A/n: I hope this story brings some distraction to the real world. Take care all.

Warning: this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated only for adults. Swearing & death. This story will contain mentions of mental illnesses, self harm and suicide. Please, please read responsibly. I will put the major warning before each chapter so you know what to expect. CHARACTER Death.

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognisable characters and No money has been made from this.

Enjoy...

Chapter Twenty

Fighter

I don't need you to save me

I don't need you to cure me

I don't need you and your antidote for I am my disease

…

I will always fall and rise again

Your venomous heroine

'Cause I am a survivor

Yeah, I am a fighter

In this Moment – The Fighter

Dear Harry,

It feels forever since I've written to you. Time passes differently here; I don't think you'll understand just how. I don't know the date or day, I'm not even sure the month. I like to think the year is still the same. The thing is, I've done things. Things I thought I was never capable of and I worry. Worry because sometimes it's not as difficult as it should be. I always thought to do the wrong thing was harder, I never thought it could be easy.

I hope your well, I hope we're winning. I hope you know I love you and that despite everything I've done, you understand, I did this for the greater good. That sometimes the needs of the many out weight the needs of the few.

I know her true wish. I know my wish, I'm not sure I can do this anymore. I don't know if I want to return do you think me mad. Maybe I am. Why would I want to stay here, with her? Every day death trails us it gets harder sometimes I forget what sleep is. I forget the taste of food; her mission is now mine and I worry. Lines are crisscrossed here. I don't know where I stand anymore, please don't judge me. Don't hate me. I think only you might understand, perhaps you're the only one I trust.

I love you.

Hermione.

Slap! He crushes the mosquito against his neck, squinting at the pain that flares. He feels the bites, every one of them grates against his clothes. The sweat trickles down his back, exhaustion it tugs on his consciousness. How many days have they been in this bloody forest? Lost. A short cut his uncle thought would save them time, except the further they went in the harder it became.

They lost track on the first day, his uncle trapping them in the forest. The compass not working, only pointing north-west the opposite way they needed to go. They only went this way because Frank twisted his knee. A short cut to the camp how did they become so lost?

How on earth did they bump into two female backpackers? Even now he wonders if they're angels if they don't exist, but the comments from Pas he knows they're real. So very real, even in the deep dank woods he can smell the perfume of the girl. It reminds him of his mums' perfume, the one she wore for special occasions. Before the accident, her passing, before he moved in with his uncle. Uncle Hugo, a farmer all tough talk a man's man. His brother loves his uncle he has a shotgun he gets to shoot, off-roaders to drive through the farm. A reminder it didn't matter what they learnt in school because it was the land that rewarded them.

Eighteen, Rory doesn't want to be a farmer, he hasn't got the hands for it. Nor the stamina, he wants to become something more, his teachers want him to become something more. Didn't want to be dragged to the forest as some stupid bonding session, a man's adventure.

He doesn't regret meeting the women, Hermione the youngest, a strange relationship she has with her travelling companion. He cannot put the finger on it. Are they sisters? They vehemently deny it, he doesn't dare ask if the older woman is Hermione's mother. Something wrong with that woman, the dark eyes that trace his thin frame as though he just dirt on the bottom of her nail.

His uncle told him to keep his gob shut when they stumbled across the women, he was dubious. Do two beautiful women just so happen to be lost in the same woods as them? He's read too many horrors, seen too many films to know. Things like this didn't happen. Were they meant to forget the slaughtered stag they came across when entering the woods? Killed by a creature, not a bear as Pas kept reassuring, it was something else. A bear didn't do that, doesn't string a creature up in the trees.

His neck tingles the way it does when someone at school stares at him, whispers about him. That's the boy with no parents. Why wouldn't they point I it was his car his parents died in.

Closing his eyes, he stops with the rest of the group a short breather as they scrounge for the last remains of their water. He rests his hands on his knees, worn out. Even his uncle the survivalist is struggling his five o'clock stubble wet from exhaustion. They're all so tired, except the two women who seem unfazed by this trek.

What did they say? They've been backpacking through Europe for months. How did they come to have beautiful tans? How did they stay so chilled, so calm in the creepy forest? No sweat? Endless food they were unsure they wanted to share. Well, Hermione was happy to share, to help them, the other Bellatrix. What sort of name was that? She was hostile on their first meeting it didn't matter Pas had a machete to cut through the forest. If anything, he feared the woman more unarmed she vibrated anger. Her eyes like black coal at the bottom of BBQ still too hot to touch but cool on the exterior.

