A/N - I do not own, or make any claim, to Harry Potter. I am merely playing in the great JK Rowling's world.
This fanfiction is my first so please take it easy on me. I will try to update every Sunday or Tuesday (acting like anyone is actually going to read my work). If I don't get any reviews within two weeks, I'm probably going to remove this story.
Summary: This story takes place in the seventh book, during the visit to the manor. The story itself will be centered on Hermione and her rise to darkness. I'm not sure about the pairing yet, but there will most certainly be one. Either Tomione or Dramione, not sure about how yet though. Enjoy! (rated M just to be safe)
Chapter 1: Her New Self
Hermione turned, staring sharply at herself, or what she thought was her. It seemed like a mix of her and that wretched cow's features. Still, she looked almost exactly like Bellatrix. There were only subtle traits of Hermione's. Her sharp cheekbones and posture remained the same.
She tried to focus on the sounds of footsteps echoing in the manor. The faint noise of horrified screaming still echoed in her head. She paced swiftly back and forth, but was finding it difficult to come up with any idea whatsoever. Bitterly, Hermione muttered, "They left me. I was never anything to them. Harry, and Ron..." Her heart clenched. Once, she had hopes of love with him. Of love with Ron. Turns out, it was all a farce. All fake.
"Bella," a soft voice whispered behind. Hermione twirled sharply, only to see a pale Narcissa Malfoy. Recalling Bella's attitude, Hermione tried for a wicked cackle, instead only making a raspy, bitter chuckle.
Hermione groaned inwardly. This would be her first real test. Would she be able to trick 'her' own sister? If she could, well, the possibilities would be endless. She quickly snapped her eyes to Narcissa, tilting her head slowly.
Coughing quietly, Hermione growled, "Cissy! How delightful to see you!"
Narcissa blinked. Twice. "Bella, are you okay?" Her form was rigid, seemingly nervous.
Hermione frowned. That wasn't right at all. Wasn't Narcissa Malfoy Bellatrix's sister? "I'm just peachy!" Hermione said awkwardly, swinging her hand upwards.
At Narcissa's look of shock, Hermione groaned. Her first try and she was already failing.
Taking a deep breath, she grinned insanely, "Leave now Cissy. Get out of my sight!"
Narcissa backed away, her frame trembling as she maneuvered herself out into the hallway.
Narissa leaned against the wall next to the door, taking small breaths. She mused out loud, "Bella seems kind of different today." Glancing towards the area one more time, she shuddered, before walking away.
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, her hand clutching at her springy black hair. Her first plan was to find out how to act like Bellatrix. Her tells, her cackles, her walk, she had to learn all of it. "Think, think, think." Hermione muttered. Straightening her posture, Hermione gracefully walked in her heels, step to step. Her muggle mother had enrolled her in ballroom dancing and shoe classes. Bellatrix had a confident posture, something that Hermione lacked.
Stepping in front of a mirror, she shyly peeked up. Coughing, Hermione stood straighter, her head pushed up. She opened her mouth and cackled harshly, her eyebrows raised in shock at the accurate description. She marvelled at the sight. Hermione Granger, the 'best friend' of Harry Potter and Ron Weasely, acting exactly like the infamous 'Bellatrix Lestrange'.
After practicing for a few more moments, she finally determined herself good enough to pass through the halls without gaining any extra attention. So long as she didn't have to talk to anybody.
Turning sharply on her heel, Hermione quickly pushed the door confidently, before strolling out. Walking through the manor was a new experience. While it seemed like it had once held beauty, the empty corridors were gloomy and dark.
Reaching her magic out in front of her, she spread her arms wide, before submerging herself completely in it. Sighing in bliss, Hermione floated upwards, her magic crackling angrily around her. After she opened her eyes, she stared at the color of her magic. It was once a bright blue color, filled with happiness and cheer. Now all she could see was dark purple, the kind used to define an emperor.
She felt her fingertips gracefully caressing the air, and she moaned out loud at the feeling of relief and comfort.
After descending to the ground, Hermione's eyes widened, as she contemplated over her color. Purple, that was a...a dark color. One associated with darker spells. She shrugged, her eyes drifting to the long windows above her.
Hermione had never hated dark spells. As long as it was magic, it was beautiful. Coming from a muggle world was hard. Seeing the beauty of Hogwarts, feeling the intensity in the air was surreal. Then came the shock. She was different. A mudblood. She would never truly belong.
Stopping at the wall, she turned, the upper corner of her mouth tilting upward. It was obvious. She would stay here. She would bring down the dark lord. She would become the most powerful. Harry and Ron would beg to be her friends. She wouldn't let them. Oh no she wouldn't. And she could learn from being dark. Hermione grinned proudly. Just the idea of having access to so many libraries made her mouth water.
Now, everything would change. Hermione would have a backup plan of course, perhaps a portkey keyed to her and only her. Endless ideas raced through her mind. First, she would gain a time turner. Sneak into the ministry and steal it. Practicing again and again, only to fine tune her skills.
Assimilating herself into the pureblood gatherings would be difficult. Her classes as a child would help surely, and she would bring power to Bellatrix Lestrange's name. Not only fear. Hermione could run the ministry, as a 'pureblood'. Everything seemed to be working out.
Turning the corner, she slammed into a tall, dark shape, before gaping upwards wildly. Schooling her expression, she grimaced, "Hello Dolohov."