Fall into Darkness Chapter 10: Abduction, a harry potter fanfic

Fall into Darkness

Chapter 10: Abduction

It was beyond strange so see the place she had only seen the inside of from the outside. Five years ago she had been brought here, and, well, she hadn't exactly been lucid enough to be aware of much of anything at the time. The prison was a three-story white building with a red shingled roof, its yard surrounded with a chainlink fence and the plot surrounded by a pine forest. With Sweden being deep in winter times, the entire landscape was covered in a white blanket.

Bellatrix, dressed in a long black winter coat with curly black hair spilling out from under a hat and earmuffs, was almost afraid too look around for fear of being sucked into a wide open world. When she had been broken out of Azkaban, an open world seemed so inviting. Of course, Azkaban had been a place she actually wanted to leave at the time, in stark contrast to now.

Next to her stood Hermione, in a grey winter coat and a clashing red beanie on top of her brown-haired head. The beanie covered the top of her ears. The cold air caused her cheek to turn reddish. Honestly, she looked rather beautiful.

"Nervous?" asked Hermione.

"Absolutely not," lied Bellatrix.

"We'll be spending the weekend in Stockholm," said Hermione. "This will be the first of hopefully many such weekends. All of this is to encourage re-socialisation to eventually prove your ability to return to society to live a normal life. There are certain steps you have to take, certain milestones you need to pass. But that's all for the future. For now, simply concern yourself with having a good time."

Bellatrix peered around her. "Bit hard to do that knowing that I'm being shadowed. Those aurors you have on standby are very good, Hermione. I certainly can't spot them."

Hermione smiled. "You can't spot them because they aren't there. It's just me and you. Well, and a small curse that will make you violently nauseous if the two of us are separated from each other more than ten meters, so keep that in mind."

"Ah!" Bellatrix chuckled, thinking of the prison doctor and her check-up right before leaving with Hermione. "So that's what Vilgot was doing back at the prison. The check-up was an excuse to put a curse on me."

Hermione nodded. "Full disclosure, Bellatrix. This is all about trust."

Bellatrix crossed her arms. "Yet you do not trust me enough to do this without a curse. You've known me for years now, Hermione, and you know I always keep my word. If I promise you I won't run away, I won't. Besides, I like prison, remember?"

"It's a demand from the Program," shrugged Hermione. "It's all I could talk them down to. They insisted on some measure of security."

"You do realize that I could kidnap you at knifepoint, right?" Bellatrix smirked. "That way I could run away and never trigger the curse."

Hermione chuckled. "I'm trusting you that you won't."

Bellatrix winked at her. "Tall order, that. I would love to steal you away."

A flirt, pure and simple. As there had been many recently. Hermione, however, didn't seem impressed or simply didn't get the hint. "Please, please, do take this seriously, Bellatrix. You have no idea how hard I had to fight to give you this chance. There's still a lot of doubters, even in the Program. A lot is riding on this weekend."

The dark witch turned and saw the younger witch regard her with pleading eyes. In that moment, she looked so very tired. Hermione didn't share all that much about the details of her work for the Program and perhaps that was for the best. But she had no doubt that she had an ardent defender in Hermione. Perhaps that was far more than she deserved.

"Fine," she sighed. "Let's go see that hive of muggle scum and villainy."

A broad smile appeared on Hermione's face. "I'm certain you'll be pleasantly surprised by Stockholm."

And, honestly, Bellatrix was. The city itself was quite nice. She and Hermione took a portkey to the middle of the city. Back in the day, Bellatrix had spent plenty of time slumming it in Manchester City and she found Stockholm to be very different. Cleaner for one, and more… spread out. It was hard to grasp at first, but the roads were broader and the city felt smaller, more village-like in places. Leafier too. And far less people on the street. Still, one muggle was one too many and she was still very skittish around strangers.

As they walked the streets together, Bellatrix had the overwhelming urge to cross the road whenever she saw a muggle approach. Most of the time she fought that urge but when she saw a small group of school-kids clustered together, she moved to cross the road.

"No, no," Hermione said firmly and hooked her arm around herself, forcing her back onto the sidewalk. "You almost ended up underneath a van last time, remember?"

