Bellatrix paced in her room, a wolf again in an attempt to block out much of the noise that being human brought with it. Andromeda was fast asleep in bed, and Sirius, as a dog, was stretched out on his side near the door. His paws twitched when a scented breeze blew through the room, ruffling their fur and rustling branches on the mural. Andromeda had been particularly pleased when she had figured out that tricky enchantment and ecstatic when she managed to add smells to the room.
Bellatrix paused in her pacing, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The breeze smelled of pine and rich dirt. With her eyes closed and the thick carpet under her paws, she could imagine she was in the forest. Unlike the night before, it brought her comfort.
It helped elevate the turmoil in her mind. But only for a moment.
She resumed pacing.
When Hermione expressed her worries about Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Bellatrix had thought to offer her help. She knew much about the Dark Arts, had been taught by the Dark Lord himself, and his lessons had naturally included how to defend against them. Surely she could be of assistance. Yet, as she began to speak, her gaze landed on her family tapestry, a thought crossing her mind: She does not deserve my help or my knowledge. She is a mudblood. Would I betray the Dark Lord's teachings to such a lowly creature?
She had tensed. Fought back against the thought. But she had not been able to find it in her to speak, to offer her assistance. The words had caught in her throat, and the worst was that - on some level - the voice felt right .
But why? That's what she didn't understand. It felt right, but she could not make sense of it. Why didn't Hermione deserve her help?
Because she's a mudblood.
What did it matter?
Mudbloods are beneath me.
Why?
They don't know our ways, don't share our history, aren't as powerful or as deserving as those who have cultivated power running through their veins.
But Hermione was smart, and Bella wouldn't be surprised if she was powerful as well.
She has strengths, for a mudblood, but it makes her think she is worth more than she is. She will never be as good as a pureblood.
Bellatrix stopped and huffed, aggravated. Turning the thoughts over in her mind, she could not make them make sense, but once again it felt true in a way she could not articulate or understand.
Andromeda shifted in bed, groaned, and sat up. "Bella?" Her voice was thick with sleep.
Bella stood still. Maybe if she remained quiet, Andromeda would go back to sleep.
Sirius rolled over onto his back, his paws twitching in his sleep. Perhaps Andromeda mistook him for her because she murmured something under her breath, laid back down and fell asleep.
Bellatrix stood still for several minutes, listening. Save for the gentle breaths of Sirius and Andy, the house was quiet. Not even Kreacher made any sound. A bed creaked in another room, sheets rustled and a body shifted. One of the boys, she guessed. They settled down, and the stillness returned.
She resumed pacing. The background noise that came with being human had faded but the clarity she sought remained elusive.
It was as though she had two worlds - both of them true - living in her head. Competing. Trying to meld together and, where they could not, they fought for dominance. If only she knew where to look for guidance... Though the tensions between her sisters had eased, an understanding reached, they stood divided on many things - the same things that conflicted Bellatrix.
Aggravated, she stepped around Sirius, nudged the bedroom door open, and slipped through. She did not have a conscious destination in mind, but she was not surprised when her paws carried her to Hermione's door. She tried to turn the handle with her paws. Locked.
Ears flattening in frustration, she dropped back to all fours with a soft thud. Crookshanks mewed from the other side. There was a thump inside the room. Paws paddled over to the door. Scratching at it, Crookshanks meowed louder.
"Hush, I'm coming," Hermione whispered sleepily. "You'll wake Ginny..."
She opened the door, and Crookshanks slipped out into the hall. She closed the door, her quiet mutterings muffled as it clicked shut. She shuffled back to bed, climbed in, and soon was quiet. Fast asleep, Bella assumed. Crookshanks rubbed against Bella's side, turned back to the door and scratched at it. Bella huffed in amusement.
Nudging him, she tried to encourage him to follow her somewhere else. Hermione needed rest, no sense waking her up again, Crookshanks could wait until morning -
Bella's head snapped up. She hadn't heard the door lock. Eagerly, she pawed at the handle, and her heart leaped when the door swung open.
