I Dream of Sin
Chapter Four: A Wand to Bewitch
Point your fingers, the blame's on me
(That girl is psycho)
They've turned their backs
(That girl is psycho)
If they wanna see evil
(That girl is psycho)
They haven't seen anything yet
-Voodoo, Nyx-
Eight months prior
They were getting a wand for Hermione today.
"As a reward for finally tapping into your magic, we're going to get you a proper witch's wand." Bellatrix said, gleeful in this fact, red lips wide.
Hermione wasn't as certain, lagging behind Bellatrix as they walked down the cobblestone paths of an unfamiliar area. It was night out and the lamps shone with a light from the fairies trapped inside them. No one else was out on the streets except for them. Bellatrix was dressed in her all black once more, dress swishing around her heeled boots as they clacked against the bricks. On her nose were black shades, despite the fact there was no sun out.
Hermione's hands were buried deep in the pockets of her gray and red striped dress. She felt undeserved of the wand. Felt like she couldn't be trusted with it.
"What's wrong, my star?" Bellatrix asked, sensing Hermione's reluctance even without turning around.
"I...I hurt someone badly, Miss Black. I don't think I should be trusted with a wand."
Her voice was small and defeated. Punishing her own self.
"Nonsense. You made a mistake. All young witches do. That doesn't mean you can't use the wand. With it, you'll be able to channel that magic out with care and control and ease. You need a proper conduit."
When that didn't work, given Hermione's silence, Bellatrix swiveled on her heel and tugged the brunette to her, hugging her. Hermione sunk into the hold right away, inhaling the scent of lilies and nutmeg. It calmed her when nothing else could. "All will be alright. They'll live, my star."
"I could have killed them." Hermione's response was muffled by Bellatrix's clothe.
"Yes, you could have but you didn't. An important distinction. But, tell me, how did it feel to have all that power at your disposal?"
"It felt...it felt heady," Hermione admitted, thinking back to how the power had surged through her making her feel weightless, and untouchable. Her lips had curled up into a wicked smile and she'd let go full force. "But it was wrong." She knew it was wrong but it was hard to force herself to feel truly remorseful for it when something in her body told her not to. It was like a tickle at the back of her throat. And she couldn't quite get rid of it.
"It's not wrong to be excited by magic. We deserve that magic. It's ours. And we need to be proud of it."
"Even when it hurts others?"
"Our magic only wants to protect us. To serve us," Bellatrix said, soothing a hand through Hermione's curls and evoking a shudder of pleasure down Hermione's body that she could not control and did not want ending. "There is no use in thinking on past mistakes. We must move forward." And her mentor left it at that. She was tough and no nonsense. Hermione was more sensitive. But she sensed she wouldn't be babied any further on this.
She followed her mentor to a wand shop. It was dark inside but when Bellatrix went around the back of the small and narrow building, the side door opened up to admit them.
Hermione followed inside into the back room where a lamp emitted a low glow. A short man, almost the height of a dwarf, greeted them. He did not have a pleasant look on his face and he had long tufts of gray hair sticking up on his head in a crescent moon shape.
"I heard you needed a proper wand and I provide," he spoke in unclear English.
"Not for me, you old coot," Bellatrix scowled down at him. "But for my protegee. She is just learning how to become a witch."
"Ah, than I will need her hand. To measure," he said, jumping to it and pulling out a magical tape. Hermione stuck out her hand, a bit uneasy at this midnight secrecy and exchange. Or maybe this was how all wand meetings went. She wouldn't know. She was new to this whole being a witch thing. He measured her hand- the length, the width, even each segment of her fingers.
"A good steady hand. With delicate fingers. Skin is soft and uncalloused which means an easy life for you."
It hadn't been an easy life. "It's not," she burst out randomly, unable to put a lid on her emotions when she had endured so much bullying for so long.
He looked up at her with an odd look. "I know dear. I meant physically, you haven't done much labor besides wrists cramping up with too much writing and fingers cutting on pages of book after book."
"Oh." This man could tell so much from her hand. It was amazing. And unnerving.
"I know just the wand," he said to Bellatrix before moving into a back room to get it. He came out with a slender wooden thing. "Vine, 11 inches. It is a gentle and easy wand-"
"She needs a powerful wand. Not a simpleton's wand," Bellatrix cut in.
"But the vine wand is a good one for beginners. It will treat her well and-"
"She doesn't need to be coddled. She's nearly a grown woman. Get her something more befitting of her status."
