Note: Fall into Darkness will be going on a short hiatus while I'm off on holiday. Expect a new chapter update in three weeks from now. Please excuse the delay.
Fall into Darkness
Chapter 13: Absconding
The first thing she did was see if nurse Birch was still standing out the door. He was not.
Lucky for him. Because the next thing she did was alter the flow of her magic for a simple light cantrip. The magic ebbed and flowed effortlessly through her body. She was herself again. She was s witch again.
And Hartman was going to suffer.
The recovered the backpack from underneath her bed and tossed the leather bound book and the writing gear into it. Perhaps it would be useful later. The coffee sweeteners followed the same fate as leaving it here would risk depriving the Anderson brothers of one of their escape routes from this magic-forsaken place. She was ready to leave this place and continue her search for Hermione, after making sure she had doled out some vengeance here and there on the way out, of course.
More lightning. That one sounded close. The storm raging outside seemed to converge on the lodge.
When she stepped into the corridor, nurse Birch was no longer in sight. She did, however, hear some ruckus coming from downstairs, from the lounge. When she crept down the stairs, she saw the Anderson brothers and nurse Sinclair… with nurse Birch apparently having gone into hiding in the storage closet.
"Everyone calm down!" shouted nurse Sinclair.
"Where the hell did Tor get a hammer?!" sounded the muffled voice from Birch coming from the other side of the door.
Lightning flashed behind the windows of Cauldron Lake Lodge. Tor Anderson laughed and held the steel hammer above his head. Nurse Sinclair was still trying to calm him down without success. Tor grinned madly and shouted. "My hammer's up! Here's a friendly poke from Mjollnir, wench!" He brought the hammer down with all his might on Sinclair's head, causing her to fall down to the ground like a sack of potatoes. "We're on a comeback tour, baby!".
Though the nurse was likely either dead or severely brain-damaged, Bellatrix couldn't help but smile. Tor Anderson then turned his attention to the man behind the door. "Come on Birch, it's time to pay the piper."
"We were on the road, Birch!" Odin added. "You don't think we haven't dealt with any little pussy-ass bitches like you before?!"
Bellatrix let out a cackle just as more lightning flashed through the lodge. Coming down the stairs, she applauded in appreciation. "You've just reminded me why I am one of your biggest fans."
Odin turned around and chuckled. "Welcome back, kid. Feeling better?"
"We certainly are," Tor laughed. "I hope this storm wipes this place off the face of the earth."
Odin picked up a keyring from next to the fallen nurse and tossed it to Bellatrix. "There you go. Exit through the staff wing. Your stuff's all there. Don't leave too quickly, though. Make sure you open all the doors."
Bellatrix nodded and pocketed the keys.
"And don't worry about the others. We'll get them out safely," Odin said.
While the brothers went back to taunting Birch behind the door, Bellatrix made her way into the staff wing. So far, she stood in a small corridor with a series of doors, one of which was open. The open door first, then, and Bellatrix found herself in the staff conference lounge. A large table with chairs stood in the middle and a desk with all manner of things cluttered upon it stood next to the wall. A book-case lined the back wall while three large windows offered a limited view of the storm outside. More notable were a series of paintings. There were dozens of them, all set against the wall, lain on the table or stacked on top of each other in the corner.
Her first course of business was to empty the storage locker to reclaim her clothes. Bellatrix cast aside Trixie White along with that ridiculous white smock and changed into her black trousers, black shirt and long black leather coat. She pulled her necklace over her head and donned her backpack to complete her transformation back into her proper self.
"Better in Black," Bellatrix muttered to herself.
Her eye fell upon a muggle machine and a bunch of tapes. It was a machine she recognized since Hermione had started to use one after the two of them had become more comfortable with each other and Bellatrix had started to trust her enough to bring muggle machinery into her cell. Like Hermione, Hartman liked to record sessions with his patients and kept meticulous records. She took hold of the small tape-recorder and pressed the play button… before realising she needed to rewind the tape a bit first. After doing so, she tried again only to hear Hartman's voice from the tinny speaker.
