Breaking the Window

Chapter 50: New Beginnings

"I'm just taking it day by day," said Hermione as she lay on the sofa staring at the ceiling. The room was quiet, well-lit and lined with furniture that was at least a hundred years old. She wasn't sure if it was some sort of rule that a therapist's office would be lined with overstocked bookcases, but she definitely appreciated the calming effect it had on her.

"And today is a very special day for you, isn't it?" asked Keeva. Keeva, sat next to the sofa in a chair, spoke with a distinct Irish accent and was constantly scribbling on notepad. Keeva had been her therapist for about four months and she had build up quite a bond of trust with her over that time.

"Hogwarts graduation," chuckled Hermione. "Though I suppose it's more Trix' big day."

Oh-uh. Keeva put her pen down. Hermione glanced sideways and could tell that Keeva had heard something in her voice by the look she was giving her. "Full honestly, Hermione," Keeva reminded her.

Hermione sighed. "It's simply a fact that, when it comes to magical talent, skill and ability, Trix is objectively my superior."

"That was hard for you to admit, wasn't it?"

"Oh, you have no idea," Hermione chuckled for a moment. "I know Trix, I love her to death and I don't begrudge her the tremendous honour giving the graduation valedictorian speech. But part of me still thinks it should have been me standing there."

Keeva cocked her head. "Do you resent Bellatrix for it?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "Maybe, on some level," she said. "We go well together, we work well together, but there's always been a slight level of competition between us… okay, stop giving me this look… it was more than slight, okay? Honesty. I give you honesty."

Keeva chuckled briefly. "With all the work it took to drill open that shell of yours, I will never stop reminding you. Hermione? Do you fear Bellatrix will overshadow you?"

Hermione thought a moment before answering. "Maybe. Once," she said, holding up her right hand. The silver magical prosthetic which she usually covered up with a long black glove. "Cygnus was right about this hand. It's an approximation of one, but not a real one. It's as good as it's going to get. I had to learn how to write and do spellcasting with my non-dominant hand. How I kept up with my schoolwork to be able to graduate this year at all is a small miracle in itself."

"And no mean feat to do in a measure of months," said Keeva. "You should be proud of yourself, Hermione."

"I am, and that's the thing," said Hermione. "This… taught me some important things. All my life I've been trying to fit in, fighting to earn a place for myself, trying to prove myself to others. But my biggest challenge has always been myself. Deep down I've been insecure about everything and it becomes a trap, a downward spiral. Always thinking what I have done wrong, what I could have done differently, how I've failed. Even in my darkest moments, I focused on the wrong things."

"Did Bellatrix made you see otherwise?"

"Yes," Hermione closed her eyes and smiled. "I was trapped in the past, but now I'm focused on the future."

Hermione chuckled for a moment. "Trix is an enigma. She's a prodigy, rightly called the brightest witch of her age, brimming with magical talent. But the path she has chosen for herself, her future, has nothing to do with magic whatsoever. She doesn't even care about the speech, her grades, her schoolwork, never has. But she's bouncing off the walls for next week… when her first book releases."

Keeva smiled. "Yes. 'Girls Out of Time: the true story of Bellatrix Black and Hermione Granger'. I have my copy on pre-order."

"You and the rest of the wizarding world," Hermione snorted. "The book's already in its fourth print run and it hasn't even hit the bookstores yet. She even managed to rope Newt Scamander into writing the foreword. I fear I already told you most of the story the past few months."

"It's alright," said Keeva.

"Am I jealous? Yeah, on some level. Trix managed write a book, do all her schoolwork, work on short horror stories… and she's looking to publish a bundle already I might add… and still sleeps half the day away on weekends. I'm happy for her, but I simply don't know how she does it. Regardless, it was Trix who made me look to the future. To what can be instead of what has been. She has freed me from the trap I built for myself."

"Hermione," Keeva said. "Let's not be too hasty now, hm? You still have quite a road ahead of you. And there's been some bumps along the way."

Hermione sighed. "I hoped you wouldn't bring that up."

