Introductory bollocks:

Welcome to my new long-form Bellamione story! This work is a little different than my usual fare. Basically it is a retelling of the story of Alan Wake, one of my favourite games, as a Bellamione adventure. Bit self-conscious about it, really, since its not my story per say, rather one I've made my own of a sort. A few points of note:

1. There is absolute no need to have played Alan Wake to follow the story. It is complete and self-contained and no prior knowledge is necessary. Though readers who have played the game will likely recognize locations, characters, bits of dialogue and even descriptive text from Alan's pages, these are meant to be more like easter eggs.
2. This story does follow the course of the game and its two DLCs, though a lot of liberties have been taken to make the Bellamione aspect work as well as making some interpretations to the game's events and characters which might be very different from what it shown in the game. In short, though the story is certainly not a 100% the same as the game, the story will definitely contain story spoilers for the game. So be aware of that if you intend on playing it. Which I wholeheartedly recommend, by the way. The game recently had a remaster released and it's very much worth checking out.
3. Bellatrix will essentially have the same role as Alan while Hermione will have the same role as Alice. Most of the rest of the characters are from the game, with one notable exception since it wouldn't make much sense to have him around. You can probably tell from the tags which HP character will fill the shoes of Barry Wheeler. :)
4. Don't expect Bellatrix to suddenly light up and gun down hordes of creatures like in a video game. Conscious choice has been made to keep the action smaller of scale and thus a little more impactful. Though, to be honest, Bellatrix as an old soldier with magical powers could have managed far better against a horde than an alcoholic writer with zero combat experience.
5. The story is fully canon compliant. You'll find out why this is over the course of the story.

Usual disclaimer bollocks: Alan Wake is owned by Remedy Entertainment and its lead writer Sam Lake.

Updates will be once a week, every Saturday.

Lastly, I hope you will enjoy reading the story!

Fall into Darkness

Chapter 1: Dramatis Personae

For decades, the darkness had slept fitfully in the dark place that was its home and prison. It was hungry and in pain. It dreamed of its night of glory when the poet's writing had called it from the depths and had given it a brief, terrible taste of power and freedom. The rock stars had stirred it from the deep sleep the poet had sunk it back to into end. When it sensed the witch on the ferry, it once again opened its eyes.


Darkness.

Surrounded by all-encompassing, all-devouring darkness.

She was dreaming. Bellatrix was lucid enough to realize that. Other than that, everything was a haze. A haze shrouded in darkness.

She was running. Running away from something. She didn't know from what. She didn't know much of anything. All she knew was that she needed to reach the lighthouse.

It loomed in front of her like, a beacon in the dark, drawing her in. It was the only safe place left in a world that was being devoured by sheer nothingness. Still, it might as well be miles away, the only path leading to it being a series of rickety wooden bridges criss-crossing over several small islands over a thirty foot drop into the dark churning waters below. Seriously, how did this make any practical sense? Things like this could only exist in a dream.

She was running. Bellatrix didn't quite know why. Running to get to that lighthouse. Desperate to get to it. This was a dream. She knew this. Why was she so bothered?

"Keep running, Bella. The road leads to nowhere."

That voice.

Bellatrix came to a stop, only now realizing she was stood on an asphalt muggle road of all things. Slowly, almost reluctantly, she looked over her shoulder.

Some ten feet away stood Sirius of all people, his body wreathed in darkness, his form and voice distorted. She could not see his face, but honestly she didn't need to to determine his demeanour.

"You won't escape it, Bella. You can never escape it. You will never reach it."

Bellatrix snorted through her nose. "Big talk coming from a dead man," she sneered back.

A shout came, pure darkness emanating from him which barrelled towards her like waves upon the ground, smashing the asphalt into dust.

Even though this was a dream, Bellatrix knew better than to stand its path. With no wand, the only recourse was to run forward with as much speed as her legs could carry her. Thankfully, this was not one of those annoying dreams where running felt like moving through an atmosphere made from pure molasses. The moment the dark witch jumped onto the rickety wooden bridge, she felt it start to sway as the ropes strained to hold even her admittedly slight weight. She quickly grabbed hold of the sides, staring down into the roaring waters below.

Seriously, dreams of drowning were even more annoying that dreams where one couldn't run.

Much more slowly that she would have liked, Bellatrix made her way over to the bridge while behind her a massive dark storm was brewing. Daring to look over her shoulder, she saw the dark Sirius stood at the other end of the bridge amid a surging tornado. It caused the bridge to sway back and forth at an alarming rate, the ropes holding it in place straining under the pressure. She was almost at the other end when a gust of dark wind almost blew her straight into the water below.

"Hurry!" sounded ahead of her, a voice she didn't recognize. A man clad in a green jacket and with patches on the side of his arms stood there, holding out his hand. Though she couldn't make out his face, she did recognize his uniform from a picture she had seen: the man was a forest ranger.

Bellatrix got off the bridge just in time to hear the ropes snap and plummet down into the dark waters below. Unfortunately, the storm was not showing any signs of dying down.

"Quick!" said the ranger. "Inside."

Inside? Bellatrix wondered, only to suddenly see a ranger cabin in front of her. A ranger cabin. On an island of rock some thirty meters across and high above the sea? Dream logic, that. Nevertheless, she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth and rushed inside to see shelter from the storm. Immediately, the door slammed shut behind her, trapping the ranger outside. Of course, that's how these things went in dreams, after all. She looked out of the window and saw the ranger screaming into the dark.

Sirius was there now, still wreathed in darkness. In his hands was… was that an axe? It was! The ranger continued to scream while pounding on the room, begging to be let in.

