Warning for every chapter: Slavery. Dubious consent. Violence. Mentions of rape. Death. Assault. General gore warnings. Please read responsibly.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters and no money has been made from this.
Enjoy...
Chapter Eleven
"Oh, look the righteous one has returned."
Hiding her discomfort, Hermione rolls her eyes at the witch, ignoring the chuckling from nearby servants. Theo shifts uncomfortable next to her, sparing Hermione a single glance. She ignores the jibe; it is far too early in the morning to cause a fight.
"Susan," Hermione greets nodding for Theo to got fetch some food. "Every year we have the same shitty argument, don't you ever grow tired of it?"
"Don't you ever tire of being on that high horse?"
"Why? The view is amazing, you should try sometime, you'd have to get your head out of your arse mind."
"That all you got Granger, you're lacking your usual bite?" Susan smirks.
"The sun has barely risen you think, I have any energy to waste on you, you are mistaken."
"Who's the weirdo." Susan scoffs, frowning at Theo.
"I'm sure he could ask the same question." Hermione quips.
"Bite your tongue Granger," She hisses.
"Don't insult my staff, or I'll have to remind you of your place."
"We're the same, you just work for the one who wanks him off."
A deadly hush falls over the servants, and Hermione blinks, noticing her wand in her hand. The floorboards above creak, they all wait, wondering if someone will come down the stairs. If the Elite above heard Susan's words, heart-pounding, Hermione wills her anger to calm down.
"At least," Hermione replies quietly. "My mistress has her priorities right. I'm not sure what you get for wanking Dolohov off…"
"Bitch,"
Stepping back, Hermione narrowly avoids the punch meant for her. Susan Bones' servants yanked the witch back, pulling her from reach. Well, that certainly touched a nerve. Two days, it's only been two days in this hell hole and already she's started a fight.
"Say it again Granger, I dare you!" Susan spits.
"Why? You've just confirmed my suspicions," Hermione replies shaking her head. "Here's me thinking I had respect for you. Never mind."
Accepting the bowl of sludge from Theo she nods for him to go get a sit. Never taking her eyes off Susan, who flinches at the insult. Shaking off the servants, Susan organises her robes, ignoring the judging looks from all the servants in the room.
"You're a fucking nutter, you know that don't you Granger," Bones hisses.
"Obviously," Hermione drawls. "You think you can work for Lestrange and still be sane. If you think that you're thicker than I thought."
A laugh breaks from some of the servants, those who know the Lestrange household better than some. They all know the reputation of Lady and Lord Lestrange, no one in their right mind would want to serve them. At the same time, they are the household everyone wants to serve.
"Preach," Lord Lestrange's servant calls, lifting his glass. "We're all mad here."
Snorting, Hermione throws a wave at their servant's table. Lord Lestrange has brought four servants today, his Red Kite and three witches. They all know what those witches are here for, and Hermione feels nothing but pity for them.
Moving across the room, Hermione plonks down next to Theo, her back to the wall, grateful for his choice of seating. No one can sneak up on them, she can see everyone in the room. It's not underheard of for a fight to break out between servants, she's seen one servant knife another in anger.
"I don't understand," Theo states quietly studying the room. "Why do we fight amongst each other?"
It's an excellent question, all the servants from various households remain to themselves. Some households get on better than others, Malfoy household always seemed to get on well with Snape's household. Grab and Goyle's household share the same table and a few others mix. The obvious tension between some houses that do not see eye to eye. Lord Lestrange's household, currently warring with Greengrass. Longbottom's currently not speaking with Carrow.
It's a mixture, it's a gun powder barrel, a single light could set them all off. The year 1988, was the year all hell broke loose. No Assembly has quite been the same since all the servants broke out into a fight. Barbaric, the story still passed between households, the Elite had come down the break the servants apart. Seven dead, dozens injured, and someone bit another's ear off. Those who were there, never speak of it, but no one knows what caused the fight.
Even now, Hermione knows anything could set them off. Every one of them looking to outdo the other houses. Looking to further their place in their masters' eyes. Wanting to prove themselves. Their masters want to impress the Dark Lord, which puts pressure on the servants.
"We're all the same." Theo comments.
