I'm deeply sorry for the late update. It's completely my fault... and Final Fantasy's. But mostly mine. This is also mostly a filler chapter with a few important aspects, but on the positive side, I have already looked through the next chapter so you won't have to wait long for the next. I will also be doing retroactive beta work for this one once again, so that you won't have to wait any longer :]
The whole Death Eater/Nazi thing is pretty interesting, because I doubt the pure-bloods have much knowledge about what happens in the outside Muggle world. It's a very curious topic... almost makes me want to explore it in another fic. But that's material for another time!

OpheliaBlack: I'm a bit two-sided on the whole Ron bashing. On the one hand, I'm all for it. On the other, I actually like Ron, because he's goofy. And the actor who plays him is like a puppy you don't want to kick. So I'm always pulled between two standpoints! It's maddening, really.

LivinBeyondTheHorizon: Heya! Sie werden sich noch eine Weile im Kreis drehen, fürchte ich. Oder eher, das typische ein Schritt vorwärts, drei zurück... aber sie werden sich annähern, langsam aber sicher ;)

vienne la nuit: And thank you as well! That was a very interesting review to read and I'm glad my writing delivers enjoyment. That's what I'm here for ;) And the politics will only become more important from now on.

koredaze: Yes, if she would have stayed, it would have been a) unbelievable masochism on her side and b) the whole matter would have gone in a circle. So it was time for a change :)

Abba/lottie dee: Well, then Rowling and I have one thing in common: We sure do like our history! :D

Greyella: It's ALL about heat between those two, of whatever kind you can think of ;) Oh my, I made a drug user out of you! Shame on me *grin*

Lifeicovett: Thank you! :) And we will find out more about Bella's past, because I took so much pain and research to fill the gaps Canon left us with. In time!

imperfectionisunderrated:Well, I have to work with what both the films and the books give me. And when I saw that cool-looking, hard-to-explain smoke apparition in the film, I knew I had to work with it somehow. And then I realized only the Death Eaters did the smoky apparition after Dumbledore's death and bam, idea. Let's keep you curious about their relationship a bit longer, shall we? :D

Mephista: Manchmal ist Bellatrix in ihrer Unberechenbarkeit fast ZU berechenbar. Es ist immer eine Gradwanderung wenn ich sie schreibe... aber ich hoffe der Leser ist genauso unsicher wie sie als nächstes reagiert wie Hermione selbst :)

Once again, thank you everyone. It is always very interesting and charming to read your comments and thoughts, no matter what it's about. All that helps a writer grow! :)


8. Time's a-changing

"The greatest minds are capable of the greatest vices as well as of the greatest virtues." - Rene Descartes


"Shacklebolt managed to clear the way for a trial concerning the future condition of Bellatrix Lestrange," McGonagall explained once the young woman had gotten over her shock and she and Hermione were seated at the kitchen table. "I believe he will also raise the matter of Ixion's Tears at that date. We will leave at this instant to prepare everything before the meeting at the Ministry of Magic at the end of the month."

"At the end of September? Really? It will still take this long?"

"The Ministry is shorthanded. Many former officials have either resigned, converted to the dark side or... are dead." The older woman folded her hands on the table, mustering her student over the rim of her glasses. "There are trials almost every day. And those not busy making sure the culprits in the war are cleared of charges or locked away are hunting down the masses of Voldemort's supporters. And then there is the problem of dealing with the connections to the other Ministries, getting the revolting magical creatures under control, dealing with the losses... the list goes on. With Madame Lestrange being contained and currently no threat, she is one of their lesser concerns, especially because everyone already foresees how the trial will go."

"Not well, I suppose," Hermione assumed meekly, watching her teacher nod.

"So it is of utmost importance to move back home quickly and try to find out what we have to expect. We need to plan ahead and see if we can't turn the trial around." The Headmistress glanced at Hermione's bag and her clothes, noting how she was dressed to go out. "I see at least one of you two is ready to go."

