A/N: Hi all. It's nice to be back to writing again. The past year and a half-ish has been a lot. I graduated, worked two jobs, then moved to another country and completed my Master's degree. I also recently have been facing some intense heartbreak and it's been the push I need to get back into writing again. I've been wanting to finish my other stories but truthfully I've been having a really hard time sitting down and writing. I think, for the time being, I'll be going through the old chapters and doing some editing and getting myself back into the habit of writing. I could use the refresher on where I am in my stories and I do have drafts started for the updates for all of them. Until then, I hope you enjoy the first chapter of this story. I've been working on getting back into a daily routine and doing things I used to enjoy so updates may be a bit scattered for the time being but I fully intend to get myself on a schedule soon. I hope you're all well!
I miss those old days with my beautiful friend
I'm wondering where you are
And how the hell have you been
-Where Did You Go I'm Less of a Mess These Days, Blue October
Hermione swayed from side to side as the rain soaked her. She stared ahead at the imposing manor that stood several yards away, slightly blurred from the rain and alcohol she had consumed earlier. Her teeth were clenched and she could feel her muscles trembling in an attempt to stave off the cold that seemed to come from within her very bones. She didn't dare take a step closer to the double-doored entrance. Truthfully, she wasn't sure what she'd been thinking when she decided to apparate here. She had sworn that she would never come back. Yet here she was, drenched by the rain and making a poor attempt at staving off the chill from the rain.
The brunette witch frowned as she slightly swayed, doing her best to stand up. Knocking was out of the question and she was half-tempted to turn on her heel and forget she ever came back. Yet for some reason, she still hesitated, stuck in place for a reason she couldn't quite grasp. That hesitation lasted long enough for the manor's single occupant to realise someone was there and come to the door. Dark curls appeared first and Hermione felt adrenaline pour into her system as she debated with herself whether to stay or flee.
"Hermione?" A gentle voice called, one that sent butterflies swarming in Hermione's stomach even after all this time.
Hermione couldn't respond. She was tongue-tied and a bit too drunk to say anything. As she pitched to one side, she tried to correct, her eyes locked on the dark-haired witch in the door whose voice still sent warmth through her body despite everything that had happened between them. Her throat was too dry to formulate a response, not that she could think of anything to say to the witch in the doorway waiting for her response. What do you even say after everything that's happened? Hermione opened her mouth anyway, hoping something- anything- would come out. Her vision blurred suddenly and she had the vague sensation of falling sideways as the rain continued to fall.
Bellatrix watched the brunette witch from the door, squinting slightly to see through the darkness. She hadn't seen or heard from Hermione in nearly three years. No one had. The brunette was clearly drunk, Bellatrix wasn't even sure how she was upright. It seemed like she was favouring one side of her body, but in the rain and darkness, she couldn't be sure. She was still waiting for a response from Hermione, she was certain the younger witch's mouth was open to say something.
Bellatrix watched as Hermione began tilting further to the side and rushed forward, not even registering the cold rain. The rain had turned the ground to mud and Bellatrix felt herself slide as she leaned to catch Hermione before she hit the ground. Managing to keep both of them from hitting the ground, Bellatrix shifted Hermione into her arms and hurried to the doorway, repelling the rain and drying them with a simple twitch of her fingers. Her eyes widened in terror as a sticky warmth spread over her hand and the smell of iron assaulted her nose. With the light from the doorway, she could see how pale Hermione was when she looked down. The brunette's side was covered in blood and Bellatrix wasted no more time in getting them inside.
"Minsky!" she bellowed, her voice cracking, "Fetch Narcissa and Minerva. As fast as you can, please."
"Yes, Mistress," came a squeaky response, quickly followed by the pop of the house-elf's apparition.
Bellatrix shifted Hermione in her arms, trying to be gentle with the woman in her arms as she made her way up the stairs, unbothered by the rain coming in through the open doors. All she cared about was making sure Hermione would be ok. A tilt of her head was all it took to cast a spell to open the door to a guest room in the manor. She gently placed Hermione on top of the bed as Narcissa rushed in, closely followed by Minerva.
"What happened, Bella?" her sister asked, slightly dishevelled from the abrupt awakening.
