It was a Mexican Standoff. That was the best way to describe it. Hermione still had her wand, she could flee if she wanted to. She could go to the FSB headquarters in Tiraspol—let Larissa know what was going on. She would have a strike team there from Moscow in minutes, Hermione didn't doubt it. Of course, minutes was plenty of time for Bellatrix to apparate away herself, in an area of disputed magical and muggle borders and control. And this Bellatrix—well, she clearly understand the muggle world enough to run a damned nightclub.
For harvesting people for blood, Hermione thought with a sudden chill, and wondered just how many had died in the back of that club. Certainly, Bellatrix would think nothing at all of killing Muggles and drinking their blood for food. She probably found it a form of entertainment, like the muggle hunts that the Death Eaters had gone on as a form of leisure.
They moved through the night in Bendery, a tight knot of three women. Bellatrix had her wand out and screened by her coat, and so did Hermione. The moonlight made her skin an absolutely brilliant white, where it was visible. Hermione wondered if that was the equivalent of a healthy glow for a vampire. Valentina shared it, which she supposed meant they were both successful vampires.
Why was it when Valentina was just a muggle turned into a vampire that I was sympathetic and now I'm wondering if they eat people in their nightclub? In fact, Valentina had been quite the effective manipulator, and it finally explained how she knew so much about Hermione… Which also meant that Bellatrix had certainly been doing her research.
And you're going into this blind. Hermione turned down another street with them. Perhaps, enough of the city was in their pocket, that nobody would question much if she went into their house, and never returned. It turned into a one-and-a-half kilometre walk from the downtown where the nightclub was, not too far to be unpleasant. They covered it briskly, in about fifteen minutes, and it reminded Hermione of just how fit Bellatrix was as a vampire, looking healthier than she had seen her during the war, even if 'fitness' was probably a slightly alien concept to vampires. In the tension of the situation, her brain stupidly wondered if vampires needed to exercise. Could a vampire get fat from drinking too much blood?
She considered, again, if she should fight. The problem was that, as far as she knew, vampires had connections with each other. So, if either Bellatrix or Valentina saw her go for her wand, the other would instantly know. Valentina didn't have a wand, but she might still be incredibly dangerous. Vampires were said to have the ability to move unnaturally fast. Yes, she could fight, but part of that also depended on Valentina's claim, that a witch who became a vampire would cast magic like it was drawn through a straw, to be true. If it was false, and this Bellatrix could fight as well, or worse, because her motions in casting were faster, that she could fight better, then it would go south, very fast. And instead of reporting the situation to Larissa Naryshkina, the local militsiya might do precisely nothing, if Bellatrix had them in her pay.
So, of course she was terrified, that she was walking into this woman's lair. Of course, she couldn't help but think of the Malfoy Manor. The scar on her arm burned, even as she thought about it. And of course, she wanted most of all to be anywhere but here. Already, she was regretting not listening to Ron. Whatever else, he does love you, and he was right about this, Hermione thought with a kind of detached glumness. But, she tried to keep her spirits up. She was the brightest witch of her age, and she could find a way out of this. She'd have to.
Hearing Bellatrix out would at least keep whatever went down under control and avoid the need for a massive clean-up operation which would make her and muggleborns in general in the Ministry look bad; the amount of obliviation required if they just had a giant throw-down fight in the middle of the street in Bendery with local authorities involved would definitely be the kind of black mark which could scuttle a career.
A central house, with a four-corner roof, of red tile, marked Bellatrix's residence. She saw that two similarly large adjoining houses had been linked to it, and several others demolished, to create a mansion-like edifice with a proper amount of property around it. Stepping in through the gate, the immediate feeling of the wards tugging—there were differences. Yes, it wasn't entirely hidden, nor unplottable, but magic use inside would be screened from the outside world. Good. I think.
Valentina opened the door and held it for both of them, like a footman. But she had a mischievous grin. "Witches first."
"She's actually horribly impertinent," Bellatrix remarked drolly as they stepped inside. "Viggy?" She called, and a House Elf popped up.
"Mistress Bella? Viggy is being here!"
"Prepare tea, and shashlik for our guest."
"Viggy is being food preparation elf!" The elf declared, with wide eyes, perhaps taking in for a moment the fact that Hermione was not a member of the undead.
Hermione shook her head slowly. Even at this juncture, she had not expected Bellatrix to be serious about entertaining her, but here she was. They have me inside of their wards. I don't know what advantages they have over me because of that, but I still have my wand.
