Murder Most Horrid

Chapter 7: Confronting the suspect

And so Bellatrix and Hermione spent the morning lazying about in bed, chatting, snuggling, drinking their tea and generally enjoying themselves. For Bellatrix, this was new terrain; oh she had had plenty of one-nighters before, but Hermione was the first in a long while whom had actually stayed with her afterward. It was not that she was complaining, of course, but she was sort of at a loss what to do. The best thing she could come up with was to let the young witch come up with the ideas and take it from there.

"I should be studying, you know?" Hermione spoke while Bellatrix took a moment to nuzzle the nape of her neck.

"I'm glad you're not," Bellatrix replied. "Besides, it's Sunday."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I am too," the young witch shifted and lay her head on the dark witch's shoulder. The young witch looked to be really comfortable using Bellatrix as her pillow. "What do you want to do?"

"Well," Bellatrix smirked and stroked the brunette's cheek. "I might have an idea or two."

"I was thinking more along the lines of breakfast and spending the rest of the day," Hermione replied with a smile.

"Ah, that's boring," Bellatrix groaned slightly.

Hermione thought for a moment. "Well, what do you usually do on a Sunday?"

"Working. Or when I'm not working, I'm usually catching up on the sleep I missed the rest of the week," Bellatrix said. "I'll be honest, pet, I have no idea how to entertain you today. This is new and unfamiliar terrain for me."

Hermione seemed lost in thought for a moment. Bellatrix raised an eyebrow in response. "Pet, you're about to say something I'm really not going to like, aren't you?"

A half-smile appeared on Hermione's face. "Bellatrix. What if... I showed you the Muggle world?"

The moments the words came out of Hermione's mouth, the dark witch felt as if a ton of bricks had landed on her. "You want me to do what?!" she blurted out. "Are you daft? I might catch something!"

"You must have wondered," Hermione pressed.

"Are you high?!" Bellatrix raised her voice. "NO!"

"Come now, there's a whole world out there to explore which you never knew existed," Hermione tried as she rolled on top of the older witch and looked her in the eyes. "Don't tell me you're not curious."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes, grabbed the sides of Hermione's head and kissed her on the lips in a vain attempt to shut her up. "You're insane. I'm sure the Muggle world is nice and all that, but... it has all manner of smelly Muggles in it! That's a bit of a downside, don't you think?"

Hermione sighed briefly. "You do realize my parents are Muggles, right?"

The dark witch sighed as Hermione rolled on her side, waiting for her reply. "Alright, I'm willing to accept that some Muggles might be somewhat less smelly than others."

Hermione sat up and slipped out of bed. "You see?" she called back after slipping into the living room, presumably to pick up her clothes. A disappointed Bellatrix realized there'd be no more bed fun this morning; another thing to blame on the smelly Muggles! A few moments later, Hermione came back and tossed her clothes on the bed. "You don't even realize just how prejudiced you are. Come on, get dressed."

Grumbling, the dark witch complied. Hermione was all but determined to show her the Muggle world. "I don't think this is a good idea, pet."

The young witch looked at her in an imperious, determined and, most of all, cute manner. "The best way to eliminate prejudice is to educate!"

Bellatrix cocked her head sideways. "You honestly believe that, don't you?"

"I do, and it might be helpful for your work too. What if one of your cases requires you to go to the Muggle world?"

Bellatrix shrugged. "I'd hand it to Richards. He's a half-blood with Muggle experience."

"God, you are impossible!" Hermione pressed. "Look, you're going with me to the Muggle world whether you like it or not!"

Bellatrix crossed her arms; she'd heard of Hermione's tendency to be bossy from Draco, but she had not experienced it. Gone was the timid, shy girl she'd taken to her bed yesterday. In fact, the young woman in front of her just might be getting a little too assertive. If Hermione had addressed her like this yesterday, she might just have thrown the young witch out on her arse. As it stood now, however, Bellatrix found the young witch's new-found confidence amusing.

Still, going into the Muggle world? She'd have to wear old clothes because she feared she would never get the smell out. Any self-respecting Black would never set foot in the Muggle world by voluntary choice.

Then again, Andromeda had and she definitely wasn't insane. And, of course, Bellatrix was a Black... and a Black could do anything and excel at it, even if that would include going to the Muggle world. Honestly, toujours pur. What had it ever done for her lately? What had it done for her ever?

"Oh, I can't believe I'm doing this," Bellatrix sighed heavily.

"You will?!" Hermione uttered in complete surprise until she caught herself. "Oh, you will!" she added after regaining her confidence.

"Let's get it over with, then."

First, however, a shower would be on the menu. To her delight, Bellatrix found out that her tiny shower actually fit two people if they squeezed together tightly. Hermione hissed when Bellatrix pushed her bare back against the cold tiles of the shower wall. They kissed hungrily underneath the hot water raining down upon them from the shower-head. The dark witch's arms wrapped around Hermione, causing the young witch to moan into her mouth as breasts pressed against breasts and abdomen pressed against abdomen. To her delight, Bellatrix noted that Hermione had become quite a bit more aggressive since last night; the young woman's arms snaked around her back, raking her nails along her spine until her hands rested on her behind.

From birth, Bellatrix had been taught that pure-bloods were the very paragons of wizardkind, the best, the brightest and the most powerful of all wielders of magic. Later in life, the dark witch had seen just too many drooling, inbred idiot pure-bloods to believe that was strictly true.

Right now, in her very arms, was such a wonderful creature; intelligent, beautiful and possessing such a gentle spirit, full of drive, full of hope. She was a mudblood showing all the qualities pure-bloods were supposed to possess and more. Bellatrix moaned slightly when she felt a soft hand glide over her back until it rested on the back of her head. Their tongues swirled around one other after their lips met yet again.