"I... was... just getting ready for a quick trip to Stornoway. Buying groceries and all that," Hermione lied feebly, averting her eyes for a moment.

"I see," McGonagall commented, but the meaningful rise of her eyebrows told the young woman that she wasn't fooling anyone. "I will go notice our captive then that we are ready to move out."

The Gryffindor wondered how she could have missed the sound of the car reaching the cottage, but suspected that the constant noise of the rushing air outside drowned out anything else. Then again she had been busy motivating herself to go the last step, so maybe the sound of the motor hadn't been able to reach her busy mind.

It was hard to tell if Bellatrix was elated or dreadful about the prospect of returning back home, as she tended to simply stalk out of the house in her usual haughty way, the boots clicking hard on the wooden floor and sending little pinpricks of chagrin along Hermione's nerves. The young woman on the other hand felt a heavy weight lifted from her back and for the first time since a long while there was a warm, bubbling feeling of happiness coursing through her stomach. There was no point in hiding the relaxed smile that graced her features. Home was mere hours away.

They shared the backseat, leaving McGonagall and Terry to happily chat away. Despite all the time they had spent together inside the four walls, it felt incredible strange to sit next to the Death Eater so calmly and in such close proximity. It was similar to ants running up and down the skin facing the dark witch and Hermione had to keep herself from rubbing her arm or scratching her flesh constantly.

Before they drove to the pier, where Terry's brother-in-law had graciously offered to take them back home so they wouldn't have to present the criminal to the Muggle world on the ferry, they made a short stop at the older man's hostel.

Shelly was incredible sad to hear of Hermione's leaving and hugged the young woman close for a long time. Promising honestly to call them and visit in the future, as they had been wonderful friends and supporting people that she would dearly miss, the group left with a small bag of home-made cookies. Feeling her throat close up at this display of affection from the married pair, Hermione excused herself soon and waited with the brooding pure-blood inside the car until it was time to go.

This time they crossed the waters during daytime and the young witch had a chance to catch up on how everyone was doing. McGonagall ensured her that everyone she knew was well, but worried for her whereabouts.

Hermione suspected they wouldn't be happy if they heard what she had done these last months.

There was still a lot left unsaid, but the professor did not want to talk about the more touchy subjects, claiming there was still time for that later. The young witch relented with her questions, suspecting that the Headmistress refused to talk more about it in close vicinity to someone not knowing about the Muggle world, which Nate was without doubt. Now that she thought about it, the brunette realized that everything they had done and said so far didn't allude to the Wizarding World either, so she kept her mouth shut for the rest of the journey.

It was strange to see different surroundings than those on the Isle of Lewis, once they were at the pier. Amongst thanks and hugs, Hermione said goodbye to the two older men, getting her shoulder patted with a friendly smile by Terry. "Take care of yerself, lassie," he said and shook her hand.

When the trio had reached the train station, the young witch was ready to sit down and wait for their next transport, but McGonagall shook her head and motioned her nearer. "There is no need for secrecy anymore. Come closer, we will apparate."

And just like that they were back in Hogwarts. Hermione wondered if it was a bit too much if she would throw herself down on the ground to kiss the cold stone floor.

"So, why the sudden appearance?" Bellatrix drawled, crossing her arms lazily.

McGonagall proceeded to bring the Death Eater up to date and then pointed to a group of chairs in the corner of her office. Hermione sat down, eager to find out more, but the dark witch kept standing and strolled slowly through the whole room, keeping herself busy to the observer by playing with various trinkets. But the brunette knew Bellatrix was listening like a hawk.

"It seems the Daily Prophet's edition telling your story hit the masses like a bomb," McGonagall began by easing herself into a love seat. "We made sure the writer of the article would only tell the facts and not make up some fancy fantasy story, as well as making note of your extraordinary aid during the war, Miss Granger. Yet the next day the Ministry was flooded with complaints and cries of outrage."

"We guessed that would happen," Hermione noted sadly, trapping her hands between her knees. "It's clear they're not happy that a Death Eater, this special one in particular, gets a special treatment."