Valentina led them down into what seemed like a windowless sunken den, with a minibar; Hermione was surprised by the modern architecture, but in retrospect it made sense, that something in the basement would be a comfortable and safe place for vampires to relax. Hermione immediately stalked over to one of the chairs the furthest from the others, and sank into it, her wand still out and in her lap. She watched with interest as the other two parted ways, and moved to chairs at the points of a triangle.
Bellatrix isn't an idiot, and she wouldn't choose an idiot for a retainer. They were making sure that a single spell from Hermione couldn't harm both of them, that much was plain. Well it's good to see that I'm not at the Mad Hatter's tea party quite yet, where we all sit down and sing kumbaya. Still, it does give me an opening, if Valentina is smart and thoughtful. Hermione cleared her throat. "So, you invited me here. Valentina, I would have you know, at this moment, that Bellatrix Lestrange is an escaped war criminal, a terrorist, a torturer, a murderer. Though you may have asked me in the midst of deceiving me to lower my guard, I will help you seek recognition as a magical being with the same rights and participation in Wizarding society as a Goblin. I think that's completely fair. However, I hope it goes without saying that I have to walk out of here alive to be able to do that. And not as a vampire, either—they won't give me the time of day if I'm trying to advocate for my own rights instead of someone else's, as ridiculous as that is."
Viggy popped up, putting shashlik and a cup of tea down on the end table next to Hermione's chair. "Viggy is presenting English tea."
"Thank you," Hermione acknowledged, and picked up the cup. She did not expect it was poisoned, because it was just too ridiculous to think of that there was a secret plan laid in with the House Elves to put an end to her, when Bellatrix was always the kind who would want to do it herself.
Glowing eyes, in the light, regarded her from across the room. Bellatrix laughed softly. "My, my, mudblood. You've grown up since the last time that I saw you. So cool and steady, on the outside, but I can hear your heart beating."
"Would Your Nobleness consider extending to our guest the privilege of her name?" Valentina asked softly.
"Oh would you stop, Valentina!?" Bellatrix leapt to her feet and Hermione tensed. "You wanted to be part of my family, but you can be so easily seduced by her offers?"
"I just feel, that even if we must fight and kill her, there is no reason to be impolite."
Bellatrix sank back down, and laughed softly. "She helped kill My Lord," the dark witch answered, sullenly. "If she sat in front of you now, Valentina, as one of the murderers of the Tsar, and his wife and young children, would not rage fill your soul?"
Valentina went very quiet. She glanced to Hermione, who swallowed, now wondering at the woman's background. No wonder that she seemed such a killer, and perhaps not merely for being a vampire.
Finally, she spoke. "I will kill her, of course, without hesitation or mercy. That is the punishment I meted out to every one of the Bolsheviki that I could find. But, if I welcomed one of them under a flag of truce, I would not denigrate them, Your Nobleness."
Bellatrix sank lower in her chair, like some enervated puddle of flash, and yet still attractive when so blatantly lazy and diffident. She looked up across the distance at Hermione—Hermione was forced to look her in the eye when she grinned. "Well, I suppose, Granger, that's that." It was amazing how attractive she was, even sunken into a giant recliner like a lazy teenager.
Viggy probably made great Shashlik, and I'm not going to let it go cold, Hermione thought, very defiantly, and picked up the stick and began to eat in front of them. "Can you eat?" She asked, thoughtfully.
Bellatrix grimaced. "Raw meat. Anything else … Not so much. How nice of you to care, M—Granger."
"I was curious." You're going to be curious until you die, she told herself, and Hermione certainly felt death close at hand.
"Let me guess. You're going to ask next about how I escaped Hogwarts?"
"It's pretty clear you didn't escape it completely," Hermione answered levelly. She was impressed with herself, proud, even, that she was able to remain this calm in the midst of what was, with little doubt, the most terrifying moment of her life, and the most dangerous. Before, when she fought, she had usually been one of many. And other than being a mudblood and friends with Harry, she really hadn't had a reason to be killed—as if those weren't good enough reasons for a Death Eater—the last time she was in Bellatrix's hands.
But this time, it was downright common sense for Bellatrix to kill her. Thinking about it rationally, she'd kill her too in Bellatrix's place. Their cover had been blown by her mission to Transnistria. They'd need to flee and build up all they had invested in somewhere else if they didn't take her out and make it look like an accident or blame it on someone else. So why hadn't they done it immediately? The desire not to turn the nightclub into a warzone seemed pretty thin on the ground, really. Bellatrix Lestrange didn't mind wrecking shit, and she doubtlessly had enough money to fix up a nightclub in Bendery.