Crookshanks trotted straight to Hermione's bed. While Bella pushed the door shut, he jumped up onto the end of the bed and curled up. She hopped up next to him, curled around Crookshanks and settled down, laying on Hermione's feet. Hermione grumbled, raised her head, glared sleepily at Bellatrix while she kicked her feet free, and settled again, her breathing evening out. Bellatrix wasn't sure Hermione had properly woken at all.
She laid her head on Hermione's leg. The confusion and frustration plaguing her eased. Between Hermione's presence and Crookshanks purring against her side, she drifted off to sleep.
Ginny woke Hermione in the morning.
"Okay, I wish I had saved my joke about sleeping with Death Eaters now."
"Huh?" Prying her eyes open, Hermione glanced down the bed. Suddenly wide awake, she propped herself up on her elbows.
Bellatrix sprawled across the bed, an arm flopped over Hermione's stomach. Her thick black hair was tousled and fanned out in a way that made Hermione's stomach flip. Her shirt had ridden up her torso, exposing her stomach, stopping just under her breasts. Eyes roaming Bellatrix's figure, she noted that she had been right the night before: Bellatrix had visible abs.
She swallowed. Bellatrix's whole figure was toned and muscular, but not too much, just the right amount in Hermione's opinion -
Which didn't matter, she reminded herself, shocked out of her thoughts. It wasn't important at all except as an interesting observation of how the animagus form and the human form were linked.
Ginny watched her curiously. "You look a bit flushed there, Hermione. See something you like?"
"No!" Hermione said, a bit too forcefully. She blushed harder at Ginny's smirk. "I just think it's interesting how the human and animal bodies are linked. She can't have been weight lifting or anything like that so her musculature must come from her time as a wolf in the forest. It's fascinating, don't you think?"
She determinedly met Ginny's gaze.
"Your interest in Bellatrix's abs is purely academic then?" Ginny said with badly disguised mirth and skepticism.
"Of course it is!" Hermione glanced back at Bellatrix and frowned when her gaze landed on Bellatrix's left arm. The Dark Mark stood out prominently on the pale skin of her forearm. A cold feeling trickled into her stomach.
Ginny backed off.
"Okay, but jokes aside, what is she doing here?"
"I don't know. I locked the door last night, she shouldn't have been able to..." She trailed off, brow furrowed. "Oh. Crookshanks."
Ginny frowned. "Crookshanks let her in?"
"No, he wanted out last night. I must not have locked the door after, I wasn't really awake... Yes, I remember. Sort of, I think. I thought it was Crookshanks laying on my feet, but it can't have been him... Too heavy and too big... It was an animal, though. She must have been a wolf then. Can animagi transform in their sleep?"
Ginny crossed her arms. "She can't just come in here whenever she wants."
"I'm not sure she really understands."
"We'll make her understand," Ginny said simply. She grabbed her pillow and, before Hermione could protest, whacked Bellatrix in the stomach.
Bellatrix jerked awake with an inhuman snarl ripping from deep in her chest, eyes wild. She grabbed the pillow, tore it from Ginny's grasp and flung it aside. Ginny crossed her arms, unmoved.
"This is our room. Get out."
"My house. You get out," Bellatrix growled.
"This is Sirius's house, and we're sleeping here. You can't be here."
"Not without permission," Hermione added when Bellatrix did not seem to understand the problem.
Bellatrix tilted her head, eyes narrowed. It seemed as if the idea she needed permission had never occurred to her. She hadn't taken her eyes off Ginny.
"Pack sleeps together."
" Wolves sleep together. People sleep alone."
Bellatrix's gaze was calculating. "You two share a room. Andy and I...share too."
"Because we agreed to share a room. We didn't agree to share with you ."
Bellatrix made a small noise of discontent. She turned to Hermione as if expecting her to disagree.
