Chapter 11

She returned from Diagon Alley late in the afternoon carrying two bags of shopping. Hermione had bought herself some new books, one on Ancient Magic that caused Andromeda to raise her eyebrows when she flicked through it and saw just how dark the magic described was, and one on myths about Death. When Andromeda asked why she needed books like this, Hermione reminded her that she was working with Narcissa on the project given to them by Kingsley and she couldn't say anything else but she did notice that from that moment on, Andromeda gave her sideways glances a little more often.

Now that she closed the door to her flat behind her Hermione could finally breathe a sigh of relief. She threw her bags onto the sofa, kicked off her shoes and unbuttoned her coat. She then walked into the kitchen, poured herself a glass of orange juice and drank it in one go. Her eyes were peeled on the kitchen window and it was only then that she noticed the owl sitting on the window sill outside.

Hermione quickly opened the window and let the bird in. A piece of parchment was strapped to its paw and she carefully removed it before giving the owl some water. She unrolled the letter and recognised Ron's messy handwriting.

Dear Hermione,

I don't know how you will feel when you receive this letter but I just want you to know that, when you're ready, I am willing to give our marriage a second chance. I've done a lot of thinking and I know I haven't always been the best husband to you but I really think that I can change. Why don't you come over to Mum and Dad's this weekend and we can talk?

Love,
Ron.

Hermione sighed and left the letter on the window sill. She had hoped Ron would say that he was ready to go separate ways but it seemed that he had different thoughts. She really didn't want to go and see him, and she definitely didn't want to talk. She turned on her heel and walked back into the living room. She grabbed the bag containing her new books and sat down. She opened the first book, Ancient Magic of Our World, and started reading.

It was dark by the time she put the book down. She was about half way through but she had struggled to keep her concentration. Every few minutes her mind was taken back to the moment in the park, Bellatrix's wet body against hers. She could still smell her, taste her, feel her. Nothing she did was able to erase those images from her mind. She didn't want to. She kept calling them back up, playing them over and over again in her head.

It was almost midnight when Hermione stood up. Instead of walking to the bedroom she went to the front door, put her coat back ion and stepped outside. It had stopped raining but the streets were wet and a cold wind pulled at her hair. The streets were quirt at this time, there was nobody else around. She turned on the spot after calling up the image of a place she believed she would never return to and when she opened her eyes she found herself standing in the Wiltshire countryside, looking up at Malfoy Manor.

After Lucius has been imprisoned, Narcissa had divorced her husband and shed his last night but she had claimed the Manor. It had undergone a transformation over the last three years in an attempt to rid it of its horrible and haunted reputation. As Hermione approached the gates they swung open and she slowly started up the long gravelled path that led to the oak front doors.

They opened before she had a chance to knock and Hermione's breath hitched as she stepped into the entrance hall. She had vivid memories of the night she first came here, held prisoner by Death Eaters and met by Bellatrix Lestrange. It was the night Bellatrix had carved the word mudblood into her arm and tortured her within an inch of her life. It was the same night her life changed; after that night nothing would ever be the same again.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," spoke a woman's voice and Hermione turned around towards the staircase. Narcissa stood at the top, dressed in a pair of cobalt blue robes. Her blonde hair fell freely down her shoulders and her intense eyes were fixed on the brunette standing in the hall. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

"I need to talk to you," Hermione answered, unable to hide the tremor in her voice.

Narcissa strode gracefully down the staircase, her fingers trailing over the ivory bannister. She never took her eyes off Hermione and the corners of her mouth twitched, hinting at a disdainful smile. "Correct me if I'm wrong but I seem to remember that the last time we were in each other's company, you told me to get out before you'd kill me."

"I'm not saying I won't," Hermione replied sharply, reminding Narcissa that their disagreement was not yet a thing of the past. "But Kingsley did put us together and you are the only one I can talk to."

Narcissa had reached the bottom step and her eyes now curiously swept over Hermione's frame, lingering a moment too long on her figure hugging jeans. "Very well," she conceded and gestured towards the sitting room. "If you'd be so kind…"

She went ahead into the large room. The high ceilings were decorated with Victorian style roses and, since Lucius had moved out, had been painted from black to white. The black marble floors had been replaced for dark wooden floorboards. All of the Malfoy family paintings had been taken down and the heavy black curtains that had once decorated the windows were gone too. The high windows were now obscured by velvet white curtains and Hermione could feel the transformation as she walked into the room.

Her eyes were drawn to the large fireplace. Flames were dancing away, eating at heavy logs of wood. The warmth was a welcome feeling and she accepted Narcissa's offer to sit down in one of the arm chairs. She cast the blonde witch a sideways look. In the golden glow of the fire Narcissa looked so much younger and almost fragile. Any resemblance to her sister had been robbed away.

