A/N: Thank you DarkSnow3 for beta reading :3 and thank you for sticking with this story :)

— — —

Hermione had stumbled a bit when Bellatrix had apparated them to their next destination and she had instinctively grabbed the older woman's arm for support. After an odd sideways glance from the dark witch, Hermione had quickly let go and turned her attention to the faded red brick house in front of them.

They were on a street of houses which all looked the same, but Hermione couldn't determine where they were geographically.

"Where are we?" her eyes followed Bellatrix as she climbed the steps to the front door of the house.

"My supplier," Bellatrix said.

Hermione nodded, finally joining Bellatrix at the front door when she realised that was all she was going to get. Bellatrix knocked on the door as she did and within seconds a tall lanky man answered.

"Ah, Mrs Lestrange!" he held his arms out as if he was going for a hug, but Bellatrix just waltzed right by him into his house.

His eyes fell on Hermione and he glanced up and down appreciatively. "And you are?"

"I'm-" Hermione stopped herself, remembering what Bellatrix had told her about acting superior, before she finished, "no one you're worthy of an introduction to."

Ouch. Even though he didn't say it, it showed on the man's face that his pride had been hurt as Hermione followed Bella into the house. It was filthy, but Hermione didn't know what she had been expecting. One night in Bella's safehouse had upped her standards considerably, which wasn't necessarily a good thing in her situation.

Hermione found that the entirety of the downstairs of the small townhouse was open. To the right of the door was a wooden spiral staircase, to the left a kitchen area and the rest housed a dining table with chairs and a comfy looking sofa.

"Try not to speak," Bellatrix whispered before the man could get within earshot.

Hermione just nodded once, deciding it wasn't worth challenging her.

"I need something from you," Bella's voice was light, conversational.

The man nodded. "Of course, I have the jar upstairs-"

"Not the flower. I need your log book."

The man's jaw went slack and he just stared, slowly switching between Bellatrix and Hermione with a vacant expression.

"I know you lack basic intelligence, but do at least make an effort to stay with us, Carter," Bellatrix's bored tone made Hermione chuckle as the man returned from whatever planet he'd been on.

"My log book is private," the man, now identified as Carter, shifted uncomfortably.

"I. Need. It," the careful pronunciation of each word combined with the cruel look on her face made Bellatrix look even scarier than she usually did– and somehow even more beautiful too.

Carter stumbled back and slowly picked up a leather bound book from the desk behind him, clutching it to his chest. "But it's mine."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes and she looked to Hermione, gesturing with her eyes towards the book.

Hermione could only guess that Bellatrix wanted her to get it, so she waited until Bellatrix started engaging him in conversation again, until his attention was far from her before she crept up behind him and snatched the book from his arms.

"Hey! Give that back!" he lunged for Hermione, wand out, and managed to elbow her and hit her with a hex across the cheek, causing a burn mark to appear where the magic had struck.

The elbow had been pathetic and had only left a dull ache in her ribs, but the burn stung and Hermione bit her tongue to stop herself from crying out.

She turned to hex him back, not thinking for a moment about having the Trace on her, but before she could Bellatrix already had him suspended in the air, a cruel smile painted on her face as she held her wand aimed at him.

"Is that any way to treat a young lady?" Bellatrix sounded less appalled and more gleeful, and Hermione could only guess it was because she had an excuse to inflict pain. "Cruci-"

"No!" Hermione stepped in front of Bella, blocking her path to Carter as whatever magic was suspending him fell away and he hit the floor with a deep thud.

Bellatrix hissed, the same crazed look in her eyes as before. She aimed her wand at Hermione, then slowly dropped it to her side when Hermione flinched away. "Don't ruin my fun!"

"That's not fun, that's…" Hermione stopped when Bellatrix aimed her wand at her again. "What are you going to-?"

Wordlessly, the dark witch waved her wand and Hermione slowly lifted her fingers to touch the perfect soft skin of her cheek where the burn used to be.

