The Mysterious Department
Arc Two: The Mystery Continues
Chapter Seven: Ball of Purebloods
A/N: Here is arc two; I hope you enjoy and like always, leave me some thoughts.
It was two months later and Hermione had grown somewhat accustomed to the new and strange world around her. There were still more things to learn and to understand and discover, but for now she was more confident with what she dealt with. She practiced with her wand daily. Went on walks with Dora to see new places and try new foods. She continued taking her classes with Ron and taking flying lessons with Ginny, and also in working on her job.
There hadn't been another case of magical artifacts gone wrong for quite some time, so Hermione did not have a chance to test her new skills. All she did was read files and do research on the Apophis case. And focus on trying to breach the tough exterior of her partner.
Bellatrix was as hard to get along with as ever. She paid little to no mind to Hermione, though they did talk more because Bellatrix begrudgingly had to get used to Hermione being in the department and the two of them being partners. The dark haired witch used to be intimidating to Hermione but she had gotten over it and now was in admiration of her. Admiration of her looks, and her work.
She wasn't supposed to, but she had mined Luna on information about Bellatrix. In order to take care of her partner better Hermione had to know her better and Bellatrix certainly wasn't making things easy by opening up to Hermione's casual questions. She was still distrustful that Hermione was trying to find her doing dark arts, which Hermione was- having failed dreadfully at the whole thing- and so Bellatrix did not impart much about herself. Luna gave Hermione access to the older witch's files and though Hermione felt like she was doing something shady and that qualified as a breach of trust, she had no choice. Luna was concerned over Bellatrix and her all consuming focus on revenge for Tom. That was not a healthy obsession and Hermione wanted to put a stop to it.
So Hermione looked up the files, a large chunk of which were missing but when she asked about it, Luna only shrugged and said the ministry must have taken them and that nothing could be done now.
Bellatrix had attended Hogwarts as a student, classified into the Slytherin house. She was often described as smart and skilled but all together troublesome and liking a good riot at the expanse of others. She had graduated with top marks, before disappearing off the map of society for a good bit. This was were the notes were missing. Nothing of her young adult life was visible, though Hermione knew from Dora that Bellatrix had been offered many jobs at this point, but she only seemed to show up once more about ten years ago when it came time to work for the Department of Mysteries.
She had over a hundred closed cases and had outlived anyone on her team. She was a master spell caster, known to fire basic spells at speeds of .5 seconds. She was trained extensively under a mysterious man's tutelage, and she had stopped the world from ending on three different occasions. And yet, no one in public knew she was a hero. Though she was awarded by the ministry in secret.
She had even invented new spell types and Hermione was impressed. This was a woman who had done much to benefit society and felt no need to be honored for it. But there was something concerning in the notes.
Kingsley had left a personal note on his stationary there, detailing how he was having Bellatrix monitored by others in case the curse of the department struck again.
Hermione wondered what this meant. Dora had laughingly mentioned it but could it be a real thing? So Hermione approached Luna on it while the blonde was rocking a voodoo doll to sleep in her hands. She had it swaddled in a blanket and was singing something in creole to it.
Hermione waited until the woman had lulled it to sleep. Something like this might have been uncommon and strange to Hermione before but now it was only the norm. "Did it wake again?" Hermione asked in a whisper, careful not to waken it again. Luna set it down on it's spot on the shelf before going over to Hermione.
"It's been waking up a lot recently," Luna said, taking off the purple magical gloves she had used to protect herself. "I don't know why yet, but it might have to do with it's creator. Sometimes objects can sense their distress and it won't let them rest."
"What can we do about it?"
"Nothing for now. I'll just tell Steve to be mindful of it."
Hermione had yet to see the cataloging vampire since starting work here. But on the other hand she wasn't sure if she wanted to. It made her neck prickle in discomfort.
"Luna, I read Bellatrix's files and I am confused. What does the curse of the department mean?"
"Oh, that. Not many know of it. Just Kingsley and I. And now you. You see, working in the department is a very special thing. Though it will be a bit hard to explain, so do listen with your heart and soul as well as your mind," Luna said airily as they began walking through the warehouse.
Hermione followed.
"The department is in itself a magical thing." Luna gestured with her hands expansively. "Because of being around so many magical devices they radiate a sort of magic from them. A malignant magic. And those carry malignant things with them. It does not affect each person the same way."
