Breaking the Window
Chapter 37: Caller on the line
Bellatrix' mind was moving a mile a minute trying to process what had just happened in Andie's office. The experience had been reeling... and humbling. It hadn't really sunk in before just how long a time thirty-three years actually was. Just about twice as long as she had been alive, after all, and that was staggering in itself.
Her family had missed her for longer than she had been alive. It was only now that she truly started to consider how much pain that could have caused. Her poor mother had some more overt indications, but it was obvious that Andie had suffered much as well. It still wasn't fair to blame Hermione for this, of course, but Bellatrix certain started to understand why Andie disliked her so much.
The Black sisters had an unbreakable bond. And even though it would take more than a thirty-year timeskip to actually break it, their bond had certainly been... stretched. Things would, perhaps, never be the same and that was a thought which frightened Bellatrix the most.
She had been so distracted by her own thoughts that she had been wandering through the house aimlessly. When she came to her senses, she realized she was in a part of the house she didn't immediately recognize. The corridor she was in had the usual wooden panels on one side and tall windows on the other, but there was nothing familiar. Odd. She had grown up in this house. Had some parts of the house been changed during her absence, perhaps?
Bellatrix stepped towards a window, hoping a look outside would help her orient herself. When she looked outside and studied the perspective of the gate and the front lawn, Bellatrix quickly concluded that she had walked into the servant quarters, the part of Catterborough Woodhouse where the servants and their families made their home.
Though her family very much owned the house, it was an unwritten rule that members of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black would not enter the servant quarters without cause to allow their servants some measure of privacy during their off-hours.
Bellatrix turned around and started to head back towards the main living area when she heard some chatter coming from a room to the side. The doors were open and Bellatrix decided to peek through it. On the other side was a rec room which had been adorned with posters and flags from Quidditch teams. There were some sofas, a small bar and a large juke-box radio combo. The room was currently occupied by three young women of different ages. Though they were clad in regular clothing, Bellatrix recognized them as three maids she had been introduced to when first arriving. What were their names again? Ah, yes, Goneril, Regan and Cordelia.
Three sisters.
Chatting, joking, teasing.
They knew each other well. They had a bond.
An unbreakable bond.
Bellatrix felt her heart constrict with envy. Certainly, she still had her sisters but things between them would never be the same due to the simple fact of a thirty-three year timeskip. Looking at these three maids chatting made her long for the old days.
She was about to walk off until the eldest of the three sisters, Goneril, turned up the radio. Instantly, the accented voice of Antonin Dolohov sounded in the room as the two other sisters fell silent to listen.
"… with so many reports of a giant sea monster being spotted off the coast of Norway and even a confirmation from the prestigious Norwegian Troll Hunter society we can safely dismiss the 'official' Ministry press release completely denying the whole thing."
"Of course they'd deny it," snorted Cordelia, the youngest one. "They'd deny the stink of their own farts."
"Ssst!" demanded Regan, the middle one. "I want to hear."
"This monster, basically described as a giant fish over 100 meters long, was first spotted yesterday in the North Sea and appears to be headed for colder climates. Again with us over the floo we have esteemed magizoologist and friend of the show Newt Scamander. Welcome back, Newt. I'm sure you've been following the reports as they come in with your usual enthusiasm."
"I'll say that, it's quite exciting," sounded the voice of Newt Scamander over the radio. Now that got her attention. Newt was a little more soft-spoken than Dolohov, so she pressed her back against the wall, both to hear better and the keep out of sight.
"Keeping your considerable expertise in mind, have you ever heard about such a creature before?" asked Dolohov.
"We're still in the phase of primary sightings and even though there's been plenty of contradictory accounts, I can safely say that this is a creature never seen before," said Scamander. "Sea monsters this size have plenty of muggle legends attached to them, but are usually well known in the wizarding world. Leviathan comes to mind, as does Jonah's whale, but those creatures have long been identified as the Moribund Mosasaur and the Luminous Whale respectively, both well-known magical creatures. This is the first time this particular creature has been spotted and, I daresay, they are a newcomer to this world."
