"I wasn't always this way, you know," Bellatrix snapped. She cast downward her eyes; she seemed suddenly fascinated by her fingernails, and refused to meet Hermione's eyes. "I was happy once," Bellatrix said quietly, almost to herself, her voice twisting the words happy until it sounded like anything but. "Mind you, that was a great many years before you were even born." Hermione had to work to keep from rolling her eyes at Bellatrix's darkened tone, knowing the older woman was trying scare her off. Years ago, Bellatrix's menacing tone might've succeeded in frightening Hermione, but now she only saw it as being heart-rending. It made Hermione wonder what Bellatrix had survived to leave her feeling threatened enough to believe she had to be so harsh. With the uncomfortable sensation of walking a tightrope, Hermione picked her words with immense care.
"When...were you happiest, Bellatrix?" she asked, doing her best to keep the curiosity out of her voice, her words layered instead with deep affection and tenderness. Bellatrix shifted, finding the kindness of Hermione's tone strange and altogether foreign. Suspicious, she looked up to meet Hermione's patient gaze with a defensive, piercing stare. Bellatrix was surprised when Hermione didn't drop her doe eyes, impressed - despite her best efforts - with the headstrong young woman.
"In my fifth year. It was simpler then, away from my parents and before... Well, before. That was the first year my sisters and I were all at Hogwarts together. By the time they had both arrived at Hogwarts, I had established quite the reputation, so no one ever dared to mess with either Andromeda or Narcissa," Bellatrix explained with a smirk that was almost, almost a genuine smile. Hermione was surprised that Bellatrix had mentioned Andromeda, and had to remind herself that this was before the middle Black daughter had been disowned.
"Well, that was only fifteen years before I was born - I wouldn't say that's 'a great many years,'" Hermione said impishly, her words softened with a small smile. Bellatrix was startled by the girl's humor, and snorted in amusement.
"And tell me, my dear, how old were you when I turned forty?" Bellatrix challenged, raising an eyebrow wryly.
"Um... ten?" Hermione replied, embarrassed and sounding apologetic.
"Geez, that makes me feel like an old woman," Bellatrix grumbled, a faint frown appearing on her face. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Oh, please, Bellatrix," she said, her tone dripping with exasperation.
"'Oh-please-Bellatrix what?" Bellatrix demanded, her slightly annoyed voice bordering on tolerant, her body significantly more relaxed.
"Come on! You are almost criminally sexy, and just insanely gorgeous," Hermione answered, as if stating the most commonly known fact. Bellatrix blinked in shock. Does she truly see me that way? she wondered, in awe.
"Did you just call me criminally insane?" Bellatrix asked with an indignant huff, to cover up how touched she was by Hermione's words.
"If that's what you want to get out of that, be my guest," Hermione retorted, willing to play along. She knew and accepted the fact that Bellatrix wasn't one to say 'thank you;' in fact, she rather doubted the raven-tressed woman even knew how. Both women fell into an effortless silence, each of them mulling over their conversation.
"Have you not been happy since then?" Hermione asked softly, her voice abruptly full of sadness. It took awhile for Bellatrix to answer, and when she did, her voice was heavy, the light gone from her black satin eyes.
"No," she replied with brutal honesty. "The year after I fell in with the Dark Lord, and Andromeda started seeing that mudblood..." Bellatrix trailed off, glancing sheepishly over at Hermione, who was surprised that Bellatrix showed the least little bit of remorse over using the offensive word in front of her. "It was exhilarating at times, and the power was...reassuring. There were exquisite feelings, but no, happy wasn't one of them." Hermione felt a physical pain in her chest at the older witch's admission. Once she was able to wrap her mind around the fact that Bellatrix had even given an honest answer, she did what she always did, and tried to make sense of what she'd just learned. This beautiful, tormented woman hasn't felt happiness in thirty-five years, Hermione realized, her heart breaking. Bellatrix shifted uncomfortably; Hermione knew how exposed Bella felt right now. She yearned to provide her with some comfort and reassurance, however little. Hermione hesitantly moved closer to Bellatrix, fully aware that the dark woman was capable of causing her a great deal of pain and unsure of how she would react. Dark eyes cautiously tracked Hermione's movement, but Bellatrix did nothing to stop her. Holding her breath out of sheer nerves and not wishing to startle the defensive woman, Hermione very slowly wrapped an arm around Bellatrix's shoulders. Bellatrix was stiff in Hermione's tentative, one-armed embrace for what seemed an agonizingly long time, though realistically it was at most one minute. At last, Bellatrix responded to Hermione's gentle, yet persistent caress, her hand slowly rubbing Bellatrix's shoulder. With a sudden gasp that was almost a sob, Bellatrix let go, turning into Hermione's warm body, hiding her tear-streaked face against Hermione's chest. Hermione enveloped Bellatrix in both arms and pressed her lips against Bellatrix's wild black curls, while Bellatrix's fingers curled against the soft of Hermione's neck.
"You're safe, Bella," Hermione promised in a fervent whisper, rocking the smaller, crying woman in her arms. "You're safe."