A/N: This is my first HP fic, so go easy on me please. Oh and tell me what you think
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any characters.
Prologue
The sky was the blackest it had ever been when Albus Dumbledore had ordered Hermione Granger to his office. Stars were sparse but what few remained in the heavens shined bright. Albus had foregone dinner, deciding the matter at hand was much too great to disregard. He had sent a note via student to Hermione minutes ago about the urgent meeting along with the password to get into his office. All that was left to do was wait.
"You wanted to see me Professor?" Hermione inquired, stepping cautiously into the room.
"Ah, yes Miss Granger," he smiled, soothing her nerves. She hadn't frequented his office as much as Harry, so it came as a pleasant (or not so pleasant) surprise to her when she received the parchment requesting her presence. "Sit, please."
She complied choosing to sit in the chair that faced not only his desk but Fawkes the Phoenix's cage. He sat there, with his magnificent red and gold feathers and stared at Hermione inquisitively. She matched his gaze with equal fascination before Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"Hermione, you were with Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley the night of the battle in the Ministry correct?" His twinkling eyes were the only indication that Hermione was in no trouble.
"Yes, professor," she nodded. "I was with the others. You saw me though didn't you?"
"I did indeed Miss Granger," he smiled. "You fought valiantly. I must say your skills were far above the others you were fighting along side with."
"Thank you, sir," she blushed, averting her eyes to the whirring, silver contraption sitting on his desk.
"But that isn't what we came to discuss, your skills are key, yes, nevertheless I brought you here in hopes that you could assist the Order."
Hermione's brown eyes widened in shock, this wasn't at all what she had expected him to say when she had set foot into his office tonight.
"I'll do my best, professor," she gazed back at Dumbledore.
"As glad as I am to hear you utter those words, I'm sure you want to hear what you are in fact helping the Order with?" he chuckled.
"I suppose that would necessary?" she nodded with a small smile playing at her lips.
"You know of the Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange, yes?" he asked. She flinched, the memory of Sirius's death still fresh in her mind.
"I do, yes," she couldn't help the bitterness and anger that escaped with those few muttered words.
"Ah, I suppose this means you hold the same feelings towards her as Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley?"
"How could I not, she killed Sirius!" she exclaimed, jumping from her seat. "She tortured Neville's parents and killed others. Of course I have the same feelings towards her just as Harry and Ron do. Though I'm sure Harry's are on a much larger scale."
"Indeed his are," he agreed, ignoring her loud outburst. "Sirius was the only family he really had. I wouldn't consider the Dursley's family…more of a convenience. And to lose that so early on, it's a wonder how he's still functioning."
Hermione nodded, but kept silent. Her eyes wandered over the many books and items lying around in his office. What caught her eye in particular was a shallow, stone bowl in the corner of the room. It was grey and cracked in some places but it seemed to hold her attention the longest.
"I see you've noticed my pensieve in the corner," he mused. "Interesting object isn't it? I'm sure you know what it's used for, correct?"
Hermione nodded and gave her educated answer. "It's a device used to view memories isn't it? Not only did I read about it somewhere, Harry has also mentioned it before."
"You're right Miss Granger." Dumbledore gave her an appraising look before continuing on. "We'll be needing this tonight."
"If I may ask, professor, does this have anything to do with Bellatrix Lestrange?" The name sent her heart racing and caused a shiver to run down her spine.
"It has everything to do with her," he answered gravely, staring back at her from behind his half-moon spectacles. "Tonight, I called you here to discuss your mission with the Order. After the debacle at the Ministry we've decided its time we go at this from a different angle. I fear Harry will not be strong enough to take on Voldemort and his followers. Yes, he has our assistance but in the end will that really be enough?"
"Sir, what are you saying?" Hermione couldn't believe he didn't have faith in Harry. After all he had been through; First year with the stone, his second year with the chamber, and all the years after. In fact the fight in the Ministry should have been proof enough.
"Foremost, I am not saying I do not have faith in him," he gave her a knowing look. "I'm merely suggesting that in order to bring forth a better outcome we must weaken Voldemort any way possible."
Hermione had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Her powerful mind was connecting the dots. "You want me to kill Bellatrix Lestrange."
There was a pregnant pause before Dumbledore began to chuckle. "Oh no Miss Granger, killing her won't be necessary." She could feel the relief bubble inside of her. "What we want you to do may be a tad bit harder." The bubble had been popped brutally.
"Professor, please just tell me." The suspense was getting to her. She wanted Dumbledore to give her the objective so she could be on her way to the girl's dormitory and go to sleep.
"Bellatrix Lestrange is Voldemort's most powerful and dedicated follower," Dumbledore began, now taking a seat behind his desk. "It was rumored that if she hadn't been locked in Azkaban when Voldemort fell she would have taken his spot and most likely succeeded in overthrowing the Ministry and taking control. Her magical ability far surpasses most, and she is feared above all other Death Eaters. Without her I doubt Voldemort would have gotten as far as he had or has now."
"What do you want me to do, sir?" Hermione asked warily.
"I have with me, a modified Time-Turner." He pulled open a drawer in his desk and pushed onto the table a silver hourglass, hung from a golden chain. "Hermione, the Order and I need for you to take this Time-Turner and travel back in time. We need you to lure her back to this time."
