A/N: A note on reading the 'Pensieve Scenes'
Scenes from the past will be written in bold
'Present Hermione' will be moving, thinking, commenting, etc. in italics
Hermione resisted the urge to run as she left the stone gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office. Her heart was thumping almost painfully as she clutched the velvet bag that contained her new pensieve. She searched her mind for a place where she could use it in private. The common room was full, and ever since Lavender had begun to spend her free time wrapped around Ron's neck, Parvati had begun to retire early to the dormitory.
I need to find somewhere private, she thought when she reached the Grand Staircase. Immediately she thought of the Boathouse, and then she quickly shoved that thought out of her head. If Pringle could find her there…
Another idea entered her mind, The Dark Tower. She chewed the inside of one cheek as she thought, I've never known anyone who's gone there. But then I've never known anyone who wanted to.
She started down the staircase. It was the best idea she had at the moment, so she was going to use it.
A fog has descended onto Hogwarts Castle, and as Hermione looked across the Transfiguration Courtyard her skin prickled with unease.
Don't be ridiculous, she told herself sternly, Hogwarts is the safest place in the world. Still, she had to admit that the scene before her was the embodiment of spooky. The fog was thick and smoky, and the tower was barely visible through it. A quick look confirmed that she was alone, and she started across the courtyard, her eyes fixed on the tower as it slowly emerged.
"Alohomora!" She hissed as she reached the door. She darted in quickly, her heartbeat racing. "Homenum Revelio!" she pointed her wand upwards, and sighed in relief when the spell revealed that she was alone.
Good, she thought. She flicked her wand towards the lock, "Colloportus!" the bolt slid heavily into place, and while the fear she had been feeling melted away, her unease did not. Hermione turned and shivered as she peered into the darkness, "Lumos," she whispered. Her shoulders relaxed as the light illuminated the room and the staircase. With a last glance at the door, she moved closer to the stone staircase that spiraled to the upper levels, and began to climb.
The tower was as dank and gloomy as she remembered it. As she passed several floors she found the same rotting wood and trash, and the same feeling of disgust and dread filled her. I hated this place, she thought as she stepped onto the seventh level.
And yet, being here felt the closest to Bellatrix she had felt since her return. Harry and Ron had never been to the Dark Tower with her, she had only ever been with Bellatrix. And, now that she was back in Gryffindor, it was highly unlikely that she'd be back in Slytherin House anytime soon.
She remembered the childish glee that had come over Bellatrix when they visited; the way that she had examined every inch as if she wanted to memorize every part.
Hermione swung her arm around and gazed at the darkened cells.
'I don't think I could bear to be locked up,' Bellatrix's voice echoed in her head, 'I enjoy my freedom too much. I think it would kill me.'
Fourteen years, Hermione thought.
She wrenched her gaze away from the rusted bars and forced her mind onto something else.
It was freezing up here, fog pushed in through the broken windows, and her breath came out in little puffs of mist. She whipped her wand around, casting a sealing charm on each of the windows, and then she performed a heating spell. She tightened her grasp on the velvet bag and looked around for a way to get started.
There was a ruined desk that had been tipped onto its side in one corner and a chair that had been warped from the constant dampness. Hermione crossed the room and bent to examine them. She needed a work space, and if they were not in absolutely terrible condition she thought that she might be able to fix them.
The chair was steady enough; Hermione muttered a few spells to strengthen the wood and nodded in satisfaction. She cast a quick sanitation spell, just to be on the safe side, and ran her hand over the chair back. It would do.
The desk, however, was stained with mildew and was splintering with rot. Hermione frowned, and her nose itched horribly as she bent close to the wood. She felt as if her whole face needed to be scratched. With a grimace, she straightened, and continued her examination from afar.
This was the only desk that she had seen. If there were others, they had long since been reduced to splinters. She needed this desk. She could fix the mildew with a conditioning potion, and she was certain that Professor Sprout would be able to get rid of wood rot, but both would take time. She didn't want to wait.
