EDIT: Sorry everyone! That's what you get for being tired! XD Right chapter up right now, thanks for the heads up!
I hesitated with this chapter, because on the one hand I'm not entirely happy with it, but on the other I'm not fully sure why. After browsing through it for three days I did a mental shrug and decided to move on. I guess one day this is one of the chapters I might rewrite or add to... but at the moment I just don't have any ideas. Ah well. At least I remember that the research I did for the things displayed in the Ministry of Magic was mucho fun :) I'm awfully tired, so sorry if I don't sound very coherent right now *yawn*
Snapesbloodredneko: Ron and Hermione is ewww... but all in due time :D For the moment, they are still an item *sigh*
imperfectionisunderrated: Awesome review is awesome *grin* By the way, it's 'aber ich bin nur der Leser' ;) You used the plural form. But I'm impressed! :D Writing Bellatrix being annoying, childish and a poser is the most fun eveeeer. Tell me how you liked the songs!
unicorn23: Every review is welcomed with open arms :D So thanks!
idbeinthefollies: Thank you! Bellamione is my crack. The pairing should make no sense at all, but it's soooo addictive. So welcome on board, glad I made you change your mind ;)
Angoisse: Very fitting description, haha! I can totally relate!
List of Romantics: You will hear from my lawyer! Haha, no, sorry, I'm kidding XD You'll get a lengthy reply per PM from me in a sec, that's better than to spam the story with my babbling. :)
OpheliaBlack: McGonagall is pretty happy she can keep an eye on both Bellatrix and Hermione this way. There are several teachers there that are able to control things as well. Hogwarts is and will always be the safest place for both of them, so it's also to protect them from assault, which is why Kingsley made the decision to send them there. McGonagall also saw that Hermione is able to deal with the situation (or rather, deal with Bella) and believes that if anything should happen, Hermione will come to her for help :) I hope that made it clearer. As for what Bella does during the day... I think no one feels responsible to keep her entertained. But more on that later. I love the Thestrals and I think the two fit soo, so well together! *fangirling moment*
Berserkeroo: Well, I probably won't become sick of hearing it! :D
borisinwonderland: Great to hear! Thank you :) I hope to entertain!
Greyella: Thanks! *bow* Writing Bella's shenanigans is incredible fun, I'm glad it comes across! ^^
You guys are aaaawesuuuum. Keep rockin', everybody! :D *double yawn* I forgot what I wanted to say... so I'll just say Thank you!
12. Parting the Veil
"It doesn't matter how long we may have been stuck in a sense of our limitations. If we go into a darkened room and turn on the light, it doesn't matter if the room has been dark for a day, a week, or ten thousand years - we turn on the light and it is illuminated. Once we control our capacity for love and happiness, the light has been turned on." - Sharon Salzberg
Hermione's timetable was, as every year, filled to the brim with lessons of all kinds. Thankfully, there was no need for a time-turner, as there most likely wouldn't have been anyone able to give one to her. There was even enough time on the weekends for browsing the library and visiting Hogsmeade with her friends.
But the young woman was excused from her first day at school during the late afternoon, with her and Bellatrix having an invitation to the marvelous Department of Mysteries. Hermione could feel herself grow giddy with anticipation at visiting the mysterious part of the Ministry without being followed or, well, hunted by Death Eaters.
An anxious Bellatrix and her went to meet McGonagall in the Headmistress' office. The younger woman observed the goblin at the stairs with a touch of sadness, knowing it wouldn't be Dumbledore they would meet. Yet she remembered the talk they had with him closely after the battle, the former Headmaster now framed along the wall, before they had gone to the bridge and watched the destroyed parts of the Elder Wand fall down into the canyon. Her heart eased a little.
"Good day, professor McGonagall," Hermione greeted the Headmistress with a small smile and took a glance at Dumbledore's picture on the wall. The great wizard appeared to be reading a book, but looked up from behind his glasses and winked at her when she passed by. She nodded at him in greeting, quite happy to see him so relaxed.
