Disclaimer: I have temporarily rented-oh. Never mind, just got a call from my lawyer. Didn't happen. Never happened. Damn schizophrenia! As it stands, please enjoy my fiction based on the world of Harry Potter and understand I don't own the rights to it. Never have and never will most likely either.

Chapter 10: Thorns On Olive Branches?

Things finally calmed down to Harry for a week. Hermione was off organizing and inviting, Bellatrix was (somehow) seeming to be a little kinder and bearable, the Twins had gotten another prank on Umbridge after she was turned into a rainbow. Bellatrix denied it, but it was obvious by the smirk. Likewise, Quidditch practice had been going well.

And then he got a note from the Headmaster, stating a time to be at his office with Bellatrix and Hermione. While anxious, he wasn't nearly as much as before-it was almost welcoming to know what was going on. Or maybe the appropriate phrasing would be that at least portions were filled in by a combined Bellatrix/Hermione think-tank.

In response to it all, Bellatrix began to move to asserting her claim over the Lestrange fortune. "I am going to keep my money. Screw myself in this dimension, but oh well, there's only room for one Bellatrix in the end, right?" she had muttered in response to his questioning look as she drafted a letter for the claim. Hermione had theorized about some of what he'd be learning.

"Well, it's obviously going to be something more powerful than almost all of us get taught in DADA. Even without Umbridge," Hermione had said in a near-mystified manner. Bellatrix's condescending laugh was obvious, but obviously mostly just focused on Hermione's voice.

"The old goat's probably just going to do bonkers shit again and just show us memories. Screw proper training, we're gonna watch the inaugural lesson of the Dark Lord's tea cozy class to see if he can indeed do a proper cross-stitch!" Bellatrix snarked, the quill continuing to scratch away as she polished off yet another inch of parchment. Harry's questioning glance was barely noticed by Bellatrix. "Goblins are terribly specific in closing off every loophole.

"As such, requests to completely alter from one vault to another requires copious notes about what going where, how to status them, how to pay the fees involved, what charms involved, how strong the charms are to be, and to see if there's anything to leave them by. Oh, and I told them to spell out 'The Blacks return'," Bellatrix finished her explanation, letting a sigh escape as she rubbed her forehead.

"Why would you ask them to put that?"

"Because, boy wonder. Well, more appropriate answer is shits and giggles. I'm also sending in a note that if Bellatrix and Rudolphus Lestrange get to their fault to have a goblin record it as a Pensieve memory. I can laugh at myself if I so choose, so don't look at me in that tone. Rudy's would just be a plus," Bellatrix snapped with a slight grin. Harry shook his head slightly.

"I...alright. I should've known to just not ask," Harry said slowly, before Bellatrix jabbed her finger with her quill. She pressed her thumb against it for a moment, before putting the tip against the blood and scrawling her signature.

"And...done. I hated Vault 12 anyways. The Ancestral Black vault will finally have quite a nice amount of gold and items in it once more," Bellatrix murmured, before putting the parchment into a very large envelope before she looked to Harry, "Oh? And do get your owl."

Harry rolled his eyes, but didn't have to as Hedwig came of her own volition. She landed next to Bellatrix, looking a little annoyed momentarily before giving a soft hoot. Bellatrix gave an approving nod as she tied the letter to Hedwig, before patting the owl on her back to send her off. With a hoot of indignation Hedwig took off, as Harry looked amused at the reaction.

"You know, Marcia, I'd almost say Hedwig might dislike you," Harry commented, a happy smirk present. Bellatrix stuck her tongue out at him.

"Ooh, maturity's apparently not for Marcia, no," Hermione muttered darkly as she flipped a page in her book. Bellatrix scowled at her.

"I'm in school, Ravendor. I don't want any sanctimonious bullshit about manners if I don't have to present them. When I announce myself a Black -and I will- then I will worry about manners and societal poise. No sense in not having an opportunity to do more freeing activities," Bellatrix shot back, causing Harry to groan.

"You two managed a week! A week! And now you're back to each other's throats. I swear, if I didn't know about Hermione having a bit of a crush on Neville in third year then I'd wonder if you two were about to go at it," Harry groaned out, before glancing between the two of them. Hermione's eyes shot to Bellatrix, who was looking at her already. Harry bolted.

