I AM HE AS YOU ARE HE AS YOU ARE ME.

AND WE ARE ALL TOGETHER.

-the Beatles

Suddenly everything around us bursts forth in a burst of color and shape. Like hands molding a ball of clay, our surroundings morph into that of a Hogwarts common room. Dusty red tapestries abound, gaudy red furniture. Gryffindor.

Oh please… "Really Granger? Nostalgic for school are we?"

"I don't know Bellatrix…I haven't exactly been in a coma for long…"

"But I've moved through your dreams…and they're infinitely more interesting than sitting on our arses at bloody Hogwarts."

A scarlet blush blooms across her face and spreads disease-like across her exposed skin. "You've seen my…"

"More than you could imagine. I know how you still think back to our time at my sister's manor." I close the distance between up and reach out to touch her terry-clothed shoulder. Shivers travel upward and she sucks in a breath of air through her teeth. My lips orbit her ear, so close both of our flesh makes contact. "Straddling you" I linger on the S. "…girl to girl."

With a harsh shove she pushes me away and immediately we're in a darkened room…wait…we're in a cage. Shackles and manacles are bolted to the walls, the humidity leaving droplets of moisture to fall down chains. I look to Hermione who stands a few feet away near the entrance to this cell. "Oh darling, you just want to make me feel more comfortable don't you!"

"Since nothing is sacred here…and I am the architect of my fantasy world, I'd love a go at torturing you." She takes a step forward and my own stomach does back flips. "For once, to be the one in control." The words are spoken through tightly gritted teeth. A vein protrudes even between the grooves of her furrowed forehead.

"Oh didn't mother tell you never to play with your food before you eat it!" My feet stay firmly planted in place as she draws nearer, a wicked grin on my face.

"Mother isn't here remember?" Her open palm connects with my left cheek and I'm knocked to the floor. The meat smack of my skin on the damp floor echoes off of the walls and my body lies sprawled. Fingers embed in my scalp and she rips my head up to look at her. "Just tenderizing." She says, her fist rearing back for the next strike.

SMACK!

Warm blood dribbles down my chin, the bridge of my nose likely shattered. I stumble across the floor, blinding feeling the clammy walls. A hand palms the back of my head, fingernails digging into my head like daggers.

CRACK!

My skull is rammed against the concrete and teeth break through the skin of my lips, blood pooling around my molars. She does it a second time, leaving a stamped outline of my cheek and lips on the wall.

"That's for my arm you bitch!" She snaps. "You've scarred me both on the outside and in!" The volume is steadily rising in her shrill voice. "For years I've never been the same! You haunt me everywhere. I see you everywhere, and I feel you everywhere! You crazy bitch!"

I can't help but giggle as I turn to face her. She's breathing heavily. Lungs like balloons under her ribs about to burst. "I love it when people talk dirty to me you know…"

She throws herself at me, and we both collide with the floor. One by one, fist by fist she unloads her love on me. Her jagged knuckles shred into me until they turn raw and gnarled.

Give it to me. I can handle it.

Pain shmain. This is nothing.

Tears fall like rain as she rails on me. Bits of my teeth are probably in my esophagus by now.

And I decide that I probably deserve this. But I want this. I crave her anger.

"Why won't you fight back!" She screams through her boo-hooing.

I'd answer but it's a bit difficult to form well-thought retorts when one has a broken jaw. The punches continue to come rapid fire and the blood is now pouring down my chest into my corset.

Any more hits to my head and I'll probably die.

Oh wait…I'm already dead.

Her fists must not be enough to sate her effervescent rage. Now she's conjured a knife in her right hand.

Rip me open.

Fingers wrap around the wrist of my left arm as she yanks it rail straight. She holds the knife and stabs me bodkin-like and begins to carve enormous jagged script into my skin.

P

U

R
E
B
L
O
O
D

"Disgusting, incestuous, pureblooded freak!" She continues to carve into me. Everywhere the tip penetrates burns like battery acid. My blood seeps all over the floor of our cell. She digs so deeply, she tears through ligaments and veins with each letter. A mess.

Finally she collapses against me and we both slide to the ground, completely out of breath. Her arms snake around my waist and she hugs herself tightly against me. Blood is soaking onto her bathrobe. My blood.

"I hate you…" She's whispering between gasps. "So much…you messed me up so much…"

I stroke her hair, even though the fingers of my hand are completely red with blood. "Hush. I've been dead ten years now. All this turmoil you feel…it's entirely your own. You've been orchestrating your own self-destruction."

She recoils violently. "Stop with your poisonous words!" Her fingertips are imbedded so deeply into her ears.

Crawling toward her I snarl. "This is a prison you've built all your own. I've been trapped here, forced to watch you flounder after the war had ended. And now that we're both contained within your bloody subconscious, fool, you best do something about it!"

I couldn't fault the girl for being vulnerable. As she's clinging to me like a child does.

I have the biggest urge to stroke her hair, to tell her it will be alright but she hasn't exactly allowed my wounds to heal. My face is so painfully swollen and she's too busy wallowing in her own self-pity to notice or care.

"I suppose that now you'll throw me in some dungeon. Rape me day in and day out!" She cries.

"HERMIONE. Dearest. Who do you take me for? I do not rape. A woman of my stature does not stoop to such levels. Torture is an art-form. Rape is just despicable. Even I have standards you know."

"And you're not harassing me. None of this makes sense. You say we're inside of my head...but you're actually dead. And I'm not..."