"I'm right here, you know," Bellatrix hissed, annoyed at being referred to in third person. They send each other dirty looks.

"You are spot on, Miss Granger," McGonagall quickly interrupted before the two witches could get into an argument. "The people want a scapegoat, and who better than Voldemort's first lieutenant?"

The dark witch looked ready to throw something at the Headmistress for her offhand use of the Dark Lord's name. It took her visible restrain not to do so.

"Does no one care what happens to me?" the young woman asked desperately.

"There are those too, of course," the professor calmed her down. "Right now there are two fractions: The ones crying for a direct delivery to Azkaban, claiming that one of the Golden Trio would gladly give her life for justice," here the young witch snorted and the dark one twitched slightly, "and those who want the Ministry to show mercy in the face of your sacrifices. They believe the time for killing should be over now that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is gone for good."

"I think it's clear which side we want to scream louder at the Ministry." The brunette cracked a small smile at her teacher.

"Fine. So we know what the useless people think. What about the Wizengamot, whom do they favor?" the Death Eater prodded, turning a curious golden clock with several different dials around in her fingers.

"Be careful with that, it's expens-..." Clink. McGonagall closed her eyes with a sigh. "Never mind then."

"Oops," Bellatrix said giddily, her face a mask of feigned innocence.

"The new members of the Wizengamot keep mostly silent about their opinions. I guess they are smart enough to wait for the actual trial and the presentation of evidence," the professor went on with a miserable glance to the broken golden gadget on the floor, "but a few are arguing openly. Shacklebolt is, as you can guess, on our side. Fudge on the other hand..."

"Fudge? The former Minister? He was reinstated?"

"Yes, Miss Granger, though of course not as Minister. He managed to snatch the job of Head of Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, where he worked when he was young." McGonagall didn't look very happy herself at this change. "He is quite... wordy about his belief what should happen to Madame Lestrange. I prefer not to recount his speech."

"Are there others we should know about?" Hermione wondered out loud. "I mean, can you guess which side their opinion might tilt to?"

"I fear it is looking quite bleak at the moment. Pius Thicknesse and Elphias Doge are known for being very opposed to Voldemort's followers, both tending to vote in favor of the harder sentences. Mafalda Hopkirk, who you should remember well, seems a more reasonable person, but I'm not sure about her. Others either don't stand out in their votings or have kept their opinions to themselves."

The young witch rubbed her temples, not very reassured by these news.

Bellatrix growled. "So, what now? I'm going to sit and wait patiently until the end of the month, knowing my fate is sealed?" The Death Eater sat down an unusual candle holder with enough force to shake the cupboard, turning towards them with discontent.

"Nothing is lost yet, Madame Lestrange," McGonagall corrected. "I will bring you to your sister once our talk is over. Narcissa Black is under surveillance for partaking in the dark side's actions, but will face a light sentence, as she has done no serious crime and because Mister Potter himself has spoken out in her and Draco's favour. She assured me in both written form and verbally of her complete assistance and will have an eye on you and your safety."

"What about her idiot husband?"

"Lucius Malfoy is held for questioning. He is not allowed to return to his home until his fate is decided, which might take a lot longer than your own trial."

Bellatrix relaxed her shoulders, thankful she wouldn't have to spend time with the arrogant, hypocritical man.

They talked a while longer, musing about who could help their problem and who would throw stones into their path. But seeing as the two witches had just returned from their exile on the isle, there was little knowledge they could contribute to the discussion. So McGonagall left with a restless Bellatrix in tow, the catty Death Eater not even offering a word of farewell to the woman she was bound to.

Hermione could hardly believe she was free of the mad woman for at least a whole month. It felt a bit like breathing freely for the first time. She remained in McGonagall's office until the Headmistress returned and brought her to the place she had longed to be at since they had started hiding around Britain.

When the young woman finally saw the Burrow again, she felt her heart beat faster. And when the door opened and the Weasleys streamed out, she burst into tears and ran to them as fast as her feet would carry her.

She was finally home.

