Black Manor
Hermione had spent the day mostly doing what she had been told by Bellatrix before the older witch had left for work. She had to help Iggy with his chores, much to the elf's chagrin. It was one of the few times since leaving for Hogwarts that her muggle upbringing had actually come in useful. Most of the doors in Black Manor were closed and locked against entry but there were still plenty of things to dust or sweep. Iggy would pop in from time to time to give her more instructions but for the most part the Gryffindor was left to her own devices.
Just after lunch she had gone into Bellatrix's bedroom to put away a pile of clean clothes and change the bedsheets. The young woman's natural curiosity resurfaced away from the intense presence of the dark witch and she walked around the room, looking at items that were left lying around. Seemingly Bellatrix wasn't tidy but neither was she particularly messy; a small pile of books were on the nightstand, a partially read wizarding novel along with a few high level charms texts. Across the room was an open jewellery box, its contents spilling out onto the polished surface of her dressing table.
Hermione had bunched up the sheets and tossed them into a partly full washing basket. But it was the act of actually making the bed that caused her a mini panic attack. Smoothing white sheets over the firm mattress had reminded her what the older woman wanted and she started to hyperventilate. Without considering the ramifications, she threw open the bedroom door and began to run down the stairs. The muggleborn had seen the front door to the manor when Bellatrix had left that morning and had walked past it several times that day but this time she grabbed the brass handle with the intention of opening the door and fleeing.
For a second nothing happened and then there was a blinding flash of light. Hermione found herself thrown across the hallway and landed with an almighty thud. The pain was instantaneous and extreme. The girl was terrified to raise her arm to look at her right hand, feeling like Paul Atredies after being tested with the Gom Jabbar; she thought that her fingers would be burnt away to bone. The truth was not nearly as bad as she'd imagined, but the damage was still considerable; her entire hand was swollen and blistered, the embossed details from the handle were charred into her skin.
Hermione began to sob and cradled the arm to her chest. In response to the magical discharge Iggy appeared and he looked genuinely distressed at the sight of her pain. The elf helped her to the kitchen sink and submerged her arm in cool water. "This is blood magic, Iggy cannot helps." The Gryffindor was suddenly, sickly aware that she had made everything worse; not only had she not managed to escape but her mistress would know that she made the attempt. Hermione dreaded the thought that the reasonable Bellatrix she had seen so far would be replaced by the maniacal and merciless demon who had tortured her at Malfoy manor. The water was the only thing that even remotely helped the pain and Hermione was still huddled over the sink when Bellatrix returned from the Ministry.
The front door of the manor shut with a loud thud, "Honey, I'm home!" Bellatrix cackled with amusement at her own joke. She was half hoping that the girl would respond to the greeting, but it was really too soon for Granger to meet her at the door of her own volition.
There was a long pause and the witch could feel her irritation rising, then she heard a reply. "I'm in the kitchen." The four words held a considerable amount of strain and it sounded like the girl had been crying.
Bellatrix stepped into the kitchen; war honed reflexes immediately noting the location of the two inhabitants, the mudblood at the sink and the elf stirring a large pot on the stove. Both sets of body language showed nervousness but there was more to Hermione's fidgeting than simple nerves. The girl was pale, sweating and could barely sit still because she was writhing in agony. The torturer's experienced eye could judge quite accurately how much Granger was suffering and she resisted the urge to smirk.
"Someone has been a silly silly girl." The dark witch sing-songed as she sauntered across the room to the sink.
The tear reddened eyes that lifted to meet black ones were glassy with pain and Hermione gave a whimper. "I didn't mean to. I… I got scared and I just ran. I wasn't thinking."
A firm hand gripped Hermione's arm just below the elbow and pulled her hand out of the water. The girl tried hard not to fight the older witch but the pain was debilitating and she forced it back into the liquid. "It's self-inflicted as a result of your own stupidity, I did warn you about the wards."
"I know."
"So, breathe through the pain, it's all in your head, you can control it." Those black eyes bore into Hermione's, hypnotising, demanding. "Take your hand out of the water and give it to me." The words were sharp and unsympathetic but matter of fact rather than holding the cruelty or glee that the young witch feared.
