Author's note: I own nothing. This is a daydream that I have been chewing on for the better part of a year. I don't know if I will continue it. I will leave it marked as incomplete in case I get inspiration. All mistakes are mine. This is a BELLAMIONE. Read at your own risk.
It had been a trap. Just like Hermione had said it would be.
She had tried to stop Harry at school, but he had been stubborn. He said Sirius was in danger, that Voldemort had him, and was torturing him. Hermione should have stopped them there, yet Harry was too incensed to see reason.
And now here they were, fighting for their lives against the Death Eaters.
Another spell struck the ground near her feet, leaving a scorch mark and sizzling rock behind. She thrust her wand out casting spell after spell, trying to get back on the offensive. When the Order had finally made their appearance, Hermione thought they'd be able to get the upper hand. Yet these Dark Wizards were more than capable. She found herself playing defense, dodging and ducking, casting shields left and right, just barely surviving.
Then they were in that room again. The one with the strange arch in the center.
It had been going so fast, this small back and forth between them. Hermione had been dueling a Death Eater alongside Ginny when they were separated by a large blast from a Bombarda Maxima. The young prodigy was on her feet quickly, casting a Protego against the flurry of spells sent their way. She kept at it, using her small stature to her advantage.
Stunner, side-step, Protego, step-forward, Stupify, side-step. Over and over, she dueled this masked man, pushing him back and away, until the Death Eater was finally brought down by quick back-to-back stunners. She had been patiently waiting for him to get use to her rhythm, knowing he underestimated her.
She hadn't noticed just how far from her friends she was though. Her back was toward the arch, and all around her bursts of color lit up the large room as spells were cast.
She heard a loud cackling behind her.
"Kill them all for the glory of the Dark Lord!"
Bellatrix Lestrange was up on the center structure near the arch, casting spells at any and all Order members she could see. It was in the next moment when Bellatrix had her wand raised on Neville, his back to her unsuspecting, that Hermione moved.
"Expelliarmus!" she cried, her spell flinging the wand from the dark witch's grasp and into the darkness.
The Death Eater rounded on her, a furious rage on her face, "MUDBLOOD!" she roared, hurling herself toward Hermione.
"Filipendo!"
Hermione wasn't expecting the witch to be able to defend herself with no wand, but the dark witch had cast wandless Protego followed by a slicing hex. Hermione's wrist was struck with a sharp force causing her to drop her wand. She threw herself after it, and so did Bellatrix. Their bodies slammed together, and they began rolling and tearing at each other. Bellatrix was screaming slurs as she scratched and pulled at Hermione's face and hair. Hermione elbowed and punched the witch with as much force as she could muster.
"SODDING MUDBLOOD!"
They wrestled, rolling across the stone, biting and scratching, yanking and pulling, until a well-placed kick knocked Hermione off the Death Eater. Bellatrix crawled like an animal on hands and feet for the wand, grasping it and turning to cast on Hermione. In a last-ditch effort to stop the woman, Hermione launched herself at the witch, tackling her.
A surprised expression crossed Bellatrix's face before they both fell through the Veil.
She was falling. Endlessly.
Until she wasn't.
It was cold here. Empty and painful. No light or sound. Nothing. The darkness was so, so cold. It was tearing at her, burning her. She wanted to scream. She tried to scream. Nothing.
A flash of a memory crossed her mind, chains and rain, cloaked figures, a horrible leeching sensation as they sucked the very happiness out of her.
NONONONO! She didn't want to feel this again! She wasn't back there! NO!
She could sense them flowing up from inside her, the memories she had tried to bury. She tried to resist them, to replace them, but there was so many of them. She fought it. Railed against it.
RESIST! Resist it. Fight. Don't let it win. Fight fight fight fight!
But it was not enough. The dark, painful ones that kept pushing, kept gnawing on her mind. It was nigh unbearable.
Then it was muted. The freezing needles that pierced the core of her being- were gone. Relief enveloped her. There was another, a warmer one. Right next to her!
Warmwarmwarm.
The frigid emptiness was not cold near this one. She needed to get closer. Bellatrix latched herself onto it, needing the warmths of this small thing so desperately. The warmths that it bore numbed the knives of the black darkness.