He barely made it to the staircase as a pair of Stinging Hexes chased after him-though Harry was sure the one that just barely grazed by his family jewels was definitely from Bellatrix, but the one that Hermione sent hit him in between his shoulders.

It wasn't until he got into the Common Room that he noticed Bellatrix had shot two-the Stinging Hex to cover the one that seemed almost Dark. He swore it was Dark at least, due to the crushing feeling he felt on his balls. He didn't sleep well.

Harry walked down to the Common room grumpy the next day, but at least happy about Bellatrix's hex wearing off after the night. Her slightly maniacal grin that morning told him that she didn't forget about it, and would be happy to administer a round two or more. Hermione was a bit colder as well.

"Never again-I got it," Harry muttered as he walked by. Without any warning, Bellatrix latched back onto his arm.

"Good boy! And no, that hex was not 'Dark'. Though if it were up to the Wizengamont's male members, it would be classified as such," Bellatrix remarked, causing Harry to shake his head.

"How would you even know I thought-"

"Rudolphus. Because it was an arranged marriage I'd set it up so whenever he thinks of sex that he'd feel the phantom pain of that hex. I detested that man, though at the time his faith in the Dark Lord was mildly redeeming in my book," Bellatrix explained, before cocking her head slightly to the right.

"Well as interesting as that is...I'll move to a better topic. I've figured out somewhat what we'll do. We'll have Professor Flitwick sponsor it if possible, to provide a more balanced and helpful face than the Headmaster. Provided we can arrange it, first Hogsmeade weekend is soon, so I'd figure we would head on out to the Hog's Head and get it-"

"Ravendor, no," Bellatrix interrupted smoothly, Hermione's face contorting into annoyance.

"Why is that?"

"Because the Hog's Head has a...reputation, is the best word. They handle what the Three Broomsticks might not-and it's certainly not the cream of the crop. Unless the cream's bad that year, I suppose," Bellatrix meandered off in her mind for a moment. Hermione's face turned from annoyance to contemplation.

"I...that might be a fair point."

"It should be, Ravendor. Besides, Three Broomsticks has private rooms and in my time they were used by students at least a few times. No problems there," Bellatrix finished her counter with a smile, one that to Harry reeked of condescension.

"Fine!" Hermione shot back, obviously unhappy and a bit embarrassed. Bellatrix looked up at Harry, whose eyebrows went up at her. Bellatrix rolled her eyes before putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Look, for your age and your naivete you're pretty dang good. I would've only known not to go to the Hog's Head because of stories my father had and that I confirmed. He also gave a warning that the unsavory love the place. He may have partially told me that to keep my virginity intact for a contract, but all the same...no one goes there that doesn't have at least some form of checkered history," Bellatrix finished, her face looking like she had something bitter in her mouth.

"Well...that was backhanded, but thanks," Hermione commented, before Harry gave a whistle.

"That was...surprisingly civilized," Harry said. Bellatrix's eyebrows rose as she looked up just a tiny bit at him.

"We can manage it, can't we Ravendor? We just need a united front. Stinging Hexes? Or worse?" Bellatrix asked off-handedly, still staring at Harry, who gulped. Hermione's face rapidly changed to a slight, evil smirk.

"Maybe later. Too many witnesses for the moment," Hermione teased back, which made Harry shake his head.

"You two will be the murder of me."

"Aw! Look Ravendor, he woves us!"

"He'd better."

Dumbledore gently floated his Pensieve back over to where he was, letting it slowly drift onto the table with a couple of vials. With a backwards glance, an older-looking dueling manual moved over as well and set itself on the other side, along with a few spell books.

Dumbledore kept beginning his preparations, taking time to read through notes he had handwritten himself half-heartedly.

It wasn't that he thought it wouldn't be useful-on the contrary, he felt Harry had much he could learn. But at the same time, the drastic shifts that could come about astounded him still. It made him more nervous as he began his branching off from his original plans or speeding them up. And yet...he was content.

The thing that made him most nervous was Harry's new...well, Dumbledore supposed 'friend' was a bad term to apply, but at least 'companion' would work. Admittedly, having a Bellatrix walking around his school and not going crazy was something rather oddly normal. She'd been at least restrained in her schooling, though some of the pranks were vicious. He'd had half a feeling that after her 7th year got around and the Marauders heard of her, they began their own.

