Disclaimer: I do not own any characters and no money has been made from this.
Enjoy...
Chapter Seven
October 31st…
Regroup. Fuck they need to regroup. Breathless, she collides with a wall stealing much-needed oxygen. Narrowly choking on the smoke that's swirling around the building. Voice hoarse, she listens to the chaos unable to give the order to regroup.
Controlling her nerve, she pushes from cover slipping through the shadows and advancing on the chaos in the distance. It's foolish. This whole thing is foolish, but desperation is pushing them. Forcing them to make reckless decisions like chasing some of the cults through the streets. Forcing them on foot, not allowing them to apparate out. They had known they were coming, had expected them, it went from bad to worse. She lost two Aurors on the first raid, she should have called a retreat then.
Not dead, just injured, it's what she told herself as they pushed on. Pushed forward, chasing the suspects through the street. Dolohov followed one half, she and a few others gave chase the other way. She had seen the masked cult member with the half moon, the urge to follow to get them. It blinded her, the fury, that's been building.
The worse part, it confirms her worst suspicion, the only people who knew there would be a raid tonight were the Auror unit. No one else knew. Which means one or more in her unit is a mole.
A cry of pain, a flash of a spell, catches her attention, her feet sliding across the cold warehouse. With a flutter of movement the falling of another, she watches the masked figure slip away. Rushing forward, she feels for a pulse, her skin touching the cold neck. Fuck. Weasley. God if he dies, Hermione will never forgive her.
"Boss," Weasley croaks with half-lidded eyes, clutching his side. "Go, don't let 'em get away."
"Weasley."
"I'm fine, just winded."
Pushing to her feet, she drags Weasley across the floor until his back touches the safety of the metal container. Wand held tight in his sweaty grip, she gives chase to the fleeing suspect.
Two phantoms chasing through the dark, two silhouettes dancing in the light of the moon. They have a head start, Bella is aware she's been led away from her group. She should stop, should head back, it could be a trap. Stupefy. The spell barrels out of her wand, hurtling through the air, striking the chain and suspending the machinery.
The ground shakes, dust kicked up, and the deafening crunch that fills the air as the machinery crashes against the cold ground. Narrowly missing the fleeing suspect who manages to dive to the side last minute.
Sliding to a stop, Bella holds her wand aloft, watching the masked figure like a hawk. Jumping to their feet back straight, the figure turns, brushing dust from their shoulder as a wand dangles dangerously between nimble fingers.
"Drop your wand!" Bella orders.
A shoulder rolls, the moon striking their mask. Half moon, the crest glows in the light. Well, Bella will be damned it's almost like fate.
"Drop your wand," Bella instructs once more stepping forward. "Don't be foolish now."
Silence, the head tilts to the side, calculating. Unnerved, Bella tightens her grip on the wand. She barely deflects the spell that crashes heavily against her shield, driving her backwards. Fuck.
A flex of the hand, it curls, the spell burning as it exits her wand, crashing against an invisible shield. Amber collides with blue as two spells strike, the ground shifting beneath them. A window smashes the glass raining down, and Bella doesn't flinch. Moving with the spell, her feet navigate the uneven floor.
She drops the spell a hex barrelling out the end of her wand smashing against a metal panel that caves inward. Effortless as spell after spell leaves her wand an onslaught striking a shield or narrowly missing the nimble figure. Heat grazes her cheek making her flinch backwards, a spell narrow missing her side. Cursing she shifts to the side, her shield shaking from impact.
What the hell is this? Voiceless, the masked figure dances in the madness of the duel. Unflinching spells with enough force to shatter bones, to decimate and cause destruction. Wordless and some invisible. Unrelenting, the figure fires back, almost mimicking Bella's previous movements.
Sweat drips between her shoulder blades, a metal conveyor belt thrown to the side. As they move with the duel the smoke chases them gathering at their feet. They bend with each swerve of the duel, matching in intensity. Male or female? Bella can barely tell, they don't stand still long enough for her to focus. Baggy clothes, movements stiff, either by design or not, but they give nothing away.
Pop, her ear drum bursts, the force throwing her from her feet. A wall blowing apart, an errant spell from their duel. A fire sparks, and flames lap hungrily against the destroyed wall. The smoke growing, eyes watering she coughs, spluttering.
Groggy, her hands give out underneath her as she struggles to push to her knees. A harsh kick to the side, sends her hurtling onto her back. A groan, a rib cracking. A foot lands heavily on her neck, and she grips the ankle, digging her nails trying to push them away.