"Imagine that!" Goneril exclaimed. "We live in interesting times, girls. First our master's long-lost daughter turns up and now this."
"Why do you say that?" asked Dolohov.
"New magical creatures, especially one of this magnitude, tend to show skittish or taciturn behaviour. In other words, they are naturally predisposed to remain hidden. This creature? It's not even attempting to hide. It sticks close to the surface and the shore, isn't bothered by being seen because it is used to being the undisputed king of its domain. If this creature has been along this Earth longer, it would not have acted this way. Or we would have seen one ages ago."
"Interesting," said Dolohov. "Following its trajectory, would put its point of origin close to the location of a rumored Ministry Blacksite."
Cordelia crossed her arms. "I knew it! I fucking knew it! Bloody Ministry hiding stuff from us again!"
"You mean the one near Norwich?" asked Scamander. "The one Mulciber jr. revealed the existence of during his pre-trial hearing?"
"Oh, of course," Regan sighed. "Give up the Ministry's secrets and you end up deader than Dumbledore."
"Yeah," chuckled Cordelia. "Hermione Granger is lucky that she has the protection of House Black or I think she would have 'accidentally' slipped in the shower or got her throat cut during a haircut or somesuch by now."
"Like hell..." Bellatrix muttered under her beath, silent enough to remain undetected.
"Yes, folks," said Doholov, addressing the listeners. "For those of you who are not aware, Muliber jr. took part in the daily operations of the Ministry after the Death Eater takeover and confirmed the existence and operation of no less than three rumoured Ministry Blacksites on UK soil. He later mysteriously dies in his cell. Ministry calls it suicide. I ask you, folks, how on Earth did a leather belt find its way into a maximum security cell? That's what I'd like to know. Of course, in the old days the Ministry could blame this on rogue Dementors simply overstepping their bounds and that would be the end of that. But ever since aurors are running the show at Azkaban, things happening there have gotten a lot shadier by far. I can tell you one thing, though: Mulciber jr didn't kill himself. But in the current climate, the Ministry is banking on people giving bugger all if a Death Eater suddenly dies."
"Mulciber jr. didn't kill himself," Goneril nodded. "Never forget that. Never let the Ministry forget that we're on to them!"
"That's just it, Antonin," said Scamander. "I'm hearing reports of more as of yet unknown magical creatures suddenly appearing all over the UK. The reports aren't as impressive as a giant magical fish, but it is an exciting time to be a magizoologist, I can tell you that."
"Could this be the result of an experiment gone wrong at one of these blacksites?" asked Dolohov.
"Hard to say. I mean, it is pure speculation at this point, but those creatures don't just magically come into being if you pardon the expression. They had to have come from somewhere," said Scamander. "It might be a coincidence or not, but I find it odd that all these creatures simply appear so soon after the long missing Bellatrix Black and Hermione Granger are found again. I am not saying that the girls are the cause, of course, but I suspect the two events might very well be related in some way."
Hm. That did give Bellatrix pause. Yes, they had been fiddling with the portals when the accident happened in the Fae Realm. If they had thrown open the portals, that meant a lot of the creatures they had encountered would have been able to escape. Bellatrix didn't know what kind of devastation the accident would have wrought, but it pleased her to know that the animals were at least somewhat safe.
"Ahum," sounded behind her. Bellatrix gasped and whirled around, only to find herself confronted with Sebastian. In the rec room, the girls were still listening to the radio while chatting, while the butler smiled at her. "Are you lost, miss Bellatrix?"
"Ah, uhm," Bellatrix nodded. "I know I'm not supposed to be here. I was just... lost in thought. Wandered. Then on my way out, I heard this interesting bit on the radio and stayed to listen."
"Perfectly understandable, miss Bellatrix," said Sebastian. "However, please allow me to escort you back to the family living area."