But there was no point in worrying. What he had to do would be react, which made him feel badly for his students. He'd cast a few extra wards to the school the night after finding out who she was, thankfully none of them were tripped so far.

A knock roused him from his reverie, and a quick 'Enter!' let him know the three had wandered in. Dumbledore relaxed into his chair a little bit as he conjured three for them, setting the wand down onto the desk. He kept quiet for a second, looking at each in turn before delicately grabbing his wand and conjuring lines into the air.

Harry recognized that they were far smoother than Voldemort's, almost like neon as Dumbledore wrote out 'I AM LORD VOLDEMORT'. He sighed softly, crossing it with his wand. "Harry, you remember when those were written out in your Second Year. I'd assume you told Miss Granger by now, and possibly Miss Black?" Dumbledore asked, as the words reformed into the familiar name. Harry shook his head.

"It...didn't really come up," Harry admitted softly, leaving Dumbledore to nod.

"Very well. Then all three of you will be learning at least something. Voldemort's birth name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, born to a Merope Gaunt and a Tom Riddle. His father, a Muggle, never wanted him. His mother, a Pureblood witch, died giving birth to him," Dumbledore explained as the name faded. Bellatrix was spluttering.

"You-'re-you're lying you old goat!" Bellatrix barely managed out, her fists clenched. Dumbledore's eyebrow lifted, before slightly pushing the Pensieve towards her.

"If you don't, then this is my Pensieve. In it is the memory of Bob Ogden, who visited the Gaunts in their household. This is a slightly older memory, when I was attempting to figure out exactly who Lord Voldemort was after his fall," Dumbledore explained, waving his hand over the Pensieve. "In it is an interview as well-one from an interview with an orphanage matron and a meeting with the young Tom Riddle," Dumbledore continued, before gesturing slightly with his hand.

The Pensieve slid to in front of Bellatrix, who glowered at Dumbledore. Harry poked her, causing her to nearly reach for her wand before he nodded at the Pensieve. She growled, before moving into the Pensieve as the other three followed. Two curious, one infuriated.

After they came back, Hermione's mind was obviously working in overdrive. Harry was thinking, and Bellatrix fuming. Dumbledore waited, before Hermione's first question popped up.

"Well, I didn't get the details in Parseltongue, but it looked like an accusation while the Tom Senior was around. Knowing what happened later and Tom's obvious opinion, I'd assume a love potion?" Hermione asked, as she stood and began to pace. Harry nodded his approval, looking at Dumbledore, who chuckled.

"Astute. Yes, I believe it was one. Due to abuse, her magical powers were poor...but potions is one of the few things many can accomplish irregardless of magical level. While magical power is important, it's not as effective as a correct potion. She likely spent months perfecting her brewing, which would line up well with events," Dumbledore explained, before Bellatrix gave a howl.

"THAT FUCKER LIED TO ME!" Bellatrix screamed out, her magic beginning to swirl. She stood, her eyes flashing a dark, menacing violet. "THAT MO-" Bellatrix continued mouthing words as Dumbledore's Silencing spell took effect, before another shielded the room from her tumultuous magic. After a moment, her magic broke the Silencing spell-but it was then Harry took her hand. Bellatrix barely registered it, her eyes still flashing as she looked down at Harry.

"Getting angry about it won't help now-save your anger for him," Harry told her. Bellatrix froze. She felt her anger stop-smoothing out. Yes. She could wait. And when I see you, you're going to wish you hadn't taught me so well.

"Of course," Bellatrix muttered darkly, her magic finally calming and leading back into herself. Hermione stopped.

"This is great and all sir, but what does that memory have to do with anything?" Hermione asked, stopping her pacing and moving back to her seat. Dumbledore's frown became obvious.

"As unfortunate as it is, Bellatrix is not the first Death Eater to think of Horcruxes to save herself. Voldemort thought of them as well-Tom is terrified of death. But where Bellatrix made only one, I believe young Tom began making many Horcruxes. Possibly as many as six, with a seventh being an unlikely Harry here," Dumbledore explained, before giving a sad smile to Harry.

