A/N: Here is the next installment of Turn Time, not been the best month so forgive my mysterious nature. I would like to thank all of you for your kind reviews. We're nearly on 200 favourites! How insane is that! As usual my personal thanks to those who reviewed is at the end of this chapter. I think this chapter has long been awaited as you will see and try not to hate me too much, I apparently like causing Hermione pain.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters and no money has been made from this.
So, before I put a message saying my grammar sucked only to re-read it and laugh at realising that my message about bad grammar had errors in it. So if my warning has a mistake in, you are only safe to assume so does my work.
Enjoy...
Revelations
Fingers tap a restless rhythm against a wooden table, the strokes powerful enough to cause the wood to splinter. The fire causes an unnatural hum as their shadows dance in the background like puppets from strings. Bored eyes stare out the window watching the flock of birds circle in the sky, settling down for the night. Her hand traces the thread sticking out from her robe; her nimble fingers beginning to toy with it.
A body fidgets in a chair causing a slight squeak, Hermione holds in her sigh as she waits for the meeting to continue. She throws an exasperated expression to the door Dumbledore used moments ago wondering when the meddling man will return. She ignores the hate pointed at her, ignores the kind gaze examining her and hopes to be free from the suffocating room very soon.
Another shuffle, this time its feet, grazing the worn carpet, a quick glance informs Hermione she is still the centre of disgust from Mrs Rothstein. Long nails curl around a tumbler before plucking it from the table and guiding it to ruby red lips. She wipes the smear of makeup away with a slim thumb, before returning the tumbler once again to the table.
A slight cough escapes Professor McGonagall as she clears her throat, the muffed noise so loud in the stifling room. Small talk long forgotten they sit in the dull of the conversation waiting for the man with answers to return. I wonder if he gets a sick feeling, knowing people's lives are paused because of him. Hermione tries not to dwell on the question circling her mind, tries to ignore the slight fear and distrust she has developed for Harry's role model. She has no reason not to trust the man, if anything he has tried to make sure she lives a safe existence. He still sent Harry to his death like a turkey born for Christmas. A yawn escapes her as boredom slowly replaces her initial adrenaline at learning she had to meet her 'parents'.
Leaning back in her chair, she finally lets the long awaited sigh out. Knows her Professor is sending her a look of displeasure at her obvious display of challenging behaviour. She purposely sat herself furthest from the Rothstein's not trusting them even in the audience of her Professor's. Looking towards the fire, she wonders when the meeting will end.
The door opens as Dumbledore once again emerges into the room; he sends a reassuring smile to everyone before moving to his chair… throne. Slowly lowering himself down, he lifts his cup of tea from the table and peers over the top of his glasses at the Rothstein's. Straightening in her chair, Hermione turns her attention back to the other occupants. She waits for Dumbledore to start his questions, yet he sits quietly sipping his tea. Raising an eyebrow at the man, she wonders just how long the room will remain in silence.
"I'm sure you were able to resolve the problem that so urgently required your attention?" Mrs Rothstein words drips with acid, burning the very air they all breathe.
"Quite. A simple miss understanding." Dumbledore replies cheerfully, ignoring the hostility of the Rothstein's.
"So we can continue, without further interruption I presume."
"Of course." Dumbledore nods, receiving a nod of approval from Mrs Rothstein. "However we are a school, I'm sure you must understand a Headmaster has many responsibilities to attend to."
Hermione watches as Mrs Rothstein swallows her words before tilting her head in acceptance. "Obviously." She manages a grimace. "Now shall we return to the business at hand?"
Gesturing for her to continue with his hand, Dumbledore shuffles back in his chair slightly disrupting Mrs Rothstein's train of thought. He shuffles, his robes rustling until he finds a comfortable position and settling. Mixing his tea with his spoon, causing a slight chinking sound, he slowly places the spoon on his saucer not noticing or simply not caring about the look of disgust he receives from Mrs Rothstein.
"Very well," She pronounces, her voice ringing in its natural cold tone. "Miss Granger, as you are aware our real daughter has recently escaped Azkaban."
"I heard," Hermione, replies vaguely.
"I'm sure, we have also been informed by Dumbledore that you have no knowledge of this and she has not attempted to contact you." Feeling as though the police are interrogating her, Hermione tries not to let herself rise in anger at Mrs Rothstein's questioning. She knows if she plays too much emotion, it will look suspicious.
