The Mysterious Department

Arc Three- The Mystery Deepens

Chapter Thirteen: If You Liked it, you Should've put a Ring on it

Word got around of what happened on the train mission, mainly because Dora was nosy to high heavens and had pulled it out of Hermione. Okay, so perhaps it wasn't entirely Dora behind this sharing of information because Hermione had approached her on finding ways to thank Bellatrix properly for having rescued her. Flowers didn't feel personal enough. Neither did chocolates.

"Honestly, get her like a knife or something," Dora had said. "If you insist on gifting her anything at all, but which I find redundant only because she's saved people's lives countless times. It's probably lost all meaning to her."

That hadn't made Hermione feel good- it was cheapening the whole ordeal. Dora hadn't meant it that way, but it still stung.

"Knives?" Hermione questioned. "Why those?"

Dora shrugs. "Some people collect postage stamps. She collects knives. I think she just likes how sharp they are, much like her tongue."

At this, Hermione couldn't stop the flush coming onto her face. Dora noticed it immediately. "What? What's got you imitating a tomato?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, nothing. Honestly." She looked down into her tea.

Dora frowned. "Come on, out with it."

"It's not important."

"It wouldn't be, if you hadn't flushed like that."

Hermione bit her bottom lip, contemplating. "It's just...um," she had felt...a bit out of sorts since the whole mouth to mouth situation. Hermione knew it wasn't a big deal and Bellatrix had carried on like nothing had happened. But Hermione needed to tell someone about this, so they could reassure her she was just over thinking things. "Well, she gave me mouth to mouth," she admitted at last, squirming in her seat like it was hot.

Dora had practically no reaction to this. "So?"

"I...just feel weird about it now." Hermione shrugged suddenly feeling lame. Why was she freaking out over something like this? She was 28 years old. She needed to get a grip on things.

"It's not even a kiss," Dora waved it off. "Besides, I'm sure that she's not bothered in the least by it. It's not going to make things weird between the two of you if you don't make it weird."

"Right," Hermione said unsatisfactorily. For some reason, hearing it not be taken as a kiss made her feel...a tad let down. She wasn't sure why entirely.

She took a sip of her tea, Dora springing up with another idea. "Oh, I know. She loves firewhiskey. Get her a bottle then. Or two! She drinks like a fish."

So, Hermione did.

"What's this?" Bellatrix arched an inquisitive brow as Hermione thunked down the amber bottle of firewhiskey and an ornate knife down next to it.

"This, is a thank you gift for saving me."

Bellatrix stared so long at Hermione, Hermione started to feel dumb.

"Are you feeling quite alright. Did the dunk in the river mess with your brain?" Bellatrix asked, setting her book aside so she could come at Hermione full force. It was late at night and both of them were in their pjs, though Bellatrix's definitely showed more skin than Hermione's tasteful striped long pants and button up shirt type did. And Bellatrix's hair was down to let loose her luscious locks, making her look more relaxed than normal. Hermione's own hair was up if only because it would get too tangled if she let it loose while she slept.

Hermione frowned. "Can't I just be grateful?"

"It's not a big deal, Granger. I save lives all the time." Said with that patented smugness.

"It is a big deal to me. And I think that despite you saying you don't quite care for me, you care a bit. So please, just take this gift to show you that I do care about you too. Even if you are a giant jerk to me and like to abuse me under the guise of our training sessions."

Bellatrix raised two brows at this verbal comment. "I don't care for you. I already told you you're a replacement for my old partner until I get him back. The fact I didn't want you dying is because it looks bad on me."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Right. She was beginning to think all of Bellatrix's bluster and prickliness was just a cover up to hide the fact she was a soft marshmallow on the inside.

"Well, anyways, I'll leave this here and let you get back to your book." Hermione turned to leave when Bellatrix's voice called out to her.

"Sit. Won't you have a drink with me?" Bellatrix offered, a bit reluctantly as if she herself wasn't sure she wanted to do this but yet was offering from some societal reason Hermione was not privy to.

