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Chapter 9

Pop! One second Hermione was standing in the middle of the sitting room in the Shrieking Shack in the arms of Beckett, and the next second, she found herself standing in front of a large black iron gate fighting off that nauseating feeling that typically follows the act of apparition. After a moment with a sympathetic back rub from Beckett later, Hermione was able focus on where she was. There, behind the wrought iron gate, loomed an intimidating gothic manor. It was of grandeur sophistication that could make the viewer only assume a wealthy family resided there. As Hermione contemplated the house, her gaze was pulled away as Beckett slipped away towards the closed gate. She watched as with just a flick of her other woman's wand, the gates slowly opened for the two witches to enter. Beckett looked back to the younger witch and extended her hand for the girl to grab a hold of. Giving her a small smile, the hazel eyed witch took hold the pre-offered hand.

"Beckett, where exactly are we?" Hermione asked while they approached the front entrance. She did trust the purple haired witch, but she had to admit that this place put her on edge.

Beckett looked down to her love, "Well, we are at my home. Hermione, welcome to Black Manor." The purple haired witch swung her arm about dramatically, and the pair watched as the front door seemed to have opened by itself.

Hermione paused, confused at the name, "wait, Black Manor? As in the ancestral home of the House of Black?"

"Umm…yes," Beckett responded while nervously scratching the back of her head. Hermione froze and released the purple haired witch's hand. "Hermione, please, just come inside and let me explain everything."

The teen witch, however, remained planted in her stance. She knew of the Black family's pureblood fanaticism, partially having to endure just a taste of it in Grimmauld Place from the portrait of Walburga Black. So, she wasn't so keen on entering a house that contained portraits that would maim her with their words, or be physically attacked by any living members like Bellatrix Lestrange.

Beckett seemed to know what was running through Hermione's head and understood her inner turmoil. She approached the younger witch and gently grasped the girl's hand and spoke softly, "Hermione, I promise no harm of any kind will come towards you. Please, just trust me," she pleaded with an anxious expression.

Gulping, Hermione nodded her head. "Alright, Beckett, I'm trusting you." The light brown haired witch gently squeezed the older witch's hand, signaling that she truly meant her words. Taking the cue, Beckett led her through the manor, passing by several portraits who were—shockingly for Hermione—smiling at her instead of screaming at her-calling her a filthy mudblood. Eventually, Beckett brought her to a grand two story library that Hermione couldn't help but dreamily glance around the room. But she jumped and turned instantly when she heard a throaty laugh from behind her. Her heart jolted at the scare, but she only found the soft and loving gaze from the purple haired witch. Hermione returned the soft smile with her own, but, it instantly dropped at she saw some movement. Looking past the purple haired head, Hermione froze as she realized that there were three others in the room.

Turning to get a better look at the three other occupants, she paled as she looked upon the amused smirks of Bellatrix Lestrange, Narcissa Malfoy, and Lord Voldemort-all of who caught the girl's raptured gaze. The teen witch's breath hitched in her throat as she took a tentative and shaky step backward, trying to get some distance between herself and the now sobering 'dark' witches and wizard. She couldn't really think or hear or process anything as her body was entirely consumed with fear. But suddenly, she flinched as she felt a body wrap itself around her on her right side, and then she heard her voice, "Hermione…Hermione, please, look at me," and slowly, with the guidance of Beckett's hand, Hermione's head turned to gaze up at the concerned looking Beckett. "Hermione, it's okay, you're okay. They're not here to hurt you. I promised you that no one would hurt you, and no one will. They have no intention of harming you. Please, Hermione, trust me, they will not hurt you." Beckett pleaded to her love, she so desperately wanted the girl to understand everything that is going on.

Hermione blinked then shifted her gaze towards the ground. She didn't know what to do; she didn't know what to think. Here, she was standing in the middle of a gorgeous library in Black Manor with Beckett pleading with her to sit down and what, have a conversation with them? She was almost killed at the Ministry and that was the first time she had ever met or seen rather, Voldemort and Bellatrix. They tried to kill her and her friends, especially Harry. Despite her anguish and fracturing friendship with the boys, she still felt the sting of their lives being threatened. However, despite all of that, Hermione didn't remove herself from her witch's arms. She strangely felt like she could implicitly trust her with anything, including her life. She didn't know what to do and because so, she opted to go with the logical route, and listen to all of the information first before deciding how to react. She glanced up to look at the three other occupants standing opposite of her for a moment before she looked back to Beckett, and hesitantly nodded her head.