"Right away," he simpering, leaving and coming back with a wand made of dark wood. It wasn't straight and thin like the other one but slightly bent at the tip, with a gnarled knob in the middle. "This is a walnut and dragon string wand," he said and offered it up for Hermione to take. She was wary. Could she hurt someone with it? But when her fingers touched down on dark wood, nothing happened. The wood did tingle under her hand, like it was somehow alive but that was it.
"Well, give it a wave around."
Hermione did as asked by her mentor and saw sparks erupt from the wand tip. She jolted back in shock but Bellatrix's two strong hands pushed against her shoulder blades to prevent her from going any further.
"It's a bit stubborn but we'll break it in," Bellatrix deduced and then pulled out of her pocket a small bag of what must be coins. She tossed it to the man and then steered Hermione by the elbow out of the shop. Hermione didn't know what to do with her new wand or where to put it.
"It's not a loaded gun. It won't go off," Bellatrix said and Hermione put the wand in her back pocket still feeling unsure with it.
"Now what?"
"Now we're going to train with it. Practice some wrist and hand motions and some incantations." They came to the fireplace they had used to come here and throwing some green powder into the blazing hearth in the middle of the inn, Bellatrix called out the name of the house they would be returning to. Hermione was still amazed by how this worked, but no one seemed shocked to see them exiting and leaving through fire.
"They're our kind. Magical folk. Don't worry," Bellatrix explained, indicating for Hermione to go first.
The flames only tickled a bit as she walked through and found herself on the other of the fireplace, in her mentor's house. Bellatrix stepped through after her and the fire turned normal. They went into a room that was mainly wooden lamented floors and nothing else but heavy oak walls and doors. Bellatrix lifted up her own wand. It too was gnarled and knobby, even more crooked than Hermione's. It was a wonder she was even able to use it.
"Now, follow my hand motions," she said and Hermione eagerly did as asked. If she could learn to control her magic through a wand, she would never have to accidentally hurt anyone else, ever again.
The wand returned with her to the real world. But, she could not use it, for Bellatrix still insisted on Hermione taking the restraining drops and Hermione was inclined to follow the instructions since last time something so terrible had happened and she had no intention of making it happen once more even as her magic writhed and hissed at her to let it free. She was eager to get her powers under control and she really wished to be a good witch. To understand her destiny more.
Her mentor had not spoken much about it, because she claimed not to know much herself and that with time and practice more truths would be revealed to them both. The best thing they could do know was to train and train and train until Hermione's full potential could be realized.
"How long does a witch need to be trained for?" she asked one day as they were practicing simple jinxes.
"It depends on the witch. I think with the speed you are devouring everything, you should be done within a year or two."
"That quickly?" Hermione was a bit surprised and pleased by her mentor's praise.
"You're doing very well with everything I have taught you so far. However, before you can finish being a witch, you must do a feat of greatness to prove your worth."
"Like what?"
"Something personal to you. Or something not personal to you. Frankly, I think you should do something with the school you attend. Those humans there are quite horrid. Something should be done about them."
Flashes of blood. Crackling magic zooming through the air. Hermione's stomach sank while her heart pounded in excitement. "You want me to h-hurt them?" she stuttered out.
"Nobody said anything like that," Bellatrix tipped her head coyly, watching as Hermione moved her hands in up and down motions and then side to side and then in odd formations, as she practiced different jinxes back to back. Her casting speeds were still slow, but nothing that training couldn't help with. Bellatrix approached her to steady her wrist. She could feel Hermione's pulse fluttering under her tight grip and the girl's cheeks took on a pinkish hue as she slid behind her, breasts leaning on the thin girl's blades.
She rested her chin on her shoulder, humming in content as Hermione allowed her arm to be moved correctly. "You always get the Crus Gelata jinx wrong. It's a Z motion followed by a slash at 90 degrees and not 95 degrees. If you can't tell such subtle differences in degrees apart, than how will you learn the more delicate spells?"
"I can learn it," Hermione said with a shaky inhale trying to ignore the sensation of Bellatrix touching her. It was hard to do so when each touch brought sparks careening down between her legs, making the blood pool there. Her lungs expanded and Bellatrix could feel her moving against her.
"Good," Bellatrix said and then stepped away, watching with scrutiny as Hermione tried it over and over again until she finally got it on her tenth try. "I want you to practice this spell for homework until you can do it with your eyes closed. But, back to your final task, you don't have to hurt anyone. You can simply make them revere you."
"There is a potion for that?"
Bellatrix laughed at that. "My star, there are no potions to garner respect. There are potions for great many things but unfortunately that is one thing that cannot be forced by a potion. Even forcing luck is dangerous and can only be done twice in one's life with a brewed potion of luck. However, there are other means of making your person be more respected."
"Such as?"
