Warning for every chapter: Slavery. Dubious consent. Violence. Mentions of rape. Death. Assault. General gore warnings. Child abuse. Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters and no money has been made from this.

Enjoy...

Chapter Thirty

Gentle breathing, the skin a translucent yellow, the potions slowly taking effect, removing the chemicals from their system. Hands held behind their back, they study the sleeping witch in the hospital bed. Despite the odd colour, even now Lady Lestrange is beautiful.

Battered and bruised, the papers have told the exploits, the bravery of Lady Lestrange leading the Aurors to save the civilians. Helping prevent the fire from spreading in London, prevented the whole of London from burning down. By some miracle they managed to contain the fire, still, a third of London has fallen to ash.

The smoke and the chemicals have cleared, soon they will begin to rebuild. A monument will be held at the centre of the rebuilding opened by the Dark Lord himself dedicated to all those lost in the fire. Those brave souls that never managed to get free. It will take time but they will rebuild.

She waits patiently on the third day waiting for her mistress to wake from her coma. To wake from the treatment, wand next to her bed. Ready, along with the multitude of daggers the healers removed during her extensive heal.

Removing a thread from her robe, she sighs, watching the clock wondering if Lady Lestrange will wake. Lady Malfoy has visited almost every day barely sparing a second glance for her, focusing only on her sister in the bed.

A groan, it's small, barely audible, but she moves closer to the bed closer to her mistress. Eyelids moving, a hand curl, Lestrange is waking up. It's a reassurance, she needs to ask questions regarding Lestrange manor. The damage to part of the mansion has rendered almost all the mansion irreparable.

"My Lady," She smiles at the dark eyes that flicker. "I'm glad you are awake; would you like me to fetch a healer?"

A grumble a frown, the hand fists, lips dry, she realises her mistress most likely needs a drink. Reaching for the glass, she holds it aloft the straw for Lady Lestrange to sip. Annoyance flickers in those dark eyes, a brow furrowing.

"Better?"

"Who the fuck are you?" Bellatrix demands voice raspy.

"I'm… I'm your Red Kite." She stumbles over her words shrinking under the intense stare. "Hannah Abbott."

"Where's Granger?"

Moving, the witch is pushing herself into a sitting position, groaning as her body protests at the movements. Of course, it was foolish for her to forget that Lady Lestrange probably doesn't remember. Moving, she picks up the little red book, flicking through the pages, checking.

"That's Granger's notebook." Lestrange states.

"Yes, I… ugh she left it for the next Red Kite."

"Well, I don't want you." Lestrange snaps which cause a coughing fit.

"Here," She offers the glass.

Smash. The glass hits the wall water dripping down to the ground. Rule one, don't be a snivelling little creature. Rule two, don't talk back. Rule three, always… Always meet her stare. Well, that is easier said than done when she feels like a lamb in a lion's den.

"Get me Granger," Lestrange hisses.

"Ah, your awake," Lady Malfoy announces entering the room, she sweeps her sister into a hug. "Thank goodness."

"Get off me," Bellatrix growls pulling from the hug. "Honestly, you fuss too much. Who the hell is this snivelling thing? Where is my Red Kite and why the fuck and I am in this stupid gown?"

"Bella, what do you remember?"

"Ah, your awake."

Stepping away from the bed, Abbott waits to the side as Dolohov and Gibbon step into the room. Groaning, Lestrange rubs her forehead in annoyance.

"Great, dumb and dumber." She mutters.

"No need," Dolohov replies with a smile frowning as Lady Malfoy shakes her head.

"Bella," Lady Malfoy continues. "This is your new Red Kite, I picked her myself, she is adequate."

"What's wrong with Granger?" Lestrange demands. "You know I hate change."

"Your old Red Kite is dead." Lady Malfoy shakes her head.

"What?" Lestrange snaps. "Are we sure?"

"Very, I need to tell you about Andromeda…"

"Ugh, great, back to rehab?" Lestrange grumbles.

An awkward shuffle from Dolohov and Gibbon, a look passed between them. Lady Lestrange doesn't know. Shifting, Abbott tries to make herself as small as possible. Rule four – when annoyed or angry, she will blast something. Make sure you are not that something.

