Breaking the Window

Chapter 41: Merry Solstice!

Hermione felt the same feeling whenever she teleported into a Black holding: first the thoroughly unpleasant sensation of being forced through a narrow tube, followed by the odd sensation of being pushed through a thick layer of sticky-toffee pudding. Thankfully, after a moment of disorientation, she found herself standing in a coach house belonging to a sporting estate serving as one of the Black family vacation homes. Though the mansion itself was quite large by normal standards, this three story and two century old building was tiny in comparison to Catterborough Woodhouse.

"Ah, miss Granger," sounded the welcoming voice of Sebastian, whom apparently had been waiting for her. "Welcome to Skailburroughs House. Designed by Wallace Grant esquire in a strong baronial style and commissioned by Procyon Black in 1855. It has served as both a summer and winter solstice home to the Manchester-Blacks ever since."

"It looks very nice," said Hermione as they walked the gravel path towards the house. It had crow-stepped gables and high, canted windows. Its almost grey-beige walls were seemingly made from local stone. Hermione could hear the ocean in the distance and, glancing around, she could see standing stones at a nearby cliff side against a heavily forested background. "I understand these are the Orkneys, but where exactly are we, Sebastian?"

"The island of Blacksay," said Sebastian. "Just south of Hoy. You won't find the island on any official maps and certainly not muggle ones. It is magically protected and hidden, to both muggles and wizards. It is truly as private as grounds can get. As a guest, you are one of the few non-family members who have stepped foot on these lands."

"I'll consider it a point of pride," replied Hermione.

Of course, the very reason for being here was quite simple. She and Bellatrix wanted to spend the holidays together. But the Blacks didn't celebrate Christmas. So it was decided that Hermione would join Bellatrix for her family solstice celebration on the 22nd and Bellatrix would join Hermione for her family's Christmas celebration on the 24th. They weren't sure how to spend the last week together, but they would figure something out when it was time to cross that bridge.

Hermione followed Sebastian into the entrance hall and found herself in a rather cozy room surrounded by undoubtedly enchanted armours and family portraits. As with many houses of this type, a set of double stairs led to upper floors. "May I take your coat, miss Granger?" asked Sebastian.

"Please," said Hermione. A few moments later, she sauntered into what seemed to be the main sitting room, filled with cozy leather furniture and hunting trophies of many a magical beast lining the walls. A roaring fire to one side and a gorgeous view on the countryside through massive bay windows. The amount of wealth on display was staggering, especially considering this just a vacation home for them.

In the room stood Cygnus and another man, backs turned to her and apparently looking at the picture. The second man was a wizard who looked a little older than Cygnus and certainly twice, if not thrice, the bulk. White hair covering only the chin and the back of his head, the bulky man pointed at the picture and let out a laugh. "Merlin's arse, remember ole pole-face Chogan? He's got that cactus lodged even further up his backside, believe it or not."

"I really should visit again soon," said Cygnus. "Can't believe it's been seven years since the last time."

"Megedagik. Fucking Megedagik. Survives a killing curse bolt, ran into a group of Grindelfart's lackeys wielding only a fucking tomahawk, beat back a Wendigo with a stick! Hell, it was large stick, but still… and then gets done in by slipping in the shower," the bulky man shook his head. "If he'd been able too, the old bastard would laugh his head off."

Curious, Hermione stepped a bit closer. The picture was a large group black and white photograph which looked to be decades old. It contained a large group of native Americans, both male and female. Among them was a much younger Cygnus and another man. This must have been taking during the war against Grindelwald, Hermione thought, considering Cygnus' personal history. The group seemed to be jovial enough for a war party. These must be the Montana-Blacks Hermione had heard so much about. They certainly seemed a bit more numerous than Hermione was expecting. Apparently the Black family had done quite well for themselves in the States.

Hermione coughed, announcing herself.

The two men turned around and Cygnus was quick to greet. "Ah, Hermione," he said. "Forgive us. We were reminiscing."

"A guest arriving before the host's family?" the bulky man raised an eyebrow.

"What can I say? Miss Granger is far more punctual than my own daughters," he sighed.

"It's all in the upbringing, I say," snorted the bulky man. "Kids aren't raised right these days. I blame the parents."

Cygnus raised an eyebrow. "I see… well, I'd say you're half the man you used be, but looking at the picture, you're more twice the man now."

"Says the one who took a frost bolt to the knee because he wasn't quick enough to duck behind a tree like I fucking told him to. And where are your manners, hm? Introduce us, mum!"

Cygnus shook his head. "Hermione Granger, this uncouth lout here is, regrettably, my brother Alphard Black. Alphard, this his Hermione Granger, my eldest' girlfriend."

Eldest' girlfriend. That still sounded odd.

Alphard took Hermione hand and rather flamboyant bent over to kiss the back of it. Hermione gave him an amused glance while Cygnus rolled his eyes rather overtly. Alphard ignored him as the three of them walked over the nearest sofas. As Alphard sat down, Hermione could hear the furniture straining underneath his bulk. "Excuse me for not coming to see you and Bellatrix sooner. Morag and I were quite literally in the middle of nowhere. In Montana, of course. So the middle of nowhere in the middle of nowhere."

Morag… Black? Hermione recalled that name. "Wait, isn't she trainer of the England national Quidditch team?" asked Hermione.

