A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! I will begin writing reviewer responses after I post this chapter :) Just know I appreciate all of them and I am so glad you are enjoying this. I am super excited about this chapter, so I will just get to it without too much rambling. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
Please let me know what you thought of chapter ten and be on the lookout for chapter eleven soon!
Winter quickly faded into spring and Hermione was left feeling restless and useless. After they had successfully collected the first two horcruxes, she and Theo had discussed the remaining three, knowing that they were going to be difficult to obtain. They figured that getting the ring that had belonged to Salazar Slytherin would be the easiest to retrieve, given that no one was actively watching it. The Diary that had belonged to a teenaged Tom Riddle would be the next easiest, having been in Lucius Malfoy's possession somewhere in Malfoy Manor.
Theo was confident that they would be invited there more and more now that some of his evenings were spent with Lucius and some of the other men he'd met at the New Years party, smoking cigars and talking about various bullshit topics. Hermione always secretly enjoyed those evenings, when Theo would come back a little drunk and slip in bed beside her. He'd hold her with her back pressed against his chest and fuck her a bit harder than he would normally, his face pressed into her shoulder while his hands ran all over her body. It always left her well satisfied, but Hermione knew that he was always a bit embarrassed come morning.
He assumed that they would have time to begin exploring Malfoy Manor as they'd been promised an invitation to Lucius and Narcissa's wedding coming up in the summer, to be held at the impressive manor. There would be so many guests that Theo was certain they would have time to slip away and do a bit of searching for the horcrux.
Obtaining Hufflepuff's Cup, which was nestled away in the Lestrange vault for safekeeping by Bellatrix Lestrang would be the most difficult to get. Whenever Hermione would get too antsy, Theo would remind her that they still had years to plan for that extraction. He promised that the way she'd obtained it originally had been brilliant, if poorly executed. Surely with a bit of foresight, they might be able to try something similar.
The difficulties of getting the horcruxes left the young couple with far more free time than Hermione was used to, especially having no job to entertain her mind during the day. Although it seemed nearly blasphemous to say, there was only so much time that Hermione could spend reading. Having tea with Walburga was quickly becoming stale and boring, especially with Sirius and Regulus away at school, and she didn't think that she could spend another second twiddling her fingers.
Theo fared somewhat better, having been better equipped with hobbies that could keep him busy for hours at a time. Hermione was somewhat surprised to learn of her husband's talent at oil painting. He was a bit embarrassed the first time that she'd stumbled upon him, but he was blushingly proud when she complimented his work. It seemed unfair that he should be quiet as talented as he was. He encouraged her to find something to do herself - perhaps she could write under a pseudonym, he suggested - but Hermione was itching with the need to keep pushing forward in the task that they were sent back to do.
Determined to locate where the Gaunt family property, Hermione threw herself into finding everything she could about the way that familial manors worked in the UK, even going so far as to ask Walburga one afternoon. Sirius's mother, whose portrait had been so fond of calling her mudblood, looked surprised at her question, but answered that they were tightly regulated by the Ministry. Orion had stopped her the next time she visited, eyebrows furrowed while he tried to figure out her reasoning for asking. She'd had to think on her feet and explained it away as wondering what happened when a cadet branch of an old family came back, such as she and Theo had. She hoped that it assuaged the other man's fears, but she feared it would only make Alfred Nott hate them more than he already seemed to.
In the end, though, it seemed that all property records of this kind were tightly managed by the MInistry, hidden under lock and key. Because so much of a family's power and magic could be tied into these ancestral lands, it was incredibly important to keep the information as private as possible to prevent warring between the families. Hermione wished she had known about that long ago, and she wondered if the Weasleys had been aware of it, or even Sirius. It seemed like it could have been significantly useful in their war.
She had found out that it would be next to impossible to get into the Ministries archives to investigate the Gaunt family, and even less likely that she should be able to achieve it without detection. She did not simply need a visitors pass to comb through the documents to her heart's content. Instead, it would be tricky, and she was almost certain that she would need to gain employment at the Offices of Magical Property Rights.
Not as herself of course.
So that was how Hermione found herself sitting alone at the window of a teahouse in Diagon Alley, watching for the Director of that Department, as she'd done every day for the past two weeks, a book left forgotten at her table while her eyes scanned the crowds of witches and wizards. The lunch rush would be beginning soon.
She was so absorbed in her task that she barely even noticed someone walk up to her table, until a horrifyingly familiar voice broke the random hum of the teacup against saucer, spoon against porcelain. "You're Hermione Nott, aren't you?" the woman asked, looking down at her from her higher vantage point.
