Snape poured the aged fire whiskey into the second small frosted glass as if it were a very precious potion.

"Under the circumstances," he drawled, carefully picking up the two small glasses and handing one to Hermione, "I'm sure there can be allowed a little rule breaking, Miss Granger."

Hermione had never really been a drinker but took it gratefully; she'd watched him open the bottle, something she was sure he'd done in front of her specifically for that reason, so she knew there was nothing there shouldn't be in the amber liquid.

"Thanks." She said weakly, wondering what on earth Minerva would say about the sight of the two of them, sitting out on a balcony in the evening sun clasping stiff drinks and discussing resurrecting the dark lord and his most faithful servant.

Snape lowered himself painfully into the chair that sat next to Hermione. Both chairs faced slightly inward and and overlooked a wonderful view of the lake, the evening breeze warm against their faces as the sun turned the clear sky peach and gold.

"It's a lovely view, sir." The witch said politely, gazing out at the lake.

"Yes. I was pleased it wasn't destroyed during the battle." He agreed, looking around at the untouched stone balustrade. "Though please, it only seems right you call me Severus. After all, I'm hardly operating in my capacity as a teacher now."

After a pause to consider what her professor had said, Hermione nodded and downed her drink, suddenly feeling the need for it.

"I suppose I'm hardly here as a student, either. So by the same rules, please, call me Hermione."

Severus nodded. "So. I suppose you have questions. More so than usual." He added, knowingly.

Hermione sighed and looked out towards the lake. "I don't know where to begin."

Her potions master swirled his fire whiskey around his glass and looked thoughtful. "At the beginning, perhaps." He suggested with no hint of sarcasm, not lifting his eyes from his glass. "With Bellatrix- after all, without your decision on that matter, there can be no further decisions for you no matter what the scale."

She supposed he was right. "Even if I did bring her back… She would just kill me. I am literally everything she despises."

"Not quite, I believe Rudolphus took that crown more than a few years ago."

"She didn't even love her husband?" Hermione said with some incredulity.

Severus wheezed a laugh. "You can fault Bella for many things but that's hardly one of them."

"In what way?"

"Well you must understand the circumstances of her marriage. It was a business transaction carried out by her father, love never came into it. She couldn't stand to breathe the same air as him. Understandably; Rudolphus was a pig at the best of times and an unintelligent, drunken misogynist at the worst. Even Lucius didn't like him, and someone with his political skills isn't easily pushed to outward displays of dislike among peers- bad for business."

The more Hermione thought about it, the more it made sense. "Admittedly, I almost feel sorry for her. Almost."

"Well that's progress."

"She tortured me." Hermione remarked, suddenly, unable to make herself sound any less blunt. Her insides felt like they were being tied in knots.

Severus finally looked up from his drink. "Well, now, that's up for debate, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"You were of age when the incident at Malfoy Manor occurred, were you not? If Bellatrix had really been so close to you, your mark would have appeared. Unless of course you think there's a chance it might have been there without your noticing. It would have been white, after all."

"No, it's on the same arm as all the scarring. Even if I hadn't noticed, the various people who tried to heal me would have."

"Fair enough. It wasn't there then. Which casts doubt upon whether Bellatrix was ever at Malfoy Manor."

"Who else would it have been?" Hermione asked cynically. She felt the very Gryffindor need to rebel at what was being suggested to her.

"It could have been a selection of death eaters. How did she handle the situation?"

"You know very well how she handled the situation." Hermione retorted, motioning at her left arm with her empty glass.

"I mean was she angry, was she calm, was she more focused on torturing you or gaining the information she needed?"

Hermione watched passively as one tentacle of the giant squid broke the surface of the lake, too far below for the sound to reach her ears. "She was insane. Past furious and intent on cutting me into pieces."

Severus sipped at his drink and looked thoughtfully at the lake as the ripples made by the squid started to fade away.