Sirius raised the axe and swung it down hard. The sound of the axe-head smashing through bone and meeting the wetness of squishy brains sent a shudder through Bellatrix. In her life, she had seen many cruelties: horrid burns, shattered bones, corpses with severed limbs. But those were all from the battlefield. Even so, battles with magic were generally clean. Chopping someone up with an axe generally did not happen in the kind of combat she had been in. And, useless animal as he was, she had to admit this certainly did not fit Sirius' style.

A cackle came from the thing that was Sirius from the other side of the door. "You can't run from the darkness, Bella. It's already inside of you. It already has a hold of you!"

In involuntary shudder went through Bellatrix when the axe was swung again, this time at the door. Though the door was sturdy enough, the second hit sent splinters into the room as the tip of the bloodied axe-handle smashed through it.

It would only be a matter of time before Sirius would find his way in. Best to make herself scarce before that would happen. Rather conveniently, there was another door on the opposite side of the cabin. Rather inconveniently, it was locked.

While she was fiddling with the door, she took note of a poster taped to it. A diver, wearing an old time copper helmet was drifting down into the depths below with the words 'Tom the Poet' written over it. This poster seemed… oddly out of place, even for a dream. Looking at it made her calm down somewhat, the darkness surrounding her seemingly not wanting to go near it. It calmed her enough so that she could concentrate and cast a wandless spell of unlocking, opening the door with a satisfying 'snick'. The moment the door was unlocked, she rushed through it…

only to find herself stood in front of a large road leading to a wooden bridge to the lighthouse. Well, that's more dream logic for you.

But, she was not alone. All around her, the storm raged but for this tiny part of the road. A bright light hovered above her and, at first, she thought it to be the lighthouse, only to realize that this ball of light was something different entirely. Like the poster, Bellatrix got the strong sense that this… thing… shouldn't be here.

A male voice sounded out. "I have become part of your dream, but I cannot stay long. The Darkness is asleep, but it will awake soon. You will be tested."

"What… what are you?" Bellatrix demanded.

"Make your way to the lighthouse. Stay in the light," said the ball of light before it faded out of existence. The moment it did, the storm whipped up again, blasted her mess of curly hair right into her face.

Sirius was back, behind her, at the end of the road and at the heart of a massive tornado. A massive tornado unnaturally blowing many heavy muggle objects about. "I CAN KEEP THIS UP FOREVER, BELLA!" shouted Sirius, just as Bellatrix ducked to one side to dodge a large metal container which smashed the asphalt on the spot where she'd just stood.

She rushed forward, running towards the lighthouse while all around her more and more muggle objects smashed down. Worse was when she stepped onto the wooden bridge, the wind and the objects threatening to tear it down right from under her feet. More than once, she felt herself almost being hoist up into the air and into the storm. The Lighthouse, the beacon, it beckoned her. She had to get there. She had to enter the light.

Such a relief it was when she finally made it to the door and entered the most brightest room she had ever laid her eyes upon. For that instant, she felt safe. She felt warm. She felt… healed. "Belle," sounded the voice of an angel. Hermione. "Belle…" sounded again.

Bellatrix closed her eyes. But when she opened it again, the light was gone. She was surrounded by darkness, devoured by it.

"Belle…" sounded the voice again, now so dull, distorted and far away.

When she turned around to follow the sound of Hermione's voice, all she saw was the flash of an axe swinging right at her face.


"Belle, wake up!" sounded as a groggy Bellatrix started awake. Gone was the dream, the lighthouse and axe, as she found herself sat next to Hermione in their family car. "You're missing the view."

"Hmm," Bellatrix stretched.

"Bad dreams again?" asked Hermione. "You were mumbling about darkness surrounding you."

"It's nothing," shrugged Bellatrix. Perhaps it was a good idea to simply enjoy the view for a moment. Sure, they could have taken a Portkey to their holiday cabin, that would mean she would have missed this fantastic view. And it was indeed fantastic.

Bellatrix peered out of the window of the car as it had been parked on a ferry traversing the waters of the hillside forests of Washington state. There were thick forests and then there were the thickest of forests: the landscape she was looking at fell squarely into the latter category. The pine trees lining the hills and the valleys below filled the land in its sheer bright green magnificence. Wisps of mist draping the side of the hills gave them a distinct otherworldly appearance. And to think people back home still called this 'the new world', despite thick Americans forests having a distinct very old appearance.

Still, the beauty outside was nothing compared to the sight of the person next to her.

Hermione had been driving, as usual. Eyes locked firmly onto the road as she navigated their family car, a trusty old Toyota Sienna, over the windy roads. The Toyota Sienna was a small car by American standards, bought second hand and getting on in years, but Hermione was far more comfortable handling it. Though they were, essentially, living off Bellatrix' inheritance, Hermione had insisted on getting a 'normal car for normal people'.

Hah, as if anything about either of them could be considered remotely normal.

Bellatrix was reasonably certain that falling in love with your case-worker was not usual by any means. But how could she not when said case-worker had dedicated her entire life to a lost cause? Especially a lost cause as undeserving as she was. And then to have that love reciprocated. Yet, here she was. Beautiful, smart and now fast approaching the age of thirty, which was apparently the worst thing in the world ever.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Hermione.

Bellatrix smirked slightly. "Oh, nothing. Just counting your crow's feet."

Hermione gave her that harsh sideways glare Bellatrix loved to see on her beloved's face so much.

"Bitch," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Correct," Bellatrix chuckled.

"I hope you're not going to be like this all week."

"You know you love it."

Hermione had found what seemed to be the ideal vacation spot for a romantic getaway. A cabin located in the depths of the woods, far away from everything and yet having enough luxury to simply enjoy a quiet rest for an entire week. Likely, they wouldn't get out of bed before noon and, truthfully, that would suit her just fine. Or, perhaps she would simply troll Hermione by waking up extra early to go on a long morning run and drag her along. She hadn't decided yet.

