Nymphadora Tonks was many things – the daughter of Andromeda Black and Edward Tonks, a metamorphmagus, an Auror, a frequent klutz, and easy going. However, something she would have never classified herself as speechless. She always had a comment for something – whether playful or serious, she'd add her two cents into the conversation (she'd heard that phrase during a mission in North America and the absurdity of it thrilled her. It fit her eccentric personality perfectly).

Yet weeks after her "moment" with Ginny, she still could not make heads or tails of it. Had it been with another, she could have simply laughed it off – say it was simply a near "heat of the moment" experience or maybe that it was something similar to when fighters were about to be sent off into war with little hope of returning; they just wanted to feel a connection to someone, should they not come home.

But she couldn't get it out of her head. The way Ginny pressed against her, strong arms steadying her. For a fourth year, the youngest Weasley was remarkably statured; her muscles taut from Quidditch and from having to defend herself against so many brothers.

That was part of the problem, though. Ginny was only a fourth year, far too young for Tonks to even think about fancying and yet…

She was definitely going to Hell.

At Hogwarts, sexuality was never a problem for her. She'd date anyone she fancied, be it a man or a woman, but as she'd gotten older her preferences began changing. She still could appreciative an attractive man, but she lost the urge to be with him. She was fine with admitting he was handsome or charming and that's where she left it.

She'd had a number of girlfriends since her graduation from Hogwarts, though they lasted only a few months at a time. When she joined the Order, she hadn't expected to find such an attraction – to anyone. And, in her defense, the first time her eyes landed on the gorgeous Gryffindor, she had not been overcome with lust.

What started her infatuation was the sheer brilliance that was Ginny Weasley. She was kind, yet confident – commanding respect rather than demanding it. She may have been the youngest in the room, but she refused to allow anyone to look down upon her because of it. She was wise beyond her years but she could still enjoy the peculiarity of Tonk's actions and jokes. It was wonderful.

But, Merlin's beard, she was definitely headed straight for Hell.

A deep sigh filled the silence of her room at Grimmauld Place. What could she do? It wasn't like she could avoid Ginny, especially over the summer. She was Molly's child! There was no way possible way of doing that without tipping off the "adults" and hurting Ginny's feelings.

If she was being honest, she was far too selfish. She couldn't bring herself to separate herself from the Gryffindor. It was entirely reckless to stay so close to the redhead, but in true Tonk's style, she couldn't force herself to care.

Knock.

Tonks glanced up, smiling faintly when she caught sight of Remus in the doorway. The werewolf had been her closest confidant during her stay at Grimmauld and it saddened her to know he was falling for her, yet she would never return those feelings. In a different world, she could have seen herself tumbling headfirst into a relationship with him – marrying, having a beautiful child and taking the world by storm.

But this was not that world.

"Moody's calling a meeting."

-X-

My dear Witch,

I will castrate that weasel where he stands if he dares to lay a finger on you. How dare he?! The little cowardly bastard. I'm sorry you've been troubled by that blood traitor. Karma will bite him in the arse some day. I'm sure of it.

The manor is dreadful without you. I miss you constantly. Narcissa misses your presence as well. She's planning to come see you during your first outing to Hogsmeade so prepare yourself and Draco for lunch. She's bound to be very motherly.

I cannot believe our first Valentine's Day and we cannot be together. I would love to see you. I've been "hellish" in the manor according to Cissy and Lucius, but it is so troublesome to keep away from you.

He has been rather irritable as of late. His plans are falling apart and he is less than thrilled. No matter what happens, please be safe, darling. Stay close to Draco.

I love you, sweet witch. The summer will come faster than you realize and we shall be together again.

Forever yours,

The Panther.

-X-

Tucking the letter into her robe, Hermione smiled and nibbled on her toast, tossing the crust of it toward Nox. It amused her greatly that her owl (who was the darkest onyx Hermione had ever had the pleasure of seeing) was named after that particular spell.

Only Bella, she chuckled.

"What's got you in such high spirits?" Ginny wondered, flopping down beside Hermione and filling her plate with breakfast goodies. Hermione couldn't help but wonder how Ginny could eat so many pastries and not gain a pound. "A letter from your lady?"

Blushing pink, Hermione made no attempt at an answer and simply continued on with her meal. What could she really say?

Draco smirked into his goblet, though Ginny could still make out the slight upturn of his lips.

"Wait, Draco knows who she is?!" the youngest Weasley shrieked, garnering the attention of the Gryffindor table. She waited until they returned to their conversations before continuing. "Why does he know and I don't?" The hurt was evident in her eyes and Hermione's stomach clenched with guilt.