"Death is a mere technicality. I've seen then world through your eyes for then past ten years. Saved you from the Weasel seed for ten years."

"The headaches...the migraines..."

"Well Molly did kill me. Quite thoroughly might I add. I'm sure there was nothing to bury."

"There wasn't." She admits.

"Well see it from my perspective...I've been having a crisis of faith a decade in duration. The very blood that nourishes and sustains me now…I was trained to murder out of people!"

"And you expect me to sympathize...just like that?"

"Well...yes!"

"I'm sorry this is just too much to take in at once. If I can't have my medication, then I need to lie down."

"By all means, lie down on this cold cell floor. Have plenty of experience with that." To my surprise she curls into a ball, resting her head on my lap. "For Merlin's sake girl, make our surroundings more comfortable at least!"

The colors around us swirl and shapes begin to take form and we find ourselves in a what appears to be a teenage girls bedroom. She immediately crosses toward the small four-poster bed and hurls her body across it. How nice, taking a nap while I sit here to bleed out. I sit on the edge of her bed and stare back at her through my swollen eyes. She doesn't notice or care. So I clear my throat loudly.

"What is it?"

I gesticulate around my swollen, bloodied face and shrug expectantly. A courtesy perhaps?

She nods in exasperation and immediately I feel my wounds begin to heal and my face reform. A younger looking me is staring back through the vanity mirror across the room. I look like I'm 25 again. This is how she sees me, youthful, vibrant. Even my hair is calm in texture. My fingertips trace the contours of my face, and I find myself short of breath. Though the PUREBLOOD still remains a jagged brand across my arm.

Hermione is laying down on the bed bleary eyed watching me dissect my reflection.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

"Such cynicism, it's almost palpable..." I roll my eyes. "I look…younger."

"Well, it's harder to be afraid of something beautiful…" She murmurs, her eyes connecting with mine within the mirrors reflection.

Beautiful. I can't recall the last time someone bestowed that upon me. Usually that word was set aside for Cissy and Andy. Never for poor Bella. This is making me quite uncomfortable. "So tell me...is this your room?"

"Was. At least how I remember it..." she says wistfully.

Emotional artifacts are everywhere, set in frames across her bed stand and photos taped to her walls. Happier times I'm sure. Times before war.

A part of me wants to tell her things will be all right, but the time might not be just right. We're not quite reacquainted…to be honest I only knew the girl as an…abomination of sorts while I was alive. But seeing her here now, as a fully-grown woman, crumbling under the weight of her own life, I suddenly find myself faltering. I feel a sudden urge to comfort her.

I shrug it off, temporary insanity.

"Whenever I was home for holiday, I'd spend a lot of time in here. Watching the walls and ceilings perhaps hoping and wishing that somehow I'd end up back at Hogwarts or Hogsmede. Mum and Dad would throw parties and have all of their professional friends over, all of whom were muggles, and I'd stand muted unable to say anything to them. Magic was frowned upon in this house."

"Muggles simply cannot appreciate the value."

"I suppose, but a muggle is taught that magic is all illusion. Smoke and mirrors. A slight of hand." She says. "So imagine mum and dad's surprise to learn it doesn't quite work that way. If I wanted to pull a rabbit out of my arse I could. No need for props."

"And why, pray tell, would the rabbit need to be there in the first place?"

And she laughs, lightly but the smile she makes is beautiful. Rolling onto her side she hugs a pillow to her chest and snuggles into it. "That's besides the point Bella…though I'm sure you're probably considering it a torture technique."

"As tempting as that may be…I'm not exactly in the right mode to torture." I am trapped inside this girl's head afterall.

We sit in silence for who knows how long. Hermione looks like a corpse upon her bed, fish-eyed staring at the ceiling.

"Girl, you're already in a coma…do you insist on having another?"

"Well I retreat to here for comfort. And you're making it uncomfortable. And I'm sorry you're bored but this is my mind." She says. "What did you just say before? You're just a tenant."

"Right…and that would make you the landlord. See to my needs! I'm unhappy here!"

Suddenly we appear on a busy street in the Suburbs of London. A sea of humanity rushes by us like clockwork, each person like a missile on a set trajectory. And now we walk along with them.

"You know," She says to me, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her bathrobe. "Harry and I used to wonder what it'd be like if we had our own double agent for the Order…like if you were a spy for us…perhaps half of what happened wouldn't…"

If the rolling of my eyes could produce sound, it'd be deafening. So I settle upon laughing loudly.

"What!" She sounds incredulous.

"Me? Serving the Order? Darling I haven't heard something so utterly superfluous in such a long time."

"We thought it was a possibility that you were possessed! Brainwashed even! Your hatred of all things muggle seemed comical!"

"Hermione if I divulge to you the dirty secrets of my past…what made me me…you'd understand why that would just never happen."

"Really? Even looking back now, after you've…died…you couldn't see that Lord Voldemort was halfway up the creek without a paddle?" She says with a giggle. It's like music.

"Hermione, look at yourself. Your own body is rejecting itself because of it's blood. Though now I accept that it might not be your fault what blood flows through your veins…"

"Right…just like I can accept the decades of inbreeding that eventually resulted in you."

"Touche." She has me there. "Now Hermione…are we just going to sit here waiting for you to wake up or are we actually going to have some fun?"

"Fun? With a psychopath?"

"Sociopath." I had to correct her.

"Right. So what do you suggest?"

"Something completely daring. Lets commit a crime!"

"A crime?" She asks with an adorable tilt of her head.

"Take us to Gringotts!"