Murder Most Horrid
Chapter 45: Repercussions
What happened next was somewhat hazy, as Bellatrix had constantly drifted in and out of consciousness. Apparently, Jack had summoned a Muggle device called an 'Ambulance' which was basically another version of the Muggle death-machine which made a lot of noise. Jack had made up some cock and bull story of her having fallen off the first story balcony. She supposed that would have to do and it was not as if she had been in any position to protest. In truth, she should be happy enough to had come through the apparation with all her limbs still attached.
In this 'Ambulance', there were Muggle 'healers' who poked and prodded her. They pierced her skin with a needle and attached her to a plastic bag filled with fluids. She had been hooked to some sort of device which, Jack later told her, measured her heartbeat and had been given all sorts of Muggle medicine. It was quite an unnerving experience. Worst of all was the restricting mask which had been put over her mouth and nose. Jack, whom had ridden to the hospital with her on the ambulance, told her that she was struggling so much they had to tie her to the stretched with wrist straps.
Though she had to admit she had quite enjoyed something called 'morphine'. In fact, she had loudly complained that she wanted to have 'more phine' administered. She cringed slightly; that joke had actually seemed funny when she was still high on the stuff.
Annoyingly enough, they had taken Bellatrix to a Muggle hospital of all things. She supposed they had meant well, but being poked and prodded by Muggle quacks was just the perfect ending to an already horrible day.
There were bruises, bumps and scratches all over her body, but those were the least of her concerns. Through her haze, she could hear the Muggle doctors discussing broken bones, a bad concussion, internal bleeding and a punctured lung. Most worrying was the phrase 'prep her for immediate surgery'; bloody bastard Muggles were going to carve her up like a Yuletime dinner!
Fortunately for her, Andromeda had given Emma a portkey which led right into her living room should Emma want to discuss wedding related business. Immediately, Andromeda contacted the Wounded Wizard Recovery Team, a quick-response team of healers and obliviators, and they had managed to recover Bellatrix before she could be carted her off into surgery. Since her injuries were of a mundane rather than magical nature, the healers could easily treat her back at the Granger residence.
Bones were healed and bleedings were stopped with the flick of a wand; the healing magics had done wonders for her head and had gotten rid of those unsightly stitches on her face. However, healers could only do so much; she'd be stiff and aching for days to come. Andromeda had been worked out of the door by the healers, telling her that Bellatrix needed rest above anything else now.
Currently, she lay exhausted and in pain in the darkened guestroom of the Granger residence, recuperating, but now facing what was perhaps the more harrowing of all; Hermione's ire.
Hermione had been attending a marathon of meetings at the Ministry, and her parents had trouble getting in touch with her. Apparently, Pius' secretary had been blocking owl messages so Hermione had only found out just now.
And she was furious.
"Honestly, I'm fine, pet!" Bellatrix tried, but she never stood a chance.
"The fact that you're one big bruise speaks otherwise," Hermione crossed her arms. "Don't you ever take a stupid risk like that again!"
Bellatrix shook her head. "It was a calculated risk. Getting hit by that thing was just... bad luck."
"Bad luck?!" Hermione exclaimed. "Bad luck, she says! If you had bothered to pay even the slightest bit of attention to the Muggle world, you'd know that standing in the middle of the road is DANGEROUS!"
Bellatrix grimaced as she shifted to sit up straighter. "And here I thought werewolf killers were the most dangerous of all."
Immediately, the dark witch could kick herself. Flippancy at a time like this was something Hermione never appreciated. "Stop it, Belle!" Hermione sighed. "I don't want to become a widow before I'm even married!"
"I didn't think that…"
"That's just it! You didn't think!" Hermione exclaimed. "You didn't think for one second about the people who love you and want you to come home safely. How could you be so moronic as to go after him alone?!"
"What do you want to hear?" Bellatrix hissed and tried to raise herself, only to fall back to the bed with a grimace. "I fucked up. There. Happy now? Bellatrix Black. Fucked. Up. Worse yet, I got a rookie killed because I fucked up! Is that what you wanted to hear? I don't have any leads left whatsoever and it's six days to a full moon. Everybody I care about will be in danger by then! Do you think that makes me feel good about myself? DO YOU?! Ow!" she cried in pain as her ribs protested.