"Rudolf Lane was completely blocked and I was about to discard him as useless. But once Black arrived at Bright Falls, something changed in him. He's been producing extraordinary work, increasingly dark pieces both thematically and chromatically. His connection to the lake is clearly present. Unfortunately he doesn't respond to direction at all. I've come to the conclusion that Lane is not so much a creator, but an illustrator. A recorder of sorts. I hadn't considered the existence of such a role before, let alone the implications. The paintings have been informative, certainly. Lane is easily controlled and useful. I wish I could say the same about Black. It's frustrating that the best subjects are always so difficult to deal with. But with the right cocktail of medication and constant suggestion, that should cease to be a problem soon enough."
There was no malice in his voice. He talked about breaking her will with a dispassion a scientist would have for his lab-rats. For some reason, that even made her even angrier.
It did draw her attention to the paintings, however, especially since she herself was a subject in each and every one of them. Herself in the ferry, herself diving after Hermione, herself at Elden Woods. Herself getting her leg trapped while Mott ran. Herself trekking through the countryside towards the coal-mine with Max next to her. Herself torturing Mott at Look-out Point. Herself falling into the water of the Lake.
So, that's why there was a boat on the lake that night. Hartman had effectively been keeping taps on her through Lane's clairvoyant paintings.
Another painting drew her eye. This one… didn't fit among the others. It was a painting with familiar surroundings. Now almost twelve years ago, it took her a few moments to recognize the battle of Hogwarts. It was a painting of her standing over the lifeless body of her niece Nymphadora with a maniacal grin on her face.
Bellatrix frowned. All the paintings she had seen had been a depiction of a recent real-life event, but this was neither recent not truthful. It was something which had never happened.
Apparently Lane agreed, since there were some violent black brush-strokes across the canvas.
Well, no time to dwell on this. Hartman would soon have bigger concerns than paintings in his office. Back to the tapes, she sorted through them. All were meticulously labelled and she was not surprised to see recordings of phonecalls with Hermione. Another interesting tape was labelled 'Nightingale'. Wasn't that that obnoxious agent who'd been chasing her for some unfathomable reason?
Bellatrix didn't have time to listen to them now, but instead scooped the entire tray and the recorder into her backpack for later and left the conference room. She was about to head out the door until she remembered Odin mentioning she shouldn't leave too quickly. So far Odin had been cryptic, but truthful to his word. She looked for the key on the ring and it took a few tries until she found the right one. She pushed the door open, wondering what more types of horrible revelations would lay beyond.
She entered a padded 'cool out room' with a single bed inside. More concerning, there was someone on the bed. Someone struggling against an old-fashioned straight-jacket and a muffling mask.
Someone who was her niece and started to struggle even more when she saw who had walked through the door.
"Oh thank fucking Merlin for that," Nymphadora exclaimed when released from the mask. "I've been here for bugger knows how long!"
Bellatrix started working on the straps while Nymphadora continued ranting. "I had to have my fucking stomach pumped! Do you know just how uncomfortable that is? My entire chest hurt for two days!"
"Two days?! How long have I been missing?" Bellatrix asked.
"Three days," said Nymphadora. "Been looking for you just as long. Bright Falls police force is in shambles. There's only the two of them left now so they aren't much help. Flashing the badge did the trick to silence nasty questions. Interpol cover-story and all that."
"Sure," shrugged Bellatrix. "I watched all the deputies die in the woods to… whatever it is."
"Figured that," said Nymphadora. "Also figured you'd go the coal-mine on your own, so I followed the trail of destruction you and that thing left behind. I saw the police cars thrown about. And the destroyed cafe. Trail went cold after that. Until I figured I'd poke around places around Cauldron Lake."
Now freed, Nymphadora rubbed her arms and stretched her legs.
"How'd you get caught?" asked Bellatrix.
"Got careless," Nymphadora adjusted her jacket. "Searched around the place and someone hit me over the back of the head. Don't know how long I've been here. Don't know how they even knew I was here."
Thinking back to the paintings, Bellatrix had a fair idea. "Where's the dog? He should be around somewhere," asked Bellatrix.
"Max?" said her niece. "He was with you?
"Did you come by car?" asked Bellatrix.
"Yeah. Should still be parked along the side of the road," replied Nymphadora. "I'll go get it."
Just as they were about to leave, lightning stuck outside and a dark silhouette stood in the doorframe. Hartman. Bloody Hartman stood in the doorframe wearing that smug disgusting smile of his. Bellatrix wanted to kill him right then and there.
