Masquerade Act Three: The Veneer of Thalia and Melpomene
The Thirtieth Dance: One Sip Too Many
First you take a drink, then the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes you. F. Scott Fitzgerald
When McGonagall showed up on Bellatrix's doorstep instead of Hermione, the raven haired witch was unpleasantly surprised.
"What are you doing here, Minnie?" Bellatrix asked nastily, as the headmistress of Hogwarts strode into the room distaste clear on her face.
"I'm filling in for Hermione because she asked me to." Was the older witch's answer as she gazed around the prison house as if expecting some nasty surprise. "And stop calling me Minnie. You know I detest that name."
"What?" Bellatrix cocked her head. Had she offended Hermione to the point that the younger girl no longer wanted to work here? Well, that was fine with her. No more intrusive questions about soul spells or about trust.
"I'm not going to continue her sessions, because I don't want to disturb her work. But I am here to check up on you occasionally."
"And what happened to her?" Bellatrix was a bit curious. She honestly thought Hermione was more stubborn than this; that it would take more than a few hateful words to send her running.
"That is none of your concern," McGonagall sniffed haughtily and looked at Bellatrix as if she had done something wrong. Which was a look Bellatrix was accustomed to from this woman. McGonagall had always looked at her like that when she had been a student at Hogwarts. Always distrusting of her. No matter if she had been doing good or bad things.
"Now, let's get to the matters at hand. I have a school to run." McGonagall pulled out a magical scroll that unraveled itself and floated in the air as a quill came up to join, ready to write.
Bellatrix let a mischievous grin spread on her face. Oh, so Minnie was in a rush?
Let's make this take as long as possible.
If Bellatrix thought that Hermione would be back anytime soon, she was wrong. The girl's absence began to stretch past one week to two, then five, then six. And it was frankly pissing Bellatrix off.
"What the bloody hell is her issue?" She raged to herself as she paced around the room. "She keeps sending Minnie in her place with those stupid reports of her's. Does Hermione not want to continue running this program? What the bloody hell!" She kicked a chair as she passed by it. A nearby auror, planted down the hall, gave a worried look into the room but when he saw it was just the usual, he went back to minding his business. Recently the witch had become more violent. He figured it had something to do with the Headmistress of Hogwarts' more frequent visits.
Bellatrix was bored. She had nothing to do but sit around the house, rereading the books she had already reread multiple times before. Replaying the game she had already played ten times over and beat. The voices were back-it wasn't just one but a chorus of five, and they all squabbled in her head incessantly over the most inane of things. Without any distractions, she was going crazy. It was taking all her will power not to indulge in any of the activities they told her to.
The only thing that overpowered them and kept them at bay right now was this stupid emotion that she refused to acknowledge, but that began to grow increasingly stronger the longer Hermione's absence went on. And Bellatrix covered it with anger so that she wouldn't feel as vulnerable as this emotion was making her.
"Someone's missing a certain brunette," Dorian sang in Bellatrix's head and she was almost glad to hear his voice, because it silenced the others in her head for now.
"I'm not missing her. I'm just bloody pissed because she's been gone for a long stretch of time. Without so much as a word. If she doesn't get her arse back here, then I could be stuck in this stupid reform program of her's for longer. Which I don't want. So I don't miss her. At all. I only need her for this bloody program. So I can be free."
"Hmm," Dorian hummed, not at all convinced by her false bravado. "Are you sure that's the only reason you miss her? Not because you actually have come to care for her? To care for her company?"
"I don't need her. I don't need anyone," Bellatrix stubbornly retorted. She crossed her arms over her chest. She was silent a moment, thinking something over. Dorian waited patiently for her to speak, and when she did so it was begrudgingly, as if she didn't want to say it. "But, if you happen to know what has suddenly kept her so busy, I'd be interesting in hearing it." Her curiosity and concern had won over her pride in this case. And she figured she couldn't lose too much pride to a voice in her head.
"That's for you to find out."
"Dorian, do not play with me! You can read her thoughts! You know what she's up to," Bellatrix hissed impatiently.
"Yes, but what would be the fun in that? Isn't it better to discover things by yourself?"
"Dorian-!"
"I thought you didn't care?" Dorian asked coyly.
Bellatrix tsked angrily. "I already told you I only care for my own selfish reasons. So that I can conclude this blasted program and win back my freedom."
Dorian was silent and Bellatrix thought he had left, about ready to curse him into oblivion for teasing her and not answering any of her questions, when he spoke, his voice thick with amusement. "What if I told you she was shagging that ginger?"
"What!" Bellatrix's nostrils flared and she couldn't momentarily believe what he was saying. It only took another moment for disgust to fill her as she thought of the red head grunting and panting over her Hermione like some sort of animal. Absolutely revolting! She grit her teeth as she felt inexplicable anger fill her body. How could Hermione go for him? What did she see in him?
Now betrayal stung at Bellatrix. How could Hermione betray her like this? How could she be wasting time with that god awful ginger, when she should be helping her out? Was that why she wasn't here?
"They have a lot to catch up on," Dorian voiced. "After all, they haven't seen each other in months and their only young adults so-"
"Shut up!" Bellatrix screeched out, clamping her hands over her ears. But she couldn't shut out a voice in her head. He kept going. So she kept screaming. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut your sodden mouth!"
At last Dorian quieted down. And he stayed quiet for the rest of the day. As did the rest of Bellatrix's voices, except for her own, one that kept repeating over and over the same phrase.
Hermione betrayed me.
Hermione was a mess. Ever since she and Ron had broken up she had to deal with a multitude of emotions. She was sad, upset and hurt. How could Ron think so lowly of her that she would date him out of pity? That thought had never crossed her mind. Did he really have such low esteem that he couldn't see any good traits in himself that Hermione could have fallen in love with? He was goofy, sweet, and he could make her smile when no one else could. But why he couldn't see any of that was beyond her.
For a good two weeks she was out of commission. She couldn't focus on her work, the papers and forms lying on her desk untouched. She couldn't bare to face Ginny, to discuss the issue. Or to answer any of Harry's owls. She didn't even want to see Bellatrix. She knew she should be doing her work; shouldn't let this one trip up in her life devastate her as much as it did. But it did. And for all the wrong reasons.
Because after she got over the grief of losing her relationship with Ron; with his lost of trust in her good character, she felt relief. She was relieved that her relationship with him was over and she couldn't fathom why she felt this way. It was wrong. She shouldn't be happy. She should be sad, fighting to get him back, to get him to understand that she didn't pity him. Yet, she didn't care to do any of that. And this was what worried her. She was perfectly happy to leave things how they were. To let their relationship completely fall apart. And this feeling was what kept her locked up in her apartment, feeling intensely ashamed.
She felt like she had done some great crime. Like something was wrong with her. So she needed some time to herself, to sort out her feelings. She had sent McGonagall an owl, asking her to take over the reports for the time being for Hermione, while she claimed to be sick with some muggle disease and needed time to recover. She didn't specifically say how long, and initially she had wanted to only take a break of a week or two, but the breaks kept getting longer and longer and she felt bad for making McGonagall do this for her, on top of the headmistress' already tedious and demanding work of running a school.