Bellatrix grinned before kissing a trail from Hermione's chin, across her neck before gently biting down on Hermione's shoulder. This sweet, wonderful girl was like putty in her hands.

Yes, Hermione was a mudblood. And no, Bellatrix couldn't care less. Because Hermione Granger was magnificent.

After stretching the inevitable for about half an hour of bonus sensual pleasures, Bellatrix was standing in front of the mirror while Hermione transfigured her clothing for the trip. "Tell me again why I can't wear my regular clothes?"

"Hm, they rather stand out," Hermione said as she put the finishing touch. "Not many people wear corsets these days. How's this?"

Bellatrix wasn't impressed with her visage. A nondescript pair of brown boots, a pair of blue jeans with matching belt and, worst of all, a slightly oversized pink fuzzy sweater. "I look ridiculous. And why am I so pink?"

"I think you look nice."

"Just a slight alteration," Bellatrix said as she tapped the pink sweater with her wand, changing the color into a deep black. After putting on her silver jackdaw-skull pendant, she felt she was somewhat presentable at least. The jeans didn't have a holster for her wand, so she would have to hide it in her coat.

Though the Leaky Cauldron was only a few streets away and she had been there countless times before, the trip felt as if taking a century. Her entire career, she had avoided the Muggle-world like the plague, sticking to the hidden wizarding quarters, or using either the floo network to get around or even flying over Muggle-London on a broom from far above. And now, because of a girl, she'd be jumping head-first into the abyss.

Without speaking a word after entering the pub, Bellatrix watched as Hermione approached the one exit to the Leaky Cauldron she had never, ever used. Hermione offered her an encouraging smile, but it was not enough.

"Just a moment," she told Hermione and rushed over to the bar. "Horace, fire-whiskey, please. And make it a double."

"There you go, luv. I'll just put it on the slate," replied the friendly bartender on duty.

Bellatrix gulped down the beverage in one go and slammed down the glass, feeling the alcohol burn all the way down to her stomach.

"Little bit of dutch courage," Bellatrix told Hermione as the girl shot her a questioning look. "I'm ready."

Bellatrix took a very deep breaths. 'Come on, Bella, you can do this. You're a Black. You can do anything.' Breathing what she thought would be the last clean air she would get for the rest of the day, she stepped through the portal...

… and ended up in a total cacophony of lights and sounds. Bellatrix wasn't insipid, as she had had contact with some snippets of Muggle society. She had seen cars before. Just never moving. And never so fast. And never so many. And never so loud. All around here were lights, people, unfamiliar noises, assault her from all sides. In fact, she almost panicked right on the spot. With wide eyes, she stepped onto the road.

"WATCH OUT!" she heard Hermione scream before being yanked back onto the sidewalk by her belt. One of the cars, a black cab, whizzed past her. It had literally missed her by a hair.

"OY!" shouted the Muggle from the car. "Watch where you're going, you barmy bint!"

Not about to be insulted by an inferior being, Bellatrix whipped out her wand and snarled as she was about to fire off a nasty hex to the driver in retaliation.

"NO!" Hermione gasped and yanked down Bellatrix' arm.

Bellatrix snapped her head towards Hermione, her anger more than apparent. "So far this isn't helping much to eliminate the prejudice," she hissed through clenched teeth as she stared daggers at the car now speeding away.

"There's rude people in the wizarding world too," Hermione said and Bellatrix reluctantly had to agree with that. Once sufficiently calmed down, Bellatrix followed Hermione, her guide through this strange and alien land. In fact, Bellatrix felt much like Orpheus stumbling through the underworld and, if she remembered the story correctly, it hadn't exactly ended well for Orpheus.

And Muggles. Oh, Merlin, there were so many of them. On the streets, on the sidewalks, in the buildings, in the shops... there was no avoiding them. Bellatrix literally slalomed around them, always keeping at least a three foot distance. She literally felt all eyes burning into her.

"Bellatrix, what are you doing?" Hermione said as she stopped walking.

"They're all looking at me, pet," Bellatrix hissed. "OY! WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT, YOU FILTHY ANIMAL?!" she shot at a Muggle who dared to get a little too close to her.

Hermione grumbled slightly. "That's because you are making a spectacle of yourself! Just take a few deep breaths and calm yourself. Just act normal; you don't slalom around people in the wizarding world and you shouldn't do it here."

"This was a mistake!" Bellatrix hissed angrily.

"Just calm down. Don't focus on them, focus on me," said Hermione.

Bellatrix grinned. "Now that I can do."

"Focus on me, not on my bum," Hermione grinned while more Muggles passed them by.

"No promises, pet," Bellatrix smirked.

Thankfully, ignoring the Muggles meant that the Muggles ignored her. Further walks through Muggle London were blissfully uneventful, especially since Hermione was leading her through streets which were a lot more quiet. The Muggle world was loud, crass and crowded. The term concrete jungle came to mind; the buildings were much larger and higher than she was used to seeing in the wizarding world. And so much glass. Once calmed down, Bellatrix concluded that there were plenty of things to see and Hermione was gracious enough about answering the many questions Bellatrix bombarded her with.

"What's that?" Bellatrix pointed out a fat Muggle with a briefcase talking into a small box next to his ear.

"Hm?" Hermione looked. "Oh, that's a mobile phone. I thought those'd be a fad but you see more of them every day."

"What does it do?"

"You can use it to call someone and talk to another person."

"Oh, so it's like an owl?"

"Something like that, yes. Only it's a bit faster."

Bellatrix highly doubted that. "It can't be faster than a high-speed owl, surely," she huffed.

"It's, well, instantaneous."

"Uh-huh," Bellatrix snorted. "Pull the other one, pet."

