A/n: I'm not sure how a part this chapter is going to go down, but I look forward to the response. Five more chapters to go, has everyone got their popcorn?
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 Twenty-Five
"Lady Lestrange, it's an honour to see you tonight," He smiles as Lestrange stares at the hand in disdain. Undisturbed, he lowers his hand still smiling. "I see you already met my fiancée, Luna."
Fiancée? The ground feels as though it's shifting moving beneath her feet. Luna avoids Hermione's pointed gaze. Sick, she feels sick, claustrophobic in the room full of elite. Nott's arm wraps around Luna's shoulders tugging her closer a smile on his face.
"Yes," Bellatrix states. "We've met a few times, how long now, until the big day?"
"Oh, it's Tuesday," Nott smiles.
"Next Tuesday? My, that is soon."
Smash, they all flinch, as the glass in Hermione's hand slips. Smashing into a million pieces on the ground, lemon juice covering her shoes. Muttering apologies, Hermione drops to her knees, hands shaking as she cleans the mess.
"Clumsy," Bellatrix sighs. "Do continue, I must have missed the engagement in the paper."
"I'm not surprised my Lady, it was all overlooked when that disgusting poem graced the papers."
"Ah yes, just after my ball," Bellatrix nods finishing off her whiskey, "Poor timing."
Removing the glass, Hermione raises back to her feet, eyes turned down. She cannot risk looking anyone in the eye, cannot risk anyone seeing the hurt. It would raise too many questions.
Fisting her hands, she tries to control the shaking. Did Luna use the poems to hide in engagement? Maybe Luna is trying to escape a marriage? A loveless marriage? Perhaps there is nothing to hide, perhaps Luna is trying to escape servitude. Why didn't she tell Hermione, she would have understood?
"It mattered little," Nott replies. "Our engagement was organised a long time ago. It was Luna actually, who asked me."
"How peculiar."
"Luna?" Nott nudges the witch.
"When, when you know, you know," Luna murmurs forcing a smile.
She's going to be sick, Hermione's going to be sick. There's no way to escape, not without embarrassing herself and her mistress. Holding her hand behind her back, it's practically vibrating, shaking.
Hermione….
She flinches violently, the word bouncing against her shield, unyielding, not allowing the witch access into her mind. An arm lands on her shoulder, Lestrange using Hermione as a leaning post.
"Control yourself, Granger," Lestrange warns quietly.
With the slightest shake of the head, she wants nothing more than to draw her wand, to hex Luna. To hex and curse every living thing in the room. She can just imagine the screams, the panic, it would be worth the death. It would be worth the pain. To see the horror on their faces.
Her breathing becomes erratic, the shaking uncontrollable. Luna is staring at her, she can feel the witch trying to break through her mental barriers, trying to speak to her. Those blue eyes, Hermione cannot stand the sight of them. The smile on Nott's face, she wants to wipe it from his proud chin. To punch him into oblivion, to use her mistress dagger to slit his throat.
"Anyway, it'll be in the paper, father almost insisted."
"Ah, yes, how goes Walpungus papers, any knowledge of how that poem made it into the paper."
"No idea," He shrugs.
Jolting out of her mistress's arm, Hermione steps away, three sets of eyes turning to her. Luna is staring at her worried scared. Nott, seems confused, and Lestrange remains impassive, those eyes say differently
"Excuse me," Hermione mutters.
"Granger?" Lestrange warns.
"Your Red Kite, appears sick, Lestrange."
A shake of the head, moving away, moving through the crowd, clutching her stomach, blindly she moves through the crowd. The door of the fire exit slams open as she stumbles down the metal stairs her knees hitting the grass. She vomits, coughing up the contents of her stomach.
Grumbling from nearby Elites, she pushes to her feet, stumbling away from prying eyes, moving to the tree line. For the cover, falling to her knees, the acid burns her throat as she vomits. Coughing, choking, the tears blinded her eyes, and her hands dig into the grass.
