AN: Please Read and Review, I know that the Mudblood's daughter saga must seem never ending, and you just want it all to be over by now, but it's still nice to hear your opinions...

The Mudblood's Daughter and the Vanishing Cabinet

Hermione rushed towards Harry, Ron and Ginny, pointedly ignoring Ron and calling out Harry and Ginny's names happily. She was still cold from having just run from Hagrid's, and knew her face was dreadfully pink. She quickly explained that she had got back a couple of hours ago, and that she had been visiting Hagrid and Buckbeak, before asking them how their Christmas was. When Ron started to reply to her question, she cut him off, acting completely ignorant to his existence. "I've got something for you, Harry. Oh, hang on - password. Abstinence."

The Fat Lady mumbled something weakly, and swung open to let them in. Hermione had to prevent a wince, as every time she was confronted with the red and gold hangings of the Gryffindor Common Room she felt guilty for her betrayal with Malfoy. Harry asked what was wrong with the Fat Lady, and Hermione couldn't hide the eye roll that she gave as she explained just what the Fat Lady and her friend Violet had done during the Christmas Holidays. "...drank their way through all the wine in that picture of drunk monks down by the Charms corridor. Anyway...

She blew a stray cur from her mane of hair out her eyes as she dug through her pocket, before handing Harry the letter with Dumbledore's almost illegible scrawl on it. She stopped listening when Harry started talking, looking instead at Ginny who was eyeing her suspiciously. Ginny hadn't been able to have a proper conversation with Hermione since the Slug Club Christmas Party, and she had been unable to corner her afterwards because Hermione had disappeared to her parent's home for Christmas. Hermione knew that at some point in the very near future, she was going to get cornered by the red-head.

There was a sudden shriek of 'Won-Won' before Lavender Brown suddenly appeared, latching on to Ron with a vice-like grip. Snickering could be heard all around, making Ron's ears started to turn pink, and Hermione laughed, gesturing to a nearby empty table. "There's a table over here... coming Ginny?" she asked, and Ginny, who was watching Ron and Lavender with a frightfully disgusted look shook her head, responding that she was going to meet Dean, her tone miserable as she did so. Hermione gave her a comforting look, squeezing her hand softly, before Harry led her to the spare table, sitting her down and then sitting opposite her.

They went through the normal motions of 'how was your Christmas' and Harry trying to convince her to talk to Ron again, before he explained what he had overheard after Slughorn's party. Hermione could feel her stomach start to twist, the familiar feeling of guilt tormenting her mind as Harry told her exactly what he heard. Her guilt was what made her try and defend Snape, not Draco, because that would have just made Harry suspicious. She had to admit it, when Harry said it was proof Malfoy was up to something. However she knew she could defend him when Harry bought up Voldemort.

"Hmm... did either of them actually mention Voldemort's name?" she asked slyly, her eyes flicking away from him and staring across the room, deep in thought. She didn't look at Harry, not noticing the frown as he tried to remember. When he argued that Snape had said 'Your master' and there was no one else it could be, she bit her lip nervously, and responded it could be his father. Her chest ached, and she rubbed it slightly, to ease the pain. "How's Lupin?"

Her attempt to change the conversation topic failed when Harry bought up Fenrir Greyback, and like the know-it-all she was proud to be, she reminded him of just how they knew who Fenrir Greyback was. After another debate against Draco's innocence, Harry declared that she as going to be proved wrong just like the Ministry, and finally told her about visit from Rufus Scrimgeour. Hermione bristled, and instantly began admonishing the Ministry in disbelief, Harry nodding in agreement.

"You know, you never told me what happened to you after the Party," Harry said, after a bit, and Hermione tensed, her eyes leaving his face and going to the fireplace, where Ginny was sitting alone staring into the ember flames. "Hermione, if it was something bad, I have to know. You're my friend, I was worried about you," Harry cajoled her, appealing to her emotions, and her sense of friendship. Hermione scowled at him, before she released a heavy breath.

"Harry... I know that you are worried, but please give me time. I still have some thoughts that I need to process, and until I have, I can not share them with you," Hermione said, and Harry sighed, before nodding.

Hermia (she grimaced, thinking of that name. Not that there was anything wrong with it, she just HATED it) had to remind herself how to breath, when she looked at the aged, warm form of Albus Dumbledore. Tears pricked her eyes, and before she could stop herself, she had wrapped her arms around the man, hugging him tightly.

Dumbledore rose an eyebrow, but patted her back gently with his good hand. He was tall, his hair and beard silvery and white. His robes were long and purple, and he wore a rainbow coloured cloak. His boots were buckled and heeled, like always and his eyes shone softly as he looked down at the top of Hermia's head. When Hermia finally stepped away, she wiped her eyes and apologized.

"It is quite alright, my dear, you seem to be rather out of sorts," Dumbledore asked, his larger, frailer hand clasping Hermia's, as he guided her to his desk and the chair opposite it, setting her down in it. Hermia still couldn't process that Dumbledore, actually alive, was standing in front of her, smiling kindly at her.

"I..." she couldn't form any words, she was just completely amazed and seriously overwhelmed. He chuckled, before sitting in his chair, looking every bit the great Wizard he was.