"We're not though my boy," the soft-spoken voice makes them turn to the older woman standing by their table. "May I?"
"Course," Hermione nods, shifting so the older woman can join them. "Hermione, you're looking well. Who are you, dear boy?"
"Theo." He offers a hand.
"Charity Burbage," The witch replies, shaking his hand. "I work for Master Snape."
"How you been?" Hermione asks, fiddling with her porridge.
"Oh, same as always." The older witch comments looking around the room. "My master is fair. It is more than I can ask for."
Hermione's heart strains for the witch, one of the very few purebloods in service to others. Even now, despite being a servant for over a decade, she still receives an odd look from the servants. Hermione has nothing but respect for the witch, someone brave enough to stand up for the rights of others. To proclaim so publicly that muggles were not animals. Should be studied and understood not forced into slavery.
Sometimes, when they have five minutes, Hermione would ask Charity what Hogwarts was like. The witch is the only one in the room to set foot in Hogwarts as a student.
"I should have been hung I suppose." Charity comments informing Theo of her life before servitude. "I suppose that would have made me a martyr."
"Do you miss it?" Theo asks. "Sorry, that was insensitive."
"I don't mind," Charity shrugs, stirring her drink. "I don't suppose I do. I miss the luxuries, but I was never truly free. We all have a duty, my thoughts were hidden, my feelings trapped. When I spoke out that day, it was as though a weight was lifted off me. I may never be free again, but my thoughts will forever be out there. Look at the time. I must go draw a bath for my master. Excuse me."
A kiss on Hermione's cheek, she smiles at the witch, promising to catch up before they all leave.
"She's lovely," Hermione comments watching the witch leave. "Honestly, nothing is too much hassle for her."
"Brave of her, to stand up, she must have known what was going to happen."
"Sometimes the easiest thing to do is to do nothing at all," Hermione replies.
"What's your history with Susan?"
"We were both at the Institute the day Miss Evans and Lady Lestrange arrived to find a new suitable servant. We were both just graduating, everyone knows the Lestranges. Susan knew before any of us they were coming that day. She had her sights sets on becoming a new servant for Lady Lestrange."
"Despite what she does."
Swallowing, Hermione glances at the younger servant, he had seen Lady Lestrange strangle her on the train. Had contemplated charging into the room to intervene, which would have ended very badly for him. Hermione didn't feel the need to explain that yes it started as a choking but turned very sexual afterwards. Mostly, because she knows she would sound insane.
"They are all the same," Hermione replies. "Besides, we are allowed extra liberties because of her standing in the world. Even our Master at the institute spoke highly of Susan to Lady Lestrange. From my understanding, she was going to pick Susan, until Miss Evans overruled our Lady. She had chosen me instead, explaining I would be a better fit and was more accomplished than that Susan. It is true, that Susan was popular, respectful, and earned favour from our master at the time. But I was accomplished in other areas, I was quiet however it made those overlook me. Lestrange trusted Evan's judgement and chose me. Susan has never forgiven me since that day. I stole her place apparently, despite her being just as accomplished with Dolohov she still seeks to work for Lady Lestrange. They all do. Lestrange, Malfoy and Snape are the ones they all want to work for."
A part of her knows she deserved to be placed in Lady Lestrange's service, she had worked hard to get noticed. Still, Susan had spent so many nights speaking of her dreams to work for the Lestrange household. They had all heard her plans to work for Lady Lestrange, to be her Red Kite. Unfortunately, for her, Lily saw it differently.
Dust drops from the floorboards above them, sprinkling their table. Strange, Hermione glances upwards, just as the ground shakes. It rocks the table violently; a servant loses footing. Earthquake? She can taste it though, the magic in the air.
No one moves. No one dares breathe.
The Dark Lord. They can all feel it, their skin tingles, fear, the magic in the air, it weighs heavily. Something is wrong. Her eyes catch that of Lord Lestrange's Red Kite. One, two. She trips over her own feet rushing from the table, colliding with a chair. A hand from a Malfoy servant steadies her. They rush from the room, Theo running after her.
The servants spill from the servant stairs, a mess of limbs each servant rushing to find their mistress and master. No one should be awake, only the servants are awake at this hour. Some of the Elite will wake early and take a walk. They all have the same fear as each other, one of their masters has displeased the Dark Lord.