The Gryffindor exhaled shakily and thrust her injured arm in Bellatrix's direction. She winced anxiously when the older woman pulled a familiar silver knife from the bodice of her dress but this time the witch cut the thicker part of her own hand and used her blood, dripping it onto the cursed flesh. Full lips muttered an incantation in Latin that Hermione couldn't quite hear, much less understand but the pain faded away slowly and the skin healed.
It was only when the pain subsided that Hermione realised the sheer proximity of the older woman; one of Bellatrix's hands still gripped her forearm and the other was resting on the edge of the sink behind Hermione's backside. She was trapped between the lace covered arms; her naked shoulder grazing the fabric of Bellatrix's dress with every breath that the dark witch took. Their eyes were locked in an intense gaze for an indeterminable amount of time.
Hermione's over-stimulated nerves began to recover from the pain, she had stopped shaking but was still sweating. Bellatrix swooped in closer and licked a trail up the girl's neck, tasting her skin for the first time. The young witch shuddered in reaction to the sensation and closed her eyes. The raven haired woman chuckled darkly and grazed her teeth over the delicate skin, before taking a step back. "Go and take a shower." It was the second time that Bellatrix had broken an intense moment with a seemingly inconsequential order. Hermione didn't know what impulse made her do it but she was grateful for the respite.
Dinner was smelling wonderful when Hermione stepped out of the little shower in the mudroom. She was exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster ride of the day. Her hand was slightly reddened still but not at all painful and she felt a lot better for the respite. Bellatrix's reaction to her predicament had been far better than Hermione could have expected and it was fucking with her head.
Hermione dried herself off and still wishing for clothes, she opened the door. The young woman immediately saw a word appear on the wall opposite in a bold silver scrawl, 'library'. She sighed and walked back to the room where she had learnt about her new destiny.
"Enter." Bellatrix was happy to see that the girl was naturally so polite but had been more pleased to see the re-emergence of her inner fire earlier in the kitchen. Hermione cautiously stepped into the room with curious eyes, trying to read the older witch's mood.
She didn't need to be commanded to kneel and did so at Bellatrix's feet when the Slytherin nodded at the floor. "Now before dinner, we will start learning some skills that you will need when we start going out in public. For example, I have allowed you to ask me questions and given you some freedoms. This will not be allowed in public, and your actions need to become automatic… or we may both suffer the consequences."
Hermione nodded. "I understand." Knowing intrinsically that embarrassing Bellatrix would be something that she would deeply regret.
"... Mistress." The older witch said quietly, her tone soft but demanding.
Full lips parted slightly, before she spoke, "I understand Mistress."
"Good girl." An elegant finger brushed her cheek and once again Hermione fought the urge to turn into the caress. Bellatrix smiled, then picked up a collar and lead from a side table. The girl's body language shifted in an instant, "Problem Pet?" Bellatrix drawled.
Hermione bit her lip, hard, collecting her thoughts. "I… I can behave without a leash, Mistress."
Bellatrix raised an eyebrow, consideringly and dark eyes interrogated earnest chocolate brown ones.
"Please?" The young woman opted for sincerity rather than begging or pleading.
The older witch placed the items back on the table. "I'll indulge you for now Pet, but that won't always be the case."
The girl nodded; she probably should have saved Bellatrix's goodwill for another occasion but she really didn't want to be dragged around like an animal. "Thank you."
They had spent almost an hour focussing on the position where Hermione would walk when they were in public; to the left and a pace behind. The young witch realised that without a leash, she would need to pay constant attention to her owner's movements. She was expected to stop when the older woman did but surprisingly Bellatrix didn't want her to kneel in public unless asked to do so; she suspected that it was a power trip for the Slytherin but when she had asked about it Bellatrix had cackled, "You are mine! You kneel for me, not for anyone else."
Hermione had found a small window seat down the hallway from the kitchen where she had eaten her meals with Iggy, it looked out over an overgrown herb garden that was clearly untended. She was completely exhausted from the emotional turmoil of the day and, without much to read, she had decided to spend whatever free time she had looking out at the rather bleak grounds, letting the passing clouds hypnotise her into a deep meditation.
That was how Bellatrix found the girl an hour or so after dinner. She was sitting on the window cushion, back resting against the wall and, although her head was turned towards the garden, her long eyelashes were closed, the evening sun was bringing out highlights in her chestnut hair. Hermione's legs were up and both hands were wrapped around her shins, her chin resting on her knees. The tattooed house sigil on her forearm was clearly visible, and although she was still a little thin, at that moment she looked to Bellatrix as close to perfection as anything she had ever seen.
