Bellatrix cackled through the corridors of the Ministry, weaving about rooms and over obstacles – all because she could. She could hear Potter behind her, but he was a ways back and she was completely at ease. The prophecy was safe in her corset and she was successfully luring Potter directly to the Dark Lord.
They had set a trap for the boy, one that even Hermione knew nothing of. She was torment and push Harry to his limits before leading the boy out into the main hall of the Ministry. There, the Dark Lord would pretend to be furious with Bellatrix for "not managing to procure the prophecy" and he would storm in. Dumbledore was bound to arrive and He would thus battle the old man, determined to kill him before things went too far.
No one would be the wiser and they would never suspect Hermione of foul play.
Her lover's role in this war was crucial; it couldn't be disrupted or the war would start to unravel. She was as vital as Potter (if not more so) and the Order was beginning to notice that. It wouldn't be long before Hermione was accepted back into their little circle and she would be able to gather knowledge no one else was capable of gaining, even Severus.
"Crucio!"
Bellatrix's knees gave out momentarily and she was startled, though unharmed. The Dark Lord's punishments were brutal and taxing. Nothing Potter could conjure would come close to what she'd endured over the years.
He'd caught up to her, his wand aimed at her chest as she walked backwards into the main hall.
"You've never cast such a spell, have you, Potter? Don't you know you have to mean it? It can't be a heat of the moment. You need to feel it in your very soul. Should I demonstrate?" she mocked, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up.
Not only was He here, but so was Hermione. She was tucked in the shadows, hidden from view.
"Last chance, Potter. Give – me – the – prophecy!"
"I already told you. It's gone!" he shouted.
Bellatrix schooled her features into mock horror. "You can't be serious, boy. Give it to me!"
-X-
Hermione had to give Bellatrix credit. She was an incredible actress. If she hadn't known the truth, she almost would have fallen for the ruse.
Hiding behind a statue, Hermione's eyes were trained on her lover. She exuded confidence, even as she faked terror at the thought of disappointing the Dark Lord. Bellatrix wasn't one to back down, especially not to Harry. If she could face His ire, she definitely wouldn't cower over Harry's fury.
"I don't have it," Harry repeated smugly. "It's gone."
"Filthy half-blood! Do you know what you've done? M-my Lord, I tried! I swear I tried!" she screamed, tears filling her eyes and hands trembling.
Hermione balked at the sight of her father appearing behind Harry, his red gaze staring disinterestedly at Bellatrix. His lips were twisted in disgust and Hermione genuinely feared for her lover. Did he really think she didn't have it?
"I don't want your excuses, Bellatrix. I will deal with you later," he snapped, so convincing that Bellatrix worried about her safety for a moment.
Harry spun around, frozen at the sight. The man who haunted his every dream with his cold eyes and taunting laughter was standing before him. He was glaring with disdain, examining his stiff form.
"You smashed my prophecy, Potter; countless hours of planning, ruined by one measly child. Must you destroy everything you touch?" If Voldemort couldn't tell he was lying, then Harry had successfully learned to defend himself from the snake-like man and he couldn't help the pride blooming in his chest. He could save Hermione and she would be able to give the prophecy to Dumbledore. "You continue to be a thorn forever trapped in my side and it's time I pluck it out once and for all. Goodbye, Harry Potter." He raised his wand. "Avada –"
A jet of red flew past Voldemort and sent Bellatrix flying back, her body skittering along the marble floor.
"You shouldn't have come here tonight, Tom." Dumbledore strolled purposefully through the hall, his wand limp at his side.
The Dark Lord sneered, his attention slipping from Harry to the former Headmaster. "Dumbledore." Flashes of green burst from his wand, narrowly missing Dumbledore, who disappeared into nothingness.
Swallowing harshly, Hermione peered over Bellatrix. She was struggling to stand, disoriented by the Stunning spell. It hadn't knocked her unconscious, but the fogginess in her brain was unpleasant and her legs were tingling. She'd been so absorbed in the Dark Lord's exchange with Potter that she hadn't noticed the spell until it was too late.
Behind him, a statue came to life and attempted to seize the Dark Lord, who vanished into a cloud of thick smoke, his features indistinguishable beneath the gray rippling out.
"Are you not going to kill me, Albus? Is your morality too high for that?" he mocked as he reappeared.
Dumbledore nudged Harry aside and smiled serenely at his former student. "Some things are worse than death, Tom."
"Nothing is worse," Voldemort seethed, his teeth gleaming dangerously in the light.
"Becoming a soulless creature is far worse, Tom. You cannot even love your own child." Dumbledore was calm, but Hermione couldn't help the hurt reverberating in her veins. Harry had taken her father and Dumbledore had taken her mother.