It feels like a stampede, each servant rushing through the hallways and rushing back to their master's room. Hermione collides with solid stone, taking the next stairs higher up the castle, her mistress's room above. The dart of brown hair as Susan continues running straight, her master's room is on this floor.
Leading the charge, Hermione flies out of the archway of the door, spilling into the carpeted hallway. The thud as someone trips, the muttering of servants tripping on the stone stairs. She barely manages a small nod for Lady Malfoy who has appeared in her doorway.
Screeching to a halt outside her mistress's door, Hermione forces herself to catch her breath. Theo stumbling next to equally breathless. The door swings open, her mistress appears in a robe, hair messed, and she nearly walks into Hermione.
"The fuck is going on?" Lestrange demands as Hermione steps out of her way.
Naked, Bellatrix is naked under the robe, the robe that leaves nothing to the imagination. She notices the very pink cheeks of Theo as he forces his eyes downwards away from his mistress.
"Are you not yet dressed, dear sister?" Lady Malfoy enquires immaculately dressed as usual.
"At this ungodly hour? I think not dear sister." Lady Lestrange replies in annoyance. "Was it an Earthquake?"
"I fear it was not." Malfoy comments.
"The Dark Lord was merely letting off steam," The drawl of the voice as Snape appears walking slowly up the stairs.
Still catching her breath, Hermione waits patiently by the entrance to her mistress room. Shares a look with one of Snape's servants who too is just as breathless. It's a lie, they all know it, and the Dark Lord is angry. They can feel it.
"So early in the morning?" Lady Lestrange enquires.
"I have the paper if you're inclined to read it?" Snape replies handing the paper to Bellatrix.
Cloak swishing behind him, Snape returns to his room, his servants shooing away with a flick of his hand. Moving from her doorway Lady Malfoy leans over her Bellatrix's shoulder peering down at the paper in her sister's hand.
Theo glances at Hermione, looking for instruction, should he remain, should any of them remain. Noticing the sun rising in the distance, Hermione steps toward the young servant instructing him to go find some ingredients in the forest nearby. They are low on some items for potions, items that can be found in the forest nearby. Grateful, Theo nods, leaving quietly.
"Bollocks," Bellatrix hisses, sharing a meaningful look with her sister. "I think perhaps we should have an early breakfast."
"That sounds lovely," Lady Malfoy replies. "I'll wait for you in the sunroom."
Code, they're speaking in code, Hermione realises as Lady Lestrange sweeps into her room. Following, Hermione closes the door softly behind her. Managing to catch the robe thrown to her she hangs it neatly with the others. Moving to collect the dress, the one her mistress had chosen the night before.
"No," Bellatrix comments. "Not that one, my corset."
Swallowing, Hermione places the dress back, moving to collect the corset and the black dress. Stepping toward the naked woman, Hermione helps Lady Lestrange slip into the corset. Hands curl on the four-poster bed, stepping behind her mistress, Hermione gathers the laces to the corset. Bellatrix remains standing, proud shoulders holding with one hand on the poster as Hermione pulls the laces.
Under normal circumstances, Hermione would enjoy being this close to her mistress. Would enjoy, dressing her mistress while also having the great opportunity to enjoy the view. If it weren't for the corset, because her mistress only wears the corset for one thing. Battle. It's enchanted, the corset which means Bellatrix is concerned or expecting a fight.
Slipping the dress on, Hermione works to make sure it's all sitting correctly. She works in silence, preparing the boots, she slips them over each foot. It takes a total of seven minutes to dress her mistress, both moving in sync with an age-old dance that they have performed over time.
Stepping away, Hermione makes her mistress bed as the witch applies some make-up. The sun still just rising a very early start for her mistress. She will have to ask the kitchen to ensure her mistress gets a scrambled egg. She will also need to make sure she finds out the blue lagoon biscuits.
"I won't want any breakfast this morning pet," Lestrange comments.
"Of course," Hermione replies.
She's expecting a fight. Her mistress always skips breakfast if she is expecting a fight. Hermione will ensure the servants prepare her mistress a smoothie. Filled with enough vitamins to allow her mistress to function. Blended with enough sugar that her mistress doesn't mind the taste.