Since Hermione didn't say anything else on the matter, Bellatrix assumed her first victory over the Muggle world. Surely, nothing could be faster than a high-speed owl when it came to communication!

Hermione led her into something called the tube, some sort of underground transportation device which would carry them to another part of London. The first thing that hit the dark witch were the sheer number of people in those man-made underground caverns; it certainly made her very uncomfortable. Muggles were all around her, and Bellatrix found herself staying near the walls of the station, watching them pass by her with suspicion. Fortunately, the Muggles seemed to be mostly concerned with whatever mundane thoughts were in their tiny brains and paid her no mind as they shuffled along.

She looked on curiously as Hermione put some coins in a section of the wall which produced a ticket. Wasn't there a seller? Or maybe the ticket-seller was behind the wall, would take the money and shove out a ticket. Bellatrix shook her head; the Muggles certainly mistreated their workers. The poor seller didn't even have a window!

"Here's your ticket," Hermione handed her her ticket. Holding her breath, Bellatrix reluctantly queued up among the horrible smelly Muggles. Thankfully, Hermione was behind her so that was at least one less Muggle in her vicinity. The next hurdle was the turnstyle. Bellatrix found herself funneled to a small set of double doors. With her ticket in hand, she waited. And waited.

"Come on, open!" she commanded the doors while she held the ticket in front of her. "I have a ticket. Pet, why doesn't it open?"

Hermione took the ticket and put it in the turnstyle. It processed her ticket, it came out of the top and the little doors opened.

"Oh," said Bellatrix, while several of Muggles looked at her as if she was the biggest idiot they had ever seen. She shot a few dirty looks back; Bellatrix wasn't about be judged by magicless inferior beings.

By the time they had arrived at the escalator, there were even more people packed together. More tunnels, more turns, more stairs as they navigated the labyrinthine London Underground. Finally, the platform was in sight. To Bellatrix, it seemed to be a little excessive to travel in such a manner, but even moreso, she found herself in a confined space with masses of smelly Muggles pressed together on a train which was way too small for her sensibilities. The dark witch pressed her back against the side of the train, holding on to her hidden wand tightly; if any of these Muggles would make just one false move, she'd rain down magic doom on all of them to protect herself and Hermione. Secrecy be damned!

Thankfully, for them, the Muggles all minded their own business. Apparently sensing her distress, Hermione squeezed her hand.

Being released from the tubes and spewed out into the street with the rest of the Muggles, Bellatrix could finally breathe easily again. Odd, really. She wasn't usually this claustrophobic.

"Merlin," Bellatrix hissed. "How could anyone live like this?!"

"Sorry. I traveled with the tube so often I forgot it might be jarring for a first-timer. We'll take the bus back, I think," Hermione tried to comfort her.

"The Knight Bus, I hope."

"That would be contrary to having a Muggle experience."

"Bugger the Muggle experience in its magicless inferior Muggle arse!"

The young witch had chosen to start off the day with something light; she was going to take Bellatrix to see her very first Muggle movie. As Hermione explained, she had picked a movie without much explicit Muggle references in it so she could follow the storyline. Bellatrix couldn't help but feel a little insulted; though she understood Hermione's reasoning, it felt as if she was being talked down to as if she were a child.

The movie which Hermione had picked was A Bug's Life, a recent release. It was much like a moving photograph, only longer... and with sound. It was some sort of insipid story about anthropomorphic grasshoppers taking over some anthropomorphic anthill, so the anthropomorphic ants tried to gather a group of anthropomorphic insect warriors to take it back. It was all very... anthropomorphic. To be honest, Bellatrix couldn't care less about the movie itself: she was there for Hermione, and if it made the girl happy, Bellatrix would suffer through it. In fact, she was more interested in the techniques behind how the Muggles made this work without magic.

"How did they make this?" Bellatrix whispered.

"They used computers," Hermione whispered back.

Bellatrix leaned in again. "What are computers?" was the next obvious question.

"It'll take too long to explain," said Hermione. "Besides, I'm not really sure how they work exactly."

"I thought you were a genius."

"Not on computers!"

"SSSSSSSSSSSSTTT" sounded behind them.

When the movie was over, the two witches stood in the street in front of the cinema and Hermione looked at her with questioning eyes.

"Well?" she asked.

"Well what?"

"What did you think?"

"It was... different."

"Did you like it?"

"Like I said, it was different."

"You didn't like it."

"Didn't say that."

"You implied it."

"I... suppose."

"Maybe you need to see more films before you draw a definite conclusion."

"Perhaps. Not today, though. I've had all the anthropomorphic talking insects I can handle."

"Remind me to show you a television programme my dad always liked. It's called 'Columbo' and it's about a Muggle police detective solving murders. I suspect you might quite like it," Hermione said. "Lots of Muggle references, though."

"Alright," Bellatrix nodded, and had to admit she was quite intrigued on a professional level to know how Muggles would solve murders without any form of magical aid.

That answer seemed to satisfy Hermione. The next item on their list was the science museum which was, thankfully, close enough to the cinema to avoid another trip through the tube. The two chatted for a bit while walking to the museum and Bellatrix noted that, once again, Hermione had an unearthly shade of pale on her complexion. It worried her somewhat, even though it didn't seem to bother Hermione all that much. Maybe it was a Muggle-born thing?

The museum itself was much like the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, only bigger. In fact, it was a hell of a lot bigger. There were hundreds upon hundreds of contraptions ranging from machines to cars to toys. One was stranger than the next and, to be honest, she wouldn't have want to spend much time there if it hadn't been for Hermione's boundless enthusiasm. It was infectious to a point that Bellatrix had no real interest in many of the Muggle contraptions, but quite enjoyed listening to Hermione talk about them.

