Breaking the Window

Chapter 34: Distrust

Cygnus Black sauntered through the darkened halls of Catterborough Woodhouse, a lumosed wand in one hand while gripping his cane in the other. The sound of the setting wood and the wind blasting past the windows were only interrupted by the sharp tap of his cane onto the ground in the empty corridors. He had told Druella that we has going out for a brief stroll through the east wing to loosen his stiff old bones. While true, he had a very different goal in mind.

His suspicions were confirmed when he approached the main office and found lights pouring into the hallway through the glass panes of the double doors. Cygnus approached and opened the doors. In the luxurious and grand office which had once been his, now sat Andromeda, among the portraits of celebrated previous Heads of the Household and behind a heavy oaken desk. His middle daughter was intently pouring over stacks of papers strewn across the desk. Andromeda raised her hand, acknowledging his presence without looking up from her work.

Cygnus stepped over to the desk, his cane clicking on the marble floor. He stood behind her and watched over her shoulder. There were stacks of surveillance reports going back all the way back to 1979. Apparently, she had received a new one today and Andromeda had been comparing notes. The name 'Hermione Granger' appeared on each and every one.

He sighed. After years upon years, Andromeda was still looking for patterns.

"You are still having the girl watched?" Cygnus asked, gently placing his hands on her shoulders and squeezing a little, fingers sliding over the velvet fabric of her finery.

"The little minx cannot enjoy a meal without every bite being duly registered and reported back to me. As it has always been," Andromeda returned. The coldness in her voice did not surprise him, but it worried him nonetheless.

"Andromeda," he said. "Don't make the same mistakes I made."

"Father?"

"If you are always looking for sharks in the water," he said. "You'll eventually start seeing them. Even when they're not there."

Andromeda sat back and sighed. "But it is there, father! I know there is!" she got up from her seat and walked over to the blackboard stood next to her desk. On it were sequences of key events in the lives of both Hermione Granger from 1979 until now, and Bella's from 1951 until 1968. All of them were tied together with notes and velvet red ribbons. "Don't you see, it's all connected! And Hermione Granger is the cause of it all! She is the reason for all of our family's woes! I know it! You can see it! Right there, on the board! The only thing I still can't figure out is the motive! The why of it! I feel it is just out of my grasp, but it somehow still always manages to elude me."

Cygnus smiled briefly. "Did you know your mother spent the entirety of the evening watching Bellatrix through the scrying bowl? I could not tear her away from it until I convinced her that Bella might balk at knowing that her mother watched her make love to her girlfriend."

"Girlfriend..." Andromeda all but snarled. "She clutches a viper to her chest! She's simply too blinded by her feelings to see it!"

"Andromeda," spoke Cygnus, his tone soft. "You are so obsessed with the past that you cannot see the present."

Andromeda shook her head. "If Achille hadn't given her those rituals, none of this would have happened! Bella would have never left us!"

"Who is to say that would have been better for us? Or for Bella?" smiled Cygnus. He sauntered through the office where hung several portraits of his ancestors, the most revered heads of House Black through their long and ancient history. "Andromeda. One day, your portrait will hang in this office. And future generations will see you as the one who brought forth House Black's renaissance, the one who changed the tide of steady decline and brought us a new future. You and Nymphadora. I firmly believe her portrait will hang next to yours."

Andromeda sighed. "Nymphadora's so stoned out of her gourd that she doesn't realize she's alive half of the time. Maybe Narcissa was right all along…"

"Hah," Cygnus laughed. "I was the youngest brother of a secondary branch in a wealthy family whose obligations were none for the longest time. You should have seen me in my youngest days. Nymphadora will step up to the plate. Like I did. Like you did."

"I merely kept us afloat," Andromeda shook her head.

"Did you? You repaired the relationship with our Montana siblings which Orion destroyed. You built bridges, made alliances, grew our reputation. You've brought new blood to our household which it desperately needed. New blood we need more of."

"No! NOT HER!" Andromeda said, pointing at a photograph taped on the board of Hermione and Bellatrix sitting in what looked to be the living room of a muggle home. "This! This cannot be allowed to continue!"

Cygnus pointed over to her desk. "Is that why... that is out of your drawer? Don't think I didn't see it."

Andromeda fell silent, instinctively looking away from her desk. Shame was etched on her gentle features. Shame that she was actually considering it again. Cygnus was happy for it. "If you cross that line it can never be uncrossed. And Bella will never forgive you if it comes out. Andromeda, if you do this, if you willfully take a life, you will never be the same again afterwards. Believe me, I know."

