Hi all! Long time, no post :( I'm super sorry for taking so long in posting this chapter. I have a lot going on in my life right now, so it has been a bit difficult to find time to update. But, I am definitely going to try to update more frequently. Again, my sincere apologies
Now, without further ado, enjoy!
Chapter 14
As they made their way up the gravel pathway and through the front entrance of Black Manor, Hermione could tell that there was something off about Bellatrix. The teen witch had a feeling that it had to do with the meeting they had with Dumbledore and Mrs. Tonks this morning. The light brown-haired witch knew that she should talk with her and address the issue, but her plan was interrupted when she was engulfed in a tight embrace. After a moment of panic, Hermione instantly relaxed as she recognized the strong arms wrapped around her and the smell of the familiar patchouli and vanilla scent that accompanied them.
Hermione pulled out of the embrace and smiled brightly at her witch. Then, swiftly, she soundly kissed the purple-haired witch before pulling back. Turning her head, Hermione watched as Bellatrix silently slipped into the main sitting room. Sighing, the teen stepped away from Beckett's embrace, murmuring to her witch what she needed to do.
Understanding, Beckett nodded and gave the smaller witch a quick kiss before turning to greet her cousin, aunt, and uncle.
Hermione quickly followed her godmother's quiet steps and entered the room before softly closing the door behind her. She just stood there for a moment and observed the dark witch. Bellatrix just stood in front of a tall window, silently looking out towards the garden in the back of the estate. The overcast weather outdoors made it easy for Hermione to take a glance at her godmother's expression. It was pensive, blank. Noiselessly, the younger witch walked deeper into the room, contemplating how she would address her godmother.
Hermione ambled over to the other side of the window, her gaze also settling over the lawn and garden. For a brief moment, she mulled over what to say, not knowing how to address the dark witch. But, before she could voice anything, it was Bellatrix who broke the silence first.
"My sweet girl," the dark witch greeted.
Her tone was love and warmth, but Hermione could tell that there something else in there too.
"Why is it that you are here with me and not with Io? She should be the one you are with; I know you have missed each other." Bellatrix questioned her tone now somber, yet inquisitive. This earned her a frown from the seventeen-year-old.
"I had said my greetings with her," came the soft reply. "I, actually, came here to check up on you," Hermione said simply.
"Why is that?" Bella asked, curious.
"You're upset," came the simple answer. Hermione looked at her godmother, studying her. "Though you were smiling, it looked to be a little forced. And when you had walked in here without any greetings or parting words, I knew something was wrong. I just wanted to see what it was."
Sighing, Bellatrix kept her gaze on the garden instead of looking at her goddaughter. "When I needed to think, I'd like to stand here and gaze upon the lawn. The peaceful silence is quite relaxing. When we were not in school, your mother would often find me here and silently sat with me until I was ready to talk. I am not entirely surprised that you had inherited such an endearing quality from her."
Hermione did not know how to respond to that, so she just shifted her position to where she now stood, right beside her godmother. She took a moment and analyzed the raven-haired witch before she turned her gaze back out to the lawn.
They stood there in silence for a few more minutes before Hermione finally responded.
"You know, I miss you, too, right?" She voiced, tone imploring. "I know that we haven't had any real time to talk and get to know one another-just as any other godparent and godchild should have-but I did miss you." Hermione paused for a moment before she finally addressed her actual concern. "Are you upset about what happened this morning with Mrs. Tonks?"
Having now turned her attention to the girl beside her, Bellatrix finally spoke after holding her silence for a moment more. "Why would you think I'm upset about that?" Her tone was curious, but Hermione knew it actually held trepidation-a color that didn't suit the typically strong and confident dark witch.
"Well, I could just tell that at certain moments, you were particularly upset. One specifically being when Mrs. Tonks contested your guardianship rights and insisted that she was a better fit."
Hermione knew her assumption was correct as she watched the woman's jaw clench tightly.
"You know, I was incredibly relieved when you, Narcissa, and Mr. Malfoy entered the Headmaster's office. Her presence and behavior had made me highly uncomfortable.
"I know that you were upset when I didn't pick you right away. But, I had to play it off as if I didn't know who you are and that I only knew of your reputation. I had to make sure that Professor Dumbledore and Mrs. Tonks believed that I had only picked you because I didn't know both of you and went with my parents' decision. I was never going to pick her." Hermione said, her tone and expression pleading, hoping the older witch would understand her reasoning.
Bellatrix's expression immediately softened. "I had realized that as you were riding back on the train. It's just; I couldn't help but fear the thought of you being taken away from me again. Ryann, you are the last thing that I have of your mother, and you are the closest thing that I have with having my own child. And when you told Andromeda that," her throat closed with emotion.