"I don't know, she was standing outside, and then she just collapsed. There's blood coming from somewhere on her right side. Maybe she splinched herself, she seemed a bit drunk." The eldest Black allowed her sister and Minerva to move her aside as the words tumbled out of her mouth. She wrung her hands together, watching Narcissa strip the brunette of her shirt to assess the damage as Minerva guided her into a chair.
"Minsky, can you bring me some dittany? It doesn't look infected or too deep. She might need some sutures in some places, but I would say she most likely didn't realise she was bleeding. I can smell the Firewhisky on her, she was definitely drunk," Narcissa assessed, doing a quick check for any other injuries.
Minerva looked at Bellatrix gently. "Did she say anything?"
The dark-haired witch shook her head mutely, eyes locked on Hermione.
Narcissa uncorked the bottle of dittany, pouring it gently over the gash, scrutinising the healing it underwent. "I'll take a suture kit and two blood replenishing potions, please, Minsky."
The house-elf nodded, her ears flopping with the motion before she disappeared, only to reappear in the same spot with her arms full. Narcissa coaxed the potions down Hermione's throat before opening up the suture kit. There were only a few spots that truly needed stitches but she decided it would be best to stitch the whole wound. She could hear the quiet conversation between Minerva and her sister as she worked methodically, noticing Hermione's colour had already improved.
"What do you think she's doing here, Minerva?" Bellatrix whispered, her knees twitching up to her chest before she forced her feet to stay glued to the floor.
"I couldn't say for certain. It's been almost three years since anyone in Britain has heard anything about her whereabouts. Harry and Ron-"
"Please don't tell them," the eldest Black interrupted.
Minerva's lips twitched upward into a small smile, "You know I would never tell Hermione's secrets for her. When she's ready to come back into the world, she will."
Bellatrix sighed, leaning her head in her hands. "Thank you. She's only just come back, I don't want her to run again."
"I know, Bella," the Headmistress whispered, placing a hand on Bellatrix's back and rubbing in small circles.
"She'll be fine. Hungover, but fine," Narcissa said quietly, brushing invisible dust off her robes, "I'll be back in the afternoon to check on her."
"Are you sure you don't want to stay? I know it's late."
Narcissa shook her head delicately, "It's okay, Bella. The students will need to be checked on."
"And we both have patrol duties beginning soon," Minerva added.
Bellatrix nodded tightly, her eyes drifting to the unconscious witch. "Okay. Thank you for coming."
The two witches exchanged a glance with pursed lips but didn't say anything as they grabbed Minsky's hands. Bellatrix had already moved her chair next to the bed, one hand edging toward Hermione. Her fingers fumbled with the hem of her sleeve, a muggle jumper from one of the nights she had spent with Hermione. It was her favourite jumper, one she frequently wore at night when she missed the brunette. Bellatrix brushed her fingertips against Hermione's, a small smile forming on her face. The brunette had changed a lot and not at all in the past three years.
Bellatrix roared in rage as Molly Weasley cast the killing curse at her. Miraculously, she managed to sidestep, purely on instinct as the bloodlust had hold of her mind. She evaded a few more spells, before she felt her Lord's magic fade from the world. With a primal scream at her Lord's demise, Bellatrix cast spells with indiscretion. In her haze, one of her own spells caught the next table, causing her next step to send her off balance. A well-placed spell from someone to the side of her sent her tumbling to the ground, and she remembered feeling rope bind her entire body as her vision went dark.
When she woke up, she pulled against her restraints, her teeth grit and the veins in her neck and face straining. She thrashed and screamed, trying to free herself. Her restraints tightened the more she fought, digging into her skin enough to draw blood. Eventually, she grew too tired and weak to keep thrashing.
"Bellatrix," a soft voice called, one she recognised as her youngest sister's.
The Death Eater snarled, hurling herself against her restraints and refusing to cry out as they dug deeper into her fresh wounds.
"Please, Bella," Narcissa pleaded.
Bellatrix stared at her sister with her teeth bared, the fury pausing at the familiar nickname.