A flurry of memories of war and death flooded to the surface, still haunting him and would continue to haunt him for the rest of his life. Andromeda's heart was full of hate for Hermione and if it continued to cloud her judgment… well, he'd have to find a way to prevent that.

For on the desk lay a contract made with some very shady and discrete people. A contract Andromeda only had to sign. And when signed, those same very shady and discrete people would make Hermione Granger disappear forever.

"It's a last resort," Andromeda whispered. "For when I can't figure it out. I... I should have stopped it!"

Tears burst from her eyes while her body shook with sobs. Her father was upon her, giving her a firm embrace. "I..." she sniffed. "I knew something was wrong, back in 1968. I knew Bella was doing something with shady that girl and I did nothing. Nothing! Until it was too late and she was gone!"

"Bella's disappearance brought our family a lot of pain. And this?" Cygnus replied and motioned towards her desk, the assassination order and the board. "All this, is simply an outlet for yours."

Andromeda said nothing, instead letting out a heavy sigh. She looked at the blackboard one more time. "It's just... I feel I'm so close."

"Come," said Cygnus. "I will mix you a potion to help you sleep. You look like you could use it."

"But..." Andromeda started to say, looking back at the board.

Cygnus smiled at her. "Andie," he said. "If you're really interested in finding the girl's motivation, why don't you simply ask her?"

Andromeda shook her head. "It can't be that simple, father."

"You'd be surprised."

It was Hermione who woke up first when the sun broke through the window. Her eyes fluttered open and her first sight of the morning was Bellatrix. She lay on her back, still sleeping and the duvet only covering her to the waistline, a head of messy curls smushed into her pillow. Hermione smiled and couldn't resist running her hand over her stomach and admire Bellatrix' beauty as she lay next to her.

Two of the loveliest round breasts. Toned arms and legs of a Quidditch player and a flat stomach with that cute birthmark just above her navel. She watched Bellatrix' chest rise and fall rhythmically as she slept. Such a look of innocence on her face.

Hermione smiled and cuddled up against her, pressing into her side and laying her head on her shoulder before pulling the duvet over them both. Bellatrix, for her part, shifted slightly to give Hermione a better perch. "Trix?" Hermione whispered. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

There was no answer from the sleeping girl, of course.

Hermione sighed. That probably would have had a better result if Bellatrix had already been awake. Though she doubted she would have the courage to say it to her face. At least, not yet.

Instead she continued cuddling up again the girl, enjoyed her warmth and snoozed a little longer. So nice. In fact, she almost didn't notice the fact that the door to her room creaked open. "Hermione?" sounded through her sleep drunken haze. "It's nine o'clock. Time to... oh."

Oh god.

Her mum.

Suddenly wide awake, Hermione turned her head just to see the door close again and, judging from the angle, there was absolutely zero chance that her mother had not seen an unclothed Bellatrix in her bed. Hermione simply lay down on her back and sighed. Best to bite the bullet.

After pecking her on the cheek, Hermione left Bellatrix in her room still sleeping and went through her morning ritual of shower, brushing her teeth and brushing her hair. Still clad in her bathrobe, she made her way to the kitchen where her mother was making breakfast. It was a moment Hermione had been dreading and an awkward silence followed while Hermione was making her morning tea.

"So," Emma Granger finally broke the silence. "Did you and Bellatrix have a very fruitful night?"

"Mum!" Hermione hissed, her face quickly turning beet red.

"I jest, I jest," spoke Emma Granger. "Sweetie, you are simply too tempting a target. Is Bellatrix not up yet?"

Hermione shook her head.

"But it's almost ten o'clock!" chuckled her mother. "My, you must have kept her busy last night."

Again, Hermione's cheeks flushed. "Mum!" she hissed.

"Right, right, right," her mother raised her hands while grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Your father and I already had breakfast, but there's still tea in the pot and still plenty of fresh bread to toast."

"Yeah, sorry," Hermione shrugged. "We didn't exactly set an alarm clock."

"Just be careful your father doesn't claim all her time," her mother chuckled. "He has plenty of horror films to introduce her to. I've heard him mentioning 'Hellraiser'."

Thankfully, Hermione wouldn't have to wait for Bellatrix very long. The girl, freshly washed up and clad in her finery, descended down the stairs to join her at the breakfast table. Together, the girls chatted a bit over tea and toast, all the while engaging in some sultry hand holding underneath the table.