"Ah, the ones I was waiting for. Are you ready to go? I'm afraid I won't be able to accompany you due to my current duties, but Master Garald will meet you in the Entrance Hall of the Ministry." McGonagall sat up from behind her table, robes and hair sitting as correct and perfect as ever. Even after the battle at Hogwarts it seemed that the older lady was the only one wearing dirt, blood and tattered clothes with a royal dignity not even a Black daughter could pull off.
"We're ready to move out," Hermione confirmed, trying to ignore the passing pure-blood behind her.
"Very well. Here, take the Floo Network, I had them authorize an open connection for today." The Headmistress presented a small bowl with the useful powder and placed it on a table near her fireplace. "I'll await you back in at least two hours."
Hermione hated traveling by Floo Network. It made her sick to the stomach, but after several uses, she had managed to control the urge to have it just be an uncomfortable feeling seeping into her whole intestines, but she doubted she would ever get fully used to it. Taking heart and coloring the flames green with a small dose of the powder, she quickly stepped inside, closed her eyes and voiced her destination.
Stumbling out of the Ministry's fireplace, Hermione shuddered and tried to shake off the queasy twitching of her stomach muscles. Just imagining having to use this connection every day to get to work here was impossible. She'd rather fly by broom than make use of this every single morning.
Bellatrix stepped out after her a mere second later, looking for all the world as if she had just walked through an open doorway. Annoyed envy flared up in the brunette's mind and she gritted her teeth at the portrayed nonchalance.
Once again the appearance of the former Death Eater proved to capture severe attention, if not as strong as in the Great Hall. Here, most people were simply to busy to break their stride and gawp at the raven-haired woman. But in many corners she could see the officials put together their heads, whisper with barely hidden glances in their direction and not hiding their snide faces. She had the feeling it would be best not to linger here too long... before someone had the idea to try something stupid.
"Madame Black. Miss Granger. Please follow me," mentioned a voice to the side and Hermione had to turn around to see the quite small and incredibly impassive Master Garald nod at her in his dark purple robes. Surprised at his out-of-nowhere appearance and the short-clipped sentences, the younger witch could do little but follow him to the next set of elevators in a hurry.
"And good day to you, too, you funny goblin," Bellatrix grumbled from behind her, causing Hermione to quickly hide a laugh behind a cough.
The Head of the Department of Mysteries spend no time wasting and led them down the corridor leading to his realm of command, opening the door at the end with a flick of his wand. Once again Hermione found herself in the eery room with the water-like ground and the identical twelve doors, creating a feeling of unrest in her body. The last time she had been here, her life had been in great danger and Lord Voldemort had been only one step away from assuming unending control over the Wizarding World by killing Harry.
And behind one of these, Bellatrix had killed Sirius Black in cold blood.
Better not think about that now, considering you're so close to help fulfilling her one dream. It would only leave a bitter taste in her mouth.
Aiming at one of the doors with purpose, Master Garald led them through the opening doorway into what Hermione remembered distinctly as the Time Room. While still filled with clocks of all kind and sizes, the spot where the time-turners had rested was understandably empty. The wonderful lights glowing all around them had Hermione walk slower in renewed awe and caused the dark witch to almost bump into her back.
"Stop gawking and move it, muddy." Bellatrix pushed past her and followed the Department Head with a slight spring in her step.
They walked until they could only stop in front of one of the walls, lest they head right in it. But the Master tapped the polished stone with his wand and a doorway peeled itself out of the material. After they had passed this next safety measure, they now entered what seemed to be an ancient depository, filled with trinkets, weapons, things and other odds and ends with a curious or mysterious nature.
Hermione sauntered wide eyed along the displayed glass cases. I guess it's not the best moment to tell him that we kids never came as far as the last room, she thought with barely hidden excitement at this warehouse of treasures.
Bellatrix seemed less impressed, but the young woman suspected that the pure-blood had already snooped in the whole department during the time they had layed the trap. They had imperiused two Unspeakables and probably had made good use of them.
