I Dream of Sin

Chapter Two: It Continues

See, I don't want to hurt you

But I have no other choice too

I'm sorry about this

But you made me do it

-You Made me Do it, Tommee Profitt-

Her third clear and concise dream with that mysterious dark haired witch took place in the dark woods. Hermione found herself walking through brush, pushing branches back and carefully tugging free her white dress from grabbing brambles. The trees were tall around her and the night was lit up by a massive bonfire that Hermione could smell the smoke from.

Laughter and howling also came from the direction of it and something told Hermione to walk towards there. A dark shadow melted out from the trees and the woman of her dreams matched pace with her, a delighted smile on her carmine lips.

"What is going on now?" Hermione asked. The air was chilly which meant this forest must be far up north for it to be this cold this time of year.

"Your ritual. You accepted to be a witch and now you must bind your decision."

Hermione stopped in her tracks, giving the witch next to her a good look. "You said I could back out of it if I wanted to?"

"And you still can. This is more of a ceremonial matter that shows you off as my new pupil. And it's also a way for you to meet some other witches."

The woman hurried ahead and Hermione rushed after her. There was a thrumming in these woods that made them alive in a way they should or could not be. It was like every last leaf and branch had eyes and was watching her, judging her. It sent shivers down her spine and she had no intention to walk them alone.

"But am I actually a witch?" Hermione questioned. All last night and this day she had pondered over this. Certainly, being a witch explained such things as the vial and the card appearing in her room. But if she had magic, why hadn't she been able to use it prior? Why now did this all become revealed?

"Because, as I said before, you finally had a truly dark thought."

"So all witches are evil? Guided by darkness?" Hermione asked, not liking where this was going. If so, she didn't want to be a witch. She didn't want to turn evil. To be bad like her bullies.

"Silly girl," the woman tsked. "You still have much to learn. Witches and darkness go hand in hand. But you mustn't think darkness is wrong. Or evil. It isn't. There are layers to it. Some layers you can use for yourself, can use to protect yourself in. Others you cannot because those are the ones that will corrupt you. But that is why you have a mentor to guide you. To make sure you do not stray." They had finally arrived close enough to the bonfire, but yet not breached the clearing in which it was in.

"And my powers-"

"Have not manifested because they don't know how. Though I'm certain you've noticed that any wounds you get can now heal by themselves."

Hermione frowned. So that was why her head wound was gone. But still, she had more she needed to know.

"So then how do you know I am actually a witch?" Hermione said, having too many questions crammed in her head and not enough answers.

"We just know. All witches are connected one way or another. We know one of our own kind. And you will too, once you finish training. Now," the woman held out her hand. "Are you ready to join us?"

Hermione wasn't. But if she wanted answers, she had no choice but to go ahead.

She grasped the woman's hand in hers. It was so smooth and cool to the touch and it gave her confidence.

When she exited into the clearing she saw there was a circle of witches there. They all were different ages, some as old as the sands of Egypt, faces lined and sunken in while their bodies sagged. And some so young that they were children not much older than nine.

And they were wearing different clothing. Some were stiff and formal, Puritan like. Others were colorful, like a rainbow had exploded over them.

Had they all arrived here in person or where they only here in their dream like state like Hermione?

Some witches were standing in the trees on the branches, reminding Hermione of crows. Others were on the forest floor, sitting cross legged, or standing. They had been chatting but stopped when Hermione came into the clearing.

All eyes turned to her and she felt self conscious. But the dark haired witch's hand on hers tightened to hold her there. To prevent her from turning back into the bushes and running. "We have a new member. The lovely Hermione Granger. She embarks upon the quest of becoming a witch just like us."

One woman exited the group. Hermione hadn't seen her before but she was remarkable looking in an interesting way. She was short, about Hermione's height, maybe two inches shorter. Her hair was long and blonde and plaited with many miscellaneous objects. Like feathers, keys, sticks and flowers. She wore a colorful bandanna on her head that matched the tie dye nature of her clothing. The material was loose on her and there were over a dozen necklaces on her neck. Some made from beads, some from animal nails, bones, and teeth. Her wrists were also weighed down by many bracelets made of the same material.

And completing her look was a pair of pink glasses that reflected Hermione's face.

"Welcome, young Hermione Granger, witch of the seventh moon under the house of Mercury."