"Trixie, please," he started. "Don't believe this enabler. You won't want to slide back into the fantasy you…"
Hartman never got the chance to finish the sentence. Hartman was raised from the ground by an invisible force clamped around his neck. Bellatrix stood in front of him, holding out her hand while making a grasping motion. The dark witch pumped her arm back in forth, slamming him into the padded wall with enough force to definitely hurt.
"Lie to me again and I swear I won't need a wand to kill you," Bellatrix hissed.
Nymphadora grinned and crossed her arms. "If you're counting on me to save you, let me assure you I ain't seein' nothin'."
Bellatrix narrowed her eyes and titled her head forward. "You tried to strip me off my identity and turn me into a compliant sheep! If I were you, I'd consider the next words out of your mouth very, very carefully."
"Well… it was worth a shot," he managed to struggle out of his mouth.
With a disgusted grunt, Bellatrix released him and let him fall to the ground. "Clearly you know more about what's going on. That's the only reason I haven't snapped your neck right now," Bellatrix hissed.
"Let's… let's work together on this," he rubbed his aching throat.
"Nymphadora? Go get the car."
Nymphadora gave her a questioning look. It was obvious to her niece that she was going to harm or kill Hartman and was torn between duty and necessity. Eventually, pragmatism won out and she headed out the door after taking the keyring from her. It left Hartman alone with her. At her mercy.
"This is a mistake," he tried. "Together we can create something absolutely wonderful! With your ability, your magic, your creativity and my direction! You could change the world. For the better."
Bellatrix threw her head back and let out a cackle from the depths of her lungs. "You're crazier than I am!"
"Am I?!" Hartman scrambled to his feet. "Your niece was dead! By your hand! And yet she stood here next to you in this very office. That was your doing! Your will! Your direction!"
Bellatrix snorted through her nose. "What? What are you talking about?! I never... She wasn't even in England at the time of the second war! She was here in the states on a training course with MACUSA. She never even learned about the war until the Ministry had already been taken over. Andromeda kept it from her to protect her! That painting in the office was a lie!"
Hartman shook his head. "No. All of that was a fiction you created. A fiction you wanted to be true. Lane saw it. In his head. You wanted things to be different, so you wrote a correction. With one stroke of your pen, her death was erased. Some collateral damage happened in the process, of course. A marriage never took place. A son was never born. A different life was led. But regardless of that all, you imposed your will on reality. Your niece lives as a result of your indomitable will!"
Bellatrix closed her eyes. Was this man again trying to manipulate her? But the paintings, Lane's clairvoyance, were hard to deny. "I… I did that?" Bellatrix questioned.
Hartman, a mad passion in his eyes, dared to step forward. "Yes! Think of what you can do! Think about what you can possess if you could control the power of Cauldron Lake."
Bellatrix chuckled. "Ah, so that's what you've been after. Me. The Andersons. Lane. Wendy… all tools to you, right?"
"I am no creator, Bellatrix. And, honestly, I don't want to be. Look around you. So many creators are damaged, broken people. No, it's enough for me to maintain creative control. A producer, of a sort. I wasn't lying when I said you have a rare and powerful creative drive. You have an inherent creativity, a strong will and focus bordering on the obsessive. Your magical prowess enhances your link to the reality-altering power beneath the lake. All of the people here are wizards. The lake's reality-altering powers are channelled through your own. As long as you have the vision, the creative powers to guide them."
Bellatrix put a finger to her lip. "So... I control the powers of the thing beneath the lake. And you control me. Is that it?"
A glint of hope appeared in Hartman's eyes. "Yes! YES! Precisely! Now you are starting to understand!"
The wind howled across the lodge as it had before, but the pitch of the howl suddenly change. A familiar yet alien shriek made the lodge shake on its foundations as tendrils of living darkness crawled out from the dark corners of the room reaching out for the both of them. The lights in the lodge flickered and went out. And with that, the Dark Presence manifested fully. Hartman whipped around at the shades of darkness forming in the corners of the padded room. "One fatal flaw to your plan, Hartman," Bellatrix smirked. "I'm not actually the one in control here."
That said, she kicked the man to the ground and whipped around. She was out the room and into the corridor. After turning around, she slammed the door shut right in his smug face. Hartman pleaded for her to open the door as darkness encroached. True to form, the bastard actually thought she would obey. But Bellatrix had no sympathy left. No guilt either, not for him. She grinned, showed him the key through the small square window in the door and let it drop to the ground. She took a moment to savour the scream. A smile formed on her face. It was all that she had time for. The Dark Presence was inside the lodge with her.