The brunette walked slower and slower while trying to absorb all the wonders laid out around her.
There was Fragarach, identified by an old bronze plaquette at the bottom of the glass case. The sword of the supposedly Irish legend seemed old and simple, but there was a feeling of power emanating from the runes on the blade. The cords wrapped around the hilt were wind-swept by a noiseless breeze caught forever between the thick glass walls. Despite the normally fragile nature of the translucent material, the young woman had no doubt that each of the artifacts was nearly as strongly warded as the walls of Azkaban, making them more than unattractive to the grubby hands of thieves.
Maybe they even have Excalibur hidden away in a dark corner of this incredible room, the brunette wondered with a dash of excitement.
And then she passed Gáe Bulg, another well-known weapon of the Irish mythology. The spear seemed forget from one piece and was as whitish-yellow as bone, with intricate carvings, which seemed to move across the shaft in a flowing pattern reminiscent of water and waves. Amazing. History and mythology, right before my eyes. Inches away from my grasp. The temptations the Unspeakables must face every day...
And over here she saw the Necklace of Harmonia, a heavy golden, jewel-encrusted necklace with two snake heads, whose open mouths formed the clasp, laid upon a pedestal painted with scenes of beautiful women across all ages. Wondering why Bellatrix had not taken this obviously displayed charm for eternal youth and beauty, she realized the reason when finding the big sign with 'Cursed!' written across it on the other side.
Hermione had come to a full stop in front of the Crown of Immortality, the jewelery consisting of a laurel wreath shining like the very stars in heaven, when someone cleared their throat behind her in very emphasized, displeased way.
Caught in the act, the young witch stiffened and slowly turned around. Master Garald pierced her with a cross look and pursed his lips, before pointing into the direction they were going. Guessing that a 'No' or a 'Could I just look for a minute?' wouldn't be well received, the young woman turned and moved on with hanging shoulders.
Well, at least she had seen more than most wizards or witches could ever dare to claim.
Now with both witches watched hawk-like by the small man, they reached their destination quite quickly. It was another glass case, containing a pedestal and a thin vial as tall as Hermione's hand was long, filled with a glittering twirling liquid of immense beauty that couldn't quite decide if it wanted to be golden or silver. Behind it, in all its wonderful glory, the young woman had a long glimpse at the infamous 'Picture of Dorian Gray' and was astonished by the loveliness filling her when regarding the handsome, fair-headed youth on it. It was as if the artistically drawn artwork lit up the whole area, causing colors to appear brighter and forms to be more smooth and sharp in contrast to everything else.
"It's beautiful," Hermione found herself saying in breathless veneration.
"Contrary to what Wilde's book says, the picture seems to have been painted by Mister Gray's corrupter and admirer. Wilde thought it to be more dramatic to make two persons out of him." Master Garald surprised them with this piece of information, seemingly oblivious to the attraction of the young man. Instead, he carefully taped his wand on the case hiding Ixion's Tears several times.
"So what happens now?" Bellatrix asked intrigued once she had ripped her gaze from the artwork. "Will there be a special potion? A ritual? Some kind of blood-letting before the stuff works?"
"No," the man replied, rummaging in a pocket of his robes. What he held up next had both women squint their eyes.
It was a spoon.
"I will put a drop of the liquid on the spoon. You will swallow it. Then you can wait until the magic has done its work. End of story." He shrugged, as if it was no big deal.
Bellatrix sniffed, quite unimpressed. "How anticlimactic. If I had known this sooner, I never would have bothered waiting until after the Hogwarts battle."
"Not everything has to be done with pomp and splendour." He turned to the side to carefully open the glass door and pipette a small droplet from the vial. It was still more than half-full and showed how very careful and sparse the Ministry worked with the substance when researching it. "That you receive the honour to benefit from this artifact should be climatic enough." His voice was neutral, not giving away any hint about what he thought about the recently tried pure-blood. Did he dislike her? Did he simply not care?
