A/N: Love to reviewers and Countess Black.

The reference to greyhounds straining their slips in Henry V, by Shakespeare. Also, Wizarding parents are as embarassing as the muggle kind, apparently.

Dinner was over, and Bellatrix was taking a hot bath, lying back in the tub and letting the elf massage the tension from her scalp and shoulders with it's long, thin fingers.

She rose and let herself be wrapped in a towel, and stepped into her nightgown and slippers, water dripping from her curls. Rodolphus was in bed already, naked to the waist, and Bellatrix, feeling the stress of the day, resolved she would hex him at some indeterminate point in time.

He snorted when told about this. 'Trixie, you've been vowing to hex me for how many years?'

'Hardly the point, Rodolphus. It was your idea that they should all stay here.'

He set down the paper and raised a brow. 'Shall I make it up to you, dear heart?'

'Not right now. I want to read a chapter in my book and then-' she didn't finish that sentence for some time, as downstairs, one wall erupted into flames. The house shook, Bellatrix screamed, and Rodolphus leapt up and flung himself over his wife to protect her.

Underneath him, she scrabbled like a rat. 'HERMIONE!' He stood, and still shielding her, they took off for their daughter's rooms. The door was open, but the girl was not there.

'THE ELF'S GOT HER! WE NEED TO GO!' He grabbed her even as she clawed him and they Apparated onto the lawn. A second later, they were being pummelled by a little girl in a sooty nightgown and the elf, who was sobbing with relief.

'Mother? What's happened?'

Rodolphus bent and hugged his wife and daughter. 'All right, shh, shh.' From behind them, the elves battled the flames that were trying to engulf the west wing, and others were appearing, all clad or semi-clad in bed clothes as though they'd decided to have a sleep over on the lawn.

'Trixie?'

'Cissy, thank God! Is your son all right?' Bellatrix and Hermione pounced Narcissa and the women clung to one another. 'Yes, he's fine, they're both fine.'

Hermione suddenly gasped. 'Where's Aunt Cunegarde? And Barty?'

With a great cracking, the windows of the wing burst, and everyone dropped, Bellatrix covering Hermione from the red hot shards. Hermione wriggled. 'Mother, where's Barty and Aunt?' Over the flames, there came a terrible din, and the sounds of spells and screams.

'There they are!' Bellatrix leapt up, hand on her wand, and ran towards the noise of battle, yelling for Hermione to stay. Hermione stood and Viktor was there, along with a paler than usual Draco.

'Vhat happens?'

An elf appeared, screeching in horror. 'Madam is saying will not come. Is wanting to stay!'

'We need to get her! Take us!' Linky grabbed Draco and Rinky took Hermione and Viktor, their terror of the danger overcome by a direct order. The house was mad with colour and light, like a malign party, but there were no flames yet, not in the west wing where the family lived.

'Draco, get Cunegard! Viktor, this way!'

Draco ran for the old woman. 'Aunt, we need to go!' The old woman was cowering against a wall. Draco could see he had perhaps thirty seconds to make this happen, and begging forgiveness from the ancestors from his impiety, grabbed the old woman's arm.

'Elf, take us now!'

Cunegarde flailed. 'No! I'll die here! That madman took my wand! You leave me alone!'

'Elf, now!' The elf was powerless against a direct order and grabbed both humans by the collar, Apparating them outside and onto the cold, damp ground. Draco pulled from the elf's grasp. 'Defend your mistress, elf!' Then he sprinted toward the house, knowing he had to help Hermione.

Barty was gone. 'We can't leave him! He'll die!'

There was the sound of running from above them. 'The owlery!' She ran after, nightgown flapping, and Viktor ran too. He could sprint faster than any other boy in his year, and he overtook her, pulling her along.

The owlery was full of panicked birds, flapping and hooting. Hermione flung open and shutters and the birds took wing, leaving behind a trail of feathers. She whirled, eyes darting, until she saw the figure near the ledge. 'Barty, no!'

Barty turned, giggling. 'Isn't it beautiful?' His arm swished sinuously, and a green glow suffused the sky above them. Rinky, as terrified as the owls, grabbed Hermione's arms. 'Miss is going now!'

'Take Barty and Viktor!'

'No, you go!' Viktor grabbed his intended and thrust her toward the elf. 'Elf take!'

'No, Barty first!'

Barty solved the problem for them, as it happened. When they turned back, he'd clamoured onto the ledge, too far to be reached. He crouched on his heels, laughing. Far below, Draco screamed at the figures, demanding they come down. 'I'm telling Father if you don't!' It was the ultimate threat, and in his panic, it was all he could think of.