Bellatrix still walked away with a wicked grin. "Talk your way out of that one, you bastard."
The entire lodge shook. The darkness was using the storm. Or maybe it was the storm. It wanted her. That much was clear. And it was everywhere, seeping in from under the doors of the corridor, hissing at the single remaining light above until that one too went out.
Bellatrix ran into the lounge just as the corridor was overwhelmed by blackness. Even here it was pushing the light away. The darkness was getting stronger and bolder by the minute. Still, she found the rooms and the lounge empty. If she'd hazard a guess, Odin had been true to his word and brought the others all to safety. Though it was not within her nature to garner sympathy, these poor wizards had suffered long enough at Hartman's whims and she hoped they would have something better to look forward to now.
Sinclair still say on the ground and if Birch's panicked screams from the locked staff closet were any indication, the Anderson brothers hadn't bothered to rescue the nurses. Not that she could blame them and, honestly, she was not going to bother either. Instead, she made her way to the front doors of the clinic. Once there, she stood her ground, let the magic flow and blasted the two doors straight from their hinges.
Outside, the storm and rain whipped around her. She fought to keep standing against the blasts of the wind, rain and cold, shielding her face as she made her way to the front gate beyond the fountain. A gate that was closed.
Beyond the gate stood a running car. Nymphadora had two hands around the bars and pulled on it with a frustrated motion. Next to her, sounded a happy bark. A happy bark which put a smile on her face. Max was still around.
"Why is that gate closed?!" Bellatrix yelled over the storm.
"It was open when I left!" Nymphadora called back.
"Use the keys!"
"It doesn't use keys!" Nymphadora retorted. "It must be opened from inside the lodge! It's magic proof too! Tried zapping it open and only zapped myself!"
Bellatrix turned around to see the Cauldron Lake Lodge engulfed in a wreath of darkness. It was behind the windows, the doors, under the roof, crawling over the walls. An alien scream shook the entire compound, causing both women to cringe and the dog to whine. The lodge looked much like a monstrous animal rearing up.
"Definitely not going back in there!" Bellatrix yelled over the storm.
"Delivery entrance! Through the garden! It's how I got in! I'll go around the back and unlock the gate!"
Bellatrix did remember where that was: she'd been there only earlier today. On the other side of the garden, through the hedge-maze and near the koi ponds. The dark witch ran towards the garden as the storm seemed to intensify and the living darkness in the house howled louder than the winds. She ran into the hedge maze, the water-laden ground squelching underneath her boots. A veritable curtain of rain was falling down upon her head, drenching her to the bone.
The hedge-maze itself was a very different place in the dead of night. Though relatively easy to navigate during the day, in the dark and in this weather it had become infinitely more claustrophobic. The tall hedges which made up the maze stood tall as they swayed against merciless winds, losing leaves and branches. The hedges undulated on either side of her, giving the impression of a walking through the living corridor.
Bellatrix cursed when she reached a dead end and tried to retrace her steps, only to have no clue what direction she had actually come from. Unfortunately, the hedges were far too tall for her to peek over, far to unstable to climb and far too wet to burn with a fire cantrip. It was then that she heard something close by, even over the raging storm above. A flash of lightning lit up the sky and, for a moment, she could see that she was not alone in this corridor of the maze. The light died down, but what she had seen had the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
Nurse Birch had apparently tried to escape his doom by hacking his way out the closet with a fireaxe, but it had been too late. Tendrils of darkness now crawled over his soulless husk as he dragged his axe through the maze. He had suffered the same fate as the other shadow-creatures she had encountered.
Well, she wouldn't mourn him. Bellatrix raised her hands allowing a ball of light to form between them. The ball of lightning was swiftly thrown across the undulating hedge corridor where it collided with the now ex-nurse. And that would be the end of it.
But it wasn't.
With no small amount of trepidation, Bellatrix watched as the tendrils of shadows recoiled and burned in the light. And then reformed around Birch's body.
Gritting her teeth, Bellatrix was at the ready. Instead of a ball, she focused a burning beam of lumos, aimed her hands and let him have it. The continuous beam burned all the darkness in its path. But yet Birch would not fall. More tendrils of darkness were pulled from the raging storm around them, the shadows among the hedge-maze and ever darker corners. Though she gave it her everything, the darkness replenished itself faster than she could burn it way.