"Thank you," Hermione blinked in shock.

"Don't mention it," Bellatrix said dully, then looked back to Carter who was groaning on the floor with a smirk. "What do you want to do about that, then?"

"Leave him," Hermione said, opening the log book to the most recent page.

Bella pouted. "That's no fun."

"Please can you just take us back?" Hermione asked pleadingly. Watching Bellatrix torture a man was not something that she wanted to do.

She glanced down at the page and flicked backwards through the book, doing a good job of ignoring Carter's moans.

Apparently Bellatrix was not as tolerant and Hermione looked up when the moans suddenly cut off to find that the dark witch had cast a silencing spell on him.

"I don't recognise any of the names. Once we're back, I'll look at it more thoroughly though," Hermione looked up at the other woman who was regarding the silently groaning man on the floor with pursed lips, seeming to be in her own world as she did.

"Bellatrix?" Hermione took a step forward, placing a hand on her arm when the Death Eater's name didn't pull her from her thoughts.

The physical contact did and she lifted her head to meet Hermione's eyes. She was quiet and still, so much so that it concerned the Gryffindor on an entirely new level.

"Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" came Bellatrix's soft reply.

"You just seemed worlds away," Hermione hadn't noticed that she hadn't taken her hand off Bellatrix's arm until the dark witch looked down at it with furrowed brows. Quickly, as if the touch might suddenly burn her, she snatched it back.

Bellatrix turned to Carter and aimed her wand at him, the word slipping off of her tongue effortlessly. "Obliviate."

Hermione watched as the man's memories of the visit today faded and the silencing spell wore off, but before he could look up and see them, Bellatrix had already grabbed Hermione's arm and apparated.

— — —

After getting back to Bellatrix's safehouse, Hermione had sat in front of the fire and was flicking through the log book. She wasn't surprised to find that most of the buyers over the past year were Bellatrix, but there were several people who had also invested in the rare flower.

Unfortunately, none of them stood out, so Hermione looked up at Bella who was sideways in her favourite armchair, legs dangling over one armrest– Hermione had now labelled this as Bellatrix's Favourite Position in Bellatrix's Favourite Armchair, only to laugh internally at the innuendo– reading a book.

Only she wasn't. Hermione noticed that she hadn't turned a page since she'd opened it to begin with and her eyes were unmoving. She just stared at a point on the page and didn't look away, lost in her head again, and Hermione found herself wondering what she was thinking about.

"I can't see anyone in here I know," she sighed, casting the book aside and bringing Dumbledore's copy of Beedle the Bard into her lap, running her hand over the cover.

"Is that my copy?" Bellatrix, who had just looked up from her book, eyed the brunette with an unreadable expression.

"No, I got it from Dumbledore," Hermione said, almost defensively, and Bellatrix only scoffed at the mention of the old man's name before going back to her not-reading.

"What are we going to do about the names? If I don't recognise anyone-"

Bellatrix cut her off, ending the sentence for her. "Then I guess we'll have to go and question everyone, but we've got another week left on the Veritaserum."

Hermione huffed, opening her book to the symbol again. She looked up at Bellatrix and then down at the symbol again, then she crawled across the carpet to Bellatrix's armchair, dropping the book in her lap.

Bellatrix balled her hands into fists after she had gingerly balanced her book on the top of the armchair, looking at Hermione with an unimpressed raise of her eyebrows. "Did you leave your manners at Carter's?"

Hermione, not wanting to give in and have to apologise, simply rolled her eyes and pointed to the symbol in the book that was now in the dark witch's lap. "You see this? Do you know what it means?"

"What? The Deathly Hallows?"

"The what?"

"The Deathly Hallows," Bellatrix picked up the book and motioned with her finger to the different parts of the symbol. "Elder Wand, Invisibility Cloak, Resurrection Stone. The Tale of the Three Brothers? No? Aren't you familiar with it?"

