Thirty-six is something, to say at least. I took some time to write it but there's really no action, just some P.O.V. switches and Carmione (apparently that's the ship name, according to a fan of mine) stuff that I hope you'll like, though it's mostly rather serious stuff. Please continue to review and check out The Time Jumper if you can!
"Drop, now!"
Carina let go of the dragon's spike at Harry's call, and she plummeted to the ground with the others not far behind, hitting the ocean water hard. The solid hit stung a bit, but she ignored it and swam to shore, getting to her feet on the bank with the others; she shifted and shook her fur vigorously.
"Oi!" cried Ron, shielding his face and taking a step back. "Lay off, will you?"
She huffed at him and shifted back, running her hands through her hair, which had been plastered about her head. Her eyes found Hermione, who was standing just a bit farther off from the others, and she made her way over to the other girl.
"Are you alright?" she asked finally, watching as Hermione wrung out her dress and moved onto her hair.
"Fine," Hermione replied quietly, though Carina saw through the charade immediately. She was bothered by the event that had transpired before they broke into Gringotts, when Carina was supposed to be playing the character of Bellatrix Lestrange; perhaps she had played it a bit too well.
"Mione." The raven haired girl felt a pang in her chest and reached out, angling her partner's face so that they were looking directly at each other. "I'm sorry."
"It's alright." Hermione, who had been so brave earlier, looked away. All of Carina's previous adrenaline and excitement had long since faded by now, and now all she could feel was weary. Why could she not have offed the bloody goblin before, or left him in that manor? Then, they wouldn't be in this position. Or, they wouldn't have even gotten into Gringotts in the first place. "You did what you had to. I just couldn't help but be a bit...worried."
"Worried?" Gray eyes noticed how the other witch's shoulders slumped slightly. It was then that she knew exactly what Hermione had been worried about, and she swallowed hard. "You thought I was going to chop your head off. You thought I was going to slit your throat, or use the cruciatus on you."
The brunette did not answer.
"Oh, Merlin. Bloody hell! You really…? Hermione, look at me."
"I'm sorry," repeated Hermione softly, though she met her eyes. "I couldn't help it. I didn't really think you would do anything that extreme, but it was all so real...until you nicked me. And then I sort of came to my senses, because she surely would have done worse."
She would have. Bellatrix Lestrange really would have slit her throat, cut off her head, or tortured her until her mind snapped. But that was where Carina Black drew the line, acting or not, war or not, because she could not do that to Hermione Granger.
"Yes." Carina let out a breath and, after a moment or so's hesitation, held open her arms.
Hermione barrelled into them with such force that the other girl staggered back a bit, before holding the brunette firmly; the abruptness of it had caught her off guard, for she had expected just a bit of a pause. She buried her face in Hermione's hair, and her lips brushed over the place she had cut. "I'm sorry, I am."
Hermione's arms tightened around her torso. "I know. Really, Rina, it's alright."
The breath hitting her neck made the raven haired girl shiver slightly, but she did not move otherwise, standing there for what seemed like hours, waiting. Finally, when Hermione was the one to take a step back, Carina rubbed ruefully at her forearm, which was suddenly searing with pain. When she glanced down at it, she saw that it had been burnt pretty badly, though not to the third degree, at least. She had apparently not felt it nor noticed it had happened during the excitement of the break out.
Her girlfriend noticed. "What is it?"
"Got burnt a bit." Carina pulled down the sleeve, for she did not want her to worry over it when she could heal herself. "It's nothing."
She reached out and snagged Hermione's bag from a passing Harry—who had obviously intended to hand it to her and not have it stolen—and rummaged about, quickly finding her clothing, and passed it along to Hermione, who frowned.
~~~xxx~~~
Hermione took the bag and noticed how one glare from Carina had both Harry and Ron turning their backs as the raven haired girl swiftly began to change; the brunette winced at the copious amounts of scarring along her torso, chest and arms. That was where the main, larger bits were, though there were smaller ones scattered randomly everywhere else.
It's funny, how these stand out so much to me when I forget most of the time about the one on her face.
