First and foremost, I want to apologise for the delay. Work has been hectic lately and I had barely any spare time to work on this story, or any of my stories for that matter. Secondly, I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed, followed, and/or favourited this story! Without you, this would merely be a thought of 'what if' in my head. And finally, I would like to thank Freerangeegghead, who has helped me (unofficially) with this chapter! Your witty banter and helpful comments help me more than you know! :)

"An insincere and evil friend is more to be feared than a wild beast;

a wild beast may wound your body,

but an evil friend will wound your mind."

-Buddha

Brilliant white marble shines brightly in the midday sun, as the three finally approach Gringott's. Hermione smiles inwardly as hope fills her very being. 'It is almost over, and I will finally be rid of these two,' she thinks to herself as she pushes against the heavy wooden door of the Goblin bank.

Upon entering the bank, Hermione takes a quick, but analysing, glance throughout the main hall. Goblins. Everywhere she looked, goblins. Sure, she saw a few security wizards standing around trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, but for the most part, all she saw were the goblins who worked there. Most paid no heed to the door opening, nor to the arrival of who they would have thought was the Dark-Lord's second-in-command. They were too busy looking over ledgers or counting out galleons. Even as her high-heeled boots clicked upon the marble tile, none of them even cast a glance towards the arrival of a witch and a wizard who were clients of their establishment. All were busy, save for one.

Sitting at the main desk, at the end of the large hall, sat the head of the goblins of Gringott's, Bogrod, staring intently at Hermione and Ron.

"I wish to enter my vault, goblin," Hermione says, using her most haughty, arrogant voice ever. A tiny shiver of excitement creeps up her spine as she thinks of how proud Bellatrix would be if she could hear how the brunette was speaking to the goblin.

"Ah. Madam Lestrange! How good to see you. May I see some identification?" The old goblin asks as he holds out his hand to take 'her' wand.

Holding her head a little higher, the young witch quirks an eyebrow, "I think you must not have heard me, goblin. I wish to enter my vault!"

"But it is only formality, Madam Lestrange. As you already may know, there has been a new decree passed by Minister Thicknesse. As you have noticed, there are a bit more guards than normal around our perimeter. The Minister feels security should be tightened in every aspect of the Wizarding World, and that includes here. So I am sorry, but I will need identification."

Hermione feels her stomach clench at the old goblin's words. It did not change her plans, but it would make things somewhat harder. The goblins must have known that Bellatrix's wand had been taken from her during their escape from Malfoy Manor and were on the look-out for someone carrying her wand. She grips Bellatrix's wand tighter when she sees several of the goblins look up from their menial tasks of counting galleons and adding additional quill marks to their already filled ledgers and stare in her direction. Their eyes attempt to bore holes into her skin, trying to determine if she is, in fact, who she says she is.

Out of the corner of her eye, the brunette notices a flash of movement head towards Bogrod. To the untrained eye, the sudden movement would have never been noticed, but since she knew of Harry and his Invisibility Cloak, Hermione had an inkling of what was about to happen. "Wait... do you smell something?" Hermione asks as she moves her head back and forth as if she were a hound that had caught scent of their quarry.

Several of the goblins look at each other, wondering silently if the head goblin was wrong to think that this was not the deranged Death-Eater they all knew. One of the younger goblins, who had never met Bellatrix before, carefully climbs off of his stool and quickly walks over to the nearest guard. His gait assures on-lookers that he is very afraid of what the witch may do to him and his kind if she continues in this down-ward spiral of what he thinks is complete madness.

"I smell..." She stares at Ron, still disguised as Despard. "A blood-traitor!"

Wordlessly, she casts Finite Incantatum and an Incarcerous spell towards the red-haired wizard. Instantly Ron is exposed before the guards are able to approach the scene caused by Hermione, polyjuiced as Bellatrix.