The Dark Presence had, once again, changed its tactics.
And when the axe was raised and was readied to be brought down upon her head, Bellatrix thought it best to make herself scarce.
She turned around and frantically started running into the other direction. In the maze, there was little room to manoeuvre and being chased by an axe-wielding shadow-fiend was not helping. Of course, she turned around the corner and found herself at another dead end. Above her, the storm unleashed another bout of lightning, while the rain and wind showed no signs of stopping any time soon.
"Two pills in the evening and you'll be nice and calm. Two pills in the morning and you'll be nice and COLD!" sounded the distorted voice of nurse Birch, far closer than she would have liked. Just lovely.
Bellatrix dove back into another corridor, running a different direction. Left. Right. Right. Left.
She almost shrieked when she found herself in another dead end. What kind of arsehole decided on building a bloody hedge-maze in the garden of a mental hospital with fragile, easy to frighten and confuse patients?!
Hartman, of course. Exactly that kind of arsehole.
A glint of metal lit up at the next lightning strike. It was the only warning Bellatrix had in the darkness of an incoming swing of the axe. She yelped as she dove to one side, barely avoiding the swing as it flew over her head. She scrambled to all fours and found the opening she sought: the trunks of the hedges in this part seemed further apart. The dark witch immediately dove towards it, forced herself through the opening. The sharp branches cut through her clothes and her skin, but she managed to push herself through just as nurse Birch turned around for another swing. The axe landed in the dirt where her leg had been seconds ago.
Finding a moment's reprieve, Bellatrix got to her feet and ran into the maze again, hearing Birch's heavy footsteps and mumbling from the other side of the hedges.
The wind still whipped through her hair while the cold rain bit in her exposed skin. Her clothes were heavy with water and she was covered in muck. But for the moment, she had lost her shadowy pursuer.
Bellatrix burst out of the hedge-maze, relieved to have some breathing room. The gate was ahead and safety beyond.
The cold night combined with the heavy storm hadn't improved visibility one iota since leaving the lodge, but one fact was abundantly clear when she approached the small service delivery gate.
"Dora!" she shouted over the storm. "Why isn't that door open?!"
Her niece, now on her hands and knees just on the other side of the gate, looked up. She wasn't any dryer than she was, but as rivulets of water ran down her cheeks she could clearly see the frustration and embarrassment on her niece's face. "I dropped the key!" she shouted back.
"You dropped the…" Bellatrix couldn't help but facepalm. Worse yet, from the sounds coming from the hedge-mage, her shadowy pursuer had once again picked up her trail and was headed right towards her.
"Ah!" sounded Nymphadora. "Oh no, that's just a twig."
Bellatrix closed her eyes, grit her teeth and ran her hands through her wet curls. "I don't believe this. I don't fucking believe this. I'm going to be sliced to ribbons by a shadow-monster because my niece lacks the mental capacity to OPEN A SODDING DOOR!"
"It's not my fault!" Dora protested while her hands dug around the stones of the path. "The wind blew it out of my hands!"
Bellatrix balled her firsts. Behind her, the heavy footfalls sounded closer and closer. "You are such a bloody Hufflepuff!"
"Don't say that as if it's an insult!"
"It IS an insult, you muppet!"
"AH!"
"Oh, thank Merlin for that. Quick, open the door!"
"No, no, I found a quarter!"
"DORA!"
With grim expression, Bellatrix turned around. Lightning blasted through the sky again and, for a moment, she could see Birch emerging from the hedge-maze, axe in hand, before he disappeared into the curtain of darkness and rain again. With heavy foot-falls he got nearer and nearer.
"Dora," Bellatrix hissed. "Open the bloody door!"
"I'm looking, I'm looking!"
"LOOK HARDER!"
Bellatrix took a step backward, peering into the darkness, hoping to catch a glimpse.
"Merlin, what is that?!" sounded behind her just as the silhouette of the axe-wielding shadow-creature came into view.
Bellatrix didn't hesitate and focused another lumos, pouring her every will and anger into it. The force of the light staggered the creature, but did not harm it. Or stop it. The creature struggled against the light, but never stopped coming.
A snick sounded behind her. "Come on!" sounded the voice of Dora. Bellatrix didn't need to be told twice. She was right behind Dora as she made her way to the red lights shining through the curtain of rain, red lights belonging to the running car. Entering the car was an absolute relief. First of all, to be out of that goddamn rain and into the comfort of a warm car. Second of all, being greeted by an enthusiastic golden retriever on the back seat, worming himself in between the driver and passenger seat to lick her face. Next to her, Dora started fiddling with the steering wheel and started turning the car around.