"I talked Kingsley into a pardon with restrictions if you agree to see a soul healer. Please, Bella, I don't want to lose you." Narcissa quickly brushed her thumb over her eye, straightening her robes right after. "You're my sister. And we never should have gone down that path, Bella. I know you did what you had to for our safety. And now it's my turn."
The dark-haired witch let her hair cover most of her face, her muscles twitching as she fought against the rage and pain. She could see her youngest sister struggle not to fidget under the weight of her silence. The Dark Lord was dead, she knew that much for certain. In the absence of his overwhelming magic, she became aware of a sensation she couldn't remember feeling before. Through her hair, she saw her sister let out the slightest of sighs.
"Cissy," she mumbled through grit teeth, just loud enough for her to hear.
"Bella," Narcissa breathed, moving closer to the bars of her cell, "Please say yes."
Bellatrix swallowed hard, still leaning against her restraints. With her Lord gone for good, she didn't exactly like the idea of going back to Azkaban, or the worst case, receiving the Dementor's Kiss. This was her way out. She never considered herself to be a coward, or one to abandon her Lord, but perhaps giving in to his will instead of fighting back was cowardly. She had wanted to protect her sisters, even if she wouldn't admit to caring about Andromeda, and she had gotten sucked in too far. This was her chance to get her family back. To get herself back.
"Okay," she rasped, "I'll do it."
Narcissa laughed and sighed at the same time, bringing her hands up to her mouth. "Thank you, Bella. I'll speak to Kingsley about getting you started. I'll see you soon."
Bellatrix nodded mutely, swallowing the lump in her throat. What had she just agreed to? She could still feel the rage bubbling in the pit of her stomach, knew it would linger for a long time. For the longest time anger was all she had ever known, had been her only companion as she spiralled into the Dark Lord's web. As her sister's footsteps faded, she slumped against the cot she was bound to. She could feel her eyelids growing heavy and she simply didn't have the energy to fight it.
When she next opened her eyes, Bellatrix stared at the ceiling of her cell. She could feel bandages under her restraints, and could tell she was in clean clothes. Her hair was still wild, but it always was.
"Bellatrix," a deep voice called.
Dragging her eyes away from the ceiling, her gaze landed on Kingsley Shacklebolt, and her lip curled in disgust on instinct. "Kingsley."
"Narcissa told me you're willing to see a soul healer."
Bellatrix rolled her eyes, pushing down any snide comments. "I told her I would, yes."
He smiled tightly. "I'm glad. It's important the wizarding world has a fresh start following the war, and Narcissa was quite adamant that you could be part of it."
"You can spare me the speech," she grumbled, "I'm not interested in your politics."
"Very well," he said, pausing to compose himself, "For the time being, you will remain restrained for your sessions and transported by several Aurors. Any attempts to escape will result in immediate relocation to Azkaban while you await a trial."
"Okay," Bellatrix shrugged. She had no intention of trying to escape, it would destroy her family.
Kingsley hummed, gesturing for the Aurors behind him to move closer. He unlocked the cell as three of them went inside, placing shackles of Bellatrix's wrists, ankles, and around her neck before undoing the ones holding her to the cot. Unresisting, she let them pull her to her feet and shuffled in the direction she was herded. Kingsley arched a brow at the scene. He hadn't expected Bellatrix to agree, let alone for her to be so willing.
She was escorted to a plain white door partway down the corridor. Inside was a plain metal table and two rickety metal chairs. She was pushed down into one of them, snarling in warning but otherwise putting up no resistance. Three of the Aurors remained in the room, one behind her and two at each side. Bellatrix stared intently at a small dent in the table, her lip curled slightly and she sat with her muscles tensed.
Metal scraped against stone and she heard the rustling of paper as a feminine voice said, "Mrs. Lestrange-"
"No," she snarled, her head jerking up as she seethed in rage, "Not Lestrange."
The woman blinked, taking a moment to compose herself as the Aurors took a step closer, not unnoticed by Bellatrix. "Black, then?"
Bellatrix nodded, leaning back in her chair and attempting to appear relaxed. She could feel the presence of the Aurors, the inquisitive gaze of the soul healer in front of her.
"We'll be fine, gentlemen," the soul healer said, dismissing the Aurors from the room.