"Come on, let's take a few pictures," suggested Hermione. The ferry itself was large enough to hold only a few cars at the time and currently they were the only passengers the ferry had. A man who looked to be older than Dumbledore was sat in a small raised control booth and waved at them. "Stand by the railing, Belle," said Hermione, her muggle camera at the ready. So, Bellatrix did as she was told and leaned on the railing. The tell-tale clicks of the camera sounded as Hermione took pictures of her stood against a backdrop of mountains and forests.

It was honestly a strange muggle thing to want to document everything, but she wouldn't question it. Besides, the dark witch was quite happy with her new look she had adopted a few years ago. It had taken Hermione a long time to convince her to drop her usual corset and dress for something more practical: jeans, boots, a shirt and over it all a long leather trenchcoat permanently open in the front. Though, of course, she hadn't shed the habit of wearing all black, she certainly felt like she was presentable. The only remnant of her old past was her silver jackdaw skull pendant hung from her neck, a family heirloom she was loathe to part with.

After Hermione was done taking her pictures she joined her at the railing and they stood together as the ferry approached its destination. The sign reading 'Welcome to Bright Falls' came into view, right next to the ferry's dock. Good Merlin, the sign actually seemed larger than the town itself. Bright Falls was a tiny town, apparently a center for shopping and relaxation for the many single dwellings dotted around the countryside. Bellatrix looked over the town and spotted a police station, a church, some sort of wharf sporting all manner of canneries in buildings looking ready to fall apart and… oh no, a bookstore…

Glancing to her right, Bellatrix could already see that Hermione had spotted it by the way her eyes lingered. No doubt she'd want to visit it sooner rather than later, as she had a penchant to collect books regarding local topics of every place they visited.

As the ferry docked, the two women took back to their vehicle only to come to a stop again a few yards further in front of a diner which looked as cliche an American diner as could be. A sign above read 'Oh Deer Diner'. Rolling her eyes at the horrible pun, Bellatrix followed Hermione inside, where further cliches about American diners were instantly confirmed: wood-grain walls, ancient coffee boiling in the machine, horrible neon signs and uncomfortable looking booths in desperate need of a wipe. A display in the back contained old mining equipment.

Though her therapy involved getting out more and moving among muggles in the muggle world, Bellatrix was still somewhat skittish around them. Thankfully, there were only a few people in the diner and they paid the two women very little mind.

A young woman was behind the counter. Clad in a red dress while wearing the nametag 'Rose', she greeted them with a warm, if somewhat plastic, smile. "Good afternoon, ladies. How are you doing today?" she spoke in her best customer service voice.

"Fine thanks," said Hermione. "We're Hermione Granger and Bellatrix Black. We've been told we could pick up the key to Bird Leg Cabin here."

"Ah, yes," said Rose, eyes lighting up. "I was told to expect you."

"Hermione?" asked Bellatrix. "It's almost five o'clock. How about having dinner here this evening? I hate to settle in just have to leave the cabin again to fetch groceries."

"We've got ya covered," said Rose while giving Hermione the key to their cabin. "Find yourself a nice booth and I'll come take your order shortly."

The two witches found a nice corner booth at the window, nestled against the wall right next the restrooms. Apparently, one of the lights in the corridor leading towards the restrooms had gone out, leaving it slightly darkened. Bellatrix settled into the booth after taking off and draping her coat over one of the empty seats. She let her eyes rove over the menu, while Rose had joined them to take their order.

"Hm," said Bellatrix. "I've never heard of a Deer Burger. Is it just a name or is there actual deer in that burger?"

"I'm proud to tell you that we use every part of the deer for our delicious, seasonal delectable dishes!" said Rose, sounding just a tad over-rehearsed.

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "Does that mean… there's ground-up deer cock in the burgers?" she asked.

Opposite to her, Hermione groaned slightly. "Belle, please…"

"No, no," replied Rose. "We only put those in the hot dogs."

Bellatrix snorted briefly. The waitress had a sense of humour, then.

"Two Deer Burgers, please," said Hermione.

Rose jotted the down the order before looking up at them again. "You gals aren't from around here, are you? Visiting from England?"

Bellatrix and Hermione exchanged another look. "We actually live in Helena," smiled Hermione. "We, uhm, are American these days. We both of us felt we needed a fresh start."

"Indeed," said Bellatrix, speaking with a deliberately exaggerated Mancunian accent. "Fully naturalized citizens of this great land of ours! That's well mint and top banana, innit? We did the test and everything. There are one hundred U.S. Senators."

"The Supreme Court is the highest court in the United States," added Hermione.

"The Declaration of Independence was adopted on the 4th of July, 1776," Bellatrix nodded.

"The ocean on the West Coast is called the Pacific," Hermione added helpfully, with a smile.

Bellatrix chuckled briefly. "The best president the USA ever had was Ronald Raymond."

That instantly earned her a glare from Hermione. "Belle, that is wrong on so many levels!" she huffed.

Bellatrix matched her glare. "That's because you're a Communist Pinko who hates freedom!" she said, before winking at Rose. "Am I being a proper Yank yet, luv?"

"Fittin' right in, hun," smiled Rose. "I'll get your order served shortly."

After Rose took their orders and left, Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, while you're being all patriotic, Belle, I shall visit the Ladies for a spell," she said, getting out of the booth. Bellatrix turned her gaze upon the town outside while Hermione disappeared into the darkened hallway right near their booth.

Her Hermione had been charitable, as always. While it was true that both women were in need of a fresh start, the reason was leaving the country had far more to do with the fact that the public outcry again the 'Rehabilitation Program' had reached a boiling point, with a lot of people being of opinion that people like Bellatrix didn't deserve leniency or mercy.

