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
"Settle down, class, settle down. Now, for the remainder of the school year, we will have a guest within our class from Beauxbatons. She will be observing this class, and possibly others, as well as she has offered tutition to students, should they need it. Professor King, if you would please," Professor McGonnagle gestured to Hermia, who sat by the door to the classroom. She sat on a stool, in soft blue robes, with gold embroidery along the hem and up the skirts. The entire class turned to look at her, the gazes of thirty six students on her. Eighteen Slytherins and eighteen Gryffindors.
Hermia stood, tucking a loose strand of hair from her French Plait behind her ear, and smiling at the class. Draco looked at her, momentarily, before he looked back at his work. Hermione's eyes watched her, wide, as she walked round the four rows of three desks, each desk seating two-students. Hermione swore she knew this women. She had to, it was almost insane how much she recognised the woman.
"Hello class. I am Hermia King. Please feel free to approach me with any question you wish to ask," Hermia instructed, trying to be welcoming. The class just looked at her. After a few moments of silence, a hand went up. Neville Longbottom looked at her nervously. She sofetened her gaze as she looked at him, knowing first-hand how nervous he could be. "Yes, Mister Longbottom?"
"Er... why don't you sound French? I mean... if you are from Beauxbatons?" Neville asked, and Hermia blinked, not having expected that question. She stammered.
"Well... Mister Longbottom... I am originally from Britain," Hermia said, and Neville flushed, when he heard Draco laugh darkly. Hermia looked at him, and narrowed her eyes. Draco's lips turned thin and he looked back at his desk with shadowed eyes. "Is there anymore questions?" she questioned, her eyes going to Hermione for a breif second. When no one spoke, she nodded silently. "Very well. Please continue, Professor McGonnagle."
McGonnagle smiled tersly, and isntructed the class to turn to page 105 of their Guide to Advanced Transfiguration, and Hermia took her seat again, admist the quiet turning of pages, and the almost melodic Scottish tune of Minerva McGonnagle's voice.
At twelve fifteen, the lesson ended, and the class made to leave, heading for Charms. Hermia smiled at the students as they passed, yet couldn't stop herself from grabbing hold of Hermione's arm, preventing her from leaving. McGonnagle stood at her desk, tense and watching precariously. Hermione's eyes widened.
"Miss Granger... I just... I just wanted to tell you should you need anything, please, do not hesitate to speak to me. No matter what it is," Hermia told her, and Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, confused, yet nodded anyway. Hermia swallowed, then gave her a bright look, and allowing her to leave. Hermia sighed deeply, before she bid her goodbyes to Professor McGonnagle and began to head towards the seventh floor in search of the Room of Requirement.
"Professor King," she heard a familiar drawl, and paused in her stride to see Draco, dressed in a black turtleneck under a black blazer with black slacks, striding to her. She clasped her hands in front of her, looking at Draco gently.
"Mister Malfoy, do you not have Charms?" she asked, raising her eyebrows, and Draco shrugged carelessly, mumbling something under his breath which Hermia failed to catch. She rolled her eyes. "Well would you care to accompany me, Mister Malfoy?"
"Where?" he asked bluntly, and Hermia laughed, before replying 'The Room of Requirement'. The look of shock on Draco's face was almost hilareous, before suspicion covered his features. "How do you know about the Room of Requirement. You have only been here two weeks," Draco demanded, and Hermia tensed, her mouth pursing as she realised how stupid that was of her.
"I... well... I... What business is it of yours? I am not asking you to pry, Mister Malfoy, merely asking you to accompany me there. There is something I am having great difficulty finding and I believe it will be in the Room of Requirement," Hermia argued, acting defensive, and Draco asked 'What'. "A Vanishing Cabinet."
Draco seemed to pale even more than he already was, looking partly like a ghost as he stared at Hermia. The expression of horror was almost as equal as the Hermia had given Malfoy when he had turned up at her home with scars and a Werewolf bite. "Why... why are you looking for a Vanishing Cabinet?"
"I can't explain, I just need to see if it is there, it is important. However you do not have to come with me, if you don't want to, I am more than happy to go alone," she assured him, and Draco shook his head.
"No, I'll come," he said, his tone low, and Hermia beamed, saying 'Good' cheerfully.
Hermione felt sick. Not only did she feel sick, but she felt panicked. Her period? She had missed it. And her periods were as regular as clockwork. Every month on the Twenty-fifth to the thirtieth. It was the eigth of January. She had missed a period. It had been two weeks and four days since she had slept with Draco. Hermione shuddered and grimaced. She was not proud of her actions. Not at all, but she had been miserable, and then had panicked.
