AN: Please, please review :( I know you all love the story, but I'm running really low on motivation. My Granddad has just died so I may not be updating as regular as I have been lately.
The Mudblood's Daughter and the Vanishing Cabinet
If Ron had ever been worried about Hermione before, he definitely was now. She was sitting quietly, not even nagging him to study, her face pale and drawn. He didn't understand why. She was eighteen weeks pregnant. She wasn't even throwing up anymore, and it was getting warmer and sunnier. He didn't understand why she seemed so upset, but he was worried.
Hermione didn't want to talk about it however, and instead focusing her energies on studying and the Apparation test. She had gotten her clothes from Gladrags, which she was thankful for because it was definitly noticable she was pregnant. She had put on fifteen pounds, and because of how short she was her stomach was lovely and round, like a volley ball or a dodge ball was in her stomach. Of course it wasn't so much as a soft ball, but a rock hard one, and shaped slightly like an oval.
"Mione? Are you okay?" he asked, and Hermione looked at him, slightly surprised. She hadn't been expecting him to notice her mood. Ron never seemed to notice anything really, other than food. "It's just, you've been weird for the last month, and I dunno, it's sort of bugging me now. So what's wrong?" he questioned. Hermione looked slightly offended at his word choice, and even Harry was raising his eyebrows at Ron. It was an almost unwritten law that you were nice to a pregnant women. And you never told them that they were 'bugging you' no matter how moody and irritating they had been.
"Really, Ronald? Well I am so sorry to have been an inconvenience to you and your 'feelings'. I shall try so not to 'irritate' you any further," Hermione snarled sarcastically, her emotions once again on edge. Ron held his hands up and Harry opened his mouth to try and diffuse the sudden situation, only for Hermione to turn on him as well. "And why am I the only one being targeted, huh, Ronald? Harry is being just as cantankerous as I, yet you do not call him out on his mood. No, you just question your pregnant friend, who's emotions are so unstable she nearly threw herself off a tower!"
Ron's eyes widened, and Harry looked horrified at the admission she had just given in her small rant. Hermione covered her mouth with her ink stained hand, looking at the two boys fearfully. Harry spoke first. "You did what! Did you lose your mind? Hermione, why would you do that?" Harry demanded, and Hermione sniffed, before glaring at him.
"Oh, I don't know... Let's see... I'm pregnant and seventeen. Oh, and my parents are going to disown me when they find out. Our exams start soon and I have been far too busy to revise, my grandparents are both dead yet my cousin doesn't care enough to even send me an owl asking how I am! My best friend is in constant threat of death, and my other best friend isn't even bothered with revising for the N.E.W.T's and Ginny is driving me absolutely mental and for Merlin's sake would someone PLEASE get me some pickles!" Hermione told them. She took several deep breath, before wincing slightly and placing her hand on her stomach over her robes. Harry frowned, setting his book down and moving closer to her.
"Are you alright? It is the you-know what?" he asked, worried, and Hermione gave him a strained, slightly embarrassed smile as she replied that it was just indigestion. Harry looked relieved, while Ron looked slightly confused. He mouthed 'What's indigestion?' to Harry, and Harry mouthed back 'Gas'. Ron looked at Hermione surprised.
"You need to fart?" Ron said, a little too loudly and causing some of the other Gryffindor sixth years in the Common Room to look at them, each with different expressions. Hermione flushed brightly, the tips of her ears turning red and ducked her head, hiding behind her book. Ron winced, when Harry hit him in the arm, shaking his head and laughing to himself. "What? What did I say?" Ron asked, looking between his two best friends obliviously.
Charissa knew she was getting odd looks. She didn't respond to them in any way, nor the statements asking her about her feelings, not even from her friends. Eventually they would give up. She was sure of it. It was inevitable. The girls she knew where not at all known for their staying power. Quite the opposite really. Charissa scowled unpleasantly, when she realised just how she had found out that her friends were not as staying as she had thought. She scowled even more so, when she remembered just who had even less staying power and her grip tightened on her bag.
Aldric Daivat... she snarled quietly at just the thought of his name and quickly shook her head, wiping his face from her mind. He didn't deserve her thoughts. Not now, not ever. Instead her mind drifted to the family she had but wanted to forget, her Uncle Lucius and Aunt Narcissa. She had helped Narcissa, because the woman had been so miserable that she couldn't help but not. Getting Lucius out of Azkaban had not been easy, after all he was a convicted Death Eater, but she had done it anyway.