Seated between Ron and Ginny one hour later, a big plate of Molly's home-cooked food in her hands, Hermione relayed her story between bites of dinner and gulps of butterbeer. Although she glossed over the more violent encounters, she could see in their faces the anger and frustration at her mistreatment, most off all Ron, who appeared ready to burst a vein. Molly wasn't far off from that either.

"I can't believe it! McGonagall shouldn't have been so irresponsible, sending you away to such a place with only this... this... madwoman as company!" the Weasley mother yelled in outrage once the recount had ended.

"It's not McGonagall's fault," Hermione quickly interjected and placed her empty dish on the table. "She simply gave me the option and I decided to agree to it. It was completely my responsibility to do or don't do it. In the end, the professor regretted even telling me about it at all, I think."

"Still, leaving you completely alone? I could have gone with you. Anyone would have, then we could have protected you from her," Ron added, his protective side coming through somewhat fiercely.

"I can take care of myself, Ron," Hermione calmed him down with a smile, but placed a hand on his arm in thanks. "And you were needed here. I heard how you and Harry helped a lot in finding more of Voldemort's supporters. Good job."

"Well, yeah," he muttered, a blush on his cheeks at the praise. "But I would have been happier by helping you."

"In the end it was a good idea, to be honest," the young witch went on, "keeping us safe on a magicless island. It was a great way to keep us both hidden without raising suspicion."

"Did she hurt you badly, Hermione?" Ginny asked concerned from her left side. It felt good to be cared about by the people you loved. "I think we have some Dittany in the house."

"She managed to score a good kick to my ribs, which still hurts in the morning or when I move too fast. A spell or two should do the trick."

"If she dares to touch you again, she will meet the pointy end of my stick. And this time, it won't be a polyjuiced Bellatrix Lestrange that suffers from it," Molly ranted with the anger of a natural mother bear. It touched Hermione that the Weasley matriarch would fight as much for her as she had done for her daughter in the battle at Hogwarts.

"Come on, I'll take a look at your ribs upstairs," the redheaded daughter offered. "Then we can go and have a big coming home party afterward. Harry will come over later, he'll be ecstatic to see you!"

"Oh, that reminds me... before you go, here." Molly presented her with a very familiar stick and Hermione let out a whoop of joy, happily clutching her wand to herself. "They found it on one of the captured Death Eaters. Beats me how he might have gotten it, but Ollivander has been identifying wands since weeks now."

"Thank you! I'm so, so glad it didn't vanish!" The young woman smiled brightly and hugged everyone again. It was sad to see George standing alone and without his twin, but he was smiling as much as the others in the room.

Hurrying upstairs and closing the door behind them, Hermione wasted little time to get rid of her long-sleeved top so Ginny would know where to aim her spells.

The girl gasped in shock when she got a good look at the brunette's skin. It was littered with bigger and smaller bruises, the freshest one coloring her wrists in blue and violet. Half-healed scratches marred her back and neck where Bellatrix had managed to dig her nails in too deep.

"Merlin, that woman is an animal! Tell me you got her good for that!"

"I wish I could," Hermione admitted with a sigh and sat down while Ginny began healing her up. "Just don't tell your mom about this. She'll march right into Malfoy Manor to hex Bellatrix into tomorrow."

The redhead chuckled slightly. "You might even be right about that." Then she grew somber again. Standing behind Hermione's back, the older Gryffindor couldn't see her best friend's face when she went on. "That's all she did... right? Hitting you?"

"What?" Hermione turned around, confused, then winced when she pulled her sore side. "What are you... that she would.. I mean, no, that's all. Really." She smiled at her friend. "I swear. The beating's weren't fun, but I can deal with that. I'm a grown up girl."

Relieved, Ginny mirrored the smile and went back to work.

To say Harry would be ecstatic on seeing her was an understatement. He equaled Ron's reaction by screaming in surprise and rushing over to hug her close, turning her around in the air several times. Hermione could hardly stop laughing, glad that Ginny had chosen to deal with her injuries beforehand.