Birch came through the gate just as Dora brought the car around. There was a wicked grin on the face of her niece as she started to pull a handle next to the steering wheel. "Surprise, motherfucker," chuckled Dora as she pulled the handle and brought the full force of the car's headlights to bear upon the creature. This time, the light overwhelmed Birch and melted him off the face of the Earth.
Bellatrix grinned and nodded at her niece. "I approve."
"Not bad for a Hufflepuff, eh?"
"I wouldn't go quite that far, though."
With screeching tires, Nymphadora rushed the car out of the lot and onto the road. Before the rain made it impossible to see, Bellatrix looked back at the lodge compound one last time to see it completely consumed with living darkness.
"Saw some people run out just after I left. They headed to the other side of the compound. Not sure why," said Nymphadora.
"The Anderson brothers," Bellatrix said. "They're champions at escaping that lodge."
"Well, I hope you're right."
"They're the Old Gods of Asgard," chuckled Bellatrix, shaking her head briefly. "They've made it. I'm certain of it."
Nymphadora shrugged. "Well, I'll take your word for it, auntie," she said, keeping her eyes on the road even though Bellatrix was quite concerned with the speed of the car combined with this low visibility. "So, what now? We got out, but we have no plan."
"Now we find Hermione," said Bellatrix. "She's trapped in the darkness at the bottom of the lake, but she's not dead!"
Nymphadora gave her a sideways glance while steering their car over the soaked asphalt winding through the hills. The storm out wasn't dying down, in fact, it seemed to increase in power. Perhaps the Dark Presence wasn't all that happy about their escape. Trees whipped in the wind, fighting against being snapped like a matchstick. "How do you even know that?" asked Nymphadora.
"I just do!" snapped Bellatrix, still pondering over some of the things she had learned from Hartman. "I can bring her back. This place.. it's special. It does something to works of art created here. Reality becomes art or art becomes reality, I don't know! It makes them come true! But it's not that simple. The Dark Presence at the bottom of the late twists it all to its own ends. That's why all of this is happening."
"If it twists everything, then what's the point of trying to create art?" Nymphadora asked. A valid question.
"I know it's possible, if done right," said Bellatrix. She had proof. In fact, Bellatrix almost told her.
In some unfathomable way, Bellatrix had brought Nymphadora back from the dead. This seemed to have been a retroactive change, altering both her memories and the entire flow of time. If Lane was to believed, and she had no reason to doubt the man, his painting had shown the original past. A past in which she had murdered her own niece. That very fact alone was unfathomable: she and Nymphadora had had major clashes the past ten years, but she couldn't imagine wanting her dead. So many things would have been different. Bellatrix thought of Andromeda. Besides Hermione, her sister had been one of her most ardent defenders, even when jumped by some yellow journalist. Andromeda had visited her in Sweden whenever she could and whenever visits had been allowed after starting her therapy. It was Andromeda whom had always tried to convince her daughter to give her wayward auntie a chance.
If Bellatrix would have killed Nymphadora that night at Hogwarts, all of that would be gone. Her sister wouldn't have want to do anything to with her anymore and Bellatrix wouldn't blame her.
"What?" asked Nymphadora, looking a bit uneasy. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Bellatrix offered a brief smile. "I just noticed. You have your mother's eyes."
Nymphadora raised an eyebrow. "Bit of a weird thing to say, but alright," she shrugged. "Whatever happens, I'm on board. Weird shit is going on, I just saw it with my own two eyes. Fuck me, did I see it…"
"The Andersons knew about the Dark Presence. And I think that poet Thomas Zane knew it too."
"Why do you say that?"
"It all started on his island," said Bellatrix and fished the map from her backpack. Behind her, from the backseat, Max started barking at the sky.
"The Anderson farm isn't far from her. It'd be close to the lake. A place of power," said Bellatrix, looking up from the map and to the road. "If I'm reading this correctly, we're headed in the right direction."
"Let's hope you're right and we finally get some ans… BLOODY HELL!"