Only the mask stares down at her she can see no eyes beneath the mask. Fuck. She hammers her hand against the leg trying to break free.
"We need to go!" A voice shouts a figure sliding into view. "Shit, is that Black?"
With the slightest nod the foot pressing tighter, gasping, Bella struggles to catch her breath. Her windpipe restricting, and her left-hand fumbles for her dagger. Just a few inches.
Crunch. A scream breaks through the air. Is this her death? No, breath rushes through her lungs the foot gone. Blinking, Bella coughs trying to inhale the oxygen but it's tainted with black smoke. Crying, someone is crying.
"Your fucking crazy!" The masked man is screaming.
Something wet splashes against Bella's face, making her flinch, pushing, she sees the other masked figure clutching his wrist. Oh. A hand holding a wand laying harmless on the ground. Blood spurting, the silent masked figure moving.
"I will tell him, fucking report you. To the Dark Lord to…"
Splat. Blood splashes against Bella's face, a glint of silver. Bella's dagger was held in the hands of the silent masked figure. Clutching, the man is clutching his throat, blood seeping through his fingers, gargling, struggling he collapses backwards, trying to crawl away.
Scrambling, Bella reaches for her fallen wand, a foot landing heavily on her outstretched hand. Cursing, she swings, her free hand only for it to be caught in an iron grip. Her head hits the ground, adding to the increasing headache. The dagger dangles against her neck, her dagger. Bloodied, it touches the skin.
"Fucking do it!" Bella hisses.
The head cocks to the side, fingers ghosting across Bella's cheek. Smiling. Bella knows they're smiling she can feel it despite the mask. Growling, Bella throws her weight against the figure, forcing them backwards.
Her foot lashes out, smacking the figure in the chest, the dagger dropping. Hitting the ground. Pushing to her feet, Bella loses balance stumbling to her knees, grasping her dagger. The world doubles. Silent. A smell makes her bulk, burning. The figure, clutching their side, blood dripping between their fingers. Pushing forward, Bella winces as the figure pulls themselves from the overheated metal. Burning flesh. Stumbling, the figure holds their back, no words.
"BLACK!" A voice shouts.
Glancing over her shoulder, she can hear the footsteps of Aurors rushing towards her, Dolohov. She's never been so happy to hear the idiot's voice.
"Surrender now…" Bella trails off.
Gone. The figure is gone. A new fire started, burning across the burnt metal, destroying any evidence left behind. Hands grab her shoulders, she fights narrowly missing them with her dagger.
"It's me, Bella it's me." Dolohov whispers. "Shit, healers, we need healers."
"Them, grab them!" Bella orders Dolohov drags her to her feet.
"They're dead," Dolohov reasons.
"We need their identity, this place is going up. Grab them!"
"You heard her…"
The world goes black.
Reawakening is not enjoyable, every inch of her body aches. She winces at the little light, her head throbbing. Groaning, she tries to adjust herself, to ease the pressure on her back, the pain at the lower of her back.
"Bella," A hand grabs hers, warm and comforting.
Hermione…
"Oh, thank goodness your awake." Narcissa appears above her a hand on Bella's shoulder.
Groaning, Bella stares up to the white ceiling, why did it have to be Narcissa? Rubbing her forehead, she tries to ease the pressure. She had hoped it was a dream, that none of it happened. Her head is ringing and if the drab surroundings are anything to go by she's in St Mungos.
"Cissy," Bella greets with a murmur.
"Don't Cissy me, gosh, were you trying to give me a heart attack. Covered in blood when they brought you in!"
"Wasn't mine."
"No, I was reassured of that, but the concussion you suffered. Your lucky to be alive!"
"Yay," Bella replies sarcastically. "Did they catch anyone?"
"Bella, you are injured, forget about work."
"I can't do that."
"Tough," Narcissa replies. "You're on bed rest until the healers determine your health."
"How long have I been out?" Bella asks.
"At least two hours since they brought you in. Why?"
5 Minutes later…
The pen is a mess, Aurors muddling through, filling out reports. Checking on one another, it's absolute miracle that none of them was killed. One of them won't be returning to active duty, but they didn't die. Weasley, injured but currently sat by his desk filling out information.
"Have we identified the dead guy yet?" Dolohov asks.
"Currently on it," A voice replies.
"We…" He trails off.
The room turns quiet, deathly pale, Bellatrix appears in the doorway, moving through the pen as though nothing has happened. As though he hadn't dragged her out of a burning warehouse only a few hours ago.