Hermione did her best to dutifully answer each and every question and this was also when Bellatrix, to her delight, found out that Hermione didn't know everything. Often she'd have to consult the sign next to a device to help explain its purpose. It seemed there were things in the Muggle world to complicated even for Hermione to grasp.

As time progressed, it became less about learning and more about trying to ruffle Hermione's feathers. In particularly, she learned that Hermione had an intense dislike for machines called 'computers', so it became a sport for her to ask as many questions as possible related to these computers.

After pestering Hermione about some Muggle named Alan Turing, Bellatrix spotted a giant metal tube with wings and a glass canopy which was suspended from the ceiling. "What's that?" she asked.

"That is a harrier jet," Hermione replied. "It's one of the Muggle airplanes that mister Weasley is so fond of."

"How does it work?"

"It's physics, really. Aerodynamics."

"You've lost me."

"Well, you see, because of the shape of the wings, the speed of the aircraft causes the air underneath the wings to push the airplane off the ground. This is called lift. The airplane will stay in the air as long as it keeps a decent speed, because the force of the lift is greater than the weight of the plane."

"Hm, I see," Bellatrix rubbed her chin. "Clever. It's like how the enchanted paper planes at the office work, but on a larger scale. I take it, it uses one of those engines you showed me earlier to keep it at proper speed, correct?"

When Bellatrix looked at Hermione, she saw an utterly stunned expression on the young woman's face. "What?" Bellatrix asked.

"You... you get it?" Hermione blinked. "You understand how aerodynamics work."

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow as the perceived insult. "Why wouldn't I? It's a simple enough concept."

"Because I've tried to explain this to mister Weasley a dozen times over and he just doesn't understand."

"That's because I'm Bellatrix Black and not a complete Weasley pillock, pet," Bellatrix said. "A more important question would be if it's got a computer on board."

"Yes," Hermione hissed through clenched teeth. "It has a flight computer on board."

Bellatrix grinned wickedly. "So a flight computer is different from a regular computer then?"

"YES! Uh, I mean, no. Uh, ack, it doesn't matter!" Hermione retorted. "It has a computer on board, just take my word for it and leave me alone!"

Bellatrix crossed her arms. "I thought you were here to educate me. So why aren't you answering my questions?" she asked, faking to sound as hurt and offended as possible.

"Argh!"

Leaving Hermione to simmer for a while, she pointed at a large metal arm with a grasping device at the end. "What does that contraption do?"

"That is a factory construction robot," Hermione said. "You can give it a set of instructions and it will follow it very precisely. They're accurate to the millimeter."

"Can you tell it to punch someone in the face?"

Hermione blinked. "I... suppose. But I can't imagine why you would want it to do that."

"Can you make it shoot fire out of its arse?"

"Oh, now you're just toying with me!"

"Correct," Bellatrix nodded. "So... you tell it what to do by using a computer?"

"ARGH!"

"I'll take that as a 'yes', then."

When they finally left the museum, it was nearly evening. Bellatrix and Hermione were both feeling a bit peckish and the young witch led them to a nearby Subways for some custom made sandwiches. Bellatrix let Hermione pick the food and drinks and they brought them out to Hyde park where they sat down on one of the benches, near a lamppost. Bellatrix was thankful for this decision, as the park was relatively deserted. A welcome change after all the bustle of Muggle London.

"I grew up in places like that," said Hermione after giving Bellatrix her drink and sandwich. "My parents worked long hours and often came home late. Most weekdays, I had to fend for myself when it came to food. Family dinners were a bit of a luxury."

"They just let you… walk around the city alone and unprotected? How old were you?" Bellatrix blinked.

Hermione shrugged. "Seven or eight. It stopped when I started attending Hogwarts."

A mental image of a seven year old Hermione, cheerfully walking along the streets of London wearing her little teddy-bear shaped backpack, surrounded by tens of thousands of Muggle murderers, thieves, muggers and rapists, not to mention hundreds upon thousands of dangerous cars, shot through her head. It was incomprehensible. What kind of awful parents did Hermione have?!

"But isn't that incredibly dangerous? There's Muggles everywhere in this city!"

"Nah," shrugged Hermione. "It's perfectly safe as long as you don't do anything stupid, like getting into someone's car or taking shortcuts through a dark alley."

"That would have been unthinkable when I was that age," said Bellatrix. "My father was rather paranoid. There were bodyguards wherever the three of us went. Oh, they kept their distance, but we were constantly watched. I couldn't really move about freely until I went to Hogwarts. It was rather annoying to go back home for summer and then being stalked by hired goons again, though. Heh, I made a bit of a sport out of it to give them the slip, really. The worst times is when I had a girl round; it's hard to get into a romantic mood when there's three burly wizards watching your every move."

"That sounds rather restrictive," Hermione shook her head. "I don't think I could live like that."

"Hah, I couldn't either!" Bellatrix laughed. "Much to my father's dismay, I figured out a lot of creative escape routes."

"I can imagine," smiled Hermione.

"I'll give the Muggles this," said Bellatrix in between bites. "They do know how to make a sandwich."

It was then that Hermione broke out in a coughing fit. A very bad one, in fact. For a moment, a worried Bellatrix thought that the young witch was choking on her food. However, she hadn't had a single bite yet. Hermione doubled over as she coughed, with a pained expression on her face.

"Are you alright, pet?" Bellatrix asked while placing a hand on her shoulder. "That's a nasty cough you got there."

"I'll be fine," Hermione clutched herself for a moment. "Just give me a moment."

"Are you sure?" Bellatrix with some concern. Hermione just smiled and nodded briefly. The two ate their sandwiches in silence.

"So," Hermione finally asked. "Thoughts?"

"You in a see-through camisole. In my bed. Waiting for me."

