A/N: Welcome back! I've been working on chapters for my other stories as well, so it's taken longer than I thought to have any of them ready. If you're reading my two other in-progress stories, expect an update soon.
Anyway, I hope you're all doing well. Enjoy!
I'm alone with you,
You're alone with me
And I'm hoping that you see yourself
Like I see you
-I See You, Missio
The next few days, Hermione stayed at work later than usual. Ginny would take Draco home at the end of the day and Hermione would pace her office reading through files from the archives. She would stay until almost midnight, the Ministry dark and empty save for the few Aurors but she never ran into them. Ginny had tried to convince Hermione not to stay but had quickly decided not to spend the energy. Hermione got this way sometimes and the best thing to do was to give her space and let her work it out on her own. She did make sure the brunette had dinner packed by convincing Narcissa to go along with it. Pushing Hermione would only make it worse, something Ginny had learned over the years.
Hermione threw the file onto her desk with a frustrated growl. She hadn't found anything useful in the archives, not that she had really expected to but she had hoped she would. Aside from the record Luna found, there was no mention of the Arthurian Order. Hermione dragged a hand through her hair, tired of dead ends getting in her way. She inhaled slowly through her nose, striding out of her office and closing the door a little harder than she meant to, but she couldn't deny that it was satisfying. Clearly, she wasn't going to find anything worthwhile at the Ministry.
"Perhaps I'm going about this wrong," Hermione mused to herself, coming to a stop in front of a desk.
She inhaled slowly through her mouth. "Okay, think. There are three pieces to the puzzle. I have one piece, there has to be a clue to the others. Luna said each faction gets their orders from someone in the central faction. Surely they know we have The Long Arm in custody. They were either expected to complete their task or to fail trying."
Hermione had begun pacing while she thought aloud to herself, suddenly drawing to a stop. "Unless they were supposed to get caught. Hmmm. That doesn't make sense, they put up too much of a fight. I was the target, so whoever collected the information must not have known that I can call my magic to me, but that doesn't eliminate anyone. I didn't even know! The only people that would have been able to strategize my plan of action would be people with access to my reports or someone I've worked with."
With a sharp inhale, Hermione muttered, "Oh, no. It can't be."
Her running footsteps echoed in the empty corridors, making her unease more tangible. There were only a handful of people in the Ministry with high enough clearance to access her reports that would also want her out of the way. The archive room in the Ministry was full of files and reports, dating all the way back to its inception. Rather than going to the area she had been frequenting over the past several nights, Hermione went to where her reports were filed. The benefit of having a magical archive was that everyone who handled a file was recorded, and even if you tried to make it look like you hadn't, there was always a trail. Hermione stopped in front of the boxes containing every report she'd ever filed. She presumed that the files that would be most helpful were the ones she had filed after she had transferred from being an Auror and had become a full-fledged field agent. Aside from that, she wasn't really sure where to start.
She grabbed a box at random, turning it so she could see the access history. Unsatisfied with the list, she pushed it back, grabbing the one to the right of it. Something about this box nagged at her. The only name on the access history was Kingsley, but she was certain she had looked over these files for a trial. This was the type of trail she would expect from someone trying to erase that they had ever looked at it. It either didn't work at all, or it worked too well and erased names that weren't intended to be erased. With a grunt, she pulled it from the shelf, waddling over to the nearby table and setting it down with a thump.
"Finite Incatatem," she whispered. Nothing happened, which was to be expected since whoever had accessed the file didn't want to be found, but it didn't hurt to try.
Hermione had no idea how much time had passed, or how many different spells she had tried before it finally worked. She watched with bated breath as her name appeared on the access history, followed by a name she had hoped not to see again. It seemed that she would never be rid of the woman who had made her fifth year a living hell. Hermione felt the cold tendrils of anger wrapping around her and she shoved the box back into its place, storming out of the archive room. She hadn't understood why Kingsley had allowed her to keep her seat on the Wizengamot, but he had and it seemed she was determined to destroy Hermione for what happened. She had half a mind to show up at her house unannounced and intimidate her into telling her who else was part of the Arthurian Order but she was aware that plan could easily backfire.