Although the dark witch's face was impassive, the Gryffindor could see how her hands clenched and unclenched with a bout of nerves. Here was the one substance able to give her back her youth without repercussions, enabling her to live those lost years once again without fear of old age lurking just behind the corner. Hermione would swear that even the former Death Eater could hardly believe that she was standing here today to receive her wish, especially while officially authorized by the Ministry instead of breaking and entering like a common thief.
Before offering her the spoon, laden with what was probably worth more than all pure-blood vaults put together, the Unspeakable closed and spelled the container with the same care and caution as before. "You will not speak to anyone about what you saw here today. Once we leave this room, I will make you secondary Secret Keepers, so you will not be able to abuse the knowledge gathered here."
The dark witch seemed as is she wanted to protest, but the Master's dark eyes were like walls of iron and left them no other choice. There was no doubt he would protect the secrets with his life and end their lives without any qualms, even justified in his actions by the very laws of the Ministry.
"Fine," Bellatrix conceded, stretching out her hand. "Now give me the damn Tears." A quiver of greed carried in her voice, alongside a note of yearning.
Garald didn't seem happy with the action of giving Voldemort's former closest follower one of his most prized possessions, or better, to give them to anyone, but then he grudgingly handed her the spoon. Hermione watched with rapt attention.
There was a glow of naked desire in the pure-blood's eyes as she gazed at the sparkling liquid on the plain metal spoon. With an almost shuddering breath, she opened her mouth and placed the cutlery between her lips, sucking the Tears of Ixion clear of it. She closed her eyes in a rare moment of relaxed rapture, before pulling the spoon back out with an elated glow coloring her features.
"Is it working?" the dark witch demanded to know immediately.
"It needs some time. At least eight to ten hours. By morning you should see the results," Garald answered as flatly as always.
"Hmpf," Bellatrix remarked and threw the metal somewhere between the priceless artifacts with a flick of her wrist. "And I always thought ancient magic was supposed to be impressive."
The Head of the Department glowered at her, then quickly ushered them back out of the room. Once outside, he held true to his promise and forced them under the magic of the Fidelius Charm and instantly Hermione found it to be harder to think about or analyze what they had seen inside. No word of it would pass from her lips or flow from her fingers from now on, at least as long as it could lead back to this place.
Once again watching the sparkling diamond lights flicker across their heads in the Time Room, the young woman didn't see as the pure-blood grew more and more pale, her pallor turning from porcelain white to nearly translucent. Only in the circle of the twelve doors did the brunette realize that something was wrong when Bellatrix stumbled with an agonized 'Ugh' and only kept upright by placing her hand against one of the doors.
"Bellatrix? Everything all right?" Hermione inquired with a hint of concern, carefully coming closer. Instantly her nose was assaulted by the smell of fresh parchment and toothpaste, along with a hard to place note of freshly fallen rain and squelched pine needles wafting from the direction of the door. Amortentia. This has to be the Love Room, the young witch thought absently while placing a palm on the dark witch's shoulder.
Bellatrix was holding a hand to her head and looked worse by the second, her eyelids closed tight. "Feeling... a bit weak. The... the room's spinning. I need a... small moment."
"Ixion's Tears are absorbing her energy. The process is said to be not painful, but very draining. We should move," Garald commented from behind them.
Now desperate to be back on familiar grounds, the Gryffindor placed one of Bellatrix's arms across her shoulder and dragged her forward. First they were moving quite quickly, but as soon as they stepped out of the elevator, the dark witch was like a dead weight at her side.
"Come on," Hermione forced out between clenched teeth, knowing she would be unable to fully carry the other witch despite being half a head taller, "it's not far. Either you help me or I'll start making jokes about your weight for the rest of the school year."
Jabbing the former Death Eater's pride was a well-working tactic and the raven-haired woman really made an effort to get back to her feet. It was enough that Hermione accomplished to drag the other witch to the nearest Floo Network and get her inside and back to the Headmistress' office without buckling under the burden. She didn't even look back to see if Master Garald was following them or had retreated to his own office.
Wheezing, the young woman helped the drained dark witch sit down on the wooden floor, unable to greet the worried teacher awaiting them.