Hermione's expression softened considerably. "I'm sorry, I…"
"No, don't be," sighed Bellatrix. "You have every right to be angry. My cases aren't usually this… action-packed. Then again, nothing is usual about this case. I'll tell you what, though..."
"What?"
"Told you those Muggle cars were steel death-machines," Bellatrix smirked, making Hermione laugh in spite of herself. "What did the Department say?"
Hermione closed her eyes. "I spoke to Jimmy at your office. They're sending in obliviators to take care of any witnesses. They took constable Green's body to the morgue and they've made it look like the Muggle died in the crash."
"Well, it seems others cleaned up the mess I made," Bellatrix spoke bitterly. "I'll be good as new in a day or two, pet. No need to worry."
"Jimmy also wanted me to give you this," Hermione said and handed Bellatrix a closed envelope. The dark witch sighed; she didn't have to open it to know what the letter would say. Bellatrix grimaced while her stiffened arm protested in pain. The letter in hand, she tore the wax seal open and read the letter.
Her expression immediately darkened. The letter said exactly what she had expected. Apparently picking up on her distress, Hermione asked her what was in the letter.
"The higher-ups," Bellatrix hissed. "They think I'm too involved personally and... too emotionally compromised... to continue heading the investigation."
"Can they just do that?" Hermione asked.
Bellatrix shook her head. "Yes," said the dark witch. "I'm be the Super. I'm the one who assigns cases for Magical Homicides and that includes myself. However, that means nothing when the highers have lost confidence in my ability to find and capture Creed."
"What?" Hermione's eyes grew wide. "How could they say that?!"
"How could they not?! A young constable lies dead on a stab in the morgue... Magic was used in front of Muggles... Need I go on? They elevated Creed to a class five threat, thus automatically putting my case under auror jurisdiction," Bellatrix narrowed her eyes as anger started to overtake her. "They have 'graciously' offered me a role of consultant under the new lead investigator due to my supposedly invaluable insights."
The shock was apparent on Hermione's face. Well, at least she wasn't angry with her anymore. That was a plus. "Belle," Hermione said down on the bed next to her and lay a hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry."
In her mind, she could understand their decision. This enter case had grown over her head; the entire UK wizarding world feared going out at night because of Creed. It was only a matter of time before the higher-ups would escalate this. Still, her intellect fought with her wounded pride, and pride needed an outlet.
Bellatrix let out a growl while crumpling the letter in a fist. In one swift movement, she threw it across the room in a fit of rage. "I HAVE NEVER BEEN TAKEN OFF A CASE IN MY ENTIRE FUCKING LIFE!"
Instantly, she regretted her sudden movement as her aching muscles and bruised ribs protested. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. When she opened her eyes again, she found Hermione sitting close to her, holding her hand while silently locking eyes with hers. Concern, not sympathy; Hermione loved her too much to pity her.
"I should consider myself lucky. They would be well within their rights to have me fired," Bellatrix shook her head, immediately feeling her muscles contort into vicious little knots. "I am emotionally compromised I've made the same mistake Burton made so long ago. I should have called for back-up, but I was afraid that might have tipped off Creed in some way. Constable Green paid the price for my mistake. I suppose it's time for me to leave field-work behind and focus entirely on administrative tasks. I seem to be better at it these days."
She didn't mean to sound bitter or full of bile, but feeling like one big bruise and being bombarded with mental images of seeing constable Green grasping his cut throat whenever she closed her eyes didn't do much to dispel the notion.
"Hm, what happened to the arrogant bitch I fell in love with?" Hermione whispered while stroking her dark curls. "She was here a moment ago."
"Arrogant, hm?"
"Sorry, did I say arrogant?" Hermione grinned before kissing her soon-to-be wife on the forehead. "I meant to say 'self-assured'."
Bellatrix muttered underneath her breath. "Not so assured of herself currently."
Hermione looked away for a moment, a doubtful look crossing her gentle features. It seemed as if she wanted to say something, but wondering if she should.
The dark witch cocked her head sideways. "Pet?"
Hermione said nothing, but stepped over to the dresser where she kept her toiletries. From a glance, Bellatrix could see the usual staple of lady-things; perfume, shampoo, deodorant, those foamy soaps Hermione liked, as well as a velvet pouch. Hermione hesitated for a moment, lowered her gaze slightly, pulled a single potion bottle from the pouch and put it on top of the dresser. The potion bottle was not labeled, but inside of it was a sickly purple colored liquid.
