AN: Please Read and Review.

The Mudblood's Daughter and the Vanishing Cabinet

Hermione had to admit, that when she found out that Harry and Ron would be able to leave the Hospital Wing first thing the following Monday Morning, she was ecstatic. Not only that, but her morning sickness was finally gone, now she was nearing the end of her first trimester, eleven weeks and four days. However, the good mood was dampened by Ginny and Dean arguing the night before. Ginny had been so angry she had gone right to bed after the argument. The plus side was that Ginny was so preoccupied with being mad that she was not treating Hermione like a piece of expensive china.

She put her arm through both the boys, beaming at them happily, leading them to the Great Hall for breakfast. "Ginny and Dean fought again last night. It was horrible. They kept the first and second years up, and then Ginny slammed all the doors on her way to her bed. She refused to come out again for the rest of the night."

"What did they row about?" Harry asked her, and Hermione had to stifle a laugh at the sound of the casual tone he was trying to adopt, and failing. She looked at Ron, who was completely oblivious, eating a Redvine from Hermione's last packet, which she had given him because she had ate the ones she had gotten for his birthday. Hermione didn't mind. She had three tubs of 240 Redvines at home. They turned the corner into a seventh-floor corridor.

A tiny girl, holding heavy brass scales, who had been staring at a tapestry of trolls in tutu's stared at them in terror, and the scales slipped from her hands. The clattering was deafening. Hermione immediatly hurried forward, giving the very small girl a kind smile. "It's alright, here," she tapped the scales with her wand and said 'Reparo'. The girl was silent, watching them with terrified eyes as they left her in the corridor

"I swear they are getting smaller," Ron said, and Hermione shook her head, laughing to herself, while Harry tapped her arm impatiently, eyebrows furrowed over his emerald eyes.

"Never mind her. What did Ginny and Dean row about, Hermione?" Harry persisted, and Hermione shrugged, before responding that Dean had been laughing about McLaggen hitting him with a Bludger. She glowered at Ron when he said 'it must have been funny'.

"It was not funny at all, Ronald Weasley! It was horrifying! If Professor King hadn't caught him with a Wingardium Leviosa, Harry could have been terribly hurt!" Hermione reprimanded, hitting Ron on the harm. Harry had to admit he was surprised when Ron didn't argue back, just gave her a soft look and put an arm around her shoulders, giving her a half-hug.

"Yeah, well, there was no need for Ginny and Dean to split up over it," Harry guessed, still trying hard to be casual and failing. "Or are they still together?"

Hermione gave him a sharp look, and put her hand on her hip. "Yes, they are - but why are you so interested?" she asked, knowing perfectly well why he was interested. Harry quickly made an excuse, but Hermione continued to give him her special 'I-know-better' glower. Harry looked anywhere but her face, when his eyes stopped on her robes.

"Hermione, have you put on weight?" he asked, trying to change the subject. Hermione blinked, before tears bean to fill her eyes. Harry's eyes widened. "No, I just mean... you look bigger! I mean..." he tried to stop but Hermione sniffed and began to cry. Ron shook his head, smirking and said to Hermione that she looked great. Hermione looked at him, asking 'Really?' and he nodded. Harry looked at them, was suddenly really grateful when a voice called his name, giving him the excuse to look away.

"Oh, hi Luna," he said, smiling crookedly at her. She beamed back dreamily.

"I went to the hospital Wing to find you," Luna said, rummaging around her bag, "but they said you'd left..." She thrust what appeared to be a green onion, a large spotted toadstool and a considerable amount of what Hermione and harry surmised to be cat litter into a surprised and amused Ron's hands, finally pulling out a rather grubby scroll of parchment that she handed to Harry. Hermione inched away a little, slightly nervous of dirt. "I've been told to give you this."

It was another invitation from Dumbledore for a lesson. "Tonight," he told his two best friends. Hermione smiled blissfully.

Harry, for however much he was being distracted by so many other things, noticed there was something different about Hermione. She seemed... softer. Happier. At first, he just attributed it to her being friends with Ron again, but as he looked at her more, she seemed distracted as well, not by Ron, but by something else.

Her hand was almost always resting on her stomach, which Harry found odd, and she agreed to look over his Herbology Essay that afternoon, a peaceful look on her face as she did so, casually correcting his mistakes, even though she knew Harry was going to let Ron copy his essay. She was just... quiet and mellowed. She was just so... happy.

Hermione just smiled and crossed out some of his mistakes when he told her he had to go, not noticing when he looked over at her briefly on his way out when he got to the portrait, and Ginny came to sit next to her. Hermione looked at her. "Are you doing homework? Is that someone else's, Hermione I told you not to do anyone else's homework! You might overwork yourself."

"Ginny, I am just looking it over for Harry, not doing it for him. Now, is there something you needed, other than to question me about doing other people's homework?" Hermione asked, making sure to smile so Ginny knew that she was just joking with her. Ginny however didn't smile back, looking at Hermione sadly. Hermione swallowed, suddenly worried. "What? What's happened?"