The pain was incalculable. It took a moment to figure out the severe stabbing inside of her was coming from the thing that had just attached itself to her. She didn't know where she was, but she knew she was still herself. Hermione. She knew that another was there too, wrapping itself around her. Suffocating and icy.
Hermione tried to get away from it. To get it off, but it was so persistent.
LET GO! Letgoplease.
The sharp slices were cutting into her. Things she didn't understand. A flash.
The hand that had grabbed her hair yanked her back mercilessly as she tried to apologize. Another, holding a wand to her throat, twisted into action, casting the Cruciatus. 'How dare you disobey me!'
Hermione was pulled from the strange memory.
What was that? I don't remember that…
The thing that was hugging her shuddered against her.
It's mine… my… past. The thing said. Or maybe it thought, because there were no bodies or faces. Hermione couldn't feel her body anymore. Just herself and this… person?
Where are we? What are we?
I don't know. But I know you somehow… the thing's thought tapered off into repetitive murmurs of warm warm warm. you're so warm.
The voice that spoke without speaking was familiar to Hermione.
The scene changed again and they both were assaulted by the new flash of it.
Hermione was in her second year, and she was terrified. There was a monster in the castle. A monster specifically meant to kill people like her. Muggle-borns. How could anyone hate her so much as to want this thing to kill her? She didn't understand why. Why? WHY!
Hermione remembered that feeling of hopelessness.
Another flash, another memory dug itself into her, but this was not hers.
You are a pureblood witch. You have a duty to your ancestors to carry on the bloodline. You will marry Rodolphus Lestrange and bare him children, or so help me Bellatrix, you will know pain the likes of which you have never felt. Am I understood, daughter?
This thing wrapped around her was Bellatrix? Bellatrix Lestrange?
Let go of me Lestrange. Get off of me. GET AWAY!
No.
She tried to get the dark witch off of her, but this place was so strange and empty and dark. When she managed to worm away, the Bellatrix was shrieking in agony, and the cold that was cold before, was now excruciating. It hurt Hermione. She felt utterly alone. The blankness of this place she was in. No sound. No body. No light.
Somehow Bellatrix was back again. Wrapping around her like a vine. Holding them together. Hermione didn't stop her. Didn't want to stop her. It was less empty with the dark witch.
They stayed like that. Watching, or rather living their memories, over and over. They were sporadic and random. One minute, they would be watching Bellatrix in a quidditch match or pranking the mudbloods from Gryffindor, the next they were reading Hermione's study notes or watching her mother make supper.
There was no sense or reason to which memory was next.
They both dreaded when Bellatrix's Azkaban memories popped up. It was a misery Hermione wouldn't wish on anyone. But one of the worst was when Hermione lived as Bellatrix, being her as she married Rodolphus, and him forcing himself inside of her on their wedding night. If she had a body she would vomit.
The warmer memories were like teeny sips of water on blistering hot days. Not enough to slake the thirst, but just enough to keep them alive. Hermione loved watching little Narcissa laugh out loud at Andromeda and Bella in the parlor reading The Tales of Beadle the Bard, acting it out with the help of their magic. She loved it when she saw Bellatrix's magic at school, and how the skilled witch performed the simplest spells before her annoying classmates.
Bellatrix had favorites too. Bellatrix loved Hermione's parents. Hermione could tell. Their connection to each other made it easy to hear. Bellatrix reveled in the time Hermione spent as a child gardening with her mother in their backyard. She even hummed along to her father's favorite song as he showed Hermione how to fix the leaky pipe under the sink.
Hermione would have thought it strange that a pureblood like Bellatrix enjoyed family time with muggles, had she not lived through the worst of Bellatrix's memories of her parents. The regular chill in her Druella's voice whenever she spoke to Bellatrix, the casual assault of Crucios when Bellatrix had done something "unbecoming".
So it didn't come as a shock to Hermione when she saw Bellatrix latch on to Voldemort and his teachings, like a drunkard to bottle of Firewhiskey. He was one of the few to treat her with any form of kindness… It was a detached, unhuman like, and very flawed kind of kindness. It may have been his last shred of humanity- that bit of what he gave her. Hermione couldn't fault Bellatrix for holding onto it as tightly as she could.
They tried to hold onto the warmer ones. The ones that kept them from the darkness.
They didn't speak much to each other after long. Too tired, too scared, too sad, and too numb to really want to, but they knew between them, this darkness was from the stone arch. The arch they fell through.
