Breaking the Window

Chapter 39: Emotional Support Wasp

Hermione had to admit to not having eaten much during dinner. As embarrassing as the events of the day had been, not having the room in her stomach for another bowl of that absolutely fantastic icecream was just… vexing and disappointing. In truth, Hermione still wasn't feeling all that great: lightheaded from the brownies and nauseous from overeating on crisps. There was nothing more she wanted than to lie down after dinner and never get out of bed again.

Zipper had apparently noticed her distress and had crawled onto her lap, after which Hermione quickly picked him up. He had spent most of the time rubbing his head against her as she held him and fed him bits of sugar. Funny, it seemed so long ago that she had balked at coming anywhere near that intrusive, alien magical giant wasp, but now? Now, Hermione reminded herself to hug her pet more often because the unconditional love they could give freely was fantastic on good and on bed days.

Funny, really, how much Zipper started to remind her of her old now long dead family dog. Chaucer was a stubborn old dachshund, but always seemed to sense when Hermione was having a bad day and made an extra effort to cuddle. He was sort of the same size as Zipper and settled against her chest in much the same way. The warm memories did wonders for her mood.

At least Andromeda hadn't been berating her during the course of dinner, so that was a plus. While Bellatrix was rather animatedly telling everyone gathered about the dancing dervishes she had seen in Dubai this afternoon, Andromeda had been rather quiet and reserved for the most part. Almost… unsettlingly so.

Though Hermione considered it just might be a bout of paranoia from her coming down hard after an hours-long unwanted high, she did catch Andromeda staring at her a few times. If she didn't know any better, she'd think that she was being… studied. Her suspicions were confirmed when Andromeda asked her to join her for a serious talk in her office.

"I have a few questions for you," said Andromeda, her voice a little hushed. Hermione head turned, seeing Bellatrix telling her story to her attentive mother while Narcissa looked on with a smile. "Don't worry about Bella. Cissy and mother will keep her occupied. This evening, you and I will have a long overdue chat."

"Uhm," said Hermione, regarding the wasp in her arms.

"Bring the bug if you so desire," said Andromeda.

Bellatrix hardly noticed when the two of them slipped away from the table, but Hermione gathered that was by design: most of what Andromeda Black did seemed to be by design. The two women walked side by side mostly in an awkward silence as they passed through the halls of the manor. Zipper didn't fly after her like he usually did, but rather elected to be carried today. Hermione did notice, however, that they didn't go directly to the office. Instead, she was surprised to see Andromeda heading into the chapel. Hermione stood next to her as Andromeda took a small copper coin from the bag and tossed it into the offering bowl in front of the Horned God before she briefly bowed her head in reference. Just like Trix had done while giving her her first tour of the manor.

Hermione took notice of this. In fact, she took more than just notice. Hermione also picked up a coin and put it into the offering bowl. Andromeda frowned at her in surprise, before giving her a nod and leading her out of the chapel. Apparently, Hermione's respect for family tradition had been appreciated.

Their trek through the manor continued, but Andromeda suddenly spoke up. "I can tell by the bags under your bloodshot eyes that my daughter managed to trick you into eating one of her special brownies," she said, not waiting for a reply. "Don't feel too bad. Nymphadora does this to everyone. The staff, her family, visiting dignitaries. Hell, even maman. The only one she never managed to dupe was me, though it isn't for the lack of trying. She once replaced my favourite tea biscuits with a near exact copy laced with cannabis. Unfortunately for her, she wasn't able to mask the smell."

She had to admit that the idea of a stoned Druella was oddly comical.

"Were that Nymphadora would put the same effort in doing something useful with her life," replied Andromeda.

"She's been rebuilding a classic Bentley," Hermione offered. "And, to be honest, while it was true that Nymphadora gave me one brownie, it was Draco who fed me the other two."

Andromeda sighed. "Cissy often gives me a bollocking about Nymphadora, but she's throwing stones in glass houses."

Hermione was led in what seemed to be some administrative offices. A massive set of double doors lay ahead while on either side of the corridor were some open rooms where desks for what seemed to be secretaries, clerks and maybe an accountant or two could work. Andromeda strode past this area and threw open the double doors as if she was the queen of England.

"Tea, miss Granger?" asked Andromeda as the two of them entered her office. Rather than sit down at her desk, Andromeda guided her to a set of sofas near the tall windows. Sitting at an angle of each other rather than opposite to each other already felt considerably less hostile. Regardless, she held onto Zipper as she sat. Hermione still felt as if she had entered the dragon's den, but Zipper was only too happy to serve as a cuddly comfort wasp.

