Chapter 13
Hermione selected her teapot, choosing yet again the one with the bathrobe tea cozy. It was the seventh day in a row, but for some reason it pulled at her, like there was some sort of invisible tether that connected her to it.
While that wasn't the only thing that was out of her routine, nothing was actually different. Today was just like the day before, and the day before that, just like every day this past week. She woke up, took a shower, dressed and readied herself for another quiet day of editing news articles.
Hermione let out a sigh. In the past, despite the banality of her daily routine, it felt comfortable and...predictable. Now something seemed to be missing. It felt emptier somehow.
She sat by the window hoping to eye something interesting in the courtyard. Unfortunately, nothing had changed, but she did peer down at the empty bench sandwiched in between two oversized Hydrangea bushes. She had never ventured out there, but she needed more color and inspiration before she dug into her workload.
So, with a determined nod, she verified everything had been saved on her laptop, grabbed her teacup and trotted down the stairs to the courtyard below.
As she exited her building, the fresh breeze caught hold of her wild tendrils. The light on her face felt warm, and the morning breeze gave her a pep that even the tea couldn't this morning.
She paced over to the bench and sat her teacup down next to her. After another fresh look around, she opened her laptop and got to work. Time went by much faster out here, and she enjoyed the change of pace. She had been looking for something different, and while this didn't quite hit the nail on the head, it felt refreshing.
"Hi." Hermione heard a masculine echo in front of her.
Hermione glanced up to see a tall, lanky man with a thick head of strawberry blonde hair standing before her. His button-down shirt was neatly pressed and his khaki slacks looked high quality.
"Oh, hi." Hermione responded, shading her eyes from the sun as she peered up at him.
"Do you mind?" He asked. He grabbed the newspaper from under his arm and pointed with friendly eyes toward the empty bench space next to her.
"Oh!" Hermione jumped, grabbing for the empty teacup and carefully placed it on the ground next to her foot. "Of course not."
"Thanks." He said simply and sat down next to her. "I'm Ian, by the way."
"Hermione." She shook his hand.
"Hermione?" He asked, as if he recognized her name. She looked over at him, his eyes seemed more interested than a random stranger's should.
"Yes." She said slowly, not exactly why she was feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
"You must know, Bella, my fiancé." He said jovially. Hermione gave him a questioning look.
"Bella, she's mentioned you. Up there on the third floor?" Ian pointed up to the flat across the way. The flat of Black Beauty.
Hermione choked back her surprise. Had Black Beauty seen her? Had she been caught spying on her neighbors across the way? She was sure she was much more subtle than that.
"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about." Hermione flustered.
"Of course you do." He joked, but it seemed more and more like he wasn't. "You went with her to the party the other night. She picked you up at your flat, just there?" He pointed to the flat below Black Beauty's.
"Your fiancé must have the wrong person." She answered tersely. The enjoyable morning had now become tense and uncomfortable. "I don't live in that flat. I live in the one over there." Hermione pointed up to her inconspicuous flat.
She watched as confusion crossed the man's face and he tightened his jaw. "Oh, right." He trailed off. "Wrong flat."
Then without another word, he stood up, bid her good day and left.
Hermione wasn't sure why, but a nervous hum settled into her core. Though nothing untoward had happened, she had the sinking feeling that she had said or done something wrong. And despite trying to finish editing outside in the beauty of the day, she made her way back inside, up to her room, checking twice that she had locked the door.
That evening had been oddly quiet. She had eaten a boring dinner of a poorly prepared Spaghetti Bolognese and settled on her chair looking out of the window. Unfortunately, there were just as little going on outside of her flat as inside. The Golden Oldies were the only ones in their flat, yet again watching a movie she struggled to make out.
Knock, knock. Hermione slowly turned to her door. It was nearly 8:30 at night, who would be coming to her door at this hour?
"Hermione!" A peppery-sweet voice called from the hall.
Hermione walked up to her peephole and stopped short. It was Black Beauty, with Ian standing unusually close behind her. Even without the jet black hair, her black outfit was exactly her. The height and elegance of a dark horse, and the mischievous glint of a black cat.
"What do you want?" She asked carefully, no longer feeling safe to open the door.