Some five weeks ago, after doing so well, Hermione had a severe panic attack after a cauldron exploded in potions. The sound was just too much like the impact sounds of magical artillery used by the Death Eaters and for a moment she was there again. She was shouting, looking for cover and ended up crying in Trix' arms in the middle of class. Though everybody assured her she shouldn't be, the incident left her embarrassed and demoralized. To have come so far and yet be yanked back so easily made her doubt herself even more, to the point that she started entertaining suicidal thoughts again for yet a brief moment.

"I know I have a long road to go," chuckled Hermione. "But no more… dark thoughts… I promise. God, I'll never forget how hard Trix slapped me in the face when I told her I was having those again. Had to be magically enhanced, because it left a mark for an hour."

Hermione closed her eyes and tried to force the tears back. "Without her… If I'd never met her…" she managed while Keeva handed her a Kleenex. "… I sure I would be dead by now. The road I was on before I met her was unsustainable. I was only trying to distract myself but never addressed the real problem. Now I have Trix. Now I have two families who care for me. Trix has been… a beacon. A beacon to guide me out of the darkness. Whenever I feel sad, she is there. Whenever I feel I'm falling back in my old habits, she is there. Whenever I need to be held, she is there."

Keeva chuckled. "Honesty, Hermione."

That made Hermione laugh. "The sex helps too," she shook her head. "The… lots and lots of sex. It's not the core of our relationship, but, god… I fear I might be becoming a full-on sex addict if this keeps up."

"I know Brits prefer not to talk about sex in general…"

"… No sex please, we're British…" Hermione interrupted.

"Quite… but it can be very therapeutic. Especially with a person you're deeply in love with. It gives you focus. Pleasure. Things happen in your brain during sex which bring a lot of positive feelings to the forefront."

"It just feels… tacky to say. I love Bellatrix for her mind, for the person she is, for her her passion, for her quirky sense of humour, for the way she smiles and flips her hair when she's indignant…"

"There's no need to feel that way," said Keeva. "It's exactly the reason why sex with her is so appealing to you. The whole aspect of being together."

It didn't lessen Hermione's embarrassment of having her loins on fire inside her therapist's office at the mere thought of jumping into bed with Trix again later today. And then again after dinner. To think she was a shy nineteen year old virgin until only half a year ago. Making up for lost time, perhaps.

"And what about you, hm?" asked Hermione. "Are you acclimatising?"

"I'm not in therapy here, Hermione," Keeva raised an eyebrow.

"Indulge me," smiled Hermione, turning her head to look at her. "It must be a lot to take in for a muggle."

Keeva put down her pen and notepad. "My cousin's a witch, as you know, so I already knew something of the Wizarding World. It's just that they generally didn't tell us anything else than the major details. So when I was recruited for this program, they just gave me a crash course on magical society and history and then said 'here's a bunch of traumatized kids. Go help them'."

"Not an easy situation to be thrown into," said Hermione.

"The Foundation does its best to help us and, well, a traumatized kid is a traumatized kid and the treatment regimens are mostly the same," said Keeva. "I took this job because I wanted to help people in need. Nobody said it would be easy."

"Well, I'm glad you did," said Hermione as she sat up.

"Indeed, we're making a lot of good progress, Hermione," said Keeva. "And I'll see you again Friday."

"Absolutely," said Hermione as she got up and moved to fetch her coat.

"And, Hermione?" asked Keeva just as Hermione was about to leave the office. "Try not to have sex during the Valedictorian ceremony," Keeva said with a twinkle in her eyes.

Hermione smirked. "No promises."

And so Hermione found herself sat in a compartment of a train as it meandered along the English countryside. Sure, she could have taken the floo network to Manchester, but she had time and it was a nice moment for her self to relax and reflect. Though she fished a book from her backpack, she ended up staring off into the green rolling hills underneath a sunny summer day. Life, indeed, was beautiful and despite the mentioned setbacks, Hermione felt like she was improving. Finally waking up from a nightmare.

A lot had happened since the start of the year.