Bellatrix almost didn't mind the muggles when walking arm-in-arm with Hermione. The two chatted along the way as they stopped for a bite to eat at the cafe. Their next destination was the Museum of Natural History. In the recent past, Bellatrix had expressed some interest in fossils and dinosaurs and admittedly marvelled at the skeletons the museum had on display. In fact, she promised herself that when she would be able to own her home again, if ever, she would use some of her wealth to buy a T-rex skeleton and put it right in the entrance hall for all visitors to marvel at.

From the museum, they crossed the bridge to Haga Park. The snow was thicker here, cracking underneath her boots as they made their way through the quiet park. No muggles near, just the two of them. She turned to Hermione, her cheeks still rosy red from the cold.

"You're making mental notes about my behaviour, aren't you?" asked Bellatrix.

"It's my work," said Hermione. "But mostly, I want you to have a good time. You were on your best behaviour at the museum. Those dinosaurs must have impressed you."

"Even though I wanted to hex those loud and annoying kids?"

"Are you joking?! Even I wanted to hex those bloody kids!" Hermione shook her head. "Fault of the parents, really. Lack of proper parenting skills. I can't believe that one girl tried to climb the brontosaurus. You know, ever since I've been taking psychology courses and behavioural studies, there's a lot of things I've been noticing…"

A wicked idea crossed Bellatrix' mind when she saw a mound of snow, the remnants of some other children building the nearby snowman. While Hermione was ranting about poorly behaved children and their clueless parents, Bellatrix rolled up the snow into a ball, turned around and flung it right towards Hermione.

The moment it hit Hermione in the chest mid-sentence, a look of sheer disbelief crossed the girl's gentle features. Once she realized what was going on, a glare followed. The gauntlet had been thrown. The challenge would be met.

Hermione immediately went to work on gathering snow. Unfortunately, that also made her a prime target. The girl yelped as Bellatrix' second snowball hit her right in the bum.

Retaliation was swift and merciless. Bellatrix was quick and nimble, but was only able to dodge so many snowballs. Eventually, she was hit on her back in between the shoulder blades, immediately followed up by one to the back of the head. Bellatrix tossed another ball, clipping Hermione against the leg. Merlin, how she loved it every time Hermione released a girlish scream followed by joyous laughter with every hit.

If only this moment could last forever.

She'd been looking forward to Hermione's visits every day for years. Now she had her all to herself. And Bellatrix wanted more.

And that was when a snowball hit her right in the face.

Bellatrix slowly wiped away the cold wet snow and glared at a giggling Hermione. With a grin, Bellatrix shot forward and tackled Hermione to the ground. Both women landed in a snow drift, laughing as they did so. Bellatrix found herself lain on top of Hermione, staring down upon her. It took her a moment to realize that this situation mirrored the one they had been over five years ago. She could see in her eyes that Hermione felt it too. Yet the both of them felt that this was very different. A blush came to Hermione's cheeks and Bellatrix felt her own cheeks grow warmer. All of this, all she had done, all the effort she had put in, all her creative endeavours, hell, even all the working out… she had all done for Hermione's sake.

While she gazed in those soulful brown eyes, every fibre of her being was screaming for her to lean down kiss her. The thing she had wanted to do for a whole year.

Hermione smiled. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. That was the whole point of this weekend furlough."

Coward.

Bellatrix sighed as she got up and offered Hermione a hand.

"I thought it was all about that re-socialisation lark," Bellatrix shrugged,

"Secondary," smiled Hermione. "Re-socialisation is pointless if you don't enjoy yourself while doing it. Come on, it's about to get dark and we should go home. My apartment is close to the park. "

"Your… apartment?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow.

Hermione turned around and gave her an encouraging smile. "Of course. Where else would you spend the night? You can't be ten meters away from me or you'd get violently ill, remember?"

In that very moment, Bellatrix thanked the heavens for whatever Ministry rule-monger had insisted on putting that curse on her for security's sake.

Hermione's apartment was on the third floor of a Swedish building which was a converted warehouse. It was a lovely attic apartment, basically one long room divided up by two brick-stone arches underneath a sloping roof on one side. A small staircase led to the loft where Hermione had her bedroom. On the one end of the room was an office space where Hermione did all her work and which was neatly organised. Above the desk hung her diploma from the University of London, Department of Psychology. A masters degree, cum laude of course. Bellatrix remembered how how over the moon Hermione had been: she had even surprised Hermione by baking a cake.