"We just wanted to check on you, dear. I was worried after the other night." She smiled, looking directly into the peephole.
"I'm fine. Please go." She responded shortly.
She watched as Black Beauty looked over at Ian with a 'now what?' glare. Ian looked over his shoulder as if he was worried they would be found out. Hermione felt the hairs stand up on end again. He gave her the creeps.
"I'm not sure how much time we have." Belladonna looked back at Ian.
"Then, let's get on with it." He said, waving his hand at her door.
Hermione reflexively backed up. She watched in horror as the lock on her door slowly switched into the unlocked position. How did they have a key? Hermione grabbed for the pair of scissors sitting neatly in her desk pencil cup and held it out as the door slowly creaked open.
"Hermione, I'm not here to hurt you." Black Beauty paced into her flat, Ian trailing behind. She stood out like a sore thumb in Hermione's apartment. As if she was a Museum of Modern Art stuck back in the Dark Ages. She just didn't fit.
"Get out of my flat." Hermione growled, though the hand she held her scissors in shook violently.
She managed a glance down and saw Belladonna holding the most odd thing. Of all the couture purses she owned, she was instead grasping a stick, and pointing it at her.
"Hermione, I know you're not a muggle. It's time to give up the charade. This doesn't have to get ugly."
"Muggle?" Hermione was thoroughly confused.
Black Beauty rolled her eyes.
"That's exactly what happened earlier, Bells." Ian said as he walked over to the wall of teapots. "And look…" He tapered off.
"It's got to be her." Black Beauty breathed.
"Hermione, I promise, if you come with us, I won't hurt-" Black Beauty was cut off by the sound of Hermione's door exploding into the room.
Hermione pulled herself back into a corner as a woman and man barreled in. They both looked slightly dazed, and Hermione was surprised to see them both wearing aged robes. Hermione laughed that of all the crazy things going on right now, that was what she had latched onto.
"Stupefy!" Called one of the strange intruders.
Hermione tripped over herself and onto the sofa when she saw the green light bolt out of his stick and toward Black Beauty.
Along with her gorgeous looks, Hermione could tell she was also ferocious and flung her stick back towards the two at the door.
"Avada Kedavra!" She yelled, a bolt of emerald lightning shooting toward them. The one on the left was able to dodge towards the floor, while the other was struck in her chest.
Hermione watched, unable to move as the woman crumpled to the ground.
"Andrews!" The man on the floor called after his companion. His voice was choked, but he quickly came to and Ian grabbed the wand out of his hand.
If Hermione had a bowl of popcorn with her, she would have sworn she was watching a Hitchcock film.
"I tried to let you live. You just had to follow us up here." The woman called down to the defiant man on the floor. Hermione watched him glance over at her with apologetic eyes.
"Belladonna Lynde, you are under arrest."
"Well, at least you aren't begging." She compromised as she pointed her wand at him.
"Don't do this." Hermione called out.
Belladonna looked at Hermione, then at Ian. Ian returned a confident nod.
"Avada Kedavra." Belladonna got out, almost regrettably.
Time stopped as Hermione watched the emerald light shoot out from her wand again and end the man's life. His vacant eyes stared at her as it lay motionless on the floor.
"I thought you said you weren't going to hurt anyone." Hermione whispered, still sitting frozen on the sofa.
"We gave them the opportunity to live down the hall...They came anyway. And besides, I said weren't going to hurt you...yet." She answered.
Hermione crossed her arms as if she didn't accept their reasoning.
"We don't have any other choice…" Belladonna looked over at Ian with something Hermione couldn't quite place for a murderer, was it insecurity?
"That's right." Ian said with the confidence that Belladonna lacked. "And if you want to live, you are going to need to tell us what we want to know."
Before Hermione had a chance to start down her long-winded reasoning of why she would be the last person anyone would need to do anything, Belladonna held her stick up to Hermione's face.
"It will just feel like sleeping…" Belladonna assured her.
"Please-" Hermione whispered to her, but it was no use.
"Somnium." Belladonna's voice floated through the air and the word that came out sounded like a lullaby.
Immediately, Hermione's eyes drooped, her body felt heavy, and eventually, everything went black.
