Nagini was particularly fond of Hermione. Wound around her neck like a venomous scarf, the snake's slender head would poke out from beneath her hair and whisper to her all the names of those both in and out of the Dark Lord's favour as they took their places at the table.

According to the Parsletongue drifting her way now, it was Fenrir who was the current least favourite, which gave Hermione and elation usually reserved for watching young children fall down and hurt themselves.

Sat beside her, Bellatrix was looking sideways at Hermione through her long curls with something near alarm. Come to think of it, so was every one else at the table, if less obviously the the oldest Black sister.

It's almost like they think my smiling is worrying. Hermione thought absentmindedly.

"How do you not fall over with that bloody great Python around your neck?"

Hermione looked at Antonin across the table, who was eying Nagini. She leaned across the dark wood in front of her as far as she could towards him and glanced each way down the table as if she was going to tell him a secret. "Because I'm sitting down." She whispered loudly. Bellatrix did her best to suppress her laugh.

Dolohov rolled his eyes. "Fine, 'how do you not fall off your seat with that bloody great Python around your neck?'" He amended.

Hermione shrugged. "Maybe because she's not a Python."

Antonin made a face which let Hermione know his level of expertise ended at pointing and saying 'snake'. "What is she, then?"

"She's a Viper."

Some of the other death eaters were watching them converse cautiously. Antonin had earned quite a lot more respect among the death eater ranks because of his good terms with Hermione and some of the others seemed to find it fascinating to watch her talking, or in fact doing anything mundane when she was more lucid. It was like water off a duck's back to Hermione, but Bellatrix found it infuriating. She was virulently protective of the younger witch and as much as she liked to see Hermione's hexes strike people down like the viper around her neck, it made her feel… irresponsible to let her curse too many people a day. She tried to limit it to about four but the current record was nineteen so upon reflection, that might not have been her most successful endeavour.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Narcissa arrived with Draco, strangely late considering it was their mansion they were all gathering in. She seated herself beside Bellatrix and Draco beside his mother. Ever since they'd come to stay at Black Manor last Christmas and he'd walked into the wrong room only to see Hermione coming out of her and Bella's en suit with just a short towel wrapped around her waist, Draco liked to keep his mother between himself and Hermione at all times. Not that she had attacked him, far from it. She had stood in the doorway and quite unnervingly politely asked him if she could help him, the ends of her damp hair barely covering her breasts.

Once Bellatrix got over the fact that Hermione hadn't tried to set him on fire, she almost crucified him herself. As far as Draco was concerned, one's wrath was just as bad as the other, and they hadn't seen much of him since.

Hermione nodded to her sister-in-law, whilst Draco pretended to find something very interesting about the floor.

"Ah, good…" The room was brought to a swift silence as the Dark Lord entered. "Everybody here?" He asked rhetorically.

He glided past Bella and Hermione and took his place at the head of the table. "It has become apparent," he began, his gaze sweeping over Yaxley and Dolohov, "That Potter is searching for the means of my downfall rather more accurately than we had anticipated. Bellatrix. You and Hermione shall travel now and collect an item waiting for you. If there is someone there waiting with it you will dispose of them."

Hermione looked brighter at the prospect of cold blooded murder.

"Now…" The Dark Lord's eyes wondered onto Fenrir but before he could speak a loud crack echoed from outside the room.

"What was that?" Hermione mused, not sounding like she genuinely cared.

Fenrir gave Hermione a caustic look. "Maybe it was the sound of a neck breaking." He snarled.

Hermione's eyes darkened and she glared back. "No Fenrir, that's a completely different sound, allow me to demonstrate."

Bellatrix rested her hand on Hermione's knee before she could stand and make good on her offer. The younger witch took a deep breath and feigned composure, smiling forcedly. "I didn't break his neck." she said through gritted teeth, "I collapsed his trachea. There's a world of difference."

Bellatrix remembered it well. They had been lying peacefully in bed, Hermione's head rested on Bella's chest, back in Lestrange manor and the older witch knew it was coming. Hermione had been staring at nothing for hours when suddenly she sat up, kissed Bellatrix's temple very softly and left the room in complete silence. Bellatrix knew where she was going and for what purpose and hadn't tried to stop her lover.

Ten minutes had drifted by and the door to their room re-opened. To this day Bellatrix couldn't understand how a person could get themselves so covered in blood without causing the slightest scream. She had never asked. Instead, she had risen from where she had been lying for the past several hours and followed Hermione into their bathroom, wordlessly undressed her whilst throwing her own night dress to the side, and then followed her into the shower. She had wrapped her arms around Hermione's middle and the younger witch had leaned back into her as the warm water slowly washed the blood from her skin and swirled it in pink ribbons down the drain.

"Tell that to Rod, you crazy bitc-"

Hermione's stunner hit him so hard the back of his chair exploded and he shot backwards into the wall. His head cracked against the marble decoration around the mantlepiece behind and he slumped either dead or unconscious- Hermione didn't care which- and to Bellatrix's satisfaction not a single person moved to check.

The Dark Lord looked at the werewolf impassively, but was nevertheless glad the interruption was over. "Thank you, Hermione. You may take your leave."

