Chapter Ten
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Lestrange Manor was not as large as Malfoy Manor, in Hermione's memory. But there was a certain kind of regal grandeur in the weighty stone walls, and it came close.
When the appointed day had arrived, Hermione had eschewed the offer of a portkey and had instead walked to Hogsmeade. Apparating from outside the Three Broomsticks had given her the chance to approach the Manor from outside, appearing on the gravel driveway in front of wrought iron gate and high walls. Now; Hermione waited outside as enormous wooden doors swung open.
"Good day. Is you new Missy Black?"
A slender, wrinkled house elf was standing on the doorstep, tilting its narrow head up at Hermione.
"I am."
"You is expected. Follow Gilly please. Does you have any luggage?"
"Only in my bag." Hermione gestured to her small beaded handbag.
"Very well. This way Missy Black."
Hermione stepped into the large hallway as the doors swung closed with an ominous noise behind her. Portraits lining the walls murmured as she followed the house elf, her heels clacking on the polished wooden floor.
Oh, how Hermione hated the necessary evil of heels.
The house elf led her through a few doorways, before pausing in front of one and rapping on the doorframe with spindly knuckles.
"Master and young masters. Missy Black has arrived."
Hermione stepped into the room warily, all senses on full alert. She schooled her face into a pleasant smile.
"Lord Lestrange. It is an honour to meet you."
The man sitting behind a polished wooden desk looked older than she had expected from Rabastan's father. His hair contained a great deal of grey, and there were heavy bags under his eyes. But there was still sharpness in his face, and he sat tall, before rising to greet her.
"Miss Black. A pleasure to have you here."
Deus Lestrange took Hermione's hand formally, and brought it to his dry lips. His dark eyes stayed on her face, and she met his gaze steadily until he released her.
"Yes indeed. Welcome to our home Hermione."
The familiar voice made Hermione smile. There was a small hearth fire on the other side of the large study, and Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange were sitting in high backed leather armchairs, facing one another. Rabastan got to his feet swiftly and kissed her cheek.
"Thank you," Hermione said, nodding also at Rodolphus. "I was honoured to be invited."
Rabastan's eyes sparkled at the courtesies that Hermione eschewed so frequently at Hogwarts. She could already sense the teasing this would result in.
Deus Lestrange cleared his throat, and Hermione turned back to him.
"You are very welcome here, and during your stay I believe Rabastan will show you the delights of our grounds. We are also expecting a few of your Hogwarts companions, so you should not lack for entertainment. Later this week we expect a distinguished visitor, who is highly anticipating meeting you all."
Hermione nodded. "I am sure my visit will be most enjoyable, and I am grateful for your hospitality."
She fought the urge to curtsey.
Deus Lestrange turned back to his desk, an obvious dismissal. Rabastan quickly headed for the door, and held it for Hermione.
"Let me show you the grounds, Miss Black."
"Why Mr Lestrange I should be delighted."
\\/
"That was fast," Hermione commented once she felt away from the eavesdropping portraits out in the garden.
"Father hates courtesies and small talk," Rabastan shrugged. "He just wanted to get it over and done with."
Hermione hummed, bending to touch some late daffodils peeping through the grass.
"Your brother was very quiet too."
"Youre not offended are you?" Rabastan grinned, tweaking Hermione's nose as she slapped at him. "Roddy hates people almost as much as Dad. Probably why he married Bella Black."
"Because she has a tendency to kill them before they can talk?"
It took a moment to realise that Rabastan was no longer walking beside her. Hermione turned, frowning, and found him several steps behind. His face was white.
"Hermione," he said hoarsely. "You can't just say stuff like that. What if someone heard?"
"I'd know," Hermione said with absolute certainty, and a trace of amusement.
"Please," Rabastan begged, catching up again. "Please promise me you won't say anything like that in front of the Dark Lord."
Hermione resumed humming, as she bent to examine some beautiful golden rose bushes. Rabastan whimpered.
\\/
Severus Snape arrived just before dinner, and Hermione was surprised by the wave of pleasure she felt when she saw him. He smiled warmly at her when he was presented to the family, and made an excuse to speak to her as soon as possible.
"Good to see you Black."
"And you Snape. Is anyone else coming?"
"Your cousin Regulus Black, I believe."
"And Barty Crouch Junior," Rabastan added, clapping Snape on the shoulder as he caught up. "Come on, I'll show you your rooms so you can get ready for dinner."
"Not Arabel or Alecto?" Hermione asked as they climbed a high staircase.
"No." Rabastan hesitated, and then leaned in closer. "They're still under...observation."
Hermione absorbed this as they walked, considering the implications. Snape was similarly silent until they reached the guest wing.
"This is yours Hermione," Rabastan said gesturing at a door. "I'll send the elf to get you for dinner."
"See you soon."
The room was spacious and tastefully decorated in pale blue. Hermione performed a sweep with her wand, and detected several listening spells almost immediately. She didn't remove them, as that would alert the caster. It was probably standard guest room procedure in the Lestrange home.