That was, of course, just a nice and polite way of saying 'get your uninvited arse out of the servants quarter where you don't belong'. However, on the way out, Bellatrix was hit with an idea which might just solve the issue of Hermione's parents. As soon as Sebastian has left her in the main living area, Bellatrix rushed to the her room on the second floor of the East Wing. After waving to Zipper who was buzzing around the ceiling, she turned on the radio and found Newt and Dolohov still discussing the particulars of Mulciber jr and Ministry Black Sites.
Bellatrix yanked a pillow from her bed, tossed it in front of the fireplace and grabbed a bag of floo powder. She got comfortable, pushed her head into the green fire and whispered the name of Dolohov's show. Her vision faded and for a moment and, through a green haze, she could see a middle-aged lady at a floo switch-board.
"Name?" the lady asked without looking up.
"Bellatrix Black," she replied.
"Hah," laughed the lady without looking up. "Pull the other one! You're the fifth one today."
"Check the source," Bellatrix huffed, now more than a little annoyed. "An old friend from Hogwarts wants to speak to Antonin. I knew him back when he was doing student radio."
The lady finally did look up, only to have the magazine she was reading drop to the floor right next to her jaw. A quick check later, she whispered. "It's... you're... authentic. Hold on, I'll get you onto the show immediately."
The vision faded again, while the chatter on the radio in her room suddenly changed considerably.
"Hold that thought, Newt... Folks, I just got word from our screener that we have a very special caller on the other floo line. Oh, you're going to love this one Newt. We have none other than Bellatrix Black calling into the show."
"Oh, you are kidding me!" sounded a gasp from Newt.
Immediately, Bellatrix vision faded in again and she saw a headphones clad Dolohov sitting behind some sort of radio panel in a small home studio while next to him on a wall-floo was the green head of Newt Scamander looking rather stricken.
"Umh, hi," Bellatrix greeted, suddenly feeling a bit nervous when she realized she was speaking to at least half of England's wizarding population.
"Oh, this is such a delight," replied Newt. "I have come to know so much about you but never expected to actually speak to you one day."
"Likewise," said Bellatrix. "You've written some very nice things about me in your book, mister Scamander. I haven't had the chance to read it all yet, but I promise I will."
"Miss Black," said Dolohov. "Welcome to the show, but I suspect you wouldn't have called unless there is something you wish to discuss."
"I do!" replied Bellatrix. "And I hope to be able to ask something of your listeners too. But let's start at the beginning. I heard you and mister Scamander talking about the new magical creatures suddenly appearing and I might be able to shed some light on that subject. Mister Dolohov, it is actually quite likely that our reappearance is in fact related."
A slight grin formed on Dolohov's face. "Indeed? What makes you think that?"
"Well, Hermione and I found something called a Fae Mirror..."
"Oh, I've heard of those!" exclaimed Newt. "But they are exceedingly rare and... I am interrupting you. Excuse me."
"You're forgiven," said Bellatrix. "I found one in 1968 and Hermione found one in 1998. Though all things considered, it was probably the same one. Together, we found a way to breach it. Breaking the window into another Realm, as it were. There was a whole different world behind the Fae Mirror, which Hermione and I explored. I know how insane that must sound, but I have proof. Loads of pictures and seeds of magical creatures and plants never seen before. We're just finishing up our applications to the Linnaeus Qualification board and it'll be sent out tomorrow I think. We really want our names to be on these discoveries."
"Oh my, how exciting," sounded the now perked up voice of Newt Scamander. "Could you give us a description of the things you found in this different Realm?"
"Certainly," said Bellatrix. "The Fae Raelm is basically a series of magically floating islands and each of those islands were a different terrain… what was the word Hermione used…. "
"Biomes?" suggested Newt.
"Yes, that's it. Sadly, we've only been able to explore four of the fifteen biomes, but we still managed to observe many creatures and take so much seed samples. Some were nice, others… not so. I've managed to get my arm stuck into the belly of a massive toad, we saw fairies dancing above a ring of mushrooms and, well, there was this encounter we have with a monstrous carnivorous black unicorn."
"Such an amazing adventure that must have been," spoke Newt, clearly in awe.