"If the Weasel is here..." The brunette pauses, a maniacal sneer forms across her face, as a collective gasp is heard from the goblins who watch the scene unfold before them, "Then Potter should be here as well!" She knew her words and actions were getting to Harry, but he remained quiet and still, trying desperately to keep his temper at bay.

Murmurings of The Chosen One's name, erupt from the goblins, their tasks long forgotten as they watch to see if Harry is actually within Gringott's.

Hermione smirks when a thought passes through her mind. She walks closer to the place where she had seen a glimpse of The-Boy-Who-Lived's shoes earlier, the demonic smile never leaving her lips. "You know we will find you, boy! And when we do, you will end up just like your parents and my dear sweet cousin! There is nowhere to hide... especially if you are trying to hide from the Dark-Lord!"

Nothing. Not a sound or a spell cast towards the witch as she taunts her friend turned bane of her existence. With her patience wearing thin, Hermione huffs then laughs the childish laugh that was her one desire's trademark. "I know how to make you come out from your hiding spot! Crucio!" she screams out, her wand pointed at Ron's helpless form on the ground. Suddenly, his body starts to writhe in agony under the curse.

"Enough, Hermione!" Harry yells, casting off the Cloak of Invisibility, "What do you think you are getting at?"

"What do you think you are getting at?" Hermione mimics back as she casts a hex towards him. She knew her portrayal of Bellatrix needed to be spot on, otherwise, the people watching the display would become wary.

The brunette cackles madly as she sends another curse flying towards The-Boy-Who-Lived. He barely casts a protection spell in time.

"Ickle baby Potter. Do you even know what is going on around you? You think that everything revolves around you. That Dumbledore knew all of the answers. You are wrong! Everything you know is one giant lie!" Hermione snarls as she quickly fires off more curses, keeping the wizard completely on the defensive as her mind counts down the time before 'reinforcements' arrive. "You feel as though that even if you have been forced into this mad scheme, that your friends should follow you full-heartedly into the flames as well. I bet, you have never, during this entire time, even thought to think what your friends want. You just assume that whatever you say goes. That they will be fine with whatever half-assed scheme you come up with. What makes you think you know it all? That you are to be the beacon that everyone is supposed to follow blindly? Oh... that's right, you are 'The Chosen One'." The witch smirks when she sees the anger start to slip from Harry's eyes, only to be replaced with momentary despair.

"Why are you doing this to him, Hermione?" Ron screams out, suddenly finding his voice after being quiet for so long. The pain from the Cruiciatus Curse finally wearing off.

"The Hermione that you all knew, or thought you knew, is gone. She was never there. I suggest you forget about her." She smiles as she hears the sound of several people Apparating into the antechamber.

Chaos ensues, as the goblins, who were sitting, silently stunned at the scene that had developed between the witch and wizard, were presently running about, crashing into the tables along the way as shouts and hexes fill the air as the Death-Eaters who Apparated in seconds before see Harry and Ron. Hermione grabs for Harry as he tries in vain to run behind the large front desk.

"Oh no you don't! You are coming with me!" the brunette hisses as she tightens her grip on the wizard's jacket.

The-Boy-Who-Lived wriggles free from the article of clothing and races down the corridor, deeper into the centre of the bank, with the newly arrived Death-Eaters hot on his trail.

The witch smirks as she watches Potter run blindly down the hall. "There is no escape... the Dark-Lord will have his head on a platter before nightfall," she says carelessly to no one in particular.

The red-haired wizard looks up at her, his face marred with his utter horror and disgust, "How could you? Harry is your friend! You traitor!"

Hermione just smirks at Ron's helpless form and grabs him by the collar of the robes he is wearing, "A friend? You really are a dumb git, aren't you?"

"What are you going to do to him? To me?"

"I will do nothing to him... he is for the Dark-Lord. You, however, your fate shall be worse than his," the brunette says darkly as she calls up an image in her head that she has been longing to see since she first left it a few weeks ago.