The elf made a choice. Grabbing Hermione and Viktor, he Apparated them, and set them on the lawn, next to the sobbing Cunegarde and furious, shaking Draco.

'We need to get Barty!'

'Elf! Broom!' Viktor was, after all, one of the greatest Seekers in the world. The elf grabbed one from the shed, leftover from Rodolphus or Rabastan, and Viktor mounted it.

He kicked up and flew to the ledge. 'Barty, you come!'

Barty shook his head. 'No. I'll wait here a while.'

'No! You come!'

Hermione could see flames starting to lick up the sides of the tower. Most of the west wing was on fire now, and she could see people streaming toward them. 'Rinky, take me to Barty, hurry!'

Next thing she knew, her feet were gripping the edge, tight to the wall. 'Rinky, get Barty! Go!'

Viktor pulled tight to the side of the building. He opened his arms and Hermione climbed onto the broom, cold sweat rolling down her back. He slammed his other arm in place and, making sure he had her snugly, took them down, wind rushing by their faces, and took them down like stones as the fire took the tower's base, sending them hurtling toward the ground and then up and away from the hungry flames.

Draco was almost beside himself. He half pulled his cousin from the broom and threw both arms about her, sobbing threats about telling Lucius and Rodolphus and whomever else.

'Draco, we're fine! I promise, we're fine!'

'You're NOT fine!' He cried harder and then pushed her back gently, spinning on Viktor. He raised a little fist and pounded the older boy hard in the stomach, which felt like a gentle poke.

Hermione stepped in between them. 'Draco, stop it! I'll tell your mother you scared me.' Draco dropped his fist, which hurt from hitting Krum, and then turned as adult feet pounded closer.

'Here they are! Draco, are you all right?' Draco turned and leapt onto his father, sobbing incoherently. Lucius put both arms about him, hugging him close, rubbing his back.

'Shh, shh.' Viktor turned as his mother's plump, dressing robed form came upon them. 'Viktor!'

'Mother!' She opened her arms and Viktor stepped into the embrace, feeling her tears on the back of his neck. Zhivka's heart was pounding like a mouse's, her hands gripping her only child.

'I thought we'd lost you!'

'No, Mother, we're fine. Hermione and Draco and I are fine.'

Zhivka didn't let go. 'My baby! My baby!'

Bellatrix, blood streaked, burst through the small screen of hedges and nearly mauled her daughter. 'DON'T EVER SCARE ME LIKE THAT AGAIN!'

Hermione buried her face in her mother's neck. 'Mother! We're safe, Mother.'

'Not as soon as I get my hands on the three of you, you aren't! I ought to tan all you! How dare you risk yourselves like that!'

Hermione didn't mind. This was just Mother, who was fierce in all things, and especially with what she valued. 'Mother, it's all over.'

The others were coming, Martin and Rodolphus leading them. There was embraces, parental threats and reassurances, and even Cunegarde toddled over to scold them all in a quavery voice.

'And then this boy grabbed me! I told him to leave me and he refused, refused!'

'Draco, did you do that?' Draco, who was still holding onto his father, all pretence of being a big boy temporarily gone, nodded. His adrenaline rush was fading, and he was feeling weirdly drowsy.

Barty was rigid, staring at the sky, lying on his back. Malfoy passed Draco onto his wife and went to get the madman off the grass. He tugged the man up, taking the wand from his limp fingers. The Mark above them was staring down with blank, snake kissed eyes.

'Barty? Did you do that?'

'It's so beautiful. Isn't it, Lucius? Isn't it?'

Not as beautiful as the children your little game nearly killed, thought Lucius, seething, but he said nothing. He pulled Crouch to his feet and steered him toward the others, handing the wand off to Cunegarde's elf.

Bellatrix was torn between anger and the terrible relief of knowing her child was well. She'd stop screaming but was still muttering promises of terrible violence if Hermione should ever do a thing like this again. Hermione was quiet, holding her mother's hand for comfort.

The group spilt across the grounds in rough family groups, Rodolphus toting his aunt, Barty trailing them. He was humming to himself, eyes still fixed on the sky.

The west wing as gone. The east, where the family lived, was scorched but otherwise intact, and most of the heirlooms had been fire-charmed, and so were charred but not destroyed.

Scabior ran toward them, teeth bright in his soot stained face. 'Boss! Ah, thank God yer a'wright!' He stopped, clutching his side, and looked a half second from embracing one or all of them.

'We gots five a them. Romanians, I thinks. Mr. Yaxley's takin em to the Ministry.'

'Excellent, Scabior.' Scabior reached into his pocket and stroked Chum, who was shaking like a little leaf.

