingly, to herself more than anyone.
"I daresay you should go back to that Tom fellow." Dumbledore replied in a light tone.
Hermione looked up from the floor, directly into those irritatingly blue eyes. How could he do this to her? Anger bubbled up unbidden.
"I believe it's time for you to leave, Miss Granger." Dumbledore said, and it was more of a command than a request.
Hermione stood up, taking uneven breaths. She turned, and ran out of the office. Ran away from Dumbledore and his empty promises of protection, those infuritating morals of his, and those damn twinkling eyes.
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A/N: Changed the second chapter for you, explains Hermione's parents a bit better.
Let me know! R/R.