A deep hiss left the Dark Lord's mouth. "And you took her from her mother! You killed the only blood she had left. Who is really the monster here, Albus?"
"No child should grow up that way – around Death Eaters and murderers. She was happy with the Grangers."
No I wasn't. They were nice, but nothing felt right there. You stole everything I could have had away before I even knew what I had!
"Yet you willingly dropped Potter off with vile muggles and force him home every summer? You cannot pick and choose what your sins are, Dumbledore! Pretty words only get you so far. If you were so concerned, you would have told her the truth. If you cared, you would have given her the life she deserved. If you cared, her mother would be alive!"
Fire erupted from the Dark Lord's wand and with a flick of his wrist, Dumbledore doused it with water from the nearby fountain. It was obvious that neither man would get the upper hand, but they danced about, trying to catch the other off guard. Bellatrix stayed out of the fray, inching closer to Hermione every few moments. She could see Hermione's eyes were filled with tears and she slipped into the shadows, gathering the Gryffindor in her arms.
"It's not fair," Hermione whimpered, burying her face in inky curls.
Bellatrix's gaze remained steadfast on the battle, but she stroked Hermione's hair soothingly. There were no words to fix the hurt; no way to tell her it would be okay. Nothing about it would ever be okay. What he'd done was unforgivable - in Bellatrix's mind, at least.
When the Dark Lord evaporated once more, she was certain he'd escaped the Ministry. Dumbledore was too powerful in that moment and he would not be able to defeat him – not yet anyway. The air was stifling and far too still. Not a sound was heard aside from Dumbledore's heavy breathing, his wand clutched tight in his hand.
"Stay back, Harry!" he commanded when Harry shifted from his hiding spot.
The muscles of his face twitched and his eyes glowed sinisterly, a golden hue surrounding emerald irises and he dropped to his knees. He spoke, but the voice was not his. It was haunting, a raspy – almost demonic – tone that made Hermione shudder and her heart thud loudly in her ears. He sounded inhuman, demanding Dumbledore kill him and end his misery.
He writhed on the floor, the Dark Lord's shadowy form standing over him. A silvery mist enclosed their bodies and she could vaguely see the two. Dumbledore clearly wanted to break the barrier, but was too frightened by the notion of hurting his Golden Boy. She couldn't hear their conversation, but she thought he was begging for Dumbledore to end his suffering.
"I must go," Bellatrix whispered into Hermione's hair. "You've done beautifully, love. When you come home, I promise you that you can relax. Everything is going to be okay now."
Hermione nodded, sniffling softly and angrily wiping at her eyes. She had tried so hard not to cry, but stress weighed heavily on her shoulders and threatened to consume her.
"Go find Draco. Find comfort with him and I will see you soon." Bellatrix pressed a loving kiss to Hermione's forehead and slipped from the shadows back into the open.
Flames licked from various Floos as Ministry officials trickled into the hall. The Dark Lord stepped away and dissolved into smoke, taking Bellatrix with them as they fled. Hearing footsteps behind her, Hermione caught sight of her friends making their way toward her. Draco had a nasty bruise blossoming on his eye and Neville's nose looked broken. Ginny was limping, most of her weight being supported by her brother. Luna was skipping ahead, unscathed and unperturbed by the events of the evening as though she'd been taking a stroll in the park.
Hermione herself had taken quite a beating. Her ribs ached; diving to keep Harry out of the crosshairs had definitely bruised her sternum, along with jumping behind desks and returning spells admirably. There were a few minor scratches on her face and Tonks' blood was caked onto her hands and robes.
Hermione couldn't wait to scrub the crimson from her skin.
I hope she's okay.
Sirius and Remus were long gone, but Moody and Kingsley were ushering the teenagers along, their own injuries ignored in favor of herding the children.
Moody's false eye landed on her and she slipped from her hiding spot. She absently wiped the last of her tears away, streaking blood underneath her eyes and fell into Draco's side the second he was close enough. It was over for now…
But she knew the war had only begun.
-X-
The Ministry officials demanded debriefing, but were deterred by Dumbledore. He felt there was no reason teenagers should rehash the traumas of the evening and told – not asked – Fudge they would be returning to Hogwarts without talking to them.
Harry went ahead via Portkey while the Ministry officials reluctantly unlocked the Floos for the others. They appeared in the Headmaster's office, Harry sitting despondently in a chair near Dumbledore's office when they arrived.
"The door is locked. We're stuck here until Professor Dumbledore decides to let us out." Harry shrugged, exhaustion seeping from his pores. He'd made a grave error in judgment and now he was going to have to face the consequences of his actions.