She clutched the velvet bag tightly as she tried to think of a solution. Suddenly, a smile crossed her lips, and she pointed her wand.
The wood seemed as was being dipped in a vat of gold. The shiny metal streaked across the desk in strips as Hermione struggled to keep the incantation strong in her mind. At last, her work was complete. She flicked her wrist to make the desk stand up straight, and stepped back to admire her handiwork.
A desk made of solid gold. It was extravagant, she admitted to herself. Yet the surreal vision of a gold desk glimmering among the rot seemed somehow fitting. True, if she took it to a Goblin they would know within a second that it was transfigured, and therefore not real, but it was still an impressive sight. She scooted the chair over to the desk, and sat.
The basin was smooth in Hermione's hand as she slid it out of the bag and placed it before her. Her eyes skimmed the markings on the sides. Hesitantly, she raised her wand to her temple. She wasn't sure exactly what memory she wanted to see, and she didn't know exactly how this worked.
I want to see Bella, she thought. She focused on her memories of the two of them, and hoped that she was doing this correctly. One particular memory pushed forward, and she carefully opened her eyes. There, at the tip of her wand, floated the memory. The sight made her eyes widen. It was beautiful and luminous, far prettier than Harry described them. She lowered her wand to the basin, and at once the memory fell in.
It seemed as if there was suddenly more than just her memory in the pensieve. It seemed as if a silvery liquid was supporting the memory, and causing it to swirl gently around the edges of the basin. She watched it move with a look of wonder, and then took a deep breath. She closed her eyes, and thrust her head into the pensieve.
When Hermione opened her eyes, she found herself staring at herself. Her first instinct was to hide, to run, but then she remembered that she couldn't be seen. She was as free to move around as she wanted. So she cautiously drew closer to herself.
Hermione was seated in the Slytherin common room, chewing her lip as she stared intently at a passage in her textbook.
"I look like a Slytherin," Hermione thought.
"Put those away," came a familiar voice.
Hermione turned to see Bellatrix approach the table, and her chest swelled with emotion. It was right after Bellatrix had returned from Christmas. Right after Hermione had told her the truth.
"I can't," Hermione said, grinning up at her, "I'm in the middle of writing my essay for-"
"Not the essay for Flitwick!" Bellatrix groaned, "Hermione, your essay is already twice as long as mine," she gave Hermione a pointed look, "and mine is twice as long as it was supposed to be!"
"I'm almost done," Hermione said.
Bellatrix rolled her eyes, "Please, Hermione-" Hermione squeaked as Bellatrix ripped the parchment away from Hermione. Her eyes scanned the last few sentences that Hermione had written, and widened.
"You realize," she said slowly, fixing her gaze on Hermione, "that the assignment was on weather charms?"
"Of course I did!" Hermione said.
Bellatrix looked as if it was taking every bit of her willpower to keep from laughing, "Then why are you writing about bread?"
Hermione snatched the essay back, "I was linking the emergence of weather magic to the beginning of agriculture," she said defensively.
"Well, it looks great," Bellatrix said.
Hermione shook her head. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, "It's not done."
For a moment Bellatrix looked as though she might argue, and then she grinned broadly.
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked in surprise as Bellatrix dropped down into the chair beside her.
Bellatrix drew the chair nearer to Hermione, "Keeping you company," she moved so that her leg was flush against Hermione's, "If you don't object?" she asked lightly, her eyes the picture of innocence as she stared at Hermione.
"No," Hermione said carefully, "I don't object."
Bellatrix let out a noise that could almost be called a giggle, and scooted even closer. As Hermione struggled to return her focus to her schoolwork, Bellatrix studied her face in amusement.
"Do your friends work as hard as you do?" The ebony-haired witch asked.
"What friends?" Hermione asked distractedly as she flipped through one of the numerous books in front of her.