She feels like a fool. Idiot. Sick, she feels disgusted, wiping blindly at her eyes, tears that don't stop. They fall, as she stumbles from the sick, away from the collapsing against a tree. Pushing to her feet, she takes a deep breath, in, out. Shuffling her robes. Right now, she wants nothing more than to fall into her role as Red Kite. To push her emotions down, it was a mistake to let herself get attached. A mistake to let someone in, to allow anyone near her. Should never have fallen for it.
"Hermione." Luna's voice tugs at her heartstrings, it used to sound like honey.
Now it just burns, scorches her heart, it feels trampled, she feels too bare. She cannot be near the witch, she cannot trust herself to be near the witch. Appearing, just to her side once an angel she feels as though a banshee.
"Hermione, please let me explain."
"You shouldn't be here," Hermione whispers.
"I need to explain."
~Paint it, Black~
How did this happen? The thought bounces around her mind as she sips her whiskey watching over the glass as her sisters discuss the match with Nott. How did this happen? For once she wishes she didn't have a high tolerance for whiskey.
Laughing, oh, they're laughing now, she joins in ha, ha, so funny. God, she'd rather take a crucio over this. Perhaps, she could just take her dagger, and stab herself in the eye. It's tempting.
"Whisky, my lady."
Her new favourite servant, this barman has managed to catch the subtle hints. Placing the glass down, she plucks up the next whiskey. Ha, ha oh they're all laughing. Yay, they all look like pompous dicks.
Andromeda is chuckling, holding her cranberry juice, smiling, laughing, cracking jokes as though she's not just some crack head. As though, she's not a disappointment. That smile, oh, what would Cissy think if she cut Andromeda's throat? Danced in the spray of the blood. Would she cry? Would she laugh?
I know it was you. Oh, she knows it was Andromeda that broke into her house that night, that organised that stupid hit man. Laughing again, she laughs with them, watching Andromeda. Oh, they're the spitting image of each other, her and Andromeda, if it weren't for the age difference they could be mistaken for twins. If the drugs hadn't taken their toll on her sister, made her age nearly twenty years. Smile, oh Andromeda smiles, soon, so soon.
She cannot wait to take her dagger, she hopes it will be slow. Hopes she when she kills her sister the pain is immense, and death is slow.
"Bella," Cissy whispers. "Are you okay?"
"Of course," Bella replies flashing a smile.
"You're staring at Andromeda," Cissy murmurs.
"Just nice for all of us to be here."
Smiling, Cissy, squeezes Bella's arm, focussing once more on the conversation. Tick tock. You little snake, I'm going to burn the grass and you along with it. It will need to appear as an accident; she cannot just kill her sister. Maybe an overdose? Wouldn't that be sweet justice?
"Where's your Red Kite?" Andromeda asks.
Where indeed? Shrugging, Bella, remains silent as she leans against the bar, placing the empty glass down. Why is Andromeda so intrigued by her little Red Kite? What is it, the witch wants from Granger? Yes, Granger may have figured out it was one of the sisters, not too hard to work out. Sins of our fathers and all that.
It makes her wonder though, who did the assassin try to kill that night? He was trained, she had seen him that night fighting, trained and patient he had just not expected Sirius to come out of the dark. To rip him apart. It makes little sense why he attacked so quickly; he could have waited until Bella climbed into bed. Could have waited until she fell asleep before killing her.
I don't think I was the target. It's a funny thought, her dear little Red Kite, so worried about Bella. Except, that night she thinks it was Granger who was the target. She has seen the way her sisters watched her Red Kite. Cissy, well Cissy hates most things. But Andromeda, what intrigues her so much about Granger?
Then Shroudfalls, the attack, yes they had come for her. Attacked her, but they also targeted Granger. There was no reason once they knew Granger was alone to target her. She could share no secrets, which meant two things. They were targeting herself and Granger, or they had no mercy for who they killed. If the first, they had her respect, if the second then she could not respect any of them.
"My Lady," A quivering voice interrupts her musing.
Glancing over her shoulder she spots a useless servant, shaking like a leaf hoping to gain her attention. Sighing, Bella pushes away from the bar, moving to the servant. Chequered shirt, one bent index finger, left-handed, limp. She catalogues the servant, the mannerisms, its movement. Threat none.