And perhaps they were right.

Bellatrix knew she would be on probation for the rest of her life. Hermione was still writing almost daily reports to the Ministry back home on her state of mind, actions and behavioural patterns and, well, that was something which would never end either. Not with someone like her own infernal niece Nymphadora constantly looking for excuses to get her thrown out of the Program to be locked up in the depths of Azkaban once more.

She was lucky to have Hermione. She was lucky to have a high level of freedom.

There were times she felt she didn't deserve either.

Then there was that awkward moment of being sat alone in the diner waiting for her food to arrive. One could only read a menu so many times before it became silly to do so, after all, and waiting could cause awkward moments like these to take forever. First she reached over to her coat and pulled out her diary. It had been a gift from Hermione. Something to help her give her focus and a creative outlet. She could record her thoughts, write a short story or make a quick sketch to have a creative outlet during tense times or just when she felt like it. This was diary number… she lost count… she had went through at least a dozen of these leather-bound books over the past decade.

A salt-shaker seemed to be an excellent subject for a sketch. The pencil flew over the page as the salt-shaker started to take shape on the page. She added a background, added volume and shading and soon enough she had a life-like pencil sketch of the Oh Deer Diner's lovely saltshaker. In fact, she had it done a little too soon for her liking: she had barely passed three minutes of the time. So, after blowing out a load of air through the side of her mouth to cause some wayward curly locks to sway away from her cheeks, Bellatrix glanced around the room for a bit to find an outlet for her quickly mounting anxiety. Honestly, she was still skittish around muggles and always felt a bit better when seated close to the exit… which was on the other side of the room.

To the right of her was a sign advertising the local Deerfest. In two weeks time, there's be floats, markets, attractions and whatever more a Deerfest would entail. Apparently this year would be the 68th iteration. She and Hermione would be home again a week from now and thus miss it all. Bellatrix snorted to herself. Such a shame. How unfortunate.

There were a few other people in the diner with them. Rose, of course, and sat at the counter was what looked to be a forest ranger, judging by the uniform. An elderly couple was sat near the window and three more people just came in. Bellatrix cursed herself for suggesting to stay here for dinner: the diner was bound to fill up with people around this time, after all.

Her eyes were quickly drawn to two elderly men who looked distinctively out of place: seated in a booth near the jukebox, the two men looked to be at least a hundred-and-fifty years old and clad in jeans and leather jackets. Bellatrix frowned and narrowed her eyes: something about those two old men was rather familiar, though she couldn't lay a finger on it at first. Her dark eyes locked with blue eyes of one of the two men. Slowly and quietly, he lay a closed fist on the table and opened it, causing slight magic sparkles to spew forth.

Of course. Wizards had a tendency to pick out other wizards in a crowd. Instantly, Bellatrix felt a bit more at ease, before she felt even more awkward. The elderly man's demonstration was obviously meant as an invitation to come over for a chat, but the longer she lingered the more awkward this would become. Well, best to bite the wand and head over. With some trepidation, she got up from her seat and slowly made her way to their booth.

"Howdy ma'am," greeted the man whom had locked eyes with her, him being the more physically imposing of the two… insofar a near bi-centennial could look imposing. The other man, a rather energetic one bearing an eye-patch over his right eye, seemed to be focused more on his steak. "A wonderful and witchy day, isn't it?"

"I'll say," Bellatrix crossed her arms. These days, blood status didn't quite matter to her as much, but knowing there were some more magical folks around did brighten her mood considerably, especially if they were friendly. "My girl and I are having a right witchy time."

The man nodded in understanding. "Hey!" the man spoke with an accent Bellatrix couldn't quite place. Under the table, he kicked the other man against the shin. "Odin, get your head out of your ass and greet our new witchy visitor."

"Oh?" spoke the man named Odin. "Well, hello there!"

Odin? Odin… Could it be. Bellatrix cocked her head sideways, her mind going a mile a minute. Though older, the facial structure matched. Could they really be? Well, she supposed that the only way to find out was to ask. "If your name is Odin then… your name wouldn't happen to be Tor, would it?"

The man's smile brightened considerably. "Tor and Odin Andersen," he confirmed.

Bellatrix blinked once. Twice. Before sitting down at the booth next to Odin. "Old Gods of Asgard!" she replied. "My sisters and I used to listen to your albums all the time back in the Seventies! Right up until you just disappeared."

"Hey, Tor!" bounced the rather energetic Odin. "She's a fan!"

"All three of us loved Celestial Wrath and Fury," said Bellatrix. "Why'd you never make another one after that?"

The two old men shared a look. "Eh," said Tor. "After Balder died, it was never quite the same. And Loki was becoming intolerable. Don't even know where he is now. Probably doing a line of coke of a Tijuana hooker's ass, knowing him."

Imagine that. A chance encounter with the last remaining members of a world famous wizarding band she and her sisters had loved to listen to. Right here in the middle of nowhere in a diner with an awful pun name. What were the odds of that?

"Are these two old fogies bothering you, ma'am?" sounded another voice. Bellatrix looked up to see the forest ranger standing at their table. He was a middle-aged chap, a bit softer around the belly area than a ranger should be and with a hat that seemed a bit too big for his head.

"Nah, man," Tor rolled his eyes. "She's just a fan, Rusty."

"A fan?" the ranger named Rusty raised his eyebrow.

"Oh, yes," replied Bellatrix. "Do you realize how big Old Gods of Asgard were in the day? Bigger than Merlin, man!"

Rusty blinked. "Uh, Merlin? You mean the magician? I thought the spoon-bender guy from Israel was the biggest magician."

