Disclaimer: I do not own any characters and no money has been made from this.
Enjoy...
Chapter Five
July 18th…
"You need a plant," Hermione comments staring around the bare office.
A murmur of acknowledgement from the dark-haired witch buried beneath paperwork. Smirking, Hermione moves around the office, studying the pictures on the wall and nibbling on her Chinese.
"An orchid would help with the damp."
Nothing, just the scribbling of a quill. She will give Bella her due, since their conversation at the party, Bella has turned up regularly at Hermione's office or her flat. One good thing that came out of Bella walking in on Hermione and Fleur's session is the witch has learnt to knock these days.
"Maybe a little Bonsai tree will help with stress."
"Sounds great."
Snorting, Hermione lowers her chopsticks, glancing at the distracted witch. They are meant to be going out, but Bella is snowed under so much paperwork, Hermione took pity on the witch.
"Roses? Pink ones."
"Hmm, yeah, whatever you think."
Very well, Hermione will have to buy some roses, just to see the witch's face. Straightening a picture of Bella shaking hands with a past Minister, the most recent news clippings, all line the walls. The failures and the wins are a reminder of what happens when Bella fails. A reminder of encouragement when she works hard enough. Hermione's therapist would be proud of Bella, Hermione's walls are littered with research. A random picture was gifted to her from Mercy and a dead plant. Her therapist is not happy with her work environment, and less than happy when Hermione describes her flat.
"Well, I only really sleep there, why do I need to decorate?"
According to Hermione's therapist she does not have a healthy work-life balance, Hermione would argue otherwise. She lives to work, it's very healthy.
"I'm pregnant," Hermione quips.
"Brilliant."
Nope, Bella is too far down the rabbit hole.
"It's Rabastians, I might be a Lestrange soon."
"Good for you."
Smiling, Hermione takes a bite into a spring roll, glancing at the books, wondering if Bella has any Hermione can steal.
"I got Fleur pregnant,"
"Uh yeah?"
"Yeah, I'm going to pop the question."
"Congrats."
Nope, nothing, snorting, Hermione wipes her hand on her jeans, before nudging a book along.
"You spent your wages on new books? Anything else?"
"I brought some wine and cat food."
"Hermione, we discussed this, what about the lamp you wanted?"
"I didn't see the need for it."
"Did you buy the blanket?"
"No, I just used a spell to keep me warm, perhaps I'm just frugal."
"How long did you spend at home not including since our last meeting."
"Ten."
"Not including sex."
"Two."
Smiling, Hermione rolls her shoulder, Fleur has headed back to France, she will miss the witch. It'll be nice to have her flat back to herself, she enjoys Fleur's company, but sometimes she just wants to go back to an empty flat, bar Bella. Bella fluctuates as much as Crooks does, coming and going as she pleases. That reminds Hermione she needs to reply to Ginny's letter.
"Wait, what?" Bella asks snapping out of her work. "What?"
"Fleur and I are getting married, I knocked her up."
The face is priceless, the chin moving, lips parted, Hermione isn't sure she has ever seen Bella so flustered. So confused, that Hermione wishes she had a camera for this. She would hang a picture on her flat wall, wouldn't her therapist be happy?
"What?" Bella demands.
"It's a joke," Hermione smiles, trying to catch an evasive noodle. "You were ignoring me."
"Oh," Bella breathes rubbing her face. "Where did my spring roll go?"
"You ate it," Hermione lies.
"Don't gaslight me," Bella threatens, digging into her Chinese with a fork.
"Me, never."
Rolling her eyes, Bella groans as she reclines in her chair, shovelling rice into her mouth. Sighing, the witch regards the paperwork on the table with disdain. The sun has long since sunk in the distance, the sound of the Diagon alley, slowly dying down.
"What's all this, anyway?" Hermione asks hopping onto the edge of the desk.
"Paperwork."
"Ha, ha," Hermione retorts. "Is this do with that cult?"
