Hey all! So recently, I've gotten really deeply into Harry Potter again, which is exciting! It's amazing do know that a book series that started around 20 years ago is still popular, while so many more have fizzled out. Anyways, I wanted to get back into writing, and not have to undertake the commitment of a long story. This will jus be a collection of stories based on prompts that I've found. I hope you enjoy!

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Hermione could barely suppress the groan that threatened to escape as she sat in the Slytherin common room, feeling like a lamb lead to slaughter by the looks of the eyes watching her. Nobody spoke, and the only audible noise was the soft crackling of the fire next to her place on one of the chairs set up in the room. She didn't need to delve into any of the students' minds to know that they all thought the same thing.

Mudblood.

You don't belong here.

Filth.

Scum.

Her companion, one Bellatrix Black, sat across from her, looking as amused as ever by the stares. Or maybe she just loved watching the mudblood squirm. Either way, Hermione would love to wipe that smirk off her face, interview be damned. The youngest black was no better than her housemates, and the student reporter held on to that fact like a lifeline.

No matter how charming Bellatrix Black, seeker of the undefeated Slytherin quidditch team and top of her class, could be, she was just like the others. They valued blood and ancient family trees above everything else, no matter who the witch or wizard may be.

Eventually, however, the Slytherin could tell the unwanted company was making the Gryffindor uncomfortable, though she'd never admit to it, stubborn little witch that she was. Bella sent the rest of the Slytherin's out with a wave of her hand and a well placed glare. They knew better than to get on her bad side after seeing how well she could wield a particularly nasty hex, one that made the target completely boneless.

Hermione seemed to relax as the last of the house filed away to their dorms, and turned her attention back to Bellatrix, her quill and notepad ready.

"So, Miss Black, how does it feel being the only woman on the Slytherin quidditch team?" She asked, refusing to look away from the dark eyes fixed on her. It felt like a challenge, one that she would not back down from.

Truthfully, she'd rather be anywhere else. As the head writer for the school's newspaper, The Hogwarts Herald, Hermione was hoping that she would be spared of the boredom that was quidditch. Blame it on being a muggleborn, but she never truly understood the appeal.

However, Professor McGonagall tasked the brunette witch with writing this story, and Hermione was not one to let down a professor. Least of all the one in charge of her house.

"No time for pleasantries, eh?" Bellatrix smirked, leaning back in her chair and sipping her tea. She'd conjured a black tea set after leading Hermione into the common room for her interview.

Truthfully, the seeker had no idea what to make of it. It was just yesterday that Hermione had approached her, and things were already off to a bad start.

!

"Bellatrix?" Hermione called out from the edge of the quidditch pitch.

It was the end of the day, and Rodolphus had, on a whim, called a quidditch practice. Bella's arms ached at the memory; they'd been out here for hours practicing, simply because Lestrange wanted to ensure a victory over Hufflepuff the following week.

Upon hearing her name, Bellatrix slipped away from the end of practice huddle and floated down to the ground. She dismounted her broom and let it trail behind her as she walked towards the muggleborn.

"Hermione, is it?" She asked, her signature smirk falling into place. While it was a shame she wasn't wearing one of her corsets, she was glad she was wearing her uniform, at least.

After all, didn't women love someone in a uniform?

"Err. Yes." Hermione didn't expect the older witch to know her name, being both two years younger and a 'mudblood'. It was a surprise, but not necessarily a bad one.

"To what do I owe the honor?" Bellatrix motioned for Hermione to follow her as she headed back towards the castle. If the rest of her team saw Hermione, the jeers and taunts would be enough to scare her away without Bella ever getting a chance.

Hesitantly, Hermione followed after, casting a quick glance at the other Slytherin's, who were still too caught up in their huddle to speak.

"The Slytherin's are on a winning streak that they haven't seen since Sirius graduated, and many believe that they have you to thank for it."

Bellatrix tried not to cringe at the sound of her older cousin's name being spoken. He was a twit. He really was.

"People will always talk. Whether or not it is true is for the listeners to decide." She replied evenly.

In all actuality, it was due heavily to Bellatrix's adeptness with her broom that the Slytherin's were winning. She even outmaneuvered Potter in the last match, snatching the snitch from him just as his fingers were about to close around it. It was a close game, but Bellatrix pulled it off.

"Regardless, your teammates acknowledge you as their 'good luck charm'." Hermione pointed out. "So I was wondering..."

"I am completely free if you wanted to grab dinner at Hogsmeade, yes." Bellatrix couldn't help but slide in, just to see if she could fluster the girl.

And fluster she did. Hermione's cheeks turned a bright pink, and she couldn't make eye contact for a solid moment or two. When she spoke, it was very carefully devoid of any emotion.

"That wasn't my question. I wanted to interview you for the paper."

Bellatrix was taken back. She knew that she was a good player, but she was never the one interviewed. It was always the team captain, Rodolphus, who would spend the entire time spouting bullshit about how 'Slytherin rightly deserves the cup' and 'It was made for purebloods'.

Personally, Bellatrix used to be very against any sort of mudblood learning magic. However, after coming to Hogwarts and seeing how the muggleborns worked twice as hard for half the credit, she wasn't sure.