"Bella, Andromeda is dead."

A silence, Lestrange falls still her face hidden beneath a curtain of hair. The temperature in the room is dropping. With the shuffling from the wizards, no one speaks.

"Perhaps if you could give us the room?" Lady Malfoy asks of Dolohov and Gibbon.

"Course," Dolohov nods.

"Take that thing with you." Lestrange hisses, pointing at Abbott.

"Bella."

"NOW!"

The snap makes them all jump, moving, Abbott heads straight towards the door, more than happy to escape the room. Intentionally leaves the little red book to the side, hoping Lestrange will just move her on to the next household. More than happy to escape serving the witch. She knew it would be a challenge working for Lady Lestrange, but she is not sure she is up to it. The cold shoulder she received from the servants when Lady Malfoy brought her to the house, now this. No, she'd rather go work in the mines than work for Lady Lestrange.

"How?" Lestrange whispers to her sister. "How did she die."

The door closes as the wizard's exit the room. Taking a deep breath Abbott decides perhaps she should return to the house. Maybe she will be able to help more there, perhaps Lady Lestrange will come round to the idea of a new Red Kite.

She follows quietly behind the wizards, heading away from Lady Lestrange's room. She had heard great things about Red Kite Granger, she knew they would be big shoes to fill. It's early, she just needs to gain Lady Lestrange's respect. The rules in the book seemed a little ridiculous on first reading, but now it all makes perfect sense. After all, her Red Kite had died going to aid Lady Lestrange, witnesses had seen Granger rushing to the midst of the fire to aid her mistress. The story had become legendary between servants, it will just take time.

"Poor fuck," Dolohov grumbles.

The wizards have stopped, staring through a glass window into an unmarked room. Stepping closer, Abbott peers into the room, her speciality moving so quietly that most forget she exists. The sight makes her shiver, she almost drops from shock.

"Should just put her out of her misery." Gibbons comments. "That's just inhumane even by my standards."

"Telling me." Dolohov whispers. "She cursed Crouch Jr you know,"

"Serious?"

"It was hilarious, apparently we were too slow in her replying. A biohazard of stupidity I fear."

A chuckle between wizards slowly dies as they stare at the form on the bed. She's alive. The thought strikes her dumb if anyone can call it living. The body is deformed, almost unrecognisable wrapped in endless bandages.

"Excuse me," A sharp voice interrupts their musings. "Do you need to be here?"

"Wouldn't it be kinder put the filth out of its misery?" Dolohov demands ignoring the question. "She had part of a building fall on her."

"You know her?"

"My boss Red Kite."

"Ah," The healer nods stepping in front of the window. "We are not healing her,"

"Well, that's a lie, I can see parts of her healing," Gibbons comments.

"That is not our doing, this Red Kite was brought to us. If it weren't for the crest I would have thrown her in amongst the bodies below. Honestly, I thought she was dead, but somehow, she is still breathing. I need to speak with her mistress, if she would prefer, I exterminate her. Put her out of misery as you so kindly stated."

"If you're not healing her, then how is she healing?"

"I am not sure," the healer answers honestly. "We will understand more in an autopsy."

"Well, I'd give it a day, her mistress just found out her sister is dead."

"I see," the healer states. "One more day shouldn't hurt."

Granger was injured saving her mistress and this is how they repay her? The thought makes her sick as the healer walks away. The wizards spare one last look to Granger before heading to the floo network. She's a human being. The urge to shout after them, demand they heal the witch in the bed. No, no it's not her place.

Staring down at the unmoving form of her once Red Kite, she can barely focus on the words spewing from the healer's mouth. Dead. Yesterday she was told Granger was dead, but here she is three doors down a mangled mess.

"Here," A tissue offered.

"What do I need this for?" Bella snaps at the healer.

A motion, frowning, Bella wipes at her eye, humiliated to see a tear glistening on her finger. Wiping her eyes, the tears continue to fall, grabbing the tissue she presses it against her eyes.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

She glares at the healer, who shrinks. Granger is still alive, although barely. Would it be kinder to kill the witch to let her go? To not put her through the amount of pain she must be enduring.