Hermione's heart skipped a beat at those gorgeous gray eyes staring into her own so close to her. Clearing her throat, she said, "Ginny's right. You can't be in here without our permission. Especially not when we're asleep. It's rude."
Bellatrix grumbled and got off the bed, her movements strangely animal-like. She dropped to her hands and feet, transformed, trotted to the door, turned the knob with her paws and slipped out into the hall. Ginny closed and locked the door, shaking her head.
When she turned around, her irritation vanished. Grinning at Hermione, she asked, "How was it?"
Hermione frowned, confused. "How was what?"
Ginny's grin widened. "Sleeping with Bellatrix."
Hermione threw her pillow at her.
The winter holidays were shaping up to be very interesting in Hermione's opinion. Unlike Harry and Ron, Andromeda was more than happy to discuss magical theory, and she enjoyed listening to Andromeda discuss the kinds of spells and enchantments that went into the room she had remodeled for Bellatrix. It was very advanced magic, the kind they had yet to learn at Hogwarts, and Hermione was fascinated. She had read about such spells, of course, but the closest she had ever come to seeing them in action was the ceiling of the Great Hall. The scope of that enchantment paled to Bellatrix and Andromeda's bedroom. Even better was that Andromeda appeared to actually appreciate the discussions rather than merely humoring her as she often felt others did.
"I'm sorry Bellatrix bothered you and Ginny," Andromeda said while Hermione admired the wall where the fireplace was set.
Hermione tore her attention away from the fireplace (it nearly appeared to be standing alone in the center of a small forest clearing, the magical depth given to the wallpaper forest was so realistic) and stared at her in confusion before she realized what she meant. "Oh. Did Ginny tell you?"
"She was rather...irritated...about it," Andromeda said, a slight smile curving her lips, and Hermione could imagine Andromeda being cornered by an angry Ginny. "Bellatrix and I have had a discussion about boundaries."
As a wolf, Bellatrix wandered the length of the room on the opposite end from Hermione, sniffing at the ground, staring out at the illusionary forest. At Andromeda's words, she shot Andromeda a glare. Hermione thought their "discussion" might have been better described as a lecture.
Despite the awkward incident that morning, Hermione recognized that Bellatrix's progress in the few months they had been away was remarkable. Though she still spent much of her time as a wolf, she had gotten better at communicating, and it was clear she understood more than she had before.
Her second night at Grimmauld Place, Bellatrix slipped inside the library, saw her curled up in a chair working on homework, and transformed into a woman. Hermione felt a strange squirming in her gut. She did not understand why she reacted to Bellatrix that way or what it meant. Bellatrix passed her on her way between bookcases. Hermione's eyes lingered on Bellatrix's toned arms.
Bellatrix returned a few minutes later with a book in hand and held it out to Hermione.
"Read to me?" Bellatrix's voice was rough from disuse, the words stilted and unfamiliar, but her voice was deep and soothing. Her heavily lidded gray eyes were bright and intense.
Hermione took the book, and her fingers brushed against Bellatrix's own thin and delicate ones. Her breath caught. Bellatrix's head tilted in confusion. Face feeling warm, Hermione took the book.
"O-Of course," she said, opening it.
Bellatrix curled up in a chair across from her, watching her intently.
Hermione read, not really absorbing what she was saying. It was some book about magical history, a subject Hermione would have found fascinating at any other time. But Bellatrix's gaze felt heavy, nearly oppressive and her heartbeat quickened. When Bellatrix shifted, lounging with one leg crossed over her other knee, a royal air about her, and Hermione's heart skipped a painful beat and her stomach squirmed.
Bellatrix tilted her head back, eyes closed, letting the sound of Hermione's voice wash over her. Warmth blossomed in Hermione's chest.
Bellatrix cracked open one eye. "Stopped reading."
"Oh!" Hermione's face burned with embarrassment at being caught, though what she had been caught doing, she didn't know. "Sorry, I'll, uh, where was I? Ah, yes, there we go..."
As she returned to reading, Bellatrix watched her for a moment with her one half-opened eye before tilting her head back and letting her eye slip closed.