Hermione playfully slapped her against the shoulder. "About Muggles, of course."

"Hm, don't get me wrong," Bellatrix started. "They're still inferior creatures, but they're not the mud-wallowing idiots I took them for. I think they discovered some pretty clever ways to cope with living without magic. But they'll always be inferior, don't forget that."

"It's a start," Hermione smiled. "So, what did you like most?"

Bellatrix held up her drink.

"Cola?" Hermione looked incredulously at her. "After all the wonders I've shown you, the thing that impressed you the most is an acidic sugar-drink?!"

Bellatrix shrugged, sucking on the straw for good measure. "'s good. And sugary."

"Unbelievable," Hermione rolled her eyes, but couldn't contain her mirth.

The two witches sat next to each other for a moment, simply enjoying the evening. The sky was lit in a beautiful orange glow as the sun was setting over the city. The sound of cars driving by faded in the distance as the balmy night progressed. The conversation drifted towards heavier topics, however.

"I never asked why you were exiled from your family," Hermione asked. "If that's something you don't want to talk about, it's alright."

Bellatrix smiled at her; the young woman had been asking all sorts of questions about her. That was only natural, she supposed. "It's fine. It's all ancient history anyway. I was exiled because I refused to marry the man I had been promised to."

Hermione looked at her with sympathy in her eyes. "You were exiled for refusing to marry? That's awful. Were… were your parents abusive?"

Bellatrix shook her head and let out a brief laugh. "Good heavens, no! Why does everybody immediately assume that? They weren't abusive at all. In fact, my father cried when he exiled me. They tried for months to try to get me to change my mind, but I was stubborn as all hell. Exile, well... I suspect they thought cutting me off from the family fortune would make me run back to them with my tail between my legs. I'd have been able to go back to my family, if I'd only change my mind about marrying Rodolphus Lestrange."

"But you never did," Hermione said. There was admiration in her voice.

"Obviously not," Bellatrix winked. "Instead they found out just how stubborn I can be. Oh, they tried to keep in contact through letters; they didn't consider me a blood traitor after all. I never answered any of those letters. In the end, my parents chose keeping up appearances and insipid family traditions over me. I never forgave them for that. And what they did to my sister Andromeda was far, far worse. I never forgave them for that either."

The young witch looked at her with pity in her beautiful eyes. Were she anyone else, Bellatrix might have snapped at her. As it was, Bellatrix allowed her to lean into her. She felt Hermione's warmth and simply enjoyed her being so near to her. "You never spoke to them again?" the young witch asked.

"No," Bellatrix shook her head. "The last time I saw father was at my mother's funeral. He wouldn't even so much as look at me."

"Maybe he was ashamed," replied Hermione.

Bellatrix let her hand slide over Hermione's side while she enjoyed the smell of the girl's hair. "Ashamed of me? Hah, likely."

"No," Hermione said. "You're so quick to think the worst of people. I meant, maybe he was ashamed of what he did to you."

Bellatrix looked at Hermione for a moment. "If I'm too quick to think the worst of people, pet, you are too quick to think the best of them. What about you, hm?" Bellatrix asked. "Any brothers? Sisters?"

"I'm an only child," said Hermione. "It was just me, mum and dad."

"Bet you were spoiled rotten," grinned Bellatrix.

"Something like that," Hermione chuckled. "We Grangers are a pretty big and close-knit family. I have so many aunts, uncles, cousins. I don't get along with all of them... Honestly, I don't get along with most of them. But I can't imagine never being allowed to talk to any of them ever again. I've had plenty of dealings with pure-bloods in Hogwarts, but knowing that pure-blood families can be so severe rather explains why so many pure-bloods in Slytherin are so mean-spirited."

Bellatrix looked away. "If it hadn't been for my sisters, I might not have made it through being exiled," she almost whispered. It made her wish that she had never said it; Bellatrix hated being vulnerable and she had shared so many hidden things with this girl she had only known for a few days. It was madness in a way. At least it felt right. Some of those stories had been begging to be told for decades.

"You must have had friends to help you," Hermione spoke.

Bellatrix closed her eyes and let out a sigh. She was sharing secrets and she had already shown her vulnerability. Might as well go all the way, then. Might as well tell her about Katie.

"Pet," Bellatrix started. "I've haven't been entirely honest with you. About why I joined magical law enforcement, I mean."

"Oh?"

"That picture you saw. The one I took away from you?" Bellatrix asked. "There was another girl in the frame. A girl named Katie. I was in my seventh year, about your age. I met her a month or two after I had been exiled. I think my parents finally realized that I wasn't coming back. I was free, but I had no idea what I was going to do with myself. I snuck out of Hogwarts almost on a daily basis; I knew all the tricks, all the secret passages... I mostly went to Hogsmeade to get away from everything. The might also have been some underage drinking involved. I met Katie during one of those outings. She was an Australian witch, a half-blood."

"I'm surprised you let a half-blood into your circle back then."

"Why not?" Bellatrix shrugged. "I was a mess. I had no idea what to do with my life anyway, so it didn't matter to me. Not anymore. Katie was a backpacker. She was two years older than me and wanted to see the world. She took a temporary job at Hogsmeade and was planning to explore the wizarding world of the UK. A lot more adventurous than I was, that's for sure. It was Katie who encouraged me to join the Department."

"There's plenty of backpackers in the Muggle world too," Hermione said. "I suppose it's something a lot of Australians do. Australian wizards too, I suppose. Was she a girlfriend?"