Hermione shook her head. "No thank you. I'm alright."

"Afraid to drink?" Bellatrix challenged, apparently not being used to being rejected and this rubbing her the wrong way.

"No, I just don't want to drink on a work night."

"Don't be so uptight. Just have a glass with me. Alcohol tastes better with someone to share it."

Hermione never would have expected Bellatrix to want to spend time with her for anything other than work, and even then she didn't want to either.

So, on second thought, this might be an amazing chance, not only to get closer to Bellatrix and learn more about her, possibly becoming better partners, but also maybe to weasel some clues from her about where she had been sneaking off to on the weekends. Hermione had noticed it, noticed Bellatrix's long absences, noticed her coming back at late hours, looking so haggard.

"I suppose one glass would be alright," Hermione said, sitting down on the seat on the other side of the small table. Bellatrix conjured up some glasses and popped open the bottle. An intense cinnamon-y scent wafted into the air.

"Have you ever had this before?" Bellatrix asked as she poured.

"No. Not really."

"It's a kick to the pants, that's for sure," Bellatrix commented. She drank hers down right away and Hermione tried to as well only to nearly choke on it. It burned like hell! She set the glass down and slapped a hand to her chest to help it go down.

"Oh god," she squeaked out while Bellatrix sported a richly amused look on her face. Hermione shot her a glare. She felt like Bellatrix had invited her for the drink now, only to see this reaction. "Why didn't you warn me?" she coughed out.

"I did," Bellatrix refilled her glass and poured more into Hermione's. "You get used to the burn after a bit."

Hermione highly doubted that but she stayed put for now, clutching the glass with the amber liquid in her hand.

"How was your time in the muggle world?" Bellatrix asked, the question taking Hermione off guard. Bellatrix never deigned to ask Hermione such personal questions.

"Uh, well. Normal, I guess. I went to school. Got a masters in criminal justice before I settled down on a station. They all wanted me for my reputable skills. But I settled on the one closest to home so I wouldn't be too far from my parents. And then...I worked there for about five years."

"You never experienced anything magical before that incident with the goblins?"

Hermione took a thoughtful sip, thinking back. "Maybe. As a child. Whenever I had issues with others, like really bad issues that made me all so emotional, something bad would happen to them. Like they would get pooped on by a bird, or lose their favorite toys. I always thought it was God doing that to them, however. Besides, it stopped when I got older because I had to learn how to be more stoic."

She had to learn stoicism so the bullies wouldn't see how much it hurt when they did the things they did to her. If they got no reaction, they would get bored. Which had ended up working out and so Hermione had been fine up until she'd started working at the police station, when Crabbe and Goyle would start being right arses to her all because she was better than them. She wasn't conceited. But she had self worth and self esteem in her abilities and those washed up doughnut eaters only found worth in their lives when annoying her. And no one wanted to side with her, because they were annoyed with her for doing such a good job and taking their cases away. Only the chief had adored her and made sure she was alright because he knew how cruel the others could be. He had even offered an office all for herself, but she knew it would only worsen the situation with the other cops if they saw her being singled out and treated better, and she had declined.

"Sounds like magic to me," Bellatrix said. "Magic always arrives in children, but muggles often brush off their magical mishaps and experiences as something else, so then when they grow up, that magic within them lays dormant and going to waste unless they are able to train it properly. You're lucky you were able to do that, because some adults lose the ability to call out that magic at all and it can start driving them mad from the inside."

Hermione shuddered, both from the burn of the new sip of firewhiskey she had taken and the news of that.

"That's awful," she stated. "But how come my magic allowed me to see those goblins at the time I did? If there are so many magical creatures around, shouldn't I see them more often?"

"Magical creatures stay away from the muggle world. It's too polluted and dirty for them. Besides, your rapid expansion has killed off huge populations of them."

"Oh." That was awful, but much like what humanity was doing to the normal animal species that existed, for hundreds of years.