"Your quiet," Lestrange comments wiping an errant lipstick mark. "Too bloody early, isn't it?"
"Just a bit," Hermione replies with a smile. "Would you like a bath prepared for you?"
"We will see."
Swallowing, Hermione isn't sure why, but her body tangles with nerves. She knows her mistress has a good standing with the Dark Lord. Yet, fear nags at her. Moving to clear the newspaper away, Hermione pauses at the writing.
The Lost Memoirs
She had the most beautiful smile.
The warmest laugh.
He was my hero.
The noblest of men.
The day I used magic,
The day my hands tingled.
The first time I saw them cry.
That night when they arrived in masks.
A nightmare revisited.
It was the last time I saw them cry.
My parents are nothing but flashes.
Lost to a pensive once revisited.
I see them, so proud through such innocent eyes.
Now they tell me,
My parents,
That they are animals.
Vulgar things.
Nothing but vicious creatures.
I am safer here,
In the institute,
Now I know only pain.
Now I'm just dirt.
Why is everyone crying?
Where has the love gone?
Why is everyone shouting?
Why do I only feel pain?
Where has the patience gone?
Where are my parents?
Mum, can you come and hug me?
Dad, I don't like it here,
Can you save me?
Mum and Dad, can you hear me?
I want to go home now.
Please can I go home now?
Three years old
Silent Soul
An errant tear slips, unashamedly, she can remember writing this, a very long time ago. Luna has changed it slightly, making it more readable. Still, though it's her thoughts, her feelings on the paper. She forgot about this piece, the thoughts have long since changed. They linger in the back of her mind, sometimes they keep her awake.
She had told Luna to release another piece, she just didn't expect something so hard-hitting. Is this what angered the Dark Lord? Surely her writings were not enough to put him in a bad mood.
The date is stamped for today, Walpurgis news. How Luna managed to get this added to their print, Hermione will never know. A coldness sweeps over her, making her numb. The child in her, she had forgotten, about the small three-year-old she lost in a big cold building. Her mind had closed it off, sometimes she gets the odd memory, but more the odd feeling. She's grateful, she doesn't like reliving the memories, the institute a harsh world, worse than Lestrange manor. At least she had some control at Lestrange manor, some standing in the world. She had people she could talk to, she had her mistress. The institute a cruel… No, she won't think of it. Cannot relieve it again.
A thumb wipes away the tear, a warm hand turning her away from the paper. Turning her towards Bellatrix. Another hand encases her cheek, she hadn't realised she had cried. Her mistress hates tears. The thumbs remove evidence of the tears, the hand caressing.
"Shush now," Bellatrix whispers, no anger on her face. "Don't let this get to you pet, it's just foolish ramblings."
Swallowing, Hermione avoids eye contact glancing back to the paper. It's her ramblings, her words in black and white. They're not ramblings it's the thoughts of a child, a child who was kidnapped, abused and forced into captivity. A life of servitude.
"Look at me."
"Apologies, Mistress, I…" What is there to say, she still has nightmares of the institute.
"I have heard the stories from the institute." Bellatrix coos. "Fear not, pet, you're stuck with me for a while."
Hermione coughs on her tears, a smile breaking out. Laughing at her mistress's words.
"Although, to some, that would be worse." Bellatrix considers.
"Not to me."
"No?" A small question, eyes searching as though for once Bellatrix is unsure of herself. "Well, you are an odd one."
"So, they say." Hermione smiles before frowning at the corset.
"Your worried?" Bellatrix realises glancing down at her corset. "Don't be, I will be fine."
"You only wear this… His angry my lady."
"Yes, most likely."
"Because of this," Hermione asks pointing to the paper.
"No, although that hasn't helped. But no, something else. Don't worry, I can take care of myself."
Her hand moves on its own, as her mistress pulls away, she grabs the loose fabric of the dress. Bellatrix pauses, eyebrow raised.
"Please be careful," Hermione whispers releasing the dress she averts her gaze.