Bellatrix conjured up a chair from nothing with a quick slash of her wand before sitting down in it backwards, legs spread. She was wearing black leather pants and a ruffle top shirt in black so that she could move more easily while training Hermione. However, she had said a true witch would be able to move in any clothing well enough to defend herself.
They were going to get to spells that would be used for fighting and for defense soon and it both excited and terrified Hermione. She didn't want to truly hurt anyone. Or maybe she did? Her magic thrummed at the thought of it. Of being used to do something more interesting than mundane everything things.
But Bellatrix had said every witch needed to start from the basics. From house hold spells to more bombastic ones.
"Making them respect you with awe, or reverences, or fear. Really, there is no shortage of ways to accomplish that. But I will not tell you how to go about completing this. This is your final task and you must find a way to make the school better. To make them respect you."
The task seemed impossible. How could she make others like her? They never had. The whole school hated her, except for the teachers.
"How did you do it?" Hermione asked, wanting to know more about her mentor and her past. There were so many blanks about the older woman's life. In fact, her whole personae was a blank canvas, waiting to be painted on. To have the story told.
Her mentor cocked her head to the side, her eyes swallowed up by darkness, gazing at Hermione in contemplation on how much she should share. "Let's say, I used fear. People are afraid of that which they do not know. And once they are scared enough, you can get them to do anything for you as long as they think doing so will make them safe from harm." She rocked back and forth in the chair. "Additionally it was the most challenging path to take."
"How so?"
"Because fear and hate are very close to each other. But getting to fear and love is much, much harder."
Hermione was so wrapped up in her lessons that she barely paid much attention to what was happening in the real world. She knew she was living a fantasy life, but in a way now it was her real life and the life she had in school felt very fake.
The adults in her life began to notice. Unfortunately.
"Hermione, you're so withdrawn," her mother commented one evening in which both of her parents were home early with no work. Hermione scrapped her fork on the peas she had been about to scoop up. Her chewing on tough stringy meat stopped. The meat was so hard and overcooked. When Bellatrix offered her food in the dreams after their sessions were done, it was always with meat that was soft and bloody, just melting in her mouth. She had gotten used to the raw taste of it, and this cooked meat felt unnatural to her, as did the gobs of mashed potatoes and peas. It all felt...so boring.
Not how it was in her dreams, where she would taste all manner of exotic food. Bellatrix would have her servants prepare it for them, though Hermione never saw the servants in question. And they would feast upon odd smelling but delicious fruits as well as even sample dragon wing soup, or chimera sandwiches. Though repulsive at first, Hermione had gotten used to them and liked the taste. It reminded her how special she was now. Special in that only she could try this and her human parents could not.
"I just have a lot of work," she answered at last, as she realized her parents were looking at her, waiting for an answer.
"Are you getting enough sleep?" her dad asked. "You have dark circles under your eyes."
"I am. I'm just overworked," she mumbled, stabbing down on her peas. One of them split open, revealing a rotting center. How odd. It had looked so normal on the outside that it hadn't been caught and thrown out.
"It's not those terrible kids bothering you, is it?" her mother pressed and Hermione actually was a bit shocked here when she nodded her head no.
"They haven't bothered me in a while," she said, just now realizing this. She had been too wrapped up in her dream world and her studies of magical text to even bother thinking about her bullies for some time. And she wondered why they hadn't picked on her in a while. Were they bored? Scared of her? But no, she hadn't done anything for them to fear her yet.
Huh. How odd. It felt so odd to not have to worry about them now when she had had to live with the crushing weight of them each day. It was like a lead cloud that rested upon her shoulders and only got heavier and heavier each time something bad happened.
Now it had popped and she felt light. She smiled to herself and then continued eating her boring meal.
At school the next day, she was accosted by one of her teachers surprisingly. He asked her to stay behind in class and when she did, he showed her the score of her recent test. It was a 90.
"Hermione, I am worried," he said. A 90 for her was a low grade, probably the lowest she had gotten in a while. "Are you okay? You haven't been paying attention in class, you barely volunteer answers, and have lower grades on your work. I know this can't be about the bullying, since you did stellar even with them bothering you." In a lower voice, he asked, "is something happening at home that's affecting your work?" He blinked at her, waiting for a response. He was not expecting the burst of laughter that left her lips.
She couldn't see what he was worried about. She had grander things to worry about than some stupid human test. She was a witch after all, one of the best and destined to be even greater, as Bellatrix told her on repeat.
"Why do you call me star?" Hermione had pondered one evening as she and Bellatrix poured over potions once more. The training was split up in several groups. Two hours for potion making. Two for the history of witches and wizards. Two for wand work and two for anything else they might need to cover.