"Ma'am, we were given strict orders by Minister Shacklebolt," the one behind Bellatrix began.
"And I'm sure you'll recognise that while he is the minister, he is not an expert on soul healing. Your presence inside this room is not required and I will thank you to take your leave," she said sternly.
The three Aurors exchanged looks before hesitantly moving to the door. Bellatrix watched them go with barely contained rage, her dark eyes burning holes into the door even after it closed behind them.
"My apologies. I told Kingsley that Aurors would not be necessary during our sessions. I'm Anna," she said, formally introducing herself.
Bellatrix took her eyes away from the door, letting them land slowly on Anna. She studied the woman in silence. From what she could tell, Anna was in her twenties, most likely a Ravenclaw, and quite accomplished despite her young age. The incident with the Aurors was most certainly an attempt at building her trust, a gesture Bellatrix wasn't sure if she appreciated.
"Is there any particular place you'd like to begin?" Anna asked, dipping her quill into the ink pot in front of her.
The Death Eater scoffed, rolling her eyes.
"How about you tell me why you agreed to this?" she coaxed gently.
"My sisters," she grunted simply, adjusting her wrists.
"Sisters? I knew about Narcissa, she was a strong advocate for your rehabilitation. What about your other sister."
Bellatrix tightened her lips, glaring at Anna as she grit out, "Andromeda."
"I see," she said sagely, making a small note, "Do you want to talk about your relationship with Narcissa?"
"She's the youngest. Probably the most composed out of all of us. The only one to make mother and father properly proud. Her husband is a spineless piece of shit and her son took one too many traits from his father. I always watched out for her, made sure that she would be protected from the Dark Lord when he began amassing followers. She's always been the one to patch me up. After fights, after Azkaban. Even now she's trying to patch me up." Bellatrix let out a bitter laugh. "I'm the eldest, I should be patching her up, not the other way around."
"Do you resent her?" Anna asked softly.
Bellatrix thought for a moment, chewing on her lip. "No. I don't. I resent myself for everything I put her through."
"And your other sister? Andromeda. Do you resent her?"
A snarl formed on Bellatrix's face at the mention of her estranged sister. "Andromeda got away from the pureblood state of mind. She thinks she got lucky to escape. Of course I resent her, she left. But I'd take that beating for her over and over again if I had to. I have always protected her, even if she thinks I haven't. And I do hate her, but not for the reason she thinks I do."
Anna furrowed her brows as she continued making notes. "You hate her for leaving?"
"I hate her for leaving without us. We used to have a plan, you know. A plan that guaranteed Andromeda and Narcissa would get away from that. And there was a good chance I would've been able to join them. But then she left. She abandoned us. And if she hadn't, then Narcissa could have gotten away, too." Bellatrix gripped the edge of the table as tightly as she could, feeling the cold metal biting into her skin.
"Why wasn't it guaranteed that you would be able to join them?"
Bellatrix's dark eyes fixated on Anna, boring into her. "My father was a cruel man, perhaps crueller than the Dark Lord. He never would've stopped looking for us. If I stayed behind and took the beatings, been a good daughter, they could've stayed away. Then Andromeda met that mudblood and had to leave so father wouldn't find out. But he did. And who protected her from his rage? I did."
"Does Andromeda know?" Anna asked cautiously.
"Does she fuck," Bellatrix scoffed, bringing her hands onto her lap and shifting her body away from Anna.
Anna nodded, wiggling her quill in her hands. "This has been a great start, Ms. Black. I'll be back again next week to continue. I know this is not an easy thing to do and I am not here to rush things. When you feel like you need to stop, we will."
"I'm not weak," she hissed, leaning forward over the table menacingly.
"I was not implying that you are. I'm merely stating the fact that this process cannot be rushed and you must move at your own pace. Some days will be easy for you and others will be difficult. You must learn and listen to your soul's limits and until then I will do my best to stop a session before we go too far," Anna said softly but firmly.
Bellatrix continued to glare at the young witch across from her, studying her with dark eyes. "Why are you here? I know you've heard the stories about me. What makes you think I can be healed?"
"You're here, aren't you? Even if for right now you agreed because of your sister, I think in time you'll start to do this for yourself." She stacked her papers, tapping the bottom edge against the table.