"So, a sort of radiation? That mutates people?" Hermione questioned, skin prickling with unease.
"Yes, in a way. But it can give both good and bad effects. In fact, each person who's ever worked here has developed a new and random ability over the course of the years, granted they stay long enough. But more often before they can even get it, they end up losing their mind or falling ill or dying. The new ability is almost like a gift to those who survive."
This did not at all sound promising. Hermione did not want to lose her mind; it was her greatest asset. Even if the ability to gain a superhuman power was intriguing. She doubted very much that she wanted to stay long enough to receive it.
"And Kingsley thinks Bellatrix is going to fall to that curse?"
"Yes. She's been here for so long and she hasn't gotten it. He's worried it'll strike her soon. And he's even more worried that it might be the obsession on revenge that is what is happening to her."
"So we need to stop it, but how, if this is part of a curse we don't understand," Hermione pondered as they reached the exit.
Luna stopped here, looking over at Hermione oddly. "I never said I believed the revenge to be the curse. That is something else on it's own that needs to be stopped. Bellatrix was cursed long ago but Kingsley doesn't believe me." And then she pulled the door open.
Hermione sighed out heavily as she walked out. Great. Just more questions rather than answers on how she could help Bellatrix. "Wait, Luna. What was she cursed with!" Hermione asked as she hurried after the blonde, but Luna merely shrugged.
"That is not for me to impart."
And that was the end of that conversation.
"Hands steady. Hands steady!" Ginny cried out as Hermione wobbled on the broom. Two months of this and she was barely making any progress.
"Man, you move like a snail," Ginny chided as Hermione steadied her hands, allowing her broom to stabilize and stop tilting to the front.
"Well, excuse me for not liking heights," Hermione shot back. She was always snappish when on the broom.
"You're barely a foot above the ground," Ginny rolled her eyes as Hermione could literally extend her feet and touch the ground. "But it's not just that. You seem distracted today," she added more kindly, tone indicating she was open to listening to her friend's woes.
Surprisingly the two of them had struck up a fast relationship. Ginny was mature beyond her years; Hermione supposed it had to do with being poor and growing up with seven brothers.
She hesitated before she spoke, however, because this was top secret business, and plus, she didn't want to scar Ginny with fright. But perhaps Ginny could tell her something new that could be useful.
"Say, if your friend was cursed, what would you do to help them?" Hermione asked.
"I want you to practice elevating up to three feet and back down, without shaking your broom or tipping it," Ginny instructed before she rubbed her chin thinking. "If they're cursed, you need to de-curse them."
"Yes, but I don't know what they're even cursed with!" Hermione said, rising up slowly and steadily.
"Then how do you know they're cursed? Maybe they're just acting odd because of natural reasons," Ginny supplied, watching as Hermione rose.
"While it is true I do not have much to reference their current behavior to in regards to their past behavior, I have been informed by others that it will have or has happened already. Simply put, it's best described as a location curse."
"Those are horrid, but easily remedied. For example, take a haunted house. Some are cursed to drive the occupant mad until they murder, but usually it goes away if the person leaves. Most of the time a reverse spell does not even need to be done."
"But they can't leave the place."
"Why not? Do they not think themselves cursed?"
Hermione shook her head. "It's just...they cannot leave the place. It's their job. And I'm sure they know of the curse but they don't care about it." Surely Bellatrix had had to have heard of it in the very least if she had been around for so long.
Ginny shrugged. "Then really, you've done all you can. Short of casting a memory spell and getting them out of there, you can't make them leave. Maybe that's the curse? That they can't leave?"
That raised a truly thoughtful point. What if Bellatrix's curse was to forever work for the department? Hermione would relay her findings to Luna later. Right now- "Alright Hermione, now go up to five feet and repeat the instructions."
Hermione gulped and did as asked.
When she got back later to Grimmore manor, she found it a flurry. There were buckets and mops and dust wipes cleaning the floors, shelves, ceilings and walls and anything else that could be cleaned. She found Ginger in the mess of it, directing the inanimate but animate objects with her magic.
"Ginger, what is going on here?" Hermione asked, lifting one foot than the other so a scrubber could cleanse the grime on the floor she had brought in.
"Mistress Black is having a ball. Mistress hates balls but her family insisted and it is tradition so she must do it!" Ginger shrilled. "And now Ginger worries if she will get everything done on time."