The fact that therapy was available for her and others at all was thanks to the Bellatrix Foundation. Mental healthcare was unheard of in the Wizarding World, and for centuries the standard method to 'help' someone suffering from mental issues had been to simply lock them away in places like Azkaban. But then there was Druella Black. Druella Black, the woman defeated by the loss, had transformed into a passionate firebrand and had delivered several scathing and inspiring speeches advocating for bringing the field of mental healthcare to the wizarding world.

Of course the Ministry being the Ministry, did all they could to stifle this effort, citing international laws and hiding behind the Statute.

That was until the Grangers won their lawsuit.

Then suddenly the impossible became very much possible.

With the resources of the Bellatrix Foundation and Ministry funding a program was set up to recruit therapists and mental healthcare professionals, mostly muggles with wizarding relatives, from all over the world, give them training and put them to work. Keeva was one of these fine individuals. It pleased Hermione to know that others were now receiving proper care free of charge. Hell, Keeva was the therapist for both Ron and Harry too… though Keeva was no allowed to share details due to doctor-patient confidentiality, the three friends certainly did swap out their sometimes rather confrontational experiences at therapy.

Funny. Keeva didn't mention Hermione's countersuit yet, the one Emily talked her into. Due to the overwhelming evidence of a smear campaign, Hermione had launched her own suit against the Ministry. They had a very strong sense and Hermione had thus far refused any settlement offers. No, this was going to court, everything was going to be public record and she was going to make them bleed. Sure, Hermione was healing, but nobody said she couldn't be spiteful.

Justice for Hermione indeed…

A rather pleasant and quiet ride later, Hermione arrived at Catterborough Woodhouse and quickly found her way to the section of the house where Bellatrix' room was. The end of said wing, which contained the common room and the three rooms once belonging to the Black sisters in their youth, would be her new home starting today. In a multi-generational house where many families could live, sections could be cordoned off to give some privacy. Nymphadora had graciously agreed to move to another room in the house and leave her old room for Hermione and Bellatrix' use. Of course, it would take serious airing and magic to get the weed smell out, but it would make for a very nice office.

Boxes from both her childhood home and Hogwarts with both their belongings had been delivered and had been neatly stacked against the wall, with Zipper's wasp hutch set on top. Her fairy figurines had been carefully packed and it was just a matter of finding a nice way to place them. A designer would be coming by to talk to both of them later in the afternoon to discuss options for room arrangement and furnishing. It would be strange living here in this opulent palace, but she supposed it would be just as strange to ask Bellatrix to move into a council house with her.

For now, she passed the boxes and moved into Bellatrix' room where the dressing room also was. A neatly folded stack of clothing lay waiting for her. A black evening gown would be the foundation and a long black robe with the Gryffindor crest sown onto it would cover it all up during the ceremony. And, of course, it wouldn't be a graduation without a mortar board.

Hermione undressed to put on her evening gown but paused when she looked into the mirror. Her eyes locked onto the glowing crystal around her neck, the crystal from the Fae Realm, now transformed into a magnificent necklace. She admired it for a moment, holding it up for the light to catch through it. She saw the patterns within, almost intoxicating.

"What are you?" Hermione whispered. Rhetorical, of course. Was it a charge? Or, more likely, information. Would she ever know what it was? The very thought of never knowing was infuriating to a bookworm like herself, as was the thought of this alien equivalent to the library of Alexandria reduced to being a decoration. Not much she could do about it, though.

She was about to toss the robe over her head when there was a knock on the door.

"Excuse me, madame Granger," sounded Sebastian from the other side. "Are you decent?"

Hermione tossed down the robe. "Just a moment, Sebastian."

She found the butler patiently waiting for her outside the dressing room. "How can I help?" asked Hermione.

"Master Cygnus is asking for your input at the greenhouse, madame Granger," said Sebastian. "Rather urgently, I might add."

"Alright," said Hermione. "Let's see what this is about."