The dark witch's eyes grew wide. "What the... is that what I think it is?!" she hissed angrily.
"Temptation," Hermione whispered, her smile easing Bellatrix's worst fears. "I kept one bottle. As a reminder that I almost let Insoma destroy me. I've been clean for four years, all the poison flushed out of my system for just as long. But still, not a day goes by when I don't feel the cravings. I've come to terms with the fact that I'll never be completely rid of it and that part of me will always be 'tainted', as it were."
Bellatrix shook her head. "You're not tainted."
Hermione turned to look at her, tears brimming in her eyes. "But I am. I will never be the same again and that's all of my own doing. All I can do is live with it. Some days are worse than others. When I'm stressed or worried or angry, the cravings becomes worse. I just take out the bottle, put it on the counter and stare at it. I have to look my enemy in the eye to defeat it. Does that make sense?"
Bellatrix nodded. "I think it does. Look, I... I wanted to take down Creed to badly. For you. For my family. I... I lost sight."
For a moment, she wondered if she should tell what she had found at Creed's lair, but decided against it. Let Hermione enjoy blissful ignorance for a bit longer.
"I know," said Hermione as she put the bottle away, placing it in the pouch and replacing it in the dress. "I'm sorry for being angry with you. You must feel bad enough."
Bellatrix closed her eyes and let out a wry chuckle. "Merlin, we're a pair of horrible human wrecks, aren't we? We were made for each other, pet."
"I think we need to talk about something else," Hermione smiled at her and moved to lay down next to her, slightly on top of her. "I want to hold you…"
"Ow, ribs, RIBS!" Bellatrix protested when Hermione squeezed a little too tightly after cuddling against her, lying her head in the perfect position to nuzzle her neck.
"Sorry," Hermione muttered while she settled in such a way to make the dark witch more comfortable."
"Long day?" Bellatrix asked.
Hermione stretched next to her. "Just a horrid meeting. Then getting a call from dad that my girlfriend was taken to the hospital. And scolding said girlfriend back at home. You cost me a lot of energy today."
"Just today?" Bellatrix chuckled. "I need to put in more effort. So, what shall we talk about, hm?"
"Wedding things," Hermione closed her eyes and briefly kissed Bellatrix's neck before burying her face in dark curls. "What dresses are we going to wear?"
"Dresses?" Bellatrix chuckled. "Do you see me wearing a dress?"
"What are you talking about? You're almost alwayswearing a dress! It's common wizarding fashion."
Bellatrix shrugged, immediately hissing in pain. "But not a white wedding dress! That's, well, false advertising, I suppose."
"I keep saying that you need to wear trousers more often," said Hermione, sounding increasingly comfortable and drowsy. "Maybe a nice snazzy suit?"
"Heh," Bellatrix smirked. "Not really my style. Maybe we should visit madam Malkin. Find something neat. Any thoughts on where you want to hold our wedding? What about Malfoy Manor? They have a rather lovely rear garden."
"Hm," Hermione said. "The manor would be great, but I doubt Lucius will be happy to have my Muggle family attend."
"That's a fair point," said Bellatrix. "Any other suggestions?"
"Promise you won't laugh?"
"Promise."
"The Burrow."
The dark witch laughed, causing her ribs to protest.
"You promised!"
"Sorry, pet," said Bellatrix. "But that was a preposterous suggestion. I'm sure the Weasleys would be delighted to host the wedding, but I do want Cissy, Lucius and Draco to attend. And then there's a little matter of your Muggle family... in an obviously magical place. Why have them attend the wedding if they're all going to have to be obliviated anyway?"
Hermione groaned slightly, sound more and more tired. "I'm not sure, Belle. We need a place that's both Muggle and magical. I don't want to force you to abandon wizarding tradition, but at the same time, I do want my family to attend."
"Difficult, pet. That's going to be difficult," Bellatrix said. "Its probably wisest to let Andy and Emma figure this one out. Pet? Peeeetttt?"
Bellatrix's coos were answered with the regular breathing of a Hermione who was very much asleep. Actually, she felt like she could do with a nap herself. For a moment, she simply lay next to Hermione; after a day like today, being held by a loved one was just what she needed.
