A/N: This is a preview for a potential fanfiction I'm working on where years after making an Unbreakable Vow Hermione ends up on the run with Bellatrix. I was hoping to see who'd be interested and if anyone has suggestions. This kind of scene would be later on, but hopefully gives a glimpse of some of the subject matter it would involve.
The cave was small and well-hidden as well as difficult to reach physically. With the added protection of Hermione's spells she felt it was pretty much unreachable for anyone looking for them. Squeezing through the crack that served as an entrance, she levitated enough firewood behind her to keep them going through the night. She barely spared a glance at the woman she was hiding with, the now familiar angle of a body crouched in her periphery. So far Bellatrix had been very unhelpful in every way. It was almost as if she wanted to get caught, or at least missed the limelight.
"Where's dinner?" The hiss of a voice held a hint of a cruel smile. That woman enjoyed using Hermione as her personal slave, but it no longer bothered the younger witch like it had at the beginning of their journey.
"I've eaten," Hermione said, setting the branches and logs in a neat pile away from the entrance. "If you're hungry, go catch your own food. It looks like rain, so you better hurry."
She could feel the glare burning into her back, but she ignored it. It was getting easier and easier to ignore everything the ex-death-eater had to say.
"If I die of hunger, you'll pay." It was meant to sound threatening but it just came across as childish.
With the patience of a mother, Hermione replied. "Perhaps if you helped with the fire or the casting I would've had time to find you something to eat."
A snarl curled Bellatrix's lips to bare her teeth. "And what did you have that you couldn't share?"
Without batting an eyelid, Hermione poked at the small fire burning in the middle of their cave. "Fish. Raw."
This brought on a look of revulsion to the older woman's pale face.
"My animagus is an otter," Hermione reminded her as she seated herself against the opposite wall, "it tastes fine when I'm in that form."
"You disgust me, Muddy."
The name no longer bothered Hermione who looked out of the crack at the darkening sky. "Well, my stomach is full, isn't it?"
It didn't just look like rain- it seemed like a full blown storm was approaching. Despite the thinness of the entrance and the tree cover outside wind still managed to whip inside, threatening to kill the fire. With a sigh, Hermione pointed her wand at their only source of light and warmth and cast a spell she hoped would keep it going through the night. Outside, trees were bending to the will of the weather and the sound of the river not far from there was louder than when they had found this nook.
Bellatrix had her knees pulled up to support her crossed arms with her chin resting upon them. Her eyes glinted dangerously at Hermione and her lips moved. A curse, maybe? Or was she just talking to herself like she did sometimes? It was often difficult to tell.
"What was that?" Hermione asked, opening her bag to pull out a blanket.
"I said another night like this and I might just eat you, you imbecile." Even the sneer that once would have sent a shiver down Hermione's spine did nothing.
"You ate this morning. You didn't expect five-star accommodations and three course meals when you pulled me out of my life to go on this bizarre escapade, did you?"
"I expected some respect from you, twerp."
"I'd show you respect if you earned it, Bella." Bellatrix hated that the muggle-born had taken up using that nickname.
While her handbag was open, Hermione slipped a hand in and dug through the contents until she found the very last of the oat slices and held it out towards the other woman, maintaining eye contact despite the poison directed her way.
"Say please, Bella." Teasing her too much was still a little dangerous, but Hermione knew that Lestrange wouldn't survive without her.
"That's it? That's all you have in your little bag?"
"If you don't want it," she began to put it back, but Bellatrix was already on her feet.
Faster than the lightning flashing outside the grey, angled woman was in front of her, snatching the food out of her hands.
"That's the last of it, so don't cry to me about breakfast tomorrow."
Even towering above her now, Bellatrix didn't intimidate her.
Hermione examined the escapee from below. Thin as a blade and just as sharp, she seemed disjointed and certainly malnourished. Even her skin was too pale despite how long they spent in the sun. Her hair, black with newer streaks of silver, was so messy it was a bird's nest of tangle.
The woman turned away to devour the snack, halting only for a moment when thunder cracked the sky as if it were a mountain.
"We got fed better in Azkaban," she snarled when she finished, but she said that after nearly every meal.
It was impossible to tell when or whether the sun had set, the sky was so crowded with black clouds. Hermione predicted they had been there for maybe three hours, sitting across from each other, the fire bright but not nearly warm enough for the cold night. She looked up from the book in her hands, one she had read seven times so far, and studied the other woman, looking for some hint as to what she was thinking.
She was curled into herself, not so much circular as hexagonal, and by the fire that flickered between them Hermione could tell she was shivering. Of course she was. Wind was still washing through the cavern and there was no fat on her bones to keep her warm, just the long black robes that seemed to help little.
With a sigh, Hermione stood up and took the thick blanket she had wrapped around herself in one hand. Bellatrix didn't look up, her eyes trained on a bug writhing on the stone floor.
"You're cold," the younger witch said, holding out the blanket.
"I don't need your pity, Mudblood." She crushed the insect with a fist.
"You don't need to catch a cold, either." She sighed again.
When Bellatrix made no move to take the blanket, Hermione put it over her shoulders anyway. This act of kindness seemed to snap something in Lestrange and the woman tore it away from her, springing to her feet with a rare agility. Startled, Hermione stumbled backwards a step only for the other woman to round on her, teeth glinting white. She stood her ground and kept her gaze steady. Bellatrix had no wand, no knife, while Hermione's wand was in her pocket for self-defence. Still, the taller of the two moved so close Hermione could feel her breath coming through her teeth and when a hand shoved her backwards, she fell into the wall. Still, her face remained calm.
This kind of aggression was a regular thing and though she knew she could defend herself, Hermione hoped that letting it happen would get it out of the other's system.