"The fuck are you doing here?" Dolohov demands.
"Working," Bella replies casually.
He watches her move towards the board, picking up the chalk. Disbelieving as she begins to write on the board. He wants to laugh, wants to slap the witch and send her back to the hospital. He values his life and doesn't dare anger the witch.
"Here," Bella states stepping back from the board.
"What's this?" Dolohov asks.
"These are all hospitals that need checking."
"Sorry?"
"This twat," Bella pulls the picture of the half moon mask from the spare board. She slaps it against the board. "I want all these hospitals checked, along with these black market hospitals."
"We don't know what they look like." Dolohov replies, perhaps the bump to the head did a number on her.
Clunk. They all flinch as a piece of metal lands on a table. Confused, they stare at the metal shaped like the roots of a tree.
"We are looking for someone who was admitted with burn marks in the last few hours. This distinctive burn mark will be on the left side of their back. Running from their hip to the shoulder. It would need to be treated by an extensive healer. These are blood purest there's not a chance they would go to a muggle hospital."
Silence.
"Go!" Bella snaps.
Silently, he watches as Aurors stumble over themselves as they rush to escape the office. Even Weasley tries to get up but Bella waves him down. Only a few remain he watches Bella wobble slightly. Quietly, he draws a chair, carefully placing it behind her before pushing her down.
"You're too stubborn," Dolohov comments at her disapproving look.
A grunt is the only reply, a flash of blonde catches his attention a disapproving Narcissa Malfoy appears in the doorway. A groan from Bellatrix as her sister storms into the office. Dolohov steps away, choosing to file his report instead.
"Honestly, sneaking out after making me go get you chocolate?" Narcissa whispers heatedly. "How old are you?"
"Worked, didn't it?" Bella smirks.
Smiling, Dolohov taps his quill against the scroll recalling the night's events. Watching Bellatrix sulk. The whole night was reckless, they were all reckless, usually, Bella has a better grip on them all. Wouldn't have been so reckless, normally more tactical in mind, but he noticed lately her attention slip. This cult has got them all spun out of sync, but it's more than that. He knows the letters on Bella's desk are fake, the ones from Hermione. Bella would never leave any private letters on show. Never.
He knows Croaker delivers the real ones, had caught the odd smell of smoke as they burnt once they had been read. He also noticed Bella hasn't received a real letter since September 25th. Over a month since they last spoke.
"Stop faffing Cissy," Bella hisses.
He can only hope Bella receives a letter from Hermione soon, he's not sure he can handle an antsy Bella any longer.
November 5th…
It never gets easier sitting in the base before some of the Wizengamot, the Minster and a selected few. Those who are trusted to oversee the Auror department. Their cold stares watching above from their perches. She knew it was coming, a mission like the other day could not endure scrutiny.
Especially something that has been kept secret away from prying eyes and ears. Well, there would always be a backlash. It would land on her shoulders, she was in charge, and she would not let anyone else take the fall.
Since her role as Head Auror the crime rate has fallen dramatically, in some ways it's comical. Sitting on their high horses staring down at her they don't understand the effort it takes. How many hours her unit has worked and how many days they have worked over time.
Tom stares down from his perch, she barely spares him a second glance. She could care less if they were in a relationship. Could be care less if he felt angry at not being kept informed. She had told him in no uncertain terms despite their relationship it did not give him privy to certain information.
It might be a decidedly rocky relationship, they had spoken after their argument. He had apologised, she had glossed over it. Pretended like most things it didn't bother her because deep down a seed had been planted. Something she had struggled to understand, her dreams of Hermione not helping. String her along… The words bounce around in her mind, but not for the reason he probably suspected. Was she stringing Hermione along or was she just stringing Tom along? It was nice to be wanted, to have someone need her.
She holds back the sigh, not listening to the words spewing from a member of the Wizamengot. Absently wondering about Hermione she hasn't heard from the witch since September. Croaker had reassured her that Hermione was too deep to send a letter, that she was fine. She was still worried though, concerned about the witch. What if something happened? How long until she found out? Would she ever find out? Or would Croaker tell the world that Hermione simply chose to relocate to Australia permanently?
"Adding to the claims of torture." The shrill voice rings out lowering the scroll.
She cannot help the smile that slips across her face. It doesn't go unnoticed. It was true she had tortured someone, she wouldn't lie if she didn't say she didn't enjoy it.