Apologetically, Draco glanced at Hermione moments before a bird dropped a letter into his plate. Thankful for the reprieve, he hurriedly popped the seal and began combing through it.

"It's not that I don't want to tell you," Hermione pleaded, "It's just that I can't."

Ginny's brow arched curiously, but the desperation in Hermione's voice kept her from commenting.

"I swear to you, Gin, when I can tell you, I will." Hermione's imploring gaze gave Ginny pause. She could see honesty shining in chocolate orbs.

"Okay." Ginny smiled, the hurt she'd felt ebbing away. She trusted Hermione with her life and if she could not talk about, Ginny wouldn't push her.

Draco folded his letter, passing it to Hermione who gave it a quick onceover. Narcissa's writing was similar to how she was in life – elegant and clean, yet held an air of affection that was unmistakable. She had written to Draco, telling her of the plans to join them in Hogsmeade and – while he'd never admit it – the blonde was overjoyed at the arrival of his mother.

Ginny peered over Hermione's shoulder. "Who's it from?"

"Narcissa," Hermione hummed, handing it back to Draco. "She's going to be in Hogsmeade during our trip and wishes to see us."

"You're welcome to join us," Draco added, smiling kindly at the Weasley.

At first, the budding friendship between Draco and Ginny had been bizarre. They were rivals, yet they could jokes like old friends and push aside the animosity between their families for Hermione's sake. But, in hindsight, it made sense that they would click.

Both were headstrong and brazen but gentle when the situation called for it. They were brilliant in their own rights; fierce when someone they cared about (i.e. Hermione) was in danger - and hardened by the impending war, though not jaded.

Most of Hogwarts was thrown by the notion of the youngest Weasley making friends with the Malfoy heir – considering their history – but they couldn't have cared less. With Ron's lack of support in her life and the twins leading their own lives (and their illegal practical jokes store), Ginny was left without brotherly care.

Something Draco provided.

"I think I'll pass," Ginny laughed, though not unkindly, "I think Ron would have a conniption if he saw me with your mother. I'm already getting letters from Mum about being seen with you two. One of them would have a heart attack if they found out."

Draco nodded understandingly.

-X-

"Ms. Riddle, a word," Severus called just as Hermione headed for the door.

Morning classes had finished without incident – something Hermione was forever grateful for. Ron had been intelligent enough to avoid shooting her a snide word while Harry did what he was good at: nothing.

The last straggling students filed from the room, leaving Hermione to anxiously fidget in the silence. The stoicism of her professor (and friend) was frightening. He waved his hand and the door slammed closed, shattering the stillness.

"The Order held a meeting last night," Severus started, displeasure evident in his eyes, "And you were the topic of choice." He paced along desks. "It would seem that Albus thought your prophecy was knowledge of importance."

Hermione balked, stumbling into an open chair. "But…"

"Albus does not know the true nature of the prophecy, Hermione, but he does know of it. He was not there when it was made, but he's always known about it. I've told you that – and so has your father. However, despite this, Moody was called to conduct the meeting and speculate on it. They believe if they convince you to return to the "good" then they shall control the deciding factors of this war. Potter is important, but you are the key."

"I…"

"You've heard the Prophecy."

Hermione swallowed thickly. She hadn't been able to forget it. The words constantly swirled in the back recesses of her mind – repeating over and over.

The children of new shall rule at the Daughter's side,

In a world controlled by neither darkness nor light.

For months she'd pondered those last lines, searching for an answer too far out of reach and unfathomable, even for her. She could be no ruler. She was simply Hermione. Wasn't that enough for these people?

"What does this mean, Severus?" Hermione whispered, wringing her fingers apprehensively.

Sighing, Severus' heart went out to the girl. "The Order may begin attempting to court you back onto the side of "good." Right now, things aren't looking too good outside of them. They're trying desperately to pad their side in numbers, but it is difficult when most do not believe in His return."

"Do they know about Bellatrix?"

Shaking his head, Severus smiled wistfully. "If they did, they would be less inclined to earn your forgiveness. No, they are unaware the Prophecy pertains to you and Ms. Black. As I said, they know you are of importance in this war. Nothing more."

Sighing, Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. Why had she hoped for an easy year – to just make it through school without trouble? Could nothing in her life be simple?

Of course not.

-X-

Bellatrix stormed through the manor, terrifying to anyone who wasn't Narcissa Malfoy. The matriarch had seen her sister's rage and merely patted her shoulder. Their last raid had been a bust – nothing seemed to give, even when threat of death hung over the heads of those wanting little to do with their Lord.