It seemed that Bellatrix had a limit on how long she would remain human. By the time Hermione had to stop reading, her voice growing hoarse, Bellatrix had returned to her Animagus form. To her mild disappointment, the same remained true the next night when Bellatrix requested that Hermione continue reading to her.
"You're best. Andy...tries. But not the same," Bellatrix said when Hermione asked if she were enjoying the book list she sent Andromeda. Satisfaction swelled in Hermione's chest along with a strange fluttering sensation.
When Hermione decided it was time for bed, Bellatrix, a wolf, accompanied Hermione until they had to part ways to continue on to their respective bedrooms.
While Hermione enjoyed her time with Bellatrix, she worried she might not be able to complete the workload assigned over the holiday break if her evenings continued to be dominated by Bellatrix. The next night, she brought her homework to the drawing room. Harry, Ron and Sirius were playing Exploding Snap which did not make it the best place for studying, but it was calmer still than the Gryffindor Common Room. She sat near Andromeda who was reading the Evening Prophet . She spread out her books, parchment, quill and ink on the small round table table between her and Andromeda and set to work.
About half an hour later, a black wolf padded into the drawing room, Crookshanks close behind. With a quick glance at the clock, Hermione realized it was about the same time that Bellatrix had joined her in the library the past two nights.
"I thought you'd go to the library," Hermione said, a little exasperated but amused.
Bellatrix pawed at her nose, but Hermione did not understand.
"She followed your scent," Andromeda said, the pages of the newspaper ruffling as she turned them. "She knew exactly where you were. It's a nightmare trying to hide anything from her, especially now."
Bellatrix peered at the parchment and books. Placing her paws on the table, she tilted her head, examining Hermione's parchment. Her eyes flicked across the potions essay. After a few moments, she transformed, her thick silky hair falling around her face, and tapped a finger on the parchment.
"Nightshade...also good...pain relief," she rasped. Her voice was starting to sound better already in Hermione's opinion.
Then she processed what Bellatrix had said and furrowed her brow. "Nightshade is poisonous, why put it in a pain relief potion?"
Andromeda looked up from the Evening Prophet , watching with interest. Hermione had the impression that she knew the answer but wanted to see what Bellatrix would say.
Bellatrix tilted her head, frowning thoughtfully. It seemed she could not readily remember the reasoning even if the fact had returned to her.
"In high dose...poisonous, yes... In lower doses...numbs...the nerves. Good for...extreme pain. Only most...most..." She growled lightly, unable to remember something.
Andromeda lowered the Prophet. "She's right. Those potions are highly controlled and regulated. Too high a dose will kill someone and longer term effects of these potions can be serious. You wouldn't learn about them until seventh year potions. Hands on experience is reserved for medical students only."
Hermione smiled at Andromeda and turned to Bellatrix, who looked disgruntled that Andromeda had the answer she didn't. "Thank you, Bellatrix. I'll be sure to add that to my essay."
Bellatrix's mood lifted instantly. Andromeda gazed at her thoughtfully, though what she was wondering, Hermione couldn't be sure.
Most times Hermione viewed Bellatrix's progress as a good thing. It was what Dumbledore wanted. But sometimes Bellatrix would withdraw and become distant, reserved. Almost cold. The air of regality that gathered around Bellatrix at those moments reminded Hermione of Narcissa, elegant and powerful, untouchable. Deadly.
But then Bellatrix would relax, her gaze softening, and the feeling of unease would lessen, though it still lingered.
As a wolf, Bellatrix sometimes stopped in the hallway or in the doorway to a room, eyes locked on her with laser focus, body language alert. It reminded Hermione of the seconds before Bellatrix had attacked her that summer, but Bellatrix did not bear her teeth or growl. She stood unmoving and intense. Watching. Waiting. Stalking, Hermione thought, but then Bellatrix would smile a canine smile at her, tongue lolling out of her mouth.