"I lost a sister not long ago." The healer continues.

Oh yes, Andromeda is dead, that's what she meant. Acting like the grief-stricken sister is becoming a lot harder than she imagined. Announcing she killed her sister well would endure many questions, some she cannot answer. For now, the story is simple, Andromeda was impaled. The idea the sword of Gryffindor being used would be hard to explain. As it was, the sword had vanished and Andromeda was found dead. Another victim of the fire.

"What have you given her?" Bella asks turning her attention back to Granger.

"Nothing."

"What?"

"Well, until we could speak to you, administrating anything would be improper."

"Then how is she getting better?"

"She's healing herself."

Frowning, Bella stares at the witch the rasping breathes, even in death Granger has to have the last word. What did this mean? No one can heal themselves not like this, it's impossible.

"Then what?" Bella demands. "What are her chances of survival?"

"Yesterday, I would have said none. Today, her lung is no longer collapsed, and the wound has healed. The head injury appears to be healing. The question is if she wakes, the brain injury is extensive she may be useless." A sigh.

"If tomorrow she's better we help. If she doesn't get any better we'll put her out of her misery." Bella states. "Just give the girl some bloody pain relief. They call me a monster,"

A flinch from the healer at the insult, as Bella brushes past the witch. Wincing as she heads back to her room, the pain still lingering from the chemicals. Fuck.

"It's improper," Lady Malfoy's voice breaches her thoughts.

"Everything is improper to you." Lady Lestrange's follows through her consciousness.

"Bella you sharing your hospital room with a servant." Lady Malfoy mutters. "She should be downstairs with the rest. Not in here. Besides you have a new Red Kite now."

"Cissy, this may be hard for you to understand, however, I will speak slowly." A huff. "She is healing herself. Healing herself. So yes, she's going to share the same room as me."

"Why?"

"Oh, merlin. Must you be spoon-fed all the time?" Bellatrix snaps. "Her body has placed her in a coma, in the meantime, some unknown magic has started to heal her. If this gets out to the general public a Red Kite. A servant can heal themselves, could you imagine?"

"No, I just."

"You know what, out."

"Bella."

"No, Cissy out. I am sick and tired of your constant questioning at least Andromeda knew when to shut it."

Bang a door slams Lady Malfoy most likely storming from the room. The pain is not as intense as it was, she's able to think. Her body feels wrong, but now she understands why. How she's healing herself she has no idea, but she imagines it has something to do with the runes on her skin.

A ghost of a touch shoots electricity through her body, her runes reacting. A knuckle's gently pressing against her cheek, Bellatrix.

"You're going to be the death of me." A whisper from the dark witch.

Not if Hermione can help it.

A gasp leaves chapped lips a groan of pain, her eyes flutter under the light. The noise it's loud, too loud as though someone has the radio on full volume. She barely focuses as she tries to move, the urge to move overwhelming. A hand lands on her shoulder holding her down an unfamiliar face appears above.

Their lips are moving but she cannot make sense of them, the noise is so loud. The shake of the head from the witch as she turns her head to look at another in the room.

"I don't think she's all there, this is just a body's reaction."

"Your leaning on her wound you, idiot," Lestrange's voice.

The hand moves to allow Hermione to relax as the pain eases. Black hair appears above, Lestrange peering down at her. Absently Hermione wonders if this is what the ants saw before Lestrange burnt them alive with a magnifying glass.

"Granger?" Bellatrix voice firm.

"My Lady," Hermione mutters.

"She's fine."

Bellatrix moves away returning to the side of the room out of view as Hermione falls back asleep. Time passes differently here, in and out of consciousness. With the passing of conversations, she wonders if she's still a Red Kite. Does it matter at this stage?

Birds are chirping, there's a gentle breeze as she inhales the fresh air. Stirring from slumber, her body aches, her mind absently blank. The white ceiling comes into view for a split second she forgets where she is, who she is. The memories are not so kind they chase her to the world of wakening. Reminding her of everything that has happened.

