"Your task is to kill your uncle, Albus Dumbledore."
She couldn't have heard right. Surely he didn't mean-
"My Lord?" her voice came out eerily calm. As if she hadn't just been asked to kill one of her family members.
His red eyes glittered in the firelight. "I have chosen to give you the greatest honor there is. Once you have eliminated their leader the Order of the Phoenix will lose control, and we will be there to snap them up. You will be the second most powerful being in the Wizarding World. Endless possibilities will lay at your feet! Severus, Bellatrix, what do you think? Have I not paved the way for Hermione's success?"
"You are most gracious," gushed Bellatrix, and Hermione struggled to keep the frown from sliding over her features. The other witch was on the edge of her seat, her hands within touching distance of his.
"And you, Severus?"
Her uncle was as stoic as ever. He wove his fingers together and rested them on his knees. "It would certainly send the Order reeling. I don't think there's another force in the Order who has the capability and finesse that Dumbledore does."
Bellatrix snorted, "In love with old Dumbledore, are we?"
Severus stared coldly at her, "It would be foolish to deny his accomplishments."
"Severus is correct," Voldemort chuckled darkly, sending chills up and down Hermione's back. "Dumbledore is a worthy opponent. He is skilled, and powerful. But not all-powerful. The world forgets that he has his weaknesses, and when his murderer is revealed to be a sixth year at Hogwarts… well, no one will think of him as indestructible after that. And when they start to doubt him they will start to doubt his opposition to me."
She was going to be sick. Between the thought of doing that to her uncle, and the sheer adoration that was dripping from Bellatrix it was a wonder she could keep her stomach under control.
"Is there a timeline you wish Hermione to keep?" she envied how calm her uncle could keep his voice.
"I think it should be accomplished before the summer holidays. That should give you plenty of time to come up with a good strategy. Too much time, perhaps." He said this in what might have been a teasing tone.
"That will be more than enough time," Bellatrix promised, "We'll start strategizing right away."
Will we?
Bellatrix's eyes flicked to her in surprise, and Hermione looked down. She felt that if she met Bellatrix's gaze she would be unable to mask her feelings. The last thing she needed was to have the Dark Lord question her loyalties.
She thought of her mother and Draco at home in the Forest Cottage and forced herself to stay calm. She ignored Bellatrix's questioning presence in her mind, and threw up her Occlumency shields so that the other witch couldn't get through.
"I look forward to seeing you succeed," the Dark Lord smiled at her.
There was nothing more that Hermione could absorb after that. Luckily, it seemed the Dark Lord was as eager for them to leave as she was.
"Goodbye Severus, Hermione." A satisfied smirk crossed his features, "I hope you have a very good term."
Her goodbye was barely audible.
"Severus, I want you to report to me one last time before you return to Hogwarts. There are things we need to discuss."
Her uncle nodded, and said his own goodbye before sweeping into the hallway. Hermione lingered at the door, however. It was as if some unknown force demanded she not leave Bellatrix alone with Voldemort. The other witch stood reluctantly, but stepped closer to him.
"She won't disappoint you," Bellatrix promised.
Hermione's stomach lurched as she watched him grin fondly at Bellatrix. He reached up and stroked a finger down Bellatrix's cheek, "With you there to guide her, I'm certain she won't."
"You are too kind, my lord." Bellatrix whispered.
It was impossible to watch. She wrenched her eyes away and stalked after her uncle. She could hear Bellatrix enter the corridor and hurry after her. When they exited the front door the dark witch moved to take her arm.
"No," Hermione said, moving closer to her uncle. Snow crunched underfoot, and she pulled her cloak tighter around herself to ward off the chill.
"We should return to the lodge and strategize," Bellatrix said, confusion and concern showing on her face.
Severus looked between the two witches. His eyes lingered on Hermione's, and she stared tiredly back at him. "I think that's enough for one day," he said, holding out his arm for Hermione to take.
She refused to meet Bellatrix's eyes as she grasped his forearm.
