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The Mudblood's Daughter and the Vanishing Cabinet
Hermione waited until the Thirty-First of January to decide that she should use the Pregnancy Potion she had bought from Hogsmeade on the Saturday trip the week before. Just in-case it had been a fluke, that she had missed that one period. She wanted to find out if she was pregnant before she attempted to apparate. She had read that it could cause miscarriage in early pregnancy. There was one horrifying story she had read where a woman had apparated, and she had left the baby behind.
She shuddered, before reading the instructions. She read the instructions carefully. If her uterus glowed white after three minutes, she was pregnant. If it didn't, she wasn't. She stared at the small vial of shimmering pink liquid. Sniffing it, she nearly gagged at the sickly sweet smell it had. Taking a deep breath, she tipped the vial and poured the potion down her throat.
She squeezed her eyes shut, as the thick, tooth-ache inducing sweet potion trickled down her throat, wincing visibly. She looked at her watch, and then stood to walk in front of the floor-length mirror, taking off her robe quickly. She pulled up her shirt, and stared at her stomach. Placing her hand on the flat flesh, she sighed, before looking at her watch. Two minutes to go...
"Hermione! You'll never guess... What are you doing?" Ginny asked, standing at the doorway. Hermione's eyes widened, and she stammered. Ginny slowly walked into the dormitory, closing the door behind her. Her eyes, sparkling hazel went from the small vial on Hermione's bedside table, to Hermione's exposed stomach. "Hermione...?"
Hermione's eyes began to fill with tears, and as the first one slipped down her cheek, her uterus began to glow, at first softly, and white, before it got brighter, causing Ginny to squint. Then, it subsided, and Hermione let go off her shirt, tears freely pouring down her cheeks. "Ginny...I made a really big mistake."
"'Mione... what? How could this happen?" Ginny asked, taking Hermione's hand, and sitting down on her bed with her. Hermione rambled, tripping over her words while Ginny listened, biting her lip. Then, when Hermione had finally stopped rambling and crying, and looked at her waiting for her response. Ginny stayed silent, and then stared into Hermione's eyes. "What are you going to do? You have to tell Malfoy."
"I can't! Ginny, he doesn't know that we slept together! Do you know what he would do to me if he found out?" Hermione sobbed, and Ginny pulled her into a tight hug, flipping her long straight orange locks over her shoulder. Hermione took a deep breath.
"What about Harry and Ron? Hermione, you have got to at least tell them," Ginny said, and Hermione pulled away from Ginny like she was on fire, her eyes wide.
"NO! Ginny, they cannot find out. They will kill Malfoy, and never talk to me again! You cannot tell them! Promise me you will not tell them!" Hermione begged. Ginny nodded rapidly, shocked by the desperation in Hermione's voice. Hermione felt back onto her bed, staring up at the canopy, placing a palm on her slightly rounded uterus. It was really only noticeable as she was on her back, and if you weren't to look closely she might just look a bit like she was a little bloated. Her jeans were digging into her side slightly.
"What are you going to do about Apparation? It's not exactly safe is it?" Ginny said sarcastically, and Hermione groaned, hitting her forehead with her hand, shrieking furiously. "I'll take that as an 'I don't know'."
Charissa strode through the shadowed, shriek-filled halls of Azkaban. She wore black robes, cinched in at the waist by a thick leather corset belt. A large hat shadowed her features, and her curls tumbled down her back. Idly, her eyes flicked left to right, icy-blue as she stepped over loose bits of rubble, breifly gazing behind the bar doors that held in the prisoners, their faces crazed, dirty and stribes robes torn and ratty. Screams echoed from the cells, and dementors swarmed around the outside of the building, waves crashing against the stone walls of the fortress.
"Cell 2036, open it," the gruff voice of the Auror who had accompanied her to the cell ordered, and there was a slow, mechanical creaking, before the bars began to recede into the stone. Charissa took a deep breath, maintaining a cool facade as she walked into the cell and the door rolled shut behind her.
She looked down at the slumped, greyish form of Lucius Malfoy. His long, pale hair was matted and dirty, his skin grey and sickly. His eyes were empty, devoid of all emotion. He didn't even seem to reckon her presence. She kicked him in the leg with the toe of her black lace-up boots. He groaned, and looked up at her. His eyes widened slightly, before they dulled and looked at the floor.