Though Hermione's attention had been previously directed at the scars, her eyes could not help but stray to the flat stomach, toned arms (from playing Quidditch, of course, though they were not so much as bulky like a Beater's would have been) and legs (obviously from all the time they had been on the run, sprinting into battle and away from attackers, and possibly before if she had tried to whip herself back into some semblance of shape), and whole of the curved, wiry body before her. Carina did not have particularly wide hips, nor a very large chest, but she was proportioned well for her size and possessed a strength that she had lost during her time in Azkaban, though her ribs were still rather visible due to them all not getting enough nutrition these past few months.
During her observations, Hermione had not noticed that Carina had finally caught onto what was happening and slipped on her shirt, snapping the other girl from her daze.
Hermione ducked her head and felt her cheeks flush, though she did not miss the faint smirk on the raven haired girl's face as she turned away.
The brunette hastily followed suit in getting dressed, and they tossed the hideous wet clothing they had been wearing into the ocean—they did not need it anymore. And, any clothing reminiscent of Bellatrix she wanted to be rid of quickly.
She found it suspicious that Carina had hidden her arm like so, but surely she would say something if she were injured badly? If it were just burnt "a bit" as she had said, then there would be nothing to worry about, but if she were playing it off as less than it was, there would be a problem if it were not properly treated.
"Hermione," called Harry, brushing his fingers over his scar with a small wince. It was obvious he had had another sense of Voldemort. The boy did not look happy. "He's angry. Really, really angry. He wants us found."
She, Harry, and Ron all gathered in a group as they begun to speak over their plans, and it was, strangely, the redhead himself who noticed that Carina was missing.
"She's over there," he said suddenly, pointing. He was correct. Carina was sitting on a rock a far distance away, her back to them and wand out; concerned, Hermione made to stand, but Ron beat her to it. "No, I'll get her."
"Ron—" tried Hermione, who did not think this was such a good idea because of their tendency to harm each other at any opportunity, verbally, physically, or magically.
"I've got this." He was already walking away, and he looked back at her, huffing once. "I won't do anything to her."
Harry put a hand on her arm, and reluctantly, Hermione nodded.
~~~xxx~~~
Ron did not quite know what possessed him to volunteer to go after Carina, but when he finally made his way to the girl, as he peered over her shoulder, he could see quite clearly the burn on her wand arm, which she was attempting to heal with her left hand. She was proficient enough at it, he supposed, because it was not the angry red they were typically, but it seemed that she was definitely out of practice if the slightly clumsy way she held it was any indication.
The girl huffed, and she twirled her wand in her hand; Ron found himself being tugged forward as if by some invisible rope, and he fell into the sand beside her.
It appeared she was not quite as out of practice as he thought.
"Er, the others sent me after you," he finally managed, staring at the swollen, surely second degree burns she had received from the dragon and its fire. The fire that had nearly caught Hermione, but had caught Carina instead when they were fighting. "They were wondering where you were. We're discussing our plan."
Ron kept his tone polite, but beneath the surface he was feeling so many things at once. Jealousy for the girl that had been taken from him, anger at the other girl that had done such a thing, a twisted sense of self loathing for not being able to be happy for Hermione even though he thought she would do better with him, and the pain of the loss of a friend he had had once ago. It felt like it had been years ago, and now they were this, and he could not help but dislike Carina Black and who she had become. He was sure she felt the same.
"I'll be there later," Carina murmured, and her attention was returned again to the burn on her forearm. She let out a hiss as she prodded it with her wand. "Bloody hell." Her gray eyes flickered up to meet his, and a muscle worked in her jaw. "I already have a guess at what they're talking about. I'm not needed there at the moment."
You're not needed at all, Ron thought for a moment, before he inwardly berated himself with a mental grumble. He knew that was not right, because they did need her. If not for Carina, they would not have gotten into Gringotts without having to Imperio a small majority of goblins there, and if not for her impersonating Bellatrix, Hermione would have had to, and it was cruel to make her play her torturer.
And it's not anymore cruel to make Carina play her father's murderer? Her love's psychotic tormentor? The deranged cousin who tried to kill her? a voice within him whispered. She volunteered to take Hermione's place, but it surely affected her more inside in different ways that you could not imagine.
He shook off the voice inside and replied grudgingly, "I guess. Why aren't you having Hermione heal it?"