Bellatrix shook her head, snorting through her nose. "Unbelievable…"

"Anyway, we've already called the clinic, guys. Dr. Hartman's sent the orderlies to come fetch you. Again." Rusty crossed his arms and chuckled.

Odin winked at him with his one good eye. "We'll just escape. Again."

"Really, I don't know why they bother locking the doors at all," Tor snorted.

Bellatrix looked up to give Rusty a questioning look, prompting him to tell the rest of the story. Apparently, Tor and Odin were living at the Cauldron Lake Lodge, a small upscale mental health clinic for troubled artists. Though it seemed as if Tor and Odin basically came and went as they pleased, since muggles were never that good at keeping wizards locked away. This 'Dr. Hartman' apparently specialized in therapies for creative people, helping them come down to reality or even through blocks. A shame, really. The Andersons struck her as a little too wild to be contained at a clinic.

"Well, it was fun while it lasted," sighed Tor. "At least we'll get to finish our steaks this time."

"Oh, Bella!" Odin raved. "Would you do me a kindness and press C4 on the jukebox? I'd do it myself, but my legs… bad circulation, you see?"

"Of course," said Bellatrix. After making her way to the jukebox, she found the C4 button and pressed it. The muggle machinery whirled to life, the mechanical arm moving to pick up the vinyl record to play, only to get stuck on the way down. No matter. A quick nudge with some wandless magic expressed through a subtle snap of her fingers and the record eventually started to play. Bellatrix was expecting a rock-song at least, but was surprised to be met with a peppy song about putting lime in a coconut.

"Yes!" Odin started tapping along on the wooden table. "This is my jam! Thanks, Bella!"

Tor looked at if he was about to strangle his brother. "Goddammit, Odin! You call yourself a fucking rocker?"

Bellatrix shrugged. "Unexpected, but if it's what he wants…."

Tor sat back and sighed. "I am in hell…"

The dark witch said her goodbyes, glad to have met the two gentlemen. But back in her own seat and with time to reflect, a touch of shame came over her: here she was, in a strange land with strange people and she had made a complete spectacle of herself. Bellatrix closed her eyes and sighed through her nose: if her ongoing re-socialisation course had taught her anything it was to be less impulsive and reflect more often. Of course, if she'd been nineteen, she'd have fangirled much harder, so there was at least that.

As it stood, she had made her way back to her booth right in time for their plates with two delicious burgers to be served and subjected them for a brief inspection. The patty seemed to be properly grilled, though she saw the sauce was unevenly spread and the lettuce was a tad old. The bun, on the other hand, seemed better quality again. As things went, this was passable pub grub quality.

However, Hermione still hadn't returned from the Ladies. This was odd. Hermione had left more than fifteen minutes ago. She usually didn't take this long in the Ladies. Worst thing yet, there was a middle-aged muggle woman now standing uncomfortably close near her booth while peeking into the darkened corridor with oddly fearful eyes. Under her arm was a box of light-bulbs, and she held one in her hand while talking to Rose.

"Rose," the woman spat. "I warned you about letting that light go out!"

"Cynthia," said Rose from the counter, her entire demeanour one of abject exasperation. "It's no big deal. I'll switch out the light-bulb later."

"Later? LATER?!" the woman hissed, though making no move to actually enter the hallway. "Don't you realize how dangerous this is? People get hurt in the dark!"

Bellatrix, now more than a little annoyed, shared a glance with Rose, who gave her an apologetic smile. Eager to get rid of this muggle loud-mouth, the curly-haired witch rose from her seat and strode towards the darkened hall. When passing her, Bellatrix snatched a light-bulb from the stricken woman's hands and entered the darkness.

"How many muggles does it take to switch out a light-bulb?" she muttered to herself and found the light near the end of the corridor. Two twists out and two twists in, and the light came on instantly.

Curious.

She was reasonably sure there wasn't supposed to be a deep hiss when a light came on. Perhaps it was an electrical thing of some other muggle banality? Almost immediately, the door to the Ladies opened and out came Hermione, rubbing her forehead.

"Hm, Belle," Hermione kept her eyes closed, as if the light was hurting her. "I think I might have dozed off."

"Dozed off? Who dozes off while taking a piss?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow.

"Guess I'm more tired from that drive than I thought," said Hermione with a groggy tone.

"Merlin!" exclaimed Bellatrix while running a hand through her hair. "You're cold as a stone!"

Hermione grumbled a little while Bellatrix led her back into the diner, where the muggle-woman she had snatched the light-bulb from gave her a stricken look. The woman backed away slowly at first, but then practically ran out of the diner. "Yeah," Bellatrix muttered under her breath. "Bugger you too, lady."

"Belle…" spoke Hermione in a slightly chastising tone. Immediately, Bellatrix sighed and let her mounting anger melt like snow in the sun. Some crazy light-bulb bitty wasn't worth blowing her top over in public.

"Sorry about that," said Rose after she came up to them. "That's Cynthia, sort of the town nutcase. Has a thing about dark places and she goes around replacing all the light-bulbs before they have a chance to go out. I guess she missed that one. Let me get you both some coffee to go with your orders. On the house."

Bellatrix gave her a nod, but couldn't help but notice the dull expression in Hermione's eyes. It was as if she had been drained of almost all the energy she had had in the time between leaving for the Ladies and coming back. Seriously, she hadn't been nearly this tired during the drive into Bright Falls. Bellatrix reached over to grab her hand and squeezed it slightly. Again, her skin was so cold.

"Hey," Bellatrix spoke softly, trying to lighten the mood. "You'll never guess who I met. I…"

Hermione turned her head just to see Bellatrix pointing towards and empty booth. Glancing around the room, two nurses were guiding Tor and Odin to a van waiting outside. "Well," shrugged Bellatrix. "I'll tell you later."