The dark witch was about to drift off into sleep herself when there was a slight knock on the door before it cracked open. "Bellatrix?" sounded Emma as she poked her head through the door. "There is a certain… creature here to see you."
"Ah, that must be Dinky," Bellatrix whispered as to not wake Hermione. Though the girl was a tight sleeper, she didn't want to push her luck. "Send her in, please."
Dinky was smart enough to notice the situation and her stride turned into a sneak until she sat on a chair next to the bed. The dark witch had brought her in to dictate her paperwork to. Green's superior and his family would want to know what happened to him. Bellatrix still held on to Hermione and started to stroke her soft long hair while dictating in whispers. "Dinky, take note of date and time. Following the lead described in the previous record, acting-detective Bellatrix Black made contact with constable Green of Whyteleafe regarding the suspect delivery address uncovered after..."
Dinky dutifully jotted down her words for what would be her last report while on this case, including a rather exaggerated account of Green's bravery. When done, Hermione was still sleeping next to her and Dinky quickly withdrew from the darkened bedroom. Calm and comforted by the soft bed and Hermione's embrace, the dark witch felt her eyelids grow heavy. Sleep. Yes, sleep, that was what she needed right now.
She had almost fallen into Morpheus' embrace when she suddenly heard the door open and close, followed by the sound of tiny feet belonging to a little girl trying to be sneaky.
The dark witch cracked her eyes open to find a tearful and worried Charlotte. "Hm, kitten," Bellatrix croaked due to her own fatigue.
"Jack and Emma didn't want me to go upstairs, but I slipped away when they weren't paying attention," whispered Charlotte.
"Have you been listening at the door?" Bellatrix asked.
A sharp intake of breath, an unwanted admission of guilt. Then came the downcast eyes and the reluctant nod; she'd seen it so many times before.
"It's alright, kitten," Bellatrix closed her eyes and shifted slightly. "Just be quiet. Let Hermione sleep. How much have you heard?"
"Everything," spoke Charlotte. "That you're not on the case anymore. That the wolfman hurt you badly. That Hermione stares at something sometimes."
"Ah, that," Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Look, that's something Hermione is deeply ashamed about. Don't mention it to anyone, do you hear me? You can keep a secret, right?"
To her credit, Charlotte stole a look at Hermione before nodding with a sad smile. "Bella? If you're not longer on the case... what's going to happen to me? Am I going to be taken somewhere else? Am I..." A slight sob escaped from her while tears fell from watery eyes.
The dark witch let out a heavy sigh. "No. You're staying right here. And I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I'll make damn sure Creed will never touch a hair on your head. You know I always keep my promises, right?"
Charlotte nodded sadly. "I'm scared," she whispered before climbing onto the bed and cuddling up against Bellatrix. The dark witch grimaced as her arm grazed some still bruised and sensitive parts of her body, but Charlotte quickly settled in. Reluctantly, Bellatrix patted the girl's curly head.
"I know, kitten. I know," she returned before sleep started to overtake her senses once more.
Relatively early the next morning, sitting wrapped in a blanket and propped up against the back of the sofa, Bellatrix stared at three thick file folders lying on the table in front of her; all the information she had gathered on Creed, all the research Magical Homicides had done, all the leads she had followed up on. Ready to be transferred to the new chief investigator who was now sitting in Jack's reading chair.
"Quaint little home," he spoke in a gravely voice. Alastor Moody looked very much out of place in the Granger household, with his scarred face, magical eye and perpetually dusty coat. His walking stick leaned against the wall while he awkwardly held a cup of tea.
Before he could say anything, Emma poked her head through the door. "Would you like another cup of tea, mister Moody?"
Alastor Moody quickly shook his head and held up his free hand. Emma smiled and withdrew.
"Charming lady," spoke Moody in a voice which obviously meant the exact opposite.
Bellatrix was feeling anything but fine. Her muscles had stiffened considerably and her body was perpetually cold. The only reason she was out of bed today was because she didn't want to suffer the embarrassment of handing over the case while bed-ridden. "That's everything I have on Creed," Bellatrix spoke softly. "You'll have to ask Barty for the autopsy reports. Those are filed separately."
As embarrassing as this was, at least she wasn't handing over the case to Sirius. She would have never have lived that down.
"Black," started Moody, apparently sensing her foul mood. "If you're looking for blame, there's plenty of it to go around. True, you should have handed over the case to a subordinate the moment it became clear you and your loved ones were personally involved. But you also should have been given proper auror support the moment we realized just how dangerous Creed is."