Molly managed to present a feast that evening that was even for magical terms surprising and everyone had a wonderful time eating, laughing and catching up. Harry listened quietly to Hermione's retelling of the months she had been away, confirming that they had nearly been worried sick for her.

"McGonagall promised us everything was fine and that we would see you again soon, but then days turned into weeks and weeks into months. We were afraid she was just keeping the truth that something horrible had happened hidden, but then we thought 'this is McGonagall we're talking about!' and went back to worrying."

"She only wanted to keep me safe," Hermione said, expressing her trust in the Headmistress.

The young witch could see that Harry - who now lived at the Burrow - and Ginny were in a secure, happy relationship. They reminded her a bit of the Drummond's when they sat together like this. She would have to take her friends with her to Stornoway some day, showing them all the beautiful places and presenting the older, married couple to them.

When the moon was high in the sky and everyone formed small groups in which several different topics were discussed, Ron and Hermione used the chance to take a stroll through the garden. It was nice to have a moment alone for themselves, both silently reveling in their hand-holding and nearness.

"I still believe that someone should gave gone with you."

"Ron," the young woman began with a clear intent, waiting until his gaze caught hers to make sure he really was listening to her. "I wanted it to be only her and me. After our encounter at Malfoy Manor, I had to do this, to confront her alone, for myself. I needed to know I was stronger than that weak, crying mess she had created of me that day. And in a way, I got some kind of closure... despite the repeat performance."

"I was so close to storming into Hogwarts and confronting McGonagall, y'know," Ron finally said after they had watched the moonlight coloring the plant life white and blue. "And then there came the article in the Prophet. I was so worried you wouldn't come back..."

"Of course I would come back, you dullard," she chided gently, bumping his side with her own. "You knew things were difficult, with me having made the Vow and all... everything will be decided at the end of the month."

At her deep sigh, he loosened their hands and put an arm around her shoulders. She let herself be held close, simply letting herself be enveloped by his comforting warmth and smell, which was so much like the dusty, earthy Burrow itself. She let go of all the bad memories she had gathered during her time in the cottage.

Yes, it was good to be home.


It was at least the fifth time that Bellatrix had to roll her eyes at her sister's fussiness. It wasn't enough that Narcissa offered her a big room, a meal that was more of a feast and made sure that her well-being was looked after, no, she also had to constantly hang around her to make sure the raven haired woman had not suffered during her time on the isle.

"I told you, Cissy. The Mudblood didn't even put up a fight half the time. She was more nosy and annoying than a house elf, but I managed to get her to do what I wanted easily."

"And yet you're so quiet, Bella... that's so uncommon for you," the blonde observed with worry in her light eyes. "You've never been this quiet."

Bellatrix sighed with irritation, grabbing another pillow she could push behind her back. God, it was nice to be back in a proper housing, filled with luxury and space of all kind.

"I just spent three months stuck in a tiny house with that chatty, filthy know-it-all and I can't remember one night where that maddening wind stopped for even a minute. And, on top of that, in nary a month it will be decided by traitorous Ministry puppets if I live or not. And even if I get away with a light sentence, as long as they don't give me what I want from the Department of Mysteries, the Mudblood eats dirt and I probably will too! Can you blame me if I'd like a little peace and quiet?" the dark witch shouted at her sister, having grown louder with every sentence.

"No," Narcissa admitted softly, "I guess not. Forgive me, Bella, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, whatever," her raven haired sister waved off with sudden tiredness in her voice. It was time she cleared her mind of the impure girl. It had been fun to show the Mudblood her proper place by playing with her like a cat did with a mouse, but sometimes it had almost sounded as if the girl's words had made sense at times and that was entirely impossible and unacceptable. Not coming from one of the unforgivable beings who had destroyed her master's wonderful vision of the future. Shaking her head mentally, she glanced at her sibling out of the corner of her eye. "How's the youngster?"