"When you told Andromeda that if circumstances had been different," Bellatrix paused, eyes watering with tears threatening to fall. "That if the two of you had already known each other, you would have chosen her." The dark witch took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. "I have to admit. It hurt to hear that. It made me feel as if I was going to lose you all over again."
The dark witch kept her gaze out onto the Manor's grounds, but she wasn't truly taking in the view. Instead, her eyes flashed as she relived that exact moment when she discovered her best friends' murders and her goddaughter's having been taken.
Hermione had no words, so she did the only thing she could do. She approached the woman before pulling her into a long and much-needed hug. And the pair stayed like that for several long minutes-just holding onto each other-before pulling apart to stand side by side with Hermione's head resting against the taller witch's shoulder.
The two witches stood there, leaning against one another, not fully aware as to how long they have been away from the others when Beckett and Narcissa came in, looking for them. Pausing upon entrance, the two witches smiled as they took the opportunity to observe the godmother and daughter bonding. However, unbeknownst to the snooping witches, that despite their quiet entrance, both Bellatrix and Hermione heard their approach.
Even though they were aware of the innocuous invaders, neither witch wanted to step away. They were both enjoying the serene moment immensely. But Hermione knew they needed to address the two onlookers. Sighing, the curly-haired witch lifted her head before wrapping her arms around the taller witch. Then, after a few more seconds, she stepped back and turned to the two watching witches who were now seated on two of the couches.
Walking over to her purple-haired witch, Hermione smiled over to the fair-haired witch before taking a seat next to Beckett. "Hi," she said bashfully.
"Hello yourself," Beckett chuckled softly, "I'm assuming everything is alright." She had asked lovingly, but her tone held concern.
"Better than alright," came the girl's response, but she didn't elaborate any further.
Narcissa and a now seated Bellatrix smiled at the young couple. The youngest Black sister was delighted to see the change from this morning to what she had now. "Ryann," she said, pulling the smiling girl's attention to herself. "I'm glad you're finally home. There has been a giant hole in this family when you and your parents were taken from us. But, now, that hole has been filled with your returned presence. And now that you are home for your term break, it is simply good, and Io has been-" the beaming witch was cut off by a familiar hiss.
"Seriously?" Beckett hissed. "Why can't you just call me by my preferred name? Is it really so hard?"
Hermione was shocked at the tone the purple-haired witch had used; she had never heard her speak like that before. She looked over to the older witches and was surprised and slightly nervous by just looking at the expression that now adorned Narcissa's face. And Bellatrix, well, unsurprisingly, was entirely amused by the spectacle.
Noticing that Hermione was staring at her, the dark witch mischievously winked at her, earning her a laugh. And when Hermione remembered how similar Beckett's reaction was to another certain witch's, she couldn't help but laugh harder.
Disrupting the impromptu stare off, Hermione received incredulous looks from the warring women and an amused smirk from the ravenette. It made her laugh that much harder. However, at the raised eyebrow from Beckett, Hermione struggled to contain her laughter. Clearing her throat, she tried to keep the smile off her face before she finally spoke. "I'm sorry, it's not funny. But, it was just your reaction that was..."
"That was what, Hermione?" Beckett asked with an annoyed tone.
"Well, your reaction reminds me of someone. I know that this probably shouldn't be funny, considering who it is, but still." Hermione was met with the same raised eyebrow, so she continued. "Your reaction is almost exactly alike Tonks'. She would always get so mad when someone called her 'Nymphadora.'"
A still silence was what followed Hermione's statement. That with sobering looks.
Feeling the tension, Hermione panicked. "I'm sorry," she stammered. "I shouldn't have said that." Her head hung low; her gaze turned down to the floor. However, as soon as she did that, a hand gently lifted her chin to look back up into stormy grey eyes.
"You do not have to apologize," Beckett spoke gently before pulling her hand back. Then, leaning back slightly, the purple-haired witch gave the younger witch a soft yet sad smile. "You know, it is actually good to hear that my cousin has some positive qualities, especially since you consider her to be a good friend. Hopefully, she has the loyalty of a true Hufflepuff that keeps her from doing to you what Andromeda did to us."
Hermione nodded her head. She understood what Beckett meant but remained silent.
"Speaking of my lovely sister," Narcissa cut in, "When we arrived in Dumbledore's office, you were noticeably relieved. So what exactly was said before our appearance?"
Hermione shifted in her seat. The same unease crept into her body by just thinking of the estranged sister/kidnapper. There was something off about that woman that screamed for her to run. The woman had this sickly sweet personality. "Well," she spoke, contemplatively, "we hadn't really covered much before you all came in. But, really, Professor Dumbledore introduced me to the Minister and Mrs. Tonks and explained why we were there.
"Dumbledore conveyed a concern that I should have an appropriate guardian to help me assimilate properly into pureblood society. And that was the apparent reason why Mrs. Tonks was there. She said that she had been close with my mother before my parents 'passed on' and since she knows how to navigate pureblood society, she offered herself to be my guardian."