"Because you are my star. My star pupil. And you will be the brightest witch of her age. Of that I am certain."
Hermione was used to hearing praise from her teachers, but it didn't matter like it mattered to hear it from Bellatrix's mouth. Because the older witch was already so accomplished and skilled and Hermione wanted to be like her.
"Will I be like you?" she asked as she felt more confidence in herself. And in her skills.
"No. You will be even better than me, my star," Bellatrix said softly, stroking a finger down Hermione's cheek, making the girl's face turn a slight shade of pink.
"Are you okay, Hermione?" her teacher in the present asked in consternation at her response.
"I'm fine. Honestly better than I have been in a while," she replied with and he did not look convinced at all. But she did not wait longer to talk to him. She hurried off to her lunch break. She didn't have to look far for the source of her bullies distraction towards her.
It was a new girl. One that Hermione hadn't seen before. She had to have just moved here. She was sniffling and picking up her books from the floor. She looked shoved around, a bruise around her eye and blood dried on her nose, mixing in with the salty tears streaming down her face. Her hair which had been done up in two plaited braids down the side were a mess, one looking like it had been used to yank on her head and twist it. Her once clean clothes were soiled with marks, one perfect shoe imprint on her stomach where she had no doubt been stepped on purposefully.
And her books had pages ripped out of them and were dirty and wet.
Hermione felt anger surge up in her veins. She was used to the bullies picking on her. It was practically normal for them to do so. But she wouldn't allow this. Not now. Not when she had power. Power to do something.
She helped the girl up, giving her a tissue.
"You don't need to do this," the girl sniffed.
"I do," Hermione insisted as other students passed them by, sneering and jeering.
"Look, it's loser one helping loser two."
"They deserve each other. I bet they both like fucking dogs too," spat a boy. The red haired girl flinched at this abuse but Hermione could barely bother to listen to it. "Let's go to the bathroom to fix you up. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way," she said, extending her hand and helping the new girl up to her feet.
They went to the bathroom, the girl shaking the whole time. She looked a mess which Hermione no doubt had probably seemed like at so many points in her life too. But no longer. She wasn't going to let these bullies be an issue. She was going to protect this girl. She had promised she would use her powers to defend the weak from the strong.
"My name is Ginny," the girl said as she blew her nose on some tissues Hermione had given her. "I'm new here. I just moved here a week ago from England."
"Not a great first week then, I gather."
Ginny nodded her head tearfully. "Horrid. They keep making fun of my accent and of my hair color, calling me a tampon and stuff."
"It's going to be okay. I'll help you out. They just need a bit of talking to," Hermione said, putting her hand on Ginny's shoulder. This was Hermione's chance to work on making this school better. To ace her final test and impress her mentor. And she wanted to impress her so badly. Bellatrix may call Hermione 'my star' but to her, the dark haired woman was Hermione's 'star' because her name was literally a star constellation and also because she was so brilliant and bright, even when dressed in black all the time. She took Hermione's breath away at too many moments.
Like when she was talking, her voice so captivating and magical to listen to. Or when she smiled. God, it had only happened once so far, but when she did, it made Hermione's whole heart melt and want to do anything to make Bellatrix smile like that for her. But the older witch had only done it when petting one of her familiars, a cat named Invisus, which meant unseen for truly he blended in with the whole surrounding of the house, even with Bellatrix. His fur was so dark and black and even were his eyes. Hermione could barely pick him out among the day light.
And then, when Bellatrix was twirling her wand around and invoking magic spells, showing off her combat skills on some participants she had acquired for this, she was in her purest form. A wild grin on her face, maniac energy on her face, and her body so lithe and supple like a panther going in for the kill.
She barely broke a sweat and Hermione wanted to be like her. Wanted to make her proud of her. But she still had a long ways to go.
"I don't think bullies can be reasoned with," Ginny sniffed.
Hermione flashed her a smile. "Oh, you'd be surprised," she said calmly and confidently. The only question about it would be should she use potions or her wand? Just in case she'd stop taking the restraining potion. She had taken it over three months time now- time had really flown with all the fun she had learning how to be a witch- and she figured it was time to stop taking it. She could control her magic now.
Naturally, things did not go to plan. Only because there had been a weak point in the plan and it had been Ginny. When Hermione came to school the next day, she found the trio of bullies, holding a hurt Ginny in their hands, and waiting for Hermione on the stoop. The few students that were around scurried away, not wanting to be a part of this.
"Well, well, we heard you were going to do something to us," Blaise said nastily and Hermione's eyes cut to Ginny who was whimpering and sniffing dreadfully.