But her period of introspect didn't lead to anything helpful, her conclusions on her emotions leading to blank walls that she couldn't climb over, so she eventually had to stop it. Because she wasn't getting anywhere closer with her issue and she was only delaying having to finish the reform program with Bellatrix.
Right, Bellatrix. The older witch and her had had an angry spat several weeks ago. Would Bellatrix still treat her the same way, or had the other witch let it go? Only one way to find out.
So on the sixth and final week, Hermione finally returned.
She entered the house's living room, feeling nervous and out of sorts. How would Bellatrix react to seeing her? Would she be happy? Mad? Indifferent? Hermione knew she'd have to come up with some excuse for her disappearance.
The place was familiar, the same furniture as all those weeks ago but suddenly the place felt different and off. Like something had changed during Hermione's absence. Yet she couldn't put her finger on it. It was an energy; something in the air.
"Miss Granger, good to see you again," greeted one of the aurors who stood outside a door, almost as if he was guarding it.
"Yes," Hermione nodded her head. "Where is Bellatrix?"
"She's having a rough day..." the man trailed off. "Have you not been reading the reports McGonagall has sent you? Bellatrix's condition has worsened."
Hermione gulped guilty at this. She hadn't been reading reports despite McGonagall sending them to her. She just couldn't focus on anything, no matter how hard she tried to. It was all just too much emotional turmoil that she had to get through, too much questioning of herself and of her character. Was she a bad person because she was glad she and Ron broke up? was a question that ate at her night and day and only lead her in circles as she tried to argue for either side. She had needed a break to ponder this.
But she had been selfish. While she had been gone, Bellatrix had also been suffering and all on her own with no one to help her. Hermione would have to amend that; she only hoped too much damage hadn't been done.
"I'm here to see her, if you could let me past..." Hermione edged to the door and the auror moved out of the way.
"Be careful," he warned. "And call for back up if you need some help."
"I will." Hermione opened the door and stepped in. The rest of the house was a mess here. Tables, chairs over turned, drawers pulled out of cabinets and their contents emptied. Curtains lay on the floor, with rip marks down their length. Walls had nail marks gouged into them. "Okayyyy, note to self: never leave Bellatrix bored," Hermione told herself. She could see the witch's marks on everything but not the actual women herself. Where was she? As Hermione passed by all the damage done she took out her wand and wordlessly took to fixing it as much as she could.
Hermione cautiously walked through the dining room, the kitchen, and then the foyer. There she found the woman, sitting on a chair, hands buried in her hair and bent over so that her face was touching her knees, not that Hermione could see her face. The witch was so still it was hard to tell if she awake or not. Or if she was breathing.
"Bellatrix...?" Hermione ventured, stretching out a hand.
Bellatrix shot up at this, so quickly that she startled Hermione who took three steps back, resting a hand on her beating heart. "You scared me," Hermione chuckled weakly as she took in the other witch's face. She had bags under her eyes and her curls fell haphazardly into her face. Her pale face looked paler than usual. "Are you okay? What happened?" Hermione asked more softy when she saw Bellatrix's upper lip curl up at the corner in an angry sneer.
"No, of course everything is fine." She said mockingly.
Hermione narrowed her eyes at that tone of voice. "Something happened. Are you upset at me? Did you do that to the house because you were angry? Or because you were bored? You can't do such things, Bellatrix."
At this Bellatrix shot out of her chair. "You were gone!" She snarled out and if Hermione was expecting the witch to say more, she was sorely disappointed. Bellatrix took to rushing off, leaving a confused Hermione behind.
"Bellatrix, wait!" She called after her and followed the storm the raven haired witch left, Bellatrix grabbing whatever stood out in her path and tossing it to the floor. Glass and ceramics broke, the things that Hermione had just repaired, in disrepair once more. "I didn't mean to be gone for so long! I just was going through something and-"
"You were too busy shagging that ginger to bother with me!" Bellatrix turned on her heel, causing Hermione to stumble to a stop, finding herself face to face with the wrathful witch.
"What?!" Hermione sputtered out, caught off guard by the absurdity of that statement. "Where did you get such an idea from?"
"It wasn't hard to put two and two together," Bellatrix leered at Hermione as she breathed heavily, trying to rein her anger in.
"Bellatrix-" Hermione reached out a hand to try to ground the other witch but she flinched back.
"Don't touch me! Not with those hands that touched that blood traitor!"
This only served to piss Hermione off. "What the bloody hell is your issue! I haven't done anything to deserve your paranoia or your anger or disgust!"
"You left without a bloody word. You left me for him! And after I have no choice but to place my bloody future into your hands, you think you can just go around and play with it! You think you can just do what you want with my time and my life because I can't do anything about it!"
"That is not at all what I think! How did you get such asinine ideas in your head?!" Hermione had a hard time understanding where all this came from. It almost sounded like Bellatrix was...jealous? Was she jealous that Hermione was spending time with Ron?
That didn't make any sense. At all.
"I'm not even with Ron anymore!"
Now it was Bellatrix's turn to be thrown off by Hermione's words. "What?"
"I broke up with him," Hermione said more quietly. "Well, he broke up with me," she corrected with a wry smile. "So I wasn't doing anything with him. I was...heartbroken, and I know I shouldn't have been absent for so long...but I couldn't deal with anything until I got my feelings sorted out and-"
A rumble in Bellatrix's chest grew, stopping Hermione in worry. It grew and grew until the witch burst out into laughter, doubling over, her arms around her ribs as if trying to hold them together. It was loud and shrill pitched, an almost desperate type of laughter. And she was saying something. "That motherfucker, he lied to me!" Hermione didn't know how to react to this. So she waited.
At last, after what seemed like an eternity in which Hermione felt she was the brunt of some joke, Bellatrix straightened up, wiping away at some tears in her eyes with the sleeve of her dress. "You...you and him...broke up?" she gasped between breaths.
"Yes..." Hermione said uncomfortably.
"About damn time. You two were so ill fitted to one another. Now you can find yourself a real man."
"This isn't a laughing matter!" Hermione cried out indignantly, stomping her foot. She didn't want to think it true yet now that she and him were done she could see it was apodictic. But she wasn't going to let Bellatrix know this.
"Oh, it is," Bellatrix smiled and suddenly she was in a better mood. "Lwittle Hwermione, all hweartbroken over a blood traitor."
"He's not a blood traitor-you know what, I'm done. I'm not in any mood to deal with you and your childish behavior right now," Hermione angrily said, raising her finger and pointing it into Bellatrix's face. "I came to check on you because I was worried, but it seems you don't need my concern over you. All you need me for is a source of entertainment! As a pin cushion for your anger and all your nasty proclivities."
The smile slipped off of Bellatrix's face. Wait, this wasn't right. Heroes didn't just give up on good deeds. They completed them. Was Hermione...going to abandon her? For good this time? She felt panic settle into her bones.
"I thought you changed," Hermione said gently and Bellatrix fought the panic back the only way she knew-with anger.
"And I thought you knew better."
"I guess you're still the same old bitch as always," Hermione said and then left the room, slamming the door behind her.