Hermione would have continued on with her recounting, but she quickly silenced herself at seeing the matching snarls from the Black sisters. "What?" Hermione asked, looking up to Beckett with a confused expression. Instead, she found a very somber witch. "What did I say?" The young witch looked back to the eldest Black witches.
"Ryann," Narcissa broke the silence, "when we told you that Andromeda was simply one of your kidnappers, we didn't explain the full story." Then, sighing, she sent a fleeting glance over to her sister, exchanging a short, indecipherable conversation before settling her gaze back to the youngest witch in the room.
"First, for you to understand what had happened, I need to explain our families' beliefs. You see, the Ronans and the Blacks were very similar with almost identical ideologies. However, there was, or, instead, is one significant distinct difference: pureblood supremacy."
Hermione was floored. Pureblood supremacy was a widespread belief amongst most pureblood families, especially throughout those as pure as the Black family. And considering their close association and their reputation of practicing dark magic, she assumed that her parents held the same beliefs as their friends.
"While our house held the belief that any and all muggleborns were filthy parasites that stole magic, your family believed that there was no significant difference between the various blood types. They still believed themselves to be superior, however." Narcissa paused at the girl's confused expression. "Ryann?" the fair-haired witch asked.
"Sorry," the teen straightened her posture, her brow furrowed. "I'm just confused. That doesn't make any sense. How could they have believed themselves to be superior while also not believing themselves to be superior?"
Narcissa mirthlessly laughed at the teen witch's confusion. "Your parents, as well as us," she gestured between herself, her sister, and their niece, "believe ourselves to be superior over the others, yes. But, we don't believe that blood is not the reason."
Brows still knitted together, Hermione slowly nodded. She understood, but barely.
"Blood cannot dictate one's level of superiority nor inferiority. And that has been proven time and time again in which various witches and wizards of both wholly magical descent or fully muggle descent opposed societal expectations of performance. Your classmates, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, for instance. Both very much like their fathers and lack even a tiny amount of respectable magical competence. Whereas, in contrast, Lily Potter, whilst choosing to be a stay-at-home parent for her son, delivered great proficiency whilst using a wand."
"Though, her wandless and nonverbal skills left a lot to be desired," Bellatrix needlessly quipped, earning an amused smirk from her niece and lip twitch from her sister.
"'Tis ill-mannered to speak unkind of the dead, sister," Narcissa quipped back, but that only earned her a snort from the dark witch.
"Like you have never spoken untowardly about anyone dead," came the immediate retort from her disillusioned sister.
Beckett chortled at that while Hermione giggled a little.
"Never you mind that, Bellatrix," Narcissa snipped. "Now, back to what I was originally saying," she gave a pointed look to her sister. "Ryann, blood is not and should not be a determining factor in how people are perceived and how they should be treated. With that being said, we do believe ourselves to be superior, however, just not specifically over only muggleborns or exclusively muggleborns. Really, we do believe that we are better than those who call themselves 'light.'"
Hermione's brow furrowed once more. "Okay, then how do you believe yourselves to be superior over the others if not by blood?"
"Not others," Bellatrix cut in, "but over those who refer to themselves as 'light.' What we mean by that is referring to those who follow the ideology of the so-called light side-people who only practice 'light' magic."
Hermione nodded her head slowly, trying to figure out where her godmother was going with this.
"I'm sure you are aware that they call me a dark witch, and as well have been told that your parents were extremely dark, too," Bella led her further.
Hermione nodded again, "yes. Where are you going with this?" She sounded a little impatient.
"Where she is going," Beckett cut in this time, seeing her blonde aunt's eyes narrowing with a slight glare at the girl's lip. "Is those that call themselves 'light' use the illusion of 'light' magic as the basis for their philosophy to spread their stringent, restrictive ideas to keep everyone in line, where they are supposed to be. Certain types of magic shouldn't be used. Women should only act like this, and men act like that. Some beliefs are highly preached, while others are severely frowned upon.
"Magic was never meant to be a political or social stance. It is neither light nor dark. It is constant and neutral. And it is intended to be used freely, safely, but freely. And we," Beckett motions herself and her aunts, "believe in that. Magic should never be limited or used as a tool to force people into these tiny little boxes. And with that thought and understanding, anything can be achieved, and everything is possible. And that is including with how we live our lives-regardless of how much or little we use our magic."
"You see, Ryann," Narcissa said, pulling the girl's attention to her. "That is the basis as to why we believe we are superior to them. It is not because of blood status. There are many purebloods that follow the light side, but it is because we are not ignorant, especially willfully.