As she walked down the gloriously decorated corridors of Beauxbatons, she paused when she saw a mirror and her reflection in the mirror. Frowning, she took a step closer. Her jaw dropped slightly, as she stared at her reflection. Her eyes were dark, with shadows under them that couldn't be covered by make up. She was pale, more so than normal, and undeniably thinner than she should be. Her silken blue uniform seemed to hang off her form, and her hair was lifeless. The normal voluminous curls were lank, and straggly, despite being tied back. She looked dreadfully awful.
Stepping away from the mirror, she turned and continued on her way. How had she let herself become so ghastly? How had she not noticed how much her appearance had altered? Her emotions may have died, but apparently they still showed on her, revealing how exhausted and drawn she was. Tears unconsciously began to prick her eyes. She was so tired. So very, very tired. She just wanted to get some sleep. She hadn't slept since her grandmother died. She furrowed her eyebrows, and shook her head. Now was not the time to complain about how tired she was. She had revision to do.
Reaching into her bag, she pulled out one of the many potions she carried, the bright label reading 'Invigoration Potion - will make you feel more alive than ever, and sure to wake you up!'. She uncorked it, and downed the contents, not wincing at the foul taste as she had drank the same potion repeatedly over the last few weeks. She never bothered to read the side effects. It was pointless. Charissa would keep drinking them anyway, despite what the side effects were. She needed them.
Her energy restored, she shivered as the potion cause her to suddenly perk up, and flipped her hair over her shoulder, running down the corridor. She had a letter to write to her cousin. She hadn't sent her one in ages, and it was about time she did.
"Miss Hallows," a voice called to her, just ahead of her and she blinked, seeing Albus Dumbledore standing in front of her, a familiar old smile on his aged face. She stared up at him, in surprise of his sudden appearance. His robes, as always were bright and colourful, depicting a silver forest on a orange canvas, with purple birds flying over it and a gold sun at the different stages of the day above a blue moon. His glasses balanced precariously on his crooked nose and his white hair was tied back, his beard braided down his front and tucked into his belt. She tucked her bangs behind her ears, and actualy smiled at him.
"Professor," she greeted, bowing her head slightly out of respect for the legendary wizard. When she looked back at him, she saw uneasiness stirring in those irritatingly twinkling blue eyes of his. Her stomach dropped. He was going to ask her to do something. She knew he was going to ask her to do something. People just couldn't leave her alone. They always wanted something. She sighed, her shoulders slumping as her slight bout of happiness at seeing him passed and was once more replaced by the empty sadness that constantly plagued her mind. "What is it you want, Albus?"
The use of his name, while seen as odd by others, was not uncommon for her. Because of his ties with her family (he was her second cousin four times removed, or something like that), she had known him most of her life. However, now she was older, it was the most irritating thing to admit, because it meant he was able to ask her favours if he needed her help with something related to his Golden Trio. Dumbledore managed to look at her both pleasantly and sheepishly.
"Miss Hallows, it seems that I am going to need you at Hogwarts in due course," he told her, and Charissa turned cold, stepping away from him with narrowed eyes. He wasn't at all phased by this, glowing down at her in that rather creepy way he could.
"I apologise, Professor Dumbledore, but that is not possible. I am enrolled here at Beauxbaxtons, and I have no intention of changing that any time soon," Charissa responded, stoic, holding her chin in the air defiantly. The look on Dumbledore's face was one of sympathy and silent understanding. Yet it left no room for her argument, as he shook his head.
"Then I must also apologise, Miss Hallows, for you have no control of this decision. It was in the wills of your grandmother and grandfather that upon both their deaths, you would be transferred through to Hogwarts for your safety," his words were like blows to her, but she refused to let it show. Even after their deaths, they were controlling her life... It was almost as if they were not gone. She pursed her lips, glaring at the floor before looking back at him with icy-blue irises.
"Do I not have a choice in the matter? It is my life, is it not? How is it fair that I be moved, especially right before my exams?" Charissa questioned, her eyebrows furrowed and fist clenching around her bag strap. The sympathy in Dumbledore's eyes was almost overwhelming, and she bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself snapping and shouting at him. This wasn't his fault... this wasn't his fault. The thought repeated through her mind, yet she could stop the anger that bubbled.