"Sir, what you're asking is-it's ridiculous," she shook her head furiously. "If we brought her back to our time she'd disappear. There would be no record of her up until the time she was taken. The implications…where would we all be? You say Voldemort wouldn't have been as successful? Nothing would be the same then. Not to mention we'd all recognize her, especially the teachers."
"Yes, I am aware of the issue Miss Granger," his eyes sparkled uncannily. "What do you suggest we do then?"
Hermione was at a loss. What could they do? The objective was a joke, it couldn't ever work. Not to mention this was once of the most feared Death Eaters we're talking about. Hermione couldn't ever hope to apprehend her.
"I-How about befriending her, professor?" She almost gagged. The idea was ludicrous. Befriend Bellatrix Lestrange, what a laugh.
Dumbledore smiled widely. "I knew we chose the right person. You see Hermione, only you would have come up with that idea. The others would have flat out refused to do anything pertaining to her. The Order members are too mature and Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley would have been ineffective because of their hatred towards her. Yes, you do dislike Mrs. Lestrange but you aren't clouded by your anger. You would be perfect for befriending her and I'm sure another suggestion would be to stray her from the path of evil am I right?"
That was exactly the other proposition she had in mind. It seemed a better idea than what Dumbledore had on the table. But how was she to achieve that? Bellatrix was mad; a raving lunatic. As if Dumbledore was reading her mind he stood and gestured to his pensieve.
"Bellatrix wasn't the person you think she is now. Evil can rot the soul, but here you will witness a soul that has merely been touched by evil and not trapped within its tight, dark grip."
Hermione stepped forward as Dumbledore drew a memory from his head, the silvery string-like substance wrapping around his wand. He dropped the contents into the pensieve and Hermione watched for the first time as it swirled around neither air nor water. She followed Dumbledore's lead and lowered her face until she felt her feet leave the ground and the sensation of being lifted and flipped overcame her.
"Sir, you called me into your office?" Bellatrix's husky voice asked. Hermione gasped at the sight.
Standing in front of her was a younger Bellatrix; she looked to be around seventeen. The Black blood running through her veins did her good. She was stunning. Her dark, curly hair fell down to her back framing porcelain skin. Dark coffee brown eyes, stared from hooded lids and a small smirk played at her blood red lips. Her body-Hermione couldn't help but notice was perfect; Curves in all the right places and physically fit. But there was something, something that pulled you in. Something dark, that intermingled with her features that lured you towards her.
"Ah yes, Miss Black," Dumbledore smiled kindly. He was younger as well. His beard wasn't as long and it was an auburn color. "Please, sit."
"I'd rather stand, sir," she challenged, her eyes daring him to defy her.
"If you must," he shrugged. She seemed to calm, seeing his reply as submission.
"Do you know why I called you here today Miss Black?" he questioned. She sighed, and glanced around the room for a moment. It looked exactly as it did in the future.
"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me…sir," though the glint in her dark eyes indicated otherwise. Hermione was quite sure Bellatrix knew why she was there.
"There have been rumors of your involvement with the Dark Arts," his eyes continued to sparkle as he spoke. "You have been seen hanging around Rudolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, including Lucius Malfoy and friend Avery, correct?"
"Yes, that is correct," she snapped not liking where this was going.
"It has come to light that their family members and possibly some of them have joined Lord Voldemort. They bare the Dark Mark. I'm not accusing you of anything but merely laying rest to the rumors spreading around the school. Lift up your left arm, please."
She stood there for a moment, staring dangerously into Dumbledore's light-blue colored eyes before complying and raising her left arm. He strode over to her and pushed back her cloak sleeve. A pale arm stared back at him, smooth and unmarked. His eyes shined even brighter now.
"I see the rumors were mistaken as they often are," he nodded. "Sorry about the inconvenience. I figured with the marriage soon upon us with Mr. Lestrange you would have followed in the familial footsteps."
For a second she looked vulnerable, her dark eyes were open and you might have witnessed all the other emotions she held inside her besides anger and resentment but just as quickly as it came it was gone.
"The upcoming marriage is none of your concern," she practically growled out. Her face was a mask of irritation and barely contained fury.
"I'm sorry Miss Black, I overstepped the line," he apologized sincerely.
"Is that all, sir?" She was ready to be on her way.
"Yes, that is all," Dumbledore nodded. She began to walk out, but as she was pushing past the exit he called out to her. "Congratulations by the way Miss Black, on making Head Girl."
No one could have missed the smile that broke onto her face.
Hermione gasped, stepping back into the present. She couldn't believe she had been feet away from a younger Bellatrix, albeit it was a memory but it felt real. Bellatrix had been so close.
"You see," Dumbledore smiled. "She isn't the ruthless Death Eater just yet. She shows signs, yes, but the good outweighs the bad right now. So Miss Granger, do you now see the objective? Will it be difficult?"
Hermione took a moment to think, her eyes closing as she conjured up the younger version of Bellatrix. She was loads better than the current version.
"I do, yes," she nodded. "The memory gave me incite to what type of person she is in the past. She's not twisted, demented or mad. She actually seems…human. But she's guarded, so it will still be difficult gaining her trust and friendship but it won't be a terribly hard task."
Dumbledore's periwinkle eyes shined behind his half-moon eyeglasses. "I take it that's a yes then?"
"You would be correct, professor," Hermione grinned.