"I knew of your daughter's disappearance through reading the paper, as I have said a hundred times. Why would she even risk coming to Hogwarts to meet me?" Hermione questions, trying to keep her mind clear in case anyone decided to take a look.
"That is why we are asking, I can assure you, we are only concerned for the safety of our daughter."
"Well I have yet to have the pleasure of meeting Mia Rothstein." Hermione tries to keep the sarcasm from her words, but fears she was not as successful as she hoped.
It felt strange to refer to Mia Rothstein by her name, as though she were referring to herself in third person. I feel like I am becoming Mia Rothstein. I need an escape; I am falling too far into this fictional character. Ignoring her thoughts and the glaring witch, she plans a way to escape the school even if it is just a couple of hours. She needed to find somewhere, where she could be Hermione Granger once more.
"There were Dementors on the school grounds." Mrs Rothstein reasons. "Explain to me the coincidence of them being here at the same time of my daughters escape."
"The same coincidence as you turning up while Dumbledore was away, I'm sure." Is Hermione's sharp reply.
She feels McGonagall bristle next to her, the slight tension in the older woman's frame. Watches as both Rothstein's clench their jaw, the long nails of Mrs Rothstein digging into the unsuspecting chair. A twitch of an eyebrow is Dumbledore's only acknowledgment of the comment.
"Did my daughter visit you the other night?" Mr Rothstein demands.
Hermione notices the worry in the man's eyes and feels guilty at not being able to relieve his worry by telling the truth. Mia did not want them to know for a reason.
"No." Is the simple answer.
"Miss Granger has answered your question. Miss Rothstein was not on the grounds and has made no attempt at contacting Hermione." Professor McGonagall interrupts before Mrs Rothstein could start again.
"I don't believe her. We are trying to find my daughter, unless it has escaped your notice, this girl knows something and I demand to know what!" Mrs Rothstein hisses her nails puncturing the chair.
"Miss Granger has told you everything." Dumbledore concludes placing his cup on the table before interlocking his fingers.
"I can see the lies in her eyes. Search her mind, she has something hidden there." Mrs Rothstein insists staring Hermione in the eye.
"The only thing hidden in my mind is information than can shatter the world." Replies Hermione darkly, her eyes flashing dangerously at the witch.
"A chance I'm willing to take. Shut the doors to any relevant information that may cause harm and show us the night we are looking for." Mr Rothstein reasons, raising an eyebrow at Hermione.
"Unfortunately knowing what may be relevant and what may not is not so simple." Dumbledore ways in. "The information contained in Miss Granger's mind is not to be seen, doing so may have untold effects on the world. What you may see as irrelevant could be a crucial point in history; it is not a matter of closing door as it a matter of not knowing which door to close."
"Regardless of what you say Dumbledore this little wrench is lying and I demand to know what it is she is hiding."
"Mrs Rothstein, Hermione is not concealing anything regarding your daughter." McGonagall insists.
"No she's right," Hermione interrupts earning surprised glances from her Professor's and a satisfied knowing look from the Rothstein's. "I am hiding something. Do you wish to know what happened on the night you so ardently insist your daughter walked into Hogwarts?"
"I told you Dumbledore, the girl was lying."
"Not lying Mrs Rothstein, merely protecting a friend."
"So you have met my daughter! Where is she?"
Shaking her head at the bombardment of questions, she stares Mrs Rothstein in the eyes. "It was not your daughter I was with that night. I was with Bellatrix, we had a disagreement and I woke up in the hospital wing, only to learn the rumours of an escaped convict and Dementors haunting the castle. If your daughter happened to be on the grounds that night, I did not encounter her. I'm sure the school records will show my visit in hospital, and Bellatrix will vouch she was responsible for my stay, she has yet to let me live it down." Hermione sends both Rothstein's' a fleeting calculated smile, leaving them to wonder if they actually saw one to begin with.
"It is true; Hermione spent the night in a hospital ward." Professor McGonagall confirms, "She was found early hours in the morning by Professor Slughorn." She sends Hermione a look that suggests she still is not happy about the betrayal of trust.
"I thought I made it clear for you not to lose to any of the Black sisters?" Mrs Rothstein voice is like steel cutting through meat, but surprisingly has little effect on Hermione.
"She cheated." Hermione answers simply. "Up to that point we were evenly matched."
Looking mortified at Hermione, Mrs Rothstein turns her attention to McGonagall. "And what was done about this shambles?"
"Both ladies served detention." McGonagall replies with just as much dislike in her voice, her eyes narrowing on Mrs Rothstein.