"After being its star chaser for ten years," spoke Alphard with pride. "Puts a lot of pressure on her, so she likes to get away from it all once in a while. I followed her. Not to do hiking, of course. I mean, just look at me…"

"The only hiking you do is from your bed to the kitchen," Cygnus added.

Alphard narrowed his eyes. "I'll have you know I've moved my bedroom right next to the kitchen to save time and energy that could be spent exercising the jaw muscles."

"Oh, I stand corrected!"

"At least I won't blow away when someone farts in my general direction. Unlike some other brothers I know."

"Not for your lack of trying, Alfie."

Hermione giggled briefly at the two bothers' banter. It seemed they got along well. "Is Morag here too?" asked Hermione.

"No," said Alphard. "She taking a bit of a scramble through the forest. Girl could never stay in one spot for long. Did non-stop hiking in Montana too, but, yes, just look at me. I just remained on the reservation and did the whole family visit thing. Went on a long fishing trip with Etchemin which is why we didn't catch the news of Bellatrix' return immediately. Oh, that reminds me! Cygnus, Etchemin's granddaughter has expressed an interest to travel through the UK in the near future. To explore her English roots, as it were."

"Oh?" asked Cygnus. "How old is Takhi now? She must have been something like ten or twelve last time I was in Montana."

"Ah, she's about young Hermione's age, I'd say," said Alphard. "Plucky, smart as a whip, intense but quite polite."

"Well, I'll let Etchemin know the doors of Catterborough Woodhouse are always open for her."

"I might meet her one day, then," smiled Hermione.

"Aye," said Alphard. "And if it'd been up to Orion, our family would have been a lot smaller. I'm glad the cunt's dead and you did a good thing by pushing him off this mortal coil."

Cygnus' expression became a little distant, upon which Alphard clapped him on the shoulder. "I get it, mate. But you know as well as I do that removing someone can sometimes do a world of good."

Cygnus didn't seem all that convinced, even though the situation it had put his family in was objectively better. Hermione felt she… understood Cygnus to a point. Like her, Cygnus had been damaged by war and had never really recovered from it. He had lived his life to the best of his ability, but the experience of war and death would always hang over him like a dark shadow, along with decades worth of suffering through nightmares and untreated trauma. Hermione would be the same, she feared. War was within her now and it would never leave her. Her depression would never go away, in a sense, but always linger. Cygnus glanced at her in that moment, a small knowing smile.

Yes, Cygnus and Hermione understood one another. Perhaps that was why he had been so welcoming, open and treated her with such kindness. It was because he saw a reflection of himself in her eyes. And vice versa. 'Be strong', his expression seemed to say. 'Live with it, but never let it haunt you too much. You can overcome it.'

It was by then that the rest of the Black family started to trickle in, as well as the servants. Andromeda, Ted and Nymphadora. Narcissa. Achille and Druella. And, of course, Bellatrix. Hermione, for her part, kept her distance a little to give Bellatrix a chance to meet the family she had never met before. While Hermione chatted with Narcissa and Andromeda, she kept an eye on Bellatrix and Alphard who were rather animatedly sharing stories. Morag Black, a red-haired lean woman about Andromeda's age, came back in her walking kit and was swiftly greeted by Bellatrix. Of course, they had a lot of stories to share too. By the way Bellatrix was swaying her body while making hand gestures, they were talking about Quidditch moves.

By the time dinner started, the entire family were seated at the largest dinner table she had ever seen, filled to the brim with a cornucopia of precious foods ranging from truffles, to turkey to a boar roast with glasses of wine and champagne ready for drinking. The second surprise was that all the Black family servants, Sebastian, the gardener, the chef, the three maids, joined them at the table. Twice a year, apparently, at solstice celebration, servants and masters were equals. The normally fairly regimented family dinners were far more boisterous and loud as banter was had, songs were sung and food was enjoyed. And when the food was done, more food was being brought in.

Thusly, after the sun had long set, Hermione found herself being dragged up the stairs to what seemed to have been the sisters' room at one point.

"Trix," Hermione moaned. "Don't shake me about, I'm going to explode in a hail of food!"

"Pish-posh," said Bellatrix. "Come on, I need to claim the top bunk!"

Hermione frowned as she was being dragged into the landing on the top floor of the sporting estate. "Wait… I doubt Narcissa and Andromeda will be sleeping in your old room with you."

"Oh…" Bellatrix stopped in her tracks. "I guess I forgot. Okay, we get the top bunk by default!"

Indeed, the older sisters' room was very much fitting to the taste of all three Black sisters. It was an attic room with a slanted roof, a large window by the side and plenty of posters of famous witches on the wall. A trio of beanbag chairs surrounded an old-time record player and the 'bunk-bed' was actually a custom made trio of queen-sized beds stuck on top of each other with a ladder at the foot-end.

Bellatrix looked at the bunk-bed and giggled. "Believe it or not, but it was usually Andie who won the top bunk. Last time before… well… Anyway, Andie put a big fat rubber snake in the top bunk before we left the previous winter. When it was time for summer solstice, Cissy won the race and rushed into the top bunk. Only to come out yelling and screaming two seconds later and threw that rubber snake right into my face. So while Cissy was screaming her head off and I was wrestling with a rubber snake I still thought was real, Andie had firmly entrenched herself in the top bunk and put up three series of magic barriers to keep her price. Merlin, Cissy and I were so bloody angry…"

"I can imagine!" replied Hermione.