"Those goblins must have been desperate and not expecting to find a hidden witch among the humans. So they had the bad luck of running into you."

That eased Hermione's mind a bit on the whole situation. In fact, this whole conversation with Bellatrix was nice. They hadn't spoken like this ever before. It made Hermione wonder why the sudden interest. Naturally, she could not refrain from asking.

"Why all these questions about me? Why do you care?" Hermione said, words slurred because every time she looked at her glass it had refilled and she couldn't just leave it there to be wasted. Bellatrix had been right, while the liquor still burned, it felt nice now and made her body pleasantly warm. Though she had to admit, she had gotten drunk a lot faster than she'd expected. This stuff was strong.

Bellatrix huffed out. "I suppose if I'm stuck with you for the time being, I might as well get to know about you somewhat."

"Then the same should apply to you too," Hermione said, her drunk mind sensing an opening here.

Bellatrix tilted her head coyly. "Oh, and what would you like to know about me?" Despite drinking more than Hermione, she seemed fine. Not even a warm tint to her cheeks.

"How do you get your curls like that?" Hermione leaned in, intently staring at them. Oops. She hadn't meant to ask that but it had come out anyways and it was too late to take it back.

That comment only fed into Bellatrix's ego. "Genetics."

Hermione pouted. She should have seen that coming. So she refocused herself, tried to get back on track. "Well then what do you like to do on the weekends?"

Bellatrix gave Hermione a cheeky grin. "You're not subtle at all."

"I just want to know why you're gone all the time." Hermione shrugged, like she wasn't being transparent on checking up on Bellatrix and making sure she wasn't doing something she wasn't supposed to.

"And what if it's because I have a lover?" Bellatrix suggested and suddenly Hermione felt her stomach squeeze.

Oh. She hadn't considered that. What kind of lover could it be? She could only imagine it must be a man of standing because Bellatrix was so picky and so demanding of the best that it would only make sense she would want the best.

An image of a man with dark hair, tall stature and well dressed body filled Hermione's mind. But it felt wrong to see Bellatrix in his arms, smiling and giggling girlishly for some man. It also made Hermione oddly upset.

She wasn't sure why. She respected her partner and was in awe of her, even if she was an arsehole most of the time.

"Prudish much?" Bellatrix teased when she saw Hermione's expression.

"No, just too much information," Hermione said, trying to look for a reason to leave now. Her eyes landed on the clock. "I think I should be going to bed soon too. It's nearly midnight."

"I won't stop you, but I will finish this bottle," Bellatrix said and leaned back more comfortably into the chair. Hermione finished her glass and left the room, catching out of the corner of her eye, Bellatrix glancing at her reflection in the steel of the knife she'd been gifted, when she thought Hermione wasn't looking.


Hermione stumbled into work the next day with a hangover.

"Geeze, I thought an Inferi had gotten in with the amount of groaning and moaning you're doing," Dora admonished playfully when she saw the haggard brunette walking in. Hermione's hair was more bushy than normal and her clothes were sloppily put on. But she could not care one iota about that right now because she felt like rubbish.

"Remind me never to drink again with Bellatrix."

Bellatrix chuckled from where she was situated at her desk, looking right as rain and engrossed in her work.

"Yea, don't do that. She will drink you under the table into an early grave," Dora said. "Everyone in the wizarding world knows this." She took pity on her friend who had collapsed into her seat with a throbbing head, body and with her stomach doing pirouettes in order to see what it could make come up.

"Wait here, I'll go fetch you a hangover potion," Dora instructed and Hermione only let out a grunt of assent. When Dora came back with a pink potion, it could have been poison for all Hermione knew, she just wanted the pain to go away. She had never had a hangover this bad. It must be because she had drank firewhiskey and her body wasn't used to wizarding drinks. She gulped the potion down and immediately could feel the effects of it.