"Let me help then," Hermione offered, hating to see the creature so distressed. "I know some spells-"
"Ginger cannot. You are a guest here. Ginger will not let you do work!"
"Really it's alright-"
"Don't bother," a cool voice cut in. Hermione turned to see Bellatrix was there. She was clutching a mug of coffee in her hand and she looked relaxed. Sleeves done up, top three buttons undone and suspenders hanging from her hips. Even her hair was down and it was long, reaching to below her bra line. "House elves take great insult when you take their work away from them."
"But I only wish to help," Hermione explained as Bellatrix tipped her head, indicating Hermione to follow after her. So she did. They went into a room Ginger had yet not cleaned and sat down on the cushions there.
It was a small study, with only a desk, some chairs, and a curtained window between two book shelves. It looked well used, scratches on the wood, and ink stains on the carpet, and something told Hermione Bellatrix used it a lot.
"I haven't told you this, but unfortunately I am to host a ball here within the fortnight," Bellatrix started distastefully. "As per family tradition I need to do one." She rolled her eyes. "Which means you are invited to this as well."
A wizarding ball. Hermione had never been to one. It sounded fabulous. And an opportunity to learn something new.
She sat up higher in her seat. Bellatrix noted her energy with contempt. "Don't be excited. Balls are boring. All pomp and no substance. You need to be falsely sweet to everyone." Hermione surmised that did not bond well for Bellatrix's prickly demeanor. "And it's a pureblood ball. Which means you can't talk about your blood line. And never, mention your muggle roots. Just say you are a visiting witch, one of Dora's friends, and leave it at that."
Dora had warned Hermione about the prejudices, so she would be stupid as to ignore them, even more so coming from Bellatrix.
"And you must have a proper dress. Tell Dora to take you for a fitting and don't worry about the cost, I'll pay for it."
"I have my own money now, surely-"
Bellatrix waved it off, arrogantly. "I have more money than can even be counted. Don't worry about such a trifle." Than she got up and left.
Hermione did indeed ask Dora for help finding a new dress. The younger woman was excited for any chance to go out with Hermione and buy new things. "You're going to love the ball. There's so much food and drink and dance there. Not to mention the performances."
"Performances?" Hermione questioned.
"Yes. Lots of magic shows and dancers and musicians and even fire shows!" Dora explained with eagerness. "And there are even duels there. Each year there is a competition for prizes. Ten participants challenge Bella for money and for pride. And so far, no one has bested her title."
"That will certainly be a spectacle," Hermione said more to herself than to Dora. She knew how the dark haired detective loved her fights; she had no doubt it would be interesting to watch. And maybe Hermione could learn something herself so she could finally land a blow on Bellatrix. Training with her had only lent to a bruised ego and bruised skin.
"It will be. She never lets them off easily," Dora said jovially.
The time for the ball finally arrived and Hermione was nervous. Suddenly presented with a giant crowd of people who would judge her for her blood status sunk in and she smoothed her hands across her green satin dress. In her room she peered at herself in the mirror, examining herself for any imperfections. Her hair was in an updo and her makeup was light and not too over done. She looked classy. Yet comfortable.
"Hermione, are you ready?" Dora asked, knocking on the door.
"Yes, as ready as I will ever be," she replied, stepping out of the room.
Dora was wearing a dark blue dress that she didn't seem all too comfortable in. Dora didn't strike her as the dress type, more at ease in jeans and a dirtied smock. She had grown her hair out for this event, and it was long and brown. It was almost a bit odd seeing her look so normal.
"Remember, you're my half cousin from Sweden, one of the only three houses of purebloods there."
"Why Sweden? My name isn't Swedish enough."
"You were named after your Greek grandmother," Dora fibbed. "Now, come, we don't want to be late." She looped her arm through Hermione's and off they went, descending the stairs down. Dozens of finely dressed rich folk were already milling down in the grand hall which had floating candles and tables laden with food. In the middle on a raised dais was a band playing music on harps and strings.
Waiters walked around catering the event.
One man had even brought his own house elf. How rich could he be? She watched as the elf took his coat and vanished into whatever realm elves did when teleporting.
"This is nice." The grand hall had been dusty the last time Hermione had seen it. Ginger had done a good job. "Did Ginger set this all up?"
Dora nodded in the affirmative. "House elf's have great deals of magic even if they don't look it. But they only ever use their magic in service of their masters. And of their houses."