"If there's one thing I've learned," said Bellatrix from the wash basin after cleaning her face and brushing her teeth. "Is that Andromeda is full of guile."

Hermione couldn't really argue with that. The next moments were spent getting into nightwear which meant the usual pink pyjamas for Hermione and the usual dark grey shorts and top for Bellatrix. When laying on the top queen-sized bunk bed, Hermione could understand why the top bunk was so popular. With the ceiling right above her and the wall right next to her, it was a rather cozy nook to sleep in. Add in Bellatrix cuddling up against her and laying a head of curly hair on her shoulder, and Hermione had to admit it made her feel more safe and comfortable than she had felt in a long time. Especially when a yawning Bellatrix reached over to slip her hand into her pyjamas to tickle her belly-button.

It was a perfect moment. The fireplace was still burning, the skies outside were clear and the moonlight was pouring in through the window. The bed was big enough for Zipper to have settled at the foot-end of the bed, lying down quietly. Indeed, Zipper was turning more and more into a flying dog every single day. Well… a flying dog with teleporting powers, a stinger and a sweet tooth.

Still. Bliss.

"We'll be going back to Hogwarts soon," said Hermione, her voice breaking the comfortable silence within the room. Bellatrix let out an audible groan.

"Don't remind me," she sighed.

Hermione turned her head, reaching over lay her hand on hers. "You don't want to return to a semblance of normality?"

Bellatrix snorted through her nose. "Normal is boring!"

"Boring is good. Boring makes the adventure stand out more."

"I suppose," Bellatrix shrugged. "Though the level of boredom at Hogwarts is far too much for my tastes."

"Don't you want to complete your education? Finish what you started?" asked Hermione.

"Nothing which has happened in the past few months could remotely compare to anything I might learn at that miserable place," said Bellatrix. "Though I suppose it won't be all bad. You'll be there. And after talking shop with Morag, I rather like the idea of stepping on a broom again for some games of Quidditch."

Hermione smiled. "Ah, yes, the legendary Slytherin star chaser. To hear Ron speak highly of a Slytherin player is something else. You might go pro if you wanted to," she said, looking her in the eye. "You can do anything you want now that you have a future again."

Bellatrix thought a moment. "Go pro? Nah, I want to do other things with my life. In fact, I think I've come to a decision. I want to be a writer and start with writing a book about our adventures. I've already started an outline for it and I've had some correspondence with Mr. Scamander. And I want to write more horror stories. I want to finish my grandfather's book in his name. I want to spend my future doing things I love."

"I'm so happy to hear that," said Hermione. Bellatrix shifted and looked up at her, a cheeky grin plastered all over her face.

"What?"

"You're one of the things I love…"

Hermione barely had time to yelp before Bellatrix pounced upon her. At least she had the comfort of knowing that Bellatrix' top and short came off just as quickly as her own pink pyjamas did.

Hermione was still snoozing when she felt something push against her. Her eyes fluttered open and she was met with a rather odd sight. In fact, she sat up being startled until she finally saw that the person on the ladder to the bed pushing her was actually Bellatrix. She was clad in a brown robe and her head was covered in a hooded cloak fashioned out of the skin of a deer. On her head was a wreath made from small animal bones, as was the necklace which hung loose over her shoulders. The entire outfit seemed to be ancient and magically preserved. More striking, however, was that her face was mostly covered with different shades of blue woad and in the darkness of the room, Hermione could make out vague runic patterns.

"Sorry," said Bellatrix. "Didn't want to wake you yet. You look so cute when you were sleeping. But it'll be sunup soon and I still have to do your face."

And so Hermione find herself suppressing a yawn while Bellatrix dragged her out of bed and dressed her in a robe quite similar, but less adorned. Apparently, this one was meant for guest attendees. Hermione was sat on a chair while Bellatrix was applying a mix of foul-smelling, thick concoction on her face. It settled surprisingly quickly and, after about ten minutes of work, a rather pleased looking Bellatrix gave her a hand-mirror.

Unlike Bellatrix' blue runic woad, Hermione face-paint was black and white and decidedly skull-shaped. It seemed she had quite outdone herself, judging by the self-satisfied expression as Bellatrix examined her handiwork.

"Come," said Bellatrix. "We have some time for tea before the ceremony. Just be careful. I painted your lips and you don't want the taste of that woad in your mouth, trust me."

Once downstairs, Hermione was greeted with an odd sight. For a moment, she wondered if she had stepped into the break-room for a group of live-action roleplayers. All of the Black family, including the servants, were dressed up in ceremonial garbs, holding staves and having a variety of bones strapped to their person, while doing mundane every-day things like having tea, reading the newspaper or simply chatting about Quidditch.

Hermione set aside the stave she had been given by Bellatrix and poured herself a cup of tea which she gently put to her lips while heeding Bellatrix' warning. Apparently, Hermione's facepaint turned some heads, which caused the curly-haired witch to beam slightly. She was about to ask why when she heard some commotion coming from the stairs.

"But mummmm… it's so early…" sounded the uncharacteristically whiny voice of Nymphadora as she was being dragged down the stairs by a rather irate Andromeda. Nymphadora, for her part, stomped around like a zombie freshly risen from the grave.

"Two days a year! TWO DAYS! That's all I ask and you can't even muster that?!" Andromeda retorted somewhat angrily. "You're face isn't even done and we have to start procession in less than ten minutes or we'll miss sunup!"

