The Mysterious Department
Chapter Six: What Ever Happened to Tom Riddle?
Wasn't Luna their researcher? Hermione grumbled to herself as she blinked her dry eyes. Currently she was parked in a comfy armchair in the department's personal library. It was an enormous thing, so big that she had to use a spell in order to bring forth the books she needed. Normally she wouldn't complain about research, but that was Luna's area of expertise in regards to magical objects and curses and things, and not Hermione's. Still, Bellatrix had ordered Hermione to do it, in a way testing her mettle.
Would the woman be never pleased with Hermione? The brunette understood that Bellatrix was different ever since her partner's death but she didn't have to take it out on her. She was just here, doing her job. She didn't ask to have magic.
She sighed as she flipped another worn page and tried to make sense of the words blurring on the page. Sighing again, she slammed the book shut, figuring she would not be getting anywhere tonight. She packed up her stuff and headed for the fireplace, deciding she might as well go home and get some sleep and resume her research tomorrow. She had stayed behind late in the office. It was past five and everyone had gone home, except for Luna who liked to mill around here and milk the tree of knowledge wherever that was and for whatever reason.
Hermione walked down the corridor of doors, wondering what was behind them all. No one had explained to her what they held and she felt that familiar twinge of curiosity eating away at her. In particular she was intrigued by the door with smoke curling up from underneath it. It constantly did that and she wanted to know why.
Looking around to make sure no one was looking- she shouldn't worry, she was an employee here surely she had a right to look inside- she pressed her hand to the knob and found it swung open right away. The room was glowing with an inner misty white. Smoke curled on the floor and inside it was ten degrees colder.
Shelves lined the walls, full of jars with gray liquid inside, and in the middle was a basin, jiggling with gray liquid.
Hermione came closer to it. She could hear whispering coming from it. But why? And how? She got closer to it, reaching down with her face. She could even make out images in the murky liquid. But before she could make them out, they changed, shifting dramatically. She squinted her eyes, trying to get ever closer when she tipped too far and went face forward.
She gasped loudly as a cool sensation fell over her face. She was no longer in the room, but in the middle of something else. And that something else was a cave, lit with red angry fire and with lava consuming the floor.
Hot wind stirred around her and she looked over her body, finding it a ghostly outline while everything around her seemed solid. "What the hell is going on? She cried out and spotted a familiar face close by. It was Bellatrix, looking haggard and hurt. She was bleeding from her shoulder, and one arm hung limply from her side. Her pants were ripped at the knee and a huge claw mark ran down her face. What had happened to her? Who had hurt her like this?
"Bellatrix, what is going on?" Hermione called out but the woman walked right through her, her eyes elsewhere.
Was...was this a vision of something? What was going on? She turned to follow Bellatrix's troubled journey. The dark haired witch was panting hard and looking for someone. "Tom. Tom!" she hollered out loud. "Tom where are you?"
"Over here!" came a strained cry and she rushed over to him, nearly twisting her ankle on some rocks. He was buried under a rock, face grimacing in pain and sweating from it. It had landed on his leg, the biggest rock, and had no doubt crushed it.
This was the first time Hermione was seeing this elusive Tom. And under all the grime, he was a handsome man. With high brows, a strong chin, and curly brown with hints of red hair that was shorn short and to the skin except for the top.
With her wand Bellatrix picked up the debris from him and he sighed in relief. His leg was broken without a doubt and with another wave of her wand she was able to call a splint to put around it.
"We need to get out of here," she said, helping him up with her one good arm. He placed some of his weight around her good shoulder, face white with pain.
"You don't have to tell me twice."
"You're not leaving anywhere," a sibilant voice hissed, the very tone of it sending tremors of fear down their backs and Hermione's even as she knew whatever this was must be in the past if Tom was still alive. It's voice rumbled through the cave, rumbled through their very being, it's insidious voice lodging inside them and taking root there.
"Apophis," Tom paled even more and then Hermione saw it, a massive snake rising from the lava. Molten rock slid down it's gleaming scales which were dark black with a criss cross of red going up and down them. It's eyes shone with malicious intent and a long forked tongue slithered from between it's lips. Staring at it was enough to bring Hermione to a near panic attack; her knees shaking and breath shallowing. She could only imagine what they truly felt, having come face to face with this being in reality.
"You foolish mortals will not be able to stop me. And you will perish in your arrogance in thinking you can." With that it dove right at them, this thirty foot monster, it's jaws open wide and fangs gleaming with poison. Hermione yelped even though she knew it couldn't hurt her.