"What are you doing?"
Hermione gave a start and turned to face the older woman. "Working on my occlumency," it never occurred to her to lie.
That was possibly the last thing that Bellatrix expected the girl to say, for a moment she stood in silence. "Severus said that you were an insufferable swot…" She dropped her tone to mimic that of the Potions Professor's sardonic drawl.
"Normally he calls me a know-it-all."
"That's ridiculous, no one can possibly know everything."
"That's what I said." For the first time Bellatrix heard the girl laugh and it lit up her whole face.
The older woman moved over to sit next to Hermione, noticing immediately that the young witch didn't scoot away from the contact and allowed Bellatrix's body to touch her bare thigh. Black eyes looked out at the garden and the Slytherin rested a casual hand on Hermione's hip.
"How is your legilimency?"
"Only theoretical, I've read a little about it but never had the chance to put it into practice."
Bellatrix hummed in response, inwardly thinking that having a slave trained in mental arts would be rather useful because no one would think to guard their thoughts against a slave, especially once they became more commonplace. However, she needed to be assured of the girl's loyalty before she would train her and today's events had proven that trust was still a way off - for both of them.
"Earlier when you tried to run away, you said that you were scared. Why?"
Hermione changed position; sitting up next to Bellatrix, so that she could look into dark eyes for a moment, trying to determine if the older witch was serious or playing a head game. "I was changing your sheets and it all got a bit much." Her fists were white with the pressure of how tightly she was clenching them. "It seems stupid now but I panicked."
Bellatrix dropped her head slightly, not wanting the girl to see her amusement, how like a virgin it was, to focus on the bed - rather than the act itself. "If it helps at all Pet, being in my bed is a privilege that you are going to have to earn."
Hermione's jaw dropped, "But I thought… oh." She looked at her hands, fidgeting, obviously weighing up the information she had been given and slotting it into her view of sexuality. In her head, she had always imagined that losing her virginity would take place on pristine sheets in a bed, with someone she cared about. She had some naughtier fantasies, that was true, but she had kept them locked away in the deepest recesses of her mind.
Then she looked up into Bellatrix's almost black eyes; could see the older woman's widened pupils and could feel the slightly uneven breath against her own face. Hermione tensed when a possessive hand slid onto her knee and then ever so slowly dragged upwards, moving towards the inner aspect of her thigh. The juxtaposition of desires was like torture; the young woman wanting to clamp her legs together, while fighting her body's urge to open them, skin tightening into goosebumps and she began to tremble violently, pulling away.
"D'you overthink everything?"
"I… yes, always."
Bellatrix chuckled, "I rather enjoy your honesty, it's refreshing." She immediately spotted the young woman's trepidation when she unholstered her wand. "I'm going to make this a little easier for you." Using magic, she lifted the girl up and positioned Hermione atop her lap, one leg either side of her own. The Gryffindor gasped at the completely alien feeling of her naked thighs straddling another person. Another minute wave of the wand; bound Hermione's wrists together in front, before pulling them firmly upwards, stretching her body in a way that left her completely exposed and vulnerable.
"How is this easier?" Shrieked the young witch, struggling against the bonds that held her captive.
Tossing the wand aside Bellatrix put a steadying hand on Hermione's hip and, with the other, lightly ran nails across her taut stomach, feeling the girl start to breathe faster. "Because this way Pet; you don't have to think or fight the way that your body reacts to my touch, all you have to do is feel what it is that I do to you." Hermione sagged into the restraint, wanting to resist but having no way of doing so and no idea how to stop whatever was about to happen. When she felt the young witch surrender, Bellatrix leant forward and cooed in her ear, "Good girl, don't fight, just feel."
The Gryffindor closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on anything other than the gentle scratch of Bellatrix's bodice against her nipples or the tantalising play of fingernails up and down her ribs. The older witch smirked when she registered the early stages of the girl's arousal and she pressed her lips to Hermione's collarbone, sucking on the skin and leaving a faint mark. The young woman gritted her teeth together, willing herself not to make a sound in response.