Thankfully, the deer burgers were surprisingly good and getting her belly full seemed to do wonders for Hermione. They took the key and resumed their drive after saying their goodbyes to Rose. Bird Leg Cabin was a few more miles out and the moment Bellatrix saw it, she found its location to be even more idyllic and magnificent than anything she had seen on the drive here.

Bird Leg Cabin was built upon a peninsula called Diver's Isle, surrounded on three sides by a lake as smooth as a mirror. Cauldron Lake, in fact, was a caldera lake formed in the caldera of a dormant volcano, almost unfathomably deep. The caldera itself was dotted with the same density of pine trees she had seen on the drive. More mesmerising was the water itself, green at the surface and black just under it. With the setting sun leaving a pleasing glare reflecting off the mirror-like surface, the location was pure perfection. Hermione seemed to agree, smiling at her while removing their suitcases from the boot.

The highest point of the caldera, called Mirror Peak, was supposedly home to a cafe with breath-taking views. The only other building she could see was a large log building near Mirror Peak. Curious. She would expected this caldera lake to be prime real-estate land.

Bird Leg Cabin itself was just as striking as the rest of the lake. From this angle, she could see how the cabin earned its name: two round windows resembling eyes set above a chimney base shaped like a beak while two awnings over decks on opposites sides of the cabin resembled wings.

The cabin, their home away from home, was a time-capsule from the Sixties. A lovely two story wooden house with a living room and a kitchen on the ground floor and a bedroom and study on the first. It was a lovely, wooden cabin with a lovely deck for sitting and viewing the lake, a big fireplace and a pier leading down to the waterfront. The living room itself contained the obligatory mounted deer head above said fireplace and two comfortable looking sofas near a kitchen table.

The kitchen also showed potential: Bellatrix had picked up the hobby of cooking. Ten years ago, she couldn't even cook an egg, but Bellatrix was someone who applied herself zealously and had picked up the art of cooking in record time. These days, she could give Gordon Ramsay a run for his money: Hermione's words, not hers. Every day, Hermione quite literally lived the gourmet lifestyle.

This would, indeed, be a lovely place to get away from everything, forget their troubles and simply enjoy each other's company. Until Hermione would remember that there was a bookstore in town, that is.

"I'm going to lose you to this kitchen, aren't I?" said Hermione as she set down her suitcase by the door.

Bellatrix crossed her arms. "And this is a complaint? Also, don't think I didn't see you staring at that bookcase."

Hermione started for a moment, but then sighed. "We know each other only too well," she said, holding a shoebox in her arms which she had picked up from a shelf. The shoebox contained a few books. "Thomas Zane. Apparently a celebrated, award winning poet, but damned if I ever heard of him."

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "A writer Hermione has never heard of? Say it isn't so!" she mocked.

Hermione made a face and stuck out her tongue. "Let's talk about your obsessions, then. What recipes have been fermenting in that devious mind of yours. hm?"

The dark witch stepped over to the oven, looking to be a rather modern muggle design. "First of all, I'm certain I can make a far superior deer burger than that diner could. I'd have to look into sourcing some local ingredients. Freshly hunted venison, quality bun and lettuce that isn't half a week old. Second, I would say that this oven is perfect for a roast."

"It's as if you want me to gain weight," Hermione said, taking a moment to rub her forehead again.

"Still feeling cold?" asked Bellatrix.

"Definitely," said Hermione. "I hope I'm not coming down with something. That'd ruin our week."

"Perhaps that means I could take care of you for a change, hm?" Bellatrix chuckled.

"Hm," Hermione smiled, eyes still closed. Bellatrix reached over to stroke her hair.

"My little brown-haired minx," chuckled Bellatrix. "I know just the thing to warm you up."

Hermione giggled briefly while Bellatrix already latched her lips to the nape her neck. "Belle!" struggled Hermione. "It's not even dark! We still have to unpack our suitcases!"

"Sod the suitcases!" managed Bellatrix between kisses. She got her answer when she felt Hermione's arms wrap around her and her hands gliding over her back.

"Warm me up then," replied Hermione in a husky tone.

All the more reason to get into a warm bed as quickly as possible. While neatly entangled, the two witches struggled their way up the stairs, all giggly and often tripping over their own feet. The bedroom awaited, as did a soft and inviting bed.

A wicked grin. A violent shove. And giggling Hermione found herself prone on the bed while being straddled by a wicked witch. "I love you so much," Hermione whispered.

Bellatrix smiled before crushing her lips on hers.

Indeed. Bellatrix was reasonably certain that she wasn't supposed to have sex with her case-worker either. Still, breaking the rules rarely felt as good as it did today.

It was fully dark in the cabin as the two witches lay in bed, the only illumination being the light of the moon reflecting off the surface of the lake outside. Bellatrix lay on her back with a sleepy Hermione curled up against her. This happened on many a night after making love, where Bellatrix would lie awake and think upon the paths her life had taken, while a sleeping Hermione lay at her side blissfully unaware of the thoughts and doubts in her head. With one hand, she gently ran her fingers through Hermione's brown hair.

Truth was, they'd been living like a married couple for years. Neither of them was really sure of the exact point their relationship had changed into something more… amorous… but she supposed that didn't matter.

The pattern was often the same: she'd stroke Hermione's hair while breaking her head pondering until deep into the night, sleep far too little and wake up far too early. Not exactly healthy, but not exactly unpleasant either. Outside, she glanced over the lake and the mountains beyond. Yet, all was the same, but the location was different. Maybe that's why it had been so easy to move to another country.

One thing was distinctly different, though.

Merlin, how could Hermione still be so cold?