"Hindsight is 20/20, Moody," Bellatrix shook her head.
Moody let out a gruff grunt. "Department politics gets in the way of the justice it's supposed to serve! I've seen it far happen too many times during my career. The Department has been collectively pissing about over jurisdiction, ego, obsolete nonsensical rules or technicalities while criminals give us the slip. Black, you managed to thwart Creed a total of four times! If we had supported you with a proper team of aurors, once would have been enough."
Bellatrix nodded grimly. No matter which way she looked at it, this felt like a crushing personal defeat. She and Hermione had been chased from their home, her family had been threatened, and in end she could do nothing to stop it.
"So why didn't I get auror support?" Bellatrix asked. "Sirius only gave me back-up when it was already too late."
Alastor Moody grumbled slightly. "Sirius recommended against it."
"Of course," Bellatrix fought the urge to spit on the floor.
"An error in judgment," growled Moody. "The rivalry between you and Sirius is well known throughout the entire Department. For what it's worth, I consider you a better professional than I do Sirius. That's why I want you on my team during the investigation, Black. My aurors respect you for the role you played in taking down the Purity Front. And we must forget that, due to your efforts, Creed is on the run without any resources left. But we still have to track him down. And I can use someone as clever as you to help with that."
Hearing Moody praise her conduct over that of Sirius was not only pleasing, but felt very much like a vindication. Oh, she was going to give her complete support to Moody's efforts, but she hated the fact that she could no longer be in control.
"One matter we must discuss is the girl, Charlotte Puckle," said Moody while scratching his scarred chin while his magical eye roved about the room. "She is still an important witness when Creed's case goes to trial and, as such, in danger."
"The girl stays with us," Bellatrix spoke with a resolution which surprised even her. In fact, she had spoken out without even thinking about it.
Moody grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that. I'd rather not uproot the girl, she safe with you and miss Granger and I don't have the manpower to spare."
The dark witch nodded. At least she had won a small victory. "What are your plans, exactly?" Bellatrix asked.
"First of all, you are going to focus on your health for the time being," said Moody. "Look at me. I might not seem the picture of health now, but it pays to know your limits. We will discuss our course of action further when you're up and about. Thank you for the files and the tea, but I must take my leave."
He eagerly put down the cup and slid the file folders into a leather carry-case. Moody grabbed his walking stick, tipped his hat at her and started to walk towards the fireplace.
"Wait," said Bellatrix. "You still haven't told me what you are planning. If I'm going to be involved..."
Moody said nothing at first, throwing floo powder into the fireplace. Right before he stepped into the flames, he turned to her and shot her a grin. "Black, I am planning the biggest bloody manhunt the UK wizarding world has ever seen."
And so, Bellatrix was left alone in the living room. A few moments later, Emma once again popped in with her pot of tea. "Oh, has he gone already? Come on, Bella, let's get you back to bed. If Hermione comes back and finds you downstairs, there'll be hell to pay."
Indeed. Poor Hermione had taken it upon herself to go to the Muggle-hell known as Tesco's. It was hard to imagine that Charlotte actually wanted to go with her. No doubt Hermione would be in a foul mood when she returned, and it was not as if she wanted to be out of bed right now.
"Bella?" Emma asked. "Are you alright?"
Bellatrix thought for a moment. "No," she replied while Emma started to guide her up the stairs. "I really am not.
Having slept most of the morning away and finding herself waking up in the late afternoon, Bellatrix stood in the hallway looking out of the window while wearing a bathrobe. Aching for a drink, she had fetched a glass of water from the bathroom in their guestroom and had taken it upon herself to go for a bit of a stroll. She was feeling better compared to the day before, but was still rather stiff and suffered from sudden pangs of pain. Still, it was nice to be on her feet for a bit.
She took a sip from her glass of water and watched their owl Horus taunting Crookshanks in the rear garden. The two of them actually appeared to be squabbling. After taking another sip, she was suddenly confronted with an angry voice coming from the landing.
"Belle?"
The dark witch turned around to see a rather irate Hermione holding a laundry hamper. "Belle, what are you doing out of bed?"
"Good morning to you too, pet," Bellatrix smirked. "Just stretching my legs. I feel much better."