"Miss Granger, what happened? Are you okay?"
"Master Garald... didn't mention... fatigue from the Tears... had to carry... her back..." Hermione gasped out with her hands on her knees. Damn it, the little twit could've at least helped.
"Oh. Good work then. Please, take a moment while I make sure to bring Madame Black into her room," McGonagall offered while brandishing her wand at the half-asleep pure-blood and muttering an incantation under her breath.
"It's fine, I only need a second." Stretching her back and breathing in deeply, the young woman loosened her muscles. "Okay, let's go."
With McGonagall's spell, the eldest Black was as light as a feather and Hermione had no trouble at all carrying the woman when pulling one arm across her shoulders.
Thankfully, it was dinner time in the Great Hall and the school's corridors were nearly empty. They reached the Head Girl's rooms in record time, with the teacher opening all the doors for Hermione and her load. When finally in Bellatrix's bedroom, the young witch threw the older woman down on the covers, earning herself a muffled grunt from the pure-blood.
"Just go to sleep," Hermione directed and had not yet finished her sentence when the raven haired woman was already deep in the land of dreams. McGonagall reversed her spell and they both left the chamber with grateful relief.
"Now that that's done, I hope for your sake that Madame Black will be a bit more... amiable," the Headmistress suggested with a look back over her shoulder.
Hermione couldn't help but chuckle at that. "I think I'd have to turn into a pure-blood or a rare magical creature overnight for that to happen. But while there's life, there's hope, so let's wait until tomorrow, professor."
McGonagall accompanied her student down to dinner, where the Gryffindor sat between her class mates with a note of beginning exhaustion. The day had been quite long and stressful, so after her grumbling stomach had been satisfied, she longed to crawl into her own bed.
When morning dawned and Hermione got ready for breakfast, there was still no peep from behind Bellatrix's door. So instead of waiting any longer and immensely curious about what had happened, the young witch went down for the morning meal. Wondering about her unfailing, new-found sympathy for the mad woman, Hermione filled another plate with a good amount of food and carried it back upstairs. After the draining display yesterday, she could only imagine how ravenous the other witch had to feel.
Hermione had scarcely closed the door to the living room when a joyful cry echoed from the walls, nearly causing her to drop the food in shock. Quickly placing it down on a table, the young woman walked closer, raising her hand to knock.
But before she could get too close to the room, the door was flung open and in between the framework stood a creature of beauty and legends.
Bellatrix Black had turned young again.
"It worked," the same, high-toned voice sprung from youthfully reddened, full lips, stretching over an enticing, joyful smile that offered a view at white, even teeth. "Look, this is... fabulous! I'm more on the later side of my twenties, but what a change!"
Oh, and look Hermione did. Actually, there was nothing in the world that moment that would have caused her to break her stunned stare at the raven-haired goddess displaying her looks with such exuberant delight.
What had already been enticing on the older witch had been refined even more gloriously; now her skin nearly shone with a light, unblemished pallor devoid of any wrinkles but those created by her alluring smile. Bellatrix had never been heavy set, but her dress and corset didn't seem to fit the more slender and well-proportioned body as snug as before. Thick black hair, once showing signs of brittleness, now fell down in a rich, glamorous waterfall where every curl was more splendid than the next.
She was the very definition of a femme fatale you couldn't help but fall prey to, even knowing she was bringing your doom on beautiful, poisoned lips.
And yet, Hermione was mostly held captive by the fact that she saw Bellatrix's real eye color sparkling beneath the heavy lashes and wide opened lids for the first time. The normally so bottomless black eyes were alive with glee in a melting chocolate brown that had goose bumps erupt all over the younger witch's body.
This... is her first real smile. It's... so beautiful.
...Jealousy. It's just jealousy. - My goodness, what a vision. Good I already set the plate down.
"Uh," Hermione managed to say intelligently.
The moment was disrupted by Bellatrix spinning around and hurrying back to the mirror hanging inside her wardrobe, the dark witch turning from side to side to regard her frame from all sides and touching slender fingers to her sharp jawbones and supple cheeks.