"Why am I 'ere?" He spits as Dolohov drags the wizard into the burnt shell of the warehouse.
"We're hoping to jog your memory," Bella announces stepping forward to greet the pair.
"You think you can scare me, Black?" He scoffs. "I ain't telling you shit."
"Oh, Barty," Bella smiles drawing her wand. "I don't need you to say a word. Thank you, Antonin, that'll be all."
"You sure you don't want me to stay?" Dolohov asks.
"I think you won't want the credit for this."
"Your all talk." Barty Crouch Jr scoff as Dolohov walks away.
"Let's start simple," Bella smiles. "Crucio."
Having Barty Crouch Jr, revealed to be the wizard they'd been after was the icing on the cake. Dolohov had caught the wizard trying to flee, she had done the rest.
"You seem proud of yourself, Bellatrix?" Scrimgeour comments.
"Of course not," Bella replies casually. "Was just considering what to have for tea."
"You think this to be a laughing matter?" Minister Shacklebolt retorts.
"Ask your questions Minister," Bella replies.
"There are no more questions, how do you plea to these allegations?" Shacklebolt demands.
"Under section fourteen, subparagraph b, during a state of emergency Aurors can use tactics that would be deemed inappropriate." Bella answers.
"We are not in a state of emergency." Bones comments.
"Section 7, subparagraph d, should the Minister declare a nationwide curfew that lasts for more than seven days. A state of emergency will be declared by all units within the Ministry unless declared otherwise in a vote of confidence by the Wizengamot. If no vote of confidence is recorded a state of emergency will resume until the end of a curfew."
Hands folded on her lap, watching the members discuss the information between themselves. Smirking as they pull the tomb, flicking through to confirm the information.
"Under the White Council law, Hastings, page eight, section forty-two paragraph c. The investigation into misconduct must be done so by impartial members of the Wizamegot. Failure to do so is a breach of Hastings Law and Imperial adjudication section c. In translation, because Tom and myself are coupling, this breaches Hastings law, but my statutory rights and breach of Imperial Adjudication law that I am governed by as Head Auror." She pauses raising an eyebrow. "Now, due to failure of this, I could technically sue. But I'm sure none of us wants the paperwork."
"You would sue the ministry?" Bones demands.
"I am trying to do my job," Bella replies tersely. "To which you fail to understand. Now, I am more than happy to sue the ministry, heavens I think my lawyer would salivate at the opportunity, and given the poor state of affairs, the ministry is currently in. I do not think it could survive the hit. Since my account at Gringgott's is already cracking the floor, I don't feel as though I need to add any more to it. So, I will make this clear, given there is no evidence of misconduct taking place. Either charge me with something or allow me to get back to work."
"Answer me this, Ms Black," Shacklebolt states staring down at the witch. "Was anything gained from interrogating Mr Crouch Jr this morning?"
"Yes," Bella answers. "A great many things, however, Crouch was not interrogated this morning, this was a rumour spread. He was interrogated three days ago, and as such, my unit should be back with the payoff."
Rising from her seat, she notices the surprise on Tom's face, the silent anger. She feels some remorse for the wizard, after all, she had tricked him into attending the meeting.
"I feel the Curfew may be lifted sooner than we hoped," Bella states confidently. "Is there anything else, Minister?"
"No, please return to work, I feel this meeting is at an end."
She nods stepping down from the podium and heading for the exit leaving the members to bicker amongst themselves. It's all a political farce, Crouch had played the only card he had left. Calling upon his father Crouch Senior, explaining he had been wrongly accused, tortured into a confession. Wrong place wrong time, it's surprising how often that happens.
A hand grabs her elbow, snapping her from thoughts, her wand pressing threateningly against the throat of the assailant.
"Bloody hell, Tom, are you looking for a hex?" Bella snaps lowering her wand.
"You used me," Tom snaps in a cold fury.
"Don't be so dramatic," Bella dismisses raising an eyebrow when the hand on her elbow refuses to budge. "Let me go,"
It's a warning, subtle. The hand clutching her elbow, she can feel the fingers digging in, knowing there will be bruises. His free hand, she can see it shifting looking for its counterpart, feeling for his wand. He snaps out of his fury releasing her elbow immediately as he steps back.
Placing distance between them, she refuses to massage her elbow, she won't give him the satisfaction. Satisfaction? A shiver runs through her, watching the cold fury vanish as though it was never there. The charming face reappeared as though it was all in her mind. He's a slimeball. The words bounce in her mind, a conversation with Hermione from ages ago. From the night of the party, she had asked Hermione to elaborate further over lunch some time ago. 'I don't know Bella, he just gives me the creeps. Probably cause he's a politician.'