Bellatrix shook her head. "No. No, she wasn't. She was a friend. A real friend. My only real friend. I've had some friendly relations with some Slytherins when I was in school, but most of the people who approached me were sycophants looking to attach themselves to the Black family name. Katie wasn't like that. Hell, she didn't even know who the Blacks were until I told her. She wasn't the brightest or the most powerful witch the world, but she had a kind soul... and she didn't know when to quit. I told her so many times to bugger off and leave me alone, complete with appropriate hexes, but that only made her come back more determined. It took a while, but we became friends," Bellatrix said. "She... she was going to show me Australia. She'd arranged it and everything; we were going to stay at her uncle's house in Melbourne. Seems so silly now."

"What happened to her?"

Bellatrix closed her eyes. It still hurt after all this time. "They found her at the bottom of the stairs of the Three Broomsticks with a broken neck."

"Oh god," Hermione put her head on Bellatrix's shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. Not your fault," Bellatrix said. "Thing is, I found out that day that a Lestrange doesn't appreciate being spurned. I passed Rodolphus in Slytherin hall, I was very upset... and he just flashes me the most malicious grin he could muster. It was then that I knew, I just knew he was behind it. Katie and I were just friends, but... he probably thought he was taking care of the... competition."

Bellatrix looked down at the dirt of the path, closed her eyes and gritted her teeth for a moment. "The Department sent over some self-important idiot who proclaimed it to be... a tragic accident. I couldn't believe it. I begged him to look into Rodolphus, told him what I knew, but he didn't act on it. They just said I was too grief-stricken to think straight. I tried so hard, but... I just couldn't prove it. So yeah, Rodolphus killed Katie. Because of me. And he got away with it."

Bellatrix leant into Hermione, pressing the young witch against her. "I've never told anyone. I don't even really know why I'm telling you this now," Bellatrix whispered. "I joined the Department because I believed I could do better."

"Thank you for trusting me," Hermione said.

"I'll do more than that, pet," Bellatrix gently pressed her lips against Hermione's, kissing her hungrily. The two embraced, reveling in the moment. And the moment was wonderful; it had been so long ago since she had felt like this. Content. Happy, even. Yes, she dared to admit it. She was happy. She'd almost forgotten what that felt like. Hell, she hadn't even thought of work once today, which was unique in itself.

While they were kissing, a couple of youths rode by on things she had learned today were bicycles. The young men hollered and cheered at them as they cycled around them before they went on their merry way. After they finally broke the kiss, Bellatrix whispered in her ear. "I think I need to have you back at my apartment very quickly."

As it was said, so it was done. And, as promised, they took the bus back to the entrance to the wizarding world. Just before Bellatrix's raunchy behaviour on the bus could ruffle the feathers of a few prim and proper old Muggle ladies, they found themselves at their destination and spilled through the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron, sharing plenty of eager kisses on the way home.

Once in the apartment, Hermione plopped down on the sofa while Bellatrix headed off into the kitchen to fetch some glasses for wine. After all, lovemaking was best when some anticipation was involved; some wine, some chatting, some kissing... The dark witch was gearing up to gift her Hermione an even better experience than the night before.

However, when Bellatrix came out of the kitchen with the glasses and a bottle in hand, she was shocked to find Hermione hugging herself as she bent forward. Worse yet, she was shivering like a reed in the wind. "Pet, what's wrong?" a worried Bellatrix said while putting down the glasses and the wine on the dressoir and rushed towards her.

Hermione looked up with deep red blood-shot eyes, her hands trembling ever so slightly. "I... I'm sorry, but I think I can't stay. I need to get back to Hogwarts. I need to go..."

"Bollocks, if you're not feeling well, perhaps we should find a heal..." Bellatrix started to say, but then, it finally all clicked into place. It struck her like a bolt of lightning from the sky. Everything. The murder, Pettigrew, the ledger, Hermione's behaviour, everything. It all made sense now, and Bellatrix's mood darkened considerably as a result.

How? How could she have been so blind? It was right in front of her. And so obvious too. The pale skin, the coughing, the shivers, the shaking hands, the blood-shot eyes.

"You're an addict," Bellatrix hissed harshly, taking the young witch by surprise. "Those are withdrawal symptoms!"

"What? No, I..."

"DO YOU TAKE ME FOR A SIMPLETON?! DO YOU?!" Bellatrix shrieked at the top of her lungs as her anger ever mounted. "I saw your name in Pettigrew's ledgers. You were a regular customer. He was your supplier, wasn't he?! WASN'T HE?!"

When Hermione didn't answer quick enough, Bellatrix knelt down in front of her and roughly grabbed her by the jaw, forcing her to look into her eyes. "It was you who broke the seal on Pettigrew's quarters, wasn't it? You're a desperate junkie looking for her fix! ANSWER ME!"

Her secret revealed, Hermione's reaction was to burst into tears. "Y-yes. Yes, that was me."

Bellatrix let out a snarl and roughly shoved the young witch back onto the sofa. All the good and happy feelings she had experienced the past two days came crushing down like a house of cards. "Was this your plan all along?" Bellatrix spoke softly, but maliciously while pacing through her living room. "To get close to me? Warm my heart to you? Make me fall for you, even? Was it all just to try to manipulate me to throw off my investigation? To sway me? It was all a lie, wasn't it? WASN'T IT?!"

"N-no," Hermione stammered through her tears.

"LIAR!" Bellatrix shouted back. "You've been trying to derail my investigation from the very start! The first words out of your mouth when I met you were lies!"

And it stung. By all magic in the world, the betrayal stung more than Bellatrix wanted to admit to herself. How could she have been so blind? She felt involuntary tears sting in her eyes, yearning for escape. The dark witch didn't want... couldn't let... the mudblood to see her like this, so she turned away to face the wall. She'd been such a fool, such a sap. A sucker for a pretty face. Why hadn't she seen it coming?

But in her heart, she already knew the answer.