"Draco?" The lady of the house pressed her lips together. "He's... trying to deal with all that happened. He hardly talks, but at least he started eating regularly again. I was out of my mind worrying for him.. "

Scoffing at this display of motherly affection, the dark witch shook her head. "It will make him stronger. You should stop trying to fix his every move and action."

"He's my son," the other woman hissed, showing a bit of her Black temperament. "As long as I'm alive and able to, I will take care of him!"

Yes, of course. Because you know what happens when a mother doesn't care, the Death Eater mused, letting her head fall back on the headrest. Oh, don't go there, Bella. "Do you know what will happen to your sorry excuse for a husband?"

"Bella," the blonde chided.

"Fine. What will happen to Lucius," she corrected. It sounded as if worms were pulled from her nose while saying this name.

"The worst? Azkaban. Other than that I have no idea."

"And I suppose you will see this as a terrible injustice," Bellatrix drawled, lolling her head on the back of the loveseat she was sitting on.

There was a moment of silence as Narcissa contemplated it. "To be brutally honest? No." That caused her dark haired sister to raise her head in surprise. "Not after he managed to get Draco so deeply into this mess. He could have stopped after the first time, but he just had to wind his way back to the Dark Lord's side. It was his own damn fault and I'm not standing behind his excuses for doing this again, not after he nearly sold his own son out," the blonde elaborated in cold anger.

"Cissy, you shock me," Bellatrix murmured with an amused smile on her face. "You even slipped a little cussing in there."

They shared a light chuckle, before the dark witch excused herself. Sometimes she couldn't help but feel her age, especially after a journey through half of Scotland and dealing with a concerned sister the whole day long. She couldn't wait to sink into soft, cool satin sheets after weeks of sleeping in that dirty shack.

But sleep eluded her once again. The Screams and memories were rising in her mind as usual and she knew the next night would be unbearable.

Throwing away her covers and strolling across the thick, fluffy carpet that caressed her bare feet, the dark witch found her way to the manor's library. Aimlessly she searched along the thick, old tomes, trying to find something worth reading. Yet nothing caught her eye and, after starting to get frustrated, she sat down at the working table to flip through a magical book with utter boredom. The literature around her had her... curiously restless.

It took her at least an hour to contemplate an idea before she made the decision and grabbed a fresh piece of parchment and an ink feather. A few minutes later she snapped her fingers two times and a house elf appeared, bowing so deeply that his long nose dragged along the floor.

"You called, Mistress?"

"Here, take this list," she commanded, throwing it before the elves feet. "I want you to get anything on there till tomorrow noon."

The tiny house elf glanced at the top of the parchment, his eyes round with confusion. "Dante Aligheri - Divine Comedy..." He skimmed across several other author's names and their works, all clearly of Muggle origin even to the uneducated mind. "B-but... Mistress... we don't have these books here."

"Which is why I want you to get them from outside, you idiot," the dark witch hissed, barring her teeth. The servant cowered, making himself even smaller. All elves knew the eldest Black to be very respectful and amiable to them, unless she was in one of her moods.

"From...uh... Diagon Alley, Mistress Lestrange?"

"From wherever you can get them - I don't care. Just make it quick... and make sure to keep quiet about who wants them," she added quickly. It would be good a good idea to learn about her blood enemies' way of thinking by indulging in a bit of literary education. Turning away from him, she waved her hand at the elf in dismissal. "Now leave me alone."

The elf bowed again deeply and vanished with a plop.

Her agitation soothed a little, Bellatrix managed to spent the night in quiet contemplation, watching the moon rise and fall through the ceiling high windows of the library.

Maybe it hadn't been the smartest act to get these books.

Well.

She'd let the Screams drown out any of her doubts and insecurities.


Waiting for the final day to come was awful, but Hermione relished the normalcy that had come back to her life.

Staying with the Weasley's proved to be a very distracting diversion, as there was always something going on. Either George had decided to invent a new form of trouble or she would play Quidditch (despite still disliking it) and other games with Ron, Ginny and Harry. Bill and Fleur often visited and the whole group would laugh and share stories. Luna showed up a lot too, as Ginny and her were good friends. It caused Hermione to actually like the time she spend with the airheaded blonde, because Luna's easy, uncomplicated way of seeing things was a nice change to the high maintenance crew that were the Weasleys.