"You didn't answer my first question," the Death Eater pointed out.
Anna sighed, fixing Bellatrix with a strange look. "I think that's best saved for another day."
Bellatrix huffed, shifting her body away again. Anna gathered the rest of her things, the metal chair scraping against the floor as she stood. She wasn't quite sure what to make of Bellatrix yet. The witch seemed erratic, and too in touch with her rage than any person should be. Anna could sense there was something deeper than her just being a Death Eater, but she could only uncover things as Bellatrix allowed her to. Pushing her too far, especially this early, would end the process before it began. As Anna opened the door, the Aurors outside rushed in, quickly surrounding Bellatrix and roughly pulling her to her feet.
The dark-haired witch curled her lips into a snarl but didn't make a move to retaliate. She knew what was at stake, even if she felt every muscle in her body burning with the desire to fight back. Her sister fought to get her this opportunity, the least she could do was try. She was roughly escorted back to her cell, her restraints left on but she was glad to be able to move around instead of being restricted to the bed. She looked forward to the day when she didn't need the restraints at all. Her wrists and ankles were sore from the weight on her wounds that were semi-self-inflicted, and she could feel her collarbone chafing.
Bellatrix awoke to the sun peeking around the drapes in the room. With a flick of her wrist, the drapes adjusted to block the light. The dark-haired witch stretched with a groan. She didn't remember falling asleep, and she certainly didn't remember doing so while sitting in a chair. Her eyes landed on Hermione, the younger witch still unconscious but her chest rising and falling with a normal rhythm. A small smile graced Bellatrix's face as she looked at the brunette. She had missed Hermione, had regretted the way they had last parted all those years ago. She wondered how things would've been if it had never happened.
Shaking the thought out of her head, Bellatrix summoned Minsky to bring breakfast to her, along with a basin of water and a cloth. As Minsky prepared breakfast, Bellatrix took great care to clean the grime off Hermione. It was something she should've done last night, but her priority was making sure she was ok. She gently scrubbed the brunette clean, removing her clothes but leaving her undergarments. Bellatrix could see the rough protrusions of Hermione's ribs and hips, a frown forming on her face as she put her in a clean jumper and sweatpants.
"What's been going on, Hermione?" she whispered to the room, shaking her head to distract herself from the pinprick sensation at the corner of her eyes.
She settled back into the chair next to the bed, brushing Hermione's shoulder with her fingertips. Silence engulfed the room as she waited for breakfast, her eyes fixed on the brunette. Quietly, Minsky placed Bellatrix's breakfast on the nightstand next to her, bowing to the witch as she provided them privacy. She knew the...complicated relationship between the two witches, remembered how distraught Bellatrix was when Hermione left.
Bellatrix picked at her breakfast as she kept an eye on Hermione, waiting for any sign of her waking up. She was dying to know what was going through the younger witch's head, was tempted to lecture her about drunk apparition because honestly, for being one of the smartest witches alive she sure could be an idiot sometimes. Bellatrix couldn't help but let out a dry chuckle at the thought.
Hermione let out a quiet groan, her head pounding and her side feeling tight. She kept her eyes closed as a wave of nausea passed over her, gently peeling her eyelids back a fraction to see where she was.
"Bella?" she asked, her eyes opening the rest of the way, "What-"
"Take a breath, love," Bellatrix soothed quickly, "You showed up last night. Drunk and bleeding. I brought you inside and had Narcissa patch you up."
Hermione groaned, dragging her hands down her face. "Before you lecture me about anything at least let me have a hangover potion."
"I'm not going to lecture you, Hermione. I was tempted, don't get me wrong. But there's nothing to say that you don't already know." Bellatrix passed the brunette a potion, keeping them stocked in all the rooms in the event of hungover guests.
She downed it with a grimace, wincing at the taste. "I'm sorry. If I worried you."
Bellatrix watched her fiddle with the empty potion bottle, her amber eyes carefully fixated on her hands as she turned the bottle over and over. "I'm just glad you're okay."
The soft whisper had Hermione tearing her gaze away from her hands and to the older witch at the side of the bed. "Even after everything that happened? After everything I said to you?"