She unnerved him, even his uncle warned to steer clear of the woman who kept to herself when they camped. They both did untrusting of their new allies in the forest. He supposes it makes sense two women with four men; it would make most uncomfortable.

He notices today though there's a different tension, Hermione is fuming. He'd seen it in his ex when he told her he couldn't come to the wedding cause of a football game. He vowed never to see it again. They've argued, must be the night before both women last to fall asleep the first awake. In their little tent, his seen them take shifts when he'd go for a wee at night. One sleeping while the other remains awake, did their presence truly scare them so? Or was it the forest set them on edge?

He hasn't seen the women spare a single word to one another, only hisses if anything. His uncle reminding to stay well away from the fight. He knew better than to interfere. Still, he wonders what they argued about, they were fine the day before. Only on edge because of their new friends. What made them fall out so much? So much, he can feel the anger rippling through Hermione's frame.

"Found something!" His Uncle rushes back towards them, jacket torn in his haste bag left behind.

They all follow not as quickly, through the thick forest. Crawling when the machete fails to cut through the branches, thorns tugging at their coats. Mud on his knees he pushes to his feet staring in wonder at the ancient building. It looks almost toppled in, an old monastery in the forest. It's stunning in its old architecture.

"Get a picture of this!" His Uncle shouts to Frank standing on top of a gravestone.

He shakes his head at the lack of respect, studying the building instead. The forest has begun to reclaim the ground, pulling the bell tower downwards into the main section of the building. Moss growing over the side, branches smashing through the window. It must have sat empty for years, centuries maybe. The graves almost swallowed by the forest as though they never existed.

"Come on." Pas nudges his uncle into the building.

The urge to tell them not to go, to not enter the derelict building fails to form. He gave up ages ago trying to tell his uncle not to do something. That his actions are dangerous, like the time he rode his Harley without a jacket. Wanting to do wheelies. Broken arm as a told you so, he wishes he could be as free-spirited. Rory wishes he could easily forget the nagging voice in his head.

Slowly he wanders around the building admiring the scenery, he might never see anything like this again. If anything, he'll be going to London, to continue to study he hasn't told his uncle, not yet. For now, he wants to get out of this haunting forest away from the danger, the strange noises at night. Not badgers or foxes, not a bear something else in this forest. A growl so low in the dark of the night, he wonders if he's imagining it. He notices Hermione hears it too, her eyes always watching the forest, as though she can see through it.

"No."

The word stops him, he catches a glimpse of black hair recognises the sound of Hermione's voice. Pressing against the old structure he hears shuffling feet. A scuffle taking place between the two women, a dull slap followed by a much higher-pitched one. Curses so low, he strains to hear the whispers.

"Fuck you," Hermione growls breathless, anger it laces her words he flinches at the vulgar language.

"You seem to forget muddy," Bellatrix replies with just as much venom. "We're in this together."

"No, I won't help. Where in the world do you think I'd agree to that?"

"You don't have a choice,"

"No? After this, when we get away from this haunted forest. I'm going the other way to you."

"You'll die."

"So, will you."

Confused, Rory tries to control his breathing so as not to be caught. What were they arguing about? Were they convicts on the run? Are they hiding from the law is why they acted so hostile?

"And what?" The conversation has moved on, changed so rapidly he struggles to keep up between their whispers. "You think the Order will take you back? They will but they'll have you on a leash, you know that. Dumbles won't let you anywhere near Potter, not with your blood. Or what you going to go one with those idiot muggles how long you think you'll last before you change?"

"Get off me."

"No."

"It's a death wish." Hermione snaps followed by the sound of shuffling another struggle. "Your wish is defunct. Do you think it'll work? You want that psycho back in your life?"

"Watch your tongue filth…"

"The wish is redundant."

"I will have my Lord back at his full potential."

Fuck, they've run away from a cult. What religion did they worship, some sort of Order ruled by a Lord of some kind? Did Hermione want to escape, is that why the older woman was here. Had she tracked Hermione down, persuading her to return?

"The wish won't work Bellatrix; he didn't die at Harry's hand. We don't know why he died that night, but he didn't die by Harry."