It was pitch dark when Bellatrix stirred from her slumber, finding herself sprawled on the bed. She stretched and yawned. After the initial confusion, she peered out of the window. There was a new moon out, the darkest possible of nights. From the bed, she could see the water outside with almost none of the little moonlight actually reflecting off the lake. For a moment, it struck her as being a black mirror, as it seemed to swallow the light of the moon whole. It was mesmerising in a way. Hauntingly beautiful.

"Hm, pet?" Bellatrix asked with a tired voice.

No answer.

Hermione's side of the bed was empty. And it was easy to deduce that Hermione had gone downstairs when she heard some noise coming from kitchen.

"Hermione?" Bellatrix called out from the bed, through the open door of their bedroom. "Pet? Could you bring up a drink of water for me, please?"

No answer.

"Hermione?"

Again. No answer.

"Pet?" Bellatrix frowned. This time, however, there was another sound. That of a door opening downstairs.

A groggy Bellatrix reached for a bathrobe and decided to investigate. Could there be an intruder? This place was remote, after all, and someone might decide to take advantage of two women alone in a cabin.

Well, they were certain to regret their mistake when faced with two powerful and angry witches. Bellatrix carefully went down the stairs and was surprised to find both the cabin empty and the front door wide open. Warily Bellatrix stepped towards the door and was met with the darkest of night, with only little illumination coming from the cabin's porch lights. Hermione was outside, but something was most definitely off.

Hermione moved as if she was a marionette with tangled strings. Her girlfriend was moving her limbs, stomping about as if she had somehow forgotten how to move properly and was figuring it out as she went along. Her head rolled on her shoulders as if she was still asleep, but her eyes were spread wide open. There was a trance-like expression as if she was someone who had been brought under the full power of the imperius curse. Just as Bellatrix stepped off the porch, Hermione disappeared down the wooden stairs leading onto the pier below.

Naturally, Bellatrix was quick to follow. She rushed down the wooden stairs and found Hermione stood at the very edge of the pier, her body swaying while her limbs were still held at almost unnatural angles, as if the unseen puppeteer had simply given up.

"Pet?" Bellatrix asked, approaching her swiftly.

Finally, Hermione snapped out of her trance, life returning to her dull eyes. "What? Belle?" she muttered. "H-how did I get…"

Hermione didn't even have time to scream as an invisible force grabbed her around the waist and yanked her off the pier and into the water.

"PET!" Bellatrix yelled out and, without a second thought, dove into the lake right after her. When she opened her eyes, she saw Hermione already far below her, being dragged down into the darkness with an unnatural speed.

Bellatrix didn't hesitate as panic for Hermione threatened to overcome her. First a bubble-head charm, second, she transfigured her lower half into that of a mermaid and picked up the pace, swimming down faster than any human swimmer could.

And yet she was not gaining on Hermione at all. If anything, she was sinking down into the darkness of the lake even faster than before.

'She'll drown, she'll drown, she'll drown!'

Bellatrix moved as fast as her transfigured body could, and pushed herself even further. Her eardrums started to hurt something fierce from the sheer pressure of the water as she dove further and further and further down into the depths, but she ignored it. Hermione needed her. What was a little pain if her love's life was at stake?

There was no light at all anymore, she was staring down into the deepest of dark and could only watch as Hermione disappeared within. The darkness. It seemed alive. Nightmares shifting endlessly in the darkness of the lake below her. It awaited her, as if it was an eager maw awaiting prey. Tendrils, real or imagined, licked against her skin as ever the more panicking Bellatrix dove down unrelentingly.

'I won't lose you!'

Deeper and deeper she went.

'I won't let you go!'

The Darkness engulfed her ever more, welcoming her home.

'I'd do anything for you!'

Bellatrix closed her eyes. And was blinded by light…


"My, my, my, little mudpup. Come here to gloat? I didn't think you'd have it in you," Bellatrix smirked, a wry cackle rattling through her throat. She tried to throw up her hands, but was starkly reminded that she had been chained to the desk and chair with magic dampeners. Still, as holding facilities were, it was still tons better than Azkaban, even if she would likely never see the outside of its walls ever again.

Near the door, yet to sit down, was the mudpup Hermione Granger. The Granger girl was obviously wearing her Sunday best. No doubt seeing her tormentor in chains was a momentous occasion to her. Well, let her gloat. The winner takes it all. The mudlovers will have their chance in the sun while she and her ilk would rot away in captivity. But that didn't mean Bellatrix would roll over and take it without getting word in.

"I'm not here to gloat," replied the mudpup. The girl seemed hesitant, looking as if she wanted to stride to the table and sit down opposite to her, but at the same time not being able to gather the courage to do so. Honestly, she hid it well, but not well enough.

"Well then," Bellatrix smirked. "Why else are you here at this fine establishment? I'm afraid I can't quite recommend the accommodations, though the food is quite nice compared to other places I have had prolonged stays at."

This Swedish wizarding holding facility was, actually, far better than Azkaban in many ways. No dementors, proper food, a library, hell even the pottery classes were stimulating enough to get her through a dreary day. With Azkaban permanently out of commission, captured Death Eaters had been placed in wizarding prisons all over Europe. Bellatrix had been in this Swedish prison for over two years and, in a way, it suited her fine. No demands were made of her, prisoners and staff left her alone as long as she didn't make a fuss and she had a surprisingly spacious cell with a window facing east.

The place was a fucking luxury hotel compared to Azkaban. With muddies running wild outside, the world would be going to shit anyway. In a way, this was the best place she could be.

The mudpup finally worked up the courage to take the seat at the table, leading to Bellatrix staring at her intensely. "Well?" she demanded. "OUT WITH IT! I haven't got all day. Cooking seminar starts in fifteen minutes and I am loathe to miss it."