Shoved through. Bellatrix corrected her with a huff. Or what resemble a huff in their minds.
It went on like that for a while. Them re-watching their lives, clinging to the happy, warm memories of good times past. It kept going on like that. On and on and on.
The light appeared instantly. Breaking their routine. Blinding and massive, hulking and towering over them.
Bellatrix was in agony, along with others. The others that Hermione and Bellatrix never noticed before. They were far away from them now though, away from the Bright Thing. They shriveled away into the darkness as fast as they could; leaving Hermione and Bellatrix alone before the Bright Thing.
Bellatrix still clung to Hermione somehow, not wanting to relinquish their shared warmth.
Hermione was unaffected by the Bright Thing and the light it gave off.
Curious.
It beckons her. Calls to her. Asks her to come with it and leave the dark behind.
Hermione is elated! Finally a way out of this black nothingness! Out of this nightmare!
She moves closer and Bellatrix hisses.
The Bright Thing says Bellatrix cannot come with her.
Leave Bellatrix here? Alone?
Why?
The Bright Thing does not respond, but again Bellatrix hisses as the light that shines around it intensifies.
She is screaming, wailing. Bellatrix doesn't want Hermione to go.
There's a pinch in her, somewhere deep, that knows she should leave with the Bright Thing, that where it was going to take her was better than here. Better than this hell.
But something stops her, a twinge of regret maybe, a sympathy or feeling of pity, that makes Hermione want to stay. Even though Its light is warmer, friendlier, kinder…
So she does. She doesn't know why, but she decides to stay with Bellatrix.
She moves away from the Bright Thing, turning away from it, shielding Bellatrix as she pushes them towards the darkness.
The Bright Thing says nothing and vanishes. Then the darkness returns. Almost tenfold, the pain returns too, crashing into them. So immeasurably scalding, it chars their minds like blackened barbequed chunks of meat.
It doesn't last though. Another warmth pops up. This time, it's Bellatrix's warmth. The warmth of Hermione choosing to stay. And that tingling warmth makes Hermione glad she did. Even though this is Bellatrix Lestrange, murderer, torturer, Death Eater and Azkaban inmate 093.
So they stay there. Together. No bodies. Just two conscious things... Twinning together around and around. Twist twist. Wrapped up in each other. Stuck there.
Hermione watches Bella torture the Longbottoms as baby Neville watches unknowingly. Bella watches Draco cast an enlargement spell on Hermione's teeth making them gigantic, and the frantic girl crying and begging Madam Pomfry for help.
They've seen them all now, and have since figured out how to watch the warm ones more often. It's a matter of willpower. To summon the happy one up from the darkness.
They hum together as they re-watch the warm ones. Over and over and over. They try not to think about the cold ones. The dark ones. The ones that hurt. Hurt hurt hurt. Hermione tried to keep track of how many times they saw them. But she lost count. Time passed. She knew it did. But she wasn't sure how long.
After a time, they forgot things. She tries especially hard to fight the darkness encroaching inside. But sometimes she gets stuck in a painful one. The memory that hurts. Bellatrix pulls at her screeching maybe. And she comes back. To the warmth. To their warmth. Black cold surrounds them. They know it will take their minds if they let it. So they don't.
On and off they take turns being the stronger one. The one that brings them back from the cold hurt.
And it goes like that. For a long time.
They don't talk anymore. They stopped trying. Takes too much effort. But they listen, and watch, and know each other without trying. Sometimes, when they are warm, another one scratches at them. At their warmth. Wanting it. Wanting to take it. Hermione knows this one is new. The new ones always try and take from them. Bella stops them though. She knows their darks hurt, and Bella has lots and lots of darks. She sends her darks at them. Hurting them, shoving them far far far. Until they are alone again.
So it goes. Them shivering against the cold black, and them trying to be closer. Being warmer. The black takes more of them again. They think, it's just a matter of time before they are gone. Lost lost lost. Like the others.
But not yet.
She thinks they are one now. They aren't. But they're close.
So close. Closer than anyone before. Hermione thinks this may be that thing that so many people want. Want to find. Always looking for. Did she want it before now? Maybe. But... she can't be sure. Too cold to know.
The Bright Thing returned again, but this time it beckoned for both of them.