Sighing in relief, Beckett spared a glance over to her aunts and Lord. "Why don't we all sit down so we can talk?" She sent a glance over to the three older occupants while guiding Hermione and herself to a love seat that was perpendicular to its left with a couch and a chair on its right. Acquiescing, Bellatrix and Narcissa seated themselves on the couch which was closer to Hermione, while the Dark Lord seated himself in the armchair next to Beckett.

Hermione was clearly uncomfortable with the entire situation. She didn't know what to make out of it. However, she realized that the silence in the room was indicating that they were waiting for her to speak up. Once seated, stoically, she took the chance to observed the Dark Lord and the Black sisters. First looking towards the serpentine wizard, she was only met with an unreadable expression and narrowed her eyes at the wizard who was supposed to be the essence of evil and fear, however, she felt none. She wasn't the slightest bit afraid to engage into a staring contest with the imposing man and she could have sworn that she saw a twitch of his lips. Finally pulling her gaze away from the pasty man, she looked over to Narcissa and Bellatrix. Intently observing them, she could see the slight similarities between themselves and the witch who was firmly pressed up against her. The two also had unreadable expressions, however, their eyes flickered emotions that Hermione could not interpret.

The curly haired witch looked to Beckett before quickly glancing at the Black sisters before settling back onto the purple haired witch's face. She took the time to study her face, finding the same and more similarities that she had found on Narcissa's and Bellatrix's faces. Sitting up straighter, Hermione sighed, looking down before snapping her eyes up and she finally spoke. "Your last name isn't Blackwood, is it? It's Black." She asked, or rather stated, with a hard tone and stoic expression.

Sighing, Beckett ran a hard through her hair while sending a fleeting glance over her aunts. She knew that this needed to be addressed before they would be able to address the rest of the situation to the teen. Looking at the light brown haired witch, "yes, Hermione, I am a Black." Beckett knew that it wasn't her last name that was the issue, not really, but rather, it was that she lied about it. It was one thing to lie to whole world about one's identity, it was a completely other thing to lie to the person that you are trying to engage into a romantic relationship with. Trust and honesty are two of the most important aspects to this type of relationship for Hermione. And if it hadn't started in that way, what was the point to invest anymore emotion into it. That way, you don't get hurt in the long one. She had also lied, or more specifically hidden her relationships with her Aunts and her Lord. Hermione ran through the Department of Mysteries because of the Dark Lord and his inner circle's trap, scared for her life and her friends'. And because of knowing all of this, Beckett was startled by Hermione's reaction to her real identity. She didn't know what she was expecting as far as a reaction from the teen, but she was not expecting a simple nod of the head with a thoughtful expression.

Nodding her head, Hermione voiced her next thoughts. "Okay, then, who are you, really? I'm assuming that your real name isn't Beckett; it's not a typically Black name. And I am also going to assume that you are not the sister of Tonks. She would have talked about you whenever we hung out." All three Black witches flinched at the mention of Tonks, which did not escape Hermione's notice. "Wait, are you her sister?"

"No," came the immediate, harsh reply. "No, I am not," she said more calmly, "she is my cousin." Beckett sent a fleeting glance to her Aunt Bella who held an aloof expression. The topic of Andromeda was still a sensitive subject to broach, especially for the raven haired witch. Choosing her words carefully for her aunt's sake, "her mother only had one child with her husband."

Hermione could tell that she was being very cryptic, but with a quick glance over to Bellatrix, she could taste the sensitivity and tension. She had vaguely remembered Sirius and Tonks telling her of Andromeda's running away from her family in favor of her muggleborn husband when she fell pregnant with Tonks. So, Hermione kept her mouth closed.

"And you're right," Beckett continued, "my real name is not Beckett Blackwood. My real name is Io Cassiopeia Black and my parents are Regulus Arcturus Black and Lux Malfoy."