Hermione turned and was unsurprised to see the much younger, much more beautiful Bellatrix Lestrange standing before her. Her thick black hair was loose, but in elegant waves, unlike the tangled mass she'd worn after Hogwarts. She still had all her teeth and, while they were not perfect, they didn't resemble the tangled, yellow mess that haunted Hermione's dreams. Hermione could still distinctly remember the way that Bellatrix had held her down while Bellatrix had tortured her in Malfoy Manor...the way that her throat headache from screaming...the taste of bile in her mouth.
Cursing herself for getting so lost in thought that she'd allowed a witch as dangerous as Bellatrix Lestrange to sneak up behind her - she could practically hear Mad-Eye Moody shouting constant vigilance ringing in her ears - Hermione plastered a fake smile on her face, not going out of her way to be over eager with the other witch. "Yes, I'm Hermione," she agreed, taking her time to look Bellatrix up and down. "But I'm afraid I am at a disadvantage. I don't know your name."
"Bellatrix Lestrange," she said with a smirk and a flourish, clearly knowing that her name should precede her. "I had the pleasure of meeting your husband in the gardens at the holiday party my Uncle threw."
"Oh," Hermione agreed, wondering if Bellatrix thought that she should be bothered to know that Theo had spoken with another witch. It wasn't as if she had some sort of claim over him (well, aside from a false marriage), but she trusted him. And in any case, surely it would have been little more than a passing word or two. "I also had the...pleasure of meeting your husband at the party as well."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Bellatrix said with a smirk. "He's always been the most flirtatious brute and he's never quite learned to keep his hands to himself, but he's the man my father picked for me, so what more can I ask for."
Hermione felt a tiny laugh bubble up in her throat, glad to have the other witch break some of the tension. It was good to know that at least they could share one opinion on how rude they both found Rodolphus to be. Hermione still couldn't believe how brazenly he'd acted towards her at the party, in front of his father-in-law. "I am not sure if I should be comforted or not to learn that his attitude for me was not unique," she answered finally, surprised by how much she was able to relax around the other witch.
"Surely, you should be comforted. You can't even imagine the terrible lines he might have tried had you been alone," Bellatrix quipped with a mean smirk.
Biting her lip, Hermione hoped that she was about to make the right choice. "I find myself wondering how I did not meet you at the party. If I am honest, I find your company exceedingly more tolerable than your husband's," she confessed, knowing that it was the truth. "Would you care to join me? I was just about to order a second pot of tea," she asked, gesturing towards the open chair.
Bellatrix cocked her head to the side for a moment, taking her time to study Hermione's face, before pulling out the chair next to her and sliding into it. Once she was comfortably seated, Hermione called for the woman who worked at the counter, demanding a fresh pot of tea, being sure to be as snotty as possible with a thin veneer of politeness on top. The other witch seemed to be impressed with the way that she'd handled the help.
Once they each had a steaming cup in front of them, Bellatrix spoke again. "I am also sorry that we didn't cross paths at the party," Bellatrix revealed finally. "I was far too preoccupied looking for a particular guest, but to my disappointment he did not show up. Your husband found me when I was in such a snit. I am sure that he finds me just as rude as my husband."
"I somehow doubt that Madame Lestrange," Hermione reassured the other woman, her mind turning over on itself when she realized that Bellatrix meant the Dark Lord. She couldn't just come out and ask about him, but she hoped that the dark-haired witch might eventually open up, with the right amount of care. "Theo found your husband's advances to be thoroughly irritating as well. But then again, he's always been rather jealous."
The other witch dropped one square of sugar into her tea and stirred with her spoon, apparently completely unbothered by the clanking of the metal against the edge of the cup. "And was your marriage a product of your father's choosing as well?" Bellatrix asked.
Hermione shook her head, unsure of the best way to answer. "No, Theo was one decision that I made completely on my own. But, I suppose it wouldn't be untrue to say that part of the reason he appealed to me was the prospect of moving to London," she explained, not wanting the other woman to get the idea that she and Theo were a love match. While they may have grown fond of one another in the months they'd been in the past, she did not think that star-crossed lovers was a lie that they would be able to keep up. "Hong Kong has its charms, of course, but it's nothing like here."
"And your father just gave you what he wanted? You must tell me your secrets," Bellatrix murmured, taking a sip of tea to hide her smirk.
For once, Hermione let herself remember the very real feelings that she still had for her parents, even though they were now separated by time and magic. "Yes, daddy always found me rather headstrong. He couldn't say no to me," she explained, her eyes going into a far off place. "He never seemed to know what to do with me, so he just spoiled me."
"Ugh, that's my younger sister, Narcissa," Bellatrix said, rolling her eyes, but not hiding the genuine affection that she obviously felt for her sister. "Cissy has always had father wrapped around her little finger. I'm the pushy daughter that he finds himself having to deal with."