"Please," Hermione smiled, wondering if this could be a new beginning for the two of them. Or perhaps the beginning of the end.

Andromeda conjured a beautiful silver tea service. Hermione put her usual two lumps of sugar into the cup and took a few sips while Andromeda did the same. Outside the window, night had fallen and the wind was howling across the yard. As winters go, this one was rather lacklustre. One could only imagine what the view from the office would be like when the yard would be covered with snow. Hermione imagines a beautiful winter wonderland. It was a shame that the Blacks didn't celebrate Christmas, because the view would be utterly perfect, especially with a decorated tree right next to the fireplace.

"Miss Granger," Andromeda asked. "Do you know why I've asked you to speak in private?"

Trix, she obviously wanted to talk about Trix and their relationship. Still, Hermione didn't really want to spell that out yet: better to have Andromeda spell it out herself, so Hermione decided to go for a more neutral answer: 'I don't know'.

"You want to talk about Trix and our relationship," replied Hermione.

Wait? What?

She hadn't meant to say that.

Immediately, she adopted a stricken look while clamping her mouth shut. She looked down at the teacup and then back at Andromeda. "Veritaserum. You put veritaserum in my teacup."

"Not your cup. The pot," said Andromeda. "Which I also drank from. I have nothing to hide from you in my own house, miss Granger. We are on equal footing now. No games. No veils. I do not have time for it. Believe me when I say that I love my sister dearly, miss Granger. I will protect her from harm. And I am not convinced of your good intentions."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, clutching onto Zipper a little tighter. "I love Trix. Dearly. We were good friends before we became girlfriends. Believe me when I say I never meant her any harm nor do I mean her any harm."

Andromeda let this sink in for a moment, but seemed pleased with that answer. "That's a good start. It truly is. But not meaning any harm doesn't mean you won't be harmful to her."

"What do you want me to say?" said Hermione, her eyes narrowing. "You already have your lie detector on me. So ask your questions."

"Miss Granger, you are an enigma to me," said Andromeda. "I can usually read people the moment they enter my door, but you have eluded me since I met you. No, you have eluded me since the day you were born!"

Hermione frowned. "What… what do you mean by that?"

Andromeda stood up from the sofa and waved her wand. A small table full of boxes with papers appeared near the sofa's, right next to a blackboard. "Miss Granger, you've just made me do something I have never before done in my life: you've made me play my hand. Go on. Take a look."

Hermione stood up, wasp still clutched to her chest and rather warily stepped towards the boxes of files. Dread started to take form in the pit of her stomach and she didn't quite know why at first. Until she took a few files from the box and opened one of the folders with a free hand. Reports. Photographs taken from a distance. Evaluations. The particular file she had opened was a monthly report of her comings and goings at Hogwarts from her fourth year. The photographs were of her, Harry and Ron taken in the great hall, at the Quidditch pitch, in the Gryffindor common room, even in class. There were lists of grades for that month, her interactions with other people were thoroughly documented.

Already quite stricken, she grabbed another folder and opened it. It was another report of monthly surveillance, this one quite old. It had photographs of her mum dropping her off at Reception in the muggle world when she'd been six years old, documentation about her behavioural patterns as well as educational and personal development.

A third folder was grabbed. This was a more recent one and a much thicker folder. A big red stamp had been put on several of the papers inside which read 'Urgent! Contact with subject B has been made'. There was a photograph made of her, apparently with a night-vision scope. In the photograph, she was sat at the edge of the Fae Mirror at the Forbidden Forest, looking into the pool while talking with Trix.

Worse yet, was the blackboard. 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.

Hermione felt faint, her mind reeling with the implications of this all. "What…" Hermione stammered, her voice cracking with a mixture of shock, surprise and growing anger. "What is this?!" she demanded.

"When Bellatrix first disappeared," said Andromeda. "We had very little to go on. Oh, we knew that Bellatrix had been talking to one 'Hermione' for weeks, possibly months. We knew both of you were involved in blood rites. Cissy and I did some legwork, even though nobody believed us. We struggled for years trying to find out more until… Cissy eventually told me she couldn't do it anymore. That we had to move on. But then oncle Achille remembered a conversation he had with Bella in the past. That's when we learned about the Fae Mirror and its unique properties."

"That's when you found out…" Hermione whispered. "That the girl you were looking for had yet to be born."

"We had no idea when that would actually happen," said Andromeda. "Of course we hoped you would return to us during our lifetime, but we realized that if the 'Hermione' we'd been looking for had been born, it would only be a matter of time before we'd find ourselves on the other side of the window, in a manner of speaking."

"You've been waiting for my birth?" asked Hermione.