"And this is very fortunate as it is, because of this your chances of surviving skyrocket. My plan was to hope you would sacrifice yourself-and the ritual Voldemort used would anchor you here to life, finish him, and die happy, old and loved," Dumbledore finished. He clasped his hands together, setting them on his desk. "So that's where the more intensive lessons come in. I need your help to find his remaining Horcruxes, and further from that Harry needs to train," Dumbledore said, pushing forward the dueling manual.

Harry picked it up, and started flicking through pages. His eyes widened. "Some of this...how would I be able to do this, sir?" he asked, flicking through more pages. Dumbledore chuckled.

"Because I will teach you, and Bellatrix will as well. I trust you are able to show how many Death Eaters fight still, Miss Black?" Dumbledore asked pointedly. Bellatrix scoffed.

"Like Death Eaters had real training. Their 'Pureblood instincts' were the only thing they needed. That mostly meant just launching Killing Curse after Cruciatius after Dark hex," Bellatrix said darkly. "The only reason they won practice duels was when they went many on one. I'm surprised many of those narcissists could hold a wand straight. Then again I'm narcissistic, but I had dueling training."

Dumbledore shook his head slightly, before sighing. He looked back to Harry, "As it stands, it is imperative you can defend yourself. You'll never reach Voldemort's level-but there are things that can make it a level playing field. We just need to ensure your ability to reach him. Likewise, Miss Granger, I would like it if you joined in," Dumbledore commented, his eyes flicking to Hermione. Hermione glanced at Harry, before looking at Dumbledore.

"Someone has to keep them working. May as well be me. I got Harry through the Tournament alive, I'm not going to let him die on me after all the prat had me help him with," Hermione said, half-sarcastic. Bellatrix frowned before sticking her tongue out at her. Dumbledore gave a slight nod.

"Then good. I'd recommend you start working on dodging. Make it a reflex-not a thought. You're not going to be quick enough at Transfigurations or conjurations to handle it, but a spell is just as easily dodged as it is blocked. It requires more physical effort, but you'll manage, I'm sure. Any other questions?" Dumbledore asked, glancing between the three of them. Bellatrix's faux sweet look made him frown.

"When we catch the Dark Lord, can I feed him his own intestines?" she asked, somehow innocently. Harry's mouth fell open as he tried in vain to comprehend the sentence. A glare from Dumbledore was the only answer she needed, herself frowning in response. "Fine...I got it. No Dark hexes involving autocannibalism, got it..."

"You're dismissed for now. I'll send a note for the next lesson, hopefully in a week. That manual is yours to keep, but keep it safe," Dumbledore warned, his eyes peering over his spectacles. Harry gave a quick nod.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Dumbledore turned around and threw Floo powder into his fireplace. Kingsley answered.

"Yes, Kingsley, I would like to know if you'd not mind the rain check on...what was your terming? Getting 'smashed'? I just had to deal with one of the most infuriating people I know," Dumbledore requested, obviously unsurprised by the look Kingsley gave him. Instead of just continuing to be shocked, Kingsley started laughing in his deep, booming way.

"Of course, Dumbledore. Firewhiskey or mead?"

"Both."

Hermione frowned at Bellatrix's obvious agitation. Something was up with her, and Hermione just knew it would likely be something bad. She seemed nervous too, if she didn't know any better Hermione would guess she was suffering some form of withdrawal or something.

But...she glanced over at Harry. He seemed to be reading, but she knew he was just trying to distract himself. He must've read the same page a dozen times by now, and kept getting sidetracked. With a sigh, he snapped the book shut and offered a barely audible goodnight. Hermione gave a full-volume one as Bellatrix seemed to snap out of her reverie.

Bellatrix's first movement, getting off the couch, made Hermione want to follow her. Something seemed off, but then she seemed to reassert herself, looking over at Hermione. "Y'know Ravendor, you probably should've been in Hufflepuff with all the work and loyalty," Bellatrix commented, her voice sounding odd.

Hermione's eyebrow lifted, as she gave a single nod. Bellatrix frowned, her leg half-bouncing off the floor at a fast pace, so Hermione filled in the gap, "Gryffindor makes heroes, Hufflepuff makes true friends, Ravenclaw makes scholars, Slytherin schemers. So...your point is?" Hermione explained, her gaze settling firmly on Bellatrix, who squirmed slightly in response.