"Of Course not, he was a baby."

There Lord tried to kill a baby? No wonder Hermione wanted out of this madness he didn't blame her. Perhaps he could help her escape, but would his uncle believe him.

"He died by his own spell," Hermione's voice rings loud. "If you make your wish, he will still die. I thought you wanted your daughter back."

"I do."

"Then why make such a foolish risk…"

"He will allow me to keep her, I only lost her because he died that night. If he lived, he would allow me to keep her."

"He would never allow it, you had an affair with Longbottom if he didn't kill her, Lestrange would. Your husband would."

"Shut up."

"Bella, listen to me. Make a wish any wish, but that wish will not work. He will still die that night to rise again. Surely, wish for him to win the war?"

Silence it's deathly in the woods, not even the birds seem to chirp. Not in the creepy wood, as though they're too scared to make any noise. His neck prickles again.

"You do want him to win? Don't you?"

"Obviously."

The voice lacks its usual bite though and Rory wonders does she want them to win? Whoever they are?

A scream makes him jump falling to the ground in shock grasping his chest in fear. Turning wide eyes towards the front of the church. A flash of black as Bellatrix rushes towards the noise, pushing to his feet. He brushes himself down, freezing when he finds Hermione staring at him. Disappointed? Annoyed, his not sure what emotion flickers across her face before it settles for anger.

"You were eavesdropping?" She demands angrily.

"I… Your bleeding." He fumbles for words pointing at her split lip.

Her hand wipes the blood away, she stares at it as though confused, he wants to offer her his hand. Promise her that he can help her if she wants to get away from the woman. He can save her, once they are out of this forest, he can help her escape. That she doesn't need to suffer in silence.

"I can help you," He mutters, shocked at his bravery, startling her from her trance. "If you need my help, I can save you."

"Save me?"

"From her?"

Understanding, dawns honey eyes darting to the way the other woman had run, before returning to Rory. Endless depths he can almost see his own scared eyes staring back. No longer so sure she needs saving, there's a deeper strength in the young woman. An age beyond her years, her head tilts to the side as though wondering what to do with him. She's unarmed, but right now he feels so very threatened, that she could kill him easily.

He's never seen anything like her before, a young woman with such fierceness, such conviction and attentiveness it makes him squirm. She's nothing like the girls at his school, and he wonders if he had it wrong. Maybe it's Bellatrix that needs saving not this slip of a woman.

A chuckle, breathless in its appearance, wide eyes turns towards the sky as though unbelieving. That the very situation is boring her, that his words are foolish. He finally understands what he's seeing, not just strength but bravery. Her courage that despite the situation she's in full control. That the black-haired beauty that terrifies four grown men is a mere trifle. He didn't recognise it at first because he's never had that backbone. Never dared to do what's right, to do what's needed. Even the day his parents died. It's also something else he recognises, a killer staring back.

He's seen it in his reflection at night, when he stares at the mirror, his own dark eyes haunting him. Because unlike her he was a coward, whereas he can imagine her staring down any monster. He would run as fast as he could, while she dares to do the right thing.

Unlike him, when arguing with his parents, he stopped the car. Climbed out the driving seat started yelling at his parents as they yelled at him. To become something more, to do something with his life. Didn't realise he stopped the car on train tracks, nor the train bearing down on the car. His three-door car that had his mum strapped in the back. His car where the seats struggle to fold when needed. His dad escaped but stayed to try to save his mum. While he ran as the train came. Later, he didn't argue when the police assumed his dad was driving. Or when he said they dropped him off before the train tracks.

"I don't need saving." Hermione states with a low laugh.

She leaves him in the shade of the church, to investigate the ruckus. His uncle found a skeleton bone and threw it at Pas, scaring the man into screaming. His Uncle told him to stop wasting his time with ridiculous stories of cults as they continued the trek. He didn't acknowledge Hermione as she looked back at him, nor dare lift his eyes when he felt Bellatrix looking. The two women whispering amongst themselves from the front. He doesn't feel like their angels, where were they leading them?

It's that night when they eat their rations, shaking in the cold of the night, the fight not enough. The two women huddled at the entrance of their tent, not touching yet not apart. Hermione reading as Bellatrix played with her nails. He wanted to ask what the number on Bellatrix's neck was, he didn't have the nerve. He was aware he was becoming a stalker, watching both the women's moves.