They began to mingle with the crowd for it was something needed or else they would come off as rude. Hermione merely followed along, smiling tightly as Dora introduced her and kissed the cheeks of people she knew. "This is Hermione, my half cousin from Sweden. She's visiting because I finally convinced her to come. She's quite an introvert, but I keep telling her she needs to get out more so that the purebloods can finally meet her."
"I just like books more than balls," she answered, keeping as much of her accent out of her voice as she could.
"I'd bet," a man chuckled, shooting her a lurid look and she realized too late how her statement could be misconstrued. She didn't decided to elaborate because that would only make it worse. So she flushed in silence.
They circled around but Hermione couldn't see Bellatrix anywhere yet. "Is she not coming?"
"Who?" Dora mumbled around a mouthful of food. She had shoved a small cake whole in.
"Bellatrix."
"She'll be coming soon. She likes to come as late as she can get away with it, if only not to have to deal with this just yet."
And that was true. The party was under way for about two hours by the time Bellatrix made her entrance. Hermione hadn't been expecting her to come dressed in a dress, even though she had seen her in one during their dice hunt. But this dress, unlike the other one, was simply extravagant. It was obsidian black with small sparkles in it that glimmered and shone under the candlelight. It had a trail that followed Bellatrix down the stairs, slipping behind her like ink. The dress had long sleeves and a high neck, sort of like a turtleneck that went up to under Bellatrix's jaw line. Her hair was done up, curls tight with two loose strands that hung around her face. Her lips were painted a red that matched her nails and her naturally hooded eyes were made more stygian with dark eye shadow that sparkled.
Hermione could not tear her eyes away. Bellatrix looked amazing. And so enchanting. Like the dress itself was magic, clinging to her so tightly that Hermione could see every last curve and dip on her body.
"Are you okay?" Dora asked, furrowed brows at Hermione's look.
That startled the brunette free. "Uh, yes. Just, um, these pot stickers are amazing," she fibbed, raising the food in her hand and giving a wavering smile. Dora looked like didn't quite believe her but didn't comment further on it.
"Let's go say hi then," Dora insisted and they walked over to find Bellatrix who was chatting with some blonde haired woman and man. "That's Bellatrix's youngest sister. She's...quite prickly." Dora whispered.
"More prickly than Bellatrix?"
"Prickly in a different manner. I hope you don't find out how."
They reached the two women and man and Dora plastered on a fake smile.
"Auntie Narcissa and Uncle Lucius!" Dora greeted and rushed forward to kiss her aunt on the cheek. "It is nice to see you."
"As it is nice to see you," Narcissa said, though Hermione detected a bit of unwelcome in her eyes. The woman looked cold and callous- like she had had the life leeched out from her until she was still and thin. She held herself upright, neck and back straight as a ruler. And her movements were stilted. Her face was dour, eyes cutting and sharp.
Her husband looked no better off, though he seemed less severe than her.
"And who is this?" Narcissa added, looking over Hermione with barely concealed distaste.
"This is Hermione, my half cousin from Sweden-"
"Don't be absurd, Nymphadora. You have no half cousins in Sweden. I know the family tree well." Narcissa cut in and with measured steps approached Hermione. Hermione felt like she was being approached by a snake, coiled tight and ready to strike any time.
"Cissa," Bellatrix warned from behind not that the other woman was listening.
"Who are you?" Narcissa asked. "You are most certainly not family."
"Like Dora said, I am Hermione Granger."
Bellatrix shook her head as if to say 'you idiot'.
"There has never been a house of Granger in the purebloood history. Ever. You are not pureblood and neither are you halfblood." Disgust over rode her features. She swiveled on her heel, glaring at Bellatrix like she had done some great wrong.
"She is a mudblood!" Narcissa shrilled out. Her voice was drawing unnecessary looks. Hermione felt self conscious.
Bellatrix grabbed her sister savagely by the upper arm to get her further away from peering eyes and ears, dragging her into a corner. "She is my partner. And you will damn well respect her as long as you are in my house, under my roof." She spat, eyes black with fury.
Narcissa's lips pulled back in disgust. "You keep partnering up with filth, Bella. First Tom and now this," she hissed venomously.
"You will not bring up his name ever again, is that clear to you?" Bellatrix spat, shaking her.