Her heart lept in terror as the two were stuck, unable to move out of the way, frozen in their terror of it. Tom was the first to tear himself awake and lept in front of Bellatrix, using his body to shield her from the fangs. They sunk in, rupturing bone and bringing forth blood.
"No!' Bellatrix hollered out as he gasped in pain. The snake retreated, shaking it's head in distaste and sliding back into the lava, like Tom had somehow hurt it. The man's body crumpled to the ground, twitching and him foaming at the mouth as the poison worked it's curse. It spread lightning fast, black lines covering his body and turning his skin blue.
"Tom," Bellatrix murmured, sinking to her knees. "Tom, no." So much horror and pain conveyed in her voice. She cradled his limp body, his eyes having rolled into the back of his head. There were no last goodbyes. No time for even a last glance. He was gone already, his body growing cold.
With the disappearance of the snake, the red light went out and the lava quickly cooled, throwing Bellatrix into a rapidly darkening cave as tears streamed down her face. And in the dark, she sobbed over his fallen body.
Hermione was launched from the memory, tears having streamed down her own face. How horrible. How utterly gut wrenching. She stumbled from the basin, wiping her tears as she went. Now she knew why Apophis had been defeated. It was because Tom had given his life for Bellatrix's. And it was why Bellatrix wanted revenge on the snake. Wanted it destroyed.
Because it was what had killed her partner.
Hermione gathered her satchel from where it had fallen and rushed out of the room, running right into Luna who had been standing outside silently. "I see you've discovered the room with pensive." It was hard to tell if she was upset by this. Her voice was neutral.
"The what?" Hermione tried to act like she hadn't just seen something traumatic.
"It's a method for witches and wizards to store memories. Memories they cherish, or memories they don't want to keep too close."
"So it was all real. Everything that happened there?"
Luna nodded her head. "He died to protect her, and if Bellatrix is anything, than she is honor bound as it is the way of purebloods and nobles. And she will do whatever it takes to avenge him. Or to bring him back to life."
"You can't bring a dead person back," Hermione countered.
Luna shook her head, serious. "You can. It's been done before, but with less than favorable results. Bellatrix is just searching for a proper way to do it, and her venture into such dark arts will not be good on her. Dark arts can make one go crazy, if not worse. Please," at this she stepped closer to Hermione. "Watch out for her. Don't let her go down such a disastrous path. Tom was her best friend and his death hurt her a lot but she needs to learn to let go."
Hermione nodded her head though she knew not how she would keep Bellatrix safe. "I'll do my best."
"Thank you." And then Luna's dreamy smile was back in place.
It turned out Ron was in both of Hermione's remedial classes. And after they were done, they decided to go to Hogsmeade one late evening. "You have got to see the place. I only went there a handful of times in my third year but it is amazing. It's a quaint little magical town," Ron reminisced.
And it indeed was. Hermione liked the whole feel of it. Something about it made her feel like it was a festive Christmas like place, despite the fact it was only May as of right now. They went and got butterbeers, tried some tea in a fancy cafe there where confetti would fall from the sky, and they even met up with his younger sister Ginny, who it turned out was a sixth year at Hogwarts. Thanks to the family's now more stable finances, Ginny had the option of finishing school where her brothers could not.
"Nice to meet you," Hermione shook the hand of the younger girl. She had two pigtails braided down the sides of her face, a face filled with freckles. And her hair was the same color as Ron's. "I'm Hermione."
"Yes, I know who you are. Brother always talks about you at home. We can't get him to shut up."
"Hey! That's not true!" Ron blustered, turning a red shade.
Ginny grinned, enjoying embarrassing her brother. "So is."
"Stop lying!"
"I'm not. Why, are you ashamed or something?"
Hermione laughed softly as she watched them bicker. "I never got to annoy my siblings. I was an only child. Sometimes I wished I had a sibling to fight with."
"You're crazy," Ginny pronounced. "I wish I was the only one sometimes. There were so many of us that we always had to share everything."
"Don't act like a brat. You were an only girl so everything you got was brand new. Since I was the last of the sons, I got everything sixth hand. I didn't get anything new and by the time I got some robes they had holes and singes from all of what they'd been through. And even my wand isn't mine. It was Bill's."
"Maybe that's why it's hard for you to cast spells?" Hermione suggested gently. "I know that every wand needs to be tailored. It's how they make the best fit."