Bellatrix didn't move. Gripping her upper arm hard with her hand she said softly. "I don't...want to be."
Hermione didn't come back for a whole week. And she probably would have taken even longer if Bellatrix hadn't made a move first.
So after attacking one of the aurors with a pan, she was bound to a chair, held at wand point by several aurors, while they waited for Hermione to return. The brunette faithfully showed up, her face hard. "Bellatrix," she said curtly, nodding her head to dismiss the aurors.
"Did you miss me?" Bellatrix asked, arching her brow and Hermione just sighed and rubbed her tired face. She didn't look like she had slept much. Which made the two of them. Bellatrix had been unable to sleep, panicking over the thought that she would be left forever alone in this house until the day she rot. She needed to get Hermione back here to help her, so she had listened to some of the voices in her head that gave her an idea on how to attract the brunette's attention.
"Bellatrix, what are you doing?" Hermione asked with a touch of exasperation.
"Currently," Bellatrix made a show of looking down at her bound body. "I'm sitting tied up in a chair against my will."
This only made Hermione sigh more. "Why are you acting up? I wish you would tell me. I know this all started because of my long disappearance, but did it really bother you that much? Did you miss me?" she asked at the end, and not in a teasing manner, but in all seriousness. Was that a possibility? After all, Bellatrix had been jealous of Ron.
"No!" Bellatrix rebutted strongly. "I need to finish this program. You promised me my freedom and now all of a sudden you have retracted your promise. You have no intention of helping me. You just want to give me false hope!"
This time Hermione rubbed her forehead in annoyance. She didn't want to even point out that she hadn't at all meant to take a break with this program. Just things had happened that were out of her control. "I see you still don't trust me." She bit her lip as she thought- what would finally convince the witch that Hermione could be trusted? After all this time of brooding over the topic, she was hard pressed to find an answer. Unless...an idea sparked in her head and then she turned on her heel and left.
"Wait, where are you going?" Bellatrix cried out. "I'm still tied to this chair! Come back here!" But Hermione ignored her and Bellatrix let out an angry huff and tried to rock the chair back and forth and free herself.
Half an hour later she got tired of trying and resigned herself to her fate. She was sure someone would stop by sooner or later. She'd waited in Azkaban for 14 years, tied up to a wall. She could wait a couple of hours in a chair. Which was substantially nicer.
Hermione did come back, an hour later and she was carrying official looking documents in her hands. This was either going to be a stupid idea, or a good idea. Hermione wouldn't know until she tried.
Flicking her wand, she undid Bellatrix's binds and the witch got up from the chair, gratefully rubbing her sore wrists. "Would it have killed you to do this before you left?"
"You would have just run around, or started wrecking the house again and I needed you put so I could show you this." Hermione slapped the documents down onto the table.
"What's that?" Bellatrix arched a brow, not sure if she should go with mock interest at the paper's or distaste. She settled for something that was in between.
"It's what I'm working on. Go on, read it." Hermione nudged the paper closer to Bellatrix who looked uncertainly at them. "Can't you just tell me?"
"No. Read them." Hermione was adamant. She gave Bellatrix a hard look and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Fine," Bellatrix huffed out. But she really didn't see why she had to read it herself. She flipped through the papers, ignoring the words in small print. As she skimmed through the boring language, her eyes began to catch certain words and phrases and as she read the passages those were in, her eyes got wide and she gave Hermione an incredulous look. "Azkaban? You're reforming the whole system of Azkaban?"
Hermione nodded her head seriously. "This is what I've been working on all this time. A program that puts that prison out of commission. A program that gives the prisoners there a second chance, a way to improve their lives and to learn how to integrate with society once more rather than have to turn to crime to earn a living. And you're going to be the first person to finish my program...once you actually finish it." Hermione balanced on her toes, rocking back onto her heels slightly, worried about the dark witch's reaction. Bellatrix hadn't said anything, only looked at Hermione as if she had lost her mind.
"Have you gone mental?" she said at last and Hermione sighed. So the plan to show Bellatrix her goals for this program; her reason for it, had failed. "No, I haven't," she said heavily, holding out her hand for the documents.
Bellatrix didn't hand them over. "Is Kingsley mental too? Allowing you to do something so grand?" Bellatrix looked down at the papers and then started pacing around the room. Hermione let her hand drop, where it swayed by her side uncertainly. "Azkaban has been a part of wizarding society for...centuries. It's a staple! A landmark!"
"A landmark of much pain and suffering. And I want to get rid of it. Criminals need to be treated more humanely." Hermione's words paused the older witch in her pacing.
She then took to chuckling. "You are so naive, golden girl." She thrust the papers at Hermione's face, the brunette having to jerk her face back to avoid them. "People who are there are there for dark magic. There is no way to heal someone from such dark proclivities."
Hermione snatched the papers angrily from Bellatrix's hand, feeling disappointment well up inside her. Was there no way to appease Bellatrix? To gain her trust? "I guess then you still don't trust me," she said bitterly.
"No, I do."
Bellatrix's easy reply made Hermione do a double take. "What?" she whispered out.
"I believe you now. There would be no way to construct a farce this large just to fool me. So this is real. Your dedication is real. I suppose I owe you..." was Bellatrix going to issue an apology? "More trust," Bellatrix begrudgingly finished with and Hermione was glad with that outcome too.
"I told you you should trust me!" she couldn't help from blurting out.
"Yes, yes, why don't I just wholly worship the words of anyone and see where that gets me," Bellatrix waved her hand and Hermione tipped her head at that, as if to say well, there was that one time, and Bellatrix curled up her lip at this. "Don't even go there. Besides, I said more trust, not complete trust. So I won't fully believe everything you say."
Hermione put up her hands in surrender. This was good! She felt a smile try to creep up onto her lips. She had finally more or less gotten Bellatrix to trust her! Now they were sort of on equal footing, almost like they had been in the afterlife. There Bellatrix had been in charge and she had done most of the work. She had no need to trust Hermione, only needed the younger girl's cooperation and loyalty. But back there she didn't need to trust Hermione as explicitly as she did here, because she had had all the power there. Here, she was at the mercy of Hermione and she didn't like it. It made her feel weak. She didn't like having to trust someone else beside her own self; she had always relied on herself to get things done. It was how she had been raised, it seemed.
Now that Hermione had some more of her trust, what could she do next? Probably resuming her sessions with the raven haired woman would be a good idea. "Now, before we resume our sessions, we need to talk about my long absence." Already Bellatrix was shrinking away from the topic, her shoulders hunching on herself. Hermione rushed to finish before the other could completely stop listening. "And about your reaction to it."
"No, no, and no!" Bellatrix lashed out, slashing her hand in the air, her dark eyes stormy. "We do not need to address that, nor do we need to ever bring it back up again."
"Bellatrix-"
"I said no!"
"I need to talk to you about this! It's for the good of the program! I need to resolve these internal emotional issues with you, or else you won't be labeled as stable enough to leave house arrest, or to get your wand back!"
Bellatrix, who had been on the verge of screaming out her refusal, stopped. "Did you say...getting my wand back?"