They'd see it was magic, and Larissa would come with her shock team? Of course, by that standard, Hermione just needed to find a way to get away—to hold the two of them off for long enough to disapparate. She had considered that several times on the walk there, but had decided that there was far too much risk. If Valentina lunged at her, she could disapparate with a vampire's fangs already in her neck.
Bellatrix might do that too, actually. Hermione took a breath, and another breath. Of course, her mind kept swirling back to the best idea, which was to get Valentina on her side. Valentina might be a killer, and Valentina might have a past, but she was also a muggle, or had been, once.
"How does she treat you, really?" Hermione turned away from Bellatrix, and addressed the vampire.
"I'm treated fine," Valentina shrugged. "If you mean Her Nobleness' past ideology, well, I think that she's had to deal with humans enough—and also sees me as more magical than not, now…"
"Oh fuck me!" Bellatrix snarled, and again leapt to her feet. "You just waited out the clock, Valentina! And you probably-"
There was another set of footsteps coming down the stairs.
Valentina grinned. "Your Nobleness gave her word. Part of my duty, as I saw it, was to help you keep it."
What the hell? Hermione wondered. But then she saw the figure coming down the stairs, and she audibly gasped.
Nymphadora Tonks.
I saw her dead, I saw her dead, I saw her dead… Oh Christ.
"Viggy, bring me bloodwine," Bellatrix ordered with an imperious sneer of resignation, and then flopped back down into her chair, and this time pulled a comforter over herself. Hermione didn't notice, because she was standing and staring at the stairs, and …
Tonks was there, standing and staring back at her. Tonks, with shock pale skin, and eyes that flashed in the light against the dark, against pink hair and her usual garb that leaned heavy on black leather.
Tonks, who doubtlessly she had just had a polite conversation with on a British Airways flight to Bucharest, because it was only then that all of this came together.
Tonks shoved her hands into her pockets and looked from Bellatrix to Hermione, then to Valentina, and tipped a salute at Valentina. "You know, I worry about you sometimes, Valya," she addressed the woman with her nickname, "but you are one hell of an operator when your put your mind to it. Thank you for keeping this from exploding out of control."
"You have offered me a family, and that means helping keep it intact," Valentina whispered, and then looked sharply at Bellatrix. "You know, Your Nobleness, that Tonks would have never forgiven you for it. Is that what you wanted, when you saved her at this battle of Hogwarts? I don't think it was, not even then. She is your kith and kin."
Bellatrix angrily took the goblet from Viggy, and glared at each of the three women that she faced. "Well, where are we going to flee to, then? For we will have to flee fast and far, she will bring enforcers at her back, and they will come eagerly, for all of the other threats are defeated and locked up. They will come to finish off Voldemort's Leftenant, and they will do everything they can to stop us."
"The Russians won't let them."
"Then the Russians will do it themselves!" Bellatrix snapped, her lips stained red with the blood and wine she had just drank. "They are no cowards, and all the better, to show that they exercise authority over this territory."
Hermione regarded Bellatrix, letting her rant, as she tried to figure out the relationship between her and the two other vampires. Tonks, well… Valentina was adopted into the family, it sounded like, however that worked for vampires. She desperately wanted to know more, even as Bellatrix mustered a dejected sort of defiance in accusing them of foolishness, while sitting there in her chair, with the comforter over her lap. If she hadn't been so ravishingly young looking and pretty-what the hell Hermione?-she would have looked like something of an old woman, really. And the heat was already cranked up; it was like her grandma's house in that regard.
Hermione shook her head and laughed softly. I suppose vampires feel cold.
Three pairs of eyes that flashed in the light turned to face her. Uhm. That felt very much like being prey, even from Tonks. Hermione rallied herself, and stood up. I need to talk to Tonks. "I … Have been given safe conduct, and was welcomed as a guest, and given food and drink. I have no hostile intentions against any of you for as long as that holds. Unlike some people I know, I'm capable of observing a truce."
Bellatrix looked into the pool of bloodwine in her goblet. She seemed to deflate a little bit. "I thought you loved me, Tonks," she finally said, her voice barely above a murmur.