"I wish I could blast my voice box out, but I am so-how does the word go again?" Bellatrix muttered, trying to wrap her head around the convention. "Ah, fuck it, you're better than I'd anticipated," Bellatrix complimented. Hermione's mouth opened as her head tilted.

"Did-did you just compliment me?"

"I did. Doesn't happen often, treasure it," Bellatrix muttered dryly, looking a little cross at having said it. Hermione felt like grunting, before rubbing her forehead.

"You know what? I agree. For all your exceptionally numerous faults, you're at least intelligent and at least seem powerful from what I've seen. There's been some complex bits of magic you've done so far. That doesn't explain the nervousness, though. Don't try to deny it, it's there," Hermione returned, making Bellatrix smirk. Bellatrix's gaze returned Hermione's, the smirk not leaving. She casually flicked her wand, a silencing spell to remove what they were talking about.

"Back-handed compliment, but I'll take it Ravendor. Just all this shit going along with the Dark Lord's been...eye-opening. Torture, murder is corrupting. I won't be the first to admit that. What he did is on another order of business. Where the former slowly changes a person, the latter...it twists. The one failed version that I did should've made me more insensate, more warped, more obsessed. They bring out the worst and multiply. He might have even made enough of them to torture his own followers.

"I can't imagine how much he must hate death-must fear it. I know he didn't really love us, but his power, charisma, favor was intoxicating. To know he was mostly just using us to safeguard against his death is unappetizing at best and revolting at worst," Bellatrix said, before turning her head back at Hermione.

"Then why did you attempt to make one?" Hermione asked, to which Bellatrix frowned again.

"It was the only way I could think of out of Azkaban. I was insane when I went in, yes, but the Dementors do something else to you. Sometimes all it feels you can do is wallow in sadness and grief. Miserable. So I decided to change it. It would get me and boy wonder out, and then we could go our separate ways in peace. Him to the goat, me to my whims.

"If I had succeeded, then I would've only slipped a bit further along the slope. I wouldn't be quite as witty, but I still would be just as powerful and a little more depraved," Bellatrix answered, before looking back at Hermione. Hermione shook her head with a sigh.

"I wouldn't be too sure of doing that, myself," Hermione muttered. Bellatrix laughed.

"You? You're a golden girl, Ravendor. You'd never be in there in the first place. Some good people get locked up-but unless Doofius Malfoy gets Minister it won't happen. But...for being a Muggleborn, I have to admit you're powerful and that you have a stubborn streak that might even out-rival my own," Bellatrix complimented again, leading Hermione to a laugh.

"Keep complimenting me and I'll think you turned over a leaf," Hermione teased, to which Bellatrix stuck her tongue out at her.

"Old Wizard codes of honor. When you've found someone that matches you in strength, you delight in the fight and either honor their loss or victory. In this case, I suppose I could handle you as a bit more than an acquaintance. You should be honored-first friend besides Harry that's actually been one in over two decades," Bellatrix said, ignoring the barb. Hermione gave a nod.

"Well, I'll accept. So long as you stop the ceaseless arguing," Hermione countered. Bellatrix's eyebrows shot up.

"Did not expect that. Though you'd probably be far more resistant," Bellatrix admitted, shrugging. Hermione smirked.

"Someone has to make sure the two behind Harry's united. So what if the original olive branch still has a few thorns? I can allow a few from an ego, if it makes my life far easier."

Bellatrix snorted and decided on a one word response, "Brat."

"Aw. You really love me."

"Hey! That's my line!" Bellatrix called out, half-glaring at Hermione before beginning to laugh. Hermione fell apart, laughing as well. Bellatrix shook her head as she finished, smiling. Hermione was almost in disbelief as she smiled back automatically.

"Well. I suppose that means we're on good terms then, huh?" Hermione asked, genuinely curious. Bellatrix's smile changed to her usual smirk.

"Boy wonder's going to have a stroke if he hears that. But expect me to still tease you. That's probably set in my blood," Bellatrix noted, stretching. Hermione shrugged.

"Whatever its effectiveness, same to you. But I prefer at least knowing it'll be a joke to anything else," Hermione replied, causing Bellatrix to chuckle.

"Aw. Ravendor wanted to know my feelings. She cares! But I didn't expect to actually make nice. Expected some more resistance for one, and that I'd be too annoyed to finish what I said," Bellatrix admitted plainly, shrugging slightly. Hermione shrugged.