Bellatrix rolled her eyes, "You know, the ones you told me were your cousins," she leaned in so close that her lips brushed the edge of Hermione's ear, "the ones from the future."
Hermione blushed, and looked around nervously to make sure that no one could hear them. "No," she said quietly. She cleared her throat, "They don't have the same, commitment that I do."
Bellatrix reached out to stroke the edge of Hermione's cheek, and the brunette cast another cautious look around the room.
"You miss them," Bellatrix said this softly.
Hermione nodded, then looked quickly at Bellatrix, "But I have you," she said in a voice barely above a whisper.
Bellatrix took Hermione's hand, "Maybe we'll figure out how this time travel thing works," she said gently, "and then you can-"
Hermione smiled slightly, and squeezed Bellatrix's hand, "It's fine, Bella. I'm happy that it's you I'm with."
A smile spread across Bellatrix's face.
The two were quiet for a long time. Their hands remained clasped as Hermione stared at the ink bottle and Bellatrix stared at their hands.
"Would we get along?" Bellatrix asked, "Your future friends- Larry and John- would they like me?"
Hermione laughed, "Harry and Ron," she said. She looked at Bellatrix for a few moments, chewing her bottom lip as she did so.
"Yes," she said finally, "maybe not at first, they didn't like me at first," she said quickly, "but after a while I think they'd be happy to consider you their friend."
Bellatrix sighed, and stood, "Come on," she said, pulling Hermione to her feet.
"What? Bella, I can't jus-"
Bellatrix nodded, "Yes you can."
"But I need to put my things away," Hermione said, turning to collect her things.
Bellatrix made a sweeping motion over the cluttered table, and it was instantly bare.
"Where did you send it?" Hermione turned to her in a panic.
Bellatrix shrugged, "Relax, I sent it to my bed; I'll sort it out myself when we get back."
"I hadn't put the stopper back in the ink bottle yet," Hermione gritted.
This earned her a smirk, "That's why I sent it to my bed," Bellatrix said, "I guess that means I'll have to sleep with you tonight then."
Hermione groaned, but didn't protest as Bellatrix led her out of the common room.
Hermione followed behind them.
Bellatrix glided through the labyrinth of tunnels, her hand tightly clasping Hermione's.
"Bella," Hermione laughed, "slow down."
"We're almost there," Bellatrix breathed without slowing down.
They arrived, out of breath, at the end of a dark passage.
"This is where we're going?" Hermione asked with an incredulous look on her face.
Bellatrix shook her head, her face flushed from their quick pace, "Of course not," she said, an excited gleam in her eye. "I overheard Slughorn bragging to Professor Sprout that he was converting one of his storerooms into a greenhouse," she smiled, "I don't think Sprout was too impressed. She refused to give him a cutting from her Venomous Tentacula-"
"What does he have in there?" Hermione asked. She looked around her cautiously.
"Nothing yet!" Bellatrix said happily, "He's going to stock it with venomous plants to use in his poisons, but they won't be arriving until tomorrow," she grinned at Hermione as if this were the best news in the world.
Hermione cleared her throat, "I'm sorry, she said carefully, I still don't understand-"
Bellatrix grabbed her hand and threw herself at the solid wall at the end of the passage.
"Bella, no!" Hermione cried, bracing herself for the painful collision. Instead, they fell through the wall and onto a soft plush carpet.
'Just like Platform 9 and ¾,' Hermione told herself as she pushed through the barrier.
For a moment the two lay there, as Hermione panted in surprise. Finally, the brunette pulled herself up. "Is this?"
"It's pretty luxurious, eh?" Bellatrix asked, "Even the Black's have dirt in their greenhouses."
It was. Hermione looked around at the polished wooden counter-tops, the tapestry hangings that lined the walls, and the velvet armchair that sat before the large stone hearth. It looked more like a sitting room than a greenhouse.