"I'm sorry," she admitted. "They beat it out of me."
Hermione nodded her head. "It's okay, Ginny," Hermione said. She had a feeling this would happen. So she was prepared. Her wand was warm pressed against her forearm up in her sleeve. She didn't waste a second on talking more to her bullies. She made a hand motion, allowing a trickle of magic to come forth as she uttered under her breath the incantation for the slug jinx on Pansy.
They looked at her like she was crazy for doing this, but a second later Pansy's face had turned green and she burped loudly, a slug slipping forth from her fat lips.
This was a temporary jinx that would go away after an hour. But it was definitely not a pleasant one.
"Pansy, ew, what the fuck?" Daphne shrieked, lifting up her leg when the slug landed next to it. But Pansy could not speak, burping up another slug and another in quick succession.
"Oh fuck, what's happening?" Blaise roared out. "We've got to take her to the principal!" He let go of Ginny, pushing her roughly to the ground as he let Pansy lean on his shoulder. Hurriedly he hobbled over with her to the school, Daphne following less enthusiastically behind them, careful not to step on the trail of snails that Pansy was leaving. Hermione kept her face carefully neutral as she watched them walk off, while Ginny's face was one of shock.
Ginny looked wide eyed at Hermione who was struggling hard not to grin widely. She shouldn't feel good about this but she did.
"What happened? Was she- was she throwing up slugs?"
"She should be careful what she eats next time," Hermione shrugged, eyes callous. "Lucky break for us." And then she was grabbing Ginny by the arm and tugging her away.
"Report," was the snapped command as soon as the younger witch strode in. "How is she progressing?"
"Slowly. Very slowly." She sat down in the seat, crossing one leg over the other. Back straight. Eyes challenging.
The older woman snorted. "You would think with all that magic inside her, she'd be corrupted more easily. After all, power corrupts. No matter how good a witch wants to be, she can only be good if she possess little of her wiccan abilities. Have more than that and evil naturally takes root."
"Magic corrupts and will corrupt. We just need to push more. She already feels strongly about protecting me. She thinks I am a damsel in distress."
"And you must keep it that way." She took a sip of her scalding hot tea. "Navigate the world of human teens and make it happen that she is pushed and pushed to the edge. But make it natural."
"I'll need more healing potions if I am to go as deep as you claim to want me to."
"They're already waiting for you for your way out."
"Good." Standing up, smoothing out her skirt, crooked grin on her face. "When she cracks it will be so sweet."
"The sweeter the fruit, the better to get past it's bitter shell. But, crack it too late and all the mush on the inside will be rot. Crack it too early and it won't be ready," she answered as she bit down on the Blood orange on her plate that was next to her tea.
"Hmm." And then the other woman left, closing the door behind her on a woman wearing black shades in a room already obscured in darkness that hid most of her features and visage.
As Hermione sat at her desk, moving aside a stack of her newly assigned reading from Bellatrix, a small book slid out from the massive pages. It looked like a notebook and the cover was brown leather, the inside filled with scribbles of words and phrases.
"What's this?" Hermione asked, wondering what this could be. It looked like it had been left accidentally. Should she return it?
But her curiosity for more wiccan knowledge made her not want to. Not right away. She flipped through the yellowed pages. These looked like spells. But spells for what? There was no description for them. Not much except for one or two sentences saying to use this on an enemy, or on stubborn pots, or on animals that were vicious.
One way to test it out flooded into her head. She could use it on an animal. So, gathering her wand, and her book, she left to visit the small woods that could be found in the park. She walked there, trying to enjoy the last dredges of sunlight as winter slowly began to pull it's claim on this land.
The park was mainly empty and she went into the bushes and trees, looking for some of animal to try this spell on.
What she found was a small rat, scourging for food. Carefully, so as not to disturb it, she cast the spell quietly and quickly. The spell that was meant for enemies. She instantly regretted it, mouth dropping open in horror.
It's guts were lying out, fur stripped. It looked like had been mauled by some monster. Hermione turned around, thinking she might be sick with this. What kind of a spell was this? It had been indicated to be used on an enemy. Who would do this to someone they hated?
But she found her stomach did not roll, nor did anything come up her mouth. She was...calm in the face of it. Odd. She felt like she would have had a bigger reaction to it all.
Still, she didn't want to look at the sad state of the creature. So she, without looking, picked up some leaves and placed them on it.
Maybe she should return that book. Whenever she had her own ideas involving magic- like not taking the potion before she got her wand- bad things happened.
Yes, she didn't want to keep this book around any longer.
Yet somehow, as the week passed on by, she found herself unable to give it back to Bellatrix.