Bellatrix placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "I know you didn't mean it. It was the heat of the moment, and we both said things we shouldn't have. I'm just glad you're back."
"I wasn't going to come back," Hermione whispered, pulling her knees to her chest and holding them tightly, "I wasn't ready to come back. After everything I said to you, I haven't forgiven myself for it. All the hurt I caused you. I never meant to hurt you, Bella. And I've hated myself for it. But last night I just- I missed you too much to keep myself from coming back. There have been so many nights where I've wanted to come back, I just wasn't brave enough to face what I had done to you."
"Oh, Hermione," Bellatrix sighed, moving onto the bed and embracing the younger witch, "You didn't say a single word that wasn't true. I've spent every single night wondering where you were and if you would come back. You've got nothing to hate yourself for, love."
The brunette sniffled, leaning stiffly against the former Death Eater. "I went to look for my parents."
"Did you find them?" Bellatrix asked, smoothing Hermione's hair.
She shook her head, biting her lip and squeezing her eyelids shut against the pricking sensation.
"Oh, love, it's okay," the older witch cooed, wrapping the brunette tighter in her arms.
Hermione buried her face in Bellatrix's shoulder, her body shaking as sobs wracked her thin frame. "It's all my fault."
"You did what you had to do, Hermione. You know that. If you want to keep looking, I'll help you. You don't have to do it alone." Bellatrix pulled Hermione fully into her lap, rubbing circles over her back. "Just let it out, love."
"What if I never find them, Bella? What if I can never undo what I did?" Hermione whimpered between sobs.
"Some things we just have to learn to live with, Hermione, you know that better than most. We need to take things one step at a time and we aren't near those steps, okay?" Bellatrix whispered in her ear, tangling a hand in the brown tangles and massaging Hermione's scalp.
Hermione hiccuped, burying her face deeper in Bellatrix's shoulder. The older witch was such a familiar presence even after the years she had spent away that she couldn't help relaxing into her. She was surrounded by everything Bellatrix, the smell of old books and toothpaste gently lingering in the air. Bellatrix rocked them back and forth ever so slightly, humming softly the way she used to when Hermione had a particularly hard day.
"I've missed you, Bella," she breathed, "I shouldn't have run."
"It's okay, love. You're here now. All is forgiven, it always has been. I've missed you, too, and I'm so happy to see you again." Bellatrix placed a soft kiss on the top of Hermione's head, squeezing the brunette reassuringly.
Hermione squeezed her back, pressing her forehead against the cool skin of Bellatrix's neck. "I know I hurt you, Bella, I know I shouldn't have left after our fight."
"Hermione, don't torture yourself with those thoughts. You did what you needed to do and there's no shame in that. You know I'll always understand," the former Death Eater murmured.
The brunette nodded against Bellatrix's neck. "I know you will. Have you been okay?"
"I have. I've missed you, of course, but I know you always come back when you're ready. I've had two books published, it's been nice but now a lot of people are trying to worm their way in," she answered, absently stroking Hermione's hair.
"I read them both. Bought them as soon as they came out." Hermione's voice was muffled but understandable.
Bellatrix smiled. "Of course you did. I shouldn't be surprised."
"I loved them. I've lost track of how many times I read through them. I only have a few notes."
"I wouldn't have it any other way," Bellatrix chuckled, leaning back against the headboard, "Go on then."
Hermione sat up straighter, leaning into Bellatrix's side. "Your theory on spell creation didn't include the increased success when new spells are created using a combination of runes and incantations."
"Yes, but incantation alone can be successful using the Bridel method of spell creation," Bellatrix retorted, "Which is the most stable and accepted method to date."
"The Bridel method has been proven to be ineffective for the creation of new charms. It's perfectly suited to magic that borders on dark, but for those with wands containing a unicorn hair core, the Bridel method almost always backfires. Even if you alter the Bridel method as you suggest, the success rate for unicorn hair cores is significantly lower than any other wand core. The basis of the Bridel method is rooted in dark magic and is innately incompatible and makes it borderline dangerous," Hermione pointed out.