"What can I do for you, Miss Granger?" Narcissa asked, folding her hands into her lap.

"The spell Bellatrix performed," Hermione began. "I need to know how it can be undone."

Narcissa's blue eyes searched Hermione's face in an attempt to understand why she would ask this question. "My dear, it can't be undone."

"But that's not true, is it?" Hermione said and from the way Narcissa's pupils unexpectedly dilated she knew she was right. She scooted forward into her seat. "There is a way to make the spell come undone."

Narcissa heaved a sigh. "There is but it is impossible, especially in my sister's case."

"Because to make the spell come undone, the person who cast it has to undone what they have done themselves," Hermione said and she watched Narcissa's face as her features softened. "The only way for someone to persuade Death to give back their freedom and their life before the spell, they have to give Death something else in return."

"Forgiveness." Narcissa said it so quietly that Hermione could barely hear her. "To undo the spell, the person who cast the spell must find forgiveness of those they have hurt throughout their life." Intense blue eyes swept over Hermione's face and she shook her head. "How did you know? That part of the spell is not mentioned anywhere."

"It's not about what I know, it's about what Bellatrix knows."

Narcissa suddenly stood up. "You think that's what this is? You think that whatever happened between you and Bellatrix…" She couldn't bring herself to say the rest of the sentence out loud. She turned to Hermione, a mixture of anger and disbelief flickering behind her eyes. "You think she did that because she is looking for your forgiveness?"

Hermione averted her eyes, unable to bear Narcissa's gaze any longer. She didn't regret shouting at her the day before but she did regret coming here tonight. "She said she did what needed to be done."

Narcissa frowned. "You saw her?" She walked over to Hermione and held still in front of her. Her hand shot out and she grabbed Hermione's chin, forcing her to look up at her. The younger witch rebelliously pulled free but blazing eyes met Narcissa's cool ones. "When did you see her?!"

"Last night," Hermione answered.

"How?" Narcissa breathed. "How did you find her?"

"I went back to Imagine. I tracked her down." Hermione shrugged. "It wasn't hard."

"Hermione, I have been trying to find Bellatrix for months. Even while we were in the same building I never managed to find her!" Narcissa exclaimed and she dropped down to her knees before Hermione and took her hands into her own. There was despair etched across her face and Hermione was surprised to see Narcissa kneel down in front of her. Narcissa's eyes held Hermione's and she brought Hermione's hands up to her face before pleading, "Listen to me when I say that this is never going to happen. Bellatrix is never going to get her life back. She is never going to be normal."

"Who said I expected her to be normal?"

"Don't treat me like a fool. I can see what happened. My sister used you for her own gain. That's what she does. Bellatrix has always used people for her own benefit. Everything she ever did was just for her own gain. Don't believe, not for a moment, that my sister has feelings for you. She is dead, Hermione. She cannot feel."

"And what if I believe you're wrong?"

"Then you're risking your own life as well as the lives of everyone who ever meant anything to you."

Hermione cocked her head. "Including you?"

Narcissa pulled her hands away from Hermione and stood up. She turned her back on her and strode over to the fireplace. She pensively stared into the flames. "Probably," she answered. "Though I do not expect you to care."

"You know I can't keep doing this, don't you?" Hermione asked. "I can't do what Kingsley asked of us."

"Then you tell him you refuse to do your job," Narcissa answered bitterly. "Because I won't."

"What is wrong with you?" Hermione asked and she stood up too. Her eyes pierced into Narcissa's back. "Don't you realise there is a chance you could have your sister back?"

Narcissa spun around, tears glistening in her eyes. "Have you ever thought about the possibility that maybe I do not want her back?" She fought against her tears but lost and a lonely drop trickled down her cheek. "My sister is dead, Hermione, and I would like for it to stay that way because nothing good ever came from her being alive."

Hermione stared at Narcissa and in that instant she realised she had walked into something that went far deeper than the eye could see. She'd heard the stories about the Black family when she was still at Hogwarts. Sirius had told Harry how most of his family had been into the Dark Arts and that Bellatrix and her sisters never stood much of a chance with a dad like Cygnus. When Bellatrix became a Death Eater, nobody was surprised. Andromeda ran away and Narcissa….

"You were the one that was left behind." The worlds rolled off her tongue with surprising ease and she watched how Narcissa's face changed into a mask of pain. "Sirius was right. You never stood a chance. Bellatrix abandoned you and Andromeda abandoned you too." She took a step closer to Narcissa. "What did she do that makes you so desperate?"

"It's none of your business," Narcissa snapped unexpectedly and the moment between them was broken. "Just think about what you're stirring up if you decide to change this crazy obsession of yours. Bellatrix is never going to change."