He shook his head. "It all worked for them, so I don't know why it won't work for me."
"Hermione's right. Change your wand and stop holding onto it out of stupid sentiment," Ginny said.
"Easy for you to say, when you got a whole new wand!"
"Stop being so bitter about everything." They fell into more bickering before they drew to the shop they were meant to go to.
"Quidditch?" Hermione questioned. "What is that?"
Ginny looked at her oddly. "You don't know what that is?"
"She grew up muggle, remember?" Ron prompted.
"Right. Well, it's a sport to us. We fly on brooms and try to score different balls into different goal posts."
"Flying on brooms?" That sounded dangerous. Ginny launched into a diatribe on the sport while they walked through the store, her going into details and making Hermione confused at some parts by the complex rules of the sport. "Why brooms? Why not use your feet?"
"Do you even know how to fly on a broom?" Ginny questioned and Hermione felt a bit flustered when she answered with a "no."
"Merlin, you really missed out on a lot. You need to learn. It's a major way of transport for us as well. And its our huge cultural trademark."
The thought of going that high up made Hermione queasy. "I think I'll stay with flooing for now."
"Nonsense. You're not a proper witch without it. I'll teach you if you want," Ginny offered eagerly, green eyes sparkling with the idea of doing so.
"You should take the offer," Ron suggested. "Ginny's a Qudditch player for her school- a beater for Gryffindor actually- and she's quite amazing at it. Hasn't fallen off her broom once. She actually taught me how to fly," he chuckled.
"Er," Hermione had a protest ready on the tip of her tongue. Ginny cut her off animatedly.
"And I need to educate you more on the sport as well. It's a big part of wizarding culture."
"We should take her to a game," Ron said. And the rest of the stay in the store was spent planning a trip to a game with Hermione, while Ginny shopped for new gloves for her team sport.
"I need a broom," Hermione told Dora one day while they were at the mansion. Dora had been out pruning some bushes with magic when the brunette detective approached her.
"What for?" she asked, wiping the sweat off of her brow with her thick gloves.
"I was informed, that I need to know how to fly because I am not a true witch otherwise," she stated flatly.
"You don't need to learn how to fly, but you certainly can if you want to. I won't stop you." Dora got up, dusting the dirt from her knees. "I know just the place for you to get a broom. But they don't come cheap, I'll warn you."
"Whose teaching you?" Dora asked once she had changed into some robes and they had flooed away.
"I met this man in my night class and his sister is currently going to Hogwarts and she offered to show me how to fly."
"That was kind of her."
"She's a Quidditch player and she's intent on converting me into liking the sport." Hermione was not amused at the idea.
"I actually don't favor the sport too much. It's so complicated for no reason," Dora admitted. "Though I do marvel at their ability to stay on a broom and brave falling from such heights."
"Do you know how to fly a broom?" Hermione pointedly ignored the mention of falling from brooms as it made her palms sweaty.
"Of course. I've been doing it since I was six. They put these little training wheels on the broom when you're younger. It makes it so the broom is stable. And they use a sticking charm to make sure your bum stays put even if the broom turns upside down. Bellatrix has been flying brooms since before she could walk."
"Really?" Hermione arched a brow because the woman dressed so muggle that it was hard to think of her as a witch sometimes.
"Yes. She was wild as a child. And she used to get into so much trouble. But she was the brightest witch of her age and was offered so many jobs when she finished schooling."
"So then how did she end up in the department?"
"As a favor to someone. I don't know the full story, but she's been here since the beginning and she's seen some shite. Almost everyone who used to work died or left, or ended up going crazy. But not her. She's tough as nails."
Hermione gulped. That did not sound good. "Is she cursed or something?" she weakly joked.
Dora smiled but it wasn't a comfortable one. "A lot of people say that, but honestly, it's just the casualties of the job. When you work in such a field, what can you expect."
"Then why do you want to work here if you know the dangers?" Hermione was thinking about if it wasn't too late to transfer out and find a job elsewhere.
"I'm never on the field so I won't get hurt. And beside, I like working for the government. I like helping save the world in whatever way I can. And Luna, she's here because she got selected to be. She doesn't think like the rest of us so that's why she's so damn good at figuring out where the artifacts will be next. It's like she's got a sixth sense for tracking them down. She doesn't even need that globe she made, but she made it for us in case an artifact pops up when she's not around.
"But enough depressing talk," Dora waved the words away with her hand and pulled open the door to the broom shop. "We've got some shopping to do."