Hermione stared at where Bellatrix's chipped manicured nails had traced, eyes slightly narrowed. "I'm familiar with it but isn't it just a story?"

"Isn't there always some truth to a myth?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow and couldn't help the chuckle as Hermione snatched the book back from her lap. "So eager. Why does this mean so much to you?"

"It… it doesn't. I mean, I'm sure it doesn't mean anything."

"Such a terrible liar," Bellatrix sat up properly in her armchair now, watching as Hermione went back to read the story of the three brothers again.

"I'm not a terrible liar," Hermione shuffled on the rug uneasily, sitting on her knees in front of the fire as she avoided Bella's eyes.

The Death Eater decided to let it go, smirking to herself as she continued to read. Before she could focus her mind on the novel, however, there was an odd scratching coming from the main hall.

Hermione had heard it too and both witches got up, stalking towards the hallway with their wands drawn.

Hermione was aware of the fact that she still had the Trace on her and only planned to use her wand in the most dire of circumstances. As they approached the front door– which they'd determined was the source of the noise– Hermione lowered her wand. She knew exactly what was making that noise.

Bellatrix warily opened the door and Crookshanks shot inside, and was in Hermione's arms before the dark witch could even register what had invited itself into her home.

"You found me," Hermione giggled, snuggling the cat.

"It's a sad day when muddy's part Kneazle cat can find my safehouse but the Dark Lord's most intelligent followers can't find–"

"Hey," Hermione cuddled the cat against her and laughed, "don't dis the cat."

Bellatrix regarded the two with sharp eyes. "If he gets fur on my furniture then I'll be making a coat out of him, I hope he knows."

Hermione carried Crookshanks towards the stairs, Bellatrix branching off to the sitting room. "He knows."

"He better," Bellatrix called after Hermione as the brunette took the stairs two at a time and disappeared into her room.

— — —

The following morning, Bellatrix didn't come downstairs for breakfast. Hermione had even gone to the dark witch's bedroom door, knocking, but there had been no reply. Not wanting to walk into Bellatrix's room without permission in the fear that the older woman might crucify her on the spot right then and there, she had left it and asked Tilly about it when she'd been served breakfast.

"Mistress had a difficult night last night," Tilly had whispered, placing pancakes on the table. "Anne had to stay up all night to stop Mistress from throwing anything else around her room."

Hermione had been half woken up last night many times by distant-sounding thudding or cracking noises, but she had only assumed that it was the elves. It had never crossed her mind that it was Bellatrix having a breakdown.

"Why did she have a difficult night?" Hermione's brows furrowed as she took a bite of the first pancake, unable to stop herself from smiling when she tasted them.

"Tilly is not supposed to talk about it, Anne says Mistress might get very angry with Tilly if she says anything."

Hermione didn't want Tilly to get in trouble, but she made a mental note to ask Bellatrix about it when she finally emerged.

After thanking the elf and finishing her breakfast, Hermione started browsing Bella's bookshelf again, but quickly her eyes wandered to the hallway and she felt the urge to go and explore while Bellatrix wasn't supervising her.

Hermione made her way to the kitchen door and, when she opened it, she was greeted with the smell of pancakes from breakfast and the clattering of pots and pans being washed on their own.

It was quite a small room. Against the wall to her left, there was a place to wash clothes, although it didn't look like it had been used recently. Hermione imagined that the elves used some form of magic to clean all of Bellatrix's clothes. There was a cooker and a countertop with a sink, a fridge and an oven, all only a few paces away against a wall. To her right, there was a small archway, small enough that she would have to duck to fit under it, that lead to a dimly lit room. Hermione couldn't see beyond that and she thought it must be for the elves.

Tilly came through the archway, looking shocked. "What is Miss Hermione doing here?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. I'm just having a look around."

"Miss Hermione is welcome anytime."

"Do you live in there?" Hermione asked, gesturing to the room beyond the archway.