"Uuuuuuuuhhh," Nymphadora groaned when she stagged down the stairs. Meanwhile, Andromeda made a rather striking figure dressed in a robe that was almost completely covered with large bones shaped to form a ribcage over her chest while lining her robe down her feet. Even her cloak was adorned with bones and, considering how heavy they looked. Not to mention ancient. In one hand was a headdress which was comprised of a large skull with massive antlers attached. Aside from looking very heavy in itself, the real reason for not wearing in the house was likely because she wouldn't be able to move without knocking something or someone over. Hell, she probably wouldn't even be able to get through a door.

"Maman, would you kindly apply Dora's facepaint?" asked Andromeda.

Druella Black was quick to smile and respond. "But of course, Minette. Come along, ma petite puce. Let's get some runes on your face."

Rather amusingly, Nymphadora was still groaning in protest while being sat down on the sofa before Druella got to work on her face.

"Wow," chuckled Bellatrix while taking a sip from her tea. "Cousin Nymphadora really doesn't like mornings, now does she? Drink your tea, Hermione. We have some time before the procession."

"You've been rather mysterious about this whole thing, Trix," replied Hermione.

Bellatrix shrugged. "It's… best if you just experience it. It's all a bit hard to explain. But afterwards, it'll be a day of merriment and feasting."

"I'll take your word for it," Hermione replied.

A few minutes later, Hermione was part of a procession which left the house. The members of House Black, both family and staff, walked in silence in rows of two being led by Andromeda. Not being used to staves, Hermione awkwardly used hers as a walking staff as the procession moved on as they moved from the mansion through the forest and alongside the cliffy coast of the island, to a point that Hermione felt she was walking uncomfortably close to a thirty meter drop down into the churning waves of the sea.

Zipper, in the meantime, was having a whale of a time following Bellatrix and Hermione, often landing on Bellatrix' head to pull on the antlers attached to the hood with his mandibles, and then teleporting to Hermione's head to pull on hers. When Bellatrix next to her had had enough of that, she plucked Zipper from the air and clutched him to her chest where he happily remained for the rest of the procession.

Eventually, the group arrived at a circle of standing stones located at the highest edge of the coast, facing the east. By the time they arrived there, the first rays of the rising sun could be seen creeping over the horizon. The circle of standing stones was large enough to accommodate all members of the procession comfortably. The standing stones themselves were covered in blood-red runes and towered over them and, more interestingly, seemed to be of a type of rock that wasn't native to these isles. To the back of the circle was an altar before a statue which closely resembled the statue of Cernunnos which the Blacks had in their mansion chapel. Torches lined the stones and, to the side, stood a large wicker man some four meters tall. The House Black Banner was proudly raised next to it.

In the middle of the circle was a large stone dais about waist-height and was covered with a cornucopia of luxury: a massive pile of expensive looking food, wines, and many other things. Hermione could see golden trinkets, rolls of expensive silks, bags of spices, too many different things to count, but all looked very valuable.

Hermione felt an arm hook through hers: Bellatrix pulled her back a little so that the gathered procession could form a half-circle around the stone dais. At the altar stood Andromeda, her father next to her holding a bowl. Apparently, whatever this gathering was meant for was about to start.

Andromeda turned to face the rising sun, raised her dagger and her head.

"We welcome the blessings of your return,

Your power over the night will grow stronger once more,

My your blessed light shine upon us like a great bonfire,

So that stranger and friend may warm themselves.

We thank you for the many blessings you have given our family,

And the fortune you have granted us. Especially the return of one long lost.

We offer you your fair share of our bounty.

And the Red Milk from our bodies to feed your strength."

Hermione continued to observe. Sun-worship, standing stones, wicker man. All of this was distinctly pagan. This came as no surprise as she had seen the chapel at Catterborough Woodhouse, after all, but this ritual seemed different. Of course Hermione knew her history and knew about the pagan beliefs of the old isles, but this seemed to be a combination of many different types. Could this be a more original, purer form of a pagan ritual preserved by the ancient Black family, or rather something completely new and original formed by centuries of practice? Hm, Hermione considered this might be a chicken or egg kind of conversation, but then again, considering how strongly traditional the Black family was, it was probably the former.

"Bella?" asked Andromeda. "Would you grace the sun with your voice? It has been thirty-three years."

Hermione turned to Bellatrix, who seemed beyond startled, her cheeks red. Bellatrix shared a look with Hermione for just a moment, before apparently resigning to her fate and stepping towards the altar. What happened next took Hermione's breath away.

Bellatrix started what could only be described as a soft, melodic lament. She was already aware that Bellatrix could have a powerful voice, but this? Bellatrix closed her eyes and sang with increasing volume in a language Hermione did not recognize but could vaguely make out some old Gaelic words. Her pitch, her tone, it was perfect. She didn't need to understand the words to know what emotions Bellatrix was conveying. This was a lament to give voice to hardships endured, with the hopes that the power of the sun would wash them away. So transfixed was Hermione to the haunting song that she barely noticed that, around her, the gathered people were picking up the valuables from the dais to carry them towards the wicker man.

When Bellatrix stopped singing, she seemed rather embarrassed about the whole thing and retreated back into the circle.

"You never told me you could sing that good," whispered Hermione. She knew Bellatrix had a powerful voice, but this was something else entirely.