Inside there were brooms on stands, all polished wood and straight bristles. Fact cards were floating next to them, boasting certain attributes they had, none of which held any real value to Hermione because she had not the slightest clue about brooms.
"I think we should get you a basic broom. Something not too expensive in case you break it." Dora looked around, rubbing her chin in thought. "I think the Comet Two Sixty would be good for you," she supplied. "It's not too fast- it goes about 0-60 in thirty seconds."
"That's...pretty fast," Hermione gulped. In a car that was nothing. But on a broom? Where she could fall at any given moment?
"It's decent. The fastest broom is the Firebolt. It goes 0-150 in ten seconds flat!"
"That sounds like a nightmare."
"-It's fun!"
Dora and Hermione spoke at the same time and then looked at each other because of how opposite the ends of their statement were. Hermione offered a sheepish smile while Dora chuckled at the brunette's apparent distaste for flying.
Hermione got the Comet, paid for it, and they left the store, her feeling a bit ridiculous to be carrying a broom around on her shoulder. She didn't even know how to activate it. Did she just sit on it? Or did she have to use a spell to make it work?
She figured Ginny would tell her.
When evening came, Hermione decided she would do some snooping around. Luna had asked her to check up on Bellatrix and Hermione would. So as discreetly as possible, she joined Bellatrix in the library of the manor. She sat down with a book, furtively looking at the dark haired woman over the top of a book she had picked out.
Bellatrix was deeply absorbed in a book with no cover, which made it hard for Hermione to determine if it was a dark arts book. Though she did find herself taking in the woman's appearance instead. She was wearing a set of black robes, tailored to fit her perfectly. And her hair had been let loose from it's usual high ponytail, her dark locks framing her sharp features. She was beautiful, Hermione deduced. She had clearly aristocratic features but they were all doused in darkness. All held an edge of danger to them. Her eyes may be hooded and her pale skin stretched over sharp bones, but behind it lay hidden an almost predatory nature. Like she was always alert, on guard, and ready to go on the defensive. Hermione wondered if that was a product of Bellatrix working in this department for so long and having to endure so much when no one else could.
Hermione was intrigued in learning more. About what made Bellatrix this way. About what adventures she had gone through. Hermione knew she could learn a lot from her. Eventually, the older woman picked up on Hermione's staring. "Do I seem fascinating to you?"
This startled Hermione, who had gone so deep in her thoughts that she was outright blatantly staring at the dark haired witch. "Excuse me?"
"I ask because you keep staring at me," the woman responded, without picking up her eyes. She flipped a page.
"No..I, um, I'm just thinking about the books behind your head. I think I might want to read them," she stammered a reply.
"Then go ahead, why don't you grab one instead of staring?" she said, inviting Hermione. It was almost as if she could tell Hermione's answer was a crock of shite.
"You're in the way. I wouldn't want to bother you."
"You already have," was the snappy response and Hermione sighed and got up. Perhaps getting closer would be a good idea. This way she could peer down to see what the woman was reading. She was a bit fearful, though, for getting close to the woman made her nervous. She was intimidating, and...something else. There was something else about her that made Hermione feel like butterflies were exploding in her stomach and not in the good way.
She inched over to the chair Bellatrix was sitting in, that was in front of the shelves and pretended to concentrate on which book she wanted, meanwhile she let her eyes drift down to what Bellatrix was reading. The words looked strange, perhaps in another language, but Hermione couldn't determine properly because Bellatrix shut the book with a snap, making Hermione jump.
"Granger," she scolded like one would a child who got their hand stuck in the cookie jar, and frowned up at the brunette. "Why do you keep staring at me. It is downright rude."
"I'm not-"
Bellatrix got up with a haughty swish of her robes. "You are. Did Luna put you up to this?" she peered in closer, making Hermione falter and take a step back.
"She didn't-"
"She did," is Bellatrix's confident answer. "Why won't you two stay out of my business?" she threw her hands up in annoyance.
Hermione gave up the pretense. "Because we're worried. About-"
"I don't want to hear it," Bellatrix cut in before his name could be said. She stormed off. To keep her here, to keep the conversation going, Hermione blurted out, "I saw it. Saw how he died. In your...pensieve."
This paused Bellatrix. Paused her with anger. She swirled on her heel, her hair flying with her dramatic turn of fury. "Who gave you the bloody right to look into my memories!" she screeched high pitched, storming her way over to Hermione who backed up against the shelves, trapped with no where to go. Bellatrix's finger jabbed into Hermione's collarbone on each word. "Who gave you the right to violate my memories?"