"What?" Lestrange growls smirking as the servant shrinks at the tone.
"Your Red Kite, my Lady."
"Oh, who has she cursed now?"
A flinch from the servant, quietness from her sisters and Nott as they stare at her. Half confused, half in horror.
"A joke." Bella jokes, well kind of.
"Oh, Bella,"
Yes, yes aren't I just so funny. Fucking bottom feeders. They're all laughing, chuckling amongst themselves continuing about their business. The servant smiles, it falls instantly from her face when Bella turns back to her. A motion of the hand ordering the snivelling thing to continue talking.
"Sorry my Lady, your Red Kite appears unwell."
"So?"
"She has been sick multiple times." The servant whispers.
"Where is she?"
"By the forest line,"
"Well good, wouldn't want her sick in here, would we?"
"No, My Lady."
"Leave her be, she will clean it up."
A nod, shuffling, it scurries away to its little possie of servants the order to leave Granger alone passed. Turning, Lestrange waves away the next glass of whiskey offered. She will be leaving soon once Granger has returned. Always hard to find out she's nothing to Lovegood but a sidepiece.
Sighing, Bella plucks a dagger from her belt, watching Nott flinch as the blade catches the light. The shuffle from Andromeda is interesting. What does Nott have to fear? Disregarding the thought, Bella uses the blade to pick the dirt out from beneath her fingertips.
She could have told Granger, could have intervened but what use would it have served? Saved a heartache, maybe. Where would the lesson be in that? Too many variables if she intervened, resentment, distrust. It could have worked in Lovegood's favour. No, it had to happen organically.
So Lovegood leaked the poems… It all makes sense on the day of the release of the poem, too much coincidence. Then to use Nott's father's publishing, well it all makes sense now. All she needs to find out is who wrote the poems. Granger? No, cannot be Granger, she's bound like the rest of the servants.
A jolt runs through her back, a shiver following. Frowning, she cracks her neck, wondering if she has a trapped nerve. The tension in her shoulders, she could do with a massage.
Lights flicker around them, glancing up, Bella pauses, slowly placing her dagger back in her belt. The room grows quiet, looking at the lights, confused, the moment passes. The lights stop. Granger! Crap. She has seen this before the night Granger cursed Draco, the lights in the house had flickered.
"I need to use the ladies." Bella excuses herself, moving through the crowd as it parts for her.
Slinking out the door, she casts a disillusionment charm on herself preventing any would-be onlookers from watching her movements. The cool air greets her, sighing, she surveys the area, looking for her Red Kite.
Wondering if Lovegood may have bitten off more than she can chew. A flutter of blonde she spots it amongst the trees, apparating to the tree line she follows the sound of the voices.
Pausing, she casts a charm, stopping anyone from stepping closer, hiding them away from the world. Shouting, anger, she can taste it in the air, it hums against her blood. The magic calls to her a call she has never been able to resist.
"You used me!"
"No, I… It wasn't like that. I love you."
"Love me? Luna, you fucking lied to me!"
"I didn't know how to tell you!"
"How about, I'm getting married next week. Starting like that? No, don't touch me. I can't stand to look at you right now."
"Hermione, please. It's complicated. This doesn't change anything."
"Are you tapped in the head? This changes everything."
Smirking, Bella, moves quietly through the forest, pausing, she leans against a tree, watching the two witches. Granger pacing, raging, an animal barely contained. Luna, grovelling pleading. Pathetic.
"None of this was planned, I know what you're thinking." Luna continues. "I didn't plan any of this. I just saw you that night, at the ball. Everything that happened after that, it just happened."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"Please, I can show you."
Shaking her head, Granger moves away from the outstretched hands, unravelling. She balls her hands into fists, resuming her pacing.
"Get out of my head!" Granger shouts making Luna flinch.
"I'm sorry, I just need you to understand."
"I swear Luna, you enter my head once more…" Rage, she's uncontrollable rage.
She should intervene and should put Granger back into her place. Where is the fun in that? Besides, Lovegood should be the one to remind Granger of her place. Or has the wench forgotten her place in society?