She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts and ran her hand through her mane of hair. It felt as if the day would never end. She had Astronomy as 8:30, until 10:00pm, and she had barely been able to eat her dinner. The food, as amazing as it was, turned her stomach. Her eyes had strayed to the Slytherin table, and she had saw that Draco wasn't there. Again. He never went to dinner anymore. She was also finding it increasingly difficult to stay even tempered, with Harry's brooding, Ron's annoying little girlfriend and the fact she could find ABSOLUTELY nothing on Horcruxes.
She just wanted to sleep.
Ginny Potter stared at Draco, who was sitting at their kitchen table, head in his hands. She had never seen him look so defeated in the entire time she had known him. It had been nearly three weeks since they had lost Hermione. And they had honestly know idea how to find her, any clue as to where she was or who would even take her to begin with.
Scorpius and Abraxus had stayed with Harry and Ginny while Draco had searched for her, and came up with nothing. Scorpius had worried. Abraxus had followed James around with avid fascination. Harry looked at Draco, Blaise sitting next to him with a hand on Draco's shoulder and Ron opposite Blaise next to Harry.
It was odd, the friendship the four men had. Ginny knew where it came from for Blaise. The three men had risked their lives to save him, and rescue him. He owed them his life, and even if the other three (maybe not Draco so much) never asked him for anything, he was ready to give them everything because of it.
Ron acted as if he still hated Draco and Blaise, yet it all seemed to be in good humour. They fought for the hell of it. Any animosity they seemed to carry towards one another seemed fake. Ron and Draco fought, would verbally abuse each other, yet no one else was allowed to insult them. Draco was family now.
Harry was generally forgiving of most things, apart from murder. He had warmed to Draco, and the two were actually quite close. It turned out they had some stuff in common. They were both rich, had war torn families and had grown up constantly pressured by the beliefs of those around them. They both had a fierce loyalty to their causes and their family, so naturally, when that family became each other, they became feircly loyal to each other.
Yet Ginny also knew the main reason why they were so close now. When they had been on their rescue mission, they had gotten captured. They had been tortured together, and all nearly lost their minds. Then, Cissady had locked them in a cage on the full moon, and took great glee in watching Draco tear their bodies to shreds before he had bit the other three. Once she had seen them bitten, she had had Draco tied, before pulling them out. They had had their wands, so they could defend themselves.
Cissady didn't want Draco to miss out on the pain.
That was why they always spent so much time together. They were a pack. And packs stuck together more than even families. Ginny shook her head, and looked over to the door of the kitchen, where James stood, frowning. The eighteen year old boy had Abraxus clinging to neck, the four year old confused.
He didn't really understand where his mommy was. He just knew she was away. She was always away. She worked at the big kid school. He always got to go and stay with her there. The big kids were fun. But his daddy never seemed this upset when she went away then, so it must be bad that she is gone now.
Hermia placed a palm on the dark wood of the Vanishing Cabinet, swallowing heavily. Draco stood quietly behind her, watching her with dangerous eyes, shadowed by dark circles under them, and fear deep in his heart. The dark magic that seemed to cause the wood to hum caused her to frown, and she sighed softly, dropping her hand to her side.
"Why am I here? I shouldn't be here," she whispered, so Draco was unable to hear her. She pondered it, staring at the Cabinet with blank eyes. If she was sent through the Matching Cabinet in Borgin & Burke's, then it should have sent her to the Cabinet in her Hogwarts, the future Hogwarts. What was she missing? There was something she was forgetting. Something really big.
She scowled and turned on her heel, kicking a nearby stack of books so it toppled to the dusty floor in anger. Draco looked at her, eyebrow cocked smartly, and she held up a hand. "Not a word, Malfoy. Seriously. Not a word," she ordered, and Draco nodded, slightly scared of the woman. She looked at the Cabinet again, before growling and turning, striding to the door with her head held high.
She was not the smartest witch of her generation for no reason. She would discover the Cabinet's secrets, and she would get home. Even if it took her a year, she would get home.
Draco looked at the Cabinet, and felt the Mark on his arm burn in response to the darkness that the Cabinet oozed. Gulping, and coughing to cover it, he gave the cabinet an uneasy, almost terrified glare, before following Hermia, thoughts of guilt and duty plaguing his young, corrupt mind.