"Correct. You've been under surveillance since the day you were born. This is only the tip of the iceberg. I have reports in my vaults on you as thick as the bible. You couldn't so much as sneeze without me knowing about it," said Andromeda. "It was just me and oncle Achille who knew. We didn't want to give my parents false hope and Cissy was trying to deal with her grief by moving on. I understand you might be a bit shocked. Or perhaps you might even feel a bit violated."

Hermione tossed the folder down, spinning on her heels. "Violated doesn't even begin to describe how I'm feeling right now!"

Andromeda nodded briefly. "Understand our position. We've only heard your name mentioned in passing, so we were never sure of your character or intent. Odd, really. We were expecting you to be Slytherin."

Hermione didn't know if she should be flattered or insulted by that. "And what do you think of me now? Surely with nineteen years worth of surveillance reports, you should have a good idea of who I am and what I'm like!"

"You stood up against Voldemort and you are academically gifted, I'll give you that," said Andromeda. "But you are also someone who seeks approval and validation. You are someone who is eager to prove herself an asset to a wizarding world still obsessed with blood purity. Further reports of your PTSD and unstable behaviour after the war were… troubling."

Hermione let out an embittered laugh. "Ironic how someone who's been keeping tabs on me knows more about my mental situation than the people supposedly closest to me."

"I'll be frank, miss Granger, I still don't trust you. I'm still not convinced of your intentions," Andromeda crossed her arms. "You are an enigma to me. And therefore a dangerous unknown. That you have Bella wrapped around your finger concerns me even more."

Hermione cast her eyes downward, keeping her voice low. "I've only ever tried to do what's best. That's all any of us can do."

"Don't patronize me!" Andromeda shouted lashing out to grab Hermione by the shoulders, the wasp buzzing his wings in between them but making no aggressive move. "You took my sister away from me! I want to know why! I DEMAND to know why!"

Hermione made no move to free herself from Andromeda's grasp. "That's it, isn't it? It never occurred to you that I just wanted to help. I met a sad, lonely girl in the woods. I was a sad, lonely girl in the woods. These two girls forged a friendship in the hopes that the both of them would become less sad and less lonely. These two girls fell in love. We wanted… to help each other. I wanted to make things better for Trix."

"By taking her away from her family?!" Andromeda hissed, glaring at her and apparently searching her expression for lies and, to her frustration, finding none.

Hermione closed her eyes. "That's the thing with you Slytherins. You jump at shadows. You see conspiracies, double meanings and politics everywhere. But never did you consider the obvious, because you refuse to see it: I wanted to do a good and decent thing. A wise muggle once said: sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. Doubt me all you like, but never doubt my feelings for Trix!"

"I said I don't trust you and I meant it!"

"DO YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW THE TRUTH?!" Hermione shouted all of a sudden, startling both her and Zipper. "YOU THINK THINGS WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER IF TRIX HAD STAYED IN HER OWN TIME, BUT YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED!"

The pain in her head was already starting to sting, but she was beyond caring at this point. "She would have fallen under Voldemort sway. She would have become his most loyal servant. She would have done terrible things in his name. Look around you, and take a long and hard look, because these are all the things you would not have if Trix had stayed in 1968. Trix doesn't even know this, mercifully."

Andromeda shook her head. "Preposterous! I simply do not believe that Bellatrix could ever be a Death Eater," said Andromeda. "The sister I know and loved would never have submitted herself to them!"

"You forget that I cannot tell a lie at the moment," Hermione replied, somewhat more smug;y than she first intended. "And I have proof. Let me show you something," she said. Andromeda looked on as Hermione started to unbutton her sleeve and held out her bared forearm for her to see the word 'mudblood' crudely carved in her flesh. "A little souvenir from the war, from the floor of Malfoy Manor."

"Are you taking the piss?" Andromeda all but snarled. "Rodolphus Lestrange did that. Your torture at his hands is well known to me."

Hermione nodded. "You are correct. Rodolphus Lestrange tortured me. Beat me. Nearly killed me. But he never did this. By all accounts, this scar shouldn't exist. It's a remnant from the old time-line. It hurts my head to look at it."

"And you claim Bellatrix did this to you?" Andromeda said. The head of House Black stepped towards the box of files and fished out a folder. When opening the folder, Hermione could see over her shoulder that it contained photographs of her… 'condition' after Rodolphus' tender loving care. Though it was somewhat troubling to realize that Andromeda knew the date of her violent torture off the top of her head, her suspicions were confirmed when Andromeda put down the file.