Hermione stood, and pulled Bellatrix up, "He must be planning to redecorate," she said, checking to see if the carpet stretched across the whole chamber. It did. Her nose wrinkled in disdain.
I look like Bellatrix when I do that, Hermione noted.
"Let him worry about that," Bellatrix said, leading Hermione over to the armchair.
Hermione allowed herself to be pushed into the chair. She watched wordlessly as Bellatrix pulled the footstool close and took a seat.
Bellatrix smirked at her, "Isn't this better than studying?" she asked softly as she leaned forward and pressed her lips to Hermione's.
Hermione felt herself blush.
After a few minutes, Bellatrix pulled back and began to kiss Hermione's neck.
"Bella," the brunette's eyes were closed, "what if Slughorn-"
"He won't," Bellatrix said, rising to rest her cheek against Hermione's, "he's going to sleep through the night."
"How can you be sure?"
Bellatrix gave a low chuckle, "His pumpkin juice was spiked with a sleeping potion."
"Bella!" Hermione pulled away and stared at her.
Bellatrix's smirk never wavered, "Isn't it worth it?" She licked her lips slowly, and ran her hands up Hermione's thighs, "Wouldn't you like a break from the boathouse?"
Hermione appeared to be thinking about it, but then she nodded. A smile spread over her face as Bellatrix leaned forward to kiss her once again.
There was another long stretch, and then Bellatrix moved away, "What is it?" she asked, her eyes searching Hermione's.
"What is what?" Hermione asked, still dazed from the kissing.
Bellatrix smoothed her dark curls away from her face, "You're upset."
"No-"
"Yes," Bellatrix said, "I can feel it."
Hermione shook her head.
Bellatrix was up in a blur of motion, and then she slid into the armchair beside Hermione. It was a large armchair, but she was still pressed closely to the brunette. "I love you," she said gently.
Hermione nodded, "I love you, too."
"Then tell me what's wrong."
Hermione twisted so that she could meet Bellatrix's eyes. She searched them carefully, "Would you still love me if I was old?" she asked.
Bellatrix laughed, "What kind of question is that?" she asked, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh," she said quickly as Hermione tried to pull away, "I only meant- of course I would love you! I'll always love you, no matter how old you are," she didn't succeed in smothering all of her grin, but the sincerity in her voice mollified Hermione.
"What if I get sent back?" she asked, shivering as Bellatrix began to undo the buttons on her robes.
"To the future?" Bellatrix asked. At Hermione's nod, Bellatrix shrugged, "then I guess I'll have to go find you. Or you'll find me."
"Would you still love me if you were the older one?" Hermione asked. Her hands were buried in Bellatrix's robes.
Bellatrix nodded, "I'll love you no matter what. Older, younger, past, future," she ran her thumb along Hermione's jawline, "you're the one that I love unconditionally, and nothing will change that."
Hermione swallowed heavily, and Bellatrix grabbed her hand.
"We're the two brightest witches of all time," she said in an authoritative voice, "we'll find a way to be together. I promise."
Hermione smiled slowly, "Thanks."
Bellatrix leaned forward, and stroked Hermione's cheek. "Now," she said, pressing a soft kiss to Hermione's jawline, "can we get back to our lovely evening?"
Instead of answering, it was Hermione's chance to initiate the kiss.
Hermione watched for another moment, and then decided that it was time for her to return.
The cold was shocking as Hermione awoke. It had been so warm in her memory, but now that she had returned to the room at the top of the Dark Tower she was aware that her heating charm had worn off.
She slid the basin back into its velvet bag, and rose to leave.
A smile slid across her face as she navigated her way down the stone steps. Bellatrix's words were still ringing in her head.
"We'll find a way to be together, I promise."
A/N: Thanks for reading! And another huge Thank you to everyone who has left a review.
Please let me know if you found the format of the pensieve scene confusing, I am willing to keep experimenting.
Thanks again!