This name struck Hermione, trying to remember who that was. She looked towards Narcissa and then remembered that her husband had a twin sister. Hermione's jaw dropped a little bit, and look of comprehension washed over her face. Nodding, she turned her head back to Beckett—no, it's Io.

"However, much to my dear Aunt Cissy's vexation, I do prefer going by Beckett. I feel like it suits me better."

Hermione listened and nodded in understanding, but that was quickly interrupted as she was startled by a loud hiss that was immediately followed by a bark of a laugh coming from the two witches sitting to the left of her. "Honestly, Io, that is your true name. I don't understand why you must be so stubborn. Just because the whole world refers to you by the horrendous name, your family will not." Narcissa then swiveled her attention over to her sister. "And I don't even know why you're laughing. You were the one who suggested that name to Regulus and Lux. Honestly, the two of you!" This only caused her sister to laugh even harder, and even Hermione couldn't help but giggle at the sisters' antics. Despite her rancor, Narcissa couldn't help but crack an amused smile at seeing the girl finally relax somewhat in this situation. Noticing it too, Beckett smiled at the laugh.

Clearing her throat, the purple haired witch spoke up again to finish her answer. "And to answer the question you mentioned in your last letter, I am a metamorphmagus." Beckett smirked at seeing the excitement that lit up in the girl's eyes. "However, I do not take as much liberty as my cousin in exercising our ability. My hair is the result of said ability, but otherwise, I don't really use them. Only in extreme situations do I use them." Beckett bit her lip at what she was about to say. "For instance, when I was present at the battle at the Department of Mysteries," Hermione was startled at this bit of news, furrowing her brow as she looked back and forth between Beckett and the Dark Lord. She was doing the perfecting impression of a gasping fish. The Dark Lord chuckled at her reaction, causing the teen to snap out of her shock.

"Wait, you were there?! I didn't see you there! Wait, scratch that, who were you disguised as?" Hermione was simply shocked, she didn't know how to react except shout her confusion.

Beckett for her part, looked down sheepishly, "umm, well, you see…" Hermione just raised an eyebrow at the witch, waiting for her answer. Clearing her throat, "Rudolphus Lestrange."

Hermione froze, and then looked at the witch incredulously. "Come again?" Beckett just looked around, avoiding eye contact. "So, you were the one that was following me? No wonder why I wasn't held too firmly." Hermione mused. "Hold on, why were you even there?"

"Yes, Io, why were you even there?" Beckett froze as she heard her Lord's words. He already knew why she went, but he felt it to rather foolish and annoying—annoying because he had to deal with a blithering Rudolphus. Hermione sent a fleeting glance to the patsy wizard before locking her gaze onto the sheepish form of the youngest Black. She had crossed her arms, waiting for an explanation.

Beckett sent her amused Lord a glare which only caused him to laugh, as well as earned a few laughs from her Aunts. Glowering, she finally voiced her answer to the expectant witch sitting beside her. "Well, you see, I accompanied the other death eaters because I wanted to see you, I hadn't seen you in so long, and I wanted to make sure you were safe—like that did any good from keeping you from getting by Dolohov." Beckett had spoken with hesitance an slight embarrassment but by the end of her statement, she was growling.

Hermione, however, was struck by the metamorphmagus' growl, but rather mind was looping the first part of the statement. 'I hadn't seen you in so long,' what? When have we met before? The first time I met her was in Diagon Alley. And I kept telling her that she was familiar to me and she never said anything! What the hell is going on?! Hermione thought.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on for a second. What do you mean that you hadn't seen me in so long? We only met at the end of summer in Diagon Alley," Hermione was seriously confused, and she locked her hazel eyes with those purple eyes.

Shit! Beckett thought, she let out a heavy sigh. "Umm, well, I meant just that, Hermione. Our first meeting was not in August at that bookshop in Diagon Alley. Our first meeting was the day after you were born, and the last time I saw your beautiful face was the spring of my first year at Hogwarts during the holiday when you were three years old."

Hermione became catatonic. She had taken all of the information very well, understanding and accepting even, but this…this was something else entirely.

Thank you for reading!