"What?" Hermione asked uncertainly, looking at his face of contemplation. She repeated herself slightly louder and an octave higher when he didn't answer her.

"I have to be careful," He started cautiously, "With how I say things to you. You understand, if what I tell you sounds too convenient, regardless of its truth, you might push it away or refuse it when it could be important."

"Why, what is it that's going to sound too convenient?"

"Well, Bellatrix at that point in time would have identified that the information she needed from you could have been vitally important to the outcome of the war. No matter her personal feelings for you, I strongly believe that her need to gather that information would have overridden her need to kick you around the room. Torturing you would have been too risky, lest she accidentally kill you and lose the information all together. Say what you will about her but she was never stupid."

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to get her head around everything the Potions master was saying. "So you think the fact she was so… Bellatrix… highlights that she wasn't Bellatrix?"

Snape nodded. "She was, however, a good imitation?"

"I certainly never noticed anything odd."

The older wizard finished his drink. "The only person that would have experienced Bellatrix's rage so often they could imitate it so well and could have gotten close enough to her to be able to take a strand of hair for Polyjuice would have been Rudolphus."

Hermione wasn't convinced. "So you're saying Rudolphus Polyjuiced himself to look like his wife and then tortured me?"

Severus shrugged. "I can think of no other reason your mark would have failed to appear other than it not having been her. The magic of that bond is ancient, it doesn't just fail."

Hermione was beginning to see a full scale war break out on her mind's battlefield. "Forgive me if I stay skeptical." She mumbled the lie. She didn't feel skeptical at all, the tugging in the back of her mind and a sinking feeling in her stomach was telling her quite clearly that Severus was likely right.

At the same time, Severus was battling his own demons. He had faith that Bellatrix wouldn't harm Hermione were this plan to work, but as he would be the first to admit, they were going to need a lot more than just faith in the eldest black sister.

"I expected nothing less." He assured. "How has your sleep been?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows passively, not wanting to look at the potions master. "Disturbed." She said simply.

"Anything related to this?"

Hermione bit the inside of her lip and tried not to let the images of her nights overtake her.

"I keep seeing her die." She said quietly, eventually, tracing her scars with one finger absentmindedly. He didn't let on, but Snape noticed the subtle action.

"You didn't witness it though?"

"No but… I…" Hermione forced herself to stop before she said something she couldn't take back.

"Go on." Severus said, motioning for her to give her glass back before she powdered it in her grip. Hermione shook her head and passed him the glass, looking anywhere but directly at him. Her head had become such unfamiliar territory since the war had ended, she wasn't sure enough of anything she felt to commit to saying it out loud.

"It doesn't matter if you're unsure, no one's going to hold you to the things you say." Snape persuaded, filling Hermione's glass once more and handing it back, wondering where his career went so wrong that he was watering his student with whiskey.

Hermione took the glass once more, her hand shaking. "I just… When I wake up… I hate her."

"Bellatrix?"

"No. Molly." Hermione presses the back of her hand into her closed eyes trying not to let tears come. "I hate her so much I can't bear to think about her, Severus she's been like a mother to me, how could I…" Hermione trailed off as her voice threatened to break.

"I expect that's the influence of the bond than anything else. Mrs Weasley might be the first but she won't be the last, it's unfortunate but t's probable that by the end of the month you won't be able to stand being near anyone." He had meant to sound reassuring but upon reflection it might not have come out quite as he had meant it.

Hermione looked at him with her mouth open a little, a look of half alarm, half despair on her face.

For a second time, she drank her drink in one go and Severus had to smile. "I'd stop doing that if I were you, or I shall be carrying you back to Gryffindor tower."

Hermione still looked somewhat distressed.

He reached out and touched her shoulder. "Mrs Weasley killed your soulmate." He said slowly. "What you feel is normal. It's not personal to Mrs Weasley in any way."

"How do you know so much about this?" Hermione asked after a couple of minutes calming herself down.