She hadn't seen it because she hadn't wanted to see it. For the same reason why she had gallivanted about with a suspect in spite of her better judgment. Andromeda had been right all along: Bellatrix was lonely. It had been so long since she had genuinely enjoyed someone's company like she had Hermione's.

"Congratulations," Bellatrix spoke with a bitter edge on a trembling voice. "I always pride myself for seeing all the details, all the angles… But you completely pulled the wool over my eyes. Well done. Well played," she hissed.

The dark witch let out a gutteral shriek as she lurched forward, grabbed the bottle of wine. With tremendous force, it flew through the living room to smash to pieces against the wall, spreading shards of glass and rivulets of wine all over the wall. Hermione was still shivering on the sofa, apparently too afraid to speak a single word.

"You played me," she spoke, her voice broken. "You played me like a cheap violin! I... opened up to you. I trusted..."

The proud dark witch wasn't able to stop her body from shivering. Pain. Anger. Sadness. Rage. They all mixed together in a rather unpleasant concoction of bile. "MUDBLOOD FILTH!" she cried out.

It was an insult intended to hurt Hermione to the core. And it worked. The tension in the room was palpable as the silence fell. There were no sounds in the room other than Hermione's choked sobs and and Bellatrix's ragged breaths. The mudblood had been cut to the bone by the insult.

Good.

GOOD!

In the end, Bellatrix blamed herself. All her life she'd been used and tossed aside so why would this be any different? This filthy little mudblood had played her and had done so expertly. And to think that Bellatrix had even hoped that maybe Hermione could be someone… someone she could feel close to. What a fool she had been! What a complete and utter idiot she had been!

Remarkable calm came with this realization. Oh, she was still very much angered, but there was an odd comfort which came with it. The dark witch turned around and brushed past the sobbing little mublood sitting on her sofa. She strolled over to the window and leaned her arms on the windowsill. "Get out of my house, mudblood," she spoke with a decisive coldness. "I can't stand the sight of you."

"N-no," the mudblood replied. "Bellatrix, please! I..."

"Leave!" said Bellatrix without turning to look at the disgusting mudblood. "And never return. Any further conversations between us will take place at the precinct in the interrogation room. Don't try to leave town or I swear I will personally track you down and drag you back by your ear."

And now Hermione would leave. They always left her, after all.

Good riddance.

Good riddance, to bad mudblood rubbish.

So why did Bellatrix felt like she was about to cry?

"Are you still here?!" Bellatrix hissed, not even bothering to turn around. "GO! LEAVE!"

She heard the rustling of the leather of her sofa as the mudblood slid over it. Footsteps on the wood of her floor. Bellatrix couldn't take it anymore; tears she had been fighting to keep from spilling started to flow. The moment she'd hear the door open and shut, she'd be alone again.

Instead, she felt two arms wrap around her waist. "Bellatrix," she heard the mudblood whisper to her. "Please, don't send me away. Not after what happened between us... Please believe me. I... I need help."

Bellatrix's first instinct was to violently shove Hermione away from her, grab her by the hair and drag her out the door. But there was something about the sound of her voice that made her reconsider. In her line of work, she had heard it all. Lies, pleading, threats, begging; silver-tongued criminals who were guilty as sin and tried to feed her bullshit in desperate attempts to keep themselves out of prison. She had seen through all of them. If there's one thing she had learned, it was how to recognize a liar. But what she had heard wasn't the voice of a liar, or someone who was trying to weasel her way out prison. Those weren't crocodile tears.

No, this was honest, sincere and kind Hermione. With a liberal dash of terrified.

Perhaps she hadn't been right about accusing Hermione of playing. Perhaps... perhaps the line of work she was in, and her life to this date, had made her cynical and dour. Hm, not perhaps. It had. It most definitely had. Hermione was right: she'd come to expect the worst from people in any given situation.

Bellatrix closed her eyes, forced herself to calm down and turned around. She saw Hermione looking up at her, red eyes and tear streaked cheeks. Before she could even think, the dark witch had taken the young woman in a firm embrace. Though still crying, Hermione calmed somewhat.

"What happened between us," Hermione said. "I... didn't expect it to happen, but I'm happy that it did."

"I... shouldn't have... called you... It's not the sort thing one says to someone one... cares about," said Bellatrix, as gently as she could while she tried to will the remaining anger away. "I wanted to hurt you."

"You succeeded," Hermione replied softly, further increasing Bellatrix's regret. The pain was etched on her tear-streaked face; the girl was utterly heart-broken over Bellatrix's ugly words. It was then and there that the dark witch finally realized what tremendous impact the term she had been so callously throwing about could have on a person.

"It is true, though, isn't it? You are an addict."

"I wanted to tell you, I really did, but..." Hermione closed her eyes. Bellatrix started to understand. 'Hi, I'm Hermione Granger and I'm addicted to illegal substances. Wanna hang?', wasn't really something that could be woven into a civil conversation.

"So tell me now," Bellatrix said.

Hermione sat down on the sofa, still shaking. "It started about two years ago," said Hermione. "There were so many classes to choose from, so many options. I didn't want to choose, I wanted to do them all. I wanted to excel at everything. I wanted to show those Purity Front rotters that a 'mudblood' could outdo them all! But no matter how hard I worked and studied... there just weren't enough hours in the day," Hermione looked Bellatrix in the eye. "I experimented with a time-turner in my third year so I could do more classes in a single day, but that didn't eliminate the fundamental problem. I wasted too much time on sleep. Time I could use for studying."

Bellatrix had a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Don't tell me you..."

"I started taking insoma-potions," Hermione was afraid to look Bellatrix in the eye.

It was what the dark witch had feared. insoma-potions were strictly regulated magical narcotics, some of the most highly addictive potions in the world. They completely eliminated any need for sleep and would energize a wizard totally. But there was a high price to pay for this. Its only legal use was in case of medical emergencies where it was essential that a patient would have to stay awake at all cost.