"Are you certainly the Ministry isn't involved?" asked Dolohov. "You might have accidentally breached a Ministry blacksite."
"If we have, there was no outward sign of it," said Bellatrix. "Honestly, I don't think the Ministry would be competent enough to control such a place or even the access to it. If you saw the place, you'd say the same."
"Hah," replied Dolohov, apparently quite delighted in having found another person eager to bash the Ministry.
"No, this was something far older. Or at least, that's what Hermione thinks. So to answer your question, Mr Dolohov, only me or Hermione spent more than a few days in this Fae Realm and we were definitely the first humans there. We decided to explore it together. I stepped in when it was 1968, she in 1998 and we both emerged in 2001. And here we are."
"Good lord," said Scamander. "Fae Mirrors allow people to travel that far through time? Incredible."
"No immediately," said Bellatrix, quite away that she was about to give away a lot of personal thoughts and feelings. She reminded herself, however, that it was for a good cause. "It didn't all happen overnight. The Fae Mirror allowed us both to talk. Hermione and I... we were both lonely, we were both struggling and we were both looking friendship. We found it and we eventually became more than friends. I had my own issues to deal with, such as my impending marriage to Rodolphus Lestrange."
Newt snorted. "Oh, my, if I were engaged to Rodolphus Lestrange, I'd skip ahead thirty-three years too."
"I'd say," Dolohov responded. "A hardened war criminal such as him for a husband would go a far way to crush someone's spirit."
"Hah, as if I'd let him," said Bellatrix. "But to return to my point, Hermione… Hermione was struggling and was suffering far more than I was. We talked so much before we met. She was always so… alone, suffered from nightmares and depression. And I learned later that it was caused by that stupid war that raged a few years back. She often felt that she had nobody, that she'd been abandoned. Thing is, she wasn't the only one. That she has returned doesn't change any of that and she still very much suffers from those things. And now she's heard that her parents might have to sell her house to keep up with the bogus legal fees. She tries to keep a brave face on, but I know her: she'll never admit to being crushed, but she very much is. My sister Andromeda has forbidden House Black from being involved, so I can't help her myself."
"Ah, yes, House Black," sighed Dolohov. "The eternal fence-sitter of the wizarding world. No offense, miss Black."
"Truth be told," said Newt. "I do understand Andromeda Black's predicament. This whole issue is so divisive that no matter what she does, it will antagonize people."
"I am definitely not on the Ministry's side," said Bellatrix resolutely. "Not after all those lies they've been spreading about Hermione. And they can't even keep their own story straight. One moment she's a dimwitted fraud who takes credit for other people's work, the other she's a machiavellian genius who has masterminded entire conspiracies. So which one is it? And, really, would someone supposedly dimwitted be able to break through a Fae Mirror and visit where no witches have ever gone before? Hermione is kind, clever and nothing like that sickening propaganda the Ministry is spreading."
"You mentioned you had a question for the listeners," asked Dolohov. "Well, here's your chance. What would you ask of them?"
"I'm forbidden to help Hermione, but I'm not forbidden to ask others for help. I know you have a lot of listeners who are sympathetic to the Grangers' plight. Your show reaches a big audience and perhaps some of your listeners would like to donate something to help them out. Even a few sickles would help."
"I think that's a wonderful idea," said Newt.
"I agree," said Dolohov. "Any listeners willing to donate may owl their donations to the show's regular owl address. Just add a little note with 'Justice for Hermione' written on it. Our notary will set up a deposit account at Gringotts and we will make sure the Grangers will receive every single knut."
"Thank you very much," said Bellatrix.
"Folks, you might not agree with the lawsuit. You might not even agree with muggles trying to involve themselves in wizarding politics. But I'm sure we all agree that the Ministry should not be allowed to crush the little people by inventing bogus legal fees. Do not let them get away with it. I will be donating to this fund myself."
"As will I," said Newt.
"Thank you for calling in, Bellatrix," said Antonin. "You are always welcome to call in again whenever you want. And so is Hermione, of course."
"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you. Hermione is a bit shy, but I could ask," said Bellatrix.