Snape sighed. "Because I had a soulmate, also."

Hermione looked at him in surprise and turned slightly in her seat to look at him better. "Really?"

Snape looked down into his drink. Taking a few moments to gather himself, he too shifted until his back was to her, and with his free hand he pulled the ends of his hair away from the back of his neck. Neat letters spelled 'Always' in black just below his hairline.

"They come in all forms, the marks. Words, shapes, symbols." Snape sat back straight in his chair and let his hair drop.

"But… It's black… Shouldn't you be…" Hermione didn't want to say it.

Snape drank the rest of his drink. "Maybe. My circumstance was not one that could be replicated if that's what you were wondering."

"No, I hadn't even thought of that. Who was it? If you don't mind me asking…" The brunette mumbled, realising it was probably a personal question.

"Lily Potter."

Hermione felt a little sympathy. "But you knew Lily… I don't understand. She married James."

Snape winced. "James was her soulmate also. A freak of magic, I suppose, magic so powerful is bound to overspill sometime. The three of us all had the same mark. She felt she had to choose. When she chose James I can only assume it made my part in it null and void but the mark remained. As did how I felt for her. Lily didn't want it to become public and so no one ever knew. After she died I didn't see the point in bringing it up."

Hermione stared at him. "I'm sorry…" She said eventually, unable to imagine how that must have felt.

No wonder he felt compelled to persuade me to save Bellatrix. Hermione thought.

"Don't be. You have your own soulmate to worry about. Potentially."

Hermione felt a new weight in her heart thinking about it. Maybe she should save Bellatrix. Maybe she didn't know her. Maybe she was someone Hermione would love one day. She couldn't imagine it, Bellatrix scared the life out of her.

"If no one knows about Lily, why did McGonagall send me to you?"

"Because I have an interest in the subject, as far as the professor is concerned." Snape explained simply.

Hermione sank back into her seat and watched the sky as the evening drew closer to night.

"So, you suggest Bellatrix isn't as bad as I seem to think," Hermione said, noticing that she was softening her stance. She told herself it was because she was minding Severus' feelings on the subject on the whole, letting herself become more open to the subject so that he could feel better in his persuasions. She was a rotten liar, even to herself. The truth of it was she was starting to acclimatise to the idea. She just had to get past this last hurdle. She had to get some idea of who Bellatrix really was.

"I do." Severus agreed.

"What was she really like?"

"Sarcastic. Dark humoured. She was the sort of person that rolled her eyes as hell descended around her- as it frequently did. She would be up all night and sleep all day. Pace around for hours before she finally resorted to reading until 3 am. I distinctly remember her telling Draco once to 'mind his fucking language.' I feel the irony sums Bella up quite nicely. She cared greatly for her sister, however reckless she got, however much she wanted to hide in her room all day, she was a human being. She carried a lot of stress, it got to her sometimes. She would break down alone, she never wanted to upset Narcissa with it. She was a loyal friend, I trusted her implicitly and she was an excellent leader. She was still a powerful witch, that was no lie, certainly the most powerful death eater. She had to do what she had to do at times, that just came with her rank in this war. She was terrifying enough to turn any sensible man to stone with a mere look when she needed to be." Severus smiled a little. "But underneath it all she was… no more a monster than you or I."

Hermione had rested her head on her arms, her knees pulled up to her chest. She watched the last of the sun disappear as Severus finished, trying to picture the things he was saying. It was so hard.

"If that was who she was, then why do I know her as a psychopath?"

"Well she had her moments." Snape noted with some amusement. "But we all had our facades, she played the psychopath, I played the evil teacher, it helped us to dissociate ourselves from the things we had to do. Split ourselves down the middle so to speak. Plus, we wanted to downplay her power so that the order might underestimate us- if they saw how well she recovered from Azkaban, they might have fought harder. So she used a few spells on her appearance to make it seem like she wasn't her former self any more, played a lunatic. It worked, she could do anything, we could send her to do strategic things, raids and assassinations and people would just pass it off as the chaos that any unhinged individual would cause. They never looked too hard when Bella was involved, which was fine by us."