"You think I need you to baby me?" Bellatrix barked. "You think I need you at all? The only reason I even made that deal with you is because my sister is soft. And now you think you have some kind of power over me, acting like you're better just because you have that ginger boy toy and a job at the ministry, treating me like scum. Like a child. Like you could ever hope to be like me."
Hermione was already backed against the wall, so the next shove was like being punched in the ribs, the breath kicked out of her. She straightened up again and looked Bellatrix in the eye.
"Bella, you made the deal. You called on me when you were in trouble. I left my job, my home, my friends, Ron, to keep you out of harm's way. I don't like it any more than you, but I'll be damned if I leave you alone to rot away alone."
Lestrange really did look terrifying now, but Hermione's hand still remained at her side, wand in pocket.
"I. Don't. Need. You."
Hermione wanted to lash back, to point out that without a wand Bellatrix needed her to hide them from the aurors, to find food and shelter, to take them one place to another, but she didn't. Despite everything, she could tell the death-eater was scared (of being caught, of Azkaban, she wasn't sure) and she hadn't just made that pact, she had promised Narcissa to do her best.
"You're not going to scare me away, Bella."
The older witch's eyebrows furrowed as her lips twitched uncertainly.
Hermione sighed tiredly. "Are you done?"
Without a reply, Hermione raised her hands so she could sidle around the completely still woman and return to her place. Bellatrix remained statuesque for a minute or two before she place her hands flat on the wall and in one move banged her head against it. Hermione jumped, but when she went to rise, the witch was taking her own place on the rock floor. A trickle of blood ran down between her eyes, but she picked up the blanket and wrapped it around herself.
When she was sure nothing more would happen, Hermione pulled out a second blanket, scratchy and only a fraction as warm as the other. It was good enough.
It looked like Bellatrix had finally fallen asleep, lying on her side, still and silent as the howling of wind and rain carried on outside. Hermione watched as rain fell into their cave forming a long triangle that almost reached the fire. She whispered Bellatrix's name until she was satisfied that she was, indeed, dozing. From her unending handbag she pulled out a scroll of parchment and an inkless quill.
The parchment was already bewitched, something Hermione was quite proud of. It had taken some practice but the spell was on par with the Marauders' Map so that anyone who didn't know the password would never be able to discover what it said. If anyone tried to reveal the writing, it would reveal false information.
She wasn't sure what to write exactly, the letter intended for the youngest Black daughter, Narcissa Malfoy. She couldn't say everything was going swimmingly, although she was fairly sure they were safe from any outside danger. In the end the letter was short and formal, indicating in code their approximate whereabouts, the state of their survival, and most importantly how Bellatrix was faring. Intent on ensuring her sister's safety, Mrs Malfoy had Hermione swear to write twice a week and in return she sent them money, necessities, and any information on the hunt for Lestrange.
She had just finished sealing the letter in an envelope when Hermione became aware that she was being watched.
A smirk decorated Bellatrix's face as she propped herself up on an elbow.
"Writing to your Ronny-Poo, Muddy?"
Hermione hadn't had any contact with Ron since she had faced off with him in Knockturn Alley. The last memory she had of him was his pleading face, begging to understand why she was doing this, why she had taken her torturer's side. Of course she couldn't tell him about the vow she had taken in Malfoy Manor in return for their safety. Instead, she hexed him and took off without an explanation. She missed him and the very mention of his name made her hurt and it showed.
"Oh, do you miss your little weasel boy?" The smirk was widening. This was the first time in weeks any of her goading had gotten a reaction out of Granger. In a false concerned, sickly sweet voice she carried on as she pulled herself up, dragged herself closer to watch the pain flitting on the younger one's face. "Tell me what you miss about him, poor little Muddy." When Hermione said nothing she continued, "Do you miss breaking his little fragile heart? No? Do you miss kissing his ugly, freckled face and his voice telling you all about how he loves you despite that ugly scar?" Nothing but a gritting of teeth. Bellatrix pouted. She had crawled close enough that she could see every facial tick, every narrowing of the eyes. "What about his dick? Oh, there we go!" Finally, Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, her mouth agape for a moment before she pulled herself together. "Tell me, Granger, what do you like about it? Is it this big?" She held her hands apart and with her face glowing with amusement she widened the gap until a blush broke out on Hermione's cheeks. "Oh, so he's a big boy! And what do we do with big ginger cock? Do you suck it? I bet you do, Granger. I bet you like to be on your knees. Does he return the favour? Hmm?" Something flashed through Hermione's eyes and she swallowed quickly. "No? I suppose a boy like him wouldn't know what to do with a little muddy cunt even if it came with instructions. Has his big cock ever satisfied you? Ever made you come?"
"Stop it." Hermione's words were meant to be strong, but they wavered. She didn't like her talking about him like that, about sex like that. About anything like that and it showed which was why she would have to endure it for another month unless she bit back. "I suppose sex with Rodolphus was just perfect for you."
Something in Bellatrix hardened at the name for an instant and immediately Hermione regretted saying it.
"He had me like a real man has a woman."
There was something in that sentence, the lack of wit or jibing that made it sound dark with something left unsaid. Hermione shivered. Realising she had let on something, Bellatrix shifted her expression, but the grin didn't reach her eyes.
"Maybe one day I'll show you what real satisfaction is." Gleaming eyes soaked up Hermione as though she wasn't wearing three layers of clothing. To finish her torment, Bellatrix threw herself close enough to make Hermione flinched and snapped in her face like a dog before laughing, but still, Hermione could see something deeper.
Bellatrix returned to her side of the fire and lay down facing the wall.
Rattled, Hermione unsealed the envelope she had put beside herself and added an extra question.
PS. What was Bellatrix's marriage like?