Bellatrix was wary of it, yet Hermione pleaded with her to go. Where ever they went, Hermione vowed she would not leave Bellatrix. They were one now- as one as they could be.
That thought floated across Bellatrix's mind causing her to relent. As long as she held onto Hermione.
They moved closer towards the Bright Thing, it's light blindingly painful to bear. It enveloped them in its vast wings of white beams and they were in darkness no more.
But the pain was still there and when they were finally deposited, it was a great falling sensation and then a terrible ripping followed. They were being pulled apart!
Screaming and wailing echoed in unison. They didn't want this! They were supposed to go together!
Feelings of betrayal and terror budded inside Bellatrix, while fear and confusion swirled inside Hermione.
Then it stopped.
They were no longer falling.
Hermione released a sigh of relief. Only to gasp at herself! She had a body again. Her eyes opened to the dim empty room. She fumbled trying to move in a body after being without one for so long. She tried to stand, but failed.
Before she tried again a piercing shriek cut through the silence. Hermione whipped around and there behind her, was Bellatrix, sprawled out in an almost amusing way, screeching like a banshee.
"Bellatrix! It's okay! I'm here! We're here together!" Her voice sounded odd. Different from her mind-voice.
The screeching stopped and Bellatrix jerked up, eyes wide in surprise.
The young witch wasn't sure what she was expecting, but having the full weight of a grown woman launch herself into Hermione was not it. They fell to the floor with a thump, Bellatrix crushing Hermione in a bruising hug. The dark witch mumbled and shook against Hermione's robes. Which she just realized were white wizarding robes.
Hermione noticed Bellatrix was in the same, but her robes were pitch-black from the bottom that faded into a grey toward the top.
Hermione held the dark witch tightly, rubbing soothing circles on her back while she gathered herself.
Hermione was relieved too. She had become so close with Bellatrix, being apart was... unthinkable. After a while, Bellatrix pulled back from Hermione, giving her a serious look.
"You," she emphasized with a finger poke to Hermione's chest, "stay with me, always. Understood?"
Hermione, not used to her body yet, felt a barrage of emotions, but her body being young and excitable, decided on arousal. And Hermione being a woman of virtue, blushed heavily at herself all while holding onto a witch, whose body sat so foreign in her lap, that the heat made Hermione want to squirm.
A sharp tug on Hermione's hair pulled her out of her spiral, eyes landing on Bellatrix's.
"Well?"
"O-of course Bella! I won't leave you. I swear."
Bellatrix was taken aback for a moment at the use of her childhood nickname. Only to see with startling clarity, the little witch was as red as a cherry and looking anywhere except her. Hermione's hands were at Bella's waist, loosely holding her in place. A Cheshire smile split across Bella's face as she draped both arms across Hermione's shoulders. She hummed something in Hermione's ear as she wiggled deliberately on the young witch's lap.
Hermione's blush doubled and a panicked expression bloomed on her face.
Before Bella could continue a sharp ringing pierced the room. They scrambled to their feet, alert for any possible danger.
A door that had not been there before- opened into a hallway.
As Hermione went to investigate, Bellatrix latched onto her arm tugging her back fiercely.
"Ow! Bella! Why did you-"
"What are you thinking?" She hissed.
"Well, I wanted to see where the hallway goes."
Of all the foolish things the girl could say.
"Absolutely not. We are not going anywhere!"
"Why not? What else are we going to do? Stay here? The Bright Thing obviously wants us to go this way. I mean- a door literally appeared out of nowhere."
It was logical, her reasoning, and so with a doubtful expression and more than a little reluctance, Bellatrix grabbed Hermione's hand.
"You do not let go of my hand, are we clear?"
"Crystal."
"Good."
They left the room and entered the hallway. When the door shut behind them it disappeared completely, and Bellatrix gave Hermione a quick tug pulling her closer.
They walked down the long, white corridor stopping at the closed set of wooden doors.
"Whatever happens behind these doors, you and I stay together." Bellatrix said, more to herself than Hermione. But the brunette squeezed the older witch's hand tightly, conveying her agreement. They opened the doors together.
It was a library. Not just any library though, this library was identical to Hogwarts' library. Down to the shelves, desks, and the couches. Even Madam Pince's large, circular desk that sat in the center before the entrance was there.