After checking for any further bugs (there were several) and removing a charm from the bed that would send the sleeper into an almost coma-like state for the duration of the night (she shuddered to think what that one was about) Hermione unpacked her robes and dresses, and hung them in the large oak wardrobe.
It almost certainly had a false back, but she didn't have time to unpick the complex charms that moment.
Finally Hermione turned to the ensuite bathroom. The only charms present were those intended to beautify the user – and a slightly amusing charm on the mirror which would subtly suggest to the viewer that they looked better in green.
Hermione rolled her eyes. Slytherins, honestly.
She placed her personal toiletries by the sink, and turned to get ready when there was a pop.
"Missy Black, dinner will be served in ten minutes please. Miss should begin to dress now."
Hermione nodded at the house elf. "Thank you Gilly."
Twisting its ears in alarm at the thanks, the elf vanished immediately. Hermione sighed.
Reluctantly she returned to the wardrobe and pulled out the first dress that came to hand, and began the horribly laborious process of climbing into it and fastening all the buttons that the witches of this era seemed obsessed with. It was only when she visited the bathroom to double check that it wasn't completely hideous, that she realised it was green.
"What a lovely colour, my dear," the mirror said warmly.
Only a knock on the door saved Hermione from seven years of bad luck.
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Dinner with the Lestranges was a five course affair that took place in an enormous dining room with a mahogany table that stretched from one end to the other. Although there were only eight people dining, there had been clearly no question of using a more modest room.
Hermione paused in doorway, scanning the guests present at the table quickly. But within moments Rabastan saw her, and quickly rose to his feet.
"Hermione," he said warmly. "You look beautiful. Come and sit down."
Hermione would have rolled her eyes anywhere else, but the cold eyes of Deus Lestrange were fixed upon her and she didn't dare risk it.
"Why thank you Rabastan," she said as sincerely as she could. The little smirk that appeared on his face immediately proved she hadn't been successfull.
Hermione was seated between Snape and Rabastan, with Regulus Black sitting directly opposite her, but there were two seats still waiting to be filled.
"Roddy is picking up Bellatrix," Rabastan murmured, when he saw where she was looking.
"How lovely."
Snape gave a slight snort which he immediately covered with a cough. Hermione glanced at him with amusement, noticing that it was really surprising how handsome he looked with his nose finally healed. Without that single dominating feature, his remarkable dark eyes took centre stage, and his charcoal grey dress robes complimented his colouring.
The door banged, and Hermione looked up to see their final guests had arrived. Unconsciously she grasped her scarred forearm under the table, grateful for the long lace sleeves on the green dress.
"Ah, Bella!"
Deus stood from the table, looking more animated than Hermione had seen before, and leaned forward to embrace his young daughter-in-law with a genuine smile. Bellatrix Lestrange submitted with good grace, before turning to her seat near the head of the table.
"Apologies for the delay," Rodolphus said smoothly.
"It was unavoidable," Bellatrix interrupted coldly, without elaborating.
Hermione shivered, almost unable to tear her eyes away from the one witch who could truly strike fear into her heart. Bellatrix as a young woman was more beautiful than her wild, older self had suggested. She was wearing expensive corseted robes that resembled several in Hermione's closet, and so many diamonds that she shimmered under the light.
"I don't believe we have met," she managed to say calmly.
Regulus nodded, leaning forwards. "Aunt Bella, this is Hermione Black. A distant cousin of the family who recently transferred to Hogwarts. Hermione, Aunt Bella was a Black before her marriage."
"Another Black," Bellatrix said softly, leaning forward to look Hermione right in the eye. Hermione held still under the searching gaze which took in everything from her hair to her dress. Then Bellatrix sat back, and the moment was broken.
"Well I can't deny that the family could do with more women with such a good bloodline. Tell me, which branch of the family are you from?"
The relief was so great Hermione almost sighed, but caught herself just in time. Somehow, with the help of her occlumency shields and expensive clothes she had passed.
"It's like this..."
Hermione began to explain. As she spun out the whole story of her invented history Bellatrix nodded, and listened closely. The rest of the table slowly began to fall into conversation, and by the time the first course of the meal arrived, Hermione was breathing normally again.
Later that night after the guests had departed and all had retired for the night, Hermione finally found herself alone in her room again. She said a quick spell to undo her buttons and let the restricting green dress fall to the floor. The evening had been unusually enjoyable, once she was certain that no suspicions were levelled at her. Sitting between Rabastan and Snape had been just like a Hogwarts meal, but with better food.
However, no matter how much Hermione had enjoyed herself she couldn't let herself forget what she was here for.
No murder on your first visit, she told herself reluctantly as she climbed into bed. After all, the Dark Lord was coming.
\\/
The next morning Hermione smashed the bathroom mirror into a thousand pieces, and then charmed her robes crimson. She blamed the little episode on stress.
It wasn't really her fault. She had been up early, using her fingers to comb through unruly strands of wet hair in front of the mirror when she realised she was wearing deep, forest green silk robes. She lost her temper.
"I have enough fucking enchantments in my life as it is," Hermione had muttered mutinously as shattered glass cascaded around her. Plucking a stray splinter of glass out of the pad of her thumb, she sucked on the drop of blood that appeared and then altered her robes to the same colour.
