CARPE NOCTEM / COLD SKIN / CH. 14
The lock guarding the crummy door clicked, awakening a deep feeling of hopelessness inside Hermione's already dismayed body. She was stone frozen, her irises affixed to the marble face in front of her, incapable of taking in anything else.
The plan A, to disappear and casually join Draco and Astoria in the main salon, was, as anticipated, bound to succeed so she hadn't really bothered mastering an alternative strategy, which unfortunately came with quite a big price to pay.
It was barely an hour since the woman had dragged her outside, senselessly blasting spells at her, nearly making her faint from dread, and there they were again, locked inside this small room in the exact same situation.
Bellatrix's face gleamed with nothing short of pure hatred, paradoxically underlined by a disturbing smirk, a certain sign of a hell of a storm approaching.
"Tell me now," she began, "is it a mudblood custom to spy on private conversations which are absolutely no bloody business of yours?" she asked rhetorically, her eyes travelling over the ruined dress hanging on the girl's body.
Hermione adjusted the torn skirt, clearing her throat. Surely, she had had no right to be listening to anything the witch and her boy-toy, Crouch, were discussing, but having been stuck on the other side of the mirror, it wasn't like she'd had a choice anyway. Admitting to that, however, was a whole other story and she didn't really feel like selling herself out without a bit of fighting.
"I don't know what you mean," she ventured, trying to sound all calm and confident.
Wrong move.
Bellatrix's smirk disappeared, leaving her lips parted. "You have the audacity to lie to me?!" she hissed, prowling closer, making the girl automatically back away as if they were the same poles of the magnets, one forcing the other to repel.
The young witch held out her hands, trying to stop her from coming any closer. "I am not lying—I swear, I didn't hear anything!"
"Then what the hell were you doing here?!" Bellatrix barked, making her flinch. "Well?! I asked you something so you better answer me before I lose my patience!"
Barely breathing, Hermione remained silent, desperately trying to buy more time to think, but soon realised it was the worst idea she could act on because Bellatrix's forbearance was suddenly gone.
The woman's teeth clenched as she lunged forward, reaching inside her sleeve, clearly hunting for the wand. Gasping, the girl strived to distance herself from the witch, but that bloody dress of hers betrayed her for the third time in a row tonight. Her feet slipped, making her hit the floor painfully, the torn fabric of her skirt exposing her left leg.
Oblivious to any possible injuries, she tried to prop herself up on her elbows to crawl away from the danger but suddenly froze solid.
Her stomach twisted violently upon feeling a cold hand grasp her bare thigh, the sharp nails digging deeply into her skin and preventing her from moving. Hermione's throat let out a high-pitched sound, her eyes widening. This was the first time the witch had ever touched her and she certainly wasn't prepared for such an intimate encounter.
Bellatrix, though, wasn't shy to move even closer, positioning herself over the girl's body. She pressed her knee against Hermione's stomach, letting her shin rest in between her legs, drawing absolutely preposterous feelings from the brunette.
In sheer panic, Hermione's hands shot down towards her core but Bellatrix easily seized both of her wrists, pinning them above her head and bringing her face closer.
A sweet scent of vanilla whiskey hit the young witch's senses as the woman exhaled heavily, making her feel nauseous and shaky. She shut her eyes so tightly they started to hurt, but it was nothing compared to the nonsensical excitement burning deep inside her stomach, chasing the fear away without any effort.
"You're not going anywhere until you explain yourself!" Bellatrix's low voice wasn't helping, drawing a sob of frustration from the girl. "Oh, no crying, little muddy." She leant even closer, her breath hot against Hermione's cheek.
The young witch quickly moved her head aside, staunchly pressing her back into the floor, trying to create some distance between them.
"Pl-Please, let me go, I-I..." she cried, painfully aware of every little touch there was: the silky but ice-cold hands, one grasping her wrists, the other sewn into her thigh, and the leg—the leg pressing hard against her stomach.
She dug her heels into the dusty floor, lifting her bum to try and move a little higher, away from the agonising touch, but her shoe slipped, making her loins hit Bellatrix's leg hard, drawing another embarrassing whimper out of her throat.
"Nuh-uh, you had your chance, now we'll do it my way," Bellatrix whispered, removing her hand from Hermione's thigh, her nails fleetingly brushing the relieved skin, leaving only a trail of goosebumps behind. The knee, however, pressed deeper, making the young witch avert her attention and hiss from the pain. Her head jerked back, the eyes snapped open, locking with Bellatrix's, which were much closer than she ever remembered them to be.
She knew immediately what was going to happen. There was no time to close her mind, but she doubted her current state would allow her to compose herself enough to do so anyway. Her vision blurred, filling her mind with familiar déjà vu pictures.