Hermione had no idea what that meant but allowed the blonde haired witch to take her hands and sort of bow over them. "I am Luna Lovegood, witch of the first house and first moon. I serve the stars of Aries and Leo so that they may bring us all good fortunes. Come with me, we shall start the ceremony so you may join us as sisters."

Luna pulled Hermione away, the dark haired witch from Hermione's dream following a half step after. "Do you have any questions before we begin?" she breathed out and Hermione swallowed deeply. "Will, will this hurt?"

"No. It shouldn't."

That wasn't reassuring at all but it was too late now. And surely, a dream couldn't hurt a lot, could it?

Luna stood on one end of the fire, Hermione on the other and the dark haired witch on the other spot. Silence reigned around them, even the night creatures going quiet.

Luna was handed a wooden bowl by one of the witches in the crowd. She grabbed a handful of powder and threw it into the fire. It turned blueish green. "Hermione Granger, do you swear before the sacred fire that you want to become a witch?"

The fire crackled as it awaited her answer. She wasn't certain entirely, but her curiosity begged her to say yes. So she did. "Yes."

The fire roared at this, leaping at bit higher and she took a step back to avoid the heat.

"And do you promise to learn the ways of the dark arts."

"Yes."

The fire jumped again before dying down, as if each answer cemented Hermione's fate more.

"Do you promise to be loyal to your sisters in arms?"

"Yes." Another whoosh of flame each time she responded yes.

"Do you promise to protect your kind, to never do harm to them, or reveal the nature of our kind?"

"Yes."

Each affirmation was easier to say than the last.

"Do you promise to do as you are told by your mentor?"

"Yes."

Luna then turned to the dark witch.

"And do you, Bellatrix Black nee Lestrange, of the mighty house of the Black Sun, consent to being Hermione's mentor?"

Bellatrix. What a fitting name for such a witch.

Bellatrix stuck out her chin. "Yes."

Two witches came from the crowd, one to Bellatrix and one to Hermione. "Hold out your hand child," instructed the silver toothed older woman and Hermione did as asked. Her palm shook with nerves but it was grasped tightly between the witch's gnarled fingers and then she produced a knife from her pocket. It was made of stone and tied with leather to a wooden handle. It looked prehistoric. And before Hermione could even gasp, the knife made a line down her palm and blood pooled free. It stung and Hermione grit her teeth against the pain. The knife disappeared and was replaced by a small chalice. Hermione's hand was tipped over and the blood went into the cup, the elder witch squeezing so that more blood could get out. When it had filled enough, she let go of Hermione's hand and gave her the cup.

Luna raised her hands up. "Let the sacred fire bind with blood the relationship."

Following Bellatrix's motions, Hermione dumped the cup of her blood into the fire at the same time her new mentor did. The flames roared up, turning purple before dying back down to their normal hue. "Now what?" Hermione asked as the witches around them clapped and hooted at the union. The ones in the trees rattled the branches and let out witch like cackles, making leaves rain down.

Hermione didn't feel any different by the ceremony. Would her powers really be unlocked now?

"That is all," her mentor said, smiling and the dancing flames shadows lent her an inhuman look. "Now, we drink and dance and enjoy nature."

And so they did. A crowd of witches surrounded Hermione, all eager to get to know her and to celebrate the joining of a new sister. Bellatrix took an offered cup of drink for herself and leaned against the tree trunk, watching as Hermione began to navigate the world around her.

It was all a bit overwhelming and the night went by in a flurry of pagan music beating a heart beat rhythm to her right, witches talking and introducing themselves to her and her drinking some sort of drink called fire whiskey that felt like fire when it went down her throat.

Steadily as she got drunker she began to dance in front of the fire and it wasn't until the sun began to rise that Hermione finally retired to rest under a pine tree on a bed of dead needles. No sooner had she put her heavy head down than she wakes up the next morning with the fading sound of howling witches in her ears and with the taste of wine still on her tongue.

She scrubs her face and sits up slowly, groaning. She's tired, aching all over, and thinks she might be still drunk. But she's not want to stay home from school, so she gets up, motions slow and sluggish.

When she gets to the bathroom she finds a potion on the counter for her. It's pink and in a bottle that's round with a cork on top. She plucks the note off of it. Drink me. It'll make you feel better.

Bellatrix must have left it for her and her chest swells with warmth. Her mentor already cares for her like family or a friend. But the thought of anything going inside her mouth makes Hermione feel like hurling so she pockets it and decides maybe once she can swallow something down, she'll drink it.