"Are you serious? We've just learned what your first task is, Dove! We have so much to do! You can't possibly-"
"I'm taking her home," he said in a firmer tone. "You can do your training later."
There was an uncomfortable silence, and then she ground out, "Tomorrow then. After lunch."
Still not meeting her eyes, Hermione nodded, and then sighed with relief as the pull of apparation took her away.
Unlike Bellatrix, Severus was allowed within the wards, so he took her straight to the front door of Forest Cottage.
"Thank you," she whispered.
He nodded. "I think it's best to train with a clear mind." He studied her, neither of them moving towards the door handle. "I know the two of you are close-"
She almost snorted at that term, close. Almost.
"-but you should remember that she is, first and foremost, a Death Eater. If you are having any misgivings about your task-"
"Don't bring it up to her." Hermione's voice was hoarse, as if she had been yelling for an extended period of time. She felt very tired all of a sudden. She didn't know if it was possible to hide her misgivings, regardless of whether or not it was the right thing to do. But she didn't want him to worry about her. Especially not when it came to Bellatrix.
He looked as if he wanted to say more, but nodded instead. "I think I'll say hello to your mother."
She pushed open the door, sighing a little at the comfortable warmth that enveloped her. Turnip gave a little yap of welcome, and waddled over to inspect Severus. His fur was dark grey, with the faintest trace of red.
"You've just missed Draco," her mother said warmly from her chair by the hearth. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she marked the spot in the book she was reading with a silk ribbon, setting it on the table beside her. "He's gone off to play Quidditch at the Macmillan residence."
"That's fine," Severus said, "I was hoping to have a private word with you."
Her mother instantly looked at her. "Hermione?"
But Hermione knew that if she stayed in that room and let her mother fuss over her she would start crying. And if she started crying she would tell her everything.
"I'm feeling a bit tired," she said, trying to smile. "I thought I'd take a nap."
She wasn't fooling her mother. She knew that. But Narcissa merely nodded, "Alright darling. I'll check on you in a bit."
She nodded, "Bye, Uncle Sev." She impulsively hugged him as she said it.
Surprisingly, he hugged her back. "Goodbye, Hermione. I hope the rest of your holiday is rather uneventful." Releasing her, he gave a tiny smile, "But don't hesitate to owl me if there's anything you need."
She nodded, and gave his arm one last squeeze before she headed up the stairs, Turnip at her heels.
Her room was cold. The moment she walked in a cheery fire roared to life, but it would take a while for it to heat the room. She left the lights off, and dragged her chair in front of the window.
"Mardie, I'd like some water please," she whispered. A moment later a glass of water appeared on her nightstand. She took a deep breath and drank thirstily, draining the contents in short order. Kicking off her boots, she threw her cloak onto the bed and grabbed the soft woolen throw from the foot of it.
"Your task is to kill your uncle, Albus Dumbledore."
With wooden steps, she lurched towards the chair. As soon as she sat down Turnip was in her lap, whining and nosing at her hands, his snout glowing the calming gold that came from his magic.
But not even Wubble magic could breach the unbearable ache in her chest. She stroked his glossy head more to soothe him than herself, and stared broodingly out the window.
She couldn't let her father rot in Azkaban. But could she really kill her uncle?
Her brother would never speak to her again. Not if she…
Horror filled her as the image of her Uncle Albus's lifeless body filled her mind. She pictured herself standing above him, wand pointed at his throat.
Turnip yawned, and moved his head so that it rested over her chest. She welcomed the distraction.
She couldn't think about it. Not that. She cast around for something else to focus on, and a scowl settled over her features as she remembered how Bellatrix had fawned over the Dark Lord. Like a puppy with eyes only for it's master.
She could feel Bellatrix now, pressed against her Occlumency shields, trying to get her attention. She wanted nothing more than to be with her at that moment. Wrapped in her arms, assured that everything would be ok.
But a sour taste filled her mouth and she could not shake the image of the Dark Lord running a finger down Bellatrix's cheek.
She settled into her chair and stroked Turnip. Tomorrow she would talk to Bellatrix. Today…
Today all she wanted to do was sleep.