"You... look...lovely..."
The largest shard of mirror on the floor was still croaking compliments like a broken record, and Hermione laughed suddenly, aware of how ridiculous she would have looked to an outsider.
"Did you know that breaking a mirror is bad luck, but if you wear a piece of it, then the luck becomes good?"
The mirror didn't reply, but Hermione bent down and plucked up a smaller shard, aiming her wand at it. For a moment the glass shimmered, and then suddenly morphed into a silvery glass ball the size of a pea.
"Hmm. Not quite."
It took another moment to transfigure the silver plug from the bath into an elegant chain and setting, before Hermione used magic to fix the small glass bead in the middle.
"You're not quite diamonds, but you'll do. And I need all the luck I can get," she told her new necklace, and slipped it around her neck.
Without a second glance at the ruined bathroom, she left for breakfast. Whereupon Rabastan immediately asked:
"Is that glass in your hair?"
"I look better in red," Hermione replied obtusely, and said no more on the matter.
\\/
The days passed quickly, but the flurry of preparation as Lord Voldemort's visit grew ever closer was impossible to miss. Gilly the house elf was almost frantic as she scrubbed down every inch of the Manor, and even the portraits found themselves being soaped up and dusted.
All this Hermione observed as she strolled through the Manor every day, often in the company of either Rabastan, Regulus or Snape. Barty Crouch Junior kept his distance, which suited Hermione just fine. They had never particularly liked each other.
On the morning of the day that Voldemort was due to arrive however, all five Hogwarts students escaped the increasingly pressured confines of the Manor to wander in the warm gardens. It was a beautiful day, and the extensive beds of roses were almost vibrating with bees and butterflies.
When the five of them were so far away from the Manor that it would be impossible for anyone to see them, Rabastan gestured that they should sit on two benches, placed artfully beneath a cascade of tiny pink blossoms.
"Butterbeer?"
Hermione accepted the bottle from a small basket, and took a measured sip with pleasure. Rabastan stowed the basket, and then stood in front of the group.
"So, you all know why you're here."
Taken by surprise at the abrupt delivery, Hermione looked up at Rabastan.
"To meet the Dark Lord," she volunteered. "So he can get a good look at us and decide if we measure up to join his forces."
Rabastan paused, and his fists clenched for a moment.
"As Hermione so elequently put, we have an honoured visitor arriving today. Our Lord is joining us for the meal, and he will be observing closely."
"You've met him before haven't you Rabbie?" Crouch interrupted.
"I have. And so has Severus."
"What's he like?"
The last question was asked breathlessly, and Hermione was reminded sharply of the older version of Barty Crouch; the man who had been willing to do absolutely anything to serve his master.
Rabastan hesitated.
"He is...Quite something. The most important thing to remember is not to try and hide anything from him, and please for the love of Merlin don't even think about answering back, or wearing red fucking robes."
The last comment broke the tension, and all of them burst out laughing.
"You hear that Black," Snape teased, nudging Hermione in the ribs. "Black, grey or green only."
Hermione sniffed haughtily, and didn't deign to reply.
"Anyway," Rabastan said after a moment. "Just...Don't try and hide anything from him, and you should be alright. Treat him like you would if the Minister of Magic was here."
"I'll treat him a damn sight better than I would that incompetent ninny," Snape scowled.
"Bagnold is a nightmare," Regulus agreed. "Completely threw out Aunt Cassie's appeal to re-instate muggle hunting. I mean, it's not even like she wanted to go after mudbloods or half-bloods!"
"Anyway," Hermione said loudly. "Muggle hunting aside, is there anything else we need to know?"
Rabastan shrugged. "For everyone else? Not really. You? I'm terrified."
Hermione burst out laughing so hard she almost inhaled butterbeer - until she realised nobody else was.
"Terrified? Really?"
Snape shook his head. "You have no idea how controversial you are, do you Black?"
Hermione tilted her head, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Severus Snape I do declare I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."
Snape groaned, and even Regulus shook his head.
"Hermione," Rabastan explained patiently. "You appeared out of nowhere, you are both terrifyingly and insanely powerful, you're pureblood, influential and spend time with us. But worst of all, you're in Slytherin yet you fight and shoot your mouth off like a bloody Gryffindor. Which can only lead any decent Slytherin to the conclusion that you're after something entirely different."
"The Dark Lord," Snape continued. "Is either going to really love you, or really, really hate you."
Hermione grinned, and clapped her hands slowly together three times.
"Took you long enough," she said brightly. "So now, how about a bit of trust?"
"Trust?"
"Indeed. You all need to trust that I can handle myself around the Dark Lord, the same way I can everywhere."
The silence hung for several long, awkward moments before Snape broke it.
"We can hardly do anything except trust you, when you could hex our bollocks off with one spell."
Rabastan, Regulus and even Barty Crouch mumbled in reluctant agreement.
"Wonderful," Hermione beamed. "I propose a toast. To trust!"
"And intact bollocks," Snape interjected.
All four young men raised their bottles of butterbeer, and Hermione joined them.
"To trust, and intact bollocks!"
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Thanks for reading
Cas