Holding back the groan, she forces her hands to move, managing to heave herself up into a sitting position. Breathless, she looks around the impressive suite, no wonder Lady Malfoy kicked off. It's huge, Hermione's bed is not as grand as Lady Lestrange's but the room is impressive. The walls are decorated in bright colours, there is a radio in the corner, a little library, and a drink station to the side.

She spots the immobile body on the bed next to her, Lady Lestrange asleep. The clock lets her know it's early an orange haze on the horizon as the sun begins to rise. Shakily, her hand reaches for the carboard cup, her fingers numb. She knocks over the cup, the water splashing on the ground. The noise startles Lestrange awake. She jerks up in her bed, wand elevated pointed spell braced.

Forcing a smile, Hermione waves at the witch before collapsing back on her bed. Thirsty, she will have to wait for the healers to return. The bed springs shift, Lestrange probably falling back asleep as Hermione stares at the picture on the wall.

Flinching, a hand appears holding out a cup of water, Bellatrix staring impassively. It's almost as though Hermione is training her body how to move. Hands jerky, a random pain shoots up her back she winces. Grasping the cup she almost spills it. Tears of frustration slip unbidden from her lips. A hand lands a top of hers, holding the drink steady. Summoning a piece of paper, Bellatrix transfigures it into a straw.

Grateful, Hermione sips at the water, as though she's been lost in a desert for over a year. The hand holding the cup, Bellatrix waiting with more patience than Hermione has ever seen in the witch.

Slowly, the hand moves the cup away placing it aside as Lestrange moves back to her bed. Sinking onto her mattress, Hermione ignores the stomach cramps. She'd happily eat porridge right now.

"What do you remember?" Lestrange asks quietly.

"Can I pretend," Hermione rasps? "I'd like to say nothing."

"Hmm, you and me both."

"Andromeda?"

"Dead."

Swallowing, Hermione focuses on her hands, clenching and unclenching. Trying to get feeling back into her body, to get some motor control.

"So not a dream?" Hermione mutters.

"No, it was all very real."

"What happens now?"

A shrug from the witch, what does happen now? Is Hermione even a Red Kite? Does she still belong to Lestrange? Will Lestrange want to keep her after everything that has happened?

Absently, she touches the crest on her neck, it's still there. She still belongs to Lestrange, the action didn't go unnoticed.

"Hoping for a new crest?"

"Wasn't sure. Thought might have sold me in my sleep. Defective Red Kite, half price."
"You think that?"

"If Creevy hadn't interrupted us, you were going to what? Kill me? Oblivate me? What was your idea?" Hermione replies tiredly. "Now we sit in an impasse."

"How did you come to that conclusion? Maybe I just waited for you to heal so I can have the pleasure of killing you."

"I think I'd like to find parents."

"What? Did that knock on your head damage your hearing?" Lestrange demands rising to her feet.

"I'd like to find my parents," Hermione nods.

"Granger,"

"I heard you," Hermione replies turning back to the witch. "The answer is simple. I don't know if I'm your Red Kite, I'm not sure I care anymore. But you will help me find my parents."

"Oh," Lestrange cackles shaking her head. "Am I now? Perhaps I should put you back in your coma, hope the sensible you wakes up."

"I feel more like myself than I have in years," Hermione smiles. "It's simple, let me explain it to you. Slowly. You killed your sister."

Rigid, Bellatrix grows still under the words, turning wild eyes to Hermione. Confirming Hermione's suspicions, the world doesn't know how Andromeda came to die.

"She's probably just another victim to the fire. Otherwise, this would be a very different scene. Imagine if your sister and the Dark Lord found out you killed Andromeda."

"Maybe he already knows."

"Yeah, I don't think so. Because then you would have to tell him everything. Everything. Including me being the one responsible for leaking the poems. This means I wouldn't be wearing your crest, which means we wouldn't be having this conversation. I wouldn't be alive. It also places you in a precarious position, that your sister on her death announced she has been sharing secrets. Her sister is the overseer, her husband was the minister of magic. Now, you can oblivate me, I did hit my head hard. Or you can help me find my parents."