Bella had always suspected Lovegood was skilled in legilimency to have it confirmed, however, is very interesting. Previously, she had felt someone touch her mental shields, had felt the flutter of fear. The room was too full for Bella to find the culprit, but she had suspected Lovegood. The witch acts too innocent, too sweet, no one is that sweet. That innocent is not in this world.
"Hermione, this doesn't change anything." Luna whispers. "We can still run away together."
Well now, this is interesting. Grinding her teeth, Bella takes a deep breath, she didn't think Lovegood had it in her. Foolish of them both to think she'd allow Granger to leave would never allow Granger to leave. The girl belonged to her and her alone.
"I'm not going anywhere with you." Granger hisses.
At a girl. Bella's smile deepens, and Granger is staying as though she thought she could never leave. She would have enjoyed the chase, would have enjoyed hunting Granger down. What she would have done to Lovegood, well it would have been beautiful. She would have torn the little bitch apart and made Granger watch before dragging her back to the manor. She wouldn't kill Granger, not for something so brazen, punish maybe.
A scuffle ensues, Lovegood, grasping Granger's hand. A shiver runs across Bella's shoulder, and anger pulses. Not her anger, she can feel Granger, feel the anger building in the witch.
Oh, not good.
Light, blinding light fills the forest, the pulse throws Lovegood backwards. The trees tremble as Bella just manages to cover her face. Bugger. Shifting, Bella pushes from the cover of the trees, moving across the clearing. The wand lifting, pointing, eyes void, handshaking. Luna pushed to her knees, confused, hurt unaware of the danger.
"Ah, ah," Bella hisses, grabbing Granger, and pulling her back.
"Let me go."
The voice devoid of emotion, hatred it laces the words, manic. It delights Bella, she wants to let the witch go, wants to see what Granger is truly capable of. Trying to explain a dead member of the Elite, however, would be difficult.
"Don't touch her," Luna shouts pushing to her feet.
"Oh," Bella shoves Granger aside, reeling on the witch. "Do not test me."
Unmoved, Luna raises her wand, hand shaking pointing at Bella's heart. A snarl forming on red lips, Bella moves closer, daring the witch to be foolish. Daring her to cast a spell.
"Oh, does itty bitty, Luna wants to play?" Bella goads allowing the madness to rush over her. "Hurt your little playthings feelings, now you want to be the big girl?"
"She's not a plaything." Luna snaps.
"Oh, that touched a nerve, go on, do it." Bella goads. "Curse me, I know you want to."
Breathing hard, Luna's hand trembles holding the wand aloft, shaking. Anger and fear mingle as logic tries to take control. She wars with herself. Curse me. Earn my respect.
"You can't, pathetic," Bella hisses with delight stepping closer to the witch.
"Step back," Luna warns.
She does the opposite stepping forward her chest and touching the end of the wand. The eyes widen in panic, it's overriding all thought.
"What hurts the most, Lovegood? The fact she won't run away with you? Or the fact she comes home to me every time?" The jaw sets. "Does she scream for you, as she does for me?"
"Luna no!"
Thud. Bugger. The spell shoots harmlessly into the forest, meant for Bella if Granger hadn't charged Lovegood. A mess, Bella stares down at them a tangle of limbs. Lovegood and Granger staring at each other, a fucking mess.
Reaching down, Bella's hand curls around Granger's bicep pulling her away from Lovegood. The witch still vibrating with anger. Lovegood pushing to her feet, ego bruised.
"Even now, Granger saves your pathetic excuse of an existence."
"I'll buy her," Lovegood declares. "Name your price."
A cackle, Bella cannot help it, she bursts into laughter, and it echoes in the forest. Staring at the pathetic witch in front of her.
"If you have an itch to scratch a whore house would be infinitely cheaper," Bella instructs.
"No," Lovegood snaps. "Name your price."
"Luna," Granger whispers.
"Yes, Luna, Stop." Bella mimics.
"I can't let you leave with her," Lovegood states to Granger.
Deflated, she feels Granger's anger slip away, the fight falling from the witch. Oh, my little Red Kite.
"Five gold." Bella comments.
A flinch from Granger, bewildered, hurt hazel eyes turn to regard Bella. Interesting. More hurt about being sold than being used. Lovegood is confused, not trusting the offer.