Time seemed to tick by slowly, the tension building as they awaited Dumbledore's presence. Draco and Ginny were leaning against a wall, the portraits above them grumbling irritably whenever they knocked into them. Hermione had flopped down beside Harry and held out the orb to him. He glared at the offending object.
"I don't want it," he hissed, narrowing his gaze until his eyes were just slits beneath the lids.
"We went through all of that for nothing?" Hermione demanded. "We risked our lives and you just want to throw it away?"
"We kept it from Voldemort. That's all that mattered, Mione." Harry yanked it from Hermione's hand, twisting it and staring into the blue smoke that filled the orb. "If it's so important, I will find out but the idea of this in anyone's hand is a dangerous idea. What if Dumbledore has to leave again? Someone worse than Him could come across it and then what? This thing isn't worth it. I can't apologize enough for dragging you all into this but this prophecy is too risky to keep around." Before anyone could protest or make him see reason, he let it roll off his palm and to the ground.
Hermione gaped at the shattered prophecy, the smoke dancing in a wisp of white and blue before it dissolved into nothingness. She couldn't believe he'd done something so irrational, but at the same time, she could. He was an impulsive boy who ran headfirst into danger and wanted to play hero. Watching him destroy the one thing they'd tried so hard to protect was startling, but not entirely unexpected.
Relief blossomed in Hermione's chest the moment it shattered against the floor. Having to try and explain away a false prophecy would have been difficult, even for her.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Draco exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "We fought Death Eaters and got our asses beat trying to save that thing – and you break it? Are you joking, Potter?"
Harry merely shrugged again and stared straight ahead. The only Slytherin glared at the back of Harry's head; if looks could kill, he'd be dead instantly. Draco looked seconds away from throttling him, Ginny's calming grip on his arm the only thing that kept him in place.
Flames licked the top of Dumbledore's fireplace and Dumbledore stepped out of the emerald fire. Hermione bowed her head contritely, lip trapped between pearly white teeth.
"What you've done tonight was incredibly reckless and foolish. You could have been jailed, imprisoned in Azkaban or killed. Do you understand that? You all would have gone home this summer in coffins. What were you thinking?" he demanded, settling in his Headmaster's chair and peering at the group, searching for an answer in the silence.
"I thought he had Sirius," Harry answered feebly, voice soft and apologetically. "It was my fault."
Hermione shook her head. "Harry didn't drag us into this. We all came willingly. We're all at fault."
"You are," Dumbledore agreed. "Being foolish isn't an honorable trait. It only leads to trouble and you all seem rather talented at finding yourselves in the middle of every mess humanly possible. You shouldn't have gone tonight. The prophecy was not worth your lives. Where is it?"
"Broken," Harry replied evenly. He appeared perfectly at ease, but the wringing of his hands told another story.
Dumbledore blinked. "Broken? Gone?"
"Yes, Headmaster."
Dumbledore pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "The lot of you go see Madame Pomfrey and get patched up. We can't have all of you looking haggard and battered if you come across other students. The Aurors are out searching for Nymphadora Tonks. It seems she disappeared during the fighting and no one can find her."
Ginny paled, tears brimming but refused to let them fall. She stayed quiet and Draco grabbed Ginny's hand, smiling sympathetically. He knew she cared for the Auror, but maybe she cared more than he thought.
"Harry, you stay. I will escort you myself to Madame Pomfrey after we talk." Harry absently stroked the cuts littering his cheeks and forehead, as though suddenly remembering he'd taken a few blows himself in the fight. With the adrenaline having drained away, the pain was noticeable with each twitch of his muscles.
Nodding dutifully, the others filed from the room and fell in step, trudging gingerly through the halls quietly. Draco was still holding Ginny's hand and Hermione was tucked into his side. She gritted her teeth whenever her ribs twinged, but said nothing. She was determined to stand tall amongst her friends. She was not weak.
Coming upon the Hospital Wing, Hermione slipped inside and awkwardly maneuvered her body onto the cot. She was beginning to really hate this room. She'd spent so much time in it the past few years that smell of potions hardly fazed her. Ginny hopped up on the bed next to her and stared at her shoes as if they were the most interesting things in the world.
"Gin," Hermione called softly, as to not startle her friend. Raising her head, Ginny tilted her head but wouldn't look at her fellow Gryffindor. "She will be okay."
"How do you know?" she growled, finally meeting Hermione's gaze. "Huh? The last time I saw her, Bellatrix Lestrange was standing her body before she jinxed me!" She leaned in and continued accusingly, "And you weren't the least bit surprised by it."