The flapping black form of Severus Snape was stomping toward them. 'What's happened?'

Rodolphus intercepted him before Bellatrix could. 'We aren't sure. Where shall we go?'

'Grimmauld Place. We'll take everyone there.'

The carriages were trundled out and packed with people. Miraculously, no one had been killed, though Cunegarde was bruised from hitting the ground and Hermione's feet were burnt. Viktor had pulled several muscles and Draco's skin was scratched from the old woman's nails.

Being as the parents couldn't stand to be separated from their children, the mothers went with them in the Krums' carriage, which was thickly padded against the chill.

Viktor passed out wolfskin lap robes and each little group split in on itself to recount what had happened.

'And Father is coming, Mother?'

'As soon as he can, darling. We'll all spend the night.' Draco wanted nothing more than his own bed, but he knew he had to protect the ladies and so said nothing.

'It really wasn't as dangerous as it seemed, Mother.'

Zhivka gave her son a look. 'Viktor, I know you better than that.'

He looked at his hands, ears red. 'Well, it didn't seem that way at the time.'

'Your father and I would be devastated if something happened to you, little bear.' She used his baby name, and Viktor was grateful Hermione was distracted, because even though she'd inevitably find out, he'd rather it not be tonight.

'We couldn't let him burn, Mother.'

'You know, I thought she was such a soft, easily managed little thing.' Zhivka's eyes rested on her daughter in law to be, who was speaking softly and earnestly to her mother. Viktor grinned, looking like his father, and said

'Mother, do you remember the stories about the siege of 1171?'

'There's a lot of them.'

'Those women who drove the enemy back from the walls three times in single day?'

Zhivka rolled her eyes. 'You sound like your grandfather.'

'She's a worthy successor to them, as you have been.'

'I've never had to brain anyone with a pole-arm, little bear.'

Viktor looked grim. 'Neither will Hermione, if I have my say.'

Bellatrix was having the strangest feeling. As upset as she was, her hand, like a magnet, wouldn't leave her daughter's. It was twined like ivy in the girl's, and the girl looked half ready to climb into her lap.

'Mother?'

'Hmm?'

'Are you hurt? You've got blood on you.'

'It's nothing, girl.' Bellatrix had taken a slashing hex to the shoulder, and it was still wet. Hermione opened her eyes and peeked worriedly at her mother. 'When we get to London, can Rinky look at it?'

Bellatrix's stupid hand wouldn't let go, even when she meant to scold the girl for...something. Instead, the other one moved to smooth the child's hair, feeling the mats in it.

'Not before you've had your feet tended to, girl. I can't imagine what you were thinking.'

Hermione closed her eyes again. 'Barty needs us, Mother. He's like a child.'

'He's a Death Eater.'

'He's a hero, like you and Father. And you'd come for me.' Her voice was utterly serene, sure of what she was saying, and Bellatrix's hand gripped more fiercely. 'If only to kill you should you ever do a thing like that again.'

'Yes, Mother.'

They set down at the Ministry and were led to the Floo. The house was musty, and the team of elves had made headway, but not enough for the smell to have faded, or the dust to be gone.

Hermione's feet were starting to throb. She settled on a chair and submitted to the poking and wailing of the elves, led by Rinky. Gibbon, attired in his nightshirt and a pair of trousers, arrived a few minutes later and went to work.

'Just a few minor burns. A bit of salve will take care of it, I'm sure.' The elves had scrubbed the dust from Hermione's feet, and Gibbon talked as he smeared the thick salve on and then wrapped both little feet in linen strips. 'Stay off of them for tonight, Miss Lestrange.'

'I will, Healer. Would you look at Mother's cut now?'

Gibbon snorted and rose with his black bag. 'Miss Lestrange, when you've figured out how to prevail on your mother to permit it, I shall be glad to pay you for the secret.'

Hermione smiled. 'Mother?'

Bellatrix came in. 'Girl, what's the matter? Do you need something for the pain?'

'No, Mother. Healer Gibbon wants to look you over.'

Bellatrix pulled a face. 'It's merely a scratch.' Hermione wriggled over in the vast armchair and Bellatrix sat down next to her. 'How are my daughter's feet, Gibbon?'

'Mild burns, Bellatrix. She'll be fine by tomorrow.'

'She'd best be. The Dark Lord is very upset about this, girl. You had no business doing such a dangerous thing, and you'll be very lucky if He doesn't scold you.'

Gibbon bit his tongue. The "Dark Lord" was outraged, was he? He'd scold the girl for endangering herself? Would he also take her pudding for a week? Perhaps send her to bed with no supper?