"Then what, when you find your parents?"

"Simple, you can kill me, oblivate me, torture me. I don't know I don't care at this rate."

Cold those dark eyes have grown cold the knuckles clenching anger barely contained. Slowly, Bellatrix approaches the bed, wand in reach. Pausing, Hermione is unable to read the witch.

"If I don't?"

"It would be a shame for us to both be hung," Hermione states meeting the intense stare.

"It would, wouldn't it." Bellatrix smiles, teeth flashing. "What happens if all is forgotten? You did rush to my aid, such a hero."

"I don't know," Hermione replies honestly.

"You don't want to be my Red Kite anymore? I thought you loved me?"

Swallowing, Hermione holds back the urge to punch the witch. Instead, her hand reaches out slowly cupping Bellatrix's chin. Her thumb grazing red lips.

"I was prepared to die for you," Hermione states softly running her finger along the jaw. "I wasn't prepared to live for you."

Her hand falls away from the witch, Bellatrix visibly recoiling from the words. Regarding Hermione with a cold glare.

"Besides, I heard you have a new Red Kite."

Skulking, Bellatrix slinks away, moving to stand next to the window forcing them both into silence. Where did it leave them? Despite everything Bellatrix still held all the cards, it would be up to the witch entirely to decide Hermione's fate.

The healer leaves after checking Hermione, sensing the tension they don't linger for long. Annoyingly, Hermione had hoped they might say Bellatrix was cleared to leave and that Hermione could return to the general population. Instead, she sits crossed-legged nibbling on biscuits and reading the paper.

"You know what," Bellatrix snaps moving to the end of Hermione's bed. "I…"

"Is this a bad time?"

The voice instantly sucks the oxygen from the room, Bellatrix grows rigid turning she bows. Swallowing, Hermione drops her biscuit brushing herself down, she goes to get off the bed.

"No, remain." The Dark Lord instructs, preventing Hermione from rising.

"My Lord," Lestrange smiles adoration for the wizard dripping from her words. "This is an honour."

He nods his head at her words moving into the room, feeling vulnerable, Hermione clutches the duvet cover. He pauses before the witches his snake eyes slithering between them, studying. Exposed, Hermione feels bare, moving her eyes to his collar bone, she wonders what has brought the Dark Lord here.

Luna, did the Lestrange brothers get to Luna before Draco? Has Luna ratted her out? Her veins feel like ice, the fear bursting through her droves. The anxiety flares, she wants to be far from this room as possible.

"Bellatrix, you look well." The Dark Lord comments. "I am glad to see you are on the mend."

"Thank you, my Lord, I feel much better," Bellatrix murmurs.

"I am glad and you Miss Granger," Two sets of eyes turn to her as she swallows. "You are looking much better than the other day."

A flicker of confusion rushes across Bellatrix's face instantly disappearing the witch controlling her emotions. Forcing a smile, Hermione nods, trying to find her voice.

"I feel better, thank you."

"Excellent, a slight marvel Miss Granger, healing ones self very unusual. Bellatrix you have my condolences for your sister, Andromeda had her demons but to die in such a fashion. Well, I can imagine you are angry."

"Yes," Bellatrix grinds out although angry for a different reason.

"You are both smart witches," He comments moving past them to stare out the window. "The fire was no ordinary fire, it was an attack."

"Who?" Bellatrix asks. "Tell me, I will deal with them."

"Ah, Bella, so quick to shed blood." He smiles. "Alas, I remain in the dark. What did you see that day?"

Biting her lip, Hermione glances at Lestrange, wondering just exactly what they can share. What will be safe to share?

"We are all friends here, Miss Granger," The Dark Lord states. "You do not need to look for permission. What did you see?"

"I…" She trails off looking away from Lestrange. "I saw a dragon, it's what started the fire. The fire seemed to have started from Gringotts."

"Gringotts dragon," Bellatrix states.

"Gringotts has a dragon?" Hermione asks.

"It did, yes, I feared as much. Now we just need to understand why Gringotts." The Dark Lord replies.