She did not miss the twinge of bitterness his voice held, and she glanced up at him again. Perhaps, he knew, she felt a bit smug at having won Hermione over somehow, but he also knew that she had not expected it to happen, just like he had not. He had expected he and Hermione might reconcile and be together, but it had not happened. Instead, Hermione had chosen the dangerous Carina Black over the insecure Ron Weasley, the girl over the boy, the rich over the poor, black over red, scarred porcelain skin over skin marred with hundreds of freckles, the chaser over the keeper, the dark over the light. There were many comparisons that could be made, but instead he shut himself off from that part of his mind, from the pain, and focused himself on something else.
"She's healed enough of me," the raven haired girl removed her wand holster and tapped the tip of her wand to her forearm; a bandage sprung to wrap tightly around it. "And I can do it myself. It should be better in a couple days at most. The Black library was filled with healing spells along with…"
Along with the dark curses you taught yourself. He'd guessed right about why she had spent the summer holed up in the Black Library, and apparently he had said it aloud without meaning to, for her lips curled up in a suppressed snarl, something that he had become accustomed to. It was animalistic, primal, and when she made such noises they always sounded like the predator that was inside her. When she bared her teeth, when she got angry, there was always the shadow of the wolf upon her face, cold and unforgiving and lethal.
"I did that so that I could protect us," she said sharply, lowly. Her fingers flexed over her wand. "And myself. It's worked well so far, so don't judge me or my methods. If you get hit by a dark curse out here and we can't go to a healer, who's going to have to heal you? Who will know how? Me, that's who."
Ron nodded once, stiffly. He did not like being rebuked in such a way but she had a point, and if he fought with her now he certainly wouldn't get any points with Hermione. He was not the type to break up a relationship, but things could happen and he honestly hoped that they broke up—because, of course, the more extreme option involved Carina dying and leaving Hermione single, and even he did not want that.
He just wished this hadn't happened at all.
Carina pulled her sleeve down and stood, turning her back on him and transferred her wand holster back, fidgeting with it experimentally, before she winced at the tension it put on her burnt forearm and removed it, settling it instead on her left. Her wand disappeared into it.
"Let's get over there, then." She had obviously decided to join in on the conversation they had been having, though as the two glanced over, they could see Harry and Hermione watching silently, both looking slightly worried of the outcome. The raven haired girl noticed, and before Ron could think of standing as well, silently held out her uninjured arm, hand outstretched.
He knew what she wanted, and he clasped his hand to her forearm tightly, she doing the same as she jerked him to his feet with a strength he did not know she possessed. There was a bit of a struggle, of course, giving how much larger than her he was, but it was still done with more ease than he had expected. He should have expected it, given how they had been unable to move her from the door of the cell in Malfoy Manor.
Carina had already let go and was walking away, and Ron caught up to her in a few quick strides. When they rejoined the others, Carina was careful, it seemed, to sit down on Hermione's right rather than her left, so she would not bother her injured arm or draw attention to it. If the bookworm noticed, she did not give any indication and took the younger girl's hand in her own, entwining their fingers.
Ron swallowed hard and looked away.
~~~xxx~~~
They apparated to another forest shortly after discussing the plan, which was for the time being going to be that they camp out for a day or so before possibly attempting to get to Hogwarts. They would need to get to there to get the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, which they assumed must be there somewhere. It was Carina who had proposed they use fiendfyre for the destroying of both objects once they had collected the diadem. Or, rather, proposed that she use fiendfyre since she thought she would be the best suited to use it, not to mention stop the flames from engulfing everything in sight.
So, that was why they were here, and Hermione found herself making her way outside the tent where Carina was keeping watch while Harry and Ron talked amongst themselves. When she left the tent, she at first did not see the other girl as she straightened, but then caught sight of Carina standing nearby, leaning against a tree and tapping her wand on her thigh as she watched diligently for intruders.
There was, however, only one thing wrong with this picture.
The wand wasn't in Carina's right hand. It was in her left.
"Why are you holding your wand like that?" Hermione questioned, making her way over to the other witch.
The raven haired girl did not turn to look at her. Hermione was not phased; it was clear that there had been no need to speak to announce herself, for she had been heard easily. Hermione moved to stand in front of her.
"Practice," replied Carina after a moment, eyes finally wandering away from the forest and to her girlfriend. Hermione detected something off, but did not call her out on it. "I might as well learn to use my left as well as my right."
"I see." The brunette nodded along, noticing how as she got closer, Carina shifted (not the Animagus kind, of course) ever so slightly, so that her right arm was further pressed into the tree and not easily noticeable. "Have you seen anything?"