Lightning flashed in front of them and the sudden light revealed a massive tree having fallen across the road while the car was heading towards it with a speed that would make avoiding it a pipe dream. Still, Nymphadora made a valiant attempt to smash on the brakes. She promptly lost control over the vehicle, sending it spinning over the wet road until it crashed through the guard rail. The car was still spinning when it was airborne and plummeted into the valley below.
Today was a special occasion for many reasons. First of all, it marked almost exactly a year to day since she and Hermione had started their illicit love-affair. Second, today was the day she was officially released from prison and into Hermione's custody. This was still far from freedom as the curse laid upon her to stay close to Hermione would remain and there'd still be almost daily reports back to the Program from Hermione. Still, it was strange to not have to go back to the prison. First it was weekends, then it was weeks, now it was… forever. It was beyond surreal.
Thankfully she had some distraction as she wasn't the only one to be released in custody of their councillor. Antonin Dolohov, apparently the Program's second success today, had been released around the same time. His councillor, Dimitri, was on the sofa talking shop with Hermione while Bellatrix and Antonin sat at the kitchen table near one of the windows.
"You look really good," said Antonin. "Healthier, years younger."
"Not hard that," said Bellatrix. She and Antonin had been friends for ages and they had started up a correspondence once the Program had allowed them to. It was good to talk to him face-to-face again. "Have you dyed your hair?"
"Nah. Eating better," he chuckled. "But you? You've been using supplements."
"Guilty," shrugged Bellatrix. "Can you blame me?"
"Tel me something else. You and Hermione. How long have you two been together?"
Bellatrix chuckled and took a sip from her tea. "That obvious, hm?"
"Be a bit more discreet with giving lovey-dovey eyes," Antonin winked.
Bellatrix shook her head. "You're just jealous I bagged a smart, talented, beautiful younger witch."
"I'm not shagging Dimitri."
"Well, maybe you should."
Antonin took a sip from his own tea. "You always preferred the ladies. Remember how angry the Dark Lord was when you brought those two muggle girls back to the hide-out in... '75, wasn't it?"
"Hmm," grinned Bellatrix as pleasant memories return. "Robyn and Delia. American tourists clubbing in London. American birds dig our accents."
"And then you did it again the very next day with two more muggle girls."
"Emma and Audrey! French girls. Bit of a hate fuck."
"This was before he... broke your will."
Bellatrix pursed her lips. "Before my brainwashing. Before I went off the deep end."
"It's subtle, isn't it? What Hermione and Dimitri have done. Gentle but firm reprogramming through a kind hand and a tailor-made councillor regime."
"Well, I won't argue with the results," said Bellatrix. "Though I'm not surprised you noticed it while it was happening."
"You and a muggle girl," snorted Antonin. "The woman who was at one point considered as a possible vessel for his progeny, his heir."
Bellatrix grimaced. "I would have considered it an honour. I can't imagine what that poor kid would have to go through."
"Well, the point is moot," said Antonin. "Though considering what happened, we're lucky we got through the Program when we did."
Bellatrix cocked her head sideways. "Do you know something I don't?"
Antonin fell silent for a moment, took a glance at the chatting Hermione and Dimitri, leaned in and lowered his voice. "You didn't hear? Not keeping up with the news?"
"About what?"
Antonin sighed. "Fenrir ripped his councillor's head off last week. Literally."
"Shit."
"Quite," Antonin sighed.
"Hermione has been tense for a couple of days, but I thought that was just about my release."
"There was talk about delaying both our releases, but it was argued that if those who did actually put in the work without killing their councillors should suffer for the actions of another, it would go against the spirit of the Program," said Antonin. "As you can imagine, the Program's under a lot of scrutiny right now. Yellow journalism is being yellow journalism. Apparently, we're all time-bombs waiting to go off."
"Of course," Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Let me guess, the Sunday Sorcery is fear-mongering."
"Honestly, the Program's not as successful as they've hoped," said Antonin. "There's you and me, obviously. And Rodolphus and Rookwood are up for release into custody in a month or two. Aside from a few of the lower ranked mooks, that's the about the extent of their success stories."
Bellatrix grimaced. "All the intelligent people, then. Hermione didn't say anything. Why?"
Antonin shrugged. "Perhaps she didn't want to worry you. Your Hermione is the most educated psychologist they have on staff and has been consulting for several other cases… guess which. She's considered somewhat of a senior adviser, I hear. She spotted all the early warning signs with Fenrir's case and tried to warn her superiors, but they apparently didn't listen."