"Yes," Hermione affirmed, glad for a break in this yelling. She could feel a headache coming on.
"They still have it? Who has my wand, who?" Bellatrix grabbed Hermione by the shoulders and began to shake her roughly, excitement in her eyes.
"Stop that!" Hermione hissed, pushing Bellatrix's hands off. Her skin tingled where it touched the other's porcelain smooth flesh and Hermione inhaled quickly. So the tingles were still happening. That had been another thing that Hermione had been pondering over her self induced break. Where did they come from? Did Bellatrix feel them too? She wanted badly to ask the older witch but there was no way of phrasing the inquiry without some sort of suspicion arising, or some teasing coming from it on the dark witch's part. So Hermione had simply chalked everything up to the side effects of the soul spell.
"Who has it?" Bellatrix demanded, not shaking Hermione anymore, but all up in her personal space. Her tone of voice was almost reverent and Hermione didn't find it too odd. Every witch and wizard loved their wand. It was special to them, each wand coming with their own personality. To some it even felt like a limb. So when one lost their wand, not only did they lose their magical abilities, what separated them from muggles, but they also lost something akin to a dear friend or helper.
"I'm not at liberty to tell you that. But it is safe. And should you do good, then you will get it at the end of your house stay. All I have to do is prove to the ministry that you are stable enough mentally and emotionally to handle having it back. So, do you think we can have that talk now?"
Bellatrix reared back at this, her eyes contemplative. It was a huge decision for her to make. Give up her privacy on her inner feelings and thoughts and get her wand back, or do neither. That bloody ministry and their bloody rulings! I bet they did this specifically to torment me!
"You don't have to make the choice now," Hermione offered, seeing how torn the other was. "I'll let you think about it. And in the mean time, we can get back on track with our schedule. I had the foresight to bring you some more muggle literature, given you must have read your old books. Or I hope at least you did." Hermione began to take out some books, most of which were books on nature, automobiles and TV. There were a scattered handful of young adult fiction, most of which were far removed from the topic of violence.
Bellatrix was grateful that Hermione would let her wait to make the choice, and she was also grateful for more books. It got downright bloody boring in this prison house and she needed something to distract the voices. Speaking of, what would she tell Hermione. Should she tell her about the voices? Would that help Bellatrix get her wand faster? Or would it only delay the process?
No, it more than likely will get my wand locked up for good. I must never say a word to anyone about them. Bellatrix swore to herself. She'd only relent the bare minimum about herself so she could have her precious wand back, if she came to that choice.
That afternoon, Hermione came back to her apartment feeling slightly chipper. She had gotten Bellatrix to trust her more, and they had had an enlightening conversation about how electricity in the muggle world worked. She was feeling good, better than she had in the past six weeks, and now that she wasn't around the other, she could let her smile free. And it was plastered to her face as she thought about how they had shared knowledge and crumpets over cups of tea. Bellatrix had acted noticeably relaxed now that Hermione was back to doing their sessions.
She wondered what had wound the other up in the first place. Was it McGonagall? She knew the two had a history but she hadn't trusted anyone else to be able to handle Bellatrix. Additionally, McGonagall was overseeing parts of this program, so it was her job to take stock of Bellatrix's moods and progress. Which reminded Hermione, she needed to read those reports.
"What's got you so chipper?" a sudden voice interrupted Hermione's thoughts and she looked up to see Ginny standing on the doorstep leading to her apartment.
"Ginny? What are you doing here?"
"A certain friend of mine had recently broken up with a certain brother of mine and since that certain friend wasn't responding to any of my owls, I've decided to go to her apartment to check up on her." Ginny shot Hermione a grin. "But I'm happy to see my friend is happy. Spill, what happened? What's got your spirits lifted?"
"Oh, nothing really. Just back in the grind of work." Hermione couldn't say the real reason for her smile. She knew Ginny was tolerant of Hermione's work with Bellatrix but even she could take so much.
Ginny laughed at this. "Only you get happy at the prospect of work."
Hermione let the red head into her apartment and the two of them sat down and had a long overdue chat. It started off pleasantly with Ginny filling in and talking about her work and how Harry was doing and what new thing had occurred in her family. But Hermione knew the real questions were soon to come, and after the tea had been drunk and the biscuits finished, Ginny launched her attack.
"Hermione, I know this may be painful to talk about, but I need to know, what happened? Ron won't say a thing and he's thrown himself into Quidditch. And you haven't answered any of my letters."
"I know and I'm sorry for that." Hermione placed a hand on Ginny's. "But I honestly couldn't. It...I don't know. It was just rough." Hermione lowered her eyes at this, hoping Ginny wouldn't ask anymore questions. Thankfully she didn't.
"That's fine. I understand it must have been rough."
"I don't know what to do now. I've lost a good friend. And I don't know if I will ever get him back." Hermione missed Ron's presence as a friend, not as a boyfriend.
"Ron's hurting, and I know he'll get over it and want to talk to you after its all done so you guys can be friends again. It will just take time. Maybe you can even get back together-"
Hermione shook her head, cutting off Ginny's hopeful stipulation. "It's not going to happen. He doesn't believe me to actually love him. He thinks I only dated him out of pity and nothing more."
Ginny let out a gasp at this. "Why that bumbling idiot-! I ought to go and beat some sense into him." She rose from her chair but Hermione stilled her with her hand.
"There's no need for that. We've had our run and now things are done." Hermione gave a small smile to Ginny, trying to effuse her voice with pain so that it would look more convincing. She didn't want Ginny knowing how happy she was it was over. That would reflect badly on her.
She must have been doing a good job because Ginny looked to be feeling the same pain as Hermione.
"Aww, you poor dear." Ginny sat down and took up Hermione's hand in hers. "What you need now is some fun."
"Some fun?" Hermione raised a brow, having a feeling she wouldn't like this.
"You need to stop working, take a break and go meet some guys. Some hot, sexy, wizarding guys so that you can forget all about your troubles."
"Ginny I don't think-"
"Nonsense! It'll do you good."
"Ginny I don't party-"
"Let's go out tonight. Just for a bit. And just the two of us. Girls night out on town!" It was like talking to a brick wall.
"Ginny I have work to do-"
But Ginny still wasn't listening. She whirled out of her seat. "I'll see you in thirty minutes. And you better be wearing party robes!" Then she left and Hermione heaved out a giant sigh. There was no stopping Ginny once she began.
She reluctantly began to search through her drawers for suitable wear.
Hermione wasn't one to party. In fact, she'd never been to a party, except for that wizarding dance in her fourth year. But that hadn't been a party in the way Ginny thought of parties. This would be at a night club. Hermione didn't know how to deal with sweating bodies, strangers, loud music and booze. She'd never done it before. She only drank that one time with Bellatrix in the after life and look how swell that had gone. She couldn't remember anything from it.
"Are you really wearing that?" Ginny asked, disapproval on her face at the attire the brunette was wearing.
"Yes," Hermione said defensively. "And what's so wrong with it?"
"What's so wrong is that you look like you're heading to a convention to play bingo with old witches!"