"Is that why you haven't told Kingsley that you know someone actually used the spell?" Hermione asked. "You knew long before I did. All you had to do was tell him. I'm sure the Aurors would have tracked her down by now. Why didn't you?"

"I…" Narcissa began but her voice trailed off.

"You couldn't."

"He wouldn't have believed me anyway," Narcissa sneered. "I didn't see the point of trying to convince the Minster of Magic that Bellatrix was still out there."

Hermione shook her head. "You were afraid. You were afraid that he would believe you and that he would find Bellatrix. You didn't want him to find her and you didn't want me to find her either. Why?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters enough for you to try and tell me to walk away."

"Just do that. Just walk away. Do us all a favour and forget this ever happened. Go to Kingsley and tell him we couldn't find anything. Then all of this will be over and we can go back to living our lives."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "You know that I will find out what you're hiding, Narcissa."

Narcissa's eyes darkened and she stepped closer to Hermione. Her voice was dangerously low. "You watch your step, Miss Granger, because I am not the type of person you would want as your enemy." She lifted up her chin with pride and confidence. "You will never win."

Hermione didn't answer. Instead she turned around and walked out of the sitting room, leaving the doors wide open in her wake. She stepped out into the cold, rainy night and turned on the spot before she had even reached the last of the steps leading to the gravelled path. By the time Narcissa had reached the front door in a desperate bid to call her back, Hermione was already gone.

~()~

Hermione walked into her office just before nine o'clock the next morning. She was tired. After her visit to Narcissa she hadn't slept much. She'd spent the remainder of the night reading both the books she had bought the previous day. Her body ached and cried out for sleep but she would have to keep herself awake with a copious amount of coffee.

She'd only just reached her desk and sank down in her chair when there was a knock on her door. When she looked up she found Kingsley stepping into her office. He closed the door behind him and walked across the room until he reached the two chairs across her desk. Hermione made an informal hand gesture and he sat down.

"Good morning Kingsley," she said with a smile. "How can I help you?"

"I had a visitor earlier this morning," Kingsley said and he pressed his fingertips together. His dark eyes were fixed on Hermione. "Narcissa Black."

Hermione sat bolt upright and her heart skipped a beat. Adrenaline suddenly rushed through her veins and she mentally told herself to stay calm. "Oh," she said neutrally. "I wasn't aware we were due a briefing on our investigation so far."

"Neither was I," Kingsley answered and his dark eyes searched Hermione's face. "But Miss Black informed me that so far you two have been unable to identify anything associated with the Book of the Dead. She says that there is no evidence anyone used the spell recently but she does recommend the book is locked safely in one of the Ministry's vaults, away from possible prying eyes."

Hermione's breath hitched. "Miss Black is right," she answered. "So far we have found nothing. I didn't know exactly what we were looking for but I am satisfied that the Book isn't currently a threat for our society which doesn't mean that, in the wrong hands, it wouldn't be."

"Listen Hermione, I know it was a lot to ask of you to work with Narcissa. I know you two have history, especially concerning her sister, but I need you to understand that I wouldn't have done it if I didn't think you two were a great magical match," Kingsley said. "Her magic is unprecedented and your skills are highly valued. You make a great team."

"You're making it sound like you want us to work together on future projects," Hermione pointed out, hoping deep down that she was wrong.

"Only if you were to be willing."

"Narcissa and I have our differences, sir," Hermione answered, leaving it up to Kingsley to interpret just how their relationship worked. "It took quite a bit of composure from both our sides to tolerate the other's company."

"Very well," Kingsley said and he stood up. "For now your working relationship with Miss Black has come to an end. She made sure to mention that she enjoyed working with you and is looking forward to spending more time in your company during future assignments."

"Duly noted," Hermione answered as she bit back the venom in her voice. Narcissa had gone to Kingsley behind her back. She managed to appear calm when she was reeling inside. She forced herself to smile. The words she spoke tasted bitter on her tongue but she spoke them anyway. "I look forward to it."

"I shall leave you to the business of your day," Kingsley said as he turned around in the doorway. "Thank you, Hermione."

She merely smiled as he left and once he was gone she slammed her fist onto her desk with such force that the pain was blinding. In her chest her heart felt like it was about to explode and after a few minutes she got up, walked out of her office and found her secretary Susanna sitting at her desk down the hall. The young girl looked up when Hermione approached.

"Anything you need, Miss Granger?" she asked.

"No, thank you, Susanna," Hermione answered. "I'm afraid I have to leave. Can you see to it all appointments are rescheduled for later this week?" The girl nodded. "Oh and send an owl to my husband telling him I'll be meeting him at his parents' on Sunday." She swung her coat over her shoulders. "If anybody asks, I've been called out on a family emergency."

It was an emergency allright, Hermione thought as she walked out of the Ministry ten minutes later. Just not of the family kind.