"Minerva has informed me of your situation, Mrs Malfoy," Dumbledore said, looking at her from over his half-moon spectacles. Hermia released a sudden heavy breath, thanking the lord that Dumbledore knew that she wasn't supposed to be here. He had to be able to get her home, he just had to. "However, Mrs Malfoy, as smart as I am, I have no way of rectifying the situation."

"But, Professor! I have to get home, my son... My husband, he will be going out of his mind!" Hermia exclaimed, at a loss of what to do. Dumbledore's aged face immediately adopted a concerned, comforting expression. It was the one her father used to give her when she was upset. "I miss my family, my friends! I know what is going to happen, yet I can do nothing about it, because it could change everything!"

"I am glad you understand that, Mrs Malfoy. Unfortunately, I have not got the time to help you find your way back home, but, you are welcome to use any of the schools resources in you search," Dumbledore assured her. "However, should you need any advice on any other matters, or simply a kind ear to talk to, Mrs Malfoy, I am always here to offer a shoulder for you to lean on."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermia said slowly, yet she made no move to leave his office, still staring at him. Dumbledore cocked an eyebrow, before saying 'Mrs Malfoy?' imploringly. Hermia bit her lip, but couldn't help herself from blurting out what she was trying to stop herself saying. "Don't trust Snape!" Her eyes widened,and she covered her mouth. Dumbledore's lips thinned slightly, and he shook his head, sighing deeply. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. "I am so sorry, Professor... and I know I should speak of what is to come, but you can not trust him. I beg off you, don't."

"Mrs Malfoy... Hermione... I trust Severus with my life. He has never given me reason not to. I insist that any accuasion you feel to make of him, you think heavily on it, and understand my reasoning for it," Dumbledore placated her. Hermia bristled, and stood gallantly. Her temper may not have been as epic as Ginny Potter's, or as sharp as Draco's, but when she was mad she was a fore to be reckoned with. Her eyes flashed, and she put her hands on her hip. As always, when she got frustrated, her hair started to bush out and thicken.

"I am not a child, Albus Dumbledore. I am forty years old. I am in no possible way a child. I have spent the last twenty-three years thinking of your reasons for trusting that... snake! Yet for the life of me, I cannot figure out why you would do such an absurd thing! Harry always tells me that I should be more understanding of Snape's plight, yet I refuse to believe that someone like he was good. Someone who could kill you could never possibly be good!" she ranted, and Dumbledore inhaled gently, before standing, and walking around his desk to her. Even as an adult, he still towered over her. He placed his hand on her shoulder, his withered hand down at his side.

"Mrs Malfoy... please be calm," he chided gently, the twinkle in his eyes having faded a slight."I am under no impression that you are a child, Hermione. In fact I am proud to see the person you have become. Yet I implore you please, no matter what you feel you should do, or change, you will allow events to run their course. It is for the greater good that you allow things to happen the way they are meant to."

"I have no choice in the matter, Professor. If I change anything, my existence, my family, could be affected, if I make a mistake, I could lose everything in my own time, so please, don't give a speech about changing things, when I already know it is impossible," Hermia said, dejectadly and her eyes left his face, and went to the floor. Dumbledore nodded, understanding the womans plight. "Excuse me, Professor... I must go and get some sleep, I am tired."

Even though he could sense the lie behind Hermia's words, he allowed her to leave, bidding her good night. She gave him a fleeting smile, before walking from his office, her white nightgown and fuzzy pink dressing gown swishing around her as she did so. She made it down the corridor from the Gargoyle, and around the corner, when she very nearly ran into Draco Malfoy.

Looking at him was almost painful. His face was pale, pointed and unscarred. Beautiful, even with the fear that seemed to prevail in his silver eyes. It was odd to see him without the scars, and looking so young. The scars were a sign of who he was in her time. He wasn't there yet. He eyed her. "Who are you?" he sneered.

Hermia swallowed and narrowed her eyes on him. "I am Professor King, and who are you?" Hermia asked, trying to be sharp. Draco's expression was one of a grimace, and with a tone of self-importance, he replied 'Draco Malfoy'. Hermia eyed him. "And should you not be in bed? It is after hours, Mister Malfoy."

"I was talking to Professor Snape. You can ask him if you want," Draco sniped, and Hermia gave him a small smile. Draco tensed, and Hermia let the smile fall, to take a more somber expression.

"It's okay, Mister Malfoy, I trust your word," Hermia said gently. Draco furrowed his eyebrows. "However, I must insist you go straight to your dorm. You never know what may lurk in the corridors at night, or the pranks Peeves is waiting to unleash upon unsuspecting students. I shall walk you, if you wish?"

"I know the way to my own House Dormitery, Professor," Draco said coldly. Hermia nodded, saying 'Of course'. Hermia watched him, as he turned to leave and stride away. However, he paused, and looked back at her before sighing deeply. Hermia gave him a comforting smile, which he had to fight not to return. "Would you like to walk with me, Professor?"

"I would be delighted, Mr Malfoy," Hermia whispered, and she walked by his side in the direction of the Slytherin Dormitery, in complete silence.