Alone in the deserted Dark Arts classroom, Hermione hurled spell after spell at the training dummy which always stood in the corner of Bellatrix's classroom. Hermione was giving no thought to the spells she was using, she was just venting her frustration on the dummy. Her frustration was caused by the fact that twenty four hours had now passed since the incident in Hogsmeade and no-one had any idea who had caused Draco's accident.
Severus and the staff had been questioning everyone in the school since the incident happened, and while everyone who had been down in Hogsmeade admitted they'd seen the gang, not one of them was admitting either being part of it or recognising anyone that was. Hermione wasn't too surprised that no-one was owning up to being part of the rowdy gang, but she was surprised that not one student could identify someone who had been part of the group. She may not have recognised any of the group, and they had been wearing hats and scarves making it harder to identify, but she couldn't believe not one person could say they knew or even suspected who any of the group could be.
Hermione could only conclude that certain elements of the students were hiding their true knowledge of the incident. At worst they were blatantly lying about their involvement, or covering for people they knew, and at the least they were keeping their suspicions to themselves. Either way, it was leading Hermione to suspect that people weren't as accepting of her father and his regime as they'd appeared to be. She'd taken the return of almost all the students as a positive sign, but clearly there were still people in the school who resented what was happening. And that was a worry as people like those could be perfect targets for The Order who, judging by Harry and Ron's recent visit to see Dean and Seamus, were clearly needing some new recruits.
With a cry of frustration, Hermione let forth a flurry of spells at the dummy and only stopped when the torso exploded, showering her and the corner they were in with white fluff.
"And that was my favourite dummy," a voice behind Hermione remarked.
Whirling around, Hermione came face to face with Bellatrix, who was sitting on one of the desks watching her. Hermione had no idea how long she'd been there, but she certainly seemed settled enough.
"How long have you been watching me?" she asked.
"Long enough to know that your defences were down," Bellatrix replied with a shrug. "You were so focused on maiming my dummy, you had no idea I was here."
"I didn't mean to maim your dummy," Hermione muttered. "I can pay for a new one."
"No need, it can be fixed." With a wave of her wand, Bellatrix resorted the dummy to its previous state, removing the fluff shower as she did so. "So, do you want to explain why you're so angry?"
"Why do you think?" Hermione spat, perching on a desk opposite Bellatrix.
"Draco," Bellatrix predicted. "It was an accident, Hermione. Besides, he's okay."
"He was still injured when he shouldn't have been," Hermione argued. "But it's not just that," she conceded with a sigh when Bellatrix fixed her with a stern stare. "Yes, I'm mad about what happened, but I'm more mad about what's happened since. Or rather what hasn't happened. No-one in this school will admit to knowing who was in that gang of idiots, and I can't believe someone doesn't know something. Even if it was just one person saying they thought it could have been such and such."
"Maybe they're keeping quiet out of fear," Bellatrix suggested. "Maybe they're scared of what you will do to whoever is responsible."
"So what are you saying, I should make it clear that I would forgive anyone involved in what happened if they owned up?" Hermione scoffed.
"If it will help you put aside your anger, then yes, do it," Bellatrix replied. "Being this angry is not helping anyone, Hermione. Not Draco, and certainly not your father."
"Why not father?" Hermione asked with a frown. "How does this affect him?"
"After everything he's done to gain power without violence, do you really think it will look good if you blow your top over a simple accident?" Bellatrix countered. "A show of violence on your part could see people start to take a stand against your father and his regime."
"Are you sure you're the Bellatrix Lestrange I've heard about?" Hermione questioned with a snort. "The Bellatrix I was told was one of the best Death Eaters my father had, was so incensed by his fall that she lashed out at The Order and did a lot of damage before being caught."
"That Bellatrix also spent over a decade in Azkaban," Bellatrix countered. "I was young, and I was rash. I don't regret the support I showed your father, but I do regret that I wasn't more restrained about it. I would like to think I've learnt from my past mistakes, just like your father has learnt from his."