"Well, unfortunately for you, you underestimated me. How much I've longed to say that, you've no idea. Insane how much and how quickly I wanted that, actually," Hermione admitted, causing Bellatrix to chuckle. She stood up, stretching a little bit again.

"Alright. I'm tired, early stuff to do. Night Ravendor. Don't do anything I would," Bellatrix ordered, her tone half-joking. Hermione nodded.

"No breathing, understood."

"Brat."

"Hey, you said don't do something you would!"

"Fine, fine. Gonna return the sentiment? I don't hand those out like candy."

"Oh. Good night, I suppose."

"Works well enough for me. Later Ravendor, don't let the magic mites bite. Hmm. Wonder if those actually exist."

Hermione watched her leave, before settling back into her book. Well, it seemed to be what she was doing. Instead, she was going over the whole list of people in her head. Unfortunate as it was, she couldn't think of where to bring people. She could ask Bellatrix or Dumbledore or Harry, but Harry had told Ron and herself about everything he knew. That was instantly out.

Flitwick had told her that her original idea, the duelling platforms, would likely be insufficient in a decent teaching environment. Unused classrooms were tossed on the idea of them possibly needing privacy, and that a ward would instantly tip off that something was happening. While it wasn't illegal, in fact it was far from so, they knew that the instant Umbridge knew it she would stomp on it.

Or at least, something like that. To help that, the book in her hands held some secret-based spells that would activate. It made her grin, to say the least. Some of them were insidious, almost Bellatrix-worthy. At least pranking Bellatrix, in any case. She'd probably be better off setting things up for when they did indeed want to have a lesson-it would make things far easier.

With a slight sigh, she let her plans rest. There wasn't much she could do at the moment.

Luna Lovegood woke up. She loved and hated mornings. Loved the bright sun, the tweeting of the Humdingers, her favorite sock on her left-wait. Oh, well, her right foot worked. But she hated that there wasn't really a 'breakfast pudding' ever served by the elves.

She'd manage until the evening, she supposed. Something knocked around in the back of her head, making her frown, before she looked over at her calendar. Some would have a difficult time reading it, since it used up to seventeen different runic combinations for something as simple as spelling a number out. But at least every month it shifted automatically, each day was a different bright color, and important dates shone a clear and calming white.

Except for today. Today, she gave a small and sad smile about it turning a darker color. She'd used it exactly twice before, for life-altering events. The first was her mother's death, the second her arrival at Hogwarts. Ever since, it was counting down to a less significant event with the white day. Meeting Harry, Bellatrix and Hermione was one of the top ones still.

Her smile stuck as she cleaned and got ready for the day. While she no longer believed in luck, she wore her favorite and most lucky fluffy socks. She dispelled the heckling spells on her shoes, unwove the jinx on her least favorite pair of robes, and added her crochet set after shrinking it.

So what if it kind of played on the woman's very slightly growing sense of good? At least until she became less Dark, she needed as many morality chains as possible.

Thankfully enough her day was mostly routine from there forward. Breakfast without plimpy soup was disheartening though. She glanced at one of the butterbeer corks on her necklace afterwards, and frowned at it. She was hoping it wouldn't last that long before Bellatrix came, this part of the second floor was a bit of a ways away. Time for my part.

Luna turned, noticing a disgruntled Ravenclaw. Some seventh year-she never paid attention to if his-or-her name ever came up here or anywhere else. Truth be told, she didn't even know if the seventh-year was a he or a she. The snarling mouth opened as so many times before in her dreams, "Well well. Look what we have here, a Looney. You know, your father's been writing things. Terrible things. Things my Lord would want to stay hidden. Believing that filth's exclamations is a way to get things hurt. Permanently," the voice drawled, circling her. Luna closed her eyes.

Yes, some things didn't change, as the voice continued, "And we have such a way to do it, to send an appropriate...message to stay off my Lord's case and stop being a pain trying to show his return," the voice finished its monologue, ending from behind her, as she knew would happen. She turned, her eyes still shut, but the seventh-year easily caught her in a Petrificus. The voice chuckled, before Luna felt Cutting curse hit her back, shredding a fair portion of her robes and leaving more than a few cuts on it. She would've tensed if she could, but knew it would be pointless.

