"But luxury has never appealed to me, I like simple things, books, being alone, or with somebody who understands." - Rebecca By Daphne DuMaurier

Trepidation in a sense.

No.

Trepidation is what she felt when she kissed her husband for the first time when they were just school kids. Trepidation is what she felt when he first asked her how she felt about having a baby, which inevitably turned out to be the best decision she ever made.

This is what she felt when she sought comfort in a friend in an arguably questionable manner.

This feeling was pure unadulterated fear. Something with which she wasn't entirely familiar. Early life had made her hard, numb in a sense to those tender moments in which most are uneasy. Her father had indoctrinated into her that "Blacks do not fear that which they can control, and if you try hard enough you can grasp a semblance of control in any situation." Cygnus Black inflicted many things upon his children, and wife alike, but instilling a will to not only survive but thrive was the only thing he gifted them with.

"Mrs. Tonks?"

Andromeda was snapped from her musings, she had been staring blankly at her fire place for nearly five minutes without realising, though her muggle neighbour would have no idea she meant to use it as a means of transport.

Edna. Bless her. The elderly woman was tender and homely and more than happy to pop round to watch Teddy while she followed her daughter into battle; Edna was under the belief she had a book club meeting followed by dinner with a few members… gullible lass.

"Mrs. Tonks? You quite alright love?" Edna reiterated.

"Yes. Just got lost in my own thoughts is all. Are you sure you'll be alright? I'll be gone for quite some time and unreachable" Andromeda needn't correct her neighbour on the use of her married name, how would one explain the concept of snatchers and eugenics in a magical society to a muggle? Shaking the disconcerting thoughts from her head she snapped back to the matter at hand, focusing on her confusing feelings she harboured towards her departed husband would only serve to distract her from what she knew needed to be done.

"Yes, yes dearie! Of course! Don't fret now love, little Teddy here will be more than taken care of" Edna began ushering her towards the coat rack, rather urgently if Andromeda did say so herself. The small round woman plucked Andy's coat off the rack and spun her around to help her into the black hooded rain coat one arm at a time. "Now what was it you were reading this time dear? Great Expectations again? Never pegged you as a Dickens type, but I guess how could I tell?"

"Rebecca.." She almost whispered in response.

"What was that dear?"

"Rebecca" she stated with a little more confidence "by Daphne DuMaurier". Though she never took too much of muggle culture, Andy couldn't turn down a good read and DuMaurier's narrator resonated with her.

"Well thats nice then love; better head off then! Go on go on" Edna went on waving her hands as almost to say 'shoo'.

"Thank you Edna, truly" Andromeda place a hand on the elderly woman's shoulder; she never was good at intimate contact so placing her hand on the shoulder in front of her was the best way she could convey any sort gratitude.

Edna simply smiled warmly in return as she closed the door on Andromeda

"Merlin, here we go then." She strutted out in the grey streets of her small suburban neighbourhood. Twenty-five odd years at peace, she even laid low when it came to the Order and their business, if she had been a real member everything would've been finite, but here she was now throwing herself willingly into battle.

Reaching a small alley just a few blocks from her home she took a moment to lean against the damp red brick wall behind her, curls sticking to the wall deep breaths, deep breaths she told herself attempting to steady her shaking hands. Andromeda pulled her self away and slipped her wand out of her sleeve and into her hand. One. Two. Three. 'pop'

I'll create a diversion.

Meet me in the third floor bathrooms.

Make haste, for as we both know..

I'm rather temperamental when I've been kept waiting.

~ Yours Truly.

Meet her in the toilet?! What does she thinks going on here? A bloody carnival?! But make haste Hermione did, for she knew their victory in this war was riding on her complying with her rather petulant patient. Scoff.. Patient? Really 'mione where do you think you are saint mungo's? this is war focus.

Rounding the corner down a hallway on the third floor she stood outside the bathroom for the longest twenty seconds she'd ever lived through. Just as she raised her hand to push the door forward it swung open in front of her. Before Hermione could register her shock she was grabbed roughly by the collar of her maroon hoodie and dragged into a stall. As the latch slammed shut she found herself unceremoniously flung against the wall of the stall with offending fore arm pinning her there against her throat.

Pulse threatening to jump out of her neck, chestnut curls falling into her eyes, she managed cough out "Bella..aa..trix what-" cut off by aforementioned forearm pressing harder down on her throat she ceased her attempt to speak.

"This is not yet a conversation muddy." Bellatrix's breath was ghosting Hermione's face, leaving only millimetres of space between them. "Things are about to change and I need you.." she eyeing Hermione up and down she went on "dear sweet witch.. to become comfortable with the idea that things need to get a little more.. shall we say .. in-ta-mite between us." Bellatrix alleviated the pressure she was applying to the young witch's throat, though not entirely, and stepped back to give the girl room to respond.

"Merlin! You can't expect me to be inclined to help you if you're going to throw me around like chew toy!" at this Bellatrix's tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip as she simultaneously lifted a suggestive eyebrow. "ugh.. don't flatter yourself" letting out a sigh Hermione gestured to the limb hindering her movement "do you mind? I have a plan but I will only discuss it with you if I'm treated as your equal."

Bellatrix contemplated her words for a moment before removing her forearm from the long pale throat in front of her, but before Hermione could find her footing Bellatrix had her by the collar once more before slamming her back hard against the wall behind her again. Face, once again, only inches from her own the dark witch gritted out "now let's get one thing straight, girl, you are not and will never be my equal. I have no interest in indulging your petulant need to present yourself as martyr.. take this all as a grand gesture of self-preservation." She slowly released the young witch and took a step back, "Now. What's the plan then?"

Well well look who's back from the dead eh? I know its been three damn years but here I am with the first chapter of my revamped version of the Fickle Fingers of Fate. Please keep in mind dears that I do not have a beta. I really want to do right by this story and make it better than my first weak teenage attempt. Please review and let me know what you'd like to see this time around or what you enjoyed about the first version.