"You mean taking power by deception not force," Hermione remarked.
"Yes, your father tried using force the first time he bid for power, and he found it led to people fighting him. But this time he's been more subtle about it. People who are going to fight, still will, but most people will think twice about raising arms against him."
"But will that strategy work in the long term?" Hermione asked with a sigh. "Right now he seems to be charming people, but if The Order keep chipping away, how long will it be before people realise that despite his veneer he's still a dark and dangerous wizard?"
"Don't kid yourself, Hermione, people already know that," Bellatrix chuckled. "Yes, your father is one of the most charismatic men I've ever met and he is well capable of charming the birds from the trees. However, he has not gotten where he is today with charm alone. He can't wipe out the past, and even without proof, people know what he is capable of."
"Then why aren't more people fighting?" Hermione countered. "Why don't The Order have more support if people can see how dark my father truly is?"
"Do you not realise the work your father has done behind the scenes to ensure certain people support him?" Bellatrix asked in amusement. "He'll have used threats and blackmail on some people. Some people will have been hurt, or possibly even placed under spells to gain their compliance. Why do you think the Death Eaters are not getting antsy with the lack of fighting? I'll tell you, it's because most of them are employed keeping people in line. Without those tactics, there would have been more opposition and certainly another full war. But this way he gets what he wants with the minimum of fuss. This way he gets what he wants without endangering your or your mother."
"And I shouldn't endanger that by being reckless, is that what you're saying?" Hermione asked, giving Bellatrix a small smile, impressed by the older woman's logical argument.
"It's exactly what I am saying," Bellatrix confirmed with a nod. "I'm not saying those little gits who hurt my nephew shouldn't be punished, but you don't have to be too rough on them. Sometimes subtle is the way to go."
"We need to identify them first," Hermione muttered with a sigh.
"It'll happen," Bellatrix replied confidently. "But for now, let's focus on Draco. I hear he's back from the hospital."
"He came back this morning," Hermione replied. "He's on bed rest for a week. The break was more severe than they thought and it'll take a little while to heal properly."
"I should go and pay him a visit," Bellatrix said as she hopped off the desk and smoothed down her clingy black dress.
"I'll come with you," Hermione offered. "He had a long line of people wanting to see him, so I left to give him some space."
"I can just imagine him now, lying in his bed, revelling in all the attention," Bellatrix laughed.
Hermione laughed alongside Draco's aunt, knowing that she'd described the scene perfectly. When she'd left him a couple of hours ago, he was propped up in bed, receiving visitors like a king being worshipped by his subjects.
When they arrived in the Slytherin dungeons, Hermione explained that the old heads room had been converted for Draco as he wasn't yet able to take the stairs up to the boys dorm. The old heads room was located on the ground floor, but hadn't been used in some time since it had been years since Slytherin had housed either the Head Boy or the Head Girl. Entering Draco's room, they found the crowds of well wishers had dispersed and it was only Blaise sitting beside Draco's bed, chatting to his best friend.
"Professor Lestrange," Blaise greeted with a wide smile as he jumped from his seat. "How lovely to see you. You're looking very nice today."
"Thank you Blaise, you don't look so bad yourself," Bellatrix returned, shooting the young wizard a flirtatious wink.
Hermione had to laugh as Blaise preened at Bellatrix's remark, while lying in bed, Draco rolled his eyes at his best friend. Anyone could see that his aunt was just messing with Blaise, but no doubt Blaise would take the comment seriously and would use it to convince himself he had a genuine chance with the older witch.
"It's good of you to come and visit, Aunt Bella," Draco said, drawing the attention back towards him as he was the injured party.
"Of course I was going to come and see my favourite nephew," Bellatrix replied with a chuckle as she sank down in the chair Blaise had vacated.
"I'm your only nephew," Draco pointed out.
"Semantics," Bellatrix retorted with an airy wave of her hand as she glanced around the room her nephew had taken over. "This place hasn't changed at all. So many memories."