"At least he had some pure blood in him. She has none! And remove your mudblood loving hands from me at once!" she screeched out and Bellatrix did as asked, releasing her with so much force she stumbled back and had to steady herself. Lucius caught her. She wiped at her arm, where Bellatrix's nails had sunk into pale flesh and marked it red. She sniffed, turned up her chin, and taking her skirts in one hand, busied off. Her husband followed after her. Dora gave Hermione a concerned look before rushing after her family in hopes of doing damage control.
Many guests were still watching and Bellatrix glowered at them. "Mind your own business, lest you want to find yourselves removed from the guest list." They turned away at once, leaving Bellatrix and Hermione together. It would do no good. Hermione had a feeling Narcissa wasn't one to refrain from gossiping. Soon, a lot more people would know about her status here.
"Thank you," Hermione said, her unexpected words shaking Bellatrix momentarily from her anger.
"What for?" she grunted out.
"For calling me your partner. For sticking up for me." That meant more to Hermione than Bellatrix could possibly know. Hermione had only ever wanted to be a good partner. To be accepted by the older woman. And this confrontation had proved that Bellatrix cared for her a bit.
"I didn't do it for you," she spat out before spinning away on her heel, gone to do whatever it was she did when pissed. Probably set things on fire, Hermione thought wryly.
Oh well. Some progress had been made. Bellatrix cared for Hermione somewhat even if she wouldn't admit it. Hermione kept her smile small and went on to find Dora so that she wouldn't be alone during the event any longer.
The highlight of the event came when it was time for a dueling tournament. The garden out back had been magically outfitted to hold an arena. A flat ground of sand and stone with rocks and pillars standing upright or on their side for the terrain. While on the sides the audience sat in elevated stands of white stone. It made Hermione think of a smaller scale version of the Colosseum. She sat with Dora who was jittery with excitement. Bellatrix was standing next to them, in the row so she could more easily enter the field. They had front row seats courtesy of living in the manor.
Bellatrix was wearing a dueling jacket for nobles. A black top with ornate pure black fleurs de lis on a backdrop of velvet and lighter black silk. A chain hung from the top button across to her shoulder where a small cape was, heralding the family crest. One of a raven with spread wings, clutching arrows in it's claws. It signaled cleverness and war. Her sleeves were long and her gloves long, flaring up around her elbows. Her leggings were black as well and over them went black shoes that reached her knees.
Her hair was worn loose surprisingly and melted into the dark ensemble she wore.
Unlike the men who were her challengers, chests puffed out like proud peacocks and backs upright to be as tall as could be, she was almost lazily slouched over, a bored look on her haughty face.
"I do not feel much up for the dueling anymore," she confided in Dora who looked shocked to hear this as they both looked on at the competition on the other side of the constructed makeshift dueling arena.
"Why? You love this!"
"I always win. There is no real challenge and I have better things to do than spend time on these losers," she tapped her wand to her chin, thoughtful. "I may just make the games go by quickly so as to be done with them."
Before Dora could retort, Bellatrix was gone onto the field, and the crowd shook to attention. Hermione watched keenly, never having seen Bellatrix in competitive action.
The first opponent was wearing orange, and he had a blue sash running across with his family crest on it.
"Sir Mungus from the Westminister nobles," announced the announcer, his voice booming across the field.
His friends and family cheered for him as he approached Bellatrix in the middle of the field. Both their hands were behind their backs. "This fight will be for the title that currently an undefeated Bellatrix Black from the noble Black family holds. As well as for a cash reward of half a million galleons. Remember, the rules are, wandwork only. There will be no kicking, no punching and no biting. I'm looking at you, Bellatrix. And there are to be no illegal or dirty spells. No spells that can cause serious harm." Both duelists nodded their head though Bellatrix had a disgruntled face at being called out.
"Now, duelists, walk fifteen paces from each other." They did so, turning around with a swift spin of the heel before metering out fifteen paces. "Pull out your wands."
Bellatrix's wand slipped free from where it had been up her sleeve, dropping down into her palm. So did his.
"3...2..." the countdown began and Hermione could feel anticipation build up inside her. Dora looked on edge as well. "...1!"
Both contestants swiveled around, wands raised, spells spilling forth from their lips as magic burst from their wands in a collision of red and blue.
The game had begun.
A/N: Up next, the duel continues and trouble arises at the party!