"I don't like to sing," Bellatrix muttered back, only to be glomped by her teary-eyed mother who continued to hold her tightly and managed to kiss her cheek before Bellatrix pulled away.

"Maman!" hissed Bellatrix. "Not in front of Hermione!"

That made Hermione giggle a little, adding to the embarrassment.

By then, Cygnus stepped down from the altar and started to approach the crowd with bowl in hand. Indeed, it was a bowl for donations, but not the kind of donations Hermione was used to. It was time to gather the 'red milk' to feed the sun with. Hermione took out the dagger she's been given, wondering how to proceed.

"Just a tiny prick in your palm with the tip of your dagger," whispered Bellatrix. "It only takes a few drops. In the old days, we just blood eagled a couple of muggles and hung them over the stones, but the Ministry doesn't allow us to do that anymore."

Hermione blinked. "You're kidding… right? Right?!"

Bellatrix let out a chuckle and a wink.

Hermione decided to go with the flow, watching as each participant donated a few drops of their blood into the bowl. When it was her turn, Hermione held her hand over the bowl and pricked her palm with her dagger just as Bellatrix had said. She hissed at the brief sting and let a few drops fall into the bowl. Cygnus was kind enough to hand her a piece of white cloth. The moment she held it against her palm, she could feel the magical healing properties seep into her skin and instantly close the tiny wound.

Once the blood donation of all the attendants was gathered, Cygnus reverently walked over to the wicker man and placed it among the other valuables which had been loaded into it. Hermione once again followed the example of the others as they all gathered torches. It seemed that by burning the wicker man, the sacrifice to the sun would be complete. As the gathered people formed a circle around the wicker man, Andromeda suddenly stepped forward and levitated herself into it to place herself among the valuables.

"Wait…" Hermione whispered to Bellatrix. "What's she doing? That's incredibly dangerous!"

"It'll be fine," Bellatrix whispered back. "Just be ready with your torch."

"We're… not setting your sister on fire, right?!"

"Relax!"

After Andromeda had taken her place, the gathered all gently put their burning torch at the feet of the wicker man. Hermione was more than hesitant, but after some encouraging words from Bellatrix and a nod from Cygnus, she reluctantly put her torch to it as well.

The wicker man quickly caught fire, flaming rising to consume the straw and the valuables inside. By now, the flames had risen to lick Andromeda's robes. The flames then suddenly exploded out, causing Hermione to yelp. The fires burned hotter and brighter than they should, consuming the valuables with alarming speed. In the middle of it all stood Andromeda, arms raised high. The flames started to engulf her, wreathing over her robe and exposed skin, twisting around her like a whirlwind of heat.

Bellatrix held onto Zipper tightly as the fire burned with more intensity: the wasp has already managed to 'rescue' a bunch of grapes from the wicker man to snack on, but going too close to that fire right now would prove rather deadly for their flying friend.

The moment the flames touched the bowl of blood, the fire exploded outward into a ball of flame, before being pulled back to completely incinerate the wicker man and all the offerings. When Hermione opened her eyes again, she saw Andromeda levitating at the center of a massive bird made from pure fire, wings spread wide. The bird shrieked and flew off, leaving Andromeda to float down to the ground to stand among the ashes as the fire-bird took flight towards the horizon just as the sun appeared over the horizon, brightening this cold winter day. The bird flew off towards it, spreading its wings once more before dipping down to dive into the waters of the sea and extinguish itself forever.

Andromeda stood among the ashes of the wicker man, looking unharmed and rather pleased with herself.

"Show-off," Bellatrix chuckled.

Meanwhile, Hermione had been given much to ponder, having seen this impressive ritual. Apparently the Blacks did this twice a year. Once to see the sun off as the days shortened and once to welcome back the sun as the days grew longer. Sun worship, pagan rites, sacrifices, old Gaelic laments. There was a lot to unpack here.

"Thank you for participating," said Cygnus as he stood besides her.

"Thanks for inviting me," said Hermione. "Though I fear Bellatrix won't be nearly as impressed by our family's Christmas celebrations."

"Hm," replied Cygnus. "I don't think the celebration will hold her interest most."

"May I ask a question?" she said, before actually waiting for an answer. "Some of the people have been giving me odd looks."

"Ah, the face-paint," he chuckled. "It was an odd choice by Bella, but not wholly unexpected. Bellatrix has honoured you with that particular design of face-paint. She has marked you as the one person outside of family which she trusts her life with."

"By drawing a skull on my face?"

"Death and life. Light and dark. Black and whites. Opposites in all things, yet one cannot exist without the other," he gave a mysterious chuckle. "It is no accident. It is not to be taken lightly. Come now. The rest of the day will be spent in celebration. We'll get to enjoy more of the same food we've just given to the sun."

Indeed. Hermione had been given much to ponder.

Hermione stretched happily, but was too happily lazy to actually open her eyes. She felt warm and cozy while hearing the sound of the wind howling past her window. Something soft and gentle ran through her hair. Stroking softly. Up and down. Up and down.

Slowly she opened her eyes to find Bellatrix laying next to her under the duvet. A messy head of curls parked on a fluffy pillow, dark eyes gazing in her eyes while stroking her hair. It was a moment of complete and utter bliss. Especially since the narrow bed in Hermione's room rather luckily forced them to cuddled up while sleeping.