Today felt like it would be a quiet day, at the least. She knew she would be going with Bellatrix to her home to meet her family. Hermione was about to ask if that would happen today or tomorrow when she heard the doorbell ringing. At first, she ignored it, thinking it was Mrs. Miggins from next door coming in to have a chat with mum. When her mum opened the door, however, a familiar voice sounded from the front door.

"Is she here?" sounded the voice of Ron Weasley. "May I see her?"

Instantly, and startling Bellatrix, Hermione rose from her seat and shouted into the hallway. "RON!"

The next thing she knew, she was being bull-rushed and taken into a firm embrace. Two strong arms swept her up and refused to let go. "Hermione," she heard Ron say. "I've looked for you. For years."

"Sorry, Ron," Hermione muttered back.

"Just glad you're safe," said Ron. "Got here as soon as I could. Harry is still in Poland following a lead, but he'll come to see you as soon. It's so good to see you, Hermione."

"You too, Ron," replied Hermione. "I have so much to tell you."

Hermione looked over Ron's shoulders while they embraced and saw Bellatrix had stood up next to the table. The curly-haired witch was giving the both of them no small amount of scrutiny. With the way her eyes were spread open and her lips were pursed, it was rather obvious that Bellatrix had received a visit from the green-eyed monster.

For the first time, Ron noticed that there was someone else in the room with them. He released her from the embrace and turned to Bellatrix. Bellatrix was now glaring at Ron, raising her chin rather imperiously. She was sizing him up, challenging him. However, Ron had a far more soft and even somewhat starstruck expression.

"Blimey," he said. "You're her. You're really her!"

"Trix," Hermione spoke rather uneasily. "This is Ronald Weasley, my..."

"Ex-boyfriend," Bellatrix finished for her. "And I am Bellatrix Black. Hermione's girlfriend." Of course, Bellatrix would make a big deal out of this. Of course, Ron being Ron, he didn't exactly seem to notice.

"Oh, yes," replied Ron. "I've seen the papers. Everyone has seen the papers. And literally everyone is talking about you two. I'm surprised the press hasn't swamped you yet."

"Great," Hermione sighed. "And the wizarding tabloid press is even worse than the UK muggle tabloid press."

Bellatrix still had her eyes fixed on Ron, but seemed to relent a little. Ron smiled that goofy grin of his. "I can't believe it's really you," said Ron. "Mum's going to be so jealous."

Bellatrix cocked her head sideways, regarding her 'rival' suspiciously. Of course she would, as that was usually her reaction to meeting new people. "Why are you so interested in me?" she asked.

"May 1967," Ron grinned. "The last Quidditch game of the year. Slytherin versus Gryffindor. The game that will decide the winner of the annual Quidditch Trophy. Not only that, but the number of house points between the two houses is so close that the house cup is riding on the outcome of this. After a brutal and gruelling match, where both teams have lost two players to injury, the score is 20-20 and there's only thirty seconds left on the clock. Adrian Thunderhawk, Gryffindor seeker is about to catch the golden snitch and decide the match. Then, out of nowhere, the Slytherin star chaser shoots out of left-field like a green comet! She buzzes past Adrian, almost knocking him off his broom and making him lose track of the snitch. Then, she makes a beeline for the quaffe and steals it from Gryffindor chaser Amy Radic, knocking her off the broom in the process. With the quaffe in hand and being chased by the entirety of the Gryffindor team, she races towards the nearest hoop, ducking and diving to avoid them. Then, she makes a barrel-roll to avoid the keeper and throws the ball through the hoop to the cheers of the audience and the shock and horror of the Gryffindors. And so, with two seconds left on the clock, Bellatrix Black won not only the match, but the entire year and the house cup. All for Slytherin."

Ah, that explained by Ron was so starstruck. When it came to matters of Quidditch, Ron did know his business. For her part, Bellatrix seemed to have relaxed considerably, smiling even. The curly-haired witch nodded. "Gryffindors whined all through the next schoolyear over that. They were rather sore losers."

"I'm no fan of Slytherin," said Ron, resolutely. "But you won that match fair and square. Hell, dad can't shut up about what a grand shock it was. And how good a move."

"They're still talking about it?" asked Bellatrix. "After more than thirty years?"

Ron reached into his bag and reached out a leather-bound book. Hermione watched in fascination as Ron handed it to Bellatrix. "I brought this for you. I wasn't sure if Hermione owned a copy. Figured you might want to catch up after, well, skipping thirty-three years. Heh, you missed the entire series of misadventures of Lord Moldyshorts. Lucky you, ey?"

