The Pensieve rose out of the floor like a figure standing over her. All day she had been remembering, recalling. Reliving. Seeing for the first time - herself through Bellatrix's eyes. All day she had been surrounded and immersed in the presence of the woman. The witch. The sadist who she absolutely shouldn't have gotten involved with but, despite her better judgement, had anyway. She felt lonesome. Missing the presence she'd known so strongly before. As she sat on the cold floor in this corner of the Ministry she allowed her scheming eyes to fondle the vials, and the Pensieve. An idea touched her then of filling the Pensieve with all the vials of memories, with all of the pieces of Bellatrix she had left, and pushing the glowing fluid onto herself, in hopes of reconstituting and reviving the dark witch. Surely, Hermione thought then, that her memories and her body would be enough to bring her back?
She felt a hollow feeling open at her back. She felt it spread to her neck, where it consumed her solidity. She knew she couldn't stop here. She mustn't. Hermione knew how it all had to end, but in reliving those moments they were like new. Just as fresh as they had been in her own head, before she'd turned them to mud with endless recalling. If she did stop here, and deny the remaining vials their freedom… here she felt the world shake beneath her feet, as if daring her to try. The world, her world, would collapse, undoubtedly. It would collapse in on itself, with her at its centre. Bellatrix had taught her so much, and now that knowledge formed the great pillars which held her world up. No, she had to know the vials. To love them. She had to absorb them. Hermione longed for the presence of the dark witch. Gingerly she lifted a vial from the rack and let her gaze settle in the liquid within. What if she were to drink this? Drink deep in these memories, spilled from Bellatrix's cup? No. This would not do either. Hermione could not know the vials properly, were she to ingest them. But no doubt the sensation of the thing would be exceptional. Though, these vessels weren't inscribed with drink me, instead they were a catalogued sequence of events, meant for experience, not consumption.
Carefully she placed the tempting, shimmering vial back in its carved hole, and reached for another. Delicately, as if the slightest of knocks would shatter its glassy body, Hermione lifted the small lid. She felt the parchment label under her fingers rustle while she raised it to her nose. Slowly she breathed in. Holding the first breath within herself for as long as possible. Behind her eyes flashes of moments, of touches, presented themselves to her as Bellatrix's vapour fed her systems. Her stomach began to seize and her cheeks flushed. Hermione desperately tried to fight her body, wanting to hold her breath forever. Keeping Bellatrix safely within her. Her body failed her as black dots danced in her vision. While she exhaled a noise of pain escaped her. She was sorry to see it go. Again she breathed in deeply over the vial, inhaling the scents that bubbled off it. It smelled of ashes, and fire. Her heart began to pound in her chest, thundering beneath against her sternum, sending tremors through her body. Slowly, familiar scents stepped out to her. The smell of Bellatrix's skin, her hair, her clothes, even her sweat. It all came pouring out of this vial and invaded Hermione's body. If she closed her eyes, which she had done long ago, Bellatrix, the dark witch she shouldn't have loved, could be standing over her. Here with her. In this room.
Hermione opened her eyes and saw no one. Her eyes were met with the same sullen, dank room. Now in the grips of twilight it looked even less remarkable. Here, there were no colours. Only grey. Only black. And vials of shimmering blueness reminding her of everything she'd lost. Now she sank down against the wall. She gave the vial back its lid and held it tightly in her palm. Her head was spinning and the edges of her vision shimmered with colours. Hermione cradled her tumbling skull and resisted the urge to be ill. Perhaps it was best that she didn't drink the liquid, if breathing its scent had pushed her to the edge of consciousness, then drinking it may have pushed her to madness. No, only the Pensieve was her window to Bellatrix. The dark witch was far too intense for Hermione to experience on her own. Even the scents which had risen from the vial stuffed their way down her throat like a sheet of cotton.