"It was the perfect solution to my problem; to be able to follow all the classes, do all the studying and still be able to enjoy the company of my friends. The potion worked wonderfully. I felt completely energized. The first month I didn't sleep at all. I had so much extra time to study. It wasn't like when I used the time-turner, because I had a full twenty-four hours to do everything," said Hermione. "And I excelled at all my classes. All my teachers were amazed. I just had to hide the fact that I didn't sleep anymore, but that was easy enough."

"Insoma is an insidious addiction," said Bellatrix. "You need more and more of the stuff to achieve the same effect as time progresses."

Hermione sighed. "I thought I could handle it."

"You wouldn't be the first to think that," Bellatrix replied.

Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head. "I had it all figured out. I made a chart, you see?"

"A... a chart?" Bellatrix blinked for a moment. "Are you kidding me?"

"Of course I knew how dangerously addictive insoma-potions are, but I did my research and made hundreds of calculations. In the end, I figured out the best dosage I could take daily to minimize the addictive qualities while maximizing efficient use. Once my NEWTS approaching their end, I were to simply cut down by taking a bit less of the potion every day over the course of four months until I would no longer need it," Hermione said. "I had it planned out to the finite details. I'd literally take the last drop of the potion the day I would graduate. It was supposed to be a... a 'controlled addiction'."

Bellatrix nodded. She had noted that the young witch could be quite... direct... when it came to her academic achievements; Draco had called her an insufferable know-it-all, and that had been an accurate assessment on his part. Insoma had claimed so many wizards and witches before her, and Hermione had been arrogant enough to think she could do better than all of them by just keeping to a proper dosage.

"Didn't quite work out like that, did it pet?"

Bellatrix hadn't meant to sound as condescending or as coarse as she did; Hermione was feeling awful enough as it was, but the dark witch had seen the effects of insoma poisoning first-hand when she had still been a constable on patrol on Knockturn Alley. Kicking the addiction wasn't nearly as easy as Hermione was making it out to be.

Hermione certainly caught the hint. "I underestimated how much... how much I would crave it. I didn't notice much at all when I was regularly using the potion..."

"But you did when you tried to cut down," Bellatrix finished. "When your NEWTS were ending?"

"I... It had gotten so far that I couldn't feel like myself anymore without taking the potion. I just needed more and more. I knew I was in terrible trouble. At first I tried to counteract the potion's effects by drinking sleeping draughts, but that just made me horribly ill. I tried to cut down, but... I wasn't strong enough. I just couldn't stop... Eventually I just decided to make the best of it and make use of a bad situation to do even more schoolwork. I stuck my head in the sand."

"How much are you taking now?"

Hermione remained silent and refused to meet Bellatrix's eyes.

"Pet," Bellatrix pressed. "How much?"

"Almost half a bottle a day. I haven't slept at all for two years."

Bellatrix closed her eyes and groaned. "Bloody hell... Tell me something, did you confess your addiction to Potter and Weasley?"

"Only recently. I... told them I was trying to quit," Hermione spoke, obviously ashamed of having lied to her friends.

Bellatrix rubbed her temples for a moment. "Because Pettigrew was blackmailing you."

Hermione looked at her in surprise. "How did you..."

"His ledger," said Bellatrix. "Pettigrew recently raised his prices across the board to pay off a gambling debt. The students were his primary source of income. He threatened to expose your addiction unless you'd pay triple for the insoma, didn't he?"

Hermione nodded ever so slightly.

"It makes sense," Bellatrix nodded. "You are the top student of Hogwarts with a vested interest to keep your addiction a secret and you are connected to the Potters, a rich wizarding family. How did you pay for the potions? Two years of insoma addiction is rather costly."

The young witch kept her eyes downcast. "My parents send me money from home ever so often, meant for books and sweets. I borrowed a lot from Harry. Mister Pettigrew also sold me potions in trade."

Bellatrix frowned. "In... trade?"

It took Hermione a few moments to realize just what Bellatrix was implying, before she gasped and shook her head vigorously. "Oh, no. No. NO! Nothing like that. I used to brew potions for him; some polyjuice, some contraceptives. Things he could sell to other students. I also had a still set up in one of the secret passages so I could ferment alcohol for him. He absolutely loved my homebrew."

"But now that he's dead and your supply has run out..."

"Ever since mister Pettigrew died, I... I was forced to ration. I've tried making more myself many times before, but it's next to impossible to get all the ingredients easily. And it's not as if I could ask professor Snape for help. There's just no way to get more. And now I only have half a potion left. I... I don't know what I'm going to do, Bellatrix. Oh god, what I have done to myself?!"

The dark witch gently took Hermione's hand and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "There's always a choice, pet," she whispered, remembering Dumbledore's words and how much comfort it had given her at the time. "But you have to be willing to live with the consequences."

A small sob escaped from Hermione's lips. Her voice was strained as she looked Bellatrix in the eye. "I want... I need... to make a confession."

"That's why you came to speak to me yesterday. Didn't you?" Bellatrix closed her eyes.

Hermione could only nod.

'Typical; I've finally found someone special after all these years and now I'm going to have to arrest her for murder', Bellatrix thought bitterly. 'Fuck my life'.

"Don't say anything else, pet. Come with me," said Bellatrix as she stood up and pulled Hermione off the couch.

"What are you doing to do?"

"My job," Bellatrix allowed a brief encouraging smile to cross her features. Her keen mind had been working with the speed of light, looking at the evidence, the case, from all possible angles. All she had heard. All she had seen. Every piece of the puzzle had fallen neatly into place to form a perfect picture.

"I just worked out how Peter Pettigrew ended up dead."