"Yep," Bella replies popping the 'p'. "We've got muggings, theft, arson, bribery, battery and recently blackmail. It's a headache."
"No luck on who runs the show?"
"Nope, guys a ghost. Any witnesses are too afraid to speak up, they wear stupid masks. They sprout blood supremacy shit, target muggle-borns and half-bloods. If they keep racking up as they do, we're going to have to impose a curfew."
"That bad?" Hermione asks.
"It's not public knowledge, thankfully we've kept it out of the papers. They killed two muggles last week."
"Shit."
"They're getting bolder."
Releasing a breath, Hermione is grateful, she doesn't have to deal with anything like this. The most excitement she had this week was Mercy stapling her hand to some paper. Paris was a boring convention where she spent most of her time staring longingly at the Eiffel tower without the chance to see it up close.
"What about the Sunset Slayer?" Hermione asks.
"Ugh, please don't call him that, where do the papers even come up with these names?" Bella groans. "He's gone quiet. With all this commotion going on, the team has dwindled. We've handed it back to the Magical Law Enforcement we have our hands full. Until they identify the culprit, we are no longer active on the case. I have a couple of my guys keeping an eye on it just in case anything comes up."
"That sucks,"
"Unfortunately, it's one of those things we need more bodies."
"You need him to make a mistake."
"Exactly we didn't expect him to go quiet mind. That either means, he has been locked up and we don't know about it. Died, or his situation has changed. This means the trigger that set him off may have changed. It won't be long though, someone like that won't be able to resist the urge to kill."
"I love our conversations."
"Oh, I'm sorry would you like me to braid your hair and talk about boys?"
"That'd be nice, have you seen the new guy on floor three? Tall, tattoos, silver hair? No?"
"What happened to Fleur?"
"Oh, that's not serious, she's got a fiancé."
"I'm confused."
"They're on a break," Hermione shrugs. "Honestly, I'm running out of excuses to go to that floor. There's only so much an Unspeakable has to do with the Ministry of health."
"I'm going to buy you a whore house."
"That would be very profitable." Hermione nods. "Speaking of other halves, I saw Tom the other day in Knockturn Alley,"
"Knockturn alley? Why were you there?" Bella questions.
"I was shopping at the Coffin House, Tom was outside…"
"The Coffin house?" Bella interrupts. "What on Earth were you doing there?"
"Alright, calm down, Bets had a book for me, she messages me if she finds any to let me know."
"Bets?"
"Betty Quicks, she works behind the till."
"Of course, you'd be on first-name bases with them."
"To be honest, some of the other shops I visit seem questionable compared to that one."
"I don't want to know." Bella sighs.
"Anyway, Tom was trying to gather votes."
"I can only imagine the crowd's response."
"Yeah, wasn't great. I did try to start a cheer, 'Riddle, Riddle' it didn't take."
Cackling, Bella lifts her legs onto the table with, a full smile. It was rather comical seeing the grouchy wizards turn to glare at Hermione for trying to start a cheer. She did also receive certain unflattering comments, but nothing she hadn't heard before. Regardless, Riddle spoke to her afterwards, thanking Hermione for her support. They had discussed Bella's upcoming birthday, and Riddle a loss about what to buy Bella. Hermione had advised Riddle on some options. Hermione has already purchased, Bella's present, what do you buy a woman who has everything?
What do you buy a woman who has enough money to purchase Gringott's? Hermione had personalised a dagger for the witch, she knows the woman collects daggers. It's an ancient dagger, not one that should ever be used in combat. But, she had found it buried in a second-hand shop, the owner not realising the value. Had spent the last few weeks, sharpening the blade, restoring the hilt to new. A contact from the Unspeakable unit advised where she could get the rest of the dagger restored and engraved. She'll be collecting it in the morning.
"I'm assuming that's the reason, Tom suggested a meal."
"Has he?"
"Hmm, he'd like to get to know you better."