Hermione used the break to turn away and remind herself that breathing was an essential part when one wanted to live. "Oh boy," she murmured quietly, "now the posing will reach whole new heights." No wonder, with those looks. Oh, shut up.
Fanning air to her warm face, the Gryffindor winced when another scream pierced the silence, this time quite in the opposite spectrum of emotions. Now braced for the impressive display of the dark haired woman, she hurried back to the door... to find the dark witch starring with horror at the scars bulging on the skin of her thin wrists.
"But... but what...what's this?" Bellatrix stuttered out in an unbelieving shriek.
Hermione put her side against the door frame, leaning her head against the wood with a sad gaze. "You forgot to read the small print, didn't you?" she asked with compassion for the distraught look on the former Death Eater's plight. "The Tears of Ixion only reverse the age of the cells-..."
"These... horrible marks should be gone! I should be back to my former beauty! Without this... this... cursed memory all over my body!" With a frantic movement, the dark witch ripped the cloth on her left side up her ribs, causing Hermione to blush at the sudden display of naked skin.
Get a grip! It's just a bloody patch of unclothed ribs!
But it wasn't just that. Another set of thick, red scars marked her flesh behind the black cloth, the inconsistency and uneven line making it appear as if created by the fangs of a rabid animal. One with very large teeth and a very large problem in form of a certain raven-haired woman.
Bellatrix let the fabric slip back down with a violent scream and kicked the mirror so hard that the surface rippled and splintered into several large fractures. "I'll kill them! They will suffer for this, these bloody, stunted Ministry lapdogs! I'm going to make them and each of their families regret they were born into this world until they beg and plead for mercy when crawling in their own gore and excrements!"
Uh oh... here we go. New package, same content. The former Death Eater was cursing herself into a rage, already there was the unrestrained glint of madness coloring her eyes black. Hermione drew her wand and slowly inched backwards out the door.
Wrong move.
Bellatrix's livid gaze caught the movement and turned to her, her lips drawn back in a snarl and transforming the beautiful features into a mask of disgusted loathing.
"You," she spat, "this is all your fault, you stupid piece of shit!"
Hermione knew that it was, in fact, not her fault that the eldest (or now youngest?) Black had failed to inform herself properly. But if there was one character trait the brunette couldn't claim for herself, then it was being needlessly suicidal. So she kept her mouth shut, ready to defend herself.
The raven-haired woman didn't fail to deliver and threw herself at the taller witch with a dangerous hiss that could as well have been Parseltongue for all Hermione knew. She kept the frenzied pure-blood away with a Protego, not yet daring to hurt her.
But the action drove the former Death Eater only more wild and with a yelled "Stupefy!" Hermione pointed her wand at the other woman's torso.
She had seen the older Bellatrix moving impossibly quick before. Which was why she misjudged the now young again woman even more severely.
The pure-blood side-stepped the bright blue spell, which fizzled past her and hit the wall, without ever breaking stride, not even stopping to revel in the younger witch's surprised gasp. Before Hermione knew what was happening, a painful blow slapped her only means of defense out of her grip. Yet instead of diving after the weapon, the other woman didn't even spare the wand a second glance.
The stinging hit to her cheek nearly had the brunette keel over from the force. Something tore open inside her mouth and she tasted the disgusting, metallic flavor of blood spreading across her tongue.
A kick to the shin had her howling; still reeling from the blow to the head she couldn't protect herself. A fist, maybe an elbow, slammed against her collarbone and pushed her back. Another hit to the leg. Hermione stumbled and fell backwards onto the carpeted floor, the cushioned ground doing little to ease the pain blossoming at the back of her skull.
Then Bellatrix was upon her like an incarnated fury and rained fisted blows onto her upper body. When the third hit forced her gaze to becoming blurry with tears and dizziness, the Gryffindor did the first thing jumping into her mind to escape the onslaught of hurt.