'Something funny, Nomascus?'

Gibbon recovered quickly. 'No, Bellatrix. She just looks so much like you at that age.'

'More like Father, I think, about the nose.'

'Definitely. You've a cut here.'

Hermione's hand found her mother's. Bellatrix held it and sat still whilst Gibbon examined the wound, frowning. 'I'll need some beeble berry poultice for this.'

Bellatrix tried to wriggle away. 'No, nothing like that. We've no time for this silliness, I'm needed in an hour at the Ministry.'

'Mother, will you see the Dark Lord?'

'Yes, and I'm sure He'll have some words for you.'

'He'll be worried if you're bleeding. Maybe Healer Gibbon can put some of that stuff on whilst Rinky gets us some clean clothes.'

Bellatrix looked cross. 'You're more like Narcissa every day.' She held out her arm and Gibbon dug in his bag. Hermione called Rinky and asked for clean robes and nightclothes for all of them.

The poultice burnt in the wound, and Bellatrix's jaw clenched, her hand clawing in pain. Hermione leant against her, ignoring the pain in her hand as her mother convulsively clenched and released.

'I'll need to change it tomorrow, Bellatrix. Should you like something for it?'

'No, of course not. Hermione, have your bath and then let the elves tuck you in. I'll be up in half an hour.'

Gibbon bent and murmured in Hermione's ear. 'I'll have a hundred galleons sent to your account, my dear.'

Hermione giggled. 'Am I all right to walk?'

'No. I'll spell you upstairs.'

There was a cough from the door. 'Is no need. I take her. Mother Lestrange, is good?'

Bellatrix rose to her feet. 'I'll come with you.' Viktor bent over his intended, and Hermione wrapped her arms about her his neck and he gently pulled her into his arms. It felt sort of funny-warm and shivery, but she liked it. She rested her head against him and closed her eyes as Bellatrix led them to the master bedroom.

Both children looked round the room. It was, after all, theirs, sort of. It was all dark wood and heavy velvet, with tapestried walls and brocade hangings. Viktor laid her down in the bed, face red, and bowed.

'Good evenink, Hermione, Mother Lestrange.'

Hermione's hand on his arm stopped him. 'You were splendid tonight.'

'So were you.' He bowed again and then stepped out, uncomfortably aware of how she'd felt in his arms, how soft and warm she was. It suddenly hit Viktor that she would be his wife someday, in this room, in this bed, and her mother wouldn't be there.

He walked to the room he and Draco were to share, and sat on the bed, ashamed of his thoughts and still not turning them away, feeling her in his arms, head against his collarbones, thinking back to their flight together, the heat of the fire and the cold, whistling air as they'd fallen toward earth.

An elf popped in with a nightshirt for him. 'Anything else, Master?'

'No, is good. Shower here?' The elf showed him, and Viktor kept his nightshirt in front of him as they walked.

For security purposes, the women and children were being kept in Grimmauld Place that night. The men would stop in to see them, but they wanted to strike whilst the iron was hot. Bellatrix, of course, would be going as well, as even her reputation did a world of good with suspects. She donned her clean robes, let the elf spell the snarls from her hair and went up to tuck in her daughter, whom the elves had bathed and got into bed.

Hermione was lying back in the bed. 'Mother, will Aunt Narcissa be in soon?'

'She will. You really don't need anything for pain?'

Hermione shook her head. 'No. I'm all right.'

'Hmmph. I've half a mind to take the hairbrush to you. What were you thinking?'

Hermione nibbled her lip. 'I didn't see Cunegarde or Barty. I knew they'd need us, and the adults were busy.'

'Why did you not send an elf?'

'We did, but Barty had got away.'

Bellatrix laid next to her for a moment. 'Never worry us like that again.'

Hermione's stomach lurched as little as something occurred to her. 'I didn't mean to upset you, Mother.' There was a hitch in her tone, and Bellatrix rolled and laid her head next to her daughter's.

'No one is going to leave you, you silly child. Not ever. Now close your eyes and go to sleep.' Hermione was still nibbling.

'Promise?'

'Promise.'

Hermione rolled and held onto her mother tightly for a moment. 'I love you, Mother.'

'And I you, now roll on your stomach.' Hermione did, and Bellatrix began to pat her back awkwardly.

When Narcissa crept in five minutes later, Bellatrix made a hushing motion and led her sister outside. 'She's fragile right now.'

'I'd imagine she is.' Narcissa looked down at her sister with enormous love and said 'But I know precisely who she was acting like tonight, Bellatrix Druella.'

'Hmmph. She isn't either.'

'Is.'