As she goes to wash her face she noticed a red mark on her hand that is so faint. It must have been healed up by her witch abilities. Already it doesn't hurt and as she rubs it, she ponders to think what marvels will she be able to make when she advances her skills. She washes her face and hurries to get to school.

She's so hung over she barely pays attention to any insults slung her way, or even on what's happening in class. She only gets to first period before she feels sick. Sick enough that she needs to leave class. She rushes out, face pale and makes it just in time to the bathroom.

She feels a bit better afterwards and decides maybe now she can swallow down the potion. She does it, with still some difficulty. It has a bubblegum taste and when it goes down she feels some of her headache go away as well as the cramps and dizziness. It's more manageable now.

She's splashing water to cool her sweaty red face, when she hears the doors bang open. It's Daphne in all her bitchy glory.

"Heard you were sick," she sneers nastily. "So, how many pups will it be. And what breed? Pug? German Shepard? Dalmatian?"

The teasing makes Hermione sick to the stomach but for once she's more set on her miserable hangover than on any pain her bully can cause her. "Hey, answer me!" Daphne shrills and approached Hermione, wrapping a hand in her hair and pulling her taunt against her.

Hermione hisses and anger flares in her chest. She sure as hell wished her powers would manifest. That way she could get Daphne to leave her alone.

As if activated by her thoughts, the mirror in between them cracks and then shatters in a burst of shards. Daphne squeaks and turns her back on the glass while the shards harmlessly patter off of Hermione's face.

"What was that?" Daphne asks, wide eyed. Hermione's heart is hammering and she's thinking holy shit. So she does have powers! But can she control them?

When Hermione doesn't say anything, to cover up her weakness and fear, Daphne spits one last jibe at her before vacating the bathroom. "Your ugly face broke the mirror. Wait until I tell everyone this!"

But Hermione could care less about this. She can't wait to tell her mentor on what happened. She looks at the blank spot where the mirror is and her lips make an impressed o shape.

At home, homework is rushed through and dinner is as well, so that Hermione can enter a dream world where her mentor will be waiting for her.

This time she wakes up wearing light gray garbs of a loose fitting dress. And she's in the room she was in when she first met Bellatrix. The woman is standing by a huge cauldron, filling it with hot water. "Well, you're early."

"I wanted to tell you something," Hermione starts, a bit breathlessly.

"Did the potion help?"

"Yes, it did. But...I broke a mirror today out of anger. With my magic."

Bellatrix smiles at this. "Good. You're powers are starting to manifest. However, we must make haste in honing them. Your magic will continue to grow and if you don't know how to control it, than it can hurt you and others." She put the bucket down, the cauldron filled. "That is why today, we are going to make a potion of Coercitio."

"What's that?"

"A potion that will restrain your powers until you can control them without harming yourself. We'll make a batch and you will take one drop each day." Bellatrix beckoned Hermione to come closer.

"I don't know how to brew potions," Hermione protested. What if she made a mistake? Could she kill someone with a wrongly brewed potion?

"Do you want to learn to be a witch or not?" Bellatrix cocked her head, testing her.

"I want to do good. I do. I want to be a proper witch. Or at least learn more about my heritage."

"You have much studying to do, than, young Hermione. But fear not, I'll send you some books that you can use to study on the culture, history and what else of witch heritage. But while you are in the dreams with me, you focus only on the task I give you," she stated, clutching Hermione's chin in her long fingers across the cauldron. "Do you understand?" Her black eyes looked hungry for an answer so Hermione quickly nodded her head yes. She did not like disappointing teachers.

"I understand, Bell-"

"You will not call me by my first name," she cut in sharply, nails making marks on Hermione's smooth flesh. "Until you have earned that right, you will address me as Miss Black. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Hermione obediently said and in a quiet voice. She had never expected her mentor to be this sharp.

"Good," Bellatrix purred, letting go. "Now, I want you to grab me eye of newt, toe of frog, wool of bat, tongue of dog, and adders fork."

Hermione's eyes bulged out. "Witches really do use eye of newt in their potions?"

"Don't be silly. Those are just our names for simple ingredients that are actually flowers, derived so as to put off humans from stumbling across one of our spells and using them. Eye of newt is mustard seed, toe of frog is buttercup, wool of bat is holly leaves, tongue of dog is hounds tongue and adders fork is adders tongue."