It soothed all the aches and pain and within five minutes she was her old self-her hangover a distant thing of the past. "This is amazing," she said, stunned. She had to learn how to make one. Now she was ready for a day of work. But first, she'd spruce up her image a bit, now that she felt better enough to care about it.

And good thing she did too, because when she came out of the bathroom, Kingsley's door had materialized on the wall by the no longer rusty knight and he popped it open, searching for her.

"Hermione, I would like to have a word with you in my office," Kingsley said. They entered his office.

"What is this about?" Hermione asked, worried this was about her and Luna taking down the diary artifact without consulting Bellatrix on the matter. Or even about the train case. She nervously rubbed her hands together and tried not to act anxious.

He inhaled deeply as he sat in front of her, hands folded together. "There is no easy way to go about this."

Is he going to fire me? She thought.

"The upcoming case will be a difficult one."

Oh, good. Well not good that the case would be rough but good in that she wasn't in trouble over what she had done.

"How so?" Was this why she was being briefed by him today and not by Luna?

"This case will deal with a blood artifact, but Luna can fill you in on the rest. What I have to tell you has to do with Bellatrix."

"Is she not going on the mission?"

"No, she is. Which is why I need you to be extra careful of her. Pay special attention to her."

"Why?"

"The place you are going to in order to get the artifact holds bad memories for her. Very bad memories and I don't want it affecting her mental state. You also need to watch yourself. The people the two of you will be dealing with are not nice souls."

"I'll protect her, don't worry," she assured, only confused by his cryptic words.

"Good," he smiled and she took it that she was dismissed. She left the office and as soon as she did it melted away only leaving a bare wall where the door had once been.

"Ready to start the mission?" Luna asked, holding some files in her hand that a shrunken head had brought her. Hermione shivered, grateful it was already bouncing away.

"Yes, but I'm confused. Kingsley warned me to keep an eye," at this she glanced over at the woman who was scribbling something quickly on parchment with quill as smoke curled up from her cigarette, "on Bellatrix. Do you know why?" she asked in a lower tone of voice.

Luna tipped her head to the side. "No. I don't." And this Luna truly meant it; for once she was not withholding information. She handed the files over to Hermione. "Let's brief this case first. There's a lot to digest."

Hermione followed Luna over to a quiet part of the station, far away from any of the other occupants of it. They sat down, spreading out the files. "Bellatrix has been already briefed on this and instructed on what she must do. She knows her role, but you must learn yours."

"Oh so I'll be going undercover." Hermione had done this a couple of times back at her muggle job. She knew how dangerous it was. She was already prepared mentally for the high stakes.

"This isn't anything of the sort you've done before in your work as a muggle detective. This is on another level. You'll be infiltrating a purist cult." That didn't sound fun at all.

"Won't they know I'm muggle born?" Hermione questioned. Surely they had wards up for that. Bellatrix had told her about the horrifying nature of them last time.

"Yes, they will. Which is why you're going in as Bellatrix's muggle."

Hermione arched a brow in confusion. "Her what?"

"Like a pet. An offering perhaps would be better wording," Luna mumbled the second part, trying to find the words to describe this.

Hermione's stomach gave a nervous churn. "An offering for what?" she nearly squeaked out.

"For the rise of Voldemort."

Hermione shook her head, denoting she was drawing a blank on this.

"You don't need to know about him for your role. All you have to do is act dumb and clueless of the world around you. Bellatrix is the one who will have to navigate the purist cult and find the artifact and then get the both of you out of there before the rest of the ministry swoops in on the sting operation."

"But I would like to know about him, just for my own sake," Hermione said.

Luna nodded her head, opening her mouth for what would become a huge dump of information.

"We've had issues with him before. About 20 years ago." That would put Hermione roughly at eight and Bellatrix fresh out of Hogwarts. "He was a sick man who had this vision that magical bloodlines were becoming too polluted with muggle blood. He wanted to stop that by revenging himself upon those who were muggle supporters or who were muggle. He had a swath of purebloods and even halfbloods who supported him in this. They even laid war upon us, striking even Hogwarts and trying to kill Dumbledore if the man hadn't been able to put an army together to save most of the wizarding world. The war raged on for a while and Voldemort's army held strong. He was a master wizard, but then he made the mistake of coming after a boy named Harry Potter when he was but a babe."