"What's that thing on your desk?" asked Bellatrix, pointing to a set of odd devices after noticing the distinct lack of parchment and quill.

"That is a computer and printer setup," said Hermione. "Would you believe the Ministry still has us using quills and parchment? This setup has effectively cut my working hours in half. Not that my superiors would show an interest, oh no. They still want printed copies of all my reports, but mark my words, Bellatrix, the future will be digital. Even for the Ministry."

"Alright," frowned Bellatrix, not understanding even half of what Hermione had said… but at least she always sounded cute when she was huffy.

There was a small bathroom near the entrance, but what stood out the most was that every bit of free wallspace had been taken up bookcases. Bookcases that were piling out. And whatever books did not fit in a case, had been put in a box. And there were many, many boxes. Hermione had her leisure space on a comfy looking brown sofa, near what seemed to be a fake fireplace cut into the wall. The other side of the room, opposite to the office space, was taken up by a small but well-suited kitchen.

"I can work with this," said Bellatrix.

"And that is the grand tour. Oh, your luggage has been delivered."

Bellatrix' luggage, which consisted of a clean set of clothes, nightwear, her guitar and her diary, were quickly claimed. The first half an hour was spent sitting cross-legged on the sofa playing the guitar for Hermione while the girl listened. When Bellatrix was done with her serenade, she put the guitar to her side and turned to Hermione. "So, did you enjoy our first date?" winked Bellatrix.

"Is this a date?"

"The entire day has been a date," Bellatrix chuckled. "So… where I do I sleep tonight?"

"You're already sat on your bed," said Hermione.

"What bed?" frowned Bellatrix. "This is a bloody sofa."

"It folds out," said Hermione. "No really, it's quite comfortable."

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes and gestured to the loft. "I'd rather be in the bedroom."

Hermione followed her gaze. "Oh, you want the bed? It's no problem. I'd be happy to sleep on the fold-out."

Bellatrix's mouth opened and closed as if she was a fish on dry land. "Honestly," Bellatrix muttered. "You're the hardest woman I've ever wooed. Back in the Seventies I only had to snap my fingers and birds would come flying at me! Am I losing my touch?"

"I beg your pardon?" she asked quizically.

Bellatrix threw up her arms. "Still she doesn't get it. I want to be in the bedroom."

"I thought we already decided you can take the bed and I'll sleep on the fold-out."

"Argh! I also want you to be in the bedroom!" Bellatrix let out a grunt of frustration, but then simply sighed and decided it was time for the nuclear option. It was time to open her diary. "Hermione, I… I would like to read you a story I've been working on for the past months. I've been writing and rewriting it until I felt it was perfect."

Hermione smiled and sat down for it. "I don't think you've ever read me anything from your diary before. This must be a special story."

"It's just for you…" Bellatrix whispered as she leafed through the well-worn, well-loved leather-bound diary. "I call it, 'The Angry Girl in the Woods'."

Hermione cocked her head sideways, looking at her intently.

"Once upon a time, there was a girl in the woods. Now this girl was always angry. Angry at just about anything and everything. Everybody was scared of the angry girl and that was just the way the angry girl liked it. Because, deep down, the angry girl was scared of everything too."

Hermione shifted a little on the sofa.

"So, this angry girl lived in a dark forest and had convinced herself that she wanted nothing to do with anything outside of the forest. And she lashed out against anyone who got near her. But, one day, a kind-hearted girl came to the woods. Of course, the angry girl didn't like that one bit. She screamed and she threatened and said she wanted to do horrible things to the kind-hearted girl. But the kind-hearted girl just… kept coming. Every single day. And every single day the angry girl screamed and threatened. But then… something changed. The angry girl started listening to the kind-hearted girl. She didn't even know why. It was just… something that happened. The angry girl and the kind-hearted girl talked more and longer. Every single day. So, the angry girl started to look forward to the kind-hearted girl's visits and liked to think the kind-hearted girl did as well. The talked and they became friends. Shared jokes. Teased. Challenged each other. And suddenly, the angry girl wasn't so angry anymore."