She found herself back in Crouch's arms, dancing the waltz, before the memory changed into the one of her, Astoria, and Draco drinking the Malibu shots and laughing in the corridor. It was the following memory, though, that awakened resistance and her sleeping willpower—the sight of Crouch pressed against Bellatrix, making Hermione's heart crack with jealousy.
'NOO!'
The girl let out an erratic breath and snapped her eyes open to find Bellatrix's widened ones glaring back at her from above, her body no longer touching hers.
Hermione's cheeks acquired an insane carmine colour upon realising what had just happened.
She finally understood. It wasn't Crouch she fancied, it wasn't Bellatrix trapped under his body she was jealous of...
She felt like being sick.
'No no no no no! This cannot be! It's not that! Just no! Oh, Merlin! And she's seen it all. She knows before I could even...'
Immediately, she built up walls around her mind, but Bellatrix had already seen what she needed. "Well, muddy," was all that came from her lips before she burst out laughing, "you... "
Hermione quickly pulled the dress over her exposed legs, leaping to her feet, her cheeks burning. Tears of humiliation were streaming down her face but her trembling fingers were too slow to wipe them all away. Her ears were filled with the sound of her own blood, rushing like a wild river, perceiving the hysterical laughter as if coming from a far distance. She could still feel the ghost of the touch on her thigh, making her hands move on their own, angrily rubbing the memory away, but without any success.
"I want to leave," she gritted mechanically, not even recognising her own voice. It was weirdly blank, sotto-voce, coming from her dry throat, choked by all the pressure of feelings she had no time to inspect.
"Oh, don't you now, sweetie, when I know we've got something in common," Bellatrix implied, taming down her amusement.
The girl turned towards the witch, opening her mouth. She was kneeling on the floor with the tears of laughter still visible in her eyes. Her head was tilted and her lower lip, though smiling, trapped in between her teeth.
"There's no need to be ashamed of anything," Bellatrix went on, standing up, waving her hand to charm the dust away from her dress.
Hermione's body broke out in a sudden sweat, her world spinning. She did not know whether she was prepared to hear this. She wasn't even sure whether she was ready to fully acknowledge her own... her own what?
"I used to fancy that Crouch candy myself but don't worry, if you like him so much, I won't stay in the way," the dark witch chuckled, catching the girl off guard.
"Excuse me?"
"Don't play stupid," Bellatrix let out gruffly, "he is a handsome man, I can't really blame you," she added, eyeing the unnerved girl, who was trying to wordlessly figure out whether the woman was just messing with her or genuinely having no clue. She was finding it rather difficult to believe the witch wouldn't have noticed the obvious.
Oh! But what if...?
A sudden thought slipped into her mind.
In the Malfoys' library, there was a book, The Divine Occlumency, that explained how to deceive the opponent slyly when letting them inside your head. The trick was to make oneself believe something was true—and in Hermione's memory, she had been solid the feelings she had were aimed at the man. She had been in such a denial the real deal had been blocked somewhere deep inside her subconscious, so it was possible not even Bellatrix could see through the lie, let alone if she wasn't interested in this particular field.
Hermione swallowed painfully, now fully recognising the weird feeling of relief, mixed with disappointment and shame at the same time. It forced another wave of tears into her eyes.
"Please, I just want to go home," she whispered, wanting nothing else but to leave. To calm down, to reason out every single feeling in a normal, healthy way; but unfortunately, she couldn't, for Bellatrix had only begun to play.
"Don't be such a wimp!" The woman rolled her eyes but then lowered her voice conspiratorially. "We're both girls here, we can talk."
Oh, but Hermione didn't feel like talking. What she wanted was to get the hell out of here as soon as possible. Her entire body was too panic-stricken to feign composure, whereas her emotions were getting a claustrophobia on their own, threatening to burst out any moment.
"I can teach you what to do, at least he'd get some distraction and would stop running after me," the dark witch added, setting all the organs functioning inside Hermione's body on fire.
"I have no feelings for that man!" she lashed out, driven by her panic. "Besides, you've already seen I didn't witness anything unusual and even if I did, it's, as you said, none of my business and I do intend to keep things that way. There's no point in talking—" The words were coming out so fast she wasn't even sure whether they made sense at all. Her head was lowered, her eyes running all over the place. She was too ashamed to look at the woman, afraid the truth would scream out for itself.
Too caught up in the moment, she stood no chance of noticing a sudden movement that stopped her outburst immediately as Bellatrix's glacial hand grasped her elbow, making her meet the neverending blackness, deep as the universe itself.
