Same disclaimers, I don't own this.

A/N: thank you so much for the great reviews and suggestions to kick this off! I'm really startled, since this is definitely hallowed ground for some, so thank you. Fear not, Harry won't be an idiot...that distinction will rest primarily with Ron. Love reviews and constructive criticism...Keep 'em coming.

CHAPTER TWO: WHAT LIES BENEATH

Hermione never finished her shopping; the "adoring public" made it impossible. Despite Ginny's insistence that it was just because people were grateful to her and meant well, those sentiments were poor condolence to her total claustrophobia in crowds, nowadays. In the next week, she rarely left the burrow. She actually longed for the muggle world at times like this; there, she still had some anonymity. As she sat in the back staring out at the Weasley's pond, she wondered to herself if Amazon would deliver to Hogwarts. She scowled.

All of the ginger-haired family knew to keep their distance when Hermione was like this.

The voice in her head spoke. Aw, Puppy, why so glum?

"I'm not glum."

That scowl across that pretty little mudblood face of yours suggests otherwise.

Hermione snorted. "There's the Bellatrix I know. Demeaning, even when you're a part of my imagination."

There was a long pause, almost as if "Bellatrix" was pausing to collect her thoughts.

What would you prefer I call you?

"Well, for starters, how about getting rid of that horrible moniker, and using my actual name? Try saying muggle-born or muggle, instead of mudblood if you can't bring yourself to do that."

She actually heard the voice audibly sigh. Fine. What about Mudpuppy?

"Nope."

Puppy?

She huffed. "What's wrong with Hermione?"

No response.

"Granger?"

No response.

"Okay, then, how about just 'Muggle' if you need to dehumanize me, then."

Dehumanize?

"Yes. That's what bullies classically do, you know. They give the people they bully a label, even strip them of their names, because if they make them seem not human, it palliates their conscious when they do terrible things to them."

You're quite the social psychologist, Puppy.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

I think you are getting cabin fever, um…Granger. You need to get out of the house and go interact with some people your own age. Finish your school shopping.

Hermione sighed. "I'm not really interested in getting mobbed again, Bellatrix."

Who cares about the idiot public? YOU need to get out, so get out!

"I care. All those people staring …just staring at me. Expecting something. Like, if I touch them, their cancer will be gone, or something."

The voice laughed. It wasn't the insane, high pitched cackle that was her former trademark, but instead, a deep, rich chuckle that tinged Hermione at her core. She smiled, in spite of her dislike of the dark witch.

I'm not diminishing your concerns, Granger. But before this becomes full blown ochlophobia, you need to get back OUT there. The problem is, you need to not look in their eyes, look above their eyes, at their foreheads.

"Is that what you do?"

Me? No. I stare back, full on, daring them to look at me. Then I usually hex them.

Hermione laughed…a full bellied laugh that was the first relief she had, all day. "Yes, that sounds about right."

I don't recommend that technique for you, however. Worst case, what about that incredibly ugly bag of yours? Don't you have some polyjuice left?

"Hey! My beaded bag isn't ugly!"

It so is.

"Is not!"

Really, it is. If we did a poll, likely 9 out of 10 wizards would agree with me. You cannot include your friend Luna in the sampling group.

Hermione huffed. But a small grin had crept onto her face. "For your information, that enchanted bag saved our asses more than once. And, you know, that's brilliant! Polyjuice."

You aren't the only one dubbed the smartest witch of their time, you know. Also, Puppy, I wouldn't be one your hangers-on, either. No ginger heads or Luna…people will stare, hoping to see you or tweedle dee and tweedle dum."

"Hey!" Hermione protested. "Those are my friends."

Whatever. Listen, I'm getting tired. This amount of legilimens is very fatiguing. Besides, you need to get out there and enjoy the fact you're not trapped…like me. You have nothing to fear. Stop taking that for granted.

"You're a figment of my imagination, so how can you be getting tired?"

Ha! Keep telling yourself that, Puppy. Deep down, you know that's not true. You've always suspected….

Hermione stilled her expression, and tried to put up her walls with occulmancy.

A bit too late for that, don't you think? Besides, Granger, we're connected. I… I need to go now.

The teenager tried to quiet the swirl of emotions in her head….fear, interest, curiosity, horror; and something else…something she couldn't quite name.

By the way, I'm proud of you for going back. Lesser people wouldn't…and didn't.

And just like that, she felt the dark witch leave her thoughts. As Hermione looked out to the water, once again, she finally realized that last emotion.