"It'll be nice."
"Really?"
"Sure," Hermione shrugs. "If you can help me find a reason to meet the guy on the third floor."
"Good, just don't give my elf's any sodding clothing!" Bella warns. "Besides just gang up on the guy in the lift, that's what you did to me."
"Yes, but as a friend, I need to ask him out."
"I forget you're bisexual."
"hmm, I love it."
A stiff nod from Bella as she returns to eating her food. Hermione dismisses it as Bella is generally overprotective of who Hermione dates. Regardless, Hermione has seen the guy a few times, which reminds her of Krum. A dinner with Bella and Tom, she will tolerate it. Hermione will act as a supportive friend.
"Send me an owl with dinner reservations?" Hermione queries. "Hey!"
She narrowly dodges the chicken ball as Bella gives her the middle finger. Laughing, Hermione jumps to her feet, she has never known a woman to react so badly to post by owl.
July 29th…
Clinking, the fork taps restlessly against the table, biting her tongue as she glares at her wine glass. Forty minutes. The grandfather clock ticks loudly, the food sitting ready to be served. Hands folded, Tom stares at his empty plate, a smile on his face, forever patient.
"Fuck!" Bella snaps throwing her fork down with a loud clang, making Tom flinch.
"Perhaps she is stuck at work?" Tom suggests calmly.
"She could send an owl."
"You threatened to pluck the last owl she sent? Did you not?"
"That's different," Bella hisses shoving her chair back with enough force to send it hurtling across the wooden floor. "She's forty minutes late, she's never late."
"Bella, perhaps we could just enjoy this meal, regardless. Speak to Hermione tomorrow, I'm sure something has just come up… where are you going?"
"To see her," Bella replies.
Angry, she's fuming, the last few weeks were as though normality had returned. Her relationship with Tom is strong and happy, the happiest she has been in so many years. Her friendship with Hermione is repaired, spending some nights with the witch. Seeing her during the day at work, working out lunch, sometimes breakfast working schedules around one another.
They had planned this meal weeks ago and discussed it. She knows the witch has no work today, that's the reason they planned it for this Saturday. She had spoken to Hermione yesterday morning. To be blown off, with no letter no nothing. It either means the witch has blown her off, or something has happened.
Anger and fear mix, what if something has happened? The image of Hermione in a hospital bed runs through her mind. Broken and bruised, sure Hermione jumped to her feet a few days later, but one day she might not be so lucky.
Swinging her cloak on, Bella stalks towards the front door, ignoring the comment made by her great aunt as she passes the portrait.
"Bella," Tom calls after her. "Is this necessary, does it matter? I'm sure Hermione will have a good reason."
"She best do," Bella replies darkly.
With a blink she apparates, tearing through the sky with enough speed her knees ache when she arrives at Hermione's apartment building. Taking the stairs two at a time, she's not taking the lift here again. The last time she had taken the lift she had gone shopping with Hermione for the damn thing to break down on them. Hermione found it hilarious, chugging on her milkshake as she jumped up and down in the lift. Bella found out she was afraid of tight spaces and had almost blown the lift doors off to escape. Not a memory Hermione lets her forget.
Pausing outside the door, her knuckles rap against the wood until the door rattles in protest. Waiting, Bella waits. Impatient, she uses her key, kicking the door open to the dark flat. Silence, the little click as Crooks comes trotting in through his magical cat flat. Chatting as he waddles up to Bella brushing against her legs.
"Hermione?" Bella calls, flicking the light on.
Only the purring of Crooks as he hops on the kitchen worktop, rolling around on his back looking for attention. Frowning, Bella stares at the state of the apartment. Blankets thrown across the sofa, take-out boxes. Empty bottles of wine and beers litter the floor near the bin. Clothes strewn across the armchair, is this why Hermione has organised all their meetings outside of her flat for the last week? Has Hermione's drinking got worse? Is that the reason for the dark circles under the witches eyes?