"I take it things did not go according to plan?"

Bellatrix shot the blonde a scathing sneer, but Narcissa only arched a brow in response. Deflating, she slumped onto the couch in the sitting room. "No! Really, I don't understand why it's so hard to tell me what I've come for."

"They do not understand the power he possesses yet, Bella. When He is no longer waved off as a rumor, the loyal will come."

Pouting, Bellatrix crossed her arms. "I don't understand why He is hiding the truth. Why hide in the shadows?"

"It is not for us to question, sister. You know that." Narcissa's tone of warning gave Bellatrix pause. She knew Cissy was right, but patience was never her strong suit. "Things will fall into place. Just give it time." Nimble fingers stroked wild curls, relaxing Bellatrix as they always had. Even as children, Narcissa could calm the insanity residing inside of Bella.

"I must go to Him. He is calling."

Narcissa smiled knowingly. "Come find me once you're done. I have an idea that might please you greatly."

-X-

News of another attack flooded the halls of Hogwarts early Tuesday morning. A former Ministry employee found dead in his home, an expression of horror permanently etched into his face. The Daily Prophet claimed it to be the work of Sirius Black, but Hermione knew differently. She knew her father was searching for something "big" if the Order's secrecy was any indication and she knew a Death Eater was behind it.

I wonder if it was Bella.

Something Hermione had come to realize was that there was a morbid nature to her curiosity. Whenever she heard of such things, she couldn't help but ponder the possibility of Bellatrix being behind it. Maybe it the darkness inside of her or maybe it was simply her mind attempting to cope with her lover's "job" but either way, it always seemed to happen.

Nausea was common for her these days. No matter what side of the war she fell, she knew in her heart that blood would taint her soul – just as it did Bella's and as it did Dumbledore.

Her innocence had an expiration date; she only wished she knew when the hourglass would run out.

Thrumming her fingers absently along her desk, Hermione's eyes flickered to Ron. He was a few seats ahead, his head tucked low as he tried to understand the material before him. Charms were always a tough concept for the Gryffindor to grasp and she could not help the desire bubbling in her to help.

He had been her best friend for so long that it had become second nature to help him through, but those days had long since passed. But, as time went on, she'd realized that their friendship was not always healthy. Ron (and to some extent Harry) had taken her for granted. She was a third wheel more often than not. She would help them with school work and plan their crazy ideas, yet she took the brunt of Ron's jealousy and seen as "lesser" and as a know-it-all, even after their friendship had formed.

If that were true, she knew they did not mean it intentionally, but Merlin it was maddening.

Sighing, Hermione drew her attention back to the parchment on her desk. I might as well finish it now. I really don't want this for homework.

-X-

The morning of the Hogsmeade trip, Hermione could not contain her excitement. She'd woken earlier than her House in hopes of avoiding any potential trouble that could ruin her day. Knowing she'd see Narcissa filled her with a sense of anticipation.

She'd missed having the matriarch near; the way Narcissa had become a second mother and showed her the affection and knowledge she'd lost when she'd been stripped from Kathryn. It was refreshing to have someone in her life that could teach her how to be a "proper" pureblooded heir.

"You're rather chipper today," Draco observed, locking arms with the Gryffindor when they began their trek toward Hogsmeade.

"I am," Hermione breathed, a light in her eyes that Draco hadn't seen since their departure from Malfoy Manor.

Amused by his friend's antics, he tugged her along down the snowy path. Their first stop was Honeydukes before stopping in at Zonko's. Then it was off to lunch with Narcissa at the Three Broomsticks.

Satisfied with his treasures, Draco led Hermione into the inn. Hiccough sweets filled the Zonko's bag while choco-balls and cauldrons were overflowing from the other. He'd gotten an assortment of other treats, but what else Hermione was unsure of.

"Mother," Draco greeted cheerfully, pecking the woman's cheek.

She gestured for the pair to join her. "My, I am glad to see you both in such good spirits. I take it your shopping went well?"

"Definitely." The Malfoy heir tucked his paper bags down near his feet.

Hermione was aware of the nasty glares pointed in their direction, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Ugly looks were something she'd become accustom to in the last month, so really, why should she care how people looked at her? She was too elated by Narcissa's presence to actually give a damn.

"How are classes going?"

Draco was eager to launch into his tale of his upstaging all of his classmates, regaling his mischievous acts against Potter's cronies and how he'd charmed Daphne Greengrass in Potions. Hermione nodded along, half-heartedly listening. She'd rather enjoy the peace being near her lover's sister and the reprieve from all the hateful comments.

