Hermione finds herself crying for the first time in a while. She doesn't want to cry, knows the reason is stupid, but can't seem to stop herself. The pure pain that flashed on Bella's face when her aunt, her favourite person in the whole world, had cursed them out and called Bellatrix a traitor had shattered Hermione's heart. Bellatrix new what she was getting into, she tries to tell herself again and again but what if she didn't? What if she had never considered this side of their relationship? It hurts Hermione to know she is the one standing in the way Bellatrix's relationship with her aunt. So here she lies, curled up in bed and hiding under the blanket, with tears streaming down her face. Bellatrix had asked for alone time which Hermione understood. She needed time to process what had happened. But the young witch fears that this will be the last straw, the thing that will cause Bellatrix to finally call it quits. She knows it's uninventable, why would Bellatrix choose Hermione over her family? Over her beliefs? Over every damn thing she learnt as a child? Hermione's a Gryffindor – strike one. A mudblood – strike two. And someone her aunt despises – strike three. Hermione's out.
She cries herself to sleep that night in the cold bed, barely stirring when Bellatrix finally adds her warmth many hours later. She tries to apologise but merely mumbles incoherently before sleep claims her once again, her body drained from the emotional train wreck that was yesterday. Hermione's dreams are full of trying to hold onto an impossible weight, screaming voices and hatred-filled eyes.
In the morning Bellatrix is silent but not cold, which Hermione finds a small mercy. Perhaps this wasn't the end? Then Bellatrix refused to meet her eyes and the feeling of hope flees from her like a rabbit from a wolf. Hermione decides to make breakfast the muggle way, needing to do something with her hands. She had tried to drown her thoughts in books but the words kept blurring, her mind refusing to focus on anything else but her lover. So, Hermione cooks as she finds it one of the best ways to make her mind quiet. Bellatrix is somewhat aware of this habit but doesn't comment. She merely sits at their table for two and flicks aimlessly through that mornings Prophet. Hermione doesn't know what this means. Is Bellatrix giving her space or distancing herself so it will hurt less when the end comes? Hermione shakes the thought away and concentrates on cooking.
Merlin, Bellatrix has barely said a word all day but her sorrowful eyes have followed Hermione's every step. It's driving her nuts. Of course, this isn't the end. It couldn't be. Not after everything they've been through. It doesn't matter that she's had this fear since their relationship started nor does it matter that she's been clinging to their love with all of her might. She'd be fine. They would be fine. They always were, eventually. Bellatrix merely needed space to grieve her aunt. Yes, that's all. Space.
Bella, her Bella, finally acknowledges the situation as they are getting ready for bed. She clears her throat, sitting regally in front of their vanity mirror, and asks softly for Hermione to help with her hair. Hermione obliges, feeling that the conversation is finally here. Lead fills her veins when Bellatrix still refuses to look at her directly but she manages to robotically brush her hair. Once done Bellatrix materialises a chair next to her and turns to face it, dragging Hermione down to sit. Their knees touch.
"Firstly, I would like to apologise for yesterday. I should have expected that sort of reaction. I was just so-" Bella clears her throat again. "I was so happy she was back in town that I completely forgot she hadn't been around for our families change of view." Hermione merely nods, trying her best to keep her fear at bay. She knows it isn't the end but the 'what ifs' keep creeping up on her. Bellatrix reaches out and cups Hermione's cheek, who leans into the touch gratefully. "I'll love you no matter what, Hermione. Please don't take anything that," Bellatrix's face contorts in pain, "that vile woman said to heart." Bellatrix closes her eyes and takes in a shuddering breath. Hermione, the ache in her chest returning once again, places a hand on Bellatrix's knee.
"I'm sorry." Hermione says softly, looking down at her hand contrasting against such pale skin. Bellatrix's eyes open in confusion. "I know how-how much she means to you and I-" Hermione's voice cracks and she is ashamed to feel tears filling her eyes. "I'm just really sorry." This time it's Hermione's turn to shut her eyes as tears slip down her cheeks. She feels another hand cupping her cheek and Bella's warm forehead against her own.
"There is nothing to apologise for." She says firmly. "She is just ignorant and cruel. I merely looked up to her because she took no one's shit, which is very unlike a pure-blooded lady. That's what I wanted. Independence and freedom. Not being stuck as a house-wife." Bellatrix takes a breath. "And that's what you've given me, love. All that and more. What's one silly pureblood to that?" Hermione lets out a sob and opens her eyes.
"But you love her." She whispers, staring deeply into her lover's eyes.
"I love you more." Bellatrix leans in for a soft kiss which Hermione recuperates eagerly. Of course this wasn't the end. How could it be? Her and Bellatrix were made for each other.