"Have you seen the Daily Prophet today?" Ginny asked, and Hermione shook her head slowly. Ginny looked away from her, over to Ron, before back at Hermione. "Hermione, Cassandra Hallows died last Saturday," Ginny said slowly, and Hermione tensed, her jaw falling slightly. "Charissa did a press conference on it yesterday. The funeral is on Saturday."

"She didn't tell me. She didn't even owl," Hermione said, her eyebrows furrowing and a look of confusion on her face. "Why didn't she owl me?"

"Look, Hermione, I know you don't want to hear this, especially seen as she is your cousin, but she is a bitch. She only cares about herself, she only thinks about what she can get out of something and she treats everyone like they are dirt. Sure she is polite, but it's all a farce. She wouldn't talk to any of us properly when she was here from Beauxbatons. Do you really find it that surprising that she didn't tell you?" Ginny told her, and Hermione frowned, looking at Harry's homework.

"Hermione, Charissa... she's Slytherin. Cold as ice and ready to take anyone who gets in her way down. You know this," Ginny insisted, and her friend shook her head, looking at her.

"No. It's an act. She isn't that cold, Ginny. You just don't know her," Hermione stated, and Ginny sighed. Hermione didn't see what Ginny saw. Ginny knew people like Charissa. So rich that they thought it made them better than everyone else, and acted like they were even more superior than everyone around them, like they had more authority.

"Okay, okay... so, when is your next antenatal appointment?" Ginny whispered, keeping her voice low. Hermione sighed, replying 'Saturday'. Ginny smiled. "Are Ron and Harry coming?" she asked, and a guilty look passed Hermione's face. Ginny groaned. "You haven't told them!"

"I've told Ron... but Harry is so busy, and I never get the chance to talk to him alone," Hermione shrugged, as she finally finished marking Harry's homework. "I'll tell him soon, I promise. But for now I think you and I should just go and see Louanna alone. If the boys come... it would attract attention, and we cannot let anyone find out. It would put us all in danger." Ginny exhaled sadly, looking at her friend, and who gave her a miserable look in return. They both sat in silence, before Ginny took a deep breath, and smiled.

"Oh well, at least we have a valid excuse to go shopping now," she beamed, and Hermione looked at her, before laughing.

Charissa sat opposite her headmistress Olympe Maxime, in the silky pale blue robes that were the Beauxbatons uniform, her hair pulled into a ponytail at the base of her neck, curls framing her face and her hat firmly slanted on her head. She sat ramrod straight, her shoulders back, and her face shadowed as she listened to Olympe talk, the large woman trying to be soft, yet also failing. "Miss Hallowz, it iz of ze greatest importance vous feel well eenuff to come to school. Eef vous feel it eez to much to deal wiz, I will have vous courzework sent to vous at ze Mansion, if vous wish."

"Madame Maxime, with all do respect, I believe it would be best if I return to my education. I have dealt with the matters that needed to be dealt with, and am ready to return. I can assure you that my emotions are fully under control, and will not affect me in any way," Charissa explained. Olympe shook her head, looking at one of her favourite pupils with something akin to pity in her eyes. Charissa pursed her lips at the sight of it, sitting straighter, if it was possible.

"Miss Hallowz, it would be understandeeble if vous feel unready to return. Vous haz just lost vous une grand-mere. No one expectz vous to return eemediatly. Vous are allowed to grieve for her. Vous loved her a many deal, and it eez understandeeble if vous are upset by her passing," Olympe assured her. Charissa nearly laughed at how wrong that statement was. She didn't feel anything. She just felt empty. Emotions were a weakness, and got in the way of duty. And her duty was to get her education, and continue to run the Empire. The Empire was all she had left, and even if it kelled her, she was going to make sure it ran as smoothly as it always had done.

"I am perfectly able to cope with anything, Madame Maxime. I have grieved, for a long time, and it is now unnecessary for me to continue grieving. It is best if I just continue with my life. There is nothing else for me to do but that," Charissa explained, her voice flat, and empty. She was telling the truth, as well. There was nothing else for her to do, no point for her to do anything else. Sadness and grief were luxuries now, that she would no longer allow herself to entertain, just as happiness and love. If in the end, she always lost something, what was the point of holding onto anything other than what she still had? Olympe studied her for a moment, before she gave her assent.

"Very weel. Vous may rejoin vous clazzmatez, Miss Hallowz," Olypme told her, and Charissa gave a curt 'Merci' nodding her head once, before she stood and walked from the office of the Beauxbaton Headmistress, pride and solidarity in her every step. Olympe shook her head sadly, sadness for her student filling her. The girl had lost so much, she was now immune to it. Such immunity, was a terrible thing to have, and could cause the most pain, more than even death and loss. The numbness that she knew Charissa could feel was only supposed to last a short while, yet in Charissa it just seemed to have let it dominate her, and Charissa couldn't care at all that she had let it.

Charissa had just given up fighting to be happy, fighting to feel, and just stopped. Stopped feeling at all.