Hermione looked down at her formal and plain black robes, tossed over her regular clothes of muggle wear. "I've never been to a wizarding night club before. How was I to know what to wear." She looked over at Ginny's clothes which consisted of slim fitted robes that only went to mid thigh and had a v-neck. And they shimmered as she moved around, like a constellation.
"We'll just have to cast some enchantments on it to make it look better," Ginny said as she appraised the robes. She pulled out her wand and uttered out, "meridiem." The robes began to glow soft hues of alternating blue, pink, and green.
"Are you sure this will be fine?" Hermione questioned, touching the now illuminating fabric.
"It'll be fine. You'll have so much fun!" Ginny grasped Hermione's hand.
"I don't know. I would have had fun watching a movie with you or discussing-"
"That all involves staying in. And you need to go out. Merlin knows you spend enough time indoors as it is."
"I'll still technically be inside a club," Hermione pointed out but Ginny's enthusiasm was not to be deterred.
"Not in this one. Now come on, or else we'll be late!" Then Ginny side apparated them away.
When Hermione got her bearings back, she was standing outside an open air bar and club. It was loud, the chatter of loud and drunk voices filling the air in the spaces between the magical band that was playing music that changed depending on the listener, catering to their personal tastes.
"What is this place?" Hermione asked as she appraised the locale. It was modeled after Greek structure, with arches and columns of solid white marbles and covered in crawling ivy. Tables stood outside, many young witches and wizards sitting at them, the glow of the magical candles on them illuminating their joyous faces.
"It's the House of Dionysian, called so after the Greek god of wine and pleasure," Ginny supplied with childish excitement. "They have the most divine of drinks and snacks here. You simply must try them."
"Ginny, I don't drink-"
"Just one. It can't hurt," the red head insisted and tugging on Hermione's hand, pulled her past the entrance arch into the central plaza where a statue of the Greek god who this place took inspiration from stood, spouting red from it's mouth into a small basin below. Several witches and wizards stood there with golden goblets, taking turns to refill them with the elf wine.
As Hermione craned her neck around to appreciate the place more, she found that the main building of this club resembled more of a temple with rows and rows upon of columns, massive things rising high over her head. There were more statues in various areas of the main building, all of which spewed forth in one way or another some sort of beverage. She was a bit shocked by this elaborateness and attention to detail. She wasn't aware that the magical folk were so aware of human history. She thought (and how it mostly seemed) that they were for the most part ignorant.
"How come wizardkind built something like this?" Hermione asked in wonder, her natural curiosity eating up at her.
Ginny rolled her eyes good naturedly at Hermione. "Hecuba was a Greek witch, as was Medea, so of course homage would be paid to them. We know very much about their history. Their true one."
"I thought those were all tall tales." Hermione was familiar with the plays and how horrid they were in the treatment of the witches there.
Ginny shook her head. "As a young witch, the tales of Hecuba and Medea are often read as bed time stories."
"That's horrible!" Hermione gasped out. "Why would anyone read such things- they would give anyone nightmares!"
Ginny gave a little giggle at this. "They're tales meant to aspire young witches and wizards to the trials and tribulations of muggles messing with us and what should be done in response to them."
Hermione's eyes grew wide at this. "So you're telling me wizardkind openly advocates for hurting muggles?"
Now Ginny frowned, pausing momentarily to give Hermione an odd look. "No, that's not what the goal is. It's hard to explain since you didn't grow up as a witch but...it's more about, the dangers of what muggles can do to wizardkind and how it can push one into terrible courses of action in retaliation. But why discuss this now! We're here to have a good time and throw all our cares away!"
Hermione was intrigued in learning more about the topic but Ginny was clearly ready to move off of it, somewhat uncomfortable, so the brunette dropped it and plastered on a resigned smile. "Okay, lead the way. But I'm only having one drink. One." Hermione could not emphasize that enough.
Ginny merely arched a skeptical brow at the sharp declaration. "Alright, let me explain how things work here. We go up to the bar tender and pay for our cups," Ginny said this as she lead Hermione towards a bar. "And when we do we decide how much of what type of drink we want to drink. So for example, if we buy five drinks, then we can refill our cup five times from whatever fountain we want. If we try to go for more, the cups magically repel any liquid that wants to go in."
Hermione had to admit that was relatively amazing.
"Two cups!" Ginny told the bartender. "Make it six drinks each."
"Ginny!" Hermione hissed, pulling on the sleeve of her friend's outfit. "I said only one!"
"Yea," Ginny blinked owlishly at her friend, trying to come off as innocent but failing to do so. "As in one cup."
Hermione clamped her lips together. She wasn't going to in any way drink six cups worth of drink. She'd only have one, and it was Ginny's fault if the rest were wasted because Hermione surely wouldn't be using the rest.
Or at least that was Hermione's plan. But Ginny's enthusiasm was hard to resist. They had started off with a nice elf wine, talking about this thing and that thing before Ginny had manipulated their walk to bring them towards the harder stuff.
And once she had goaded the brunette into trying the firewhiskey, Hermione found it substantially harder to walk and say no to more offers of drinks. The music that echoed through the building walls began to change from simple piano music to something more modern and catchier and Ginny, noticing her friend tapping her foot and nodding her head in rhythm, grabbed the witch's hand and pulled her outdoors where several pairs of people were dancing to a music of their own design.
They began to spin around for a little before, the two of them giggling when they both saw they were not at all in tune with each other's moves and thus decided to resign from such activities. "I think I need to sit down," Hermione said, as her head began to spin with one twirl too many.
"Okay," Ginny lead the two of them to sit down on some benches outside. Nearby a statue was situated and Hermione held her cup underneath it so that it could fill with what she hoped was firewhiskey.
As Hermione sipped on it, enjoying the burn down her throat, Ginny studied her friend. "So," she began slowly. "How are you feeling? Better? Losing all that stress?"
Hermione nodded her head, knowing what Ginny was trying to get at here. "Definitely better." Ron was the farthest thing from her mind right now.
Ginny nodded her head in consideration, pausing as she thought of what else she could say. Clearly it hadn't been an answer she had been expecting. Maybe she had been hoping for Hermione to slip up about the Ron situation?
"And how's...work?"
"Bellatrix is incorrigible as always. She makes me work so hard just to bring about any sort of dynamic change. It makes me want to tear my hair out." A beat here as Hermione took a sip of her drink. "But it'll all be worth it when I can help her." She wasn't aware of it but a small smile had made it's way onto her lips.
"Was Ron upset at you because of who you were working with and thus broke up with you over it?" Ginny tried to edge in and Hermione shot her a look. "You're not really low key about any of this. Was this whole night of 'going out and drinking and dancing with hot wizards' all a charade to getting me to confess?"
"Sorry," Ginny flushed, even the tips of her ears going red. "But I want to help you guys get over this relationship hiccup, and if he won't tell me, then at least you sort of can."
Hermione felt a tinge of anger in her chest. "Why do you assume I want to get back with him?"
The amount of invective in her words caught Ginny off guard. "But Hermione..." she hurried to get out, "I know he can be a dunce, but he still loves you. And you guys didn't even really have much of a chance to really date because of the whole having to save the world from evil forces thing and then you having that odd body swap."