"There was a wizard," Hermione remembers the wizard standing amongst the destruction.

"Continue," The Dark Lord orders, her words gaining the attention of Bellatrix.

"I didn't see his face, he was standing near the remains of Gringotts. This will sound silly, could be the blood loss. But it was as though he was controlling the dragon."

"Impossible, dragons cannot be trained, much less controlled." Bellatrix states.

"Now, Bella, not so quick. Explain more Miss Granger."

"Ugh, he was stood with his hands out, there were two others near him. His eyes were a different colour as though in a trance."

"A Spectre." The Dark Lord murmurs.

"I'm sure it was blood loss," Bellatrix states. "They're the stuff of legends."

"What's a Spectre?"

"It's a legend," Bellatrix sighs. "According to legend, it's someone able to control creatures with their mind."

"A conversation for another day," The Dark Lord announces moving from the window.

A spectre? Hermione has never heard of one, but she will be researching them when and if she returns to Lestrange manor. They watch the Dark Lord heading to the door, wondering why the wizard stopped by in the first place.

"Ah yes, before I forget." He stops turning back to Bellatrix. "Your manor was damaged was it not?"

"Yes, unfortunately," Lestrange grumbles hand tightening on the bed. "The repairs will start soon."

"No, tear it down,"

"My Lord?"

"Your manor, it's not fit, tear it down and rebuild another. I will send Ogden, he will help you design a new manor."

"Of course, my Lord," Bellatrix nods.

"You have a new Red Kite?"

Flinching, Hermione grips the duvet wondering who she will be passed on to next. She may be annoyed at the witch but she doesn't want to leave. The hand on the bed tightens until the knuckles grow white, but Bellatrix remains emotionless.

"Unfortunately so," Bellatrix agrees. "Narcissa has picked a snivelling little thing."

"Hm, get rid of it."

"With pleasure." Bellatrix grins. "Does this mean Granger will remain as my Red Kite?"

"No."

Dread rushes through her body, the confusion flickers across Bellatrix's face. Not breathing, Hermione wonders who she will go to. How many lost servants in the fire, or is the Dark Lord sending her to the mines as punishment for being compromised.

"You were the one who figured out it was Lovegood publishing the poems, is that right Miss Granger?"

"Yes," Hermione nods, here it comes.

"What of Lovegood?" Lestrange enquires.

"Her whereabouts are unknown at this moment." He answers calmly. "Your knowledge may come in use for locations of her whereabouts."

Nodding, Hermione holds back the glee. Luna escaped, did Draco get to her or did she manage to get out on her own.

"I wouldn't be surprised if Lovegood had connections to the fire."

Looking up, Hermione wants to argue, that Luna would never jeopardise other people's lives. It's not in the witch's nature. She bites her tongue instead of remaining quiet. Nodding, he turns to leave, Bellatrix clears her throat gaining the wizard's attention.

"What of Granger?"

"Ah yes, Miss Granger," He turns his full attention to Hermione. "Congratulations you are being promoted."

"Promoted?" Bellatrix repeats. "Red Kite is the highest there is."

"Yes, very true but after such nasty rumours in the paper, I thought it best to set the record straight. As well as reward Miss Granger for her outstanding bravery. You truly are an inspiration to servants, twice you have put your life before your mistresses. The stories of how you rushed towards danger to aid your mistress, well it's all the news. As such, I am creating a new position, you will remain with Bellatrix as her Valiant. Congratulations. Once healed, I will update you both more, but for now, rest. Have a good day."

"A pleasure My Lord," Bellatrix murmurs bowing as the wizard sweeps from the room.

Valiant? Silence they remain staring at the door, wondering if the wizard will return? Incredulous eyes turn to regard Hermione staring at the witch in confusion.

"Valiant?" Bellatrix mutters testing the word.

In another life; Hermione must have made someone angry. Rubbing her eyes, she wonders if it's too late to pretend she has amnesia. Perhaps the universe is just out to get her.

"What the hell is a Valiant?" Bellatrix demands.

A/n: One more chapter to come. I wasn't able to fit it all in #sigh#.