"No."
"You've been standing in the same spot for hours, Carina." Hermione moved even closer. "Why don't you come inside and let me take over?"
She was concerned, because it was true; the younger girl had been standing in the same spot since nightfall, and it was already late morning, nearly afternoon of the next day. She needed rest.
"I'm fine here."
"You need to get some sleep. You'll be of no use to us if you're not fully rested," the bookworm pointed out, though not unkindly.
"I'll be no use at all if I'm sleeping." Hermione was no longer being paid attention to, for Carina was already scanning the trees yet again, nose twitching occasionally as she drew in a particularly deep breath; she was checking for unusual scents. Death Eater scents.
"You're so stubborn." Hermione shook her head, sighing slightly. She reached up to tap Carina's cheek, and she felt a surge of fondness, because only this girl would be so concerned with protecting them. "At least take a break, then. Talk to me. The boys are off in their own little world and they're sure to not come out of it anytime soon."
Gray eyes wandered back to her own, and the raven haired girl pushed herself off the tree, slipping her wand back into the holster before she crossed her arms. There was a faint smile on her lips when she peered back up again.
"Alright," she said, and chuckled lightly as she dropped to the ground. "Come on, then." Hermione made to sit down next to her, but there was a tug at her wrist that sent her toppling into Carina's lap, and for a moment the other girl looked nothing short of amused, until she seemed to realize that Hermione had not said anything yet and paused, hesitant. "Is this alright?"
"Yes," managed the brunette finally, shaking off any reservations she might have had. She cleared her throat, and a question she had been meaning to ask came to her mind. Tentatively, she asked it. "How did you do it? Play her. After all she's done to us, to you, are you sure you're okay after that?"
Carina stared at her blankly for a moment, before her facade cracked and she seemed to decide there was no point in hiding anything. "I just didn't think about it. Or, I tried not to," she admitted. "If I didn't think and only acted, there would be no time to muddle my mind with all the bad. I did what I had to, and I hope I never have to become her again." She swallowed. "But I did notice one thing; we're similar, Bellatrix and I. Weasley has brought that to my attention on more than one occasion, not to mention those Snatchers. They didn't say it, but I saw. We're both ruthless monsters hell bent on killing and torturing people for varying reasons. She can look at me, her younger cousin, turn her wand on me and make me feel as much pain as she wants without remorse. She could look at my father, another cousin, and send him straight through that bloody veil of death after she killed him. I tore the throat out of a man and I didn't care; I want to make her suffer, she's supposed to be my family, and I don't care. I want to watch her fall—I want to hear her scream. I want to see that look of terror in her eyes when she realizes that she's about to die and her master isn't there to save her, not from me, not this time. I want her to realize that this time, she's alone; this time, she isn't going to live. There will be no glory, no master to return to, no family left to speak of. Just the end."
The raven haired girl's speech made Hermione feel a bit nauseous. She remembered well the people that had died not at the hand of Bellatrix, but Carina. The blood that had dripped from her lips when she ripped the throat from Scabior, the same lips she found herself kissing nowadays; Hermione could see it in her mind's eye, what the damaged child and then charming girl had turned into.
Carina Black, Undesirable Number Two, with the cold gray eyes and the unforgiving temper, with the wicked smile that struck the brunette everytime she saw it. The girl with the vast knowledge of dark curses, the one that could turn into a beast with a wild snarl and sharp fangs, the one who could sit here and talk about murder and torture and feel numb to it all. The teen who had shown herself on many occasions to have that innate madness the Black family seemed to possess, that spot of darkness inside straining to break free and wreak havoc on anyone who crossed her.
It was a frightening prospect. She was frightening, could be utterly terrifying when she wanted to be; she was dangerous. She could kill Hermione right now on the spot, could slaughter Ron and Harry in the tent, unaware of the conversation going on outside away from where they sat.
But Carina Black would not. Because, though she had done, was all those things, she was also much more than what she could be.
She was also the girl who had, at eleven, leapt through fire for her friend and faced off the Dark Lord and his host; the girl who had went off to face a Basilisk, the girl who could nearly kill her own father at thirteen to protect her friends, who had offered herself up to be eaten by a werewolf to give the others time to escape. Carina was the one who had soothed Hermione's nightmares of her parents, who had taken curses and daggers alike for those she was close to and would surely leap in the way again if it meant Hermione would live. If it meant Luna, or even Ginny or Harry would live—she might even save Ron Weasley if the situation were called for.