Exhaling heavily, Hermione closed her eyes. "We'll talk after Madame Pomfrey heals us, I promise."
Ginny wasn't satisfied by her response, but dropped the subject as the healer started fussing over their wounds and chiding them for their stupidity.
-X-
Tonks let out a low groan, the throbbing of her chest dragging her back into consciousness. She could vaguely feel careful fingers running along tender flesh and she noted the chill of the room. She was clearly topless, but she was relieved to still be wearing a bra. She was almost positive she wasn't in St. Mungos, the air devoid of the usual "hospital" smell she'd come to associate the terrible place with.
"I –" Tonks coughed, her mouth dry and voice hoarse.
Someone shushed in the darkness and a straw was pressed to her lips. "Drink this."
Tonks obeyed without question; she wasn't worried about the woman's intentions. If she'd meant to kill her, she would have let her bleed out instead of mending her ripped skin.
Crackling open an eye, she was thankful to find dim lights greeting her. Blinking the other open, her vision was blurry but she could make out the outline of a rather short woman with blonde hair and familiar features. She was flitting about, different potions and salves covering a nearby table.
"You're lucky to be alive, Nymphadora," the woman commented off-handedly. "A minute sooner and we wouldn't be having this conversation."
"D-don't call me Nymphadora," Tonks wheezed, mustering a weak glare that fell flat.
The woman chuckled, but didn't reply. She took a potion from the table and stepped close, offering it to the Auror. "Drink. It tastes awful but it'll help the pain."
The moment it touched Tonks' lips, she scowled. "Y-you weren't kidding."
"Sorry, not everything can taste like pumpkin juice and butterbeer," the woman said dryly.
The spots in Tonks' eyes started to fade and the bleary, unfocused glaze slowly drained away, giving her a chance to take in her surroundings. The room was clean, the sheets pooling at her waist soft and comforting against her naked body. It wasn't particularly dark, but it wasn't the level of brightness she enjoyed. It sort of reminded her of Grimmauld Place, actually.
Eyes drifting to the woman, Tonks' eyes widened considerably.
Narcissa Malfoy was watching her with an amused smile, waving sardonically. "Welcome back to the land of the living."
"W-what happened? Why am I here?" Tonks demanded, panic evident in her ever changing irises.
"I can clear things up better than my sister," another voice piped up from the corner of the room. She wasn't hidden, but Tonks hadn't been searching for another person and had overlooked her entirely.
Some Auror I am.
Bellatrix swaggered from the corner, arms crossed and a cocky smirk quirking her lips. She was disheveled, but looked human compared to the insanity she'd shown in battle. Her corset was tight and dirty; Tonks wondered if it was the same corset she'd worn at the Department of Mysteries.
What startled her most was how much she looked like her mother. Narcissa was the odd one out with her blonde hair and lighter eyes while Bellatrix and Andromeda had onyx hair and dark, consuming eyes. There was no denying the resemblance.
"Bellatrix Lestrange," she breathed, inching up the mattress and discretely searching for her wand.
"It's Black now," Bellatrix corrected, "Though it's an honest mistake."
"W-why am I here?" Tonks repeated, curious though rightfully apprehensive. She'd never met her aunts, but she'd heard horror stories from the Aurors and the Order. They hated her mother – and most definitely her father – so why were they being kind and saving her life?
Sighing, Bellatrix settled herself at the end of the bed. "Once upon a time, I did not hate my sister and, even now, I'm not sure I do, considering the things I've learned recently. I hate what she's done – sullying our family's blood and lineage with a mudblood – but she is still a Black and she is still family. You, Nymphadora, are family. You are a half-blood, but Black blood remains Black blood, even if it's been muddied. Your status doesn't change the blood in your veins." She spoke as though it were an obvious answer. "Family is family."
Tonks had no idea how to respond. What was there to say?
-X-
"Explain," Ginny commanded as Hermione's dorm door slammed shut. Her arms were crossed and there was a dark tint that swirled about brilliant green. She was terrified and it was manifesting into fury – something she knew a lot about.
Hermione slumped onto her bed, gazing blankly at her shoes. "Do you remember how I said, earlier this year, that there were things I couldn't tell you?"
Ginny's brows bunched together but she nodded.
"When everything was coming out and the world learned about my birth, I learned something else too – something not in public records." She clenched her fists. "Harry isn't the only one with a prophecy, but Professor Dumbledore decided mine wasn't worth looking in to. He was so concerned with Harry that he overlooked important details in the scheme of things."
"You have a prophecy?" Ginny relaxed her stance slightly.