It wasn't unusual for Hermione to dream of teapots, but this felt different than the others. Typically her dream teapots were wild colors with frills and dancing singers. This time, it looked old and worn. There were no frills, just her, inside the teapot, standing there with the walls humming around her.
The vibration was strong and it intensified. There was tea beneath her, and it was slowly filling and filling while also growing warmer by the second. She tried to climb up the walls, but couldn't. As if the teapot itself could tell what she was doing, the vibration got louder and louder. The tea encasing her waist began to bubble as if she was in a jacuzzi, but now going far beyond that. She could feel it burn. Hotter, hotter still, until-
Hermione jerked awake, but was surprised to find that she couldn't move. Her neck ached from leaning forward, and she could tell without opening her eyes that she was tied to a chair.
Slowly, with painstaking detail, her last waking moments flashed through her mind. Black Beauty. Ian. The robed pair and the sticks. Death.
Coming to her senses, she heard harsh whispers nearby. She feigned slumber as she carefully arched her head to listen to the conversation nearby.
"I told you, you should have used a more temporary spell. It has been twelve hours. We don't have time for this." Hermione notated the aggressiveness in Ian's voice. He was both panicked and frustrated.
"And who's the witch here?" She spat back.
There was a harsh silence.
"I'm sorry." Belladonna relented. "I'm just stressed. I've...killed five people." She breathed shakily.
"For us, Belladonna. You did it for us. Because our love is more powerful than anything. And soon, when we can both do magic, we will be too."
Hermione wasn't sure which thing to freak out about first. Magic being real. Being kidnapped. Or having to listen to two love-sick lunatics.
"Maybe we can just slap her around a little." Ian offered. "Get her blood flowing."
"No." Belladonna responded. Hermione was relieved that at least one psychopath had control over the situation. "I don't want to risk anything happening to her mind before I go in."
Hermione almost choked out loud when she heard the words. Go in?
She tried to wriggle as inconspicuously as possible. Though she felt some of the rope loosen, it was useless. She was stuck.
"Oh, you're awake!" Ian's languid voice issued, causing Hermione to stiffen.
"Shit." She lifted her head up and took a quick moment to look around. She sat in what looked akin to her great grandmother's living room, but with no windows. Instead of a sofa in the center of the rug, Hermione sat in her chair. There was only one extra wide door that opened into a nearby room where she saw the couple coming from.
"Hermione, you can drop the act now." Belladonna said sweetly as they both rounded and stood in front of her. Belladonna rolled her wand between her fingers and Hermione watched it cautiously.
"Seriously, you've got the wrong person. I have no idea what is going on here." She said earnestly.
"I know you're a witch, Hermione. You don't have to play games now." Belladonna smiled.
Hermione gave out a high pitched laugh. "Did you just call me a witch?"
Belladonna and Ian both remained stone-faced, looking at her expectantly.
"Okay, so you're psychopaths and certifiably insane then." Hermione tried to reason with herself.
Belladonna grabbed something from her pocket. A necklace, and placed it over her head.
"Okay, the painful way then." Belladonna responded, losing the last bit of her patience.
Hermione couldn't tear her eyes away from it. A blue amulet of some sort, and the light emanated from the oval shaped jewel at the center.
"Oww" Hermione tried to pull her hand up to her head. "Oww!" She yelled again. "Stop." It felt like a spike poking gently at the sensitive parts of her brain, but not physically, instead from the inside.
"Something's wrong." Belladonna called over to Ian as she moved closer to Hermione. It was as if she was inspecting her brain, but not with actual medical equipment.
"Ahh." Belladonna called triumphantly. "She was Obliviated." With a smile, Belladonna got close again. "Don't worry dear, this will make sense in a moment."
Hermione shrieked as she felt an invisible long tipped blade stab her mind. It was sharp and hot. Hermione was sure this was what a lobotomy felt like.
Then, as soon as the searing pain had begun, it had subsided. All she could feel now was something akin to a tender bruise in the corner of her mind. But that wasn't the only result. Memories slowly began to slip into her thoughts. And in each of those memories, there was one, undeniable, ever present face.
"Ron."