XX
Narcissa believed in the importance of one-on-one time with her children. It was no surprise when she announced the next morning that she would be taking Hermione shopping, and the brunette was grateful for anything that would keep her mind off the Dark Lord and Bellatrix.
Diagon Alley was livelier than it had been in months. Pink-cheeked customers darted in and out of the shops, their parcels rustling cheerily. Snow fell from great, fluffy clouds, transforming the alley into a cheerful winter wonderland. Along with the protection charms, potions, and amulets there were all manner of items being sold for the new year. Amulets to bring love, potions that promised luck and fortune- One witch sold seedlings of a vine that was supposed to "trap misfortune at the door."
"I'm pretty sure that's Devil's Snare," her mother whispered cordially into her ear as they passed. "I'm sure it will trap far more than anyone's misfortunes."
They hit all the high end shops, where the shopkeepers knew better than to refer to Lucius' whereabouts.
"I'm so glad you take my advice," Narcissa sighed as she took in the Slytherin-green dress Hermione had agreed to try on. "I do love Draco very much, but lately his taste in clothing is so…"
"Hideous?" Hermione suggested. She grinned as her mother burst into laughter.
They bought the dress, and matching shoes, and then spent an hour trying on makeup. Her mother really did have impeccable taste. And Hermione felt a little thrill of pride whenever she held up something and received a nod of approval.
"We'll stop at Thistle for lunch," Narcissa said finally as they made their usual stop for Hermione's hair potions. "I know you have a training this afternoon."
Hermione made a face at the reminder, but followed her mother into the restaurant.
Thistle was full of light. It had a high, glass ceiling that was enchanted to show blue skies all the time.
They were led to a white booth.
"Would you like your usual, Madam Malfoy?" Asked the server.
"Yes, please. And the same for my daughter."
"With tea?"
"Butterbeer for me," said Hermione, sliding out of her cloak as she took a seat and handing it to the server.
"I would like tea, thank you."
The server inclined her head and disappeared.
It was only a few moments before Hermione's butterbeer popped onto the table. It was warm and fragrant, and she took an eager drink of it as her lunch popped onto the table beside it. It was a deep golden broth and a small platter of fish and roasted vegetables.
"Fresh caught this morning," her mother said, grinning as she tucked her napkin onto her lap. "This always reminds me of the summer your father and I spent on the Mediterranean. It was right after our wedding."
It was delicious. The broth was rich and warming, the fish tender, and the vegetables practically buzzed with spices.
"Your father used to joke that if we sent you to Beauxbatons instead of Hogwarts we could have lived on the French Riviera." She smiled. "I nearly took him up on it."
Hermione listened to her mother's stories about her adventures in the Mediterranean. She was a good storyteller, and Hermione could easily have listened to her voice for day.
It was over dessert (chocolate cheesecake with an orange glaze) that her mother grew serious. She cast a privacy bubble over their booth, and cleared her throat.
"Severus told me you have been given your first task."
Hermione froze with her fork halfway to her mouth. "Did he tell you what it was?"
"No. But he said it was… devastating."
Hermione set her fork down.
"I just want you to know that you don't have to do it." Her mother continued. "I have the means to hide you if you don't want to. There's no shame in it."
But she couldn't hide. She couldn't sit idly by and wonder what was happening to her friends. To her home.
She also didn't know if she could kill her uncle, but she would deal with that later.
"If I succeed," she said at last, "He'll let me free Papa."
Understanding filled her mother's face. She slid her plate out of the way and reached for Hermione's hands, taking them in her warm ones. "We all want him to come home, darling."
"Not Draco," Hermione shook her head.
Her mother sighed. "Draco does, I'm sure. He's just having trouble reconciling your father's actions with the man he knows."
"That's a poor excuse."
"Please," her mother's hand tightened around hers, "Please don't do something you're going to regret just to free your father."
Hermione swallowed heavily. "I would do anything for Papa," she whispered. "I wouldn't- I haven't made up my mind yet," she admitted.
Her mother looked relieved, and for some reason it made guilt churn in her stomach. "Good. That's, that's good. Just… don't make any decisions lightly."