"Ginny, no. I don't intend to get back with him. We had our run. We just weren't meant for each other. I can see it now." Hermione looked down as she swirled her drink before she tossed it back, grimacing at the overbearing searing taste. It was giving her courage to say things she might have normally brushed over with little argument. But she was done simply allowing herself to acquiescence to others demands, forgoing her own desires. And right now she desired to not be involved with Ron romantically.
"No offense but your brother and I were terrible matches. We were only ever drawn to each other because of our shared adventures. But once I was separated from him from a while that past didn't really matter because it hadn't carried over to the present properly. And without that there can be no future."
Hermione could see the pain twisting her friend's features on those words. "But it would have been perfect," she said in a defeated voice. "Me and Harry and you and Ron, all friends for a long time and now all in love with one another."
Hermione didn't like seeing her friend sad but she couldn't take back her words or her feelings. "I'm sorry. I truly am. But it wasn't Ron's fault. It was mine." For the brunette knew something was wrong with her. Everything had been perfect. The absolute best set up she could ask for. She'd always be surrounded by her friends and she could have a proper wizarding family. But now...well, it was no use in feeling guilty about all this. Or else she wouldn't be able to leave her room for another six weeks.
"What do you mean?" Ginny leaned in closer as she inquired and Hermione began to squirm uncomfortably. She didn't have an answer to this, for she still had not grasped why she was happy things between her and the red headed boy were over. So she shook her head as if hoping to dispel Ginny's curio. "I don't know. It...just didn't feel right to me anymore."
"What do you-"
"I don't know okay!" Hermione suddenly cried out. She rose to her feet less than gracefully. "Stop asking me questions on things I have no bloody answer to! I can't tell you why I'm happy that me and Ron broke up! Why I feel guilty for reasons I can't discern! I can't tell you why I suddenly can't stop thinking about Bellatrix or why I love spending time with her so! I don't even bloody have a clue about this stupid soul spell that has been placed on me and that binds me with You-Know-Who's lieutenant! So, I don't know!" Hermione's chest heaved as she finally spat all that had sat on her chest heavily.
Ginny looked up at her with wide eyes. "Hermione..." she couldn't seem to find her tongue.
Feeling suddenly foolish for her outburst, for people around them had begun to stop and stare, she span on her heel and ran away. "Hermione!" Ginny called after her but the brunette didn't stop, not even looking back when her friend called after her, until she had weaved her way through so many people that she had lost Ginny. Only then did she collapse on a bench outside next to a small pond that was secluded away from the rest of the crowd. Here it was dark, barely any torches lighting up the dusk. But she didn't mind. She liked the way it fit her mood. Even the music had changed, to something melancholic. It was small and drifted to and fro to her ear on an invisible breeze.
A small Cupid statue stared at her from across the gloom, a small stream of liquor streaming from it's notched arrow. It's aim was directed right at her and she looked at the thing for a bit before she threw her head in her hands. Merlin, had she really shouted out all of that to Ginny? About how she was happy about the break up? About how she actually liked spending time with a certain dark witch?
Oh Merlin, this wasn't going to go well. What would Ginny say the next day? Hopefully she would drop the topic until Hermione was ready to talk about it- but would she ever? Talking to Ginny about either of these issues felt like divulging a part of her soul that she wasn't ready to give up.
With a sigh, as running away had been entirely rude and childish to do, she gazed at the idyllic Cupid statue. "What do I do?" she asked it, feeling slightly foolish for speaking to it, but she felt like recently she couldn't talk to any of her friends about the issues that really mattered because...she was afraid to delve too deeply into them and having them discover some horrendous secret that she yet hadn't found out and properly prepared herself for.
The statue, predictably, stayed quiet, all but the quiet murmur of alcohol pouring freely into the basin around it. Still, Hermione continued on, feeling better as she talked. "Ever since that faithful day on the battle of Hogwarts, my life has changed in drastic ways. Ways I could have never predicted." She plucked a rose off of the nearby shrub by her and began to pluck it's petals as she spoke. They fell softly to her lap, a few scattering with the light breeze and falling onto the surface of the pond where they circled around the reflection of the full moon.
"And I've been trying to get it back on track. First the craziness at the hotel, then with the body swap and in hunting down Voldemort, and now this...schism that I feel opening inside me." She thumbed a petal thoughtfully before letting it drop so it could join it's brothers. "But no matter how hard I try to get my life to resemble some course of normalcy, it always evades me in the end. Something new pops up and I just can't tame it in time before it whisks me away. I thought my toughest challenge for now would be in reforming Bellatrix and it seems that way for sure. But I've been noticing the simplest of things about her, about myself. I pay her too much attention, and not of the healthy sort."
She flushed delicately at this but powered on, feeling safe in confiding to a stone figure. "I'm afraid of what it all means...surely it can't be that," she bit her lip, fearful to give name to that. "But then what else could it be? The soul spell? I'm so confused nowadays," she sighed in conclusion, having reached the last petal. She looked back up at the statue at this. "Maybe if I could just gather more courage to face Bellatrix, then I could ask her. Ask her if she has experienced things the way I have. She might not. She probably hasn't." Another sigh at this. "And then I need to apologize to Ginny." But she felt mortification take a hold in her chest at the thought of that.
"Maybe later," she reasoned. Perhaps she should have a drink first to soothe her nerves. It's not like drinking more could make this night go any more worse, could it?
With that, she brought her cup back out and filled it to the brim, smiling at the Cupid in appreciation before she teetered off to find Ginny by the time she finished consuming the drink.
Hermione wasn't sure why, but as she drunkenly stumbled over to Bellatrix's prison house, she was sure she was here for some important reason which she couldn't recall right now. She felt like she had some sort of point to make, some sort of argument to win. She knew it was important, or else she wouldn't bother to come over at this hour.
She made way into the house, the lights mainly off because it was somewhere in the wee hours of the morning. Luckily the aurors on shift didn't think to question her, thinking it must be something important for her to be here at such an hour. She crashed about in the hallway of the house, trying to blindly make her way up the stairs, hands touching the walls. Her drunken mind didn't think to use her wand to cast a light spell, so she stubbed her toes a grand total of ten times before she had made it to the top, breathing heavily from exertion.
She clumsily reached for the door knob when the door swung open by itself to show an angry Bellatrix at the other end, holding up a heavy looking object in a defensive position. She relented her position when she saw who it was. "Merlin, Hermione. I thought you were an intruder, coming to kill me." She set the lamp down.
"What?!" Hermione cried out loudly, more loudly than was necessary. "I thought I was perfectly quiet."
"Are you drunk?"
"Nooooo," Hermione shook her head yes as she said this, nearly tipping herself off balance. Bellatrix's hand shot out to grab her by the forearm to steady her and Hermione could feel warm tingles spreading through her body at that touch. But the feeling died down in intensity when Bellatrix let go once the danger of Hermione falling was averted, only a slight tingling sensation remaining.
"What are you doing here?" Bellatrix asked.
"I came to see you, silly," Hermione smiled and bopped Bellatrix on the nose. The older witch froze at this, not knowing what a proper response to that action was. During her distraction, Hermione moved past the older witch and stumbled into the room, knocking over the lamp on the floor.