"Which is why people with unicorn hair cores need to take the extra precautions when setting the intent for the first time. It can be used successfully." The older witch felt the corner of her mouth twitch upward. It had been a long time since she had a proper debate about magical theory of any kind.
Hermione sat up straighter, shifting so she was facing Bellatrix. "Right, and it works sometimes, but the success rate dramatically increases when runes are incorporated. Given the amount of knowledge and skill required for spell creation, anyone making a proper attempt would be proficient in runes and able to utilise them to optimise the process."
"But if you incorporate runes into the casting process the magic becomes more inaccessible during times of need. If you had to do a combination of runes and incantation the spell becomes impractical during high stakes situations." Bellatrix had a full smile on her face now, confident she had stumped the brunette.
Hermione opened her mouth to respond, quickly closing it and furrowing her brows. She thought back to everything she knew about magic, wracking her brain for a counterpoint.
"Well, it certainly didn't take either of you long to get back into the debates," Narcissa interrupted, her head feeling impossibly full from what she had overhead. She was much more inclined toward potions and herbology, but spell creation certainly wasn't her area of expertise. "It hasn't even been a day yet."
"Cissy," Bellatrix said, smiling broadly at her youngest sister before whispering to Hermione with a sly wink, "Gotcha."
Hermione frowned at the older witch, still trying to come up with an argument as she ignored the butterflies in her stomach.
"I take it you're feeling better if you have the energy to debate with Bellatrix," Narcissa directed at the brunette as she adjusted her sleeves.
"I'm a bit sore, but honestly, it's not that bad," Hermione said, suddenly aware of how close she was to Bellatrix.
Narcissa arched a brow as she produced fresh bandages. "You've not seen it then. I had to give you stitches from your hip to the middle of your ribs. And you've not been eating enough. You're to take a specialised potion twice a day until I say otherwise, Minsky already has the recipe and is making a few batches. Don't you dare tell me you're fine, Hermione. It doesn't take a genius to tell you haven't been taking care of yourself. Now that you're back, it's not going to fly. As if Bellatrix would let you neglect yourself the way you clearly have been."
Hermione's cheeks reddened in shame as Bellatrix scolded, "Cissy, that's not necessary."
The blonde witch sighed, "I am sorry for my bluntness, but the condition you're in is worrisome, Hermione."
"It's okay," she mumbled, "I haven't been taking very good care of myself."
"The potions will help stimulate your appetite and supplement nutrients until you're able to eat properly. Take them before breakfast and tea. Now, let me change your dressing," she said with a little more softness.
Hermione stretched out on her side, lifting her shirt to reveal the large dressing on her side. Narcissa gingerly removed the old bandage, using magic to clean the dried blood that had accumulated. She applied a viscous salve before redressing the wound with the clean bandages securing it after making sure the stitches were still intact and there was no infection.
"You'll need to take it easy for a few days. I know any attempt to put you on bed rest will be for nought, but try not to do any activity that might pop a stitch. The salve I put on will help speed up the healing process. As long as you don't develop an infection, I'd say you'll be back on your feet properly in less than a week," she explained, pulling the hem of Hermione's shirt down.
"Thank you, Cissa," Hermione whispered, pushing herself back up to a sitting position.
Bellatrix draped an arm over Hermione, watching the younger witch for signs of discomfort.
"You're welcome, Hermione. It's good to have you back," Narcissa said, "Get some rest and have something to eat."
"I will," she whispered, feeling herself relax into Bellatrix and her eyes grow heavy again. She stifled a yawn under the gaze of the two older witches, rubbing her cheek against Bellatrix's shoulder.
Narcissa and Bellatrix exchanged a glance, with the blonde witch mouthing a few words to her sister before giving the two witches some privacy. Bellatrix coaxed Hermione onto her side. She felt bad disentangling herself from Hermione's arms, lying down next to her and holding her close.
"Will you stay?" came a quiet whisper against her neck.
"Of course I will," Bellatrix whispered back, fighting the chill that threatened to go down her spine.
Hermione wiggled until she was comfortable, keeping her face pressed firmly against the older witch and her arms wrapped tightly around her. Bellatrix felt another small smile form on her face as Hermione fell asleep in her arms, the gentle rise and fall of her chest lulling Bellatrix into a nap as well.