The only thing that was out of place was a woman sitting at the large desk, scribbling down notes and flicking through a large tome, bigger than any Hermione had ever seen before.
"Welcome dears, come forward so we can speak properly; quickly now."
The woman's voice was that familiar Scottish accent Hermione listened to every day in Transfiguration. And when the woman looked up, it was the same warm, withered face of her beloved professor, Minerva McGonagall.
She wore a witch's hat, like McGonagall did, black and green robes, like McGonagall wore, and she also had the broach at her neck, just like McGonagall. She even had the small reading glasses the professor always had, and yet, Hermione knew without a doubt, that this was in fact, NOT McGonagall.
Neither Bellatrix nor Hermione moved at the witch's behest, staring suspiciously at the old woman who was not McGonagall.
"I know the old crone Minerva, and you are not her, so you'd best cut the crap now!" Bellatrix spat.
"Of course I'm not McGonagall. I wasn't, and am not, trying to deceive you. In fact I have no control over how I appear in this room. Even this room has no control over how it is perceived."
Hermione, who was still a bit uneasy, spoke hesitantly, "Then who does? Control what you look like. And how?"
"Why you both do of course."
Bella scoffed, "What the bloody hell are you talking about? We didn't do anything to you or this room."
"If you would allow me, I can elaborate Madam Lestrange, or Black, if you'd prefer?"
Bellatrix turned her nose up at the woman, "Go on then, explain."
"You and Miss Granger here, are dead."
Hermione sucked in a breath. She had known, they both had known, but to hear it confirmed was, frightening.
"This room is where the souls that have passed on to the afterlife are informed of what lies beyond. The room takes the shape of the place where you felt the safest, or the happiest, in life. Because there are two of you instead of the normal one, the room had to find a commonality, hence the library of Hogwarts. As for myself, I am formless, but when I speak with new souls, I take the form of a most trusted friend. And again, because there are two of you, my form takes the figure of a trusted professor and mentor."
Hermione could practically feel Bellatrix balking at the notion that she could ever trust Minerva, but they both knew, deep down, she did.
"What is the afterlife then?" Hermione asked.
McGonagall, chuckled lightly, "Think of the afterlife as a library. Each soul is a blank book that is checked out, and when they die they are returned. Your experiences, all your memories are stored in it. Each person sees the afterlife differently though. Some say there is a God or Goddess, an Entity... however labeled, it is the same."
"We weren't here originally. We were in a dark place. An empty place. Cold and, and…" Hermione couldn't finish.
McGonagall looked at her with a warm gaze. Just like her professor used to. Motherly, almost.
"Humans call that place purgatory. It is a painful place of self-reflection. A place of punishment and redemption."
"It hurt so-so much." She whispered, griping Bella's hand tighter.
"Yes. It is supposed to. You see, the darkness you were in, is every darkness ever inflicted upon another soul."
"That- but that's terrible! Why would-"
The McGonagall look-a-like cut her off with a "let me finish look" before continuing, "When a soul dies, it sheds its mortal flesh, and is summoned -much like the charm Accio- to the Void. The realm of eternal darkness. No matter who you were, or where you came from it is all the same. Many humans believed in a judgment that came after death, this is it.
"The Void will keep you there to bare the darkness, to bare the pain of your actions. Many religions call them sins. These actions of selfishness or hate that dwell in all souls, are the tools with which punishment is dealt. Each sin, let us use "killing" as an example, inflicts upon the newly deceased soul the pain and torment of that act for every act since time began. Every human killed, every life taken in hate, is brought down to bare on you.
"So for you Bellatrix, as you can see by your robes," she waved a hand up and down gesturing to them, "you have led a very dark life, choosing to be cruel and vicious, killing and torturing the souls around you. Hence why you have more black. Smaller actions that are less heinous show grey, and the white that is at the very top near your collar, is all the good you have done. Which was very little, and very long ago."
Bella squeezed Hermione's hand, gritted her teeth, and said nothing.
"You would have been stuck in the Void, if not for Hermione here," she said as she waved her hand at the girls robes. They were pure white, with a hint of grey at the bottom.