"What sort of school lets their students duel in the dead of night?" Mr Rothstein questions.
"I'm sure you can understand we have two exceptional students, it is perhaps in their best nature to work out any misunderstandings between them. To my knowledge, both Miss Granger and Miss Black have sorted their differences." Dumbledore reassures the visibly displeased parents.
Noticing she is once again centre of attention, Hermione nods in agreement with Dumbledore. "As you can see, they were able to sort out their differences without the aid of us." Dumbledore smiles.
Feeling as though the Rothstein's were her real parents and scolding her, Hermione decides she wants to leave the room as quickly as possible. This is getting strange. Her mind whispers and she cannot help but agree. Being the centre of attention never suited Hermione and she was eager to escape to the depths of the castle where most students knew to leave her be.
"You have your answers may I now be excused?" Hermione asks as nicely as possible.
"I think we are finished here don't you Albus?" McGonagall too wished to escape the prison of the room and the parents inhabiting it.
"I see no reason to continue you may be excused Miss Granger." Dumbledore confirms.
Standing in one quick motion, Hermione cannot wait to escape the room. "There is one other matter however," The cold voice of Mrs Rothstein stops Hermione's great escape.
"Which is?" Comes the weary tone of Professor McGonagall.
"The annual Christmas ball." Mrs Rothstein says, her lips curling into a smile.
With a depressed sigh, Hermione falls back into her chair; she had hoped neither the Rothstein's would mention the word ball. She sees the slight rise of Professor McGonagall's eyebrows, watches the disapproving gaze of Dumbledore's slip to both Rothstein's before glancing towards Hermione.
"Every year it is customary for the Rothstein's to throw a ball, as you are no doubt aware. Any break in tradition is to bring on questions, which none of us truly want, I'm sure."
"What is it you are trying to say Mrs Rothstein?" McGonagall queries, an edge of warning slipping into her tone.
"Our daughter is expected to attend." Hating the cruel smile on the witch's face, Hermione is quick to argue.
"There is no way I am attending your ball, I won't pass as your daughter to those who have known your family for a long time."
"Obviously, I see few options, you can either take Polyjuice potion to look like my daughter, or something else must be organised."
"Why can't I stay at Hogwarts?"
"Because it is not fitting of a pureblood to escape their duties. Even with Polyjuice potion, it is still questionable whether you can pull of being my daughter." Is the snide remark.
"I'm not attending your stupid ball." Is Hermione's petulant reply, she wins in getting a rise out of the witch opposite her.
"These are not stupid balls, you are playing my daughter, and you have a reputation to uphold. Too many questions will be asked by your lack of attendance."
"Say I'm studying at Hogwarts!" Hermione reasons.
"Mia loves balls, it is one of the many things she genuinely enjoyed, and it would be suspicious if she chose to stay at school, especially since she was not much of a school fan." Hermione could hear the slight pride in Mr Rothstein's voice, true genuine affection for his daughter.
"Hermione will not attend your ball; there is too much danger to be caused if she does." Professor McGonagall states.
"Too many questions will be asked by her lack of attendance. I do not see what choice we really have."
They fall into silence, neither Professor willing to let Hermione visit the Rothstein's, but also aware of the consequences if she did not attend. I cannot go to their ball; Mrs Rothstein will torture me for information on Mia. Hermione watches the calculating eyes, feels like prey caught in a trap.
"I could always attend the Black's ball." Hermione says hesitantly.
"You need an invitation by Druella to attend such a ball." Mrs Rothstein replies disregarding the idea completely.
"I have one." Hermione smirks, earning a surprise look from all in the room. "She invited me the other day; I said I would speak to my 'parents'."
Truth be told, Hermione did not want to attend any ball, she wanted to stay away from a group of purebloods as much as possible. However, if she were to attend a ball she would rather attend one where she at least had a chance of knowing the other people and without a language barrier. In addition, she also had Andy and even Bellatrix as backup for the event.
"You would rather attend a Black's ball than my own?" Mrs Rothstein repeats the phrase in her head astounded that someone would not want to attend her ball.
"I can't speak German, at least with the Black's I know some people."
"I think if Hermione is to attend a ball, the Black's ball will be best." Professor McGonagall agrees, sharing a look with Dumbledore.
"You mean to tell me you've been acting as my daughter and not once thought to learn our language?" Anger rattles each breath Mrs Rothstein takes.
"I have no use to learn German."
"You are acting as a Rothstein, suppose someone calls you out on it, scaring someone once is fine but hiding behind a disguise will only work a few times."