Hermione might not understand what was going on in Bellatrix's mind at those moments, but each time Bellatrix would return to normal. She tried to put the matter out of mind. Bellatrix's thoughts and actions were understandably jumbled, she assured herself. What mattered was that Bellatrix had made no move to harm her.
Harry and Ron played chess in the drawing room on Christmas Eve and Hermione sat near them, watching. Bellatrix sat in front of the fire, watching the flames. Hermione kept a surreptitious eye on her. Fur gleaming in the firelight, sitting tall and regal, she looked like a wise warrior. The aura drew Hermione, fascinating her: regal, wise, powerful...
But she kept her distance. For the first time, Bellatrix wasn't paying any attention to her. Hermione ignored the strange pang of sadness and longing she felt, perhaps a bit of rejection. Forcing her attention back to Harry and Ron's chest match (Harry was losing miserably), she tried to put her unease out of mind.
Tomorrow was Christmas, and they would be going to visit Mr Weasley in St. Mungos.
Though Hermione would never admit it, and she wished it were under better circumstances, she had felt a sense of excitement at the chance to see St. Mungos. A wizarding hospital! How different would it be to a muggle one? But any fascination she felt vanished when she, Harry, Ron and Ginny ran into Neville and his grandmother, who were visiting his parents. She felt sick listening to Neville's grandmother tell them how his parents had been tortured into insanity by Death Eaters. Hermione knew the Death Eaters were terrible, had witnessed their actions at the Quidditch World Cup, knew what they had done to Harry...but as she watched Neville and his parents it felt different.
When Neville and his grandmother left, tears filled Hermione's eyes. "I never knew."
"Neither did I," Ron said, sounding hoarse.
"Or me," Ginny whispered.
Harry said nothing.
They all turned to look at him, and Hermione's heart sank as she took in the moody and bitter expression on his face.
"I did. Dumbledore made me promise I wouldn't mention it... That's what Bellatrix Lestrange was supposed to go to Azkaban for...using the Cruciatus Curse on Neville's parents until they lost their minds."
Hermione's insides turned to ice.
" Bellatrix did that?" Hermione whispered, horrified. Moody's lesson from the previous year (or Barty Crouch Jr.'s lesson rather) fixed itself in her mind, the red light, the spider twitching in silent agony, the sick look on Neville's face...his worrying reaction after the lesson...
Bellatrix did that. Hermione stared toward the end of the ward where Alice Longbottom had shuffled back to her bed. Bellatrix had done this ...
Harry nodded, still not looking at her. "And now Dumbledore wants her to join the Order."
Hermione felt sick. "I had no idea..."
Knowing that Bellatrix was a Death Eater was one thing. Hermione had thought she understood what that meant, but faced with the tangible reality of Bellatrix's crimes, she realized what an abstract concept it had truly been to her, how she had unconsciously assumed that Bellatrix must have been better, somehow, than the rest of the Death Eaters.
Why else would Dumbledore think she could change, be saved? Why would he want someone so vile, so evil, in the Order?
Ginny wrapped an arm around Hermione's waist when she swayed dangerously, light-headed.
"Are you okay?" Ginny asked.
"What is Dumbledore hoping will happen?" she whispered. "I don't understand...how could someone do something so..."
"I don't know," Harry said.
"I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't know - I should have trusted you had a good reason to hate her - I'm so sorry - "
"It's fine, don't worry about it, you didn't know," Harry said quickly. "I would have said, but I promised - and Neville didn't tell anyone, I didn't think I should - but I should have said something... I'm sorry, Hermione."
"It wasn't just you. We were fooled too," Ginny said in a low voice with barely restrained fury.
"What's Dumbledore playing at?" Ron demanded, but he did not seem to expect an answer from anyone.
Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that she should have known better, that she had betrayed Neville in an unforgivable way. She felt betrayed. Why didn't Andromeda tell her? What was Sirius's excuse?
And worst of all, Hermione thought, feeling nauseous and faint, she felt betrayed by Bellatrix.