Disclaimer: I own nothing

My love is as a fever, longing still

The pain...

Slowly, slowly climbing up from it's origin in her forearm up and up, spreading until it wrapped it's merciless claws around her heart.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

Hermione's screams grew louder, building to such a deafening crescendo she could hardly bear to hear come from herself.

"Stop! PLEASE!" anything, she thought, I'll do anything. She couldn't take it anymore. Bellatrix cackled maniacally.

"Oh your blood really is filthy," She screamed in between bouts of laughter.

Hermione woke with such a strong jerk she nearly went flying off the edge of her bed. Her heart pounded nearly as hard and fast as it had that night, Bellatrix's laughter still ringing in her ears. She clutched her forearm tight, the tears streaming silently from chocolate brown eyes.

The sleeping girl next to her stirred. "Hermione?" Ginny murmured sleepily, blinking rapidly, "What-" before she could finish her sentence Hermione had flung her arms around her, suddenly immensely grateful for the bed they shared at Shell Cottage, and for Ginny's unexpected arrival. She hated waking from such a nightmare alone.

Ginny sat up, so she was in a better position to cradle Hermione. "Another dream?" the redhead asked quietly, for Hermione had one every night Ginny had spent with her since her arrival. She felt Hermione nod.

"It-it's never been like this before. I could feel it this time. And the scars burn, even now," Hermione had pulled away to look at Ginny as she said this. Wordlessly, Ginny drew the other girl's left, scarred arm to her lips and kissed it.

"There. All better" Ginny offered a smile, but it faded quickly at the look Hermione had in her eyes. "Hermione?"

Tears still streaming steadily from her eyes, Hermione kissed Ginny with a sudden and unexpected sort of desperation. If asked later why she did it, Hermione would only be able to answer that she felt she had to, she felt a sexual desire so abrupt and unexplainable she was left baffled and weak.

Ginny resisted for a moment, but Hermione wound her elegant fingers through her hair and kissed her with such intensity that the youngest Weasley couldn't help her belated enthusiastic reaction. She'd never been kissed that way before, not by Dean or even Harry Potter. It was several moments before she found the strength to softly push Hermione away, who looked hurt and embarrassed.

They stared at each other, Ginny thinking of Harry, and Hermione thinking, oddly, of Bellatrix. Hermione, blushing fiercely, scrambled away from Ginny and out of the bed.

"Where are you going?" Ginny asked.

Hermione was already halfway to the bedroom door, "I-I think I'll sleep better on the couch tonight," and then she was gone, the door clicking softly shut behind her.

XXXX

The next morning Hermione was roused from sleep much more peacefully than the previous night. This time, to the smell of waffles and syrup. She sat up, her hair a mess and her eyes still glazed slightly with sleep. Harry was sitting at the table while Fleur was cutting his waffles, and Bill was staring suspiciously at the toaster as he awaited the next pair to pop up. Harry was blushing at Fleur's kindness, but grinned at Hermione when he caught sight of her.

"Morning Hermione. What're you doing on the couch?"

Hermione was struggling for an explanation when Ginny appeared in the doorway and said, "Oh, I'm a dreadful snorer some nights, aren't I Hermione? You could've woken me and I would've taken the couch."

Their eyes met and an unspoken agreement to never speak of the real reason the couch was occupied passed between them. Harry laughed cheerfully, blissfully unaware, and Ginny's eyes dropped guiltily. Hermione traced the letters on her forearm absently, an action that was slowly becoming a habit.

The silence following Harry's laugh was broken by Ron stumbling down the stairs. "Is that food I smell?" he asked loudly upon arriving in the kitchen. And miraculously before entering the kitchen Ron paused to put a hand on Hermione's shoulder. He had been so gentle with her since escaping from the Malfoy's, it was very touching.

Conversation flowed easily after Ron's arrival, the only sense of awkwardness being between the two youngest girls. After breakfast though, Hermione was relieved when it reached that time of day where they had to continue their planning with Griphook. Normally she dreaded it, the planning day in and day out, it got rather boring, but today it came as a welcome distraction.

They were at it for hours without interruption, that is, before Fleur walked in and stood in the door way, looking at them all with poorly disguised curiosity. The conversation stopped immediately as all eyes turned to the slim blonde.

"I was wondering..." she began, clearly unsure of how to phrase her question, "eef any of 'ou know... you zee we're running out of supplies, and need somezing for dinner. And, you see, with ze invisibility cloak..."

It seemed very awkward for Fleur to ask the trio such a favor, but Hermione jumped at the chance to leave the house. "Oh! I would love to pick something up." she said. Harry opened his mouth to protest but she interrupted him, "Oh, honestly Harry, I'll be careful."

"But how will you pay?" Ron asked, "you're not thinking of stealing, are you Hermione?" he was smiling slightly at the idea.

"No, I'll... slip the groceries under the cloak and leave the proper amount of gallons on the counter. Perfectly legal."

Hermione was up already, and walked out with Fleur.

"I'll go get the cloak," Hermione said. She walked over to where her small beaded bag sat on the kitchen counter and fished for the cloak. Before she found it, however, her hand touched something cold and metal.

Bellatrix Lestrange's knife.

The first night the trio spent at the cottage, Hermione woke from sleep in the late hours of the night, after having a dream about Bellatrix that was perhaps just as terrifying as her nightmares of torture. She'd dreamt of pulling the strings of the older woman's corset loose, unhooking it and tossing it aside. She then continued to caress the lace on the top of her dress, her fingers brushing against the milky white skin of Bellatrix's breasts as she did so, before moving a hand to tangle in the unruly black curls to bring their faces closer together...

So, when Hermione had woken she could not control her desire to hold something of Bellatrix's in her hand. Her dagger. Hermione had slipped silently out of the house to retrieve it from where it'd be discarded at the shore. It had lain with ocean water lapping at the blade, not quite enough to pull it into the ocean. She'd been relieved it was washed clean of Dobby's blood, of any reminder of the life it had taken.

Standing now in Shell Cottage, Hermione slipped the dagger out and into her pocket quickly. Just in case she ran into any trouble. After she pulled out the cloak, she turned around to see Bill standing with Ginny in the doorway.

"Hermione, I was thinking you should take Ginny with you to Diagon Alley. Two is better than one, and besides, she really wants to go," Bill said, and Hermione looked at the eagerness in Ginny's eyes. She probably wanted out of the house as much as Hermione did.

After a moment's hesitation Hermione agreed. For some reason she couldn't place, Hermione was worried. She felt a strong sort of premonition that something bad was going to happen.

Oh, we'll be fine under the cloak, she reassured herself, I was never good at divination anyway. There's nothing that can go wrong, as long as we're careful.

Authors note: Did you love it? Hate it? Do you want me to continue, or trash it and never speak of it again?

I apologize if my writing's a bit rusty, I haven't had at it in awhile. I don't mind suggestions, just go easy on me please?

Anyway the title and the quote at the beginning come from Sonnet 147, by Shakespeare.

This is my last day before school starts up again and review would help ease my pain :)