Carina was always there when Hermione or Luna needed her, had watched out for them and others in her own ways and cared for them more deeply than anyone else could have thought possible for being as damaged a person as she was. She had not once abandoned them to what would surely be their fates, especially not in Malfoy Manor, and would surely do anything for them. She constantly went along with the strange whims of Luna Lovegood without complaint, and even when she was suffering in silence still she managed to find it in her to look after Hermione in her own subtle ways. She was a complicated person, sure, but she was also a beautiful one; though her heart was as scarred as the rest of her, she loved deeply, with everything in her, and that made her special.
There were many things Hermione could think about for this girl, many good things and many bad alike. But, the bad didn't matter, because in the end, Carina Black was still the strong willed young woman she had come to care for, possibly have even fallen in love with, and—
"You're not a monster."
A frown tugged at Carina's lips as she stared at Hermione, who had blurted it out the words very suddenly and without much more thought on it.
"Did you not hear a word I just said?" The raven haired girl clearly thought her girlfriend was insane. "Did that not make you feel any differently?"
"Was it supposed to?"
"Bloody hell, and you're the smartest witch of our age? You're not running?"
"I didn't before," Hermione said steadily, straightening. As she took one of Carina's hands in her own, she noticed that it was shaking and felt a pang. She thought that by voicing this to me, I'd want to leave after. For all the bravado she's shown, she's actually afraid. "And I won't now." She watched the younger girl carefully. "These are dark times. Sometimes, killing is necessary. Sometimes, we need to do what has to be done and protect those we care for. You've done that. While I might not approve of your methods, I don't care for you any less than before, no matter what I've seen. Bellatrix—" She stumbled over the name, before forcing herself to continue evenly. "—will deserve whatever you intend to do to her. You want her to suffer as she's made countless others do, and I understand that. I won't stop you. In fact, I'll be relieved when she's gone. I'm not going to leave you, Rina, so stop trying to chase me away."
"I don't mean to," murmured Carina, and Hermione squeezed the trembling hand in her own. "I'm worried you'll be disgusted by me. That you'll think of me like others do."
"How could I?" The brunette shook her head. "If I were afraid of you, would I really be sitting here telling you that you're not some monster, instead of stupefying you and running off?"
"No." Carina's eyes were downcast, and her fingers slid from Hermione's to pull up her right sleeve and reveal the bandage on her forearm. "I'm sorry for lying earlier. I did get burnt back in Gringotts, but I've been healing myself with some spells I know that work well enough. It should be better in a couple days."
"Oh, Rina," Hermione sighed, and reached over to brush aside the dark hair that had fallen in the other girl's face. "At least let me put some dittany on it."
Carina glanced up at her and nodded once. Hermione waved her wand to summon the small bottle, and then carefully unwrapped the bandage. The sight that greeted her was not a pretty one, but Carina had been right—it was healing well enough, though the dittany was bound to help it along even further. The raven haired girl sat there patiently, only wincing once when the dittany was dabbed along her forearm, and then Hermione tucked the bottle in her pocket and tapped the bandage; it wound itself tightly around Carina's arm.
Said girl flexed her arm and clenched and unclenched her hand, twisting it about to be sure that the bandage was on properly, before nodding in satisfaction and slid her sleeve back down.
Unable to help herself, Hermione leaned forward to kiss her girlfriend softly. It was, of course, immediately returned, and when the bookworm pulled away to look at her, she could see Carina's lips twitch.
"I should get injured more often if that's what happens after I get treated."
Hermione swatted her on the shoulder. "Don't even think about it!"
Carina curled an arm around Hermione and pulled her closer, and the older girl could feel the warm breath on her neck and felt goosebumps rise on her arms. "I don't know, it sounds pretty appealing."
Hermione knew she was teasing and was happy that her mood had improved slightly, though she gently scolded, "Carina, promise me."
"You'll have to do something for me first."
Rolling her eyes, the brunette twisted to face Carina, who was watching her with the hint of a smirk on her face. "And that would be?"
"Kiss me."
Hermione was more than happy to oblige.