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Chapter 2

Hermione's eyes strained followed the dark shape of Bellatrix's figure as it merged with the shadows of the trees. After a few moments, her body fell to the ground. She got up quickly on shaky legs, wondering if the Death Eater had released her or simply allowed the spell to wear off. She thought she ought to try to pursue Bellatrix, but reason quickly reminded her that this was folly. She could not hope to match Bellatrix's skill at dueling, and Snape was still unconscious. Best she tend to her professor and get them both back to the castle safely. Plus, she wasn't really quite sure what her motivations might be for following the woman, and she didn't trust herself to figure it out on the fly. And also, she reasoned, Bellatrix had probably already disapparated, and the woods were dark and forbidding and dangerous and, and, and. Hermione realized that she having to create a lot of excuses to keep herself from doing something foolhardy. With a sigh, she turned towards her professor.

Hermione made her way over to Snape's ragdoll body and took a moment to examine his unlikely position. It was awkward to see her pompous teacher laid out this way, and she felt an unwelcome chuckle trying to force its way out of her throat. Finally, she knelt down, straightened his robes a bit, and shook his arm.

"Professor? Professor! Please wake up! You've fallen!" Hermione continued to shake at Snape, wondering what kind of mood he'd be in when he awoke.

"Granger?" He peered groggily at her. "What…" He stopped himself. It would not do to appear at a loss to one of his students. He looked around carefully, appraised his surroundings, and continued, "What has happened to you?"

"Me?" Hermione looked down at herself, and noticed that she had rather a lot of leaves and debris on her robes. "I… umm… I fell. I think I slipped and fell on a mushroom while I was looking for the Nox lumineri. I'm so sorry, Professor, but I couldn't find any."

"Ah. You must have been looking a long time, Granger. Doubtless that is why I fell asleep waiting for you. I'm disappointed to see that you have come back empty handed, but at least the forest didn't swallow you up. Now, what are the properties and uses of Nox lumineri?"

"I'm so sorry, Professor. I can't remember. I will be happy to look it up when we return, and I promise I won't forget it!"

"No matter. You probably know it by its muggle name – Foxfire. And it's a fungus, not a plant. You were probably looking for the wrong thing. No doubt it's what you destroyed as you stepped on it."

"Oh! I do know that one!" Hermione began to list the potion uses of the foxfire fungus when Snape stopped her with an upheld hand.

"Enough. You have wasted enough of my time. Let us return to the castle, and you can sort the plants I have gathered."

Hermione was relieved to be able to walk back in silence, though secretly she was amazed at how Snape covered up for himself. However, she supposed he didn't remember anything, as Bellatrix had obliviated him, so his version of events probably made the most sense to him. She spent the rest of the trip thinking about Bellatrix, the Death Eater, the beautiful dark witch. Whenever she replayed the woman's words or actions, Hermione was terrified. "See each other again soon"? "Useful to the Dark Lord"? Did she want to turn Hermione into a Death Eater? Would she torture her when she found out she was a muggle-born?

But just as quickly as the terror came, Hermione would remember the feel of her tongue on her ear, remember it first in the pit of her stomach and then further down, and she would forget the rest. She found herself focusing on Bellatrix's words, "useful to me," and her compliments on Hermione's looks and intelligence. And even though her brain told her to use reason to sort it all out, her stomach muscles clenched in revolt. For the first time, Hermione's brain didn't set the rules, and she didn't know how to get it back in control of the situation.

A list. She needed to write it all down. And tell someone – Harry and Ron, of course. And Dumbledore? She tried to sort all her thoughts out, mulling over what Bellatrix was doing at Hogwarts, and what she had said about Voldemort, and how did Snape figure into all of this? If he wasn't any longer a Death Eater, why didn't she just kill him? AND kill Hermione? And why did Bellatrix lick her earlobe? Did she like women? Did Hermione? Hermione might like women, she wasn't sure. There WAS the one Ravenclaw witch who was a few years older than Hermione and had caught her eye during her third year… Stop! Back to business! Evil Bellatrix! Evil Voldemort! Trying to turn Hermione into a Death Eater!

The tornado of thoughts and quivery feelings that swirled around Hermione made her a rather incompetent plant sorter, much to Snape's disgust. It didn't take long for him to send her back to her dormitory, with the warning that she would owe him two nights of work if she didn't get him her paper on foxfire by lunch the next day. Hermione was thrilled to flee his dank room, though her thoughts had not settled in the slightest. Worst of all, her friends were all asleep by the time she returned, so she had no one to work things out with.

Even though it was late, Hermione sat up in bed with a parchment on her lap and began to write. She created two columns: A: Bellatrix at Hogwarts? and B: What Bellatrix wants with me? Into column A she placed all of her thoughts and questions about Bellatrix and what she might have been doing in the Forbidden Forest, her relationship with Snape, what Snape might be up to, what Voldemort was up to and so on. She forced herself to finish these notes before starting on Column B.

Despite her discipline, Hermione found that she didn't have much to write in Column B. What did Bellatrix want with her? All she could come up with was that Bellatrix thought Hermione might be a good candidate for learning dark magic, as she was intelligent. She also thought that Bellatrix might be interested in her for other reasons, but as much as that idea had rooted itself in her belly, she didn't write it down. While she wanted to show this list to Ron and Harry, she wasn't sure if she wanted them to know about THAT. Not when she didn't even know what it was herself.

Hermione rolled the parchment up and tried to go to sleep. An hour of tossing and turning followed. Nothing she tried to think of, no memorized passages from her textbooks or recitations of Shakespeare, would calm her riotous heartbeat whenever she thought of dark curls, red lips, and a warm tongue across her ear. Hermione finally fell asleep late in the night, curled tightly in a ball and rubbing her earlobe gently.

A/N: This might be a bit slow for some, but one of the reasons I've always been drawn to a Bellamione pairing was because of the juxtaposition of Bella's passion and Hermione's reason. Don't worry, we'll get there!