The way they interact doesn't make sense. Not friends, not lovers and yet they weren't enemies. It didn't make sense; they weren't related so what did that make them? The soft murmurs of their conversation so very comfortable in each other's persona space. The gentle touch of Hermione's hand on Bellatrix's arm. The way Bellatrix reading over Hermione's shoulder something so domineering and comforting. Who were they?

~~~~~ ADITM ~~~~~

Prodding the fire, Hermione hears the rustling of Bellatrix emerging from the tent, bags packed. They're leaving. Sitting crossed leg, a charm preventing the wet forest ground to soak her trousers, she studies the other two tents. With the four snoring muggles, the muggles they bumped into during their journey through the forest.

A strange trial, they could feel it the instant they stepped foot on the forest floor. Something in the darkness, watching them, studying them. It made her skin tingle, and irritation it stirred the beast inside. Not liking the feel of being prey.

Something magical lived in this forest, calling to those wandering by, calling for food. They had upset its ritual, it's hunting ground. It tried the first night to attack not prepared for Bellatrix's magic. An awareness that something else magical was in its forest. It left them alone, it's growl disappearing the feeling of being watched evaporating. It was almost a pleasant walk until they bumped into the muggles. When they crossed the line with the creature hunting them. Had left them a warning on entrance something the muggles seemed to have deemed a mere coincidence they accepted the terms of the hunt by travelling further into the forest.

When they described the description of the slaughtered deer, Hermione knew it was a Hyenabura, something she read about in books at Hogwarts. A creature although fascinating she did not want to meet. Finding the monastery earlier confirmed their suspicions they were on the humanoids ground. They need to leave especially since the muggles have disturbed the sacred ground.

Hermione considers oblivating Rory's mind if he overheard the conversation from earlier. It didn't matter really, the chances of the muggles escaping the forest were near to none. She hated herself for thinking it, herself for realising that this is probably another test. Not to interfere with events, it wasn't their place.

A foot nudges her lower back, Bellatrix prompting her to move. It's time for them to go, to leave the muggles to their fate. Lifting her backpack on to her shoulder she silently follows Bellatrix their tent packed it as though they were never here. She kind of prefers it that way, it makes their journey easier.

"You didn't wipe his mind?" Bellatrix questions quietly.

The forest almost seems to open allowing them exit, as though rewarding them for doing the right thing despite the ache in her chest. It doesn't feel like the right choice leaving four men to die. Maybe they'll survive maybe they were wrong in leaving she doesn't know.

She shakes her head to Bella's question, ignoring the witch as she pauses to regard the camp behind. Contemplating going back, after their argument though she doubts Bellatrix will allow Hermione out of her sight. After all, Hermione isn't sure she can help the witch achieve her goal now. Especially if it means undoing everything, she's not even sure it'll work. The lie still hurts though, she's not sure what she expected really from Bellatrix. She hoped the witch brought them to the trials to get her daughter back. She didn't think the devotion to her Lord would lead her to do something so stupid. So reckless. Nevertheless, it really shouldn't surprise her after all Bellatrix dragged them into the trials.

"Your leaving?" The questions startle both witches making them turn to the voice. "Just like that?"

It's Rory, the lanky teen dragged by his uncle on to a hiking trip. To bring the man out of Rory, the boy too nerdy for his uncle. Standing in his boxes he looks lost in the dark forest, the prickling at the nape of her neck as the humanoid lurks closer. They need to leave allow the creature to hunt.

"Why?"

"Head back boy," Bellatrix warns even in the dark Hermione can see the wand entering Bellatrix's hand. She's been doing so well not drawing her wand for the last few days.

"Hermione, I can help you."

"Oh, this again." Bellatrix drawls. "Better people than you have tried."

"I don't need saving," Hermione states ignoring Bellatrix. "Go back."

A scream breaks the silence, a roar that's deafening. The shouting of the muggles left behind. Turning, Rory stares at the flicking flame through the forest then back to the two witches. Bellatrix watching amused while Hermione merely resigned to not interfere. Her actions won't save anyone, she supposes it is the object of the trial.

She watches Rory shake with fear, torn between following Hermione or returning to his camp. They can hear the shouting of the muggles calling for Rory, for his return. Can only imagine the destruction the creature will cause.

Shaking her head Bellatrix turns to leave the muggles to their fate and following their exit. Hermione hesitates to take one last look at the pleading eyes. The desperation, the fear in those eyes, terrified. Shaking in fear Rory doesn't have the balls to return to his friends a child. She offers a tiny smile, something mustered from her core, she never knows he might surprise them. Might survive after all when the brave die only the cowards remain.

She leaves him to the screaming, to the cries of pain. Leaves the hunt behind and the smell of death. Can only imagine the destruction wrought, as she follows Bellatrix. Ignores the cries from Rory begging for her return. It wasn't her that needed saving, it was him, if only he had asked. If only she didn't want to escape the forest she may have.

If only…