"It's working fine for me. We have a saying from where I come from - if it's not broke, don't fix it."
"People are only secretive when they have secrets." A crooked smile appears on the thin lips of the witch opposite her.
"I'm not learning German," Hermione sighs. "And if I have to go to any ball it will be the Black's."
"Can you dance?"
"Of course, the question should be will I?" Hermione smirks at the twitch of the woman's lips, the anger evidently present. "I think we're done here. Now can I go?"
Amused, Dumbledore nods his head in acceptance. "Send your acceptance to Mrs Black agreeing to the ball this will be all on the matter for now."
Hermione nods in agreement, planning to pass the message on to Andy first thing the morning. Gliding to her feet, she spares both her professor's a quick look before exiting, she has no interest in staying any longer in the presence of the Rothstein's. She wants to go to her room, curl into her bed and try to forget the evening. Slipping from the room, she hears the soft voices continue before they fade away as she moves further down the corridor.
The candles flicker in the hall, making eerie shapes as she moves quietly. It is when she passes the bathroom does she hear the soft fall of feet. Feeling for her wand, she turns to greet the newcomer, her insight warning her to be alert. Her mouthparts, to allow a greeting, when a light blinds her. Head spinning, her back connects with something. She crashes to the floor, the wind knocked out of her. Breathless, she scrambles for her wand, her feet slipping on the floor. Glancing back, she sees the remains of a destroyed sink, water spilling out around her. Lifting her now soaked body, she crawls for her wand, when a hand winds into her hair, tugging her to her feet.
Gasping someone slams her into a mirror as she meets the eyes of her assailant. The dark eyes of Mrs Rothstein glare down at her and she struggles to free herself.
"You should have studied the book I gave you." Mrs Rothstein hisses, pushing her further into the mirror.
"I did." Hermione growls, trying to dislodge the woman, but only succeeding in pressing further into the glass.
"Not very well, I warned you what would happen should you fail to do as I say. Do you honestly believe that, Dumbledore can protect you? We still manage to enter Hogwarts; we can still get to you. Dumbledore has no intention of protecting you."
"What do you want?" Hermione demands, gritting her teeth at the glass digging into her back.
"Just to remind you what would happen if you disobey me."
"Funny enough, I remember quite well."
"It is one thing to attend the ball of a Black it is quite another to be beaten by one. You have brought shame on our family and you will suffer accordingly."
"Your family not mine."
"Your family too until you no longer have a purpose, shall I remind you once again why we purebloods are greater than mud." She hisses her wand threateningly tracing Hermione's cheek.
"Give my wand and I will make you eat your words." Hermione growls.
A shallow laugh echoes from the older witch's mouth. Bring the wand down; she traces the charm on Hermione's arm, revealing the slur written there. Mudblood. The scar prickles under the tip of the witch's wand. Expecting a curse, she watches in surprise as the wand moves to her other arm.
"What are you doing?" Hermione questions' watching her warily, as the witch tugs her sleeve up her arm exposing it to the air.
"The other reason to our visit, although not discussed with you is Dumbledore asked for our advice on your situation. What you don't know is that my family helped invent the time turners, such a long time ago. None the less, I inherited the knowledge like those before me. You cannot imagine my excitement at learning not only is it possible to go so far back that you bypass your own birth, but also the world did not implode as you did so. I cannot speak of your future for all we know you may have destroyed your chance of ever being born, as of now though – you seem to be relatively healthy."
The walnut wand presses against the flesh, mesmerized Hermione studies the movement. Both witches cast under some sort of spell of furthering their knowledge. Mrs Rothstein's lips move, as she silently casts a spell, the tip of her wand illuminating her face. A warning signal explodes in Hermione's head, telling her to break free, pull her arm away. She knows this will end with pain, nothing the dark witch does is for Hermione's benefit, yet she cannot bring herself to stop the witch.
Too lost in search of information does she forget she isn't immortal. Her eyebrows raise in surprise and wariness, as her veins begin to glow an amber colour. The sands of the Time Turner, flowing through her veins. Her arm glows, and then abruptly stops as the older witch pulls away.
"As I thought, the time turner is mingling with your blood."
"What does that mean?" Hermione asks studying her arm for answers.
"Nothing as of yet, unfortunately there has never been a case like this until now. You are effectively patient zero."
"Is this all some kind of sick test to you and Dumbledore keep me under surveillance until you know what this is?"