"I don't know why that cretin misses Rod so much. I was married to him and the only thing I regret is that you got him before I did." Bellatrix thought aloud as she pulled her cloak around her shoulders.

Hermione gave Bellatrix a wry smile. "Really? You can't think of any reason at all?"

Bellatrix stopped fiddling with her cloak and frowned at Hermione. "What are you implying?"

Hermione just laughed and offered her arm to apperate.

"Do you know where you're going?"

"Nagini told me. Some place called Belial's Copse."

"Belial?"

Hermione smiled and pulled out her wand. "It's an old word for the devil." And with no further explanation, she apperated them out of the building.

"Charming place." Bellatrix commented, staring around at the rotted tree stumps and up at the half-burned exterior of the cabin they were faced with.

"Homely." Hermione agreed distractedly, staring around at where they'd landed and making a mental note of any places that could come in useful for cover if things got nasty.

"There are blood stains."

Hermione's eyes languidly floated back to Bellatrix. "Blood stains can be homely. Remember Belarus?"

Bellatrix raised her eyebrows and followed the younger witch up the path to the cabin. "I most certainly do remember Belarus."

Hermione knocked politely on the cabin door. "We should go back there some time."

Bellatrix held a hand up. "Uh, no, we will never be going back there."

"I didn't know she was the bride." Hermione muttered.

Before Bellatrix could question her as to her excuse for the rest of the wedding's attendee's, the cabin door opened a crack. An aged eye regarded them for a moment before the door swung the rest of the way open, shrieking as it did so. An old man in muggle clothes was standing hunched in the half light. "Death eaters knocking, whatever next?"

Hermione's smile was a clear threat. "I'm not a death eater."

It was true, Hermione had never taken the mark- she had argued that if she took the mark then she could always be accused of staying with Voldemort because she was branded. However, if she didn't take the mark, it displayed the utmost level of mutual trust which according to Hermione, was far preferable to being branded like cattle. The Dark Lord had agreed, half because he couldn't afford not to considering by that point if Hermione had left Bellatrix would've too, and half because in actual fact, he couldn't find any flaws in the logic. He was a reasonable man.

"But my wife is."

Bellatrix's dark eyes stared at him, watching as his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "I remember Ms Black very well." He said listlessly. "She killed all five of my sons. At the same time." He added when the older which showed no signs of recognition.

Bellatrix shrugged. "I don't remember, but I believe it happened."

Bored of waiting for the old man, Hermione strode across the single room and yanked open the only draw from the only piece of furniture there was. She was successful, pulling out a small package wrapped in pale blue cloth.

"Well thank you," Hermione concluded, rejoining Bellatrix by the door.

"You be careful with that." The old man hissed, stepping towards Hermione purposefully.

Bellatrix moved immediately to stand behind the younger witch, wrapping one arm around her middle, the blackness in her eyes almost enough to powder the old man where he stood. Bellatrix was yet to challenge the label 'possessive'. Naturally, Hermione enjoyed it greatly.

The old man took a few unsure steps backwards as he remembered who he was dealing with.

"Give my regards to your sons." Hermione said cordially. She didn't even wait for the confusion to properly form on his brow before she killed him.

"Not wasting time today." Bellatrix remarked.

"Should have let you do that, you could have had the whole set." Hermione said impishly.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "I'll get over it."

They were halfway out of the door when Hermione stopped and turned around and Bellatrix should have known.

"Is it really necessary? Its half burned down as it is." Bellatrix complained. Hermione was already on strike two and burning half the woods down might have to count as another two strikes instead of just one. Hermione would have had her four 'maim-assault-or-blow-up' allowance for the day and it wasn't even eleven o clock.

Hermione turned on the spot back to look at the older witch and upon seeing the stern look on her face slipped her arms under black curls and kissed her temple. "Please?"

"Hermione-" Bellatrix started to reason with her.

The younger witch wasn't going to bother to say please again, but still successfully interrupted the defence with another kiss. Bellatrix regarded the woman in her arms. "You can't just win arguments by kissing me."

Hermione wasn't going to listen. She kissed the death eater once more on the very corner of her mouth. Bellatrix's lips twisted as if she was trying to keep herself from conceding. Hermione's dark eyes had just as much fire in them as her wand did and Bellatrix caved. "Fine." She sighed. Hermione smiled against her lips as she kissed her one last time and then the building went up in flames and Bellatrix wasn't even sure Hermione had said the incantation. That was worrying. Sometimes the incantations were the only warning Bellatrix got when Hermione snapped at someone. She would have to be vigilant for that.

Damn it.

Hermione's smile seemed… off to Bellatrix. She narrowed her eyes. "What?"

The brunette smiled and took her arm. "Nothing."

"Why do you look so-"

"Amazing?"

"Hermione-" Bellatrix was cut off yet again as Hermione crashed her lips against her partners.

"Don't be mad at me." She murmured against her ear when she broke away, and Bellatrix felt her wand being pulled in one swift sharp movement from her sleeve. Hermione apperated, pulling Bellatrix with her, and Bellatrix never had time to work out what the hell had just happened.