After a frowning Bellatrix opened the book, Hermione could read the title: 'The short and tragic life of Bellatrix Black. By Newt Scamander. Foreword by Minerva McGonagall'. There was a childhood picture of Bellatrix on the cover. Hermione remembered reading that book… wait. No. No, she didn't. Ah, there was that headache again.

"Newt Scamander?" asked Bellatrix. "The magi-zoologist?"

"The story I just told is also described vividly in the book," said Ron. "Mister Scamander has always been fascinated by your case and wrote this book: the most comprehensive guide to your life and the mystery behind your disappearance. Scamander had access to family records and interviewed family members, friends, classmates, police, press, you name it. It's the only authorized biography to date. Hah, I bet he'd love to meet you, Bellatrix."

Bellatrix, for her part, seemed a little at a loss for words. She leafed through the book, reading bits and bobs before skimming to another page. She was still with her nose in the book when Hermione's father came into the kitchen and shook Ron's hand. "Ah, good to see you again, lad," he greeted. The Grangers, Ron and Bellatrix, who still had her eyes glued to the book, went to the living room to sit near the warm fireplace on comfortable sofas. Hermione did feel content being surrounded by family and loved ones in a place that felt safe. It cut her to the very bone that there was a real chance that she could very much lose this house forever.

"Ron has been kind enough to come visit," said Emma. "To keep us in touch of happenings in the wizarding world or just... chat with us to keep us company."

"Eh," Ron shrugged. "When the lawsuit started, the Ministry ordered me to break off all contact with the Grangers. Well... 'order' is a bit of a strong word. It was more of an 'firm suggestion'. But they really can't decide how I spend my free time and as long as I'm not sharing anything confidential there isn't much they can do about it."

"Oh, you rebel," Hermione chuckled. "Thanks for keeping an eye on my parents."

"Not a problem at all," said Ron.

"I am curious, though," asked Hermione. "Were you assigned to my case? My disappearance?"

"As the auror who first discovered the 'crime', I was," said Ron. "We found all your notes, books and research. It was obvious that you had been performing blood rites. Frowned upon, but not illegal until you use someone else's blood and there was no sign of that. And then there was the borderline obsession with Bellatrix Black. We consulted experts on blood magic, but gained nothing conclusive as whatever you had developed was something completely new. Some of the books we found were from the Black family library and we, of course, searched the premises after a month-long legal battle with Andromeda Black. To our astonishment, the books were there at the library, never touched since the sixties."

"Yeah," Hermione chuckled. "Bellatrix sent me books from the past. Copies of them."

"We never made that connection," said Ron. "And the case went cold. Technically, it's still open. And so Bellatrix' case. There's a lot of people at the Ministry who are desperate to talk to you both. From all Departments."

"Hah, I bet," Bellatrix rolled her eyes.

"Andromeda Black. Again," Ron chuckled. "That woman is a relentless harpy. She's using her considerable influence to stonewall everyone. But it's only a matter of time. As for you, Hermione, be prepared for some difficult interviews and remember to bring that classic Hermione stubbornness with you. I think you're going to need it."

Hermione nodded briefly. "I really got myself into a mess this time, haven't I?"

Ron smirked. "Hey, as long as barmy dark wizards, ancient basilisks or Ministry take-overs aren't involved, it can't be worse than we've already been through."

Meanwhile, Bellatrix had still been leafing through the book and, for the first time, she started whispering softly. "Evie," she spoke. "He even talked to Evie. She... she... It wasn't just a fling for her. We..."

Seeing Bellatrix' eyes going slightly watery over some undoubtedly nice words her ex-girlfriend had to say about her made it Hermione's turn to be jealous. It was an odd feeling, really. But Hermione had consider that while Evelyn Greengrass was Bellatrix' past, she was her future.

"McGonagall... says such nice things about me," Bellatrix muttered. "Merlin, I was such a brat... and still..."

"Keep the book," said Ron. "Mum has another copy. She's probably one of your biggest fans too. Say, if you ever want to stop by the burrow for a quiet chat, you'll be most welcome. But do expect a lot of gushing and being completely and utterly stuffed full of food."

Bellatrix looked up, closing the book for now. "I'll... I'll keep that in mind."

"So anyway, after your case went cold and the search parties stopped searching, I was put back on the Death Eater hunt," said Ron.