Huh, Hermione hadn't known that. But she still didn't know what those ingredients were. "I don't know what those are," Hermione said, feeling a bit vapid to announce this.

"The jars are labeled. Be a good girl and read the labels and take them down."

Hermione peered over the rows and rows of labeled jars. Bellatrix's handwriting was difficult to read, as it was a mix between cursive and chicken scratch, so Hermione had to ponder over some of the bottles until she found the right ones. She brought the correct one's back to Bellatrix.

"Listen carefully to my instructions. You must add specific measurements of the ingredients so as not to make mistakes. Simply adding one drop of something else can mess up a whole potion and render it incapable of being consumed."

Hermione intently listened and stirred the cauldron like she was instructed to. Almost like magic, perhaps because it was magic, the potion came to life before her very eyes and soon she was scooping a ladelful out and into a small bottle for her to take back.

Her mentor did not dole out praise easily. Only looked at Hermione like this was expected of her and nothing less.

"Use this with restraint. If you use too much, even if it is brewed well enough, it can still cause adverse affects, such as constipation and inability to speak properly because the potion can restrain many things more than just your power."

Hermione nodded her head, admiring the glowing pink property of this drink. A thrill ran through her. She had just brewed her first potion. She was on her way to becoming a proper witch.

The rest of her lesson that night was spent familiarizing herself with the typical ingredients a witch used and bottling up the rest of the potion.

When Hermione awoke that morning, she found a hefty stack of dark and ancient tomes on her desk. These were the books Bellatrix promised her. Lying on top was her card with the elegant gold script. Make sure to read and study these. I will test you at the end of the month. Hermione glanced at her calendar. That would be in two weeks time. Could she manage to read all these books and memorize everything?

She would only know if she tried.

Hiding an excited grin she went to the bathroom so she could take a drop of her newly concocted potion and get ready for school.

Hermione would get antsy sitting in her classes now. It was hard to be enthralled by math or English or even the science they were learning when she had so many more interesting and fantastical things waiting for her at home. Science wasn't even correct anymore, because the way magic functioned, bent the rules of science to some extent and Hermione would love to prove her teacher wrong, to reveal to others that she knew about a spectacular thing. She longed to show off her magic skills to them. But she could not. She had to keep the secret safe.

Two weeks passed by quickly with only minimal bullying. Just the usual fare- trashing her locker, ruining her desk with graffiti, throwing spit balls at her, pushing her in the halls. But this didn't bother her anymore. Not like it once had. Her mind was too preoccupied with witch work and pondering over the latest marvel to even care.

She doodled on her notes in class, drawing symbols she had seen on her wiccan textbooks. When she got home she would rush through her day's work, and her meals before clambering into bed so she could get the most out of her dreams. And each morning when she awoke before her alarm at seven, she cursed the fact she had to be interrupted.

Bellatrix would alternate their sessions between making potions and mediation. Apparently mediating helped with being able to tap into the well of magic inside Hermione.

"Witches are magical beings. Beings that can tap into the well of magic in this world. Inside us is a battery, in more modern terms, that we can use and use until it is time to recharge. However, we can exhaust our own batteries quite easily. So it is important to be able to tap into the magic of the world. It is like a giant river that runs underneath our feet wherever we may be. Some areas are more magical than others and provide us with lots of magic. Others less so."

"And how do I know what those areas are?" Hermione asked as she sat crossed legged on a mat with six candles lit around her in a circle. Bellatrix paced around, talking and waving sage root around, the smoke of it wrapping around Hermione like a suffocating blanket.

"You have too many questions. You must quiet your mind. You must look deep inside yourself."

"I can't. I don't know how."

"You will. Otherwise we will get nowhere," Bellatrix said unapologetically. "You have much magical potential inside you. Do not waste it."

Hermione let out a huffy breath and tried. Each time she felt like she had calm, it slipped away and she grew frustrated. But, she knew without this, she wouldn't be able to move ahead with her training.

Potion making was going more smoothly for Hermione. She was detailed with her work and a perfectionist, so she was able to finely chop herbs and other ingredients like asked. Soon she was making potions for baldness, for colds, for aches and pains. Potions that were harmless in a sense.

"You'll make more interesting potions soon. Potions that cause twisted hearts and minds and bodies."

"Will they hurt others?"