Pushing the room to the bedroom open, she narrowly misses stepping on a drinks carton. The smell of the room is one thing as though the window hasn't been opened for a few days. The steam from the bathroom as though someone has showered, but no sign of Hermione.
Furious, she throws the clothes onto the floor, reclining into the chair. She will wait, wait for Hermione to return home. If Tom receives a letter he will contact her, until then, she will wait.
Jerking in her seat, she manages to catch Crooks before she throws him off her lap in shock. The cat meows loudly, groaning, Bella rubs her eyes, letting go of Crooks. She moves across the flat, the sun rising in the distance. She must have dosed off. She pours food into Crooks bowl, searching the fridge for something edible. Near enough empty, she sighs slamming the fridge door in annoyance.
One last check in the bedroom, nothing, no Hermione. Annoyed, she grabs her cloak heading home, to a waiting note by Tom.
My dearest Bella,
The elves have kept your food warm, please remember to eat. I did not hear from Hermione nor yourself, I do hope everything is okay.
I will catch you at lunch.
Tom.
Sighing, she heads to the kitchen, not tempted by the food from the previous night she grabs an apple. Biting into it angrily, she needs to head to work, she knows Mercy grabs a coffee, and she will grab the witch.
"Ah, bloody hell," Mercy snaps jumping as she turns coffee in hand. "You need a bell on you."
"Morning to you too," Bella replies.
"You look like crap," Mercy comments moving away from the queue and heading towards the Ministry building. "Nightmares?"
"I don't have nightmares," Bella replies keeping in step with the witch.
"No?"
"No, nightmares, dream of me," Bella replies casually, snatching a croissant in passing, a wave to the owner, charging it to her tab.
"That is so corny but extremely hot," Mercy answers. "What's up Black beauty, problems with the girlfriend?"
"You working last night?" Bella asks ignoring the jibe.
"Not a chance, I was watching Toy Story."
"Toy… never mind, what about Hermione?"
"Nope she had the weekend off, she was with you… Wasn't she?"
"I'll see you around, Mercy."
"Always a pleasure." Mercy drawls.
Frustrated, Bella heads to her office, slamming the door behind her the windows shaking. Hermione's not at home, not working. Pissed, she's pissed. Throwing the paperwork down on the table she glares.
July 31st…
Radio silence, she hasn't heard from Hermione in days. She had visited the flat, tidier, Crooks being fed, but nothing. No, Hermione, she's not at work. At first, she was concerned, but now she's just pissed off. Her raven returns each time with the letter for Hermione undelivered.
Choosing to bury herself in work to distract herself, she focuses on the latest report. Another theft, stupid little things, but when she puts it all together it's concerning. Items for potions, and medical supplies, if she reads between the lines, it means this cult is growing in number. It means they're planning something, something big.
A knock at her open office door, she waves them in, she's been waiting for Dolohov all day. Hoping to deliver the latest information from the Minister.
"Ah, Bellatrix, I'm not interrupting am I?" Algernon Croaker, Head Unspeakable standing in her doorway.
"Mr Croaker? Sir, how can I help?" Bella asks rising to her feet.
"Those are nice roses," Croaker comments studying the roses in the vase.
"Thanks, no idea who sent them."
"Pink ones?" Croaker mutters. "I didn't take you for pink, boyfriend?"
"He wouldn't dare send me pink."
"Must be Hermione then," Croaker nods. "She mentioned similarly long time ago I needed a plant for my office, next day I had a bonsai tree."
Frowning, Bella turns to the pink roses, they had been sitting on her desk waiting for her on Monday. Out of the blue, she had thought it was Mercy being weird, but the witch hadn't said a thing. It would be unlike Mercy to be unable to resist the dig at pink roses.
"Which reminds me," Croaker comments, patting his suit down.