Desire.

XOXOXOXOXO

Hermione had apparated back to the borough with the remainder of her school supplies and a bright look on her face, as the last of Neville Longbottom's features morphed into her own delicate ones.

Mr. Weasley clapped. "Brilliant, Hermione! How was shopping?"

"Wonderful, actually. I don't know why I didn't do this before! So, I brought back a wonderful cut of ham for tonight…should I put it in the kitchen?"

"Absolutely my dear. Molly is hard at work in there."

The teenager, still fresh from the excitement of going out in public on her own, found Mrs. Weasly inside.

"Mrs. Weasley? I have a ham, here."

"Lovely, darling! Put it by the sink, I'm getting ready to brine."

Hermione did as instructed, but stood silently by the older woman for a moment. After a beat, she spoke.

"Molly?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Didn't...didn't you go to school with Bellatrix Lestrange?"

A deep scowl crossed the woman's face as she started to chop the carrots within an inch of their lives.

"I did. She was Bellatrix Black, back then. Two years behind Arthur and I, at Hogwarts."

"What was she like, back then?"

The carrots were on their way to becoming paste. "Who cares, Hermione? She's death eater scum!"

"I'm asking."

Molly sighed, pausing. She looked Hermione deep in the eyes, and finally spoke.

"She was breathtaking, Hermione. Breathtaking."

Hermione looked shocked at Mrs. Weasley's conssession. The red head continued, "Before Harry, she was the youngest person ever to make the Quiddich team. She was fearless, and amazing to watch, even if she was a Slythern! And she was so smart, that I also remember. In fact, she might even have given you a run for your money on her N.E.W.T.s!"

Hermione cocked her head.

"But she was always a loner, that I remember. Every boy in the school wanted to date her, even if they were scared of her, but she was aloof. Didn't have many friends, outside her sisters. She always had her head in a book."

Hermione cocked her head again.

"In fact, honey, outside of the fact she was an athlete, and you actually have a few good friends, I dare say, she reminded me a lot of … you."

Hermione was not as shocked by that admission as she expected to be.

"Molly?" Hermione continued, gently, "In the final battle…you know, when you…"

"Killed that bitch?"

"Yes. Well, I know this sounds strange, but….are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?"

Molly chopped furiously. "Of course I'm sure! I killed that evil woman, dead! Good riddance!"

Despite the passion with which she spoke, Hermione's seasoned eyes caught the slight tremble in her voice, and noticed the faint hand shake before she gripped the knife. Hermione had kept the three of them alive with her powers of observation, and her attention to detail, after all. Those skills of hers told her all she needed to know, without Molly saying a word.

Molly hadn't killed Bellatrix that day, and the older witch knew, deep down.

Hermione put a reassuring hand over Molly's, and squeezed. "Of course you did. Stupid of me to ask. I've just been having nightmares, lately, and I think I needed a little reassurance."

Molly stopped, and immediately pulled Hermione into a hug. "You poor dear. What you've been through. You deserve … peace, dear."

"We all do."

XOXOXOXOXOXO

Hermione hadn't totally lied, completely.

Bellatrix had been making appearances in her dreams for a long time. However, they hardly could be classified as nightmares.

"There, Bella. Oh, God, there!"

Hermione's hands were tangled up in the mass of black curls, urging her deeper towards her core.

"Oh, fuck! Faster, please, faster."

Hermione let out a deep groan, and felt her insides clenching.

The dark witch's hands gripped Hermione's hips, as to still them from their wild bucking. She continued to make the brunette writhe with the skilled ministrations of her tongue. Bellatrix looked up, with a malovenent grin on her face, evidence of Hermione's arousal shining around her lips.

"Aw, Puppy? What's wrong?"

"Please…please….please!" Begged Hermione.

"Please, what? Use your words, Puppy…."

The teen looked down, and met her intense gaze. She growled, "Bella, please…fuck me. Make me come."

Hermione gasped, as Bellatrix reattached her mouth to Hermione's folds. Licking, teasing, finally entering her center, almost violently, with her tongue, Hermione felt herself tumble over the edge and her entire body began to shake.

"Yes! Oh, fuck, yes…yes…omigod, ohmigod…."

Bellatrix was relentless. Her tongue was relentless.

"I'm coming! Oh, fuck….Bella!"

Then, Hermione passed out cold, as she often did, to the satisfied smirk of the woman above her.

XOXOXOXOX