"You mean the dungeons, or this room?" Draco asked as Hermione perched on the bed beside him while Blaise hovered behind Bellatrix.
"This room," Bellatrix answered with a slow smile. "I lost my virginity in this very room. In fact, it might even have been in that bed you're in, Draco."
Draco gazed at his aunt in horror, shuddering at the images she was implanting in his head. Blaise however was looking at Bellatrix in awe, and judging by the glazed look that was starting to spread over his face, Hermione suspected his mind was also filling with images of a young Bella, only unlike Draco, the images weren't disturbing to him.
"You were the Head Girl?" Hermione asked.
"Merlin no, I was far too much trouble for that," Bellatrix laughed. "When I was in sixth year the Head Boy was a Slytherin."
"And he seduced you?" Blaise asked in a thick voice.
"Oh no, I seduced him," Bellatrix replied in a silky voice as she shot Blaise a mischievous smirk. "I'd always liked him, and the power of him being Head Boy only added to his allure. So one evening I came in here and waited for him to return."
"How is that a seduction?" Draco questioned with a frown.
"I was in his bed," Bellatrix answered slowly. "Naked."
"Sweet Merlin," Blaise groaned.
"Well that is enough of my colourful past," Bellatrix laughed as she rose to her feet. "I'll leave you to get some rest, Draco." Moving over to her nephew, she gave him a peck on the cheek and as she straightened back up, something resting against the bedside cabinet caught her eye. "Is Lucius here?" she asked, nodding towards the distinctive snake headed cane which had captured her attention.
"No, it's his old cane," Draco explained. "The break in my leg was pretty bad, so even when I'm back on my feet again, I have to be careful and can't put too much weight on my leg. The healer suggested I use a cane for a while, so father dug his old one out. Apparently this was the first cane he ever had."
"I remember it," Bellatrix said with a fond smile. "Your father was hurt during a battle not long after marrying Narcissa. His ankle was in pretty bad shape and he had to use the cane to aid his walking for a few months. He fell in love with the cane so when he was better, he had a new one made where he could store his wand, and he's used it ever since."
"Father has always said the cane is a handy weapon," Draco remarked. "I always thought that was why he had it, not because he'd once needed it."
"I think that is why he chose to keep it," Bellatrix chuckled. "I've seen your father use his cane as a weapon many times. But originally, it was a necessity."
"Hmm, I wonder if I should keep it as well," Draco mused, his gaze falling to the cane his father had loaned him. "I could get one made for my wand."
"And best of all you can poke people you don't like," Blaise joked. "Ooh, that sounds like fun, maybe I need a cane."
"Neither of you need a cane," Hermione interrupted. "Well Draco will when he's up and about, but only until he's better. The cane is Lucius's trademark, and its just tacky to copy it. The pair of you need to be original and be yourselves, not carbon copies of Lucius."
"Well said Hermione," Bellatrix said with a smile. "I've got to be going now. Just you remember what we talked about, Hermione. Sometimes subtlety is the way to go."
"I'll remember, thank you, Bella," Hermione replied as the older woman left Draco's room, with Blaise swooping out with her offering to show her way out of the dungeons despite the fact she knew exactly where she was going.
"What was that about?" Draco asked, pulling Hermione fully into his arms once they were alone.
"Your aunt found me attacking her dummy," Hermione admitted. "I was rather angry, and she calmed me down. She made me realise that lashing out at whoever hurt you wasn't in our best interests. We don't want to give people anything to fight against."
"And we won't," Draco said. "Severus will get to the bottom of who did this, and when he finds them, they will be punished. We don't need to go all psycho on them. After all, it was just an accident."
"I know," Hermione whispered, feeling a lot calmer than she had done a few hours earlier.
As much as she still wanted to enact her vengeance for Draco's injury, she knew it would have to be done subtly. There was no point losing her temper and hitting out over what was at the end of the day an accident. It wasn't worth risking everything had father had been working for, and the last thing she wanted to do was jeopardise how things stood and start a full out war.