"If she wishes to tell her story, she will be most welcome to do so right here," said Antonin.
"I do have one question, though, if I may," asked Newt. "The giant magical fish we described earlier. Does that sound like anything you might have seen in this Fae Realm?"
"It does, actually," said Bellatrix. "I know what I just told you sounds utterly outlandish, but like I said, I have plenty of proof. One of those being a giant magical wasp the size of a dog. He's currently sat on my bed. Zipper? Zipper, come over!"
"Good lord," said Newt. "The size of a dog, you say?"
"Not a fan of wasps, Newt?" asked Dolohov.
"Magical insects, especially giant ones, still send shivers down my spine, Antonin."
This fact was proven when Zipper teleported over and stuck his head into the floo. The shriek of fright which followed was quite deafening, though Newt quickly recovered and asked all sorts of questions. Bellatrix was happy to answer them and stayed on to chat until the end of the show. When she said her goodbyes and both she and Zipper withdrew their heads from the floo, she wiped the soot of her face and allowed a self-satisfied smirk.
She had effectively bypassed Andromeda's decree and, knowing wizards and their zealous conviction to causes, the donations would go a long way to prevent the Grangers from having to sell their house. Now to find a way to keep it secret so she could surprise Hermione.
Hermione was dead tired when Sebastian had finally come to fetch her from the library. After deciphering the Black family's incomprehensive catalogue system, she had managed to find some interesting texts on her family history, but she'd have to look into it tomorrow.
It hadn't fully sank in just how physically and emotionally draining this day had been until after Sebastian had delivered her to Trix' room where she had promptly been peeled out of her dress. Laying face down in the gigantic and impossibly soft four-poster bed and her cheek smushed into a pillow, she felt herself getting drowsy already. In fact, the only thing still keeping her awake were Bellatrix' hands sliding softly over the skin of her back.
Back and forth. Back and forth.
An almost erotic moan escaped her lips before she even realized that the sound she heard actually came from her own lips.
Back and forth. Back and forth.
Soft hands and gentle fingers sliding over her back, her sides, her shoulders. A chuckle sounded when the hands lay on her bum for a moment, and a playful smack followed.
And another.
An eager laugh sounded. For some reason, she was certain that Bellatrix was trying to hide something from her. Something good she was really eager to tell her about. Bellatrix was never good at hiding a good thing from her.
Fine. Keep your secret, Trix. Today, Hermione Granger is too tired and too much of a puddle to care.
Soft lips on her shoulder. A bare body pressing down on her back. A trail of kisses leading down the length of her spin.
A soft bite on her bum. Another smack.
"I love you," Hermione whispered.
Hermione found herself being flipped to her back only to find Bellatrix wearing nothing but a very self-satisfied smirk straddling her. Hands rubs over her stomach, her sides, her arms, her breasts.
Fack and Borth. Fack and Borth.
Wait... that didn't sound right.
Gentle nipple pinching. Under normal circumstances, she'd have treated Bellatrix to a little smack of her own, but today? It was hard to deny her body's reaction... her wetness.
"Just fuck me already," Hermione whispered.
"Oh?" chuckled Bellatrix. "Little miss perfect being all naughty, naughty? Dropping the facade, are you?"
"Not so perfect anymore," Hermione spoke with a throaty voice, right before Bellatrix crushed her body on hers and Hermione captured her lips hungrily.
Hermione Granger was never too tired for sex these days.
The next day was spent doing mostly two things: finishing off their applications to the Linnaeus Qualification Board to get it posted and then lazying around in bed all day. Ever since coming home, Bellatrix and Hermione had had very little chance to relax. They excused themselves from the family dinners and decided to simply stay in room all day.
Hermione had rather cheekily told her that it felt quite decadent to make love in the middle of the day and sleep through most of the afternoon. It was actually early morning when Bellatrix first woke up, finding a sleeping Hermione lying on her stomach with her face smushed into the pillow. The curly-haired witch chuckled a bit: Hermione seemed to be tired and sleepy from sheer laziness and decided it would be a shame to wake her.