One hand moved downwards to explore the shapely curve of Hermione's backside; the right slid around the front to cup a full breast, fingers immediately going to work tugging at an erect nipple. The Gryffindor arched her spine, head falling back and for a few minutes she forgot about everything, except sensation. Bellatrix's mouth began to trace a path of fire; lips, teeth and tongue exploring the delicate skin around the young woman's throat. Hermione's hips canted forward in an unconscious needy motion and she gasped out in a whimper.
Bellatrix murmured against her skin, "Relashio," and the bonds securing Hermione's hands vanished. There was a moment of silence, absolute stillness where neither witch moved, then the Slytherin ducked her head and took the nipple she had been toying with between her lips and sucked, hard. The girl cried out this time, dropped her hands and for an insane moment tangled them in Bellatrix's hair.
The older woman moved her now free hand across Hermione's stomach and let her fingers drift down towards what she imagined was, by this point, a rather damp pussy. When the Gryffindor felt pressure on the curls between her legs, she stiffened again. "No. I don't want…" The protest sounded faint, even to her own ears and she very much doubted that it would make the Slytherin stop.
Bellatrix bit down, effectively cutting off the words as she moaned, hips giving an involuntary jerk at the painful pleasure on the sensitive nipple. The dark witch grasped Hermione's hand in her own and forced it between the young woman's legs, letting the girl feel her own wetness. "Yes you do, feel just how much you want… how much you need." The older woman pulled back, watching the play of emotions on pretty features and smirked when she felt fingers, trapped against her own, begin to move against slippery folds - hesitant at first but then with more gusto.
Black eyes locked on chocolate ones and when full lips parted, Bellatrix had the uncharacteristic urge to capture them with her own but she fought it down. Hermione gave another quiet moan and rocked against their hands. The older witch reached up to grab a handful of chestnut hair, tugging back a little roughly, testingly and wasn't really surprised when the girl's breathing sped up in response. She leant forward to capture a soft earlobe between her teeth and nipped, knowing that the younger woman would be able to hear her own erratic breathing against her ear. Bellatrix moved back to her throat and left her mark in earnest, taking her time.
Hermione's legs tightened and she let out a soft keening noise. The fingers moving alongside hers began to work faster and Bellatrix let out her own low moan, having the naked girl pleasuring herself on her lap was incredibly erotic. "Oh Pet. You're doing so well." The young witch convulsed with a grunt; trembling thighs locked tightly around Bellatrix's lap and a rush of liquid coated their fingers. "Such a good girl," the praise was issued in a near purr.
The hand in Hermione's hair shifted into a softer, stroking motion as Bellatrix soothed the shaking woman atop her. The older witch pulled back to watch the emotions unfolding in brown eyes, as reality began to sink back in. Firm but gentle pressure pulled the Gryffindor's hand from between her legs and Bellatrix brought trembling digits to her own mouth, tasting the essence of Hermione's orgasm from the girl's fingers.
The young witch knew that her eyes were wide and her lips parted in shock at what had just happened. "Want a taste?" asked Bellatrix, pressing her own damp fingers against the girl's full lower lip. Hermione's tongue darted out, touching but then she pulled back, shaking her head shyly. Bellatrix smiled indulgently, watching the girl try and ultimately fail to regain her composure. "What do you need?"
Those four words were some of the most shocking that Hermione had ever heard, considering who had just uttered them but judging from the likewise incredulous expression on Bellatrix's face, she hadn't intended to make the offer. The Gryffindor gave a wry noise that was just as much a sob as it was a chuckle, "I could do with a hug."
The head of house Black gave a deep sigh; there was a brief pause where she considered the other witch, then opened her arms. Moving with all the wariness of a trapped animal, Hermione shifted her weight and leaned into the embrace. Time passed; the young woman rested her forehead against a slender shoulder, breathing in the scent of cinnamon and tightened her grip. Bellatrix just leant her cheek on chestnut curls and listened as the naked girl's breathing evened out, eventually slowing as she fell asleep.
"Iggy." The elf appeared with a pop, nodding understandingly as she shushed him before pointing at the young woman, then in the direction of the upper floors. They both disapparated with his elf magic, leaving Bellatrix alone. The witch looked at her fingers, the damp patch on her skirt and groaned, putting her head in her hands - smelling the intoxicating aroma on her skin. The evening had gone nothing like she had planned; she'd intended to take the girl right there on the window seat, to be knuckle deep inside her whether Granger knew she wanted it or not.
She spoke aloud to herself in the silence of the hallway, "What the fuck was that Bella?"