Such an odd half a year she had behind her. Meeting Trix, that poor girl from the past whom she knew would lose her life without her intervention. Another victim of Lestrange, just like she had been. Oh, Hermione had suffered during the war, but it was Lestrange's acts of violence upon her which had come to exemplify all her trauma. To help another victim, through the very fabric of time and space itself, was to help herself in a way.

Never in a million years had she expected this outcome. Not only actually succeeding, but falling in love. Being together in the same time-period. In many ways, Trix was an odd duck… but not odder than herself. Hermione couldn't imagine spending her life with anyone else. In fact, perhaps it was time to tell Trix just that.

Of course, she hesitated. Not because she thought Bellatrix would reject her, it was just that the whole situation made her feel rather awkward.

Awkward? Why was she being such a coward? Yes, that was the word for it. Hell, they arrived late yesterday evening, had a chat with her parents and then swiftly went to bed where they spent half the night making love. Here, together, naked underneath the duvet, was this really a moment to feel awkward? No. She was going to say it. She was going to say that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with her.

"Trix," Hermione whispered, to which Bellatrix perked up a little. "I… I want to spe…"

"Good morning you two!" sounded through the room just as the door was being throw open. Hermione was startled and instinctively pulled the duvet further over her already covered body while Bellatrix merely turned her head. In the doorway stood Emma Granger: her mum was smiling happily and carried in a tray. "Just bringing you a pot of tea and some freshly toasted bread for breakfast. I'll be right out of your hair, loves."

Bellatrix seemed rather amused when she watched her mum put down the tray on a small table next to the bed. "Oh, Bellatrix, there was a big black owl at the door this morning with a letter from your father. I left it on the table next to the front door for you. And if you're looking for Zipper, Hermione, he's out in the shed with your father. He'd had… one of his ideas."

"I'll keep it in mind," replied Hermione. Her mum gave them a small wave before leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

Next to her, Hermione heard a brief chuckle as Bellatrix reached over to the tray to grab some toast.

"It seems your parents have accepted me," Bellatrix said.

"They just haven't figured out yet what a brat you are," Hermione winked.

"Ouch, that hurts," replied Bellatrix with a smile and a wink. "Anyway, what was it you were about to say?"

Instantly, Hermione was nervous again. She took a deep breath. "Look. I'll just say it. Trix, I want to spe… Oh, GOD! Trix, you're getting crumbs all over the bloody bed!"

"What?" asked Bellatrix while gnawing on her piece of toast. "Toast is crunchy."

"Well, you'll be laughing on the other side of your face when you lie down tonight and feel the crumbs digging into your skin!"

"I'll just have to drape myself over you, then," said Bellatrix, raising her chin imperiously.

"So I get to suffer the crumbs in my back?"

"But you'll have something nice on your chest!"

"Ugh… insufferable, arrogant, bratty…"

"True, true and somewhat true… Also, I love when you're pouty," Bellatrix said, before kissing Hermione on the lips.

The moment had passed and the girls decided to get dressed and enjoy their tea before doing downstairs. Sat on her desk chair while Bellatrix balanced on the side of the bed, the girls chatted for a moment. "One of the reasons why mum brought us breakfast in bed might be because she's very busy today," said Hermione. "Mum's a Church Warden, after all."

"A Church what?" asked Bellatrix.

"A Church Warden," repeated Hermione. "For St Jude-on-the-Hill at the end of our street. She has been for longer than I've been alive. They're basically lay officials of the church and help out the vicar to organise events, help set up mass and services, that sort of thing. Christmas Eve is usually the busiest night of the year and she'll be at the church all day until far past midnight."

"You are… Christian, then?" asked Bellatrix.

"Technically I'm C of E," shrugged Hermione. "I was baptised and all, but dad and I are both non-practicing, I suppose. Mum has always been the religious person of the family. I still go sometimes, though. Church is a bit of a social event for our neighbourhood and they often have cakes and tea."

"A Christian witch," said Bellatrix, putting her finger to her lips. "Such a strange concept."

"Why?"

"Christians burn witches, for one."

"That doesn't happen these days," replied Hermione. "And, trust me, Reverend Frost would have some choice words about witch burnings."

"Yeah?" Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "Well, if I see anything in that church of yours even resembling a flame, I'll take out my wand and blast the entire place into tiny rubble!"

Hermione crossed her arms. "It's a church. On Christmas Eve. There's going to be more candles than you can count!"

"No exceptions!" Bellatrix pressed.

Hermione chuckled and shook her head. "Come on, you paranoid little pagan. I didn't set your standing stones on fire, now did I?"

"That's different! You're supposed to set things on fire during my family's rituals!"

A few moments of slight bickering later, the girls went down the stairs to find Hermione's father. After Bellatrix picked up her letter, they entered the garden and had only follow the sounds of hammering from the shed to find Hermione's father. Once inside their spacious garden shed, Jack Granger stood hunched over his workbench with a hammer in hand. Around him, Zipper was buzzing around in excitement, flying around erratically, teleporting back and forth and at one point landing on her father's back to peek over his shoulder.

"Dad, what are you doing?" asked Hermione.

"Ah, there you are!" greeted Jack. "Just in time to see Zipper's new home. Have a look! I call it the wasp-hutch."