Unsure of what to say, Hermione found her fingers tracing against the cursed scar that Bellatrix had given her on the floor at Malfoy Manor, just above the crease in her elbow. Even now, when they were just chatting about inane things, Hermione could not forget how dangerous Bellatrix truly was, and she thought that Cygnus Black must be a fool if he dared tried to control his daughter.
"What's that?" Bellatrix asked, her eyes drawn to the raised pink scar that would never quite heal, her dark eyes sparkling in a sinister sort of curiosity. "Are you injured?"
Hermione tugged down at the hem of her robes, covering it up. "Oh, that," she dismissed, hoping to assuage Bellatrix's interest in the subject all together. "It's just a little souvenir from my boarding school days. Just a bit of hazing between girls."
Bellatrix nodded in understanding as though she knew exactly what Hermione meant. The Gryffindor suddenly found herself wondering just what the Slytherin girls did to one another down in the dungeons.
Before they could talk much more of it, Hermione caught sight of chartreuse colored robes and knew that it was the Ministry official that she'd been waiting for all along, one arm wrapped around his secretary and resting far too close to her arse to be proper. "The manners of some people," she said with a sniff, drawing Bellatrix's attention to it.
The other witch sat up a little bit straighter, taking note of the couple strolling down the street. "Would you believe that he actually holds quite a position at the Ministry?" she asked, full of gossip. "And that little tart is his mudblood mistress?"
Hermione gasped, putting on quite the front, acting as though it was the worst thing that she'd ever heard in his life. "I can't believe that he'd even think about appearing with her in public, let alone draped over her as he is," she said disapprovingly. "But I suppose that mudbloods do have a certain sort of wantonness, don't they?" she asked. The slur felt foregin on her lips, but she knew that she could show no hesitancy, not under Bellatrix's keen eye.
"Mudbloods will be the downfall of our society," Bellatrix agreed, her eyes still watching the couple with interest, clearly making note of just where they were going.
"You would think that he would have more care of what his wife would think," Hermione said primly. "At the very least, I would expect his employer - the Ministry - would expect better out of their employees, especially during work hours."
"Agreed. But it's even worse than that," Bellatrix said with a frown, her focus returning to Hermione once the couple disappeared from their eyesight. "She works at the Ministry as well, as her personal secretary. Perhaps someone should do something about it?"
"I should hope so. A strong complaint should make it known just how such shameful conduct reflects on them," Hermione agreed. She could feel her heart hammer away against her chest with elation as she figured she might have killed two birds with one stone - making a good impression on Bellatrix Lestrange and creating a job opening at the Ministry that she could fulfill.
Bellatrix set down her teacup with a clank, now wearing a full smile that only made her seem more beautiful - and dangerous. "You know, I was worried that with how much my Aunt Walburga likes you, you would be a vapid, boring witch," she explained, not at all embarrassed at what she was revealing. "But I think that I quite like you, Hermione Nott. You will be seeing me again," she promised, before standing from the table.
Hermione was left alone with her thoughts, wondering just what had happened in that total whirlwind of an interaction. She couldn't deny the rush of satisfaction that came with her belief that she had done well, chasing away some of the blues she'd been feeling whilst twiddling her thumbs, waiting to do something at her townhouse. Rising from the table as well, she grabbed her book under her arm and fished an extra knut out of her purse to pay for her rude treatment of the girl behind the corner, before returning home to Theo.
When she found him in the parlor, he was standing in front of the stretched canvas just has she had left him, staring with his head slightly turned, paintbrush held loosely in his hand. Coming up behind him, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and looked at what he was working on. It seemed that it was a portrait, the shading of a nose obvious, while some lines and clever shading were beneath it, beginning to form lips. The gentle curve of cupid's bow was perfectly done, but from the way that he lingered on it, Theo appeared less than happy.
"How did your reconnaissance go today?" he asked her, only slightly teasing in his tone, knowing that she was doing the right thing.
"Hard to know...but definite progress," she reported to him, feeling a silly grin cross her face again. "I think that the office that manages magical property might have an opening soon."
"That is promising," Theo mused, dropping his paintbrush into a glass so that he could give her his full attention.
"I also ran into Bellatrix Lestrange while I was out," she told her husband, watching his face for any hint of his true emotion. "She shared tea with me. I think that she might want to be my friend - she mentioned that I was not nearly as boring as she had come to expect."
"Please don't tell me that you are flattered by a compliment from Bellatrix Lestrange," Theo pressed, sounding a bit disappointed with her. Did he not realize that she had a strong desire for approval?
"No, no, of course not," Hermione said, brushing off his concerns as well as she could. "But...I don't really think that it would be a bad thing for me to be her friend would it? It could be our key to getting the Cup." And that was the tantalizing truth of the matter, wasn't it? If only Hermione could keep her head and remember that they weren't really friends, not at the end of the day.