The pure-blood was bowed across her lying frame and shouting endless obscenities at the younger woman and never saw it coming when Hermione lurched up, wrapped her arms around the slender torso and arms of the former Death Eater and hugged her close to her own body. Trapped in this cage of flesh and bone, the older witch shouted and frenzied even harder, but the constant abuse Hermione had suffered at the other woman's hands turned her fear into strength and her grip into iron.
The young woman shivered in helpless panic at the murderous rage Bellatrix portrayed once again, who seemed so out of her mind that she was probably even ready to kill the other part of her Unbreakable Vow.
The pure-blood's screams, howls, of anger and frustration and madness wreaked havoc on Hermione's nerves, but she didn't let go. Bellatrix's voice nearly burst her eardrums, but she didn't let go. With her fists tugged too close to her own body to lash out, the dark witch used her nails to scratch at Hermione's ribs and kick her shins black and blue, but she still didn't let go.
And Bellatrix screamed on. Until her voice was hoarse and powerless tears ran down her fresh, young cheeks, her body shaking with despair and pitiful crying. Hermione could feel the wetness cling to her neck and collarbone, where the older woman had buried her forehead.
It was the exhausted calm after a storm, sapped of all its terrible, destructive energy.
"I will kill them," the eldest Black croaked out repeatedly, her shaky voice muffled by cloth and skin, "I will kill you. I will resurrect Sirius and make him hurt and then I kill him again and again and again. I hate you all, I hate you!" A weak fist pounded against Hermione's sore ribs.
"Shhh," the younger woman tried to hush the now calmer witch with each shuddering breath, "it's okay. It's okay." What else could she say? The situation was crazy. They were both far out of their comfort zones.
"I'm going... going to make them all hurt..." Bellatrix wailed and simply stopped all struggling by letting her whole body relax.
They stayed like that for a long while. Wordless. Unmoving. Breathing.
Until Hermione dimly realized she would be late to her Potions class. But her whole body ached and her head pounded like a dozen hammers on one anvil. The other witch's warm body was now almost soothing to her forming bruises, although the tight corset was digging a bit too harshly into her mangled skin.
But even Bellatrix slowly became aware of the close positioning and picked herself up with jerky movements. Once standing, she inelegantly wiped her face and nose with the back of her sleeve and, after a short look at the food on the table, grabbed the plate and wordlessly stalked back to her room. For once, she didn't slam the door.
What just happened? It took her a few seconds to snap back out of her daze and back to reality.
Hermione forced herself into an upright position and winced at the twinges and aches informing her of every well-placed hit along her abused flesh. Thankful for being back in Hogwarts and in position of a wand, the young woman crawled over to the wooden stick and healed the worst of her injuries, hiding the rest of them with a glamour. The remaining tears on her neck from the raven-haired woman seemed to burn stronger than any pain the older witch could have inflicted.
Then she hurried as quickly as possible to her class and managed to compensate the ten points taken from Gryffindor for her tardiness with thirty points gained for several correct answers in the first half hour.
Four hours later in Transfiguration she wondered suddenly when she had stopped shivering and hiding after receiving such treatments from the deranged, sadistic witch. Maybe she had finally won against herself. Maybe she had finally lost the deepest fear and weakness Bellatrix had instilled in her that day in Malfoy Manor.
Looks like you can really get used to anything.
I hope you all enjoyed your homework last time :D
In case you are like my friend and are going all "Oh, Hermione starts to like pain!" ZONK. No! No, that's not what I tried to tell here. Yes, she's numbing a bit to the abuse, but really, walking into a door isn't fun either, but after the fifth time you simply go 'Oh, fuck this' instead of running into it a sixth time because it's so great. She's starting to deal. Bellatrix won't change just because she feels prettier. But the time will come when Hermione is SO DONE with being pushed around and you will all be part of the transformation... but that still takes a bit time :)
(Maybe I should have made a drinking game at the beginning... drink every time Hermione cries or gets hurt and everytime Bellatrix is a brat/bitch. Boy, would you be drunk...) DeargodIneedsleep...