When she emptied this vial into the Pensieve its waters glowed orange. The waters within churned and flecked Hermione's delicate features with warm light. It was a welcome colour in this sullen room. Bubbles began to form and pop, and with them came small clouds of smoke that reminded Hermione of wildfires. As she leans forward to immerse herself in the memory she gasps because the water is hot, almost scalding.
Bellatrix watched as great serpents of fire encased the Burrow. The awkward little shack was being squeezed by great trunks of flame and the sound of wailing wood under pressure filled the air. Little Weasels scampered out in all directions, their ginger heads turning and searching for the culprits. Harry stepped forward, of course. Playing the hero after he'd endangered his friends with ridiculous hiding. The other death eaters fled when the Golden Trio had emerged from the burning hovel. Bellatrix swooped down and appeared before the party. She looked each Weasel in the face before shooting them her signature grin and vanishing into the silken grass surrounding them. It was a disaster waiting to happen, really, all this long, dead grass and a 'house' made from kindling. The place was just begging to be set alight. Bellatrix had raised her wand and saw everyone react instinctively toward her. Though, no one was willing to cast before she did. No one wanted to provoke her. Lest there be some… unfortunate casualties. Before she vanished into the grass the ashen witch surrounded the house with a ring of fire. Two enormous serpents of flame slithered around the rag tag troupe, leaving charred trails. Molly and Arthur leapt to the defence of their home, trying to hold off the serpents, their glowing jaws opening wide. Wide enough to swallow the pair whole.
Bellatrix had run a distance from the burning structure. She crouched low, listening to the sounds of desperation coming to her over the tips of the grass. Everything was flecked with orange light, which flickered and seized with the wind.
"We've got to go after her!" She heard Potter say. Such a valiant hero, always willing to put his loved ones in danger. Here he would send them off into the night to look for a witch capable of unimaginable horrors. Sending all of his pawns out to protect the king. A poor move, Potter.
"Harry, I don't think that's a good idea… I mean, it's pitch black out there, who knows where she could be, or what she would do if we found her!" Here Bellatrix scoffed and cocked her brow, who did this girl think she was dealing with? Not exactly the smartest thing to, directly avoid the dark witch while she was still in earshot.
"Hermione, there's too many of us here for her to get away! We could use her for information!" Harry was raising his voice now. Temper, temper.
"Yeah, Hermione, we can't let her get away." Ah, the unmistakable slur of Ron Weasel.
"Lets spread out, if she's still here we can find her quicker."
Bellatrix heard the distant sound of footfall and a new rhythm in the grass as it whipped against running legs. The moonlight streamed down from the sky like rain. The tall stalks of dried grass were bleached a luminescent blue and they swayed with anticipation - her pursuers were getting close. She evaporated into ashen particles and rose high above the ground. Beneath her she saw the trio running through the grass. With the burning house at their centre the three paths extended like beautiful patterns into the darkness. She followed Hermione's delicate trail until the glow of the house couldn't reach her anymore. Until the sea of grey and luminous blue swallowed her whole, and most importantly, until Potter and Weasel were well and truly out of sight. It was time then to swoop in and show the Mudblood what she wished to avoid. Quickly she swung in low. Low enough to tangle with the tips of the sea. Low enough, and quick enough to tear Hermione's wand from her grip before she could even blink. She was holding the tool so loosely Bellatrix was surprised she hadn't dropped it on the way out here. The dark witch, as cloud, spiralled high above the girl, watching her turn frantically. Looking for the Death Eater who she knew was there, somewhere hidden in the night. Quietly Bellatrix allowed herself to reassemble. She was standing behind the girl when her particles came together. Hermione stood as if in a picture frame. Bidden by no one, and with no destination. Around her the swaying arms of grass reached out for each other. Reached for connections in the night. Hermione's hair was usually the colour of straw, and now the straw coloured girl too was dipped in moonlight. The stalks of grass twitched uncomfortably at the presence of the dark witch. As if they were trying to warn Hermione. If they could cry out, together, they might have alerted Harry and Ron too. Imagining the collective wails of burning grass made Bellatrix smile.