"Five gold, yes, or no?" Bella question.
"What's the catch?" Lovegood asks.
"Well, I'd like to be paid now, I don't do instalment plans," Bella replies, feeling the shake of Granger, ah here comes the anger. "Well, yes, or no?"
Nodding, Luna hunts quickly through her pockets looking for gold, hazel eyes slipping back to Lovegood. The jingling of coins, as she places them into her hands. Five gold, hesitant the hand offered.
Accepting the gold, she feels Granger grow rigid, in disbelief. Money exchanged; she moves to step next to Lovegood. Bella's hand curled around the witch's shoulders, pulling Granger flush against her.
"We had a deal." Lovegood snaps.
"Take a look Granger," Bella whispers against the girl's ear. "Only worth five gold to her."
"No," Lovegood disagrees. "No, that's not… No."
"Disgusting." Bella shakes her head. "She's worth more than five gold, Lovegood."
"That's not fair, you named your price."
"I did, Granger, hand."
Slowly, Granger's hand opens as Bella drops the gold into the witch's outstretched hand. Bella smiles at Lovegood as she wraps an arm securely around Granger's shoulders.
"There you go pet, might as well get paid for your services."
"Bitch."
Pain, ignites down her side, throwing her backwards, stumbling to her knees. Anaphrodisiac, not that many people know, but the pain does nothing but provides pleasure. It leaves her breathless, a click of the neck. Lovegood, moving, anger, oh Bella bets the witch has been dreaming of this.
Glancing down, Bella notices the small bracelet gifted to her by Granger, the spell should have caused more damage than it did.
Reaching for her wand, Bella grins at the witch, narrowly avoiding the spell meant for her chest. Now, she can kill the bitch. Once more, come on Lovegood, one more hit, then it's fair game. The wand is moving, the blonde raging, the spell firing. Bella waits for the hit, she won't deflect, she cannot.
Pop.
The spell fizzles out, hitting an invisible shield, Granger stepping in between them both.
"Granger," Bella hisses. "Step aside."
"Your money, Miss Lovegood," Granger ignores the order, throwing the gold back to Lovegood.
"Hermione step aside, please."
"We're done here, Luna."
"Hermione please, I haven't finished."
"Yes, you have." Granger interrupts, lifting her wand. "There is nothing left here for you."
The words instantly cool the witch, blue eyes, watering. With a shake of her head, she refuses to lower her wand.
"I don't wish to hurt you," Granger states. "But if you do not step aside, I will have no choice."
"You choose her?"
"I don't choose, I have a duty." Granger snaps, anger flaring, she slaps Lovegood's wand to the side. "So do you, best return to your fiancé, besides you have a wedding to get to."
"Hermione…"
"You wanted to buy me," Granger hisses. "Buy me… Like a horse at an auction."
"To save you, staying with her… She's terrible, the way she treats you."
"Your no different if you want to buy me. Then what? Marry Nott and I be your little plaything?" A shake of the head. "We're done here."
Sighing, Bella slips her wand away, the fight is over. Lovegood, stuttering, a mess, she pushes away. One last heated look to Bella before moving away slinking with a tail between her legs.
The quiet of the clearing is overpowering, the shake of Granger's shoulder tells her everything. The deep breathing, the witch is on meltdown. Stepping forward, Bella wraps her hands around the witch apparating them away.
The charms of the manor morph around her allowing her to apparate to her room. Granger landing with a thud, collapsing on the floor and falling to her knees. Sighing, Bella heads out of the room leaving the witch.
Returning, Granger hasn't moved, staring off into the distance lost. Bottle of whiskey in her hand, Bella stares down at the witch. She hasn't seen Granger this defeated in a very long time if ever. It's unusual.
"I knew," Granger whispers. "I knew something wasn't right, I just chose to ignore it."
Tears, they're falling, like a waterfall splashing against the floor.
"I just… I just kept going along. Like an idiot."