"I am sorry, child. However this must be done, for your own safety and the safety of those around you. The situation has already been discussed with Madame Maxime, she has granted permission for the move and the transport of your possessions to Hogwarts."
"I really have no choice? This is ridiculous and unfair. I do not want to be involved in your war, Albus. You can not do this to me," Charissa argued, her temper blazing. Dumbledore sighed, and placed his long, pony left hand on her shoulder. She fought the urge to shove it off, looking away from his eyes.
"Please do not think that I want to do this, Miss Hallows. I understand your reluctance to come to Hogwarts, but I have no choice but to take you," he told her softly, and Charissa inhaled slowly, her breaths shuddery. She swallowed her anger and looked at him. Dumbledore smiled at the resolve in her face, as she nodded, before Charissa felt that familiar, sickening pull of disapparation.
Hermione frowned to herself, as she though about what Harry had told her only five days before during Charms. Horcruxes truly sounded horrible. However, she was pleased that Ron and Lavender had finally broken up. It put a lot less stress on her. She ran a hand through her hair, and jumped when a sudden weight planted itself onto her shoulders. Looking up, she saw Ron grinning down at her, unabashedly. "Hello 'Mione," he said happily pulling her closer to him and squeezing her slightly.
She rose her eyebrows. "I'm not doing your homework, Ronald," she stated dryly, and Ron laughed, rolling his blue eyes. Hermione scowled at him. "What do you want, Ron? And can you please move your arm, I am already carrying enough weight around, I don't need yours added to it." She was being serious as well. Eighteen weeks pregnant was no easy feat. She felt massive. It may only have been an added weight of fifteen pounds, but she looked like she had ate a melon and her ankles felt like they were going to give way under her. It was a good thing she had already sat her Apparation Test that Monday, otherwise she would have been dead on her feet.
Ron moved his arm, a frown on his face. "Are you feeling alright? If it's too much you should lie down or something," he suggested, and Hermione bit her tongue to stop herself pointing out that they sitting down, and she couldn't lie on her back anyway. The two were in the Gryffindor Common Room. Lessons for the day had just finished and Hermione had wanted some peace so while everyone else had gone outside to enjoy the sunny April afternoon, she had secluded herself up in the Common Room to get some quiet. Although, it was nice to see that Ron cared enough to come find her.
"No, it's fine... I'm just in need of some quiet that's all. What was it you needed?" she asked, and Ron grinned again. Hermione nearly frowned at that grin. That grin normally meant she was going to have to do something she really didn't want to. Most likely his homework.
"Can't a guy come see his best friend without having some sort of task to ask?" he questioned, a slightly mocking pout on his lips as he continued to beam at her. hermione felt herself becoming more and more irritated, and glared at him. Ron exhaled dramatically, and then grinned at her. "Fine, fine. You know that potions essay that we have to have done by tomorrow?" he asked, rhetorically and Hermione gaped at him. She had finished it on Monday, when it had been given out. It was a five piece of parchment essay.
"Ronald! It's due tomorrow! How could you have not done it by now?" Hermione gasped in disbelief, and Ron chuckled nervously, shrugging. Hermione shook her head at him, in fake disappointment, yet she was so used to this she could only feel a little irritated at him. "Have you done any of it?"
"I did the introduction, but then I got confused..." he trailed off, a blush staining his freckled cheeks. Hermione bit back a grin at the adorable expression of embarrassment on his face. Impulsively, she ruffled his flaming hair, causing him to look at her with raised eyebrows. "So can I borrow the essay?" he requested, and Hermione nodded. Ron grinned broadly, and hugged her tightly, causing her to whimper as her bladder was crushed slightly and she had the incessant urge to pee again.
"Ronald... pregnant, remember?" she mumbled, and he let her go quickly, his face and ears bright red. He said 'sorry', and she waved it off, before holding her hand out to him. "Help me up. My essay is in my bag," she stated. He looked at her with a goofy expression, before he leaped to his feet and hoisted her off the couch they had been sat on.
"Merlin, 'Mione, you ain't half got heavy."
Hermione's eye twitched.