Hermione woke up in the predawn gloom, a little chilled where the blanket had fallen down exposing her naked body. It took her a few minutes to remember what had happened the previous evening and she sat up in shock. She wasn't surprised that her body had reacted to the more experienced woman's touch, she'd heard of that happening, but Bellatrix's actions had. Coaxing and goading her into… masturbating to a climax; long fingers moving with and guiding Hermione's own against her clit, words of praise murmured against her skin.
Hermione had touched herself before, of course she had, but spending much of her formative years sleeping in dormitories, not to mention the last year in a tent with two boys - had meant it was something she did rarely and often whilst burying her face into a pillow to ensure that she orgasmed in silence. What she had done last night was completely unprecedented and had her blushing madly at the recollection.
And then incredibly Voldemort's lieutenant had comforted her, held her when Hermione had asked. Presumably even ensured that she had gotten to bed safely too, though she suspected that Iggy had actually moved her. It made no sense to the young witch; she knew that after weeks of complete and utter isolation, that her own conflicted feelings towards Bellatrix were to be expected, especially when the older woman showed her any degree of kindness but the Slytherin's behaviour was completely illogical.
But then again, Hermione thought, what did she really know about Bellatrix Black?
Was she beginning to see the woman behind the monster?
She groaned and yanked the blanket over her head, only to pull them back down when an audible thump sounded from the floor at the base of the mattress. Hermione knew that sound, had heard it thousands of times - a book had just thumped down onto a hard surface, having been knocked off by her movement. She had always been fascinated by new books; the magic of things she was yet to discover and even the 'educational' material that Bellatrix had given her thus far had provided a distraction.
Her reward this time was a thick novel; at first glance, it was some kind of gothic fiction set in eighteenth century Wizarding Vienna. She turned on the lamp, within a couple of pages becoming completely hooked by the detailed descriptions, engaging characters and evocative prose. "I must've been a really good girl," Hermione snorted at her own comment and lost track of time.
Bellatrix grunted as the laces of her corset were pulled tight, then spoke, "Did you stay up all night reading again?"
Hermione threaded a series of tiny metal hooks to secure the criss cross of ribbon, then tugged the laces a bit higher so that she could finish tightening the garment. "No, I woke up early… and then started reading."
"Careful, I don't want you falling asleep on me two days in a row." The words sounded teasing, a theory somewhat confirmed when Bellatrix chuckled faintly. "What do you think of the novel?"
"It's brilliant. Incredibly well written and the characters are so detailed that you can't help but be drawn in by their story." Nimble fingers knotted the ribbon into a bow that was rather neater than the one that Hermione had managed the day before, likely because today her hands were not shaking.
"Those books were Andromeda's favourites when she was a teenager." Bellatrix said in a thoughtful tone, reminiscing for a moment, before she turned and walked over to the dressing table. She sat down, picked up an old fashioned silver hairbrush and handed it to Hermione.
"And yours?" The young witch lifted the brush and began to run it through the older woman's impossibly thick curls, wondering if Bellatrix would answer her.
"My own tastes run more to non-fiction but I can appreciate good literature."
Hermione just continued brushing, thinking idly that if the dark witch didn't use liberal amount of charms and hair potions - it would have taken her forever to finish the job. "But can you curl up in bed with a copy of Dirac's Arithmancy?"
"I have done." There was a pause, and a dark gaze met Hermione's in the mirror, "And I am fairly sure that you have also."
"Touche." Job complete, Hermione placed the brush carefully back on the table, nudging it carefully back into position next to a matching mirror and comb. Part of her wondered where Bellatrix had gotten all of the information about her but the more logical part of her brain realised that the older woman had clearly built a psychological profile of her. The Gryffindor felt a burning need to ask why. Was it solely to manipulate and break her or did she have something else in mind? She was desperate to know what Black's final game plan was but she said nothing, instead she remained silent while a charged tension built up in the room.
The Slytherin turned on the stool, slowly moving to face the younger woman, and let one knee fall to the side, effectively opening her thighs. Hermione couldn't help the way that her gaze shifted, moving up pale legs to the skimpy black lace at the apex of shapely thighs. The young woman snapped her eyes back to the comparative safety of a dark gaze. "It's alright to look Pet."
"I…I." Chestnut curls bounced as she shook her head.