"The healer said you needed at least two days of bedrest. Standing in the hallway is not bedrest," Hermione reasoned while putting down the hamper so she could cross her arms and look properly authoritative. Unfortunately for her, Bellatrix thought she looked mostly really cute.
"Oh, don't be like that, pet," Bellatrix stepped over to her, grimacing as one of the muscles in her right leg pulled. "Honestly, I'm fine."
"We agreed that the only legitimate reason for you to be out of bed today is to go to the bathroom and nothing else!" Hermione narrowed her eyes.
"Pet, I..." started the dark witch, but she should have known better from the start.
Any attempt at reason failed when Hermione raised her chin, held out her arm to point at the door to the bedroom and hissed in an icy tone. "Get. Back. To. BED!"
The dark witch sighed, quickly lay her hands on Hermione's cheeks and kissed her forehead. To her credit, Hermione's forceful glare never wavered as she slipped back into the bedroom. Having had enough sleep for one day, Bellatrix fluffed her pillows so she could sit up comfortably. The curtains were still closed, but they flew open with a quick flick of her wand which had been conveniently placed on the nightstand in the penguin-wandglass.
If there was one good thing about being being bedridden, it was that she could finally start reading the latest Witch Versus Wild book which she had bought on release no less than four months ago and simply hadn't gotten along to reading yet. In this installment, Angelina was dropped in the middle of the freezing Himalaya mountains with nothing but a wand and a small box of raisins. In the first three chapters alone, she had staved off undercooling by heating up rocks in a small cave with her wand and had been forced to dodge a herd of man-eating yeti.
She didn't really know why she liked the Witch Versus Wild books so much, as there was plenty of sensationalist bollocks in them. But Angelina Thrills was everything Gilderoy Lockheart wasn't and seemed genuine enough. Bellatrix also had to admit that there was something deeply alluring about a sexy woman in bikini wrestling an alligator into submission.
Bellatrix had just reached a part in the fourth chapter where Angelina used magic to enlarge the raisins and was using them to build a makeshift igloo, when Hermione stepped into the room holding a bowl on a plate containing a nice-smelling broth.
"Hey, Belle," Hermione said softly. "I thought you might be hungry, I've brought you some chicken soup."
Truth be told, she was feeling rather hungry. She put down her book, took the plate and let a spoonful of soup slide down her throat. "It's good."
"Charlotte helped cutting the chicken," said Hermione. "She wanted me to tell you that."
"That explains the big chunks of chicken in the soup," Bellatrix lifted her spoon which had a big square-shaped piece of chicken on it.
Hermione chuckled briefly. "Mum wouldn't let her use the kitchen knife, so she had to use a plastic one."
"Points for effort," Bellatrix smirked before popping the large piece of chicken into her mouth.
"Narcissa and Andy will be coming round later," said Hermione. Immediately, Bellatrix put down her soup while rolling her eyes.
"Oh, Merlin, they'll be fussing over me all evening," Bellatrix sighed. She supposed she should be happy that her sisters cared about her so much, but she always hated pity-parties.
"They'd be sitting in the living room right now if I hadn't told them that you needed your sleep," said Hermione. "But you know as well as I that I can't stall them forever. And really, I wouldn't want to."
Bellatrix grimaced and picked up her bowl of soup again. After a few spoons, she turned to Hermione. "Different subject, please."
Hermione gave her that lovely warm smile of hers. "How about more wedding things, then? Mum and Andy are still looking for a good location, and knowing how many people will attend will help the search."
Her pet fished a pen and notepad from the nightstand. "Let's both take a count of the people we want to invite. Why don't you start?"
Bellatrix took another spoonful of soup before putting down the bowl. "Well, Andy and Ted. Dora. Cissy and Lucius. Draco and Pansy. Bombur and Milly. Jimmy and Miko. Petunia. Bill. Barty and Skjel. Jensen. I think that's it, really."
"That's sixteen people on your side," Hermione said while writing down names. "As for me, well, knowing my family all of them will want to attend. Harry and Ginny. Ron. Luna. The Patils. Colin. Susan. Hannah. Dean and Seamus. All the Weasleys are going to attend. Dumbledore, of course. Oh, and I want to invite McGonagall... stop giving me that look, Belle! I know you hate her, but I do want to invite her. All my coworkers want to attend."
Bellatrix let out a sigh. "How many, pet? Just tell me how many."