"Don't think so highly of yourself, as soon as we have a way to get rid of you, by either sending you back to your own time or more preferred means, you are merely an interesting specimen. Dumbledore has his own reasons, I'm sure he has some misguided idea of saving you, I however believe you are doomed."
"You think I won't return to my own time?" Hermione questions, trying not to dwell on the thought this witch wants her dead.
"You may return but you won't be the same witch." Mrs Rothstein smirks at the confusion on the young witch's face. "What besides the obvious is the main reason time travel is restricted."
"You could end up killing yourself."
"Yes a drawback I suppose, none the less, it is not the reason I was after. The reason time travel is so restricted is because it does untold things to someone's mind. Although you may be mud, you still have a mind, and such a disturbance in your life, in your time zone will have untold affects to you."
"I won't be the same person?"
"We won't know until you return to your own time. We cannot judge you here because we don't know what you were like back then, only there will you truly know what the effects of time are."
"Patient Zero. Let me go." Hermione demands, shoving the witch away.
A cruel smile reappears on the witch's face; Hermione swallows before diving for her wand, anything to defend herself from this witch begging for her blood.
~~~~~Turn Time~~~~~
Bellatrix Black, despite appearance, despite the angry eyes and haunting smile, was happy. Happy in persuading her sister to swap prefect duty with her, as most students knew when Bellatrix was on duty and made it their mission to avoid sneaking out on her nights. When she devised such a devious plan, it left all confused.
She asked Andy to swap, with Crab, who swapped with Leath who swapped with Andy who swapped with Malfoy, who swapped with Bellatrix who swapped with Andy. The swapping of shifts would surely confuse any unsuspecting victim and leave Bellatrix with freedom to prowl. She spent most her night dealing with quite a few misfits, who were far more scared of her than being uncovered at sneaking around.
Her favourite was the Ravenclaw who she found sneaking into the forbidden section of the library, only to go running in search of a Professor at the sight of Bellatrix grinning. You have to be a rule breaker to catch one. I would make a good auror. She laughs to herself at knowing, she would never pass the test for Auror.
"Who am I kidding; I don't have the patience for such things." Despite the fact, her father would clearly disown her.
To say the least, Bellatrix's mood was sky high; she had spent the previous night with the Dark Lord who she impressed with her current skill. Yes, Bellatrix's life was finally looking up; she also had the ability to look forward to seeing Mia first thing in the morning. She hoped she could grab her before they went for breakfast; she wanted to see the girl. Had an urge just to be in her presence, to a point she thought about sneaking into Ravenclaw and waiting for her to finish with her talk with her parents.
Bellatrix thought it odd that, Mia's parents were in the castle, why she could not send them a letter she did not know. Andromeda tried her best to explain it was something to do with different cultures, but Bellatrix paid no heed.
Noise on the third floor drew her attention, skipping up the stairs, she noticed the flashes of light, knew she was about to catch someone doing magic when they shouldn't be. Walking the last few steps to the door with her wand ready, she anticipated the look of horror, could not wait to see it. Stepping into the doorway, she stops – in shock.
There is no look of horror, on the face of a student, only two faces of hate, both drawn to the new prey in the doorway. Her confusion must have shown as Mia's face falls from hate into some sort of pity. The bathroom stands in ruins, taps leak, water pours and both witch's stand drenched in water and sweat. Mia looks worse off than Mrs Rothstein does, but is still standing.
"What…" Bellatrix stutters too boggled to formulate any thoughts.
The distraction is enough to cause Mia to lose the game. A spell crashes into her knocking the witch backwards into the stand, a sharp gasp escaping her lips as her head cracks against the hinge of a stall. Bellatrix cringes and points her wand at the older witch her eyes alight with fire.
"Put your wand away," Mrs Rothstein hisses, observing Hermione struggling to concentrate and reaching for her wand. "We're done here Black."
"I'm going to kill you." Hermione threatens, her voice deep and lifeless, like a vow offered to the night, she keeps her eyes solely trained on Mrs Rothstein.
Bellatrix visibly flinches at the hatred in the girl's eyes, so much hatred burning just below the surface.
"Keep reading the book I gave you, it will help you improve. Remember what we discussed tonight Mia," The voice is jolly, out of place for a room in the aftermath of destruction. Heels click as the witch makes for the exit. "Oh before I forget, enjoy the ball."