"Well, I would love to, Miss Granger."

!

"To answer your question, madame, it's just fine. I have no reasons to complain; my teammates see me as 'one of the guys'." She replied, which wasn't completely untrue. Many of her teammates, like Draco, Crabbe And Goyle, saw her as an equal, though perhaps it was because Draco was her nephew.

Others, like Rodolphus, simply saw her as a vagina with legs, and did his best to leer at her in a way she was sure he thought was 'flirting', or to make sure that we knew her place.

After a particularly nasty fight, however, Bellatrix took care of that. She wasn't saying she tortured him, but she could safely say that a simple Muffliato could go a long way.

"So there's no sorts of animosity, or different treatment that you might get?" Hermione pressed. She knew it was different, being a woman herself, but she wanted to know if Bellatrix would admit this defeat.

"None." She said smoothly. "They acknowledge that I have gotten to where I am by putting in twice the effort, and they respect me for it. Not all Slytherins are misogynistic, you know."

Hermione furiously scribbled the answer down on paper before attempting to continue. However, she was stopped when her subject put a hand up.

"If you're to interview me, I want this o go both ways." The pale witch said.

Hermione's quill paused, and she looked up.

"You want to know about me? Why?"

Bellatrix shrugged. "Call it a fascination."

Granger gently placed her quill on the notepad, and neatly laced her fingers together.

"Fire away, Miss Black."

!

The two witches talked for hours, well into the evening. Slytherins came and went, shooting Hermione a dark look before Bellatrix 'coerced' them away from the two.

They talked about anything and everything, from life, their parents, their dreams, anything that came to mind.

Eventually, the topic landed on the tensions between purebloods and muggleborns.

"So where is your stance on this?" Bellatrix spoke evenly, taking a sip of her tea.

Hermione chose her words carefully. She had been having fun with the Slytherin, and couldn't remember a time where she had a conversation with someone who could keep up.

"Truthfully? I don't understand it. It's a lot like racism and homophobia. Why do people hate those who cannot change the part about them self most hated?" She replied.

"Furthermore, I think a true test of who a witch or wizard is shouldn't be from some old bloodline that takes years of tracing to figure out, but who they are as a person. It shouldn't matter who their parents were, or their grandparents, or their line. It should only matter what they believe in, and what they choose to do with their lives."

Bellatrix stirred her tea passively. "Spoken like a true Gryffindor." She said simply.

A moment of silence filled the room, as the two witches engaged in a silent stalemate with one another, neither one wanting to be the one that broke.

Eventually, Hermione gave in, wanting to see if she'd lost a friend she'd scarcely had with her words. "And you?"

Bella finished her tea and set it aside, and with a flick of her wand, the set disappeared.

"To be quite honest, entering into Hogwarts, I was the epitome of pureblood posh, as I've come to deem it." She chuckled, thinking back to her first year. It was a wonder that she didn't drown when it rained, with how high in the air she stuck her nose.

"But, after being in this school for seven years, and seeing the work that muggleborns do? It shook the very foundation of what I grew up on. I was always taught that I would need to marry another pureblood, or else my children would have weak, inferior mudblood magic. But seeing how far a muggleborn can come, seeing just how strong they are without the protection that being a pureblood gives, showed me that what I was told was a lie. That those born of muggle parents are just as capable of wizards and witches as those born of magical parents. A mage is a mage, no matter the lineage."She looked to Hermione, an unreadable expression on her face.

The writer was in shock. She'd heard horror stories about the bullying the Slytherins did to muggleborns, hell, she'd been on the receiving end of quite a few taunts and jeers because of it. So, hearing in person perhaps the most respected and feared member of the house going against everything it seemed to stand for?

It was a shocker, to be honest.

"Did I pass?" Bellatrix's voice called out, snapping Hermione from her thoughts.

"Pass?" She asked.

"Was this a trial? I was hoping to pass, if so. I hear the reward's pretty nice." Bellatrix smiled, not we signature smirk, a genuine smile that made Hermione's heart skip a beat.

"Oh? And what did you hear this reward was?" Hermione asked, a smile of her own forming, though her eyes held a mischievous glint to them.

"A beautiful female companion to accompany me to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" The seeker asked, playing innocent.

Hermione pretended to give it a thought, dramatically tapping her chin as she did so.

"I suppose...if you're willing to buy that beautiful females companion a butterbeer..."

Bellatrix's face broke into a full grin. "It would be an honor, Miss Granger."

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Prompt: Person A is part of their school's newspaper and is currently writing an article on the school's (insert sport of your choice) team. Person B is the star athlete and volunteers for A to interview them. As A asks B questions related to their team, etc. they get off topic and begin to talks about other things (your choice).

Thanks for reading! Truthfully, I haven't gotten much sleep, and I'm not quite happy with how this turned out. I feel like there could've been more detail, but what can ya do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I'd love to get your feedback, so reviews are more than welcome!

I'll leave you with a quick question: do you truly think Bellatrix, one of the greatest witches of her age and one of the best duelers in the wizarding world, could have died by Mrs. Weasley's hands?

Thanks again!

-Z