The young woman didn't spend as much time alone with her new boyfriend as she had suspected she would. They were too good of best friends to sneak off for some lovey-dovey time and Hermione loved the easy exchange of affection that had now sprung up between them. Ron had turned into a very caring partner, sometimes overbearingly so, but the brunette was still a person who needed her me-time. But Ron understood and always stepped back a few inches when he realized he was crossing the line. And while he was yet unable to follow half of the conversations Ginny and Hermione had, he made an effort to actually use his brain for a change.

During one of McGonagall's visits, who tried to keep them up to date, Hermione hinted at one of her heart's desires and earned a round of surprised looks.

"Really? You want to go back there?" Ron asked wide-eyed.

"Other than you and Harry, I actually liked learning at Hogwarts. I know you two have more than enough formal invites to join the Ministry work, but I'd like to finish what I've started. And that includes my education."

"Miss Granger, I can only admire your interest in doing this and will fully stand behind your decision, if you want to go through with it," the Headmistress commented with a delighted smile on her face.

"Yeah, that's a stunner," the youngest Weasley son murmured to himself, earning himself an elbow to the side by his sister. "Ow! Man, women are mean..."

"You'd do well to follow this young woman's example, Mister Weasley," McGonagall lectured with a straight back. "Education is an important way to improve and hone your character. Not every country has the chance to relish this gift."

Ron had a retort lying on his tongue, but the second he opened his mouth, he caught the dirty looks the young women were giving him and he snapped it shut just as quickly. Harry chuckled, looking quite sympathetic.

Despite the filled time, things were moving at a snail pace and sometimes Hermione would find herself sitting at the window, biting her lip and wondering if she would get a chance to make her wish come true. As the days moved past, the longer her thoughtful periods became, causing Ginny to send her worried looks whenever they shared a room together.

But then came Hermione's birthday and all bad thoughts vanished like smoke into the air. Molly had organized a giant birthday party and invited all of the Golden Trio's friends and acquaintances over to celebrate this day. It was amusing that Hermione was the first of the three to actually turn eighteen, earning her a lot of friendly jokes about 'dating a younger man'.

Neville surprised them by showing up with a shy-looking Hannah Abbott in tow, not hiding the fact that he had entered into a relationship with her. While happy to see him, it confused Hermione, having thought him to be interested in Luna.

"We've become great friends," the herbologist answered with a shrug, "and we felt it was better like that. Especially because I realized I had stronger feelings for someone else." He smiled at his girlfriend, who blushed happily in return.

Fleur and Bill managed to make the party even more lively by opening up with wonderful news.

"We're going to be parents," the proud father proclaimed, hugging the beautiful half-veela close. Everyone whooped and raised their drinks, grateful for another reason for celebrating after the dark days of war.

Hermione didn't think about the trial even once during the evening.

The Black family, meanwhile, had less reason to celebrate.

Although Narcissa and Draco had really been cleared of all charges but what was a laughable compensation fee for someone as wealthy as the Malfoys, it was clear that Lucius was not getting off so easy. The claims made against him were getting worse every day and it seemed that Azkaban or a similar imprisonment were the likely outcome.

Bellatrix was useless when it came to conveying comfort, but she could at least offer her sister company while she cried as well as frequently refill Narcissa's wine glass. When her mind was restless and sleep wouldn't come, she hid in her room and browsed through the books the house elf had managed to bring her. It was like a guilty pleasure, her dirty, well-hidden secret.

But time would not rest, ticking away slowly but surely.

And then, three days before her trial, the officials finally came to bring Bellatrix in for questioning.


I have to admit, I have no idea about proper court procedure, so I went a bit out the window with it. I tried to find out as much as possible from the HP wiki, but it's not much, so I had to improvise. The next chapter will hopefully be beta read in advance :] Have a nice day/night everyone and see you soon!