"They can. Which is why it is mainly illegal to brew them and actually use them. The ingredients to make them are closely regulated and only in cases of intellectual pursuit or governmental use are these potions allowed. So, it will be okay for us to make them. What you choose to do with them afterwards, is up to you," Bellatrix gave a devious smirk and a wink. "I won't tell."

Hermione tingled with the urge to test them out. To see the effects in person. As if sensing that, Bellatrix brought a participant for their next potion making session.

Hermione had just brewed an Aquae Super Terram, or water on land potion, the effects of which Bellatrix had not said anything about. Instead of being in the basement that day, they ended up in a room upstairs where it was a study of some sort. At the small desk sat a man with a blank look on his face, just looking on at the wall, not even turning his head when they came in.

Hermione had not expected another guest in Bellatrix's mansion, for it was only ever the two of them and she wondered what he was doing here.

Hermione was forced to face the man before her.

"Who is this?" she whispered from the side of her mouth.

"A man who volunteered to help us," Bellatrix said, not bothering to be quiet as they talked about him. "Tell him to drink the potion."

Something told Hermione this man wasn't here of his free will but who was she to question her mentor.

"Uh, okay." She cleared her throat, turned to the man, potion in her hand. "Drink this."

He rose up and took it without question, his eyes unblinking. Hermione watched in mild fascination as he upended it into his mouth. But her fascination soon turned to horror as his skin began to turn blue.

"What's going on?" she panicked, backing away from him as he dropped to his knees, grabbing his throat and sputtering as his eyes bulged.

"The potion is working. Splendid job in brewing it," Bellatrix said contently, arms folded behind her back as she watched. Hermione turned to her with panic in her eyes as the man continued to struggle. Water poured out of his mouth; he was choking on it.

"We need to stop this! He's going to die!" But Bellatrix merely waved a hand in the air as if to dismiss those concerns. "He won't die." She produced a slim vial from her pocket. "This is the counter potion. Squeeze two drops into his ear and all should be well."

Hermione snatched it so quickly from Bellatrix's hand that she nearly dropped it. She rushed to do as told and immediately saw an effect. The man's face went back to normal and the water stopped pouring from his mouth. He stood back up to his feet and resumed sitting in his chair as if nothing had occurred.

"You are dismissed," Bellatrix told the man. He left the room without another word.

"Now, we are going to have you learn on making the counter potion," Bellatrix announced though Hermione was still shaken over what had happened. Were they not going to talk about it? How could her mentor be so casual about this?

Maybe the older witch was just used to this. Something about her confident demeanor spoke of being through many trials and of overcoming them no matter how gruesome. Hermione needed to have that attitude if she wanted to be a proper witch. If she wanted to be the best. So she stopped her trembling and held her back out as she followed after her mentor.

"And who was the first well known witch to found the Order of the Witches?"

"Hecuba," Hermione answered back like a snap. She was ready. She had studied for this test and she was determined to ace it.

Bellatrix did not look impressed, only fired out more questions like a machine gun, barely pausing to hear Hermione's answer.

"And who was the first notable wizard to make a codus of conduct for magic kind?"

"Merlin?"

"What was the name of the first book of spells?"

"Incantamentum Prior."

"Who wrote it?"

"Hecuba's grandchild, Myrtle Whitewood."

"Who created wizarding parliament?"

"Sygor Nightfall. Who did it because he wanted peace between the clans of witches and wizards and wanted to unite them against the humans in case of war."

"Last one: Hogwarts. Who were the four founders?"

"Rowena Ravenclaw, Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff and Godric Gryffindor."

Bellatrix let a small smile grow on her lips. "Very good. But there is still much more you must learn." She patted a new stack of books next to her. "Today we won't be having lessons. You can take this time to take a break and start studying new material."

That wasn't really much of a break, but who was Hermione to deny or reject more knowledge about her bloodline? She cracked open a dusty tome and began to read avidly as her mentor sat by the window, gazing outside it and twirling a finger through her inky locks.

Hermione found her eyes drawn to the visage of her mentor ever so often. She had a strong profile, high cheekbones and lips that screamed vivid red. Hermione wondered what it would be like to touch her skin. To touch the mess of her hair. To feel the scratchy material of her dress and it's high collars.

"Hungry?" Bellatrix asked, and Hermione startled, not having realized that Bellatrix was looking at her now.

"Uh, no," Hermione cleared her throat and shoved her blushing face into her book. Why was the older witch asking her if she wanted a snack? She caught the start of a satisfied smirk from the edge of her vision but Bellatrix didn't say anything more just walked out of the room with a swish of her clothing.