"There's no mention of this scar in the file. It doesn't show up in the photographs either," said Andromeda. "My agents wouldn't miss a detail like that..."

"Don't ask me why it's on my arm if it didn't happen in this time-line," said Hermione. "Because I simply don't know the answer to that. Yes. Rodolphus Lestrange did torture me to a point that I almost died that day at Malfoy Manor. But this? This was all Bellatrix. As much as I hate the woman who she would or could became, so much do I love the girl that she was... that she is. Believe me that I wanted to help Bellatrix, to give her a second chance at a better life. By helping her, I would help myself too."

"How do you even know all this?" Andromeda asked.

"I have memories of both the old and the new time-lines," said Hermione. "But it seems like the universe wants me to forget the old one. I get splitting headaches and eventually attacks if I think too hard upon the memories of the old time-line."

"What is different?" asked Andromeda, now obviously intrigued. Good, that means that the Black matriarch was starting to listen.

Hermione pressed on. "It's confusing. Bloody hell is it confusing. I wanted to help Bellatrix by preventing her murder, but… I also wanted to help her by preventing her from becoming a Death Eater. It's… I prevented one fate and caused another. Because I plucked her from the time-line in 1968, everything changed, even my own memories. I think. Sometimes it feels as if I've lived two lives. The very reason for wanting to save Trix changed, but I wanted to save her just as much."

"You do realize just how preposterous this all sounds?" Andromeda replied.

It made sense to Hermione: she had experienced it after all, but one look at Andromeda's expression told her everything. "Even with the veratiserum, there isn't anything I can do or say to convince you that I'm telling the the truth and have good intentions."

Andromeda nodded. "Probably not," she sighed, also only being able to speak the truth. "This was a pointless undertaking."

"No," said Hermione. "I have an idea. Maybe if I can't convince you with words, perhaps you could see for yourself."

Andromeda nodded in understanding. "You would allow me to look into your mind?"

"I would," said Hermione. "See the truth with your own eyes. In a manner of speaking."

Hermione and Andromeda sat back at the sofa and the two of them discussed the procedure and the limitations. Andromeda promised not to intrude on Hermione's most private thoughts and would strictly adhere to the memories Hermione would allow her to see. A few moments later, she felt the thoroughly unpleasant feeling of another mind touching hers. It was as if she felt something prickly in the inside of her skull. Hermione thought back to the first time she had encountered Bellatrix Lestrange: she was in the Department of Mysteries with Harry facing off with Lucius Malfoy. She remembered how frightened she was when Bellatrix cackled in the distance and terrifying stepped out of the darkness, twirling her wand and speaking with her baby-voice.

Hermione grimaced when a sharp pain shot through her head. The memory changed for a moment, replacing Bellatrix with Rodolphus before shifting back again. Hermione had to rub her temples for a moment to deal with the sudden burst of pain.

"Ah," Andromeda hissed, apparently having experienced the same pain. "That was... unpleasant. As if someone shoved a hot needle into my skull."

"It's like..." Hermione thought a moment. "A real life Escher painting. You're looking at something you know cannot exist, but it's still there. "

"How do you deal with that?"

"I try to avoid thinking of the past," said Hermione. "Or, at least about the times when my different memories overlap. I still have at least one attack every day."

Hermione showed her more memories. More encounters. More insanity. And then. Malfoy manor. Hermione showed Andromeda as much as she felt comfortable with. There was more shifting: Bellatrix on top of her, cursing, biting, scratching, cutting into her skin. She shifted away into Rodolphus, beating her, kicking her... and then... the poker."

When she looked up, she saw that Andromeda was pale, shocked and sickened by what she had seen. "I... I am sorry you had to go through that," she whispered.

But the kicker was yet to come. The next memories came from the battle of Hogwarts, how she, Luna and Ginny were duelling Bellatrix and barely being able to hold her off between the three of them. Then, Bellatrix' death and the worst was when Hermione remembered helping to gather bodies in the great hall to honour the fallen.

When Hermione snapped out of it, she found Andromeda had withdrawn from her mind and was pacing near the sofa. Her chest was heaving, her eyes were red and she had her hands folded over her mouth. "No... Not... not my little Nymphadora!" she sobbed, her chest heaving. "It... couldn't... I... Are you sure it was Bella?!"

"I'm so sorry," Hermione whispered. She reached out a hand to lay on her shoulder, but changed her mind and let it fall limply to her side.

"I… I wish I could not believe," said Andie. "Family... family is so important to her. She... she wouldn't... she... Bella… Bella is so much better than that!"

"She is. And now she has a chance to live that better life," Hermione replied. "I was surprised to see that Nymphadora was alive, but it also makes me happy to know that by helping Bella, I've helped other people too."