The dark witch allowed her jaw to open a little and she breathed in gently. Drawing into herself the scent that rose off the Mudblood. She could taste the tiny molecules of Hermione that had drifted to her.
Ahead she saw Granger's head jerk to the side, letting Bellatrix know she was no longer incognito.
"Little Mudbloods shouldn't go walking alone at night without a wand…" Came Bellatrix's velvety voice.
"Bellatrix, please…" Were Granger's only words before she was cut off.
"Bellatrix, please go, please give me my wand back, p-p-please don't hurt me! Which will it be tonight Granger, I've heard them all before, more times than you could imagine." Here her voice came as a harsh whisper, her serpents tongue lashing at the wide eyed girl.
"Please be quiet, I don't want the others to hear you."
Here, Bellatrix was a little shocked, she looked at the girl with wide eyes, unsure how to react. Us. Granger had said 'us'. She was unsure of the last time someone had put them in the same boat, as it were. Still, she couldn't allow herself to be affected, and brushed the 'us' off with ease. "Come now Granger, it was only a quick snog. No need to be so possessive."
Hermione's mouth opened and closed, trying to find the right words, but failing to do so before the dark witch could chime in again, and chime she did. "Enjoy she show did you?"
Not wanting to miss her change again, Hermione quickly responded, "You could have hurt someone! You could have killed me!" Were it not a monochromatic night Bellatrix would have surely seen the anger redden the girl's cheeks.
"I had it under control, don't get your knickers in a twist," the dark witch whispered playfully. "Did you see that fire? Not even Mr. and Mrs. Weasel combined could hold it off!"
"You shouldn't have done that, it wasn't right." Hermione was forgetting her place. She stamped her foot and balled her fists, anger was such an unflattering emotion for the Mudblood.
"Just who do you think you're speaking with, girl?" Here, Bellatrix took confident strides forward, her dark eyes locking with the girl's. She reached out with her clawed hand and took Granger by the front of her shirt. She spoke harshly now, as if spitting her words down the witch's throat. "Do you think the bloody Ministry locked me up for being nice? Do you think I rotted in that hell for all those years because I worried about whether I was doing 'the right thing'? No, Hermione, it wasn't the right thing to do," Here, Bellatrix released her hold on the girl's shirt, watching her step fearfully backward and adopted a familiar air of lunacy in her voice, "but wasn't it spectacular!"
Hermione smoothed the wrinkles from her shirt and stared agape at the dark witch. "You're unbelievable."
"Trust me, Muddy, I know."
The usually chatty and defiant Mudblood had no answer. This was surely a victory to be savoured. "Here." Bellatrix tossed Hermione's wand back to her. The girl quickly bent down and picked it up, immediately pointing it at the dark witch. Bellatrix turned from the witch and looked at the flames still surrounding the burrow in the distance. The familiar prickle of her skin caused her arm to react instinctively. A hot force smashed against her arm, before she deflected it with ease.
"Wordless Expelliarmus?! Really? And here I thought you'd come such a long way!"
Bellatrix bent her knees and leaned back. She raised her wand and opened her eyes wide at Hermione, who stood prepared. She threw herself forward, giving her magic enormous force. Once again two enormous flaming serpents erupted from Bellatrix's wand, their tongues lapped eagerly toward the girl, who was, at that moment, afraid for her life. Hermione held onto her wand tightly, with both hands, and watched as a thin tether of blue drew itself from the tip. The tether coiled itself around the twisting snakes, sending clouds of steam into the night air.
"They'll see the fire! Please!" Hermione was panting hard as her white knuckles gripped her wand.
Bellatrix laughed with glee as she watched Hermione struggle against her serpents. "Oh, alright." Hermione fell to her knees, her wand falling down beside her. Her shoulders rose and fell with a want of breath and Bellatrix stood and watched her. "At least you didn't retort with a bloody Stupefy.."