Swallowing, Bella's anger dissipates, had something happened to Hermione on a mission? Was Bella last to know? No, it couldn't have, she's been monitoring the flat. Someone has been coming and going, she even popped by the local pizza place they had delivered a pizza just on Sunday.
Exclaiming in triumph, he pulls a letter from his pocket. A strange wizard, imposing figure, one green eye, one blue, always in a suit. Always with a neatly trimmed beard and dark brown hair.
"I was asked to give you this the other day, but it slipped my mind." Croaker states dropping the letter onto the table.
"Hermione?"
"Is currently away on an undisclosed case."
"When?"
"Friday night." Croaker answers. "She found out in the afternoon, that I was meant to send another, but we had a change of plans."
"She didn't say anything."
"Of course not," Croaker replies emotionless. "She found out an hour before I shipped her off. She barely had time to leave you the letter."
"How long for?"
"Unknown at this stage."
"Can I write to her?"
"Well…" He sighs twiddling his thumbs in thought.
"I'm assuming this is why my raven can't find her?"
"You won't find her, it's the whole point," Croaker replies patronisingly. "I suppose, I can organise a letter swap. You can leave a letter with me and I will make sure she receives it. Yes, a plant brightens this room up. They will die shortly, you should think of getting something else. Perhaps an orchid?"
"I'll bear it in mind," Bella replies coolly.
"Excellent, Head Auror."
"Sir."
Falling back into her seat, Bella lifts the letter from the desk. Bella. She runs her thumb across the name, Hermione's elegant handwriting.
"Oh and Bellatrix, should anyone ask? Hermione is visiting family in Australia." Croaker instructs.
"Australia?"
"Yes, it's where her father and stepmother live. His cancer is back, it's a believable lie. This means everyone including any lovers. Is this understood?"
"Categorically."
"Have a good day, Black."
She watches him walk away, and with a swish of her hand, she shuts her door baring anyone from disturbing her. Using a dagger from her hip, she slices the letter open, gently pulling it free.
Dear Bella,
Unfortunately, I have been called away at the last minute. I have asked Croaker to deliver this letter, I did state it was urgent as you were expecting me for dinner. I would have rather told you in person, however, timing is not on my side and this was the next best option.
I am sorry I missed dinner, I was looking forward to grilling Tom, mostly about your relationship, and his expectations. If I'm being honest, however, I was more looking forward to picking his brains about a certain new potion and questions regarding Hogwarts. He has some interesting ideas should he get elected. Alas, I will ask him when I return, whenever that may be.
Could you please keep an eye on my apartment, Ginny has been living with me for a week now. She is not the best at tidying up after herself. Ginny and Harry are having relationship issues, given Mrs Weasley cannot wait for them to be married. She needed somewhere to stay so she can gather her thoughts. She is struggling with her mental health, please keep an eye on her.
She believes I am visiting my father in Australia, it is true he is terminally ill. I'm sure Croaker explained the importance of this ruse.
I'm not sure when I'll be returning home, I hope I will be able to write to you again. I will warn you though, that once you have finished reading this letter it will burst into flames. It is just a precaution.
Hopefully, see you soon, dinner will be on me.
All my love,
Hermione
P.s I hope you enjoyed the flowers.
"Fuck." Bella grumbles dropping the letter.
She rubs her forehead watching as the letter bursts into flames on her desk. Guilt, claws at her conscience. For doubting Hermione, Tom was right, of course, Hermione wouldn't have blown her off. The flat is not a mess because Hermione is struggling, not because she's been drinking. It's a mess because, like everything else in Hermione's life, she's been generous. Offered her friend to live with her in a small pokey flat because she needed somewhere to stay.
Smoke drifts upwards, she turns to study the pink roses. An apology from Hermione for missing dinner? An apology with her usual humour. What sort of friend am I? Bella sighs hitting her head against her chair, why was she angry about Hermione missing dinner? More upset about Hermione missing dinner than Tom having to reschedule their lunch together. Pull it together Bella, she'll be back in a few days. Won't she?