Searing heat hit her back, slicing down it before being whipped around sideways. The voice gave a huff, before moving back to Luna's front. At least, what Luna could hear of the footsteps. She felt a heat grow close to her cheek, burning it, "I bet that feels painful, doesn't it? Imagine if my Lord was doing it instead-he's so well-versed in this sort of magic..." the voice said, dripping with enthusiasm. The heat left her cheek, but it continued to throb in time with her back.

She had just a few seconds before the whip came back-this time it felt like blades were embedded into the magic, tearing and burning into her side. Luna whimpered, before feeling like smiling.

"What the-" the voice called, before the sound of a body hitting the wall with a crunch resounded. Luna felt the spell end, wobbling with her eyes opening to see who saved her. A fifteen year-old, seemingly carbon copy of Bellatrix Black had a snarl on her face before Luna was Petrified and levitated. Thankfully, Luna could move her head with this one.

"Fucking idiot," Bellatrix mumbled, before her expression softened, "I'll get you to the Hospital Wing," Bellatrix said, Luna's bag joining her.

"Thank you, Bella," Luna muttered, causing Bellatrix to jump.

"Shit!" Bellatrix yelled, causing Luna to give a weak chuckle.

"It's fine. Safe with me," Luna responded weakly, Bellatrix narrowing her eyes. Bellatrix just shook her head. She began running, Luna in tow, to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey jumped as she saw the burns and hurriedly began moving to assist Luna as Bellatrix stayed back. Luna gave Bellatrix a smile before her eyes closed and she embraced the lack of pain.

Bellatrix Black was a raging turmoil inside as she saw Luna pass out. She growled, before hitting her head on the door. She felt drawn to the spot for no reason, and when she got there she was disgusted. The seventh-year was torturing its own Housemate, and more than that one so much younger and one that hadn't even tried to fight back.

Something seemed to tug on her as well when she saw it. She just saw the inherent wrong in it. She couldn't help but launch spells. Couldn't help but save the poor girl. She looked over, and frowned once more. She frowned, before turning to leave.

Instead of leaving, she found Dumbledore in front of her, who seemed upset. "What happened, Ms. Reynolds?"

"She was getting tortured by a seventh year. I Banished him into the wall, and brought her down here," Bellatrix answered hotly, glaring up at him. Dumbledore sighed.

"I must prepare an expulsion letter, and hand the culprit over to the DMLE. Thank you for saving her," Dumbledore said, looking over at the bed Luna was in. Bellatrix growled.

"That's it?! That's all you're going to do?!" Bellatrix yelled at him, her eyes alight. Dumbledore frowned.

"It's all I can do. I can't kill him, and neither will you. I can't incarcerate him here at Hogwarts, but the DMLE can. You can't either. I can't brainwash him, not if I wanted to stay true to the Light. You could-but I wouldn't let you," Dumbledore finished simply, before pointedly glaring back at Bellatrix. "Some times we wish we were unencumbered by these thoughts, these extremes. But I would rather stick to my honor than lose myself. I nearly did, once."

Bellatrix growled again, before shaking her head. She walked away, still angry.

Okay, so, another chapter down. Somehow, Bellatrix's turning is actually going faster than I originally thought it would. But no, it will still be several thousands more words before then.

I'm not sure if I properly explained Luna Lovegood, but in this story she's not really 'odd' due to everything, but because she simply knows. She remembers that time in that dimension she met a Snorkack, or a Humdinger, or a Heliopath. It's familial. In this, she even knows a vast majority of things that will happen. Maybe not exactly, but she dreams about them. If you've had deja vu, you know what it's like in some ways, it's just she gets to recall it perfectly. Something that seems impossibly similar to a situation is a good way to explain it.

Me? I've had it a few times, hell, it's steered me through a conversation on what not to say sometimes.

She just remembers about every single detail possible, though. Much better than deja vu, where you remember waking with it and the situation occurring. And yes, Bellatrix will actually come to love her like a little sister. Always felt the two of them would get along, if Bellatrix ever wasn't insane from bloodlust or from wanting to torture and murder.

Kinda wish we knew more about Bellatrix than her evils, but oh well. Wishful thinking!

Bumping story up to M, with this chapter. Just for safety's sake.