Hermione had laughed the comment off, they both had. Hadn't they?
"You could have warned me," Tom sighs.
"Please," Bella rolls her eyes. "You want to play politician Tom, this is the game. I have work to do."
"Who did you find?" Tom asks. "Who did Barty give you?"
"Why would you want to know that?" Bella questions.
"I need to know if there are any more members of the Ministry who will be part of this. The Ministry needs to get ahead of this."
"I can't tell you that."
"Since when?"
"Since we had a mole."
She leaves him alone in the corridor, heading back to the Auror unit. A few days ago, she had played a game. A rumour started, passed between four suspected members of her Auror unit all the ones she suspected of leaking information. Only one rumour found its way back to her. Which meant, she had found the mole. Now it was a matter of using that mole to her advantage. She could arrest them, but she needs them active and needs to feed the wrong information back to the cult. For now, they are useful.
Numbness washes over her as she stares at the wizard handcuffed to the table. Sick, she feels physically sick. Despite the situation he reclines in his seat with a smug look, watching the guards in the room.
"You sure?" Dolohov asks. "You don't have to you know."
"I need to know."
With a nod, Dolohov leads the way into the small room dismissing the guards, Bella following close behind. The door shuts with a click, a smile spreading on the wizard's face. She resists the urge to punch him, resists the urge to crucio him into oblivion.
"Bella, darling," He smiles. "You look wonderful, can you tell these fools there's been a mistake."
"No mistake," Dolohov comments dropping the mask on the table. "You found torturing a civilian in broad daylight."
"Yes, simple misunderstanding, I'm sure if you speak to them, they will tell you the same."
"Rod," Bella states calmly leaning against the wall. "You think they won't press charges?"
"Bella, darling. Of course, they won't."
"Oh, he thinks Rabastian is going to clean up his mess," Bella chuckles looking to Dolohov. "He thinks Rab and Barty are going to do his dirty work like always."
"That would be impressive," Dolohov chuckles. "Oh, wait, no. They're both down the corridor."
The smile slips, slightly, before Rod reinforces it. Clicking his neck he leans back into his chair.
"Oh, yes, he also thinks the victim can be reached by his other cronies, except they won't find him. Do you know why?" Bella questions.
"Why?" He asks.
"Because I know we have a mole." She flicks flint from her shoulder. "I also know who it is."
She feels Dolohov's eyes on her, the confusion.
"I don't know what you're on about," Rod replies shrugging his shoulders.
"You were found in this mask torturing a civilian, using an unforgivable," Dolohov states throwing the mask down on the table. "That's a ticket to Azkaban."
"That's a kiss." Bella sings.
"What?" Rod snaps turning his attention to Bella. "Since when?"
"Since we were put under a curfew. Lockdown equals a State of emergency. Which means the rules have changed. Unless you want to clarify anything for us? Maybe we could have a chat, reduce the sentence to maybe just life?"
"You fucking wish."
"You think, Rab or Barty aren't going to take this offer? Little Rab? I can go down to his room and tell him you sang like a little bitch. Do you think your brother won't just tell us everything? Maybe I should?"
"I think you should," Dolohov suggests.
"Yeah, I think so too."
"Go ahead." Rod shrugs.
"I look forward to it." Bella smiles. "Before I do though, you were wearing this mask."
She throws the mask onto the table, the half moon staring up at Rod. A smile on his face as he stares at the mask.
"When they arrested you, you had this on."
"So?"
"This isn't your mask," Bella replies.
"You sure about that?" He smiles. "I did enjoy our little duel."
"I'm sure you did," Bella answers. "But I've duelled you, you have as much talent as the first year."
"Fuck you."
"No ta," Bella replies nodding to Dolohov.
"Get your hands off me," Rod snaps.
Forcing Rod onto his feet, Dolohov slams him down onto the table. Holding him still as Bella pulls the wizard's shirt up.
"The fuck you doing!" Rod snaps squirming. "Get your hands off me."
No marks on the wizard's back, she draws her wand watching Rod shiver at the sight of it. She casts numerous spells, checking for any charms nothing. She was almost certain it wasn't Rod she duelled that night, but this just confirmed it.
Releasing Rod, Dolohov shoves the wizard back into his chair. Grabbing the mask, Bella turns her attention back to Rod.
"Well, where are they?" Bella demands.