"Merlin!" Bellatrix huffed, coming back to life and closing the door behind her and picking up the knocked over lamp. "I was sleeping you know! Why do you have to bother me now? Is it about some stupid muggle thing?"
"You keep me awake at night, and then I can't sleep," Hermione mumbled out as she collapsed onto Bellatrix's bed. It was warm and rumpled from her slumber. And it smelled really nice, like the older witch. Hermione closed her eyes and breathed it in heavily.
"I what?" Bellatrix asked, not sure if Hermione meant exactly how that statement sounded or if she meant something else.
"I came to tell you something," Hermione sat up suddenly as a thought came into her head. But as soon as it was here, it was just as soon gone.
"Yes?" Bellatrix tapped the floor with her foot, Hermione's unannounced appearance catching her off guard. And Hermione was drunk of all things. What was so important that she had to come at this hour? Was it something concerning her wand? Or the Azkaban reform program? Had something happened to Hermione, something that would make her turn to the bottle? Who had hurt her Hermione?
Hermione gazed off into the distance unaware of Bellatrix's sudden protective agitation, then shrugged. "I don't remember anymore. I think it was something...about something."
Bellatrix resisted the urge to throw the lamp in annoyance. "Yes, that's very enlightening. I'll make sure to thank you for telling me that in the morning," Bellatrix snapped sarcastically. So there had been in fact nothing of importance to be said because Hermione couldn't recall it. Still didn't explain why Hermione was here. She needed to go home. "Now, if that was all, shoo. Go home." She made a shooing motion at Hermione.
"I can't apparate home by myself."
"Then get one of your friends to come get you."
"I want to sleep here."
Bellatrix's eyes opened wide at that demand. "What?"
"I'm scared," Hermione suddenly said in a tiny voice. "I've never been this drunk before. Not even last time. This time everything is moving. And it's warm. And there's music pounding in my head."
"Then go get your friend to help you with that!" Bellatrix shot, then quieted her voice when she remembered there were aurors who could hear them. "Look, just ask an auror to take you home. You can't stay here. What would the public say when they found out that the golden girl spent the night with a reputed death eater?"
"Ex-death eater," Hermione pointed out, as she stumbled to her feet. "And it was fine last time when I spent the night in your bed."
"Well last time, we were in the afterlife! We didn't know any better." Bellatrix pointed her finger at Hermione to accentuate this point. She watched warily as the girl swayed on her feet. She couldn't tell for sure, but was Hermione drunker than she had been last time? Where were her friends? How did she get like this? Why hadn't they stopped her from getting so drunk? "The same rules don't apply here."
"I want to sleep-hic!-in your bed!" Hermione said this really loudly and out of paranoia, Bellatrix slapped a hand to her mouth.
"Would you shut up," she hissed. "There are other people here that can hear you. Do you want weird rumors running around?" Before Hermione could answer, Bellatrix did for her. "No, you don't. So. Go. Home." Had Hermione always been this annoying drunk?
"I can't," Hermione pushed Bellatrix's hand aside, speaking in a hushed tone, although it was still pretty loud. "I'm drunk."
Bellatrix heaved out a heavy breath. "I know that! That's why I'm telling you, you need to go home, to a friend or something, so that they can take care of you. I can't." Had Hermione merely come over to bother her? Because that was what it was looking to be.
Hermione lunged two steps forwards at this, and wrapped her arms around the older witch's waist as her face planted in between her collarbone and shoulder. "Why can't you take care of me like you did last time?" she whined, her lips ghosting over Bellatrix's skin and making goosebumps erupt there. She didn't want to be alone; needed someone by her side.
Bellatrix froze at the touch. She was never good with people touching her. She blamed it on the fact many wanted to kill her. And on the fact that her parents never hugged her, never encouraged touch as a form of soothing contact. Touch was only good for one thing: inflicting pain on others. That was why she didn't know what to do. Hermione's touch wasn't malignant; it was soft and warm. Bellatrix knew enough about physical contact that this wasn't meant to be harmful, but it was making her chest tight and she didn't like that feeling. So she tried to wretch the girl off.
"All you have to do is let me sleep in your bed. I won't even bother you." A weird thought crowded into Bellatrix's head, one of a different meaning for the word sleep and she immediately kicked herself for thinking that of the golden girl of all people. She wouldn't let herself entertain such thoughts. It was wrong. She definitely needed Hermione to remove herself from her person and now.
But Hermione's grip was tough and she resisted Bellatrix's efforts. "Hermione get off me, you reek of alcohol!" That much was true. A heavy cloud of something sharp and spicy hung around her.
Those words got Hermione off, but she reached in her pocket for a wand to rid herself of this. "I'll get rid of the smell." She sloppily waved her wand around.
"Don't do drunk magic," Bellatrix warned but it was in vain.
"Ablatio." Hermione had meant to remove the scent, but because she was uncoordinated due to her intoxication, what was supposed to be a spell accompanied by a simple motion to the pulse points to remove the smell, she missed and pointed her wand at her shoulders. Thus she was left missing her robes. And she wasn't wearing much underneath.
In the moonlight coming in through the window her skin shone with a sort of youthful radiance, taunting the observer to touch it and Bellatrix could, the other girl so close to her she could feel the heat radiating off of her body. Her collarbone was pronounced, just begging to have someone trace it with their fingers in ghost like touches and Bellatrix mentally did so before she could stop herself. A simple white lace bra clad Hermione's chest, the swells of her delicate breasts curving down into the cups. Bellatrix had to consciously draw her eyes back up before they could go down further past the underwear.
She swallowed heavily, wondering why she was having such an odd reaction. She'd never found another woman alluring. So she most certainly couldn't be feeling this about the golden girl. Why had she even been looking so much? Was it because it was odd seeing the girl showing so much skin? Had Hermione noticed?
No. The girl had only just noticed that she was only wearing a bra and boy shorts. "Well, that's not how the spell works," she commented with no real annoyance. "Maybe I can magic it back-?"
"No. Stop that," Bellatrix placed a hand on Hermione's wand hand, stilling her motions, afraid to see more clothes disappear in fear of her own reactions. "I'll just give you some of my clothes to wear." She couldn't keep a nearly nude Hermione around her. It was...weird. Out of character for one so serious. In fact, this whole night felt like a dream. And maybe it was. Maybe she would wake up in her bed the next day, all of this in her mere imagination.
She dug around in her drawers and got something that looked like it would fit Hermione. "Here, put this on." It was a simple black robe, but better than to let the girl walk back home nearly nude.
Hermione took the material and began to laboriously put it on, having a tough time figuring out where the sleeves were and what to do with them. Bellatrix was almost tempted to rip the robe out of the girls hands and just put it on for her. But she restrained herself. "Now, off with you," she dismissed once Hermione had tied the article of clothing around herself. But the girl didn't seem to hear her. Instead, she gingerly put her wand down on the nightstand and then threw herself onto the bed with a loud huff.