Looking over her shoulder, she bent down and grabbed his hand, pulling up into a standing position. He stumbled, and she held him up, scowling. "Pull yourself together, Malfoy," she snapped, her eyes icey. He looked at her. The contempt that Charissa felt shredded her normally good nature, and for nearly the thirtieth time, she questioned why she had agreed to help Narcissa get in contact with her husband, the man who had killed her father, his own brother.
"I have something for you. It's from Narcissa," Charissa told him, and she reached into some mystery pocket on her robes and pulled out a small hand mirror. An image of Narcissa was visible on it, her face worried as she looked into the mirror. "It's a communication devise. You can speak and see Narcissa through it," she explained, and he glowered at her. As if he didn't know what it was, he was an educated wizard, for Merlin's sake. Charissa looked up at the tiny window, grinding her teeth as she saw the Dementors that swarmed the sky.
"I am working on getting you out of this place. It's difficult to plead your case because you are a complete and total bastard, but I'm trying," Charissa said, and Lucius looked at her, surprise flitting across his features as he asked 'Why?'. Charissa inhaled deeply, closing her eyes before she looked at him, coldly. "Because Narcissa asked me too. And as much as I hate you, I can't let her suffer because of your mistakes. She loves you. And you being in here is killing her, so I am going to get you out."
Lucius fell to the floor with a thud, his eyes lowering, guilt filling him. Charissa looked down her nose at him, before she reached into her robe again, and pulled out his wand. "Use it to keep the Dementors away. If I find out you have escaped, I will kill you myself, understood?" She didn't wait for his reply, before she turned on her heel and demanded that they let her out.
Hermione woke up the next morning, her stomach swirling and nervousness gripping her. The sky, filled with purple-grey clouds spewed out unrelenting cold rain. She swallowed, almost fearfully, as she remembered that she had to go to her first Apparation lesson that Saturday morning. That was the only plus she could see, as wouldn't miss any classes. Unfortunately, she would not have the time to do homework. She didn't eat breakfast, even though Ginny tried to make her, and spent the rest of the morning before the lesson with Harry, careful to avoid his probing looks, and not to try and listen out for Ron.
She had figured out how far along she was. Six weeks. Her baby was half the size of a pea. Barely there at all really. She felt tears prick the corners of her eyes, at how this tiny little, half-pea was going to change everything in her life. Tears pricked her eyes and she unconsciously placed on her womb, over her robes. She suddenly felt eyes on her, and turned her head to see Harry looking at her, worry laced through his emerald eyes. She immediately moved her hand, and gave him a shaky smile. "Are you okay?" Harry asked.
"I'm fine, Harry. We're going to be late for the lesson, come on," Hermione brushed him off, standing and walking from the Gryffindor Common Room to the portrait. Harry sighed, before he followed her, knowing she was right. They walked in silence, Hermione not wanting to talk, and Harry not wanting to start a conversation and have Hermione mad at him, as that seemed to happen a lot lately. The enchanted ceiling was filled with dark, swirling clouds, and rain attacked the large windows of the Great Hall. All the tables had been removed. Candles lit the hall, to replace the light that had been denied them by the sun. The Heads of the Houses, McGonnagle, Snape, Flitwick and Sprout, stood at the far end, with a pale, wispy wizard who looked as frail as Hermione felt.
She looked at Harry out the corner of her eye, and was grateful to see that he was sufficiently distracted by the wizard. She released a heavy breath, and tried to focus on what Twycross was saying, yet found her mind drifting again. She tuned out of what he was saying, not really caring which was odd for her, and placed her palm softly on her stomach in an attempt to ease the nausea that was coming over her. She only began to pay attention again when she noticed everyone was moving.
Harry began to move away from her, and Hermione, against her better judgement, felt panic rise up in her at him leaving her. She tried to follow him, but stopped, when she saw where he was going. Desperate, she called out for him, yet it came out more as a demand with the panic in her voice sound more like anger. "Harry, where are you going?" she called. She looked around her, feeling claustrophobic all of a sudden, trapped, and she grabbed McGonnagle's arm as she walked past.
"Professor, I can't do this," she whispered, and McGonnagle's eyes widened as she saw the panic and fear that filled Hermione's eyes. McGonnagle asked 'Why' softly. Hermione looked around, to see no one paying attention to them, probably assuming that she was just asking what book to read about Apparation, like the know-it-all she was. "I'm pregnant," Hermione breathed, and for a moment, she was unsure if McGonnagle had heard her, before the woman let out a surprised gasp.