"Please, somebody will have seen us!" It was precious to witness such a deep conflict in the young girl.
"Fine." Bellatrix's mood swings were so rapid that it was hard to keep track of whether she was being playful, or was absolutely furious.
"Watch closely now, Muddy! I will speak, but you may not, remember." Slowly Bellatrix began casting, the gentle waves of her wand mimicking the gentle sways of the grass in crosses. It seemed paradoxical, for the tool to move so carefully and gently when it had driven so many to madness through pain. And then, in a warm voice, she uttered "Abscondere."
Hermione watched Bellatrix repeat this action until she had surrounded the pair entirely. The dark witch saw how Hermione watched. And she saw the girl mimic the actions she'd made with her wand. Yes, this girl did adore magic, and it seemed, in this moment, that she also adored those who used it well. "Cross your heart and hope to die, Muddy." The woman giggled quietly, and slowly walked over to the entranced Hermione. It was as if she'd taken another hit from the basilisk. "Concealment charms can save your life, if you're out numbered, or against a strong opponent. In your case I think the latter is more fitting, don't you?"
A rush of wind lifted itself off the grass, all was quiet except for the shifting of earth beneath her boots. The scent of night kissed at her skin, they were connected to the stars like this. No barrier between stars and earth. Silently the ashes of the Weasel residence fell from the sky like snow. The grey flecks fell onto Hermione's cheek and she brushed them away quickly, as if it could relieve her guilt. The moment was sombre, but Bellatrix still chirped brightly, "Look at you, ey? Consorting with the enemy!"
Hermione let her eyes slip into Bellatrix's. She looked deep into the dark witch, wanting desperately to say 'no' to her, to scream for Ron and Harry. To scream for stability. But instead, she took steps forward and put her hands on the woman's shoulders. But instead she whispered quietly, and almost not at all, "can you teach me?"
Bellatrix furrowed her brow at the girl, who had surrendered. Bellatrix had meant to be impervious and impenetrable, like stone, like the walls of Azkaban, but when she replied it seemed lightning had struck her too, she whispered quietly, and almost not at all, "of course."
"B-but not the Unforgivables." Hermione's eyes scanned frantically over the dark witch's clothes, not willing to face her. Bellatrix watched the shimmering orbs as they reflected both the moon and the flames. Even her eyes were in conflict.
"No?"
"No, thankyou." The girl's politeness surprised Bellatrix, it was as if she were completely defenceless in face of the woman now.
She was even more surprised then, as Hermione reached up slowly and allowed her fingers to rest on the dark witch's jaw. Carefully, in calculated movements, the girl shifted her fingers back and forth, feeling the bones beneath the tips of the digits.
"Hermione? Where are you? Any sign of Bellatrix?" Harry's voice swirled up to meet them as Hermione's body tensed. Though still she caressed the strong jaw of Bellatrix, who smiled as the girl ran her thumbs over the tattoo she'd been given in Azkaban. Again the girl looked deep into the dark witch's eyes, as if in searching for confirmation that they'd meet again, and when Bellatrix nodded, Hermione looked away from her.
"I-I'm here Harry, I haven't seen anything."
Her eyes flicked for a moment back to the dark witch, who's jaw she was cradling. Bellatrix smiled, nay, smirked at her broadly. Suddenly, caught off guard, Bellatrix found herself being kissed by a girl who had been sent into the ocean of grass to hunt her. It was a warm joining, against the darkness of the night, and against the war they fought with each other. But when they pulled apart still Bellatrix smirked while she looked into the dilated pupils of the girl.
"I've just.. I've, um. I-I've got to go."
The dark witch watched as the girl with straw coloured hair disappeared into the moonlit sea. She stepped back into the shadows, remaining unseen by all, and watched the enthusiastic sway of grass in wake of the girl. Beneath the horizon she saw three luminous orbs bounding their way toward the Weasel residence, but one Lumos was brighter than all the others.
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