Unbelievable! Bellatrix ground her teeth in annoyance. Was this girl going to stupidly stay here? Was she really trying to share a bed with an ex-death eater? "Hermione," Bellatrix began once more in a low growl. "How many times must I tell you. You can't stay here."
But Hermione only shook her head no and began to pull the covers up around her. Bellatrix was left wringing her hands. She didn't know how to do this-how to deal with someone who was drunk if she herself wasn't drunk, and specially if that someone happened to be the golden girl. Blast it, I wonder if the aurors can get in touch with me for the ministry. Get Potty boys number or Kingsley's. She can't stay here. But how would I explain to them Hermione's being drunk and wanting to actively be here? That would not go over well and would just raise more questions.
Maybe she could try a different approach, if logic wasn't working on Hermione. "Hermione, if you go home, I'll give you a...a book tomorrow," Bellatrix racked her brain for something the brunette would like, as she approached the girl and shook her by the shoulder gently. Still Hermione shook her head no. Ugh, she's insufferable! Bellatrix threw up her hands in exasperation.
"Fine, you can take the bloody bed!" She would just have to resign herself to sleeping on the chair or something.
"You fwell it?" Hermione mumbled out from around the covers, turning around to face Bellatrix.
"What?" The dark haired witch looked down on the brunette whose face was unreadable right now.
"Do you feel it?" Hermione repeated herself, this time less muffled.
"Feel what?"
"The tingles?"
It took her a second to connect what it was Hermione meant since her question had come out of the blue. And when it did connect, Bellatrix pretended she didn't know what Hermione meant. "No. Go to sleep. You wanted to sleep in my bed, so now do it."
Hermione ignored her, reaching out to grasp the other's hand blindly and Bellatrix let her, for whatever reason she didn't understand. "Whenever we touch, it happens. I feel tingles," and as if on cue, Hermione could feel the tingles again, stronger this time, amplified by the liquor in her system. She sat up and let both hands run a course over Bellatrix's, mapping them with touch, absorbing the feel of them; cold against her warmth. Almost like glass and just as delicate looking. It was hard to believe such hands were capable of such soul wrenching pain. Hermione's movements were almost reverent, her thoughts consumed by the sensations invoked. She wanted to touch more-to understand why she felt like this. She liked the feeling, at the same time it worried her.
Bellatrix watched her do this, Hermione's warm fingers sending blossoms of electricity down her arm. She had felt the tingles before, but never as intensely. And she knew long before that Hermione felt them too. She had teased her about it previously.
What was causing this? The soul spell? But she wouldn't admit to it. It felt like a sign of weakness to do so. And she wasn't weak. Yet her fingers twitched with the urge to intertwine themselves with Hermione's.
"You could be feeling them because of the soul spell. Nothing more," Bellatrix whispered. Suddenly it seemed appropriate to whisper. She didn't know why. Hermione looked up at her at this. "But do you, feel them, the same way I do?"
Bellatrix scoffed at this. "There is no way to tell if what we feel is on the same spectrum. Everyone feels and registers things differently. So don't ask me that question. Beside, I don't feel them at all."
"Oh," Hermione seemed disappointed. She bit her lip and lowered her gaze to Bellatrix's hand which was still in the grasp of her own. Bellatrix jerked it back, feeling like enough time had been wasted on silly conversation. "Don't think too much on it. Now, sleep." And she pushed Hermione back to the mattress. Hermione struggled to stay sitting up.
"I don't want to sleep alone. I already said I hate being alone when I'm drunk!" She really, really, didn't want to be alone. She felt overwhelmed with the need for someone else to be by her side, that someone being Bellatrix who had helped her when she was last pissed face drunk.
"I'll be in the same room as you! See, I'll be sitting in that chair right there." Bellatrix pointed to one by the window.
"No, that's too far away! What if I drown?" She didn't want Bellatrix to leave her alone, even that being too far, so she came up with an excuse. As soon as she said it, it made it realistic and likely to happen.
Was Hermione taking the piss out of her? Or did she really think this? "Drown?" Bellatrix arched a brow as Hermione began to tug on her nightgown sleeves, trying to draw her closer to bed.
"Yea, drown."
Bellatrix took a deep breath and slowly let the air out through her nose. "Hermione," she started in as even a voice as she could get, really trying to hold back her ire. "How in the world would you drown in a fucking bed?"
"I just will I know it," she slurred, because to her it made sense as of right this moment. "And if you don't come here, I will scream my bloody head off."
"Hermione-"
Hermione opened her mouth and took a deep inhale. Seeing that the girl was dead serious, Bellatrix clamped a hand over her mouth to stop her. "Fine, fine, I'll bloody do as you ask!"
Hermione let out a happy little cheer and wiggled over to make room for Bellatrix. The dark witch, shaking her head in disbelief at herself and the situation she was in, gingerly laid down on the very edge of the bed, putting as much space as she could between her and Hermione. But the brunette didn't like that. She tried to get closer, only for Bellatrix to push her away.
"What are you doing?" she hissed, glaring in the dark at what she could make out was the general direction of Hermione. Hermione had tried to wrap her arms around the other, in a position too reminiscent of their time in the afterlife. Bellatrix didn't think she could handle that again.
"Sleeping?" was Hermione's innocent reply.
"Sleeping does not require you touching me!" Bellatrix whispered hissed, as she roughly unwound the fingers around her.
"Fine!" Hermione grumped and pointedly turned her back on Bellatrix.
Within moments there was the sound of gentle snores and Bellatrix let out a sigh. Finally, the other was asleep. Now she could get some peace. She wondered if Hermione would remember any of this come morning. Probably not. Then it would be Bellatrix's job to remind her, and oh, how she would have fun with this. She would make sure Hermione was thoroughly embarrassed for all the trouble she gave her tonight.
She was about to gently slide out of bed so as to not wake Hermione when the other girl turned around and slid her arm around the other's waist, burying her face in the other's neck. "I knew you would try to get away," she murmured sleepily, a smile in her voice. She could feel Bellatrix stiffen under her touch but she didn't really care and pressed herself closer. It felt nice and she wanted to stay in this position forever while Bellatrix wanted to leave right away. What if an auror came in and saw them like this! Bellatrix could imagine that wouldn't go over very well.
But she knew if she moved now, the other would only protest and make a ruckus, so she figured she'd wait until she really fell asleep and then go. Also...it kind of felt nice. Bellatrix let out a sigh, disappointed in herself. Was she going soft? She had no need for others; for their touch, for their company. All she needed was herself.
As she stared out into the dark, bemoaning her failures to be repulsed by the hug, she noticed Hermione's wand, just lying there out in the open. Bellatrix could just take it. She could use it and leave this blasted prison house behind. She wouldn't have to deal with this reform program any longer, or with being under the ministry's thumb.
She could be free.
And it was but a mere five inches away from her face. So close. And so defenseless. Hermione wouldn't even know it wasn't here until it was too late.
Bellatrix would be long gone by the time Hermione woke up.
And a free woman.
She closed her eyes briefly, aware of the cold wood that lay in front of her that would make her free and powerful once more, and the warm person behind her that made her feel confused and weak.
Then opening her eyes, she made her choice.
A/N: And what will that choice be? Hmm...