~~~~~ADITM~~~~~

They don't speak of the wishes nor the forest left behind as they carry on with their journey. Following the trials like obedient dogs, hoping for a treat at the end. Running a marathon hoping to see the end with only pain as their constant companion. They talk amongst themselves; they discuss theories of the magical world. She indulges Bella's interests in the muggle world, ignores the jibes as though the witch isn't interested.

They wander, two witches with their backpacks, hunting for food when low and laughing when coming across civilisation. Talk of the wish has become taboo. It's safer that way.

When they're not travelling or resting, Bellatrix begrudgingly teaches Hermione how to duel. How to perform spells. They don't rest until blisters form on her hands until at least some part of her body is bleeding at the end. Until her chest burns from exertion and she wonders how she knows so little? How did they survive the Ministry? Every time she duels, she tries not to let her anger rise when Bellatrix checks her nails.

It's daunting, demoralising that she knows so little about magic. About duelling, each time they take their places she feels as though she knows less and less. Each time she lands on her arse she wonders how Bellatrix doesn't bore from the training. She's not used to failure, it's a harsh lesson one she's not sure she's equipped with the mentality to deal with.

It's a hot blistering day when she realises, she prefers the cold weather to this, stripped down to her tank top. She prefers the cold, it's easier to add layers to keep warm than it is to strip. Short of walking in her underwear, she keeps herself amused by counting the different variations of making a potion.

Her foot stills amongst the vines on the ground, her ears twitch. Bellatrix pauses next to her, waiting for her words to move. Lowering herself down, Hermione crouches amongst the vines, level with the shrubs. Silently she stalks forward, hand pressing against the solid ground. Feels the slight vibration of feet, the sound of dirt kicking up.

She signals Bellatrix, wand already in hand the dark witch circles to the other side of the path. They wait to spring a trap or allow the strangers to pass. Friend or foe?

It's the giant sword that catches her attention first, she's moving from hiding before her mind catches up with her movements. A hiss from Bellatrix, a twist of a hand from the stranger. The tip of a wand against her jugular, she cannot help but smile.

"Heta?" Hermione breathes in disbelief.

"Hermione?"

A laugh she launches into the outstretched arms, falling into a hug of a witch she thought she'd never see. Never thought she would see Heta, not since she left the tribe that saved them. Yet here they were.

Bellatrix emerges from the shadows, arms folded she rests against the tree. Eyeing up Heta's friend, both distrusting. Hermione ignores them, only too happy to see a friendly face she thought she was going mad in this forest.

"Hermione," Heta greets repeating the name once more and releasing Hermione from the hug. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"Same." Hermione laughs nervously stepping away she brushes her hair from her face.

Flushed, she ignores the glare from Bellatrix glancing down the path Heta was taking. She didn't imagine the witch to have such heavy footsteps, it didn't matter. She ignores the Goosebumps on her arms and the queasiness in her stomach. She puts it down to butterflies, at seeing the witch who kissed her.

"Your different," Heta announces, her caring eyes swooping over Hermione. "You seem confident."

Perhaps she has changed during the trial, she can barely remember normal life. Hogwarts a mere dream she doubts she will ever graduate now. It's not as terrifying thought as she thought it would be, she always feared what she would do after Hogwarts. Now though, she fears returning to normal life. That anything outside the trials will be a trial of its own. How do you return to normality after this?

Hermione is aware she's lost weight, but her body has toned, she has muscle where there was none. Her face hardened from the weather her skin tanned from the sun. She feels different, yet so very much the same. Where Heta looks wrung out, tired, there are deep circles under her eyes. She's lost muscle mass, skinny even her friend with his clothes that are too big for him.