"Well, uhm," Hermione bit her lip. "It's a bit more compared to your sixteen, Belle."
The dark witch narrowed her eyes. "You're being evasive, Hermione. Specifics, please."
"Uhm, it's... currently at one hundred and twenty-three people," Hermione replied.
Immediately, Bellatrix let out a groan and threw herself back onto the pillow. "And this from a girl who doesn't considers herself very popular."
"It's mostly Grangers on the list," said Hermione in an unapologetic manner. "I have a rather big extended family. Okay, for bridesmaids we have Charlotte, of course. Becky and Lucy want in on it too."
"Your cousins, right?" Bellatrix said. "I remember them."
Hermione's expression turned rather cheeky. "Dora has expressed interest as well."
"Dora?!" said Bellatrix. "My niece Dora?!"
Hermione nodded. "I think she's just looking for an excuse to wear a pretty dress. I say we let her."
Bellatrix chuckled to herself. Despite all the issues surrounding it constantly cropping up, the dark witch was very much looking forward to their wedding. Odd, really. The last time she had been betrothed, the very thought of her then upcoming wedding filled her with dread. Her marriage to Hermione would not be one of duty or expectations. Love really did make all the difference.
Of course, she wasn't kidding herself; they were still in danger. Just because she was no longer in charge of the investigation, it wouldn't mean Creed would suddenly stop hunting them. Someone who had such an obsessive nature would never let up until stopped. And yet, she hadn't felt this calm and relaxed since this whole mess began. At least being taken off the case was good for something.
"Now that you have no more caseload, you can help me write the wedding invitations," Hermione said. "Fifty-fifty split. I should leave you to rest. Is there something you need before I go downstairs?" Hermione asked. Oh, she so innocently set herself up.
"Well, well, well," Bellatrix smirked. "I know what I need. You. You lying on top of a yeti-pelt in front of the fireplace. Hair loose and completely naked safe for a pair of long velvet gloves."
Hermione cocked her head sideways. "Belle, you complete and utter horndog."
The dark witch innocently raised an eyebrow. "You asked. I answered. And I think you should be naked more often."
The young shook witch shook her head, obviously pretending to be exasperated. "When you're no longer bedridden..." she whispered and brushed lips with her.
"And the velvet gloves?" Bellatrix adopted a rather pouty expression. "I did get rather hurt."
Hermione grinned and slid two fingers across Bellatrix's cheek. "If you're good and stay in bed like you're supposed to? Then definitely."
"Why wait?" the dark witch husked, wrapped her arms around Hermione's waist and pressed her cheek against hers. Hermione moaned slightly when Bellatrix moved from nibbling on her earlobe to nipping on the skin of her neck. Unfortunately, just as she had slid a hand up Hermione's shirt, a rebellious muscle in her calf decided to seize and cramp up unexpectedly and viciously. The dark witch let out a cry of pain and let herself fall back on the bed, gritting her teeth.
"That's why waiting is probably a good idea," said Hermione while rubbing her neck. "Oh, great, that love bite on my neck is going to leave a mark."
Bellatrix smirked. "Don't expect any sympathy from me, considering your teeth left plenty of marks on my breasts last time."
Seeing the red on Hermione's cheeks made her chuckle. "A blush? You weren't blushing then, pet. Far from it. Nipping very eagerly, I'd say. Not that I'm complaining, mind you."
"Ahum, well," Hermione scraped her throat. "I admit I got a bit carried away. Anyway, it's probably best if we put any lovemaking on hold until we no longer run the risk of your legs suddenly seizing up. You're likely to knock me unconscious with your knee."
There was humor in Hermione's voice. Disappointing, yes, but perhaps it was for the best. It was midday, after all, and everybody was at home and awake today. Hermione moved to kiss her forehead. "Eat your soup, Belle. And rest. We'll talk later, hm?"
"Hm."
The sound of someone running up the stairs could be heard in the background. A few moments later, Charlotte's head popped into the room. "Has she eaten it yet?"
"She has," Bellatrix replied. "Come on in, kitten."
"Did you like it?" Charlotte asked eagerly. "Oh, I think I should warn you. The plastic knife I used to cut the chicken broke and a big shard of plastic is missing. Eat carefully!"
Bellatrix made a face at the remainder of the soup. "Well, it's the thought that counts, I guess."