Hermione could understand that. "I believe you, I just can't picture it. I can't picture her having a normal, calm conversation." She said eventually.

"I can show you, if you like, but not a word to Poppy. She'll have my head if she finds out I used advanced magic before my recovery period was over."

Hermione felt almost uneasy at being faced with Bellatrix once again, even if it was just through a memory. She remembered the house she was supposed to belong to.

"I would appreciate it, if you could." She agreed.

Severus nodded and after some little preparation, Hermione found herself plunged into a darkness which began to lift almost as fast as it had fallen.

Narcissa was sitting across from her, a book in her lap and a glass of red wine in her hand. The library was dim and warm. Behind her sat a death eater, a young, clean shaven man who was hunched inside his robes and furiously writing something down on a sheet of parchment. Hermione supposed this was Malfoy Manor when it was being used as a base for the dark lord. There were a few moments quiet before the door to the library swung open and Bellatrix walked in, looking rather civilian in her simple black robes but no less hauntingly beautiful. Her dark curls were piled up on top of her head and pinned. Messy suited her just as much as formal styling- beautiful as she was most things did suit her, as was the thin privilege of her inheritance of the Black family's Great Good Looks.

Upon seeing her, the death eater that was scribbling behind her started to sob.

"Alright, I know I'm not the most highly sought-after company but I've never actually made someone cry as I've entered the room." The eldest Black said indignantly.

"Yes you have." Narcissa interjected. "Like teachers. And relatives. And women being fitted for wedding dresses."

"Mmm, that was quite an afternoon, wasn't it?" Bellatrix joked. Severus grunted in amusement and Bellatrix sat down besides her sister who was shaking her head with a poorly suppressed smile.

"Is he… Okay?" Bellatrix gestured to the crying death eater.

"He's fine, he just completed his first raid." Snape said as if that explained everything.

As he said it, the young man got up and fled the room. Narcissa said something about there being no fire and Bellatrix used magic to close the door after him.

"He killed a muggle and then his friend was taken by aurors." Snape elaborated further as Bellatrix pulled a face.

"If you say so." She sighed, reaching into Narcissa's lap and stealing the book from right under her reading eyes.

"Excuse me." Narcissa said in mock apology for her sister's manners.

"Excuse you…" Bellatrix repeated absentmindedly as she flicked through the pages, propping her head up with one hand, her elbow rested on the arm of the sofa.

"It's a good job you're my sister." Narcissa muttered.

"Yes because we all know that if I weren't you'd be stood to duel me right here right now." Bellatrix said sarcastically, not taking her eyes from her book.

"I could win in a duel against you!" Narcissa said defensively.

"If I was dead." Bellatrix agreed with a smirk.

Narcissa settled to read the book over her sister's shoulder and a couple of seconds later Hermione found herself back on the balcony with her potions master.

"It wasn't much but it was, at least, Bella. Just… as she was. I could show you more, but I'm afraid it'll have to wait until tomorrow- I haven't the strength for much more."

Hermione's eyes were staring off into the distance. Night had fallen around them. "That's alright, thank you. I have a lot to think about."

Severus understood how she must feel. "Come, you must return to your dormitory, you look as though you could use some sleep."

Hermione still didn't feel like she had left that library. "Yeah…" She agreed, not really knowing what she was agreeing to.

If I was dead. The words kept running through her mind as Severus escorted her back through the castle and bid her good night. Bellatrix had been so different to how Hermione imagined her, she was calm and made sarcastic jokes and read books in the library. She had reminded Hermione of herself.

The young witch lay awake in bed replaying the memory in her mind until the fatigue of learning so much finally got to her and she slipped back into the darkness of her own head for the night.