Andromeda dried her tears with a handkerchief, once again sitting down on the sofa with Hermione again. She drank another cup of tea from a shaky hand, still reeling from the revelations. "Miss Granger," started Andromeda. "I have misjudged you. I believe I owe you an apology."

"I believe you do," chuckled Hermione. "I am curious, though. If you knew what I was doing, that I was influencing Bellatrix in the past, then why did you never try to stop me?"

"I almost did," said Andromeda. "But temporal manipulation is fickle and dangerous. It was merely a measure of calculating the odds and assessing the risks. The odds of seeing my sister alive again were simply greater if I let you go ahead with what you were doing. You were carefully watched all the time, regardless. It was oncle Achille who took matters into his own hands and gave you the leads you needed to actually breach the Fae Mirror."

"Who watched me?"

Andromeda shrugged. "Agents at Hogwarts. Private investigators. Maids at the Three Broomsticks. Muggle agents. Ministry agents. Inhabitants of Hogsmeade. Percy Weasley. The skiing instructor on the trip your parents treated you to for your fifteenth birthday. Countless others."

Hermione felt the blood drain from her cheeks. "Not one person?"

"A whole phalanx," Andromeda confirmed.

"Am I still being watched?" asked Hermione.

The slight grin Andromeda gave her was not encouraging to say the least.

Andromeda shifted a little. "Thank you for giving me... clarity," said Andromeda. "I now have a decision to make."

"Oh?"

"After seeing what I have seen, I fear I will never look at Bella the same way again," said Andromeda. Hermione supposed that was understandable: she had seen her elder sister, someone whom she loved and trusted, grow up into a fierce, insane killer who had ended the life of her daughter. "I... suppose it isn't fair to judge Bellatrix for something she has never done, but I don't think I can help it. It is for the best if I do not remember what I saw."

"You will obliviate yourself?" asked Hermione.

"No," said Andromeda. "That would also erase related memories. I would go right back to distrusting you and we'd both gain nothing. No, what I need to do is to brew a Waters of Lethe."

"I've never heard of that potion," said Hermione, now intrigued. "What does it do?"

"I'm not surprised," said Andromeda. "It's a very expensive, difficult to make potion steeped in the Dark Arts. It's related to memory manipulation, rather than erasure. You see, with Waters of Lethe you can put a block on a certain event or conversation, while leaving the decisions made because of that event intact. You'll be compelled to follow through with a decision you've made, even if it's not clear why. I think I would need that potion, after what I've seen."

There was a knock on the door and before Andromeda had a chance to give permission to enter, Nymphadora had already stepped into the office. "Ah, here you are. I've been running all over the mansion looking for you, you old bat," said Nymphadora. "Mother, nan asked me to remind you that we are supposed to sit for the new family portrait with great-uncle Achille in the solarium tomorrow morning. We..."

Nymphadora never got the chance to finish that sentence before being glomped by her mother, taking her into a rib-crushing hug. "Umh. Okay," Nymphadora muttered, returning the hug.

A smiling Hermione said nothing and simply joined in, glomping onto Nymphadora from the other side with the wasp still clutched to her chest caught in the middle. "Right," Nymphadora muttered. "You've both officially gone mental. Or am I just high right now and not noticing?"

"Dora," Andromeda sniffed. "Tomorrow, I think I would like to try out one of your 'special' brownies. At your solarium. And I want you to tell me all about that Bentley you've been working on so hard."

Nymphadora raised an eyebrow and turned her head to Hermione. "What on Earth did you say to her?! I've been trying to get her to try a hash brownie for years!"

"It's just how mothers are," Hermione replied softly, just as Andromeda shot her one final look and gave her a brief nod before hooking her arm around Nymphadora and leaving the room with her.

And so, Hermione was left alone in the office sat on the sofa and holding a wasp. Though things were looking up now that Andromeda had learned the truth, she was now utterly soul-crushing tired and a single glance at the sheer amount of boxes with files all about her made her wish that she was still high. After feeding Zipper some lumps of sugar from the tea service, Hermione stroke him between his wings for a moment. "I'm going to drag myself back to Trix' room, throw myself on the bed and sleep for a week," she told Zipper. The wasp, in turn, looking up after finishing his sugar and quickly gave Hermione a soft playbite to the chin with his mandibles.

"Fine," chuckled Hermione, just before stifling a yawn. "You can sleep in our bed tonight. Provided I can actually manage to reach the room before I collapse on top one of the carpets."

Zipper buzzed merrily as Hermione started her arduous trek to the other side of the mansion.