The mudpup looked her in the eye. "I'm sure you've heard about the Rehabilitation Program."

Ah, yes. That. Some soft-hearts at the Ministry were seemingly convinced that Death Eaters could be shown the light, reform and become productive members of society. Rot like that. The program was nothing more than an extended leash for the rest of their lives. As if she'd even want to be part of this 'brave new world' the muddies and the mudlovers were creating. Thousands of years worth of tradition tossed into the wind with a snap of the fingers. It was beyond infuriating.

Narrowing her eyes was the only answer Bellatrix gave.

"I am part of said Program," said the mudpup. "Every Death Eater in the Program is assigned a case-worker, a handler and therapist of sort, a confidante, even. Someone who will walk with you as you take the steps the Program requires and coach you were needed. I've been training for this job for the past two years, ever since the end of the war."

Bellatrix cackled briefly. "Really?" she replied. "Who'd you piss off to get stuck with me, then?"

The mudpup seemed more confident now. "I… requested you. To be your case-worker."

An incredulous Bellatrix stared with mouth agape for a moment, before she suddenly slammed her hands on the table, rattling the chains binding her. "Is this some sort of joke?!" Bellatrix spat angrily. "You won, I lost! That's it! Have the common decency to enjoy your victory! Gloat! SPIT ON ME! But don't expect me to change who I am!"

The mudpup steeled herself. "Do you want to spend the rest of your life in here? Don't want something better for yourself? Don't you want to reconnect with your family? Don't you want to be allowed to practice magic again? You can do all those things if you join the Program. And more," she spoke. "All you have to do to start is to say yes. I am committed if you are."

Bellatrix sat back, glaring at the mudpup before chuckling. "My, my, my, my, how long have you rehearsed that particular little speech in front of the mirror?"

A slight smile curled the mudpup's lips. "Entirely too long."

"You want to turn me into your pet? Make me do little dances, get all weepy in front of the radio, beg forgiveness and cry on demand? Shit like that?" Bellatrix snarled. The mudpup was about to retort but Bellatrix cut her off swiftly, leaning forward and adopting a cruel smile. "I enjoyed hurting you, little girl. I loved feeling you squirm underneath me. I savoured your cries of pain. I laughed at your pathetic cries for help. You are nothing to me. You are less than offal. My only regret, little girl, is that I wasn't able to finish the job and feed your lifeless corpse to Fenrir Greyback. Do you understand me? That, is my answer to you. Now fuck off and don't come back!"

To her credit, the mudpup didn't flinch even once, though she visibly paled for a second. The mudpup was silent for a while, looking down at her hands before looking up at her again. "You're right," she whispered. "I hated you. There were nights where I lied awake staring at the ceiling, wishing you dead even though I hated myself for thinking those thoughts. Yes, you're right. I would have loved to have gloated over your bound and chained body. Hell, if you'd been sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss, I would have booked a bloody front-row seat!"

Bellatrix threw her head back and let out a roaring cackle. "Finally, some honesty out of you, my little mudpup! I'm proud of you. And I mean that."

The mudpup kept the intensity in her gaze, but her expression softened. "I'm not that person anymore. I needed time to heal. And when I had enough objectivity, I did look into your personal history. Bellatrix, you have been done dirty all your life. Forced into a loveless marriage, bound by expectations, exploited by an uncaring Dark Lord and thrown into Azkaban for fourteen years after a Ministry show-trial. You are clever and talented, that much is clear, and there's so many years of your life still ahead of you. Do you really want to spend that time in here? Trapped between four walls and unable to practice magic? Are you really that defeated?"

Bellatrix gave the mudpup an incredulous look for a moment, trying to think of a clever retort before letting out a sigh instead. "Well then, mudpup. You have me there," Bellatrix spoke softly. "Tell me, mudpup…"

"Yes?"

"Obviously I have been living rent-free in your head the past years, but, honestly, I don't even know your name," Bellatrix chuckled.

"It's Hermione… Hermione Granger," replied the mudpup.

"Well, Hermione Granger, I…. Wait…" Bellatrix felt a crawling sensation in the back of her head. Something… something wasn't right. It felt as if she was in a lucid dream, at the edge of waking up. It was as if she wasn't herself anymore, but an outside observer looking in. As if she was watching one of those cooking shows on the muggle television she enjoyed so much. Gordon Ramsay aside, she became quite aware that what she was seeing wasn't real. "… this is wrong."

"What is wrong?" asked Hermione.

"This… this has all happened before!" Bellatrix pressed. "What is this!? Who are you?!"

The Thing That Was Hermione remained expressionless until she blinked once and revealed the deepest of pitch-black eyes. Black of such a level that they seemed to be a void, an absences. Black pools… no, Black lakes, stared back at her. "You will learn," spoke The Thing That Was Hermione with a monotone pitch.

Bellatrix was frozen in place when The Thing That Was Hermione started to absorb every shred of light from this illusion of a prison, leaving the both of them bathed in living darkness. Bellatrix could see, hear and feel nothing for what seemed to be an eternity. Is this madness? Had the last ten years even been real? Was she even still alive? She opened her mouth to scream and no sound came forth. Nothing. Surrounded by nothing. Consumed by nothing.

Bellatrix closed her eyes, hoping for this ordeal to be over. And found herself sat behind the wheel of their car. It was still the dead of night, and Bellatrix was both fully clothed and completely dry. The maddeningly painful pressure on her ears was completely gone and she was on the road.

In a moving car.

Bellatrix didn't know how to drive.

She was also reasonably certain she couldn't learn how to drive in time to avoid the ditch at the side of the road the car was barrelling towards at full speed.