Hermione felt tempted to leave after her. No, it was almost like Bellatrix was hinting at her to follow. She had left the door open, after all. Hermione stood up, closed her book and followed after her mentor. She had no idea where the woman was. The house was big and empty, wood creaking with each step she took. Her hand slid on the wooden banister. It was old and worn and Hermione wondered how many other young witches had walked down these halls. Had been taught by Bellatrix. The thought of her with other women made Hermione jealous. Irrepressibly so.

She tried to drown it out by examining the rest of the house. She had only ever been in four rooms before. The bedroom, the dining room, the study, and the potions room. She knew there was more to explore.

When she got to the first floor, she found the front door open. She exited it, exited into the dark night, to see Bellatrix was standing at the front gate. She had her hands on the iron wrought gate, gazing up at the stars. Hermione approached her, the night bugs playing a symphony for them. She didn't dare speak, worried she might break whatever was going to happen. And something was going to happen. She just knew it.

"Don't be jealous," Bellatrix spoke suddenly, almost reading Hermione's thoughts.

"How do you-"

"Some witches can read minds. It's called Occumelancy. I try not to read your mind, but it's so loud." She tapped Hermione on the forehead, a cheeky grin on her face. Suddenly it made so much more sense when Bellatrix had asked if Hermione was hungry.

Hermione flushed. Had Bellatrix heard what she had been thinking of before? How mortifying!

"Don't be ashamed. You are a young girl, ready and hungry to explore the world. I was too when I was your age. Insatiable almost." She opens the gate and makes a line straight down the hills that stand in front of the manor and Hermione goes after her, like an obedient pup. There is a dark patch in front of them that gets bigger and bigger as they near. It's the woods, full of dark imposing trees and low hanging shrubbery that snatch with greedy fingers at their clothes.

"I didn't...I didn't mean to be disrespectful with my thoughts-" Hermione started, fiddling with her hands and a nervous sweat running down her neck.

Bellatrix chuckled, something dark and sultry. It slipped inside Hermione's mind and ran on repeat there until she had wrung every last enjoyment out of it.

"I'm quite flattered by your thoughts, Hermione. But you are not the first or last to think of me this way. I know my looks. I know what they make others feel."

They had come to a small lake with a waterfall falling down over some rocks. "Why are we here then?" Hermione asked.

"You thought I would punish you?"

"No. I don't know. I just..." she shrugged, not sure how to vocalize her words.

"No, I came to show you something. I figured you could use it to satisfy some of that curiosity of yours. About the occult of course, not me," Bellatrix quickly amended when she saw Hermione's thoughts once more and how they had wandered to thoughts of Bellatrix disrobing.

"Sorry. Sorry!" she scrambled out, feeling so awkward and like shit.

Bellatrix grinned a smile that was all teeth. "Don't be," she said, drawing closer to Hermione, clutching her chin in her hand. They stood so close, Hermione could feel the other woman's cool breath ghost against her cheeks when she spoke. "I think you're quite adorable myself."

"I'm not-" Hermione countered. She had been called ugly by so many. Degraded for her curly hair, her big eyes, and her frumpy outfits.

"You don't see yourself like I do, Hermione. Come," she took the younger girl's hand and lead her to the lake. In the reflection, Hermione could see herself but she was different. A good different. Her hair was curly, but not a tangled mess. It looked like movie curls. Her skin was perfectly clear and her eyes seemed to sparkle with an iridescent glow. It was like she was glowing with power one way or another. And the gray dress she was wearing was very flattering on her.

"Why do I look different?" Hermione asked in wonder, touching her hands to her face as if it couldn't be hers. She looked more confident, more at home inside her own skin.

"Because that's the true you. You just need to be able to release her. But, you'll learn with time. I actually came to show you something else." Bellatrix dug into her pocket and pulled out a wooden tool that was an instrument of some sort because when she blew into it, an odd noise came forth.

She played it for a while and soon the water of the lake began to ripple, heads popping out of the water as the strange creatures swam forward. Their eyes were cat like and they had kelp for hair. Hermione could only see half their faces and their webbed hands. The music was drawing them forth and they released some clicking warbling noises of their own.

"What are those?"

"Naiads," Bellatrix answered, stopping her music. "We are not the only magical creatures to inhabit this world. But only can those with magic touch those with magic. You'll learn more about such creatures. Not all of them are harmless," she said as the heads popped down into the water.