Narcissa studied Hermione carefully. A mere month at Hogwarts had clearly taken its toll upon the girl, leaving her taut with exhaustion and far colder than when she'd left the manor. There was an air about her that was worrying, though she hoped her surprise would soften the blows her classmates had dealt her.

"Hermione," Narcissa called, pulling the girl from her faraway thoughts, "I have something for you." She fished a key from her robe, passing it to Hermione with a knowing smirk.

Tilting her head, Hermione's brows furrowed. It was clearly an inn key with the number thirty-two etched into the handle, but for the life of her she had no idea why it'd been given to her.

"There is a present in that room. Though," Narcissa glanced at the clock, "It might be best if you go see it now rather waiting. You only have a few hours until you're expected back at the castle."

Peering at Draco, she could tell he was just as perplexed.

When Hermione had disappeared from sight, Draco stared in bewilderment at his mother. "What…"

Raising her hand, Narcissa only smirked. "It is best not to know."

Realization dawned on the young man, a boisterous laughter bubbling from his chest. "How…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "You're right. Ignorance is bliss. I guess I will do a little more shopping before returning to collect her. Maybe spend a little time with Crabbe and Goyle."

"That's probably best."

-X-

Hermione's fingers trembled as she slipped the key into the door, pressing it open slowly when the lock clicked. The room was dark, aside from sunlight as it peeked through the curtains.

She ventured deeper inside, unnerved by the stillness.

"Hello, love," a sultry voice greeted from behind.

Spinning on her heel, Hermione came face-to-face with her lover; a glorious sight she'd never expected. She was leaned against the wall, a smirked painted across soft lips that were begging to be nibbled.

Throwing herself into the arms of the dark witch, Hermione's fingers tangled in raven locks and slammed their lips together in a bruising kiss. Teeth clashed, yet neither seemed to care, letting the embers of need bloom into a wildfire that was threatening to engulf them.

"You're here," Hermione breathed, warm pants tickling Bellatrix's kiss-swollen lips. "How?"

"Doesn't matter," Bellatrix growled, shoving Hermione into the opposite wall. Talented hands slid along Hermione's lithe form before slipping under her muggle-band t-shirt that Draco found horrendous.

Recapturing Bella's lips with her own, Hermione gripped the Death Eater's hips roughly, using the element of surprise to her advantage as she flipped their position. Bellatrix whined in displeasure, but a fervent moan resonated in her chest when Hermione shoved a thigh against her center, pressing firmly against her overheated core.

"My, my, little witch," Bellatrix teased breathlessly, "Excited, are we?"

Trailing wet, hot kisses down the expansion of Bellatrix's exposed throat, Hermione's only answer was a purr. Eager hands traipsed along the Death Eater's clothed stomach before brushing the apex of Bellatrix's thighs. She whimpered when her fingers met the slick skin; arousal coating her hand in the most inviting manner.

Bella wasn't wearing underwear beneath her dress.

Running her thumb across Bellatrix's swollen clit, she circled it gently while her middle finger slid deep into the older witch. Bucking wildly, Bellatrix released a guttural moan, her head thumping audibly against the wall though she paid no mind to it.

Hermione was in awe of her lover. The way Bellatrix's head was tossed back, her mouth a perfect "o" as she jerked her hips. A second finger was added and Bellatrix groaned appreciatively, moving in time with the Gryffindor's motions. Being without the girl for a month had left the dark witch wound tight, in need of release.

Molten heat held nimble digits, coaxing her for something – anything – that would tumble her over the edge. Decidedly, Hermione slipped her hand away, smirking proudly at the low groan falling past parted lips.

"Why'd you stop?" Bellatrix panted, eyeing the girl lustfully as she popped her wet fingers into her mouth. She was startled when Hermione dropped to her knees and shoved up her skirt.

A tentative tongue lapped at the arousal pooling between her thighs before it flattened and slid along the entirety of Bella's center. She encircled the bundle of nerves with the very tip while two fingers returned to their previous perch. Finding a rhythm that suited them both was easy when they began curling, running along the spot Bellatrix once believed to be a myth. She suckled on Bella's clit, taking immense pleasure in Bellatrix rutting against her face, silently urging her for more.

"I-I…"

A flood of juices erupted from the older witch, trickling down Hermione's fingers. Pleased with herself, Hermione cleaned up the mess, making sure to lick away every drop before rising. She pressed against the older woman and held her as the aftershocks rippled through Bellatrix's body.

It felt good to be home.