The promise of freedom, it's tantalising a lie. There is no freedom in this world, just different classes. Different obligations. Crouching, Bella's finger slips beneath Granger's chin, she should be angry. Should punish the witch for thinking of running, except it doesn't feel right. Granger has learnt a much harder lesson, one she can never teach.
"Here," Bella sighs, handing the whiskey. "Helps numb the pain."
Shakily, Granger accepts the whisky as Bella slumps down on the floor next to the witch. The darkness outside, the dark except for the moonlight. Wiping her lips, Granger offers the whiskey. Accepting, Bella swigs from the bottle, ignoring the look that crosses Granger's face. Yes, she should pour separate glasses, remind Granger of her place, remind her of the dirt beneath her skin.
"When I was four," Bella reminisces staring at the light pouring into the room. "I wanted to walk on the moon, touch it. Looked like a big ball. I was very annoyed when I was told I couldn't."
She offers the bottle back, smiling at the memory, of her mother's frustration. Annoyance at her oldest child for rabbiting on about the moon. Shuffling, Granger sits next to her staring at the bottle in her hand.
"What did you do?" The soft question.
"I set fire to the house," Bella shrugs, plucking the drink out of Granger's hand. "Was trying to summon the moon, didn't work."
A chuckle, even now Bella can remember the chaos of the Black manor as her parents tried to control the fire. Her mother brought a replica of the moon that next day to try to placate her.
"It was a good replica," Bella mutters. "By that point, I was bored, had changed to the next obsession."
"Which was?"
"Ants,"
"Ants?"
"Hmm, I liked burning them with a magnifying glass."
"Is there a lesson in this?" Granger asks.
Pausing, mid swig, Bella considers if there is a lesson.
"No, no lesson, just remising."
"When I was in the institute," Granger mutters, the tears stopped. "There was one teacher, who kept reading from the same book. The same passage, over and over again. A spell, it was so annoying."
"What spell?"
"Wingardium Leviosa." Granger answers. "He kept saying it wrong as well, it drove me mad."
"What did you do?"
"I hexed the book, the next time he opened it, it blew up in his face. Never taught the spell again."
"Brilliant."
"I don't think I would have done it."
"Done what?"
"Run away."
"I would have been disappointed if you didn't try."
"Why?"
"Brazen shit,"
"Is that all?"
Rolling her head to the side, Bella meets those hazel eyes. There are many reasons why. What is there to say?
"What do you want me to say? Want me to beg you to stay? Would that help?"
"A little."
Chuckling, Bella leans back, swigging the drink and passing it to Granger. Would Granger have run? Bella's not an idiot, of course, it crosses the minds of the servants. It'd be weird of them not to want to run. Silence, they sit in silence until their bums go numb.
Bottle mostly empty, she swirls the contents around, the night's events on repeat in her mind. So many questions, that one keeps repeating. Each time Granger lost control and grew angry, it affected Bella. As though she could feel it, could sense Granger. As though they were connected.
A soft snore breaks her thoughts, Granger's head lolled against Bella's bicep. Asleep. The slightest twitch as the witch is plagued by nightmares. Lifting her hand, she presses her fingertips to the witch's temple, quietening her mind. Stopping the nightmares.
Studying the sleeping witch, she yearns to go hunt down Lovegood, to slit her throat. Maybe she'll put her in a little jar, Granger can have matching bugs. Tracing a cheek, the flutter of eyelashes, she inhales. The comfort, the smell, that is uniquely Granger, at least she won't be tinged with Lovegood's scent anymore.
It repulses her the idea another has touched Granger and dares to touch Granger. Hated the nights the witch returned smelling of Lovegood, she wanted nothing more than to dunk Granger in a bath to rub her skin raw until she was clean.
Mine. Resting her head against Grangers, she nudges the witch's temple with her nose. Hands aching to touch, wanting to pull the witch against her. No. No. Sighing, her hand relaxes she forces her hand to release Granger.
Do you want to see a Dolohov or a Snape incident?
Pulling her hands away, the idea of another owning Granger, makes her feel sick. Distance. A hand curls against her robe, even in her sleep Granger is brazen, daring, driving her bloody mad. Bella should head to bed, should move Granger to her room, but the warmth, the feel. Just a few more minutes. Mine.