Hermione's grin grew large. Each day she grew more and more in love with world opened to her. She could not wait to devour all she could about it. Her magic thrummed under her skin, eager to be let out and to connect with the world around it as well.

Soon, she thought.

And so Hermione trained and trained and with each session she got closer and closer to connecting with her inner magic until finally one night it happened. It was so sudden and unexpected that Hermione was taken aback by it. Breathless almost. But it felt good. Felt like meeting up with an old friend. An old friend that entirely understood her and everything she stood for. It warmed her insides, chilled them, soothed her and exalted her all at the same time.

She couldn't wait to test it out. To see how she could use her new found magic. Could she build rooms with it? Make it do her chores for her? Make her taller and stronger? So many possibilities and Bellatrix only chuckled when she read Hermione's mind.

"You'll find that magic has many possibilities but also many impossibilities. Magic can only bend the realities of physics so far before even it too has limits. But we won't be getting into magic theory. That's something a bit too philosophical and we need to focus more on action and skill rather than that."

Magic theory did sound interesting. But Hermione was certain there would be time to learn later.

"Now, I want you to focus on casting this one spell. It's a stupefy and a fundamental spell in our world. Handy for anything, like shutting up an annoying person or taking out an enemy so you can run."

"Don't I need a wand to cast magic?"

"You do. But, I simply want to see what degree your wandless magic is at. Often they say the easier it is for you to do magic without a wand, the stronger you are." To demonstrate, Bellatrix spun her wrist and then let loose a blue colored spell. It slammed into a dummy she had brought in for practice today and the dummy went flying back. With a wiggle of her finger, she righted the dummy once more.

"Try that."

Hermione sucked in a breath, willing her magic to work with her. It was coiled inside her, like a snake ready to strike. She mimicked Bellatrix's hand gesture and the dummy exploded. It startled her and she winced as some shards of wood pelted her face.

Bellatrix arched a brow at this. "A lot of magic inside you. But it's extremely volatile. It wants to get out. We'll have to train it. Think of it like training a dog."

She could feel her magic recoil at that, upset at being likened to a dog, upset at having to be restrained. Hermione soothed it by placing a hand to her chest over her heart, where her magic was the strongest. She assured it that this would be for the benefit of both of them.

But it didn't want that. It wanted to be out. It wanted to be used, especially on those that had hurt Hermione before. Use us, it's voice plead, a sound like buzzing electricity and chain saws. Make us strong. Make us protected.

It certainly amazed her that her magic was living. That it had emotions too. When she asked Bellatrix about this, the woman nodded her head knowingly. "Our magic is part of our soul and our heart. And it becomes sentient based on our personality or based on things that have occurred to us, like grand emotional events. Should a person grow up safe and sheltered than their magic will be very obedient to the owner. Should a person's life be hard, filled with depressing events, than that magic might seek to lash out instinctively at everyone."

That explained why Hermione's magic felt like this. She would need to control it, put more effort it chaining it to her. Naturally, she would do that afterwards. Now that she had it, she just wanted to see how it felt like to truly use it. Just once outside of her dream world.

"And what does your magic feel like?"

"That's a personal question, Hermione."

"Sorry," Hermione squeaked out. She hadn't known it was. "I didn't mean to-"

"But I'll indulge you just for now. My magic feels like a caged frenzied animal that wants to get out and murder everyone. To burn this world to the ground."

That sent a chill down Hermione's back as Hermione understood indeed, that her assumptions on her mentor's previous life and how full of strife it was, had not been wrong.

"You must be very strong to control it like that," Hermione commented, in awe.

"On the contrary, my star. It's to be expected of us to control our magic. To live with this other 'being' inside us. But being able to give into that magic and remain unchanged by it, that is strong," Bellatrix said. And then they were moving on, Hermione being told to try out different spells in order to get a feel for using her magic and then calling it back in.

The morning after, Hermione's skin tingled with remaining magic on it. She could still feel the magic bubbling under her skin, wanting to get out now that she had finally made a connection with it. So she didn't take the potion today before she went to school. Already she could feel stronger. Feel more free. This was how it was meant to be. Having her powers at her disposal.

It was a heady emotion, and so wrapped up in it was she, that she didn't notice the three figures going into the school bathroom until it was too late. Pansy, Daphne and Blaise were all there, leering at her.