Bellatrix frowned. "How do you know all this?!"
"Dimitri told me. Open and honest, remember? Some other things I pieced together myself. I'm just surprised Hermione didn't tell you at all."
The dark witch turned her head to watch Hermione. Laughing, chatting, smiling. "So am I…" whispered Bellatrix, her voice soft.
Antonin leaned back. "Well, she must have had her reasons. In the meantime, I'm looking to go back to the motherland in a week or so. I still have family there."
"Moving to Russia?" Bellatrix frowned. "You can do that?"
"Of course," said Antonin. "As long as the councillor agrees and Dimitri happens to be Russian himself. It'd be good to leave Europe. Nobody knows me there and there'll be less baggage to deal with. New beginnings and all that."
New beginnings. It gave Bellatrix a lot to ponder.
The rest of the evening was spent over a carefully and artistically prepared dinner and chatting. After Antonin and Dimitri had left, she and Hermione still had to celebrate her release. The celebration was spending the first hours of the night going up to the loft and showing Hermione all the corners of the bed. And so Bellatrix lay on her back staring into the night with a sleeping Hermione cuddled up against her. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she managed to disentangle herself from a Hermione who mewed in protest. After replacing the warm duvet on top of Hermione, she slowly went down the stairs. She shivered a bit in the cold air, but made her way to the window. After chasing that damn cat away from the windowsill, she peeked through the curtains and spent a moment just staring at the empty streets of night-time Stockholm. It was snowing outside.
"Can't sleep?" sounded a soft voice behind her. An embrace followed. Arms around her waist. Soft breasts pressing in her back. Lips roving over the side of her neck.
Perfection.
"For the first time in my life," said Bellatrix. "I have absolutely no idea what to do with myself."
"That frightens you?"
Bellatrix thought for a moment. "I don't know," she replied honestly. "I've always had my life's path laid out for me. Always some goal to work towards."
"Goals set for you by other people."
As usual, Hermione hit the nail right on the head.
"You set some goals for me," smirked Bellatrix.
"Tease," Hermione chuckled. More kisses on her shoulder. "I gave you a push. You did the rest yourself."
Bellatrix closed her eyes, revelling in Hermione's warmth for a moment. But some things did need to be discussed. "Why didn't you tell me the Program is in trouble?"
Behind her, Hermione froze for a moment. Then, the arms around her waist grasped a little tighter. "First of all, doctor-patient confidentiality. I can't tell you everything about other patients in the Program. Second, well, I didn't want to worry you. Not when you're doing so well."
Bellatrix turned around to look Hermione in the eye. And when she looked away, she reached out and gently raised her chin. "No more secrets, Hermione."
Hermione nodded briefly.
"I've been thinking of something Antonin said."
"Oh?"
"New beginnings," said Bellatrix. "I don't think Stockholm is the right place for that. It's too crowded, too… close to the UK. I don't want to give up what we have. Or run the risk of it being exposed."
"What do you suggest?" asked Hermione.
Bellatrix grinned and ran a hand through her girl's long brown hair. "That we move to a place nobody knows us. We were can be who we want to be."
"I'll have to keep making reports," said Hermione, with a glint in her eye. "You might be released into my custody, but you still have a lot of work to do, lady!"
Bellatrix chuckled. A deep, throaty chuckle. "That'll be my goal then," she said just before pressing her lips on Hermione's. A swiftly deepening kiss followed. "Being away from Europe might silence some voices. With my finances, which you conveniently control, we could buy a house and live comfortably everywhere we want. Let's start looking for places to live."
Hermione smirked. "Well, let's not move house just yet. Andromeda is coming over for the weekend."
Ah yes, she was so looking forward to meeting Andromeda outside of a prison meeting hall.
"She'll be bringing Nymphadora along."
Ah, and there was the downside.
Bellatrix sighed. "Fantastic," she snorted.
"I've tried my best to convince her, but Nymphadora simply doesn't trust you alone with Andromeda."
"I would never harm my own flesh and blood!" Bellatrix snarled. "That includes Nymphadora! Bloody vicious harpy! It's insulting!"
Bellatrix didn't notice Hermione's hand moving to her neck before it was too late. With a strangled yelp, she was lifted off the ground while her larynx was being crushed with a thumb. The Thing That Was Hermione narrowed its dark eyes at her. "FOUND YOU!" it spoke forcefully with a dulcet tone.