A hand returns to her cheek, Bellatrix's lips pressing just below her ear. With the warmth of her breath, she wants to pull the witch back. Not let her go. None of them is safe, the Dark Lord has been known to curse his followers. Bellatrix is no safer than any other, she has seen Lady Lestrange return previously from Assembly worse for wear.
"You're cute when you fret," Bellatrix whispers. "Anyway, I must meet with Cissy, before she comes looking for me. Come on."
With a lump in her throat, Hermione watches her mistress saunter off. It was one thing getting other servants in trouble with her writings. But to be responsible for her mistress being hurt was something else.
Pausing at the door, Bellatrix raises an eyebrow, waiting for Hermione. Shoving aside her feelings, Hermione places her mask back in place, moving to open the door for her mistress.
She falls into step behind her mistress, following her to the sunroom. Lady Malfoy shares a table with Snape, who rises at their approach, with a slight bow. Pulling a chair out, Hermione waits for her mistress to take a seat. Falling into the chair, Bellatrix grins at the wizard.
"You not joining us Snivelles?" Bellatrix questions.
"I think I'd rather kiss a dementor." He drawls staring down his long nose at Bellatrix.
"That can be arranged," Bellatrix replies chirpily.
"Bella," Lady Malfoy warns. "Thank you, Severus, I will speak to you later."
"Any time, Lady Malfoy. Bellatrix."
Rolling her eyes, Bellatrix watches Snape leave reaching for a croissant, she plonks it on a plate. Ignoring the disapproving looks from her sister, she shrugs.
"What?"
"Must you be so…"
"So, what dear sister?" Bellatrix asks, licking the red jam from the edge of the sharp knife.
"Hostile."
"It's in my blood," Bellatrix replies, throwing the knife down. "Besides, he still pissy because I got Evans. His never forgiven me."
"You did steal his servant," Malfoy replies pouring herself a cup of tea. "You never apologised."
"Shouldn't have played the game."
"A fixed game."
"No proof," Lady Lestrange smirks. "Besides, if he wasn't so damn arrogant, he might not have lost. As such, he bet dear Evans and I won. He should be over it by now."
"Not likely," Lady Malfoy comments.
"From what I recall, it was our Lord's idea to bet servants. I was just following instructions."
"Probably because he noticed, what we all did." Lady Malfoy stops, glancing at Hermione. "Miss Granger,"
"Lady Malfoy," Hermione bows in response.
"Would you be ever so kind; I require a certain potion brewing. Would you oblige?"
They want to talk in private, and Hermione is aware. Regardless, Lady Malfoy cannot dismiss Hermione. Only Lady Lestrange can but dismiss Hermione would draw attention to the fact they wish to talk in silence. Turning, Hermione looks to her mistress for confirmation. A look sent to Bellatrix from her sister, a silent order that they are to talk in private.
Pursing her lips, Bellatrix sighs, nodding her head, allowing Hermione to comply. Reaching into her purse, Lady Malfoy pulls out a potion instruction handing it to Hermione. Glancing over it, Hermione nods, she will be able to make this.
"I should charge you," Her mistress comments.
"You would charge your dear sister?" Lady Malfoy acts shocked.
"Hmm, don't tempt me. Run along with Granger, my sister is impatient."
"My pass, my Lady," Hermione whispers.
Grumbling, Bellatrix pulls a purple pass from her pocket, scribbling her signature on it. She hands it to Hermione, the pass allowing her to access extra parts of the castle. To the potion's rooms, without raising any suspicion.
"Two, if you would, Miss Granger."
"Of course, Lady Malfoy," Hermione bows.
"Leave them in my room once you have finished. "
"I'll send for you if I need you, pet."
Bowing, Hermione retreats from the table, as the two sisters shift closer to discuss things in private. Moving through the room, displays the pass on her robes, ignoring the glare from Susan as she passes the witch.
Wanting to be a fly on the wall, Hermione wishes she could stay behind listening to the sisters talking. What did the Dark Lord notice in regard to Snape and Lily? Hermione knew the witch worked briefly for Snape's household before moving to Lestrange manor. She never really spoke much of her time at Snape's. Only that she was more of a potions expert because of his teachings.
Burbage, she will ask her, she has served Snape for a long time. If anyone were to know, it would be Charity Burbage.