'Go to bed, Narcissa.'

'Must you go? It's so late.'

'Duty calls, and anyway, there's Snatchers downstairs to protect you.'

'No one can protect me like my big sister can.'

'And no one can make me absolutely mad like my baby sister.' Bellatrix reached up and pecked her sister's cheek gently.

'Rest tomorrow, all of you.'

'Of course we will. We are truly lucky.'

Bellatrix nodded. 'Yes, we are. Good night, Cissy.'

'Good night, Trixie.' Bellatrix turned and left without another word, donning her cloak and mask to slip into the Ministry. Rodolphus and Malfoy were sitting in the atrium on chairs dragged there by elves. They rose when she entered and handed her a cup of strong, sweet coffee.

'We've the suspects in custody, and as soon as everyone's assembled, we'll be off.'

A tall, distinguished looking young man with prematurely silver hair was standing next to Rodolphus. He smiled charmingly at Bellatrix. 'Is good seeing you, Madam.'

'Penko, is it?'

'Yes. Nephew Viktor.'

'I remember.' Bellatrix's eyes scanned the room. When would He come and give them His wisdom? Her heart beat faster and her cheeks flushed. Seeing her like that, Penko could detect a shadow of the woman she had been.

The Floo went green, and the massive form of Galvin Goyle stepped through. As soon as he turned, they could see it was not him. 'Hello, friends.'

'My Lord! We have longed for your presence.' Bellatrix beamed and stepped toward him, blushing like a bride. The Dark Lord gently took one of her tiny hands in Goyle's big paw.

'Of course, darling Bella. And we will see you are amply rewarded for your pains this evening.'

The group went to the Minister's office. All walnut and deep gold upholstery, to Bellatrix, it looked like a cathouse. She perched on a settee and stared at the Dark Lord, the man she'd loved since he'd come to see her father when she was fifteen.

Scabior summed up the situation. 'An we thinks these blokes'll give us what we needs, M'Lord.'

'Rodolphus, I trust you will interrogate them?'

Rodolphus nodded. 'At Your word, my Lord.' The Dark Lord nodded, pleased, and gestured to Snape, who had followed him through.

'Severus and I were at work on my memoirs when we got the distressing news. What are your thoughts, Severus?' They'd left after supper to go to Hogwarts.

'I believe we ought to treat these people with all due harshness, my lord. It is my understanding that several non-combatants were nearly killed.'

Bellatrix nodded. 'My Lord, my daughter was nearly killed!'

'What a terrible thing.' The Dark Lord pulled a sorrowful face with Goyle's rough-hewn, homely features.

'What do we believe their next move to be?'

Rodolphus and Snape looked at one another. 'We aren't sure, my lord. We've people on all boarders, the Floo is cut off, except for our special connexions, and the post is being monitored.'

'Excellent. And the Bulgarians?'

Penko stepped forward and swished. '* My lord, we're eager to help in any way we can. Our Minister has pledged a thousand aurors to secure Britain against this menace*.'

'*How kind of him. I shall take him up on that.*'

He turned back to his Death Eaters, who were straining at the slips like greyhounds, eager for the hunt.

'I shall need you all to help coordinate this effort. Our very way of life is under attack.' They all nodded, and the Dark Lord turned to Selwyn, who was taking notes. 'And Ajax, the treasury will rebuild the damaged wing and replace whatever is damaged. See to it.'

'Thank you, my Lord' said Rodolphus, who'd been worried about the house. It had been in the family over a thousand years, and he wanted to make sure it stay there a thousand more.

'My Lord, perhaps you would deign to come and see the children? They, too, crave Your wisdom.'

'I will certainly find the time.'

'We would appreciate it very much.' Bellatrix thought a few good words from the Dark Lord would discourage this nice thing her daughter had.

'My lord, the children were nearly killed tonight. All three of them got safely from the house but returned to find Cunegarde Lestrange and Barty Crouch whilst the adults were occupied in fighting the interlopers.' Snape's face was impassive.

'Did they? How exemplary.' The Dark Lord rose and started for the door. He turned to his best and most loyal, who had a strange look on her face.

'Bella?'

'Could my Lord have a word with Hermione? She was the one who convinced the others. We worry that her kind impulses might hurt her.'

'Did she say why she did such a thing?'

'Because she said we would do it for her, and Barty is...not well. In his mind.' Snape almost felt sorry for Bellatrix, her face corpse white, her eyes like holes punched in a marble slab.

'Again, most exemplary. But Bella, we must all make sacrifices. Surely you, of all people, must know that?'

And before she could answer, he had swept off, giving orders to Selwyn.