"However, as time passes on, for the majority, it is not their fault. They don't know better. You," she motioned to Hermione herself, "didn't know any better when you first entered the wizarding world as an eleven-year-old witch. There are old traditions that were once extensively taught at Hogwarts. They were heavily encouraged for the students to learn, most importantly for muggleborns and halfbloods raised in the muggle world. Of course, one needs to know the society in which they live. But the nature and origins of these traditions were cast aside, classified as dark. All because it went against what those who claimed the light believed ideal and right."
"Okay, so then what does all of this have to do with Mrs. Tonks?" Hermione asked, getting the group back onto the main topic of their discussion.
"Everything," Bellatrix replied quietly and darkly.
Hermione furrowed her brows at the blanket, yet vague declaration in confusion.
Narcissa sent a fleeting glance over to the dark witch before turning her attention to the very concentrated teen witch. "I assume you were told from either Sirius or Nymphadora that Andromeda had run away with her muggleborn husband after she fell pregnant with their daughter; afraid of what her family would do to her when they found out."
Hermione slowly nodded, "how do you know that?"
Narcissa smirked slightly, amused as she remembered how she learned of this piece of information. "Having friends within the Ministry goes a long way, my dear. Word spread throughout rather quickly, as I'm sure you are aware." she received a confused nod. "Some Slytherins weren't afraid to call out her parentage and her mother's traitorous ways. She was always very vocal when she got upset."
"And what did you do about that?" Hermione, in turn, questioned Beckett.
The purple-haired witch simply shrugged. "I didn't really care for her. She's Andromeda's daughter; guilty by association, you can say. I never antagonized her, but I never stopped my housemates from their fun. I felt she deserved it, and she didn't deserve any of my time."
Beckett was really blase about her relationship with Nymphadora during their Hogwarts years. And as much as Hermione wanted to be annoyed by her girlfriend's behavior and attitude towards her friend, she couldn't blame Beckett for her feelings. The purple-haired witch and her aunts felt wronged by Andromeda, and what Beckett said was true: guilty by association, especially in the case of betrayal.
Thoughtfully, Hermione nodded before turning her attention back to Narcissa, waiting for her to continue.
"It was a complete lie, her story," Narcissa said. "We," she gestured to herself and Bellatrix, "and our parents did not care if she had fallen in love with a muggleborn. Of course, our parents were considerably disappointed when they found out that she was pregnant before graduating. And to further dispel that cretinous story, she did move out to live with her soon-to-be husband to live quietly with their soon-to-be-born daughter. However, the three of us, sisters, were actually close up until shortly after your second birthday. Or at least that was what we thought," she added as an afterthought.
"She was correct when she had said that your parents and herself were friends. However, it was not as close as she made it to be. But, of course, she was as every bit of a Slytherin as the rest of us: cunning, ambitious, resourceful, and strategic. Andromeda also possessed the other typical Slytherin trait of self-preservation, though. Whenever there were any fights or duels with the Gryffindors, she would never engage despite impressive magical prowess. But, we never questioned it or pressured her. So, when that heinous night came forth, we shouldn't have been surprised. But, it was our love for her that clouded our better judgment.
"Shortly after your second birthday, she became evasive and secretive. She had stopped visiting as often as she used to do. However, when she was over, you were typically present-along with Draco and Io, of course-and I, as well as your mother, noticed that she had begun to pay particular attention to you. I am not sure how to really describe it, but it was rather odd. It wasn't until that night that we realized why she was acting that way. You see, none of the others involved had any associations with any of those who were associated with us. The only person with any remote closeness to us was our sister. She was the only one who knew of your relationships with each of us and your importance.
"We are not sure of who the true mastermind-aside from Dumbledore-behind these actions, but we know with absolute certainty that Andromeda had a significant role." The blonde witch finished her long monologue of an explanation and took note of the pensive expression that now laid on the girl's face.
She had a frown on her face; her brow furrowed. Hermione was trying to understand how and why someone could do this to their family-a family who loved her and never judged her. But, she couldn't understand it, nor could she understand how Andromeda could do with to her friends-do to a child. Just how? Letting out a frustrated sigh, Hermione looked to her godmother. "How...why would she do this? I don't understand. It doesn't make any sense. Why would she do this to her friends, her family?"
Bellatrix gave the girl a sympathetic smile, understanding very well the sense of confusion and pain. She, herself, had felt the same way. That is why it is so hard to talk about her sister, the betrayal. Looking at the girl's anguish made a desire to comfort her goddaughter build. But, that was already covered by her niece. "Sweet girl, I have asked myself that for the past fourteen years, and I've never been able to answer that question."
Hermione released another sigh, "now I wish that I would have known this before that meeting this morning. I wouldn't have been as nice to her if I knew."
Hermione received incredulous stares from the other three witches at her glib remark. "How are you able to be so flippant at the moment like this? I expected another reaction of some sort, but not that," Beckett said with a disbelieving tone.
"I don't even know how to react, so hence my statement," came the simple reply.