By the time Jack revealed the wasp-hutch, Zipper had already settled in. The wasp-hutch itself had been made out of an old pallet. Her father had essentially created some cut-outs in the pallet. On the front side, there were cut-outs for a place food and water dish as well as a tray for toys. The back of the pallet had a larger cut-out where a memory-foam dogbed had been placed. Above it, an upside down plastic laundry basket with a hole cut in the side was nailed into the wood so that Zipper had a private place to retreat to. Zipper had taken place actually on the memory-foam and was using his mandibles to shake a plastic ring with bells on it, happily ignoring all the fuss while playing with his fun new toy.

"Oh, I like!" Bellatrix smiled and reached over to pat Zipper on the head. "He looks like he's enjoying himself."

"Ah," said Jack. "Another satisfied customer."

"You repurposed Chaucer's old dogbed?" Hermione frowned.

"Chaucer?" asked Bellatrix.

"Our old Dachshund," replied Jack Granger almost wistfully. "Died when Hermione was ten. She was inconsolable."

"I grew up with Chaucer, dad," replied Hermione as good memories of running in the yard with their stubborn little family dog came flowing back. "Times seemed so much simpler then."

"I kept the old dogbed for so long and figured since Zipper is only slightly bigger, it should suit him fine."

Bellatrix put her finger to her lips. "It does!" she said. "I should enchant it to make it more portable."

"Yeah, I can't do that with my hammer," said Jack. "I'll leave that to the experts."

Bellatrix remembered she had the envelope and opened it while Hermione patted Zipper on the head and talked to her father. "Thanks for making this, dad," said Hermione. "Zipper looks happy."

"How are you doing, puppet? Really. No bollocks," he asked sincerely.

Hermione bit her lip for a moment. "No bollocks? Taking it day by day. But I've been doing a lot better."

"I'm willing to bet a certain curly-haired girl has something to do with that," her father winked.

Hermione nodded: her father knew her well. "You'd win that bet."

"Whoa… WHOA!" laughed Bellatrix, causing Hermione to turn towards her. "This is well sound! Hermione, look!"

The envelope send by Cygnus turned out to be a couple of newspaper clippings. The first one was from a front page article, it seemed, picture and all. The headline read 'Giant Magical Wasps Raid Belgian Muggle Chocolate Factory!'. On the photograph, taken by a local wizard, showed the workers of the factory crying out in panic while running around like headless chickens while a raiding party of surely a hundred giant wasps were flying in and out of the factory. The wasps paid the workers very little mind as they were mostly carrying off boxes of bon-bons and chocolate bars up into the air. A second clipping had the headline 'Giant Magical Wasp Hive Discovered Deep In Ardennes' and showed a picture of a hive under construction, the tall spires reminding her of the hive she saw from a distance in the Fae Realm. Thankfully, the Belgian Ministry was not interested in exterminating the wasps, but was mostly concerned with containment to keep them away from prying muggle eyes.

"Look, Zipper!" Bellatrix smiled as she held up the picture for the wasp to see. "Your friends made it out of the Fae Realm!"

"They're part of our world now," said Hermione. "I'm just happy so many animals made it out of the Fae Realm safely when we, well, wrecked the place."

Her father lay a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it, puppet. You couldn't have known what would happen."

Hermione smiled briefly and held her father's hand for a moment.

"It's inspiring, really," said Bellatrix. "They lost everything they had and came to a completely new world. And yet they all put their shoulders under it and started to rebuild. Sure, they might have raided a chocolate factory, but, hey, if I was a giant wasp, I'd probably do that too. We should probably take Zipper to the Ardennes at some point."

Hermione smiled. "I'm just happy to know that more if not most of the animals survived and have found a a new home."

"Speaking of new homes," said Jack Granger. "Let's get this wasp-hutch inside and put it down near the fireplace so Zipper can warm himself up a little in his new house."

"Next to the tree and mum's nativity scene?" Hermione chuckled. "I'm pretty sure the inclusion of a giant wasp to the story of Jesus' birth would be apocryphal at best."

Jack Granger laughed. "Jesus riding on the back of a giant wasp and bombarding the Romans from above with Greek Fire bombs would be a much better alternate ending his story… but don't tell your mum I said that. Speaking of your mum, she's already left for the church. I don't need to remind you that tomorrow is for feasting, gifts and celebration. Today is for working."

XXX

Prophetic words, at it turned out. The moment the girls entered St. Jude-on-the-hill, her mum found them and immediately put the both of them to work to set the stage for tonight's mass. Though Bellatrix sputtered a bit at first, as she felt a traditional witch inside a church would, but when she realized she was not at risk or potentially aiding any enemies to the wizarding world, she quickly relented and helped to move pews, set up candles as well as the life-sized nativity scene.

For Hermione, it felt a bit comforting to be back here. St. Jude was a beautiful old stone building with a high ceiling and beautiful murals. She had spent most Sundays of her youth here and honestly kept going more for the social aspect of it. Her mum had always been a bit disappointed when Hermione decided to become non-practising.

While others were mulling about the church, Hermione focused her attention on the absolute rat's nest of cables which comprised St. Jude's long-suffering audio system. She was unwinding a particularly stubborn knot when she spotted Bellatrix from the corner of her eye. Bellatrix was using a stove lighter to light a long table adorned with hundreds of candles which was reverend's Frost's favourite light show during the darkened church's Christmas Eve mass.

At least Bellatrix had transfigured her clothing into something more modern: a wool sweater, a pair of jeans and a pair of leather boots. All black, of course, with the only exception being her silver necklace. In fact, Trix looked outright stunning… especially when she was bent over the table to light the candles, that is, with her bum straining against the fabric of her jeans. Good god, why did Trix have to be so eager to wear dresses all the time? Especially when trousers accentuated her legs and, well, quite amazing undercarriage so magnificently.