"How is that going?" asked Hermione.

"We caught all of them by now, except one," said Ron. "Rodolphus Lestrange."

"Rodolphus?!" Bellatrix blinked.

"Aye," Ron snorted. "We've been all over Europe, but that unhinged madman is always one step ahead of us. Sorry, Hermione. We're trying out best to catch him."

Hermione closed her eyes and, for a moment, she was back on the floor of Malfoy Manor. Rodolphus standing over her, landing blow after blow after blow upon her. Funny how someone so big on magic supremacy would be so eager to use brute physical violence to torture her. God, she'd been so black and blue after that, she could barely move without pain. Immediately, the images mixed with the elder Bellatrix hovering over her, inflicting pain through vile magics. Taking a dagger to her skin. A headache started to form already, along with plenty of heartache. She pushed it down quickly.

"Puppet," asked her father. "Are you alright? You were miles away there for a moment."

Hermione simply smiled, reached one hand over to Bellatrix and one to Ron, squeezing them both. "I'm fine," she said. "I'm sure you're doing your best."

"Frustratingly enough," sighed Ron. "We almost had him in Liputsk. That's in Russia, by the way. The only reason why he escaped was because the Russian Ministry really doesn't like foreign aurors operating on their soil. While we were dealing with the paperwork, he gave us the slip."

"What do you know?" Bellatrix chuckled. "To discover that Rodolphus is finally good at something. And that thing is running away."

"I've been to the profiling sessions," said Ron. "Chilling stuff. To think you were almost married to the bloke. Ugh."

"Well said," Bellatrix returned.

Emma Granger had apparently noticed some commotion and moved to look out of the bay windows. Almost immediately, she froze and turned around. "Jack?" she sighed. "There's journos in front of our house again. There's a lot more this time."

"Again?" Hermione was almost afraid to ask.

"Oh, bollocks," Jack sighed. "They must be here for you, puppet. Or Bellatrix. Or both."

"Someone must have spilled the beans," said Ron, moving to the window to canvas the situation before springing to action. "I know what just what to do."

Ron asked her mother to bring them two large beach towels which were then promptly folded neatly over both her head and that of Bellatrix. "Right," said Ron. "As soon as the door opens, just keep your head down and run forward. We head for the portkey hub in the Heath. Just run and keep running. Ignore all of them and just focus on getting to the portkey."

"Why can't we just apparate?" Bellatrix demanded sternly while ordering Zipper to come down from the ceiling and going into her bag. The wasp's head popped out once to look around playfully before the curly-haired witch zipped it tight.

"I put up a strong anti-apparation jinx along the entire street," said Ron. "Before I did, journos were apparating into the Grangers' house to go through their things."

"Nice to to know wizarding journalism is still decidedly yellow!" Hermione snapped.

Before leaving, she still had to take a moment to take both her parents into a three-way hug. "I love you both," said Hermione. "So very much."

"See you soon, puppet," spoke her father.

"And stop time-travelling, dear," spoke her mother, in half-jest.

Ron was looking rather grimly at the three of them stood in front of the front door. "Right," he said. "Ready?"

Before either girl could answer, he put his hands on both the back of their hands and pushed them down a little. Jack Granger opened the front door and the three of them went out running. Immediately, there was a flurry of activity as in between forty and fifty journos sprung into action all at once. A cacophony of questions in multiple languages assaulted them, followed by endless clicking and flashes. "AUROR BUSINESS! MOVE ASIDE! MOVE ASIDE!" she heard Ron shout and put some sort of magic field around them to nudge people out of the way. From there it was just a mad dash to the Heath with dozens upon dozens of journos in tow, still taking pictures, still shouting their questions. Hermione heard laughter. Bellatrix' laughter. God, she was actually enjoying herself. She supposed it was good at least one person did.

It was a blessed relief when they finally reached the portkey hub, which Ron operated. The sensation of being forced into a thin rubber tube overcame her and, after landing, it happened again almost immediately as Ron apparated them away to some place in the countryside she didn't recognize.

Bellatrix took off the towel and blew out a load of air. "Wow. So that was a thing."

"Quite," said Hermione after removing her own towel.

"Expect more of this," said Ron with an apologetic smile.

"Right," said Bellatrix. "We're off to Catterborough Woodhouse. No way in hell any journo is coming near my ancestral home."

"I hope you're right," sighed Hermione.

"Well…" Ron gave them a goofy grin. "There's somewhere else you could go first…"