Hermione could have laughed. "Don't worry mother, I won't." Then, to change the subject, she forced a sigh, "Bellatrix is probably waiting."
"Ah yes, my beloved sister." she released Hermione, and stabbed the last bite of her cheesecake with her fork. "If she's pressuring you to do anything-"
"Mother!" Her face was burning.
Narcissa blinked, and then a faint smear of pink bloomed in her cheeks. "Not that! I mean, yes that. That too. If she's pressuring you to do anything you don't want to do all you have to do is tell me, and I'll make sure that she never bothers you again."
"She's not pressuring me!" Hermione said quickly. "I… everything was consensual."
"Good." Narcissa took a quick drink of tea. "Good. But nevertheless, if that changes, you can always tell me." Her blue eyes blazed. "You are my daughter, and you will always come before her."
She couldn't help but feel a little glow of happiness at that.
They paid their bill, and moved to the restaurant's Floo point.
"I'll put your things away," Narcissa promised once they emerged safely into the Forest Cottage's living room. She glanced through the window, "I can see her out there. Do you have your wand?"
"Yes!" Hermione said breathlessly as she flew to the door. "I'll be back by dinner!" She said, disappearing through the door before her mother could reply.
Though she was annoyed with Bellatrix, she couldn't help the flood of warmth that filled her the moment her eyes locked on the pacing figure. A smile tugged at her lips before she recalled the image of her hanging onto every word the Dark Lord said.
"There you are!" Bellatrix yelled once she reached the gate. "Why are you keeping me out?" She wore her practical black training robes, and her hair was pinned up in a knot. "I've been so worried-"
"Not here," Hermione shook her head, "Mother might hear."
Bellatrix rolled her eyes and stalked forward. Her grasp on Hermione's elbow was a little too tight for comfort, but a moment later she was pulled into Bellatrix's apparation.
They were deposited on the floor of Bellatrix's sitting room.
"There," Bellatrix stood up and pulled off her cloak, tossing it over the back of the couch. "No more mother. Now tell me why you've been keeping me out." Her dark brows were furrowed as she glared down at the younger witch.
Hermione didn't move from her spot on the floor. Before she could stop them, tears were springing to her eyes.
"Oh no you don't," Bellatrix said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You can't shut me out without an explanation and then look for comfort!"
"I'm not looking for comfort!" Hermione shot, swiping the back of her hand over her eyes. Though part of her admitted that was a lie. She wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in Bellatrix's arms.
"You can't do that to me again," Bellatrix said, and this time Hermione caught the note of desperation in her voice.
She looked up, and studied the older witch. Bellatrix was paler than usual, and her eyes were red and shinier than usual. She looked like she hadn't slept at all. And it was then that it occurred to Hermione that it might be Bellatrix who was looking for comfort.
Slowly, she eased away from her Occlumency shield.
He touched you.
Bellatrix blinked. "What?"
Hermione scowled up at her. "The Dark Lord. He touched you."
"That was jealousy?" Bellatrix looked as if she might start laughing. "Doveling, are you actually jealous of-"
"He doesn't have the right to touch you," barked Hermione, "You're not his. You're mine!" If it weren't for how strongly she felt she would be embarrassed to be sitting on the floor like a small child throwing a tantrum.
"Rab touches me all the time," Bellatrix said snippily, "You've never had a problem with it before."
"You're not wearing Rab's brand on your arm!" The tears were pouring hotly over her cheeks now, and she was ashamed of them. You've already given yourself to him, Bellatrix, don't you see?
"I'd pledged myself to him long before you were born," the dark witch said in an emotionless tone.
Flinching as if she'd been struck, Hermione let out a low sob. It was like all of her fight had been snapped out of her, and all that was left was the pain. She buried her face in her hands and cried openly.
"Stop." There was a brush at the top of her head, and then the pleasant tingling that happened whenever Bellatrix touched her. Her hands were pulled away from her face, and she peered miserably up at the older witch.
"You l-l-love him." She whispered brokenly.