Bellatrix reached over to plant a kiss on her cheek and shoulders, causing the young brown-haired woman to mumble slightly before smushing her head further into the pillow. The curly-haired witch slipped out of bed and quietly gathered her clothes. A quick wash in the bathroom later and the new dressed Bellatrix slipped out of the room, silently closing the door behind her.
Next to her door, on a silver tray, lay her mail. One letter was addressed to Hermione, which she left for her girlfriend to read. The other letter was a confirmation letter from the LQB stating that their many applications had been received and would be processed as quickly as possible. Funny how they only sent the one letter, rather than a letter for each application.
"Ah, bonjour, Chouchou," sounded the voice of Druella Black. As Bellatrix turned around, she noticed her mother was stood by Nymphadora's room, her niece holding her by the arm.
"Mornin' auntie," chuckled Dora. "Surprised you can still walk after all that, uhm, excersize yesterday."
"Maman? Dora?" Bellatrix asked.
"Ma petite Puce!" admonished Druella. "Don't be crass!"
"Oh, come on, nan," Dora chuckled. "Two young women in love. You know what they've been doing in there for the last twenty-four hours. Are your bed-springs still working, auntie?"
Bellatrix crossed her arms. "Well, we did give them a good workout."
"Chouchou!"
"Right, right," Bellatrix held up her hands. "You're up a lot earlier than I'm used to."
"Don't remind me," Dora almost yawned. "But I promised nan to show her my quad-bike. Maybe even take it for a spin with her."
The mental image of Dora racing her quad-bike with her now elderly mother on the back of it was both comical and frightening to Bellatrix. "You'll be careful, right?"
"Och, don't be silly," said Druella. "I am not an 'armless dottering old woman. Ma petite puce told me it is like racing a broom on the ground. I must experience this for myself, non?"
Bellatrix shook her head: her mother always had this need for speed, no matter her age. It was something all her daughters had inherited from her. Granddaughters too, it seemed.
"Care to join us, auntie?" asked Dora and held up a six-pack. "I have beer."
"Beer?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "It's ten in the morning."
"Your point?" Nymphadora chuckled.
Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Right, I'd love to, but I think I need to have a chat with Andie. Is she up around this time?"
"No doubt," said Nymphadora. "She's always up at ungodly hours. Merlin knows, I've been trying to get her to relax more."
"Ah, Choucou," said her mother. "But you won't find ma Minette in the house yet."
"Oh?" frowned Bellatrix.
Maman had little pet names for all of them. Bella's, of course, was Chouchou. Cissy had the name Bichette, which still amused her to this very day. Nymphadora had earned the nickname Petite Puce. Minette, or Andromeda, was not at the mansion. In fact, she hardly ever spent the night there.
Bellatrix found herself standing in the kitchen of the groundskeeper's cottage. It was a stately little two-story house on the edge of the garden. It was rustic and quaint, fitted with simple yet elegant furniture. On the wall were photographs of Andie, Ted and Nymphadora in their younger days. A particular place of honour was given to two paintings made by oncle Achille. A family portrait of the three above the mantlepiece and a portrait of the three Black sisters during their Hogwarts days at the end of the downstairs hallway.
Being the groundskeeper of Catterborough Woodhouse estate and surrounding lands was a full-time job which Ted Black fulfilled to his utmost. It was here where Andie came to relax and to spend the nights away from everything. Her younger-now-elder sister stood at the stove making scrambled eggs wearing a simple green dress and a white apron, giggling while Ted hugged her from behind.
Truth be told, Bellatrix felt like she was intruding on a private moment.
"So," said Andie. "I was informed of your little stunt calling into the Dolohov show to ask for donations. That was rather clever of you. You bypassed the restrictions I laid upon you and yet found a way to get what you wanted without directly involving House Black."
"That's not what you said yesterday, Dromeda," chuckled Ted, taking a moment to wink at Bellatrix. "I believe your words were 'oh, that little shit!'."