Hermione stared at her, eyes brimming with uncertainly and breath quickening.

"The angry girl… didn't want to be in the forest anymore. Because…" Bellatrix felt her eyes brimming with tears while her voice started cracking. Merlin, this was getting hard to do. "Because… the kind-hearted girl was the one person who ever believed that the angry girl could be different. And that's… that's why the angry girl fell deeply, deeply in love with the kind-hearted girl. Though the angry girl was still so scared to leave the forest, she… she wanted to leave because… because she wanted to spend the rest of her life with the kind-hearted girl who meant so much to her."

With a quivering lip, Hermione released her own tears. Just as Bellatrix reached over to wipe them away from her cheeks, Hermione leaned forward and threw her arms around her while tilting her head and pressing her lips on hers. Their first ever kiss was just as sweet and intense as she imagined it. Bellatrix revelled in the softness of her lips, the taste of Hermione tongue and the warmth of her body pressing against hers. It was then that Bellatrix realized it: Hermione had had exactly the same desires and feelings for some time now.

Ironic.

She opened her eyes and saw a tearful Hermione smiling at her. The feeling of Hermione's hands running through her curly mane only wanted to make her kiss her again. But Hermione's next words would make her heart skip a beat.

"The kind-hearted girl…" said Hermione with an uncertain, blushing slightly as intense brown eyes met intense dark eyes. "has been denying her own feelings for far too long. The kind-hearted girl… would very much like for the angry girl to take her to bed tonight."

A grin formed. Her Hermione deserved the best in life. The best cooking, the best home, the best music, the best clothes, the best books and, of course, the best lover. And Bellatrix couldn't think of anyone more qualified than herself.

Tonight her Hermione would be loved like she had never been loved before. Bellatrix would make certain of that.

Another kiss. Then…

Light. Blinding light. Hermione… Hermione changed.

She desperately tried to hold on to Hermione, but her form melted away. It was… hard to think. She was losing control, she was losing self. And instead of Hermione, the man from the police station stood in front of her. What was his name? Ah, yes. Dr. Hartman. He now stood in her place. She wanted to curse him, but her arms were like putty. He smiled. It was a reassuring smile and she hated him even more for it. "I had to give you a sedative. Don't fight it. You went through another rough period. Right now it's very important that you stay calm. We don't want another episode. You're a patient at my clinic, have been for some time now. Don't you remember?"

She didn't remember.

"You're suffering from a multitude of instances of undifferentiated schizophrenia."

Bellatrix couldn't think. She couldn't focus.

"Listen to me. Your name is Trixie White. You are not British. You are not a witch. You are a waitress from Kansas. You've been a patient of my clinic for almost five years. Your parents forced you through years of gay-conversion therapy which left its marks on you. What you think is true is an elaborately constructed fantasy you created for yourself to cope. Nobody blames you for this."

Fantasy? Not a witch?

"Your name is Trixie White. Remember, Trixie. Remember the truth."

BOLLOCKS TO THAT! MY NAME IS BELLATRIX BLACK

A prick in her arm. And soon it became even harder to think.

"There is no Hermione, Trixie. There never was," said Hartman with a smile that was reassuring. "You've just been going through a rough period. But on the whole, you've made great progress. It's time to come to terms with reality again."

No. No. NO! SHE IS REAL!

Another prick. She felt… far way. As if her brain wasn't in her skull. Hazy. Difficult to… focus… Who… what… Hermione?

Your name is Trixie White. You are not British. You are not a witch. You are a waitress from Kansas. You've been a patient of my clinic for almost five years. Your parents forced you through years of gay-conversion therapy which left its marks on you. What you think is true is an elaborately constructed fantasy you created for yourself to cope. There is no Hermione, Trixie. There never was. You've just been going through a rough period. But on the whole, you've made great progress. It's time to come to terms with reality again."

No. No… My name… my name is Bellat… Bellatr…Trix…

I… I am… Black… Hermione… real…

I… I…

Hard… to… think…

The darkness? Are you the darkness?

I… It's can't… can't be… I am Bellatrix. Am…. Am I? Am I Bellatrix?

Hermione… Why are you slipping away from me?

It's… real…

Is it? Real?

I… I don't…

I… I am…

I am… Trixie… White…

I am Trixie White.