"You've got your head in the clouds lately and I don't think we like that," Pansy said, cracking her knuckles as Hermione slowly backed away from them, unintentionally backing up into a corner, into one of those stalls.

She was scared, fear running through her. Protect us, her magic hissed at her. Fight back. But it was one thing to do magic on a dummy and another entirely to do on a living breathing person. She didn't even know how she could protect herself yet. No wait, she did know. She could use stupefy on them. It would only knock them out and then she could escape. The motions of the spell went through her head. She would only use a little of her power. Not enough to hurt anyone.

She felt a kernel of cool fill her, washing away the fear.

"Ah, Blaise, I didn't know not only were you gay, but that you identified as a woman now," Hermione said, cocky because of her power. It was pounding through her, emboldening her though she shouldn't let it get to her head.

It had been the wrong thing to say. And she was about to pay for it.

"The fuck you say to me, beansprout?" Blaise shrilled, face flushing red and before Hermione could respond to the static gathering between her fingers, his fist slugged her so hard that she hit the floor, head cracking the tiled wall on the way down.

She blacked out.

She must have, because when she came to the bathroom was freshly vacant and blood was sticky where she had hit her head. Anger and magic boiled over in her veins. The pain in her skull faded away as her powers healed her and she pulled herself up. She reached for the door to exit the stall and the door flung off its hinges, ripping and flying off into the wall with a metal groan. The mirrors and lights began to shake, and Hermione was so pissed off she didn't even care.

But soon she would, because her magic was vibrating the air around her, making it go sour. Making it hot like a desert breeze. It aimed to hurt and it lashed out at anyone around her, indiscriminate.

A girl had just walked in to use the restroom, eyes going wide as she saw the damage in it and Hermione with her hair flinging out and around like a leaf in a storm. Before she could say anything, Hermione's magic reacted.

It zapped out of her skin, arching out and hitting the closet person in vicinity which happened to be someone innocent of this whole incident. They fell onto the floor, blood cascading out of their nose as their eyes rolled into the back of their head until only the whites showed. This was terrible!

No!

It had all gone wrong!

Hermione dropped to her knees next to them. What was she to do? Shit.

Who did she even tell?

Her anger dropped to panic and so did the magic whirling around her. It only sparked here and there but the mirrors and lights stopped shaking.

She was freaking out. Shit. Shit.

She fumbled for her phone, deciding she needed to call the police. Or the ambulance. Shaking fingers typed out the number only for the phone to short circuit as her magic got to it.

"Fuck!" she screamed out, and she threw the useless piece of shit against the stone tiles. It broke but she couldn't care less. She had to get help before she became a murderer.

She raced through the halls, rushing into the principal's room with a wild look on her face. "Please, help me," she begged the secretary who had never seen the usually collected Hermione look so scared.

"Hermione. What's wrong-"

"Get the principal! Somebody's hurt badly in the girl's bathroom!"

Hermione went home that day not knowing what the outcome of the incident would be. She desperately hoped everything would be alright. If not, she was a killer. She squeezed her eyes shut as she laid flat on the bed. No, she couldn't think of it that way. She had to go to her dream world and ask her mentor what would happen.

Would she be mad at Hermione for disregarding her rules? In not drinking the potion? And what about the girl? She surely saw Hermione and her magic. What if the girl told? Than Hermione would have revealed her witch sisters to the world and she had promised to keep them safe. To keep their secrets.

She sucked in her bottom lip, trying to stop the stem of tears from welling out her eyes. She hoped Bellatrix wouldn't be mad. That she would be able to help. To even this all out. Something told her Bellatrix would handle the aftermath. That she already knew what happened without having to be told.

Hermione eventually fell into a worried slumber. And when she woke, it was to Bellatrix's knowing and understanding face. She enveloped the younger girl in a comforting hug, wanting to dispel her anxieties.

"Do not fret, my star," Bellatrix cooed, nails raking through Hermione's curls in all the right ways. She shuddered in relief and something more with each stroke, relaxing into the older witch's bosom, inhaling her scent of lilies and nutmeg. "All is as it should be."

And Hermione believed her words, for now. She stayed like that as Bellatrix hummed to her a lullaby that soothed her soul. That same one from before that resonated with her on a deeper level.

A/N: The lullaby that Bellatrix sings is based on the Witch's Daughter by Ashley Serena.

Some more witch themed music: Silva Maleficus by Peter Gundry is good for reading the ritual scene with.