"I want you to look." Bellatrix's words were soft, mesmerising, "To need, to desire." She reached out; running a single finger across Hermione's stomach, dipping the tip into her belly button and then across to her hip before withdrawing. "But at this moment, do you know what I want most of all?"
The young woman swallowed hard, and then shook her head mutely, inexplicably dry lips parted.
Silence hung between them for a moment. "Right now, I want you on your knees..."
Hermione didn't expect the words to have such an effect on her body and a rush of desire flooded through her system. She looked into eyes that were even darker than usual and bit her lip. Bellatrix waited, showing more patience that most people would credit her with.
Hermione dropped to her knees, hardly believing what was about to happen. This wasn't just about a show of submission, unlike the previous times she had knelt before the older woman. She stared up at Bellatrix; eyes wide, nostrils flaring, her breathing coming in rapid pants.
Once again a soothing hand slid into her hair, fingernails softly scratching at her scalp. "Can you show me how good a girl you really are? Make me feel the way you felt last night?"
It was a nexus, a crossroads of sorts, the point of no return and Hermione knew it. Another second ticked past and she made her choice. The Gryffindor took a leap of faith and nodded, never breaking eye contact with Bellatrix. A single word from the older witch banished her underwear, leaving Hermione with an up close and personal view. She dropped her gaze to Bellatrix's neat, shaven sex, shocked at the evidence of her obvious arousal.
The Gryffindor swallowed hard, leaning forward and then pressed her lips against the inside of Bellatrix's thigh. She could smell the lust practically dripping from her mistress, it was intoxicating. Hermione shifted forward slightly and pressed her nose against the top of Bellatrix's slit, grinning when she heard a harsh intake of breath from above her. The young witch peppered kisses against swollen, damp lips and then began to explore the new landscape.
The older woman's body was so responsive; soft noises escaping her as she arched against Hermione's mouth. She loved when the young witch flattened her tongue, circling her clit several times before doing the same with her entrance. She clenched a fist in chestnut hair when the girl's tongue entered her, then growled out, "Fuck."
Bellatrix's hips rhythmically jerked in response to the stimulus, it has been so long since she had been touched like this and knew she wouldn't last long. Hermione moved upwards, flicking her tongue against an erect clit, applying more pressure when she heard an involuntary cry from above her.
"Use your fingers Pet."
For a crazy moment Hermione debated telling her to say please but bit back the impulse. She ran the nails of her right hand up the inside of Bellatrix's thigh and then through slippery folds. "Here?"
"Yesss," hissed the older witch, then groaned in delight when a single digit slipped inside her, "More." Hermione added a second, thrusting hesitantly at first but more confidently when hips surged up to meet her hand.
Bellatrix's clit throbbed with want and she grabbed Hermione's hair again, pushing the younger witch's mouth back against her needy cunt. Vulgar wet sounds filled the room as the girl's tongue lapped in unison with the thrusting of her fingers. Flashing back to a description she had read in her sex book the previous day, Hermione sucked Bellatrix's clitoris between her teeth and lathed it with her tongue.
The Slytherin almost fell off of the stool with the force of her orgasm and her internal muscles clenched tightly around Hermione's fingers. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" The young woman gently withdrew her hand; moved her lips to Bellatrix's thigh, kissing wet skin a few times, until she felt the hands in her hair loosen and she sat back on her heels.
When the witch came back to her senses she sat up straighter and ran a hand over her face. "Well, well Pet. That was marvellous." The young woman smiled shyly in response to the praise and then looked down at the floor embarrassed. Bellatrix suddenly thought how incredibly sexy the girl looked; kneeling naked at her feet, hair tousled, cheeks flushed, lips and chin coated with her cum.
The Slytherin leant forward, pressing a hand against Hermione's cheek for a moment before ducking her head to lick the fluid from a full bottom lip. She felt rather than heard the young woman's moan and only managed to resist the urge to kiss her by pulling back.
The clock in the hallway struck the hour and Bellatrix groaned, swearing under her breath. "I'm going to be late for work." She pushed back the stool and stood, "And as much as I would love to have you for breakfast…" The older witch slid a hand through the kneeling girl's hair on the way past and finished dressing with just a wave of her wand.
"Try and be good while I'm gone hmmmm Pet?"
"Yes Mistress," replied Hermione in a near whisper, watching Bellatrix leave and not for the first time, wondering what the fuck had just happened.