"N-no one-"
"Then bloody stay away from there!" Bellatrix growled out. "Those are private and I don't need you and your big nose to intrude upon them." With that, she stormed off again, slamming the door shut on the way out.
Hermione's heart raced in her chest and she let out a trembling sigh.
She had inadvertently only pissed off Bellatrix more. She needed to apologize to the woman. To explain to her she hadn't intentionally seen her memories. "Maybe put your memories somewhere where I can't fall into them," she mumbled gloomily into the empty space, rubbing her sore collarbone.
Hermione waited two hours before she decided to go searching for Bellatrix. She figured that was enough time for one to get over their anger. She realized it was a bit late-about 11 at night, but hopefully the woman wasn't asleep yet.
But as Hermione took to searching the house, she realized that it was much bigger than anticipated and that she had no clue where the woman's private chambers were. "Ginger," she barked out, hoping to summon the house elf.
"Ginger is needed?" the house elf asked, popping up in back of Hermione and scaring her. She wondered when she would get used to such rapid appearances.
"Yes, Ginger. I need to find Bellatrix's room."
"Mistress Black does not like guests in her room."
"I'm not going to stay there. I just need to apologize to her for something. I promise it'll be quick," Hermione swore.
"Mistress doesn't-" Ginger began to default to denial again.
"Just for a second. Please. I don't want to have her mad at me. I'm worried for her. And for her health. I heard she hasn't been doing well."
"Mistress has been ill at ease since He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named's death," Ginger whispered, rubbing her knobbly hands together fretfully.
Tom, Hermione guessed. It seemed Bellatrix didn't want to hear his name at all. "Then you can see I care for her and want to make sure she is fine. She needs a friend now more than ever. Surely you would want your mistress to be well?" Hermione couldn't believe she was trying to manipulate a house elf right now, but she needed to find Bellatrix.
Ginger looked indecisive before giving in.
"Ginger will take you, but if anyone asks, it was not Ginger who did." The elf lead the way. They went up the stairs, down three twisted halls and up another pair of stairs. The manor up here looked largely neglected. So many empty rooms, so many halls. What could they all be needed for?
Ginger stopped in front of an ornate door. This was Bellatrix's bedroom. "Thank you Ginger," Hermione thanked and the elf disappeared in a snap.
Hermione got closer and knocked on the door, rehearsing the words she would say. But her knocks went unanswered as she heard muffled screaming coming from behind the door. That couldn't be good. Hermione's eyes widened in fear and she pushed the door open.
Bellatrix was on her bed, the covers tossed around her, twisted up as her hands ripping into the sheets.
The woman was having a nightmare. A terrible one given her thrashing state.
"No," she moaned as she twisted and turned. "No. Tom!"
Hermione rushed to her side, shaking her to wake her up. "Bellatrix, wake up. Wake up!" she shouted and the woman did, sitting up so fast she almost hit Hermione in the mouth with her head.
She gasped heavily, looking around her as if she was afraid she was still in the nightmare world.
"What are you doing here?" she growled out when her eyes finally focused on the brunette, her chest heaving and Hermione's eyes were drawn to it to notice that she was wearing a teddy with a very low scoop neck. Hermione blushed and averted her eyes. "I heard screaming and I came here."
"Well you shouldn't be here. You don't have permission to be in this part of the manor." Bellatrix got up, angry, and went to her cabinet immediately to pour herself a drink.
"I'm just worried about you. As your partner. If you have any issues you can talk to me about them-"
"I don't want to. And I most certainly don't need you meddling in my affairs," Bellatrix growled out, setting down the empty glass with an angry thunk, back still rudely turned from Hermione.
Hermione could tell she was dismissed. She left the room, having not discovered anything of use or even able to apologize. If Bellatrix was dabbling in the dark arts than she couldn't tell. All she knew was the woman was probably suffering from survivor's guilt and she wouldn't let Hermione do anything to help her with it. In fact, Hermione trying to be nice had only seemed to piss her off even more.
Would she and Bellatrix ever get along? She wondered as she left back to her room.
Only time would tell.
A/N: Well, this is the end of the first Arc, dubbed accordingly, the Beginning of The Mystery. The second arc, dubbed The Mystery Continues, will come out in two weeks time and will feature more cases and Bellatrix and Hermione finally working on missions together.