The bag of butterflies inside her belly exploded with such a force her spine erupted in goosebumps under the sore tingling. Bellatrix's face was so close, so beautiful, almost glowing from triumph as she pushed the younger witch further into the door and leant in, bringing the sweet scent of vanilla back and making Hermione's knees weak again.
"Are you sure you want to use that tone with me?" she whispered, having the girl hypnotised by the way her blood-red lips touched and parted, slightly sticking together. "Because if I were you, I'd slightly reconsider," she tightened the grip on her arm, bringing the girl back to reality. "Or you too cannot learn your lesson?"
Hermione, all hazy, finally focused her attention on the words coming from those alluring lips and swallowed, incapable of getting a single word out of her mouth.
Tired of waiting for an answer, Bellatrix let go of her elbow, shaking her head. She backed away, looking the girl up and down with an expression that could be explained either as disgust or disbelief—or most probably, both of it combined.
"I don't understand," she started slowly, narrowing her eyes. "Why you from all the people had to—?" she hesitated, her chest heaving.
Hermione waited in anticipation, breathing so shallowly her body wasn't far from passing out. The dark witch, however, didn't say another word, leaving her trembling with the desire to know. She could practically feel the itching sensation running up and down her tongue, nudging her to ask, to prompt the woman to continue.
"Had to what?" she let out in a small voice, praying Bellatrix wouldn't flare up. They'd just achieved quite a neutral state—none of them were shouting, firing spells, or bruising each other's skin, and Hermione didn't want to mess that up with her stupid curiosity.
Her eyes, finally rid of all the tears, were watching the woman, anxiously awaiting her reaction. A small wrinkle formed on her forehead before relaxing, tremendously relieved at the sight of a smile taking place on Bellatrix's face.
The witch didn't look crossed and that was all Hermione cared for. She wasn't sure whether she'd be able to survive another attack if Bellatrix had found her question too intruding. Fortunately, the delightful expression didn't suggest a pre-fighting mode and Hermione would even smile back herself, hadn't it been for her stomach still upset from the violent pressure.
Bellatrix let her smile play before curling her lips downwards, disappointing the girl with a shallow answer, consisting of seven empty letters.
"It's not nothing!" Hermione blurted before she could stop herself. "Sorry..." She shook her head, closing her eyes.
There was a moment of embarrassing silence.
"Do you really want to know?" The young witch heard after a while, making her quickly glance back at the woman. Her head was tilted, the dark curls cascading over her shoulder.
Faintly nodding, Hermione couldn't tear her eyes from her. She was like a pendulum, making her hypnotised even without moving.
"I'll tell you a riddle and if you solve it, you'll know," Bellatrix spoke suddenly, giving her a quick eyebrow flash, pressing her plump lips together.
Excitement that had nothing to do with the woman in front of her spread through Hermione's whole being. An odd thought echoed through her mind. Wasn't she, herself, a little bit like Bellatrix, Jekyll-Hyding-like crazy? She could still feel the dried tears on her cheeks and here she stood, almost jumping at the opportunity to show off how smart she was.
It was weird how bipolar she became around the witch, how easily forgiving and ignorant she was about the things that had happened just moments ago. She was starting to fear Draco had been right about her before.
"Well? Do you want to hear it?" Bellatrix asked again, interrupting Hermione's thoughts, drawing another nod from her. Smiling, she licked her lips.
"The skin and bones, how essential for ye, mortals,
shall perish in dust of stones, bleeding from the portals.
Skin and bones, but not thy breath,
taken nor by wind, nor by earthly death.
Is the precious life all too empty
if I tell you there's not one but plenty?
Tempting thy to travel far,
beyond the ocean, beyond the space and time."
Bellatrix finished, watching the girl, whose determination radiated from every inch of her face.
"I'd say it's about the human soul and reincarnation." Hermione guessed, her voice a little raspy.
"My, my..." Bellatrix smirked, tilting her head.
"But what does it have to do with me?" Hermione asked, still pressed against the door without any movement.
"Nothing, because it's not about reincarnation," the woman drawled, playing with a loose curl of her hair.
Frowning, Hermione pushed out all the memories of the previous events, focusing only on getting the answer right. "Fine, if it's not the reincarnation, then it's probably about astral projection, but again, what...?"Hermione paused, the pieces slowly clicking into the right places.
She gave the woman a questioning look. Was this about those strange dreams her mind kept producing almost each and every night? The witch had seen them herself, so it would kind of make sense.
"Is," Hermione started carefully, thinking every word over, "is the answer somehow connected to my—to my dreams?" she asked after a while, feeling slightly uncomfortable.
The witch nodded, sending a wave of shock through Hermione's body.
"Do you know anything about them?"
"I do, actually," Bellatrix's lips curled into a devilish smile.
"Can you tell me?"