The elf nodded, smiling, gesturing for Hermione to follow. "Come and see."

Through the archway, which Hermione carefully ducked under, was a small room lit by candles. There were three small metal framed beds with sheets and blankets, two windows covered with curtains and a nightstand containing a cupboard to go with each bed.

"I've never seen elf living quarters like this," Hermione couldn't help the smile as she thought of how kind Bellatrix was to her elves.

In one of the beds, Anne was in a deep slumber, so Hermione made a point of being quiet, but she couldn't contain the small laugh. She'd always seen elves living in basements or cellars, made to sleep on shelving or the floor, so this was a nice change.

"Mistress let Tilly, Anne and Moody set up a room."

"That was… really nice of her."

Tilly nodded vigorously, her ears flapping.

After admiring the elves' room, Hermione made her way to the next room, the door having been closed so long it was stuck, but she managed to shove it hard enough to open it.

Inside there were an array of different musical instruments, some Hermione couldn't even put a name to. What really caught her attention, however, was the dusty guitar that sat in the far corner. It was on its own, not bunched with other instruments like the others, and Hermione found herself pitying it.

Before she knew what she was doing, she had picked the instrument up and was walking out of the room towards the sitting room she'd just came from. She didn't know how long Bella would be absent for and planned to make the most of her alone time.

She'd had a few lessons as a child when she had attended muggle school, but they had only been basic ones and she hadn't carried on with them. She balanced the guitar over her lap and started wiping away the dust from the body and fretboard. She was surprised to find that the instrument sounded perfectly in tune and could only imagine that a charm was keeping it that way.

Slowly, she ran her fingers over the strings. When she decided that it didn't sound too bad, she tried one of the chords she'd learnt as a child only to mess it up and make a sound similar to that of a fox screaming.

Not very elegant, she winced.

She tried again, failing, when Crookshanks appeared. He rubbed his ears on Hermione's legs, purring at her.

"Not now," she said, tickling him behind the ear once before putting her hand back on the guitar.

The more she played– rather, the more she failed to produce a decent sound– the more persistent he became. He was adamant that she needed comfort and even went to the lengths of jumping onto the sofa, which Hermione thought Bellatrix would not approve of, and crawling between Hermione and the instrument, planting himself over her lap and knocking it out of the way.

It only then dawned on Hermione, right when she was ready to boot the animal out of the house altogether, that he thought that she was crying.

Whatever noise that she was making sounded so atrocious that the animal plucked for the only explanation he deemed possible, that Hermione was upset.

She laughed at herself, putting the guitar to the side and balancing it against the sofa before she cuddled the ginger cat.

"What have you been doing down here? It sounded like you were strangling a-" Bellatrix glanced from Hermione to the guitar at her side and the cat on her lap, running her fingers through her wet curls as she narrowed her eyes. "Where did you get that?"

Hermione's eyes travelled involuntarily up and down Bellatrix's figure which was being hugged almost too tightly by a black silk robe that came down to the woman's ankles. Her feet were bare, Hermione noticed, and Bellatrix didn't seem to be wearing anything underneath the silk. Hermione's eyes lingered on the nipples that were poking out against the thin fabric from the cold, tearing her gaze away when she realised that she might have been looking for too long.

"I, uh," she blinked, "I found it."

"Mhm," Bellatrix sat down on the sofa, as far from Hermione as she could, looking down at her manicured fingernails that Hermione noticed were no longer chipped like last night. "Did you not hear me when I told you not to go wandering?"

Hermione only now saw the shadows and the eerily vacant glaze over the dark witch's eyes. Hermione wanted to ask Bellatrix about last night, but something about her demeanour was scary and she decided against it.

"I heard you, I was just curious. You were gone a while," Hermione replied hurriedly, feeling Bellatrix's gaze burn into her as her eyes flickered down to Crookshanks again.

"Don't be," was Bella's blunt reply, followed by a snappy, "and get the cat off the furniture."