Bellatrix sighed, "I do- no, stop that," she said hurriedly when Hermione cried out, "- I do love him. But not the same way that I love you. You're my everything, Doveling. You're my whole world."
"A-a-and you're m-mine." Hermione wheezed, "But I can't stand it. The way you look at him, Bellatrix. It's like he means everything to you. I can't compete with that. I'm not the Dark Lord."
"You don't have to compete with him."
Hermione's cheeks were scalding, "I don't want to share you."
Bellatrix arched an eyebrow, "And you won't. The Dark Lord rewards his followers with caresses sometimes, but it's never more than a touch here or there. It never goes beyond that, Doveling, I promise you. Not even my husband is allowed to touch me. Only you."
"I don't like that you have a husband either," Hermione grumbled. "I just want you to myself, Bella. Why can't you just be mine?"
Eyes softening, Bellatrix smoothed the brunette's curls away from her face, and cradled her head in her hands. "I am yours. Completely." Her thumb swiped away one of Hermione's tears.
"If the Dark Lord ordered you to kill me, would you do it?"
"That would never happen," Bellatrix said it with so much vehemence that Hermione recoiled.
Still, she persisted, "But if he did. If he said it was the only way to win the war… would you do it?"
"Of course not," Bellatrix snapped.
Something eased inside Hermione. She relaxed into Bellatrix's hold. "And if I decided not to kill Uncle Albus?" she continued. "If I decided to fight with the Order of the Phoenix. Would you still love me?"
For a moment she thought she had pushed too far. She could feel Bellatrix's emotions war within her own stomach. Anger, helplessness, something else she couldn't even name.
"I will always love you," Bellatrix said at last, her dark eyes bore unblinkingly into Hermione's brown ones. "No matter what foolish thing you do. Because as much as I am yours," she slid one hand down to grasp Hermione's chin gently, "you are mine."
Hermione felt a current of need go through her, "Yours," she promised.
"And you can't shut me out without an explanation anymore," Bellatrix said then. Her eyes growing uncertain, "I can't stand it. Do you know what it's like to not be able to feel you? To hear you? To know that you're doing it voluntarily?"
She was shaking, Hermione realized. Guilt flooded her as she realized what effect she had on the other witch. Slowly, she eased up onto her knees, and wrapped her arms around Bellatrix.
I won't, she promised the other witch internally. Not like that, not again. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking...
Bellatrix relaxed into her hold, letting out the smallest cry as she rested her cheek against Hermione's shoulder.
"I can't live without you, Dove," her thoughts were raw and desperate, "I won't!" Her arms wrapped around Hermione's waist, holding tightly as if afraid that Hermione would leave her right then and there.
She felt even guiltier as she felt a stab of satisfaction go through her. No matter how loyal Bellatrix was to him, she was bound to Hermione. And that was something no one could take away from them.
You won't have to, Hermione promised. We'll figure it out. She rested her chin on Bellatrix's head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. It always amazed her how complete she felt when she was with the other witch. "I love you so much," she said, hugging her tighter.
Bellatrix squeezed back, "I love you so much," she said in a broken whisper. "I'll never betray you, I promise, no matter what. Please… please don't-"
"I won't," Hermione vowed again. "We'll figure this out."
Bellatrix nodded, her relief flooding both of them.
Hermione rocked a little, trying to calm both of them. It was hard to discern which emotions were hers and which were Bellatrix's.
I don't know if I can do it.
"Do what?"
She bit her lip, Kill him.
Bellatrix was quiet, but she kept her arms locked around the younger girl.
He's my uncle. I love him, and I know he loves me.
She leaned her head back and gazed up into Hermione's eyes. Whatever she found there seemed to satisfy her. "Whatever you decide, I'll help you."
Hermione smirked, "Even if I decide to go on the run?" She didn't want to push too hard by suggesting anything else. Not yet.
The dark witch nodded seriously. "Then I'll be your secret keeper. There's no one else I'd trust to keep you safe."
Hermione let out a sad laugh, and bent to kiss her.
They never did get around to training.