On the way down to the greenhouse, Hermione reflected on her future. Wizarding universities did not exist and it was usual for young wizards and witches to seek out apprentice-ships with older wizards and witches in chosen fields. Around every graduation there was as flurry of activity as hopeful graduates approached perspective masters. Of course, Hermione was still a controversial figure, despite having won her case. As a result she suspected nobody would want to attach their name to hers. Realizing this sad fact was perhaps one of the underlying causes for Hermione's setback a few weeks ago. That was until Cygnus stepped in, a capable wizard who was beyond caring about politics and saving face. He had agreed to apprentice her on whatever path she would desire.

Which only left her to wonder what path to follow.

The answer came to her after a week of soul-crunching. And that answer was independent research. Catterborough Woodhouse had a greenhouse, though calling it like that would be a misnomer: it was a three-storied, wrought-iron Victorian style indoor garden with enough space to house a small zoo. It had fallen in disuse over the past few decades and Cygnus had agreed to convert it into a massive herbology lab for Hermione. She and Bellatrix had had great success growing some of the seeds from the Fae Realm at Hogwarts and Hermione was planning to repeat that on a much larger scale. There were many seeds she had picked up from the Fae Realm which she hadn't shared with the world or attempted to grow yet. A perfect starting point.

When she stepped into the greenhouse, goblin construction crews were hard at work dividing the greenhouse into sections, adding additional staircases and laying the pipe-networks necessary for the irrigation system. Among the sounds of construction, she could hear the goblin foreman raising his voice to explain some sort of problem to Cygnus over the hammering, welding and sawing.

"Ah, there you are!" Cygnus called over. "Could you talk mister Rankras here? He's encountered some kind of problem here and this is all rather beyond me."

Rankras, clad in overalls and looking rather rough, was leagues different than his banking cousins and endlessly more honest. He and his crew were hard at work to get everything ready and as soon as Hermione was in earshot, the goblin lay down the blueprints and tapped it with his finger. "As I was explaining to mister Black here," said Rankras. "Plans got one of the mains running along the room, but to put it where you want it, we'd have to drill big holes through four boughs keeping this rounded roof up. Wrought-iron is soft metal and there's already holes in them by design. Any more in the wrong places will weaken the structure. Won't be next week or even next year, but if we do that it'll eventually send the whole thing crashing down."

"I see the problem," said Hermione. "What do you propose?"

Rankras pointed to the blueprint. "Route the pipe to the middle of the structure and hang it from underneath the boughs. Shore up the undersection of the boughs with some steel pins. It'll easily hold the weight and maintain water pressure. Could be a bit unsightly, but there'll be only some extra material cost and you won't have to worry about your greenhouse collapsing on top of you."

"I couldn't tell if moving that pipe would have negative effects on the way you set up the biomes in the greenhouse," added Cygnus. "Technology and I… don't get along."

"Don't worry about it," said Hermione. "Rankras, I defer to your judgment. You're the professional here. Do what you think is needed."

Rankras seemed surprised for a moment, then grinned slightly. Apparently he wasn't used to being treated in a trustworthy matter. "Right you are, then. The boys and I will deliver on time and on budget, as promised."

As the goblins went back to work, Cygnus rubbed the back of his head. "I apologize for disturbing you, but I wanted to check with you. Honestly, all this talk about pipes, water pressure, structural integrity, branch values and pump strengths… All I know about pipes is that if I turn a valve, water appears."

"Think nothing of it," smiled Hermione as she saw her new herbology lab taking shape. She was going to do great things here. Research and discovery and, well, there was something deeply cathartic about making things grow.

Of course, there was also the one patch which had been claimed by Nymphadora, as the small sign which read 'KEEP OUT!' underneath a cartoonishly drawn skull and bones. Nymphadora had a surprisingly effective green thumb when it came to growing cannabis. Hermione was happy to grandfather in this one patch of soil for Nymphadora's personal use, especially since Dora was more than happy to share some tips on cultivating plants underneath heat lamps with her.

"TIENS!" sounded behind them. Druella Black, dressed in a fine robe, strode into the greenhouse looking rather less than amused. "Why are you two not dressed yet? The graduation ceremony starts in ten minutes!"