Receiving a small smile from the older witch Bellatrix, watches Mrs Rothstein leave before taking a step into the room. A spell begins to repair all the broken fixings, as Mrs Rothstein removes any evidence of a fight. Shivering at the cold atmosphere, Bellatrix scoops, Hermione's wand from the floor, before scooting over to the witch. Kneeling, she runs her hands through the soaking wet hair. Hermione flinches under the touch, gently, her hand rests on the square of Hermione's back.
Ignoring another flinch, Bellatrix helps by healing any injuries she can see. It takes a few minutes of muscles knotting themselves back together before; Hermione has enough strength to push the helping hand away. Hurt, Bellatrix lays the wand in the outstretched hand. Spluttering, Hermione cradles her wand to her abdomen as she struggles to her feet. This was the second time that Mrs Rothstein beat her, the second time the witch walked over her. The second time she waltzed into Hogwarts and beat her down as though she were nothing.
A gentle hand takes her left arm in hers and pulls her to her feet. Closing her eyelids, Hermione tries to calm the hate running through her veins as she feels tears threaten spill. Hogwarts is meant to be safe. Dumbledore promised her safety instead he sits a few doors away unaware or not caring what was happening to her. A tear escapes a slight crack in her shield, anything else will bring her crumbling down, destroying everything she built. She wishes Bellatrix had not found her, wishes anyone but her, she does not want to be weak, not now, not ever.
A gasp rings out, such a strange sound that Hermione cannot help but open her eyes. She expects to see a student in the doorway, someone who made the sound except it is just Bellatrix and her. Looking to the witch, she finds herself the object of fascination and hate. Confused she wonders if showing her weakness meant Bellatrix would no longer be her friend. A sharp pain in her arm makes her look down, she sees the nails of Bellatrix digging in, sees the slight puncture marks, but that's not what makes her heart stop.
Eyes wide, she yanks her arm away. Her eyes meet the Black eyes of her future torturer. Not only did she let her shield crack, her defences were down. A wand presses to her jugular and she knows there is only going to be one of them leaving this room tonight. The doors slam shut, bolting them in.
The moon illuminates the visible slur on her arm as a hand pulls the arm out into full view. The wand an ever-pressing reminder of the threat lurking.
"What the hell is this?" Bellatrix growls, her fingers tightening.
"Bellatrix, I can explain." Hermione whispers, her eyes darting from her arm to the witch.
"Explain! Why the fuck do you have Mudblood written on your arm!"
"If you let me explain." Hermione reasons, stroking her thumb across the exposed flesh on Bellatrix's arm.
"Mudblood…"
Girl to girl…
Endless screams…
Pain…
Branded forever…
MUDBLOOD...
"Bella…"
"What are you?" Bellatrix demands pushing the offending arm away and causing Hermione to stumble back into stall behind her.
"What the fuck are you…" Staring down the Dragon Heartstring wand pointing at her - Hermione swallows. "Filth..."
A/N:
A big thank you to all those who take the time to review and to those authors out their who take the time to write.
A thank you to xboxqueen, brittana daydreamers, guest, fireman12468 for your kind reviews.
sarronxo: Oh stop #blushes#. Although I may never truly cease your hunger for this story I shall try to make you crave it more instead. Hopefully this chapter leaves you wanting more!
white-walker89: You may get happy when you receive a chapter i get giddy and chidlish when I receive reviews, so thank you, yes indeed keep an eye out for Cissy it seems, Hermione likes to make enemies.
snapesbloodredneko: does this chapter help to answer your question? Bellatrix didn't react well. I hope you enjoyed it.
chrisdenvl: Alas I have not abandoned this story merely busy, poor excuse I know but the best i can give. I'm happy you enjoyed the last chapter, I had feeling you would enjoy the Narcissa bashing. I find it very alarming you manage to foretell parts of my story! Do you practice Legilimency, it feels as though you can see my future plans. Although I can't see her joining Voldemort she may in fact fall deeper than voldemort into the land of darkness! Or perhaps someone saves her? Who is to know. I will say you will surely like Hermione's reaction in the next chapter, so I will leave you wanting more. Thank you for your kind review and please stop reading my mind. :D
Greyella: Yes, I have a feeling when I write sometimes that you will pick something out. I sometimes feel as though I intentionally put them in just in hopes you will find them. Snakes never truly know when to quit and it seems, Cissa still holds a grudge even in Hermione's present time. (Am i giving things away?) I thank you for your kind review.
LoveSKINS94: I hope I didn't keep you waiting long! Thank you for the review.
To any of those I missed, thank you for reviewing, to those who read my comments and thought hey why wasn't my name first? I answered in the order first come first served. Till next time...