Andromeda turned to face Bellatrix. "A brilliant little shit is still brilliant," she said before smirking. "And a little shit."
Both sisters smiled at each other briefly. Ted noticed this and kissed Andromeda on the cheek. "I'll leave you alone for a bit. I'll be in the drawing room if you need me."
After Ted left the room, Andromeda lowered the heat of the stove to let her scrambled eggs heat for a moment. Both sisters sat down at the kitchen table. "Seriously, do you realize how much trouble you've caused for me and, well, yourself?"
"If you're still angry about…"
"No," Andromeda interrupted. "You fail to realize that the story of your disappearance is a modern legend. People have spent thirty-three years speculating. You've revealed much of the truth. Every word you said to Dolohov is currently being analysed, picked apart and scrutinized by every major publication in the world."
"How is that a bad thing?" Bellatrix frowned.
Andromeda raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious?" she snorted. "I can't move without getting official and unofficial requests for interviews. International governments are trying to decide if they should charge you for the 'massive ecological disaster' you and Hermione have caused. I've been receiving reports that expeditions to known locations of Fae Mirrors have been turning up nothing found, which is a blessing in disguise. The Ministry has redoubled their efforts to 'detain' both you and Hermione for tests and questioning, so there's that. Your story is setting the world on fire."
Bellatrix bit her lips. "Uhm. Oops?"
"Yes. Oops," chuckled Andromeda. "I should have just given you the money you asked for. It's nothing compared to what we're now losing daily in costs for sollicitors, security and bribes."
"I noticed the new golems patrolling the yard," muttered Bellatrix.
The next thing Andie did was reach over to take her hand. "I'm sorry I used your fear of being married off as a weapon against you. It was said in anger. I will do everything in my power to stop anyone from taking your freedom from you. It's been… eating me up inside."
"It's alright. It was all a bluff anyway. I don't want to be head of the household. Never wanted to," Bellatrix nodded briefly. "But I have to ask. Why... this? Why here?"
"The cottage, you mean? I can be myself here," said Andie. "Here I am Andromeda Black. Not Head of House Black, Mistress Black, Madame Black, Special Advisor on Subjects Magickal to the Crown, Holder of the Chalice of Skulls, Protector of the Saddleworth Moors or whatever they decide to call me these days."
"But why?" asked Bellatrix. "You always thought about taking over the house and lamented that you never would get the chance."
"Be careful what you wish for," chuckled Andromeda. "Bella, remember how you used to tell me how lonely being in Slytherin was? How you couldn't trust anyone and didn't have any real friends because you never knew for certain if someone was using you to further their own ambitions?"
Bellatrix nodded.
"Imagine that, but on a much grander scale," sighed Andromeda. "You don't know what it's like. You can't know what it's like. Always pretending to be something you're not. Always walking on eggshells. Always carefully navigating social waters, avoiding traps and backstabbers. Sometimes you just lose... yourself in the role. Don't get me wrong, I love my role as head of House Black. Sometimes, I just need to take a step back."
Without the dress, the regal countenance and with the soft-spokenness, Andie now reminded her so much of how her younger-now-elder sister used to be and couldn't help but find it endearing. This was the girl she protected from the worst excesses of Slytherin 'diplomacy', the girl she warned some of the snakes to keep away from or the suffer the consequences. And still she was so proud that she had come into her own. "You were always such a softheart," Bellatrix chuckled.
"I missed you. Terribly," Andie smiled before, quick as a flash, there was a playful tap to the side of Bellatrix' head.
"Ow, hey!"
"Doesn't mean I don't still want to smack you upside the head!" Andie laughed. Bellatrix quickly lost her indignation and chuckled along with her.
"Prestige is a currency, you know," said Andie.
"Prestige?"
"Yes," chuckled Andie. "Money doesn't mean a bloody thing when you have billions to throw around. The currency the old families deal with is prestige and we're constantly in competition with each other. What prestige is changes over time. Might go back to more mundane things like owning the most businesses of a certain branch, funding certain art galleries or giving the grandest ball. It's all rather petty, but that is how the game is played."