Cygnus leaned on his cane, looking rather sheepishly. "I, uh, there was an issue…"

Hermione almost gulped. "… the construction crew needed input…"

"Excuses, excuses!" huffed Druella. "To your dressing room maintenant! Vite! Vite vite vite vite vite!"

In less than five minutes, Hermione returned for her dressing room. Clad in robe and mortar board on her head, the family made their way to Hogwarts by floo. There, all the Seventh year students mulled about clad in robes and mortar boards with their families gathered in the Great Hall. Of course, Hermione's mother gave her some scolding of her own for being late, while Nymphadora seemed to be admiring the massive lens on her father's family camera. Andromeda was in conversation with McGonagall, while Hermione surmised that Bellatrix was likely backstage preparing for her speech.

Among the students mulled a slew of familiars, mostly cats, rats and toads, as well as the occasional dog as these had been more recently allowed to be kept by students. As were… four wasps.

Bellatrix and Hermione had been trend-setters in a way. The giant wasps were found to be affectionate and loyal companions, while the hive now established in Belgium had been sending out solitary wasps to learn more about the new world they had found themselves in. The two aligned perfectly and meant that the wasps were far more intelligent than they had initially been given credit for. In fact, Bellatrix and Hermione had been planning a summer trip to the Ardennes for Zipper to visit his friends.

The four wasps were all clearly individual characters. Tank was a wasp easily twice the size of Zipper and flew rather awkwardly at times. Tank was always eating and, while parked on the head of his equally massive companion, was already eyeing the buffet set up to the side of the Great Hall. Rosie was a smaller wasp and was attracted to bright colours, such as the Gryffindor house banner. She often flew off to inspect red-coloured items. Salvador was a more introspective wasp, didn't really like crowds and seemed far less playful than the other wasps: he reminded Hermione of an old cat somewhat. Lastly, Wendy was a friendly wasp who liked people and enjoyed decorating herself with smears of pollen and dirt.

It wasn't long until the ceremony began. McGonagall went up to the podium. Her mere presence there stopped the cacophony of sounds immediately. McGonagall scraped her throat to begin her speech.

"Gathered students, families and friends," she started. "Since my tenure as Head Mistress of this fine institution started, days like today have become those I treasure the most. For it is graduation where we teachers see the fruits of our labour. It is where we see the students we have nurtured and guided spread their wings and fly towards their future. It is my hope that you will remember your time at Hogwarts fondly, remember the friendships you have forged, the knowledge you have gained and the lessons you have learned as a guiding force for the rest of your life. Magic is not a right, it is a privilege. And it was must always be used wisely and responsibly. Today marks the end of one journey and the start of a new one. Not to diminish all your accomplishments, but there is always one student whose talents stand above all others. A student who has achieved the most. A student who will be granted the honour of addressing his or her peers during this ceremony. This year, the honour belongs to Bellatrix Black."

Bellatrix appeared, looking rather awkward in her long robe and mortar board. She strode to the podium while Zipper, usually sat on her head, attempted to balance himself on top of the mortar board without causing either to fall off of her head. Bellatrix took the stage through applause and, again, Hermione felt that pang of jealously. Indeed, that could have been her up there.

"Well," said Bellatrix just as her dad was snapping pictures next to Hermione. "I'll keep this short since I'm reasonably sure you've all had quite enough of this hellhole right now and want to get this over with as quickly as possible."

A laughter went through the crowd and Hermione could just see the slightest hint of McGonagall's expression turning into a flash of annoyance before her smile returned.

Bellatrix took a deep breath. "I've… had an interesting year to say the least," she said. "I'd like to tell you all about my accomplishments, achievements or whatever, but, truth be told, I wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't for one person. One girl. I'd likely be dead and buried in a shallow grave without her stubbornness."

Hermione gulped as heads started to turn towards her.

"I was never one to depend on others. Not on friends. Not even on family. Hell, more people depended on me than the other way around. One girl convinced me to look towards the future. And I now have a future. So yeah, I suppose what I really want to say is… sometimes only relying on yourself is not enough. Sometimes you have to let someone else in to make sure you'll have a future," said Bellatrix, eyes now locked with Hermione's. "That someone for me was Hermione Granger. If there's someone like Hermione out there for you, grab her and never let her go."

Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes as she stood there, surrounded by the family she had and the family she found.

Bellatrix smirked briefly. "Also, buy my book, it'll be out next week."

Some laughter went to the crowd and McGonagall handed Bellatrix her diploma. The rest of the ceremony went off without a hitch. Each student was being called up to the podium in alphabetical order to receive applause and a diploma. When it was Hermione's turn, there were the usual cheers, though those of her family seemed loaded and when McGonagall handed her her diploma, she gave her an apologetic smile. Hah, Hermione wondered if she was really that obvious.

The moment she stepped off the podium, Bellatrix grabbed her by the arm. "Come on," whispered Bellatrix. "This'll be going on for a bit."

Hermione was about to say that would be rather rude, but was already being dragged into the corridor. Hermione followed her in silence as they both ran through the corridors, up stairs and towards a much higher ground of the castle. They stopped near a door near McGonagall's office, where Bellatrix squatted near the lock and started fiddling with her wand and… a small mirror? Some fiddling later and the lock opened with a satisfying snick.

"Hah!" chuckled Bellatrix. "Thirty-three years later and McGonagall still hasn't fixed the lock."

Soon, both girls stood on the parapet of one of the highest towers, on a warm sunny day overlooking the lake and the rolling hills. They stood together there for a moment.

"I meant every word I said, you know?" said Bellatrix.

"I think we're each other's future," said Hermione. "You said that you wouldn't be standing here with me. Well, I wouldn't be standing here without you. I don't know where I'd be now without you."

Bellatrix chuckled. "We're quite a pair, aren't we?"

"Quite."

"God, I fucking hate this place. I always fucking hated it," Bellatrix muttered. "AND NOW I'M FREE OF IT FOREVER!"

With a cry of victory, Bellatrix yanked the mortar board from her head and tossed it away with as much force as she could muster, sending it flying into the abyss below while cackling like a witch of old.

Of course, Zipper shot off in said abyss and, mere moments later, teleported back with the mortal board in his mandibles to hand it back to Bellatrix.

Hermione laughed while Bellatrix pouted fiercely. "Zipper!" she sighed.

"He really is a flying dog," Hermione smiled while Bellatrix picked him up and pressed him against her chest.

Bellatrix went silent for a moment. "I wanted you to see this, Hermie. I wanted this to be one of the last places to visit before I never come back here. I spent so much time here back in '68. Came up here to be away from people. Just to think. Sometimes to cry when I was sure no one could see me."

"I'm glad you did," said Hermione. "It's beautiful. You're beautiful. And our future is beautiful."

They turned to each other, their lips touched. Their tongues met. Their passions clashed. They pressed their bodies together as they kissed hungrily, high up in the sky underneath the sun. When they broke their kissed and when Trix was looking at her rather cheekily, wicked thoughts came over Hermione.

"How about…" Hermione husked. "… we head over to the Astronomy tower for a last-chance shag to end all shags?"

Bellatrix grinned, leaned in to whisper in her eyes. "Bugger the Astronomy Tower. I already put down candles, a soft blanket and a bowl of strawberry syrup right around the corner of this very parapet," she whispered. And when the lip of Bellatrix' tongue flicked around her earlobe, Hermione was almost ready to lay Bellatrix down on the ground then and there.

"You… know me far too well, Trix…" Hermione gulped.

Bellatrix let out a brief giggle. "You are slightly predicable."

"Predictable?!" Hermione huffed.

"Slightly," Bellatrix pressed.

There were giggles all the way to the blanket around the corner, which were silenced by kisses, soft sighs and declarations of love as robes and clothes were being shed.

The future looked bright indeed.

XXX

And that ends Breaking the Window. Thank you all for going on this journey with me and I hope you've enjoyed reading the story as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

It won't be the end for our girls as I have plans for a sequel. It likely won't see the light of day until far into 2022, however, as I need a bit of a break and I have plans for another shorter story to work on first.

Until then!