Hermione yelped when she felt a smack against the back of her head.

"Ow!"

"Hermione, don't stare!" admonished her mum. "You're in Church! Save that for home."

Immediately, she felt blood rush to her cheeks. "S-sorry, mum," she muttered.

Her mum sighed. "At least… hide it a little better. You stand out like a meerkat on watch for snakes."

Of course, Trix just had to throw some oil on the fire by turning her head to wink at her and bending over even further.

Vixen.

After almost electrocuting herself a couple of times due to the constant distractions from Bellatrix and her sexy bum, Hermione joined the others for a break. Reverend Frost had had food delivered for the volunteers and the group took a seat near the altar, where more things needed for the mass were set up.

"Ah, it's so good to see you again, Hermione," said Frost. "You haven't been home all that much. Is expensive public school life keeping you busy?"

Ah, yes. The 'once in a life-time opportunity scholarship to an expensive foreign public boarding school'-cover story for Hermione's immediate muggle surroundings was still alive and well it seemed. Once in a lifetime opportunity. What a bloody joke… Though she supposed she should keep up the charade for now.

"You could say that," replied Hermione. "I've spent… entirely too much time there. I want to focus more on family in the near future."

"I can imagine that," said Frost. "The vagaries of modern day life come with all sorts of distractions from things which should be important."

Reverend Frost had been running the Church for as long as she could remember, and was always someone who meant well. His head turned to Bellatrix. "And you, young lady, thank you for selflessly helping out with our preparations. I didn't quite catch your name."

"It's Bellatrix," she replied with her usual high sense of self-pride. "Bellatrix Black."

"Bellatrix, is it? Such an usual name," Frost replied. "Are you one of Hermione's friends from the boarding school?"

Though there was definitely no malice in it, the way Frost said the word 'friend' made it clear to Hermione that he knew something was going on between them. Well, either that, or he had seen Hermione staring at Trix' arse as if she were a gobsmacked meerkat earlier.

"Hm," nodded Bellatrix enthusiastically. "So when are we bringing in the big crucifix? These ones here seem too small."

"Big crucifix?" Frost raised an eyebrow. "I don't catch your meaning."

Hermione bit her lip. "Trix… please…"

"For the live crucifixion tonight!" Bellatrix raved. "I mean, it will need to be big enough to hold a person's weight. Will you be hammering in the nails?"

Frost blinked once. Twice. "Uhm…"

Hermione groaned and covered her face with her palms for a moment. "Forgive Trix. She… she's had a pagan upbringing. A very sheltered pagan upbringing."

"Hm," Bellatrix nodded again. "When I entered the Church, I looked for a plate to give an offering of copper or tin, but couldn't find any. I meant no disrespect."

"That's, uhm, quite alright," said Frost. "And we don't do live crucifixions, good heavens no. Tonight we celebrate our Lord's birth, not his sacrifice."

Thankfully for Hermione's sanity, food nipped any further conversation in the bud. After digging into their sandwiches, Bellatrix started to whisper in Hermione's ear. "So, your mum has been telling me some more about this Jesus chap and I found it very surprising to hear that he was a wizard."

"What?!" Hermione hissed back. "That's nonsense, Jesus wasn't a wizard!"

"Turning water into wine? Or bread into fish?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "Those are beginner transfiguration cantrips a six-year old could do without a wand! The walking over water is more advanced stuff, but certainly not hard. Watch."

Before Hermione could stop her, Bellatrix made some subtle finger movements. Almost immediately, the fond of holy water turned bright red.

"Trix! Stop it!"

Again, the subtle movements were made. The plate of hosts, out and prepared for the evening, had been transformed into a plate of smoked kippers.

"Trix!"

"Hah," chuckled Bellatrix. "I am your God now, priest!"

Thankfully, the rest of the day went on without incident, even if there was a lot of confusion where the never-ordered plate of smoked kippers had suddenly come from. In the end, it didn't make much difference for the hungry volunteers. That evening, Hermione and her family, as a well as Bellatrix, made their way to the Church for evening mass. The Church itself was alive with the light of the many candles and many people from around the neighbourhood.

For the most part, Hermione was worried that Bellatrix would make a spectacle of herself in some way, but came to regret those thoughts and felt more than a little ashamed for having them. Trix looked on and listened intently, despite her disappointment at lack of live crucifixion. Reverend Frost's sermon about the importance of family might have had something to do with it too.

When it was time for the carols and hymns, Hermione opened her song book and was surprised that Bellatrix participated. Apparently, singing was far less embarrassing when she wasn't center stage and could have her voice disappear into the choir.

But Hermione still heard it. Hermione heard it loud and clear. Though Bellatrix obviously didn't know the words or the songs, she caught on quickly and went with the flow. That beautiful voice was like a beacon to her. In fact, she almost didn't notice the subtle movement from Bellatrix' eyes. Goodness… was Trix checking her out? It took her a few moments to realize that she was indeed, but just far more subtle about it than Hermione ever was.

God, what a day.

So instead, she would just focus on enjoying the mass and Bellatrix' wonderful voice, and would focus on those very kissable lips later on in private.

Yes, inviting each other to their family's end of year celebration had been a very good idea indeed.