"Yes and it involves the House of Black…"
Studying her disheartened friend, Ginny tried to make sense of what Hermione was skirting around. "What exactly are you saying, Mione?"
"My future is inevitably tied to Bellatrix Black."
"She's your girlfriend." It wasn't a question, but a horrified statement.
Hermione bit her lip, but nodded. "Yes, Bellatrix Black is my girlfriend." She frowned. "Well, actually she's more than that…"
Crossing over to the bed, Ginny settled herself beside Hermione. "Explain all of this to me and then clarify how all of this comes back to Tonks. Please."
Hermione jumped into her tale; how she'd come across Bellatrix in the Shrieking Shack, her meeting with the Dark Lord, the blood tests and the prophecy. She recounted every detail she could think of, relieved that Ginny didn't seem nearly as disgusted as she'd expected. She gave a haphazard overview about what the prophecy meant and what a soulmate was and how both of those things were connected to her. She told Ginny every piece of information that was important to her brief story and it felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest to finally confess everything to the Gryffindor.
"I knew about tonight," Hermione disclosed sheepishly, "But I couldn't change it. It was going to happen whether I said something or not. Sirius would have actually been in danger if I'd warned Harry or tried to stop him. I went because they wouldn't hurt any of you drastically and I could keep you all alive if I went along with the plan."
Yes, she was fudging the truth slightly, but there were some things Ginny was not prepared to hear yet. Maybe some day but not today.
Ginny sat in silence, slowly processing all the facts and stories she'd been told. It made sense, really, that Hermione would be something extraordinary. She was the smartest witch of their generation; powerful beyond anything Ginny had ever seen. She understood why Hermione had kept quiet about all of it.
"Is that why you and Draco are so close?"
Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. I guess we grew close because he understands the pressures of pureblood society and what I would face, being the soulmate of a notorious Death Eater."
"Do you think she could ever be reformed? You know, join the Order or something?" Ginny's mind whirled with possibilities. It would change the course of everything.
"I don't know," Hermione admitted quietly, "I don't know. No matter what, we'll have to choose a side and I'm so scared it won't be the right one, Gin. I'm terrified."
Ginny gathered Hermione into her arms and stroked her bushy mane of hair. The straightening spell had long since worn off during their impromptu trip to the Ministry. "It's going to be okay. You're not alone."
"You don't hate me?" Hermione whimpered, petrified of losing her best friend. She'd fought so hard to keep it from her, terrified that the moment she knew the truth, she'd disappear just as Ron and Harry had all those months ago.
"No, I don't. Hermione, you're my best friend. You've done things for me that no one else ever has or ever will. If we can all survive Harry's meltdowns and his weird connection to Voldemort, then we can get through this. Your prophecy is flexible and she could change for the better. If she's your soulmate or whatever, that has to mean there's some good in her because you, Hermione Riddle, are not a bad person. I have your back and we'll get through this: you, me, Draco and Neville. We're a team. Besides," Ginny shook Hermione playfully, "Who else do I have to gush over Tonks with?"
Hermione laughed tearfully. "Well, you could always tell Draco."
"Not a chance. How exactly is she related to this story though?"
"Bellatrix had her taken to Malfoy Manor - to Narcissa. She's one of the best healers and potions masters I've ever known. There wasn't time for her to be taken to St. Mungos so Bellatrix sent one of the Death Eaters back to the manor on her orders with Tonks in his arms."
"Oh. That was nice of her. See, I told you: there has to be some goodness in her."
Hermione laughed heartedly in response. If only she knew.
-X-
The end of term was upon them and Hermione had never felt so joyful about leaving school. The year had been far too taxing and all she wanted was to curl up in Bellatrix's arms and never leave. She was planning to visit Ginny - probably stay at Grimmauld Place for a week or so. The Order was planning to try and get back in her good graces so hopefully she'd get to spend time with the youngest Weasley before next semester.
She and Ginny had loads to talk about after all.
Dumbledore's voice echoed through the Great Hall as the final meal commenced but Hermione paid him no mind. Harry had snuck away, feigning exhaustion in place of coming to dinner. He was weighed down by something; she could only assume it was whatever he and Dumbledore had discussed in Dumbledore's office.
The realization that she was ending her year an entirely different person than she'd started was startling, but freeing in a way. Her feelings of loneliness and isolation had drained away, the warmth and love of her friends filling the gaps in her heart she never knew existed. She had a "mother" who loved her and someone whose very essence was tied to hers. Bellatrix was absolutely nothing like she'd expected – both as a person and as a potential partner – but she had never been happier to be wrong. Nothing from this moment on would be simple, but knowing she had friends in her corner and a family, she was ready for anything.
Hopefully.