"It's been a long trial." Hermione states eventually.

"Months, I cannot believe you're still going."

"Months?"

"At least seven since the last I saw you."

Swallowing, Hermione shares a look with Bellatrix, distressed at the news. Has it been so long since they started travelling? Lost in the trials?

"We can't linger," Bellatrix warns passing Hermione.

Nodding, she knows this, they shouldn't cross paths with others. This is not a neutral territory, were they meant to attack one another. Join? She doubts it, perhaps it's temptation perhaps she shouldn't put so much thought into everything. Her mind is telling her to keep moving, that something in this situation is wrong, she chooses to listen to the voice.

A hand shifts on her shoulder, Heta's eyes hardening at the scar left from Greyback. Swallowing, Hermione is quick to slip her jacket on, to cover the mark. The smile falling from Heta's face as she steps back, hands falling to her side.

"Now I see," Heta mutters, as her friend shifts.

Stepping back, Hermione is aware of Bellatrix lurking behind her, the change in tension. Clutching her jacket, Hermione glances to Heta's friend, the wand clutched tightly in their large hands, his scowl. The disgust threw her way, they once saw her as a friend, perhaps a prophet. Now they see only a monster, something she is trying so hard not to become.

"I… uh, was bitten." Hermione stammers wondering what else she should say.

"I see, I am sorry," Heta replies coolly, drawing away.

"I'm still me, I'm not going to hurt you," Hermione says confidently. "It's not…"

"I'm sure you mean not to." Heta interrupts. "I will pray for you."

I'm not a leper! She wants to shout those words because her blood is cursed it doesn't need to be this way.

"Heta," Hermione snaps, flinching as Bellatrix rests a hand on her shoulder.

A warning, that this is a waste of time. To save her breath and let the warrior leave, she doesn't want to. It's agonising the pain, she feels her heart shattering, the disgust threw her way. It hurts more than any crucio from Bellatrix. Hurts more than any slur could, they were friends, potential lovers.

A kiss to the cheek, not a lover's kiss, pity. She turns away as Heta withdraws, a kiss goodbye. If they survive this, Heta will not come looking for her. This is goodbye. It hurts more than it should, only anger prevents any tears from falling.

"I wish you well," Heta states turning from them.

Shaking, Hermione swallows the bile in her throat, her hands clutching the jacket. She wanted to avoid this. To Avoid seeing anyone because of this reason. Not like this.

"Heta," Hermione calls the witch stopping on the incline of the path staring down at Hermione.

"I hope you get your wish."

"Well, you know what…" Something wet splashes Hermione's face.

Screaming drowns out the unnatural squeal that fills the forest. A deep bark, blades slice through flesh, blood spirting across the path.

Bones snap, spell flares too late.

She's the one screaming, shouting, begging. No, no, no. A mantra, the blood it seeps into the mud, it drips from the vines of the tree.

Heta falls motionless to the ground. Dead.

Hermione screams.

~~~~~ADITM~~~~~

I will not hide my face

I will not fall from grace

I'll walk into the fire, baby.

All my life

I was afraid to die

But now I come alive inside these flames!

I don't need you to save me

'Cause I'm a survivor

Yeah, I am a fighter

A/n: *Coughs awkwardly* First i'd like to say a massive thank you for all the support you guys are showing, I'm the same as everyone I'm struggling atm. It was really interesting to see where all you guys are reading from crazy to think this reaches all over the globe. It's daunting so thank you. This last week been a bit hard, had a ambulance out due to the current bug, I'm fine now, but it put my writing behind. Thank you for all the well wishes, honestly this writing is the only thing stopping me from going crazy at home. So please all stay safe.

This chapter was inspired by the book/movie The Ritual, it's a good read if you like horror.

As you can tell I really love this song and it goes so well with Bellamione so no regrets in adding it.

Ten points to your houses (because we've all done the test online, Griffindor btw) if you can guess what has happened in this scene. Also I don't know if it's reassuring or annoying to know that this story is only part way through. I mean we've got the trials to finish and then reality to get back to so well hope your in for the long road. Anyone wanting something to read between updates, Curfew is also currently running very different to this, but still Bellamione, obviously.

Till next time...