"If you had died separately, she would have come here almost immediately. But the circumstances of your deaths made it... not so. It's an uncommon thing, but it happens. Though your experience is a particularly unique one. You and Bellatrix died at the same time, just about. This allowed your souls to be near each other when you died. And as most dark souls do, Bellatrix attached herself to you, Hermione. Much like a parasite, feeding off the inherent part if the soul that gives life to your entire consciousness. Or as most know it, the memories.
"Most souls that have an extreme apathy in their life carry it into their death. Some, like you Hermione, let those dark souls feed off of them. It is what dark souls do when they sense the good. They don't want to feel the pain of their lives. So they take from those souls, those good, kind souls that had the misfortune of being too close. Some are consumed before the Guardians can retrieve them."
"Wait. Wait." Bellatrix huffed, "How can they be consumed if they are already dead? When Hermione and I were, were together… in the Void, we kept seeing our lives and our memories over and over. How can these dark souls, as you call them, devour another soul? Do the souls just- what? Stop existing?"
Again with the smile.
"No. It is in fact the act of viewing or reliving your life that the soul is broken down. Eventually, when a dark soul has suffered the burden of their actions to its fullest, when its memories have been consumed by the Void, it is reset or reborn. Reincarnated. No dark soul ever disappears. They are given a new life without the pain of the first. The lighter ones are taken into the Ether. This is where they exist, for eternity."
"Can souls be reborn more than once?" Hermione asked.
"Yes they can," the Not-McGonagall sighed, "And more often than I would like."
"Why don't you like it when souls are reincarnated?"
"Because dear, that implies that humans are not treating each other with love and kindness. It means the world isn't learning from its past. But this is not a matter we are discussing." She said clearing her throat, "You two died by passing through the Veil. That is the only path from the mortal plane to this one. Hermione, when the Guardian came to collect you in the Void, you refused, yes?"
"Oh! Um, you mean that really Bright person? Yes. I didn't go with them."
"And you both stayed together existing and sharing the burden of each other's actions, yes?"
They nodded.
"Then the explanation is quite simple. Because Hermione shared your pain Bellatrix, she effectively lessened the time in which you were to endure the Void. Though time truly means nothing in the hereafter, still she bore the pain, and now instead of being reborn, you are to exist with the stain of your actions in eternity. Is that what you both want? To stay together, even though you are marked with this darkness?"
Bella looked at Hermione, she was young and lovely, though her eyes betrayed her. Bellatrix could see the wisdom only pain and sadness could teach. Bellatrix wasn't a fool. She recalled Hermione's memories, from when they shared their lives in an endless loop. Hermione had been hurt by people like her. Purebloods and their supremacist notions… She didn't believe in that anymore though. Walking in Hermione's shoes, seeing the muggle world for what it was, what it truly was, was a Crucio to the gut. A wake-up call. No she was not the same woman as before. It was as though the separation from reality brought the sudden clarity to her. She didn't want to forget. She wanted to stay with this young woman, Hermione, forever. Separation was not acceptable. But, her robes were black. Would Hermione be ashamed of her, now that they had separated?
"What's the alternative? Go back to the Void alone?"
Bella was being sarcastic when she spoke, but the McGonagall's double spoke anyway, "Yes. You would be sent back to the Void to finish your judgement."
It was not Bellatrix that spoke but Hermione.
"NO! You stay with me Bellatrix! If-if you go back, so do I. I made you a promise."
Bella stared gob-smacked, at Hermione. Their eyes locked, and even though they were no longer connected in their minds, they both knew what the other was thinking. Neither really wanted to go back to the darkness. Yet after being so close, after sharing their minds and souls, it was unthinkable to be separated. Hermione moved closer to Bella, linking their arms, and Bellatrix grasped her arm with vise-like strength. Where ever they were to be sent, it would be together.
"Very well. I have no choice then." Not-McGonagall said as she stood abruptly, slamming the large book closed, "you both will be permitted to stay together in the Ether. Now follow me if you please."
Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Smiling she looked at Bellatrix, who was trying not to show just how relieved she really was. They weren't going back to the Void. They were going to stay together in the Ether… Hermione frowned as a sudden fear swept across her.
"What exactly is the Ether? Will we still have our bodies there?"
McGonagall's double looked away, an amused smile tugging at her lips; humans would never stop being the curious little creatures they've always been.
"You may keep your bodies if you wish, but there are rules you must follow. As for what the Ether is exactly… it is where all souls go after living worthy lives."