"That's what you want to know?" Rod is the incredulous reply.
"Yes," Bella answers simply. "Where and who are they?"
"Dead," Biting his lip he stares at the mask. "They're dead."
"Dead?"
"Don't believe me? Give me a map, I'll find you where to find them."
"Who were they?"
"Don't know, never gave us a name."
"How did they die?"
"They were injured after the fire. Too injured, it would have drawn too much attention to taking them anywhere."
"So, you killed them?"
"Put them out of their misery, if you would."
"Rodulphus Lestrange, you are being charged, with arson, blackmail, the use of unforgivable curses and murder. I advise you to speak to a lawyer."
Grabbing the mask, Bella leads the way to the door, she will speak to Rabastian next.
"She's lucky, you know," Rod states calmly. "Your little dike of a friend."
Turning, Bella studies the calm wizard, the anger in his eyes.
"The day I heard you made friends with not just a mudblood but a dike of all things. I thought you'd lost your mind. Fucked in the head. Mind you, she is a fine little thing, I watched her apartment for a while. Disappointed she never turned up, turns out she's in Australia. Was that your doing? Very wise, I was so hoping to get my hands on her. She had it coming."
"Why? What did she ever do to you?"
"She didn't tell you?" He asks. "Let's just say she's a persuasive creature. I would never have signed our divorce papers, then again Unspeakable have some shifty tricks. If she weren't so filthy I would have enjoyed fucking her. I heard she likes both. I like to imagine her screaming, and begging. I can wait a little longer."
A hand guides her from the room, before Bella crucio the wizard until he becomes a mindless tool. Dolohov pushes her out of the room before she even has a chance to respond.
"No, Bella, no. As much as I want to curse the bastard, we need him." Dolohov instructs.
Wand in hand Bella stares at the door, only Dolohov standing between her and Rod.
"Please, Bella, just leave it. For now."
"I want him transferred to Azkaban straight away." Bella orders. "Do you understand?"
"I'll do it myself."
"Good,"
The whiskey is doing nothing to help her stomach settle. Rod arrived at Azkaban followed by his brother and Barty until their day of court. Hatred it's burning beneath her skin, she wants to wrap her hands around his throat.
Absently, she traces her throat, and can still feel the press of the boot. Crushing her throat. Why didn't they kill me? The thought has been plaguing her for days, the idea that she lay submissive at the feet of another.
The knock at her door springs her to her feet, it's late as she swings the door open. Tom standing in front of her, tired, of the political headache the arrests would have caused.
"I received your letter," Tom states moving into the warmth. "I'm sorry."
"I knew he was a prick, I just didn't expect this." Bella fumes. '
"Have you thought about what you're going to say?"
"To say?" Bella repeats.
"To the press, they're going to ask many questions, Bella, you should think…"
"Tom, I don't give a shit." Bella interrupts. "I didn't bring you here to discuss political shit."
"Of course," He nods.
Stepping forward he pulls her into a hug, closing her eyes she rests her head on his chest. Can feel the moment he checks his watch, sighing she pushes from his embrace.
"You should go," Bella states. "I'm sure you have a lot to sort out."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course, thank you for stopping by."
"I will see you in the morning." He promises.
Forcing a smile, she watches him leave. Smash, her glass of whiskey hits the wall as a scream of anger leaving her lips. A groan leaves her lips as a portrait stirs awake shouting abuse. It causes a barrage of them to stir. Grabbing her cloak she apparates away.
It's two am she realises this as she steps into Hermione's flat. Ginny left a few weeks back, Bella promising to feed Crooks. Her elf, ensuring Crooks is fed regularly, Bella just comes for comfort. At least here, she might get some sleep, her home feeling foreign as the days continue.
Click. She stops, handle in hand, she listens carefully, no sign of Crooks. He can hear movement in the bedroom, the movement too heavy to be Crooks. Drawing her wand, her skin crawls, has Rod escaped? Come looking for Hermione? Perhaps Ginny forgot something and returned.
"Shit!"
"Fuck!"
Her spell collides harmlessly with the wall as the figure jumps a mile dropping clothes all over the floor. Clutching their chest terrified honey brown eyes stare back at Bella. Purring from Crooks as he comes trotting into the living room prowling between the witch's legs.
"Bella!"
Hmph. The force knocks her backwards, she nearly drops her wand as the body collides with her. A warmth, the smell of vanilla, freshly showered Bella sinks into the heat of the witch in her arms.
"Hermione." She whispers the name.