Hermione's eyes widened at this. So that was part of why Harry was so famous in this world!

"But Voldemort ended up killing himself when his spell backfired. Harry's mother had loved her son so much that when she died her love for him protected Harry from evil and destroyed Voldemort. And it was thought Voldemort was defeated for his army was disbanded and thrown to jail and he simply vanished into thin air."

"But now he's back," Hermione said.

"We're not certain," Luna replied. She looked worried behind her glasses which couldn't be good. Luna rarely worried over anything. "We've heard rumors that the purebloods, those who still believe in blood purity, have been uniting at the behest of some man with grand power. We aren't even sure the artifact will be involved."

"So then why send us in?" Hermione knew stopping a purist cult was a given on any day, but if their department was only artifacts: why go if one wasn't there?

"Because I know there was an artifact there," Luna stressed, "even if there's isn't physical proof of one." She spread out some photos that had been taken of Voldemort. He was a tall man with pale skin whose face looked like it had been wiped clean of all it's features. He looked that of a humanoid snake almost. And his eyes burned with hatred.

She looked from moving image to moving image. One was of Voldemort screaming something at his supporters. Another was of him in a wand duel. Another of him destroying wizarding London with magic, walking through it like he owned it. He was powerful, that much could be seen just from the magnitude of his sheer magical force.

And on every picture he wore a simple silver ring on his fourth finger.

"This ring I believe is an artifact," Luna said, tapping on it. "It might not have been an artifact when he used it, but it could be one now."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Artifacts don't simply arrive from thin air. They are created, much as one creates life. And the way they are created is through strong emotion. This ring, has seen much hatred and bloodshed and that would be enough to create a malignant artifact. One that could have been found and used by this new person who wants to pick up Voldemort's old work."

"Do you even have such a ring recorded?"

Luna shook her head no. "The ministry took what remained of Voldemort when the curse back fired. Which were his robes, his ring, and the elder wand he carried. We don't have access to those. However," at this Luna slid a notice to Hermione. Hermione scanned it, reading quickly.

"Someone broke in and stole it from them. About five months ago." Hermione concluded.

"Yes," Luna nodded grimly. "Which is why there might be an artifact involved. I am certain there is one, while no one else fully believes it. Kingsley thinks it is the power of the elder wand that draws people to this new man, but it is not. It is the ring. Voldemort was a charismatic man even despite his looks. He had a way with words that could sway anyone. It was what drew others to him. If the ring is the artifact than that would mean it would give the wearer unmatched charisma and coupled with the wand, unmatched power to do his bidding and lead the purebloods to escalate another war of purity."

This was not sounding good. Could Hermione be affected by the charisma even if she wasn't pureblood?

"Unfortunately, this case won't allow you to bring wands or any magical devices with you. There will no doubt be wards put up in place to protect the location these purists will be meeting at. Neither can we put any disillusionment charms on your face to disguise you, so just wear a lot of make up."

That didn't sound good at all. They would be going in cold. "What if we run into trouble? How are we to take down this new evil guy?"

Luna sighed. "I really wish I could help with this, but we don't want to risk giving you a magical implements and having it be confiscated or having it set off the alarms."

"What about using an artifact?"

Luna shook her head. "The risk is too great. Besides, I'm not asking you both to take him down. We just need confirmation that he has the ring and of what he looks like, so then we can give the information to the ministry. Snagging the ring on your way out would be amazing but you don't have to do it. We can always steal it back afterwards now that I've discovered where it was being kept and where it will most likely be kept next.

"We will be waiting nearby so that if we sense anything is wrong we can help draw you out or help you escape." Luna concluded, closing the folder.

And with that, the briefing was over and the hunt for New Voldemort on.