Tonks cringed, and even in those vampiric eyes, Hermione clearly could, and was absolutely shocked to see real shame there. What is going on?
"That's Bella giving us permission to talk," Tonks explained with a soft shrug, and gestured back up the stairs. They went out to a sitting room, with windows, but of course it was well after dark. A subtle wave of her wand brought the lights up, to show a quaint set of books on the walls, furniture, and some local muggle landscapes, which didn't move as wizarding paintings did.
Hermione sat gingerly, feeling like the questions were boiling over from her as she looked at Tonks. "Is it dumb or right on target if I just kind of stupidly ask what happened?"
"Absolutely not dumb, Hermione," Tonks managed to whisper out a little hint of a laugh. "No, no, it's actually a very good question. To be honest, I spent a while trying to figure it out myself. Internalise it. Accept it. Live with it. I … She saved my life, Hermione."
"...Why? She hated you and your mother," Hermione shrugged in helpless confusion.
"Hatred among close members of the same family … She also loved my mother, 'mione. Genuinely. She wanted to save my life, actually, because…" Tonks sighed and rubbed her head. "With da' gone, she thought that she could be friends with Andromeda again, and tossing me down on mum's doorstep after the Battle of Hogwarts would be the perfect way to prove that. But the Dark Lord pushed even her to the limit. Apparently, there was an unbreakable vow between Narcissa and Severus … About Draco's mission."
"Huh. That makes sense," Hermione frowned, remembering the events of years ago, which frankly blurred together at times. There was also only one reason that it could possibly be important. "Voldemort found out, didn't he?"
"He did," Tonks agreed. "So he told Bella that she had to kill me, or else he would punish Aunt Narcissa for her disloyalty."
Oh shit. From everything that Hermione knew about the Black Sisters, that might have been the one threat that would turn Bellatrix against Voldemort. It showed how very unhinged he was at the end of the war, actually.
"She tried to be Slytherin about it and thread the needle," Tonks explained. "She came up with the plan of, well, uhm. Killing me and turning me into a vampire. It met the definition of His words, that I needed to die. But then she could still take me back to my mother, and Bella convinced herself that was good enough."
"Okay, uhm… So she used a spell to turn you into a vampire?"
"Yes, such dark magic does exist. Of course, it's very old and very dark and… Well, she was the Brightest Witch of Her Age. She pulled it off, but it weakened her. Vampiric magic is different, and harder to focus through a wand. She had 'tainted' her magical core with vampiric magic, so…"
"It burst loose when Misses Weasley hit her with that stunning spell, didn't it? It burst loose and overwhelmed her!" Hermione started laughing, she couldn't help it. Tonks being there made her feel safer, and the situation was so absurd. "Oh Merlin, you mean she accidentally turned herself into a vampire?"
"Yeah," Tonks agreed and grinned. "When you put it that way, it's actually pretty funny."
"Yes it is." Hermione tried to ignore the curl of fangs in Tonks' mouth when she grinned like that, though. She wanted Tonks to just be Tonks, and now she had a million questions. "Uhm… You were in Britain, right?"
"I was in Britain," Tonks acknowledged. "Kind of obvious reason, really. Visiting my son."
"Andy Tonks knows?" Hermione had been about to ask why Tonks hadn't just wandered into the Ministry of Magic to let the Aurors know. Now, she had about another twenty questions to ask.
"...And now little Teddy, too," Tonks agreed. "But we were trying to keep it secret from Harry, you know, so I had to wait to see him after he got older, unless he blurt it out…"
"But why? It seems like Valentina is on your side and there's two wands against one. Tonks, we can just walk out of here right now." Hermione grinned, feeling the relief wash over her that seemed like a culmination of all her fear she had endured for the past two hours, give or take.
"Can't." Tonks groaned. "One, it would start World War Three with my mum. Black tribal loyalty, and all. Mum's forgiven Bella, considering, she did get me out of Hogwarts alive. Sort of. Two, Bella hasn't actually killed anyone since the Battle of Hogwarts, so it seems… Starting a Wizarding World War over competing jurisdictions to try and get to her in Transnistria feels pretty stupid, because, no matter how big Councillor Naryshkina talks, if that strike team hits Bendery, which is in the demilitarised zone, Moldova would respond… And three, I… Bella is more complicated than that, Hermione. And it's kind of a stupid vampire thing, but we're… together."
Tonks said that very smally and quietly, which was unusual for Tonks.
Hermione gaped at her like a gutted fish anyway. "Oh."