McGonnagle pursed her lips, and had to fight down the disappointment that rose in her at her young students words, and instead to on the girl's desperation and fear. "Do not try to apparate, just spin. Come and see me after the lesson," McGonnagle instructed, and Hermione nodded, thankfully, releasing her grip on McGonnagle's arm. McGonnagle turned and walked up to the front, whispering something to Twycross, who looked over at Hermione momentarily before nodding. McGonnagle moved away to the side, with the other House Heads. Twycross gave her a sad look, before he began to talk about the three D's of Apparation, Destination, Determination and Deliberation.
He instructed the to fix their mind on their destination, the interior of their hoop. Hermione found this oddly easy, considering, and realised how peaceful it was, to just focus on one thing, instead of thousands at the same time. She barely heard the next step, which was Determination, as she let her mind focus completely on this hoop. When she heard Twycross say 'spin' she looked up in surprise, as he gave them the instruction to spin on his command. Her eyes widened, before seeking out Harry, who was looking around as well. When Twycross began count down, Hermione took a deep breath. When he got to Three, she spun.
And nearly threw up. Her hand went to her mouth, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the rise of bile, forcing herself to swallow. When they had to retry, retry and retry again, she was only able to stay standing for a minute before she had to sit down because of dizziness. Her head pounded, and when a series of pained screams erupted, her head spun. She looked over to see Susan Bones from Hufflepuff missing a leg as she hopped around in her hoop. As the Head's of Houses swarmed her and reattached her legs, Twycross explained Splinching, something that made Hermione pale even more.
Then... they had to spin again. An hour later, and Hermione was nauseous, tired and just wanting to stuff herself full of turkey and stuffing and potatoes. But instead, after being sarcastic to Ron, she went to Professor McGonnagle's office, as she had been instructed before the lesson had begun. She knocked on the door, and heard a 'Come in' in response. She opened the door and looked in to see Twycross, McGonnagle and Hermia all sitting around McGonnagle's desk, each one with an equally serious look on their faces. She approached the desk cautiously, her eyes going to Hermia who had an odd look on her face, before she sat down on the chair offered.
"Miss Granger, I... I honestly do not know what to say..." McGonnagle sighed, at a loss for words. Hermione could almost see the waves of disappointment and sadness that rolled of the woman. Hermia placed a hand on McGonnagle's shoulder, and gave her a small smile, before she sat on the desk opposite Hermione.
"Miss Granger... Hermione, I understand what you are going through. I myself have been through it. Trust me, no one here is mad at you, we just want to make sure you stay well and healthy. I assume you have not yet been to see a Midwife?" Hermia asked, and Hermione shook her head, slightly dumbfounded. Hermia gave her a gentle look. "Would you like me to organise you an appointment with one? I assure you that she is very good, and will be there for you no matter what your situation."
"You would do that?" Hermione asked, and Hermia nodded. The look on her face was so similar, that Hermione found herself even more mystified by how recognisable it was. Hermione released a shuddery breath. "Thank you... I had no idea what I was going to do," Hermione told them, and Hermia placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to give her some comfort. Hermione suddenly knew where she recognised this woman from. This woman was like her own mother, in nearly every feature. She looked like a Hallows Witch, in her nearly every feature. Hermione frowned to herself. She knew there was no way her mother would be as accepting of this pregnancy, than Professor King.
Almost as if she knew what Hermione was thinking, Hermia then mentioned her parent's. "You aren't ready for people to know, are you? You haven't told your mother, or father?" Hermia stated, rather than asked, because she knew. She had been in that exact position. Hermione swallowed. "You need to sit your Apparating test. Mister Twycross, is she able to continue with the lessons if she is pregnant?"
Twycross looked slightly shocked, but nodded. "Yes, it is very rare for someone to misplace a foetus when Apparating. She should be fine, as long as she tries her hardest," Twycross replied, and Hermione gave a relieved sigh, thankful. She needed to know how to Apparate.
"Miss Granger, I would also advise that you tell your friends. You will need their support to get through this, trust me," Hermia instructed, and Hermione looked at her, before biting her lip and agreeing with her. Fear and doubt pooled in her stomach, adding to her nausea, and turning her skin a sickly green colour. Hermia noticed, and released a heavier breath. "You are excused. I will send you an owl for when I have organised your appointment."
Hermione stood, and gave her a queasy smile. "Thank you."