Bellatrix nodded. She was starting to understand.
"Currently," Andromeda continued. "Prestige is to be found in rebuilding and restructuring after the war. House Black secretly supported the Order of the Phoenix with resources and safehouses, so I sometimes drop a few hints which makes journos and historians dip into that, but never too much in case the climate changes again. Pure-blood politics aren't popular at the moment, so we invest in good works such as helping charities relocating destitute muggleborns to their former homes. This, of course, helps the muggleborns, but the ulterior motive is that it makes House Black look good in the public eye."
"It all sounds rather... petty and superfluous," Bellatrix conclused.
"Oh believe me, it is," said Andie.
"Is that why you're trying to change the family motto?" asked Bellatrix.
"No," she replied. " That one is more... personal. I don't know about you, but I find it troubling to be part of a family which would reject me for who my husband and child are. I genuinely believe House Black needs to start with a clean slate."
Bellatrix thought a moment: though she had always been a believer and defender of wizarding traditions, she thought of Hermione, seeing her smiling face in her mind's eye. Hermione was someone she loved so much, but also someone her family... or rather, how her family used to be... expected her to hate, reject and cut out of her life or face exile.
"I agree," Bellatrix replied softly.
"What is this?" laughed Andie. "Bellatrix Black? Going against family traditions? What is this world coming to, hm?"
Bellatrix shook her head. "Sure, rub it in."
Andromeda fell silent. "You're thinking of her, aren't you?"
There it was again. That hint of anger and distrust on her younger-now-elder sister's voice. It was subtle, but it was there. For all her softness, Andromeda was still a cold and calculating Black who rarely gave up her anger and almost never forgave a slight.
"I'm sorry for... for just leaving," said Bellatrix. "Hermione, she... she said that if I said, I would..."
"Yes, yes, yes," Andromeda rolled her eyes. "You'd die at the hands of Lestrange and would be buried in the woods. We've been over that, and you already know my thoughts on that."
"We were planning on setting up a stable time portal, Andie," said Bellatrix. "It... something happened. An accident maybe, not sure what. I would have gone back to 1968. At least explain myself."
Andie smile softly. "You think that would have made it better?" said Andie. "Well, perhaps it would since we at least would have known the truth. But you'd still be gone for over thirty years. That is why am I so angry, Bella."
"Why don't you trust Hermione?" asked Bellatrix. "She loves me."
"Because she didn't have anything to lose and everything to gain," said Andie. "I'm not sure what her motives are and that makes me wary."
"Why not just talk to her? Ask her!" Bellatrix suggested. "She's right here in the mansion."
"Funny. Father suggested the same thing. You think it's really that simple?" asked Andie. "You're asking me to basically play my hand right in front of her."
Andromeda stared at Bellatrix for a moment, until her eyes became slightly watery and she looked away. "Fine," Andromeda sighed. "I'll talk to her. For you. Not for her sake."
"You won't regret it," replied Bellatrix. "I promise you. Hermione is truthful. And you know what it takes for me to trust someone."
"Right," Andie rolled her eyes. "It's probably a good thing that you're not head of House Black. One application of love potion and you'd trade the mansion for three magic beans!"
"Oh, come on, give me some credit," Bellatrix huffed. "It'd be at least five!"
"Fine. Five, it is. But any chatter with Hermione will have to wait until this evening. This afternoon, you, me and Cissy are going shopping, dining and simply enjoying each other's sisterhood," said Andie.
"Diagon alley?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "I don't feel like being swamped with journos during our dinner."
"That is why we will be going to Dubai," said Andromeda. "I have a private portkey chain set up, even. We'll be in and out long before anyone catches on."
Just as Bellatrix was about to write a short message to Hermione, Ted came back into the kitchen. "Everything alright here?" he asked.
"Definitely," smiled Andie.
"Won't you share breakfast with us?" Ted asked Bellatrix. "You haven't lived until you've tasted Andie's scrambled eggs."
Bellatrix smirked. "I do believe I shall take that challenge."