Instead, she took refuge in her office, slamming her fists on her desk and shouting, "Fuck! For Merlin's sake, why can't things just be normal for once?"
The force of her strike on her desk took several moments to diffuse past the anger, and she hissed as she shook her wrists out. She sighed, dropping her head and leaning her weight on her desk. Irately, she squeezed the bridge of her nose, focusing on breathing until she could calm down enough to think rationally. Umbridge would be slippery, and if she had an inkling that Hermione was onto her, things would go sideways. She needed a subtle approach. Luna could put together a report of everything that had been tampered with for her to present to Kingsley. If she could gather enough evidence against Umbridge, she would be able to bring her in for questioning. It was a risky move, but she could use Umbridge to draw out the rest of the members if she played her cards right.
"Hermione," Harry said as he knocked on her door, "I know you're in there."
"Come in, Harry," she answered, not moving from her spot.
He opened the door, approaching her cautiously. "You can't keep going like this, 'Mione."
"I need to figure this out," she said, deciding to organize the files on her desk.
"You will," he said, gently guiding her to a stop by placing his hands on her shoulder, "But you also need to rest. You've got to stay sharp, yeah?"
She sighed, leaning into his shoulder. "I'm so close to getting to the bottom of all of this."
"Remember when we were hunting Horcruxes and I tried to bear the weight of the locket by myself? This is like that. Let me bear it for the next few hours and you go home and get some sleep. You can get right back on it tomorrow," he said, sliding his arms around her shoulders and resting his chin on her head.
"Thanks, Harry," she mumbled, "How'd you know I was here?"
He smirked at her as she pulled away. "Ginny told me."
Hermione rolled her eyes, nudging him out of her office and locking it behind her. "Goodnight, Harry."
"Goodnight, 'Mione," he waved.
The exhaustion didn't hit her until she emerged in Malfoy Manor, stifling a yawn as she trudged up the stairs. Wearily, she pushed open the door to the room she shared with Bellatrix, forcing herself to change into pajamas before crawling into bed. Without thinking about it, she scooted closer to Bellatrix, burying her face in her neck and holding her shoulder.
Bellatrix woke when she felt Hermione settle in bed next to her. The brunette had scarcely been around lately and part of Bellatrix's brain told her that Hermione wanted space, but she always cuddled her when she got in bed. The more logical part of her knew that Hermione was running ragged trying to get to the bottom of the attack. She nearly always fell asleep as soon as she was comfortable, but Bellatrix didn't mind. It was good enough for her to feel the warmth radiating from Hermione where they were touching and to feel her soft, even breaths against her neck.
Bellatrix spent most of her waking hours trying to move more of her body. Once she had been able to move her shoulders, her progress seemed much faster. She could wiggle the fingers on both of her hands and bend her elbows, but she couldn't quite lift them yet. The only time she didn't try to move was when Hermione was in bed when she woke up. Sometimes Narcissa or Andromeda would be there, sometimes both. It was nice to have the support of her sisters, especially now that she was finally making progress. She supposed it could have been a mental block and Hermione had made her realize she shouldn't give up so easily. One of these days, she would be able to wrap her arms around the younger witch. It was one of her strongest motivators.
Hermione stirred against her, mumbling something without waking up. Bellatrix tried to see the expression on her face, but she couldn't move her head without possibly waking Hermione as her face was buried in her neck. The grip on her shoulder tightened and Hermione mumbled something again, pressing her face firmly into Bellatrix's shoulder.
"Hermione," Bellatrix whispered, hoping to wake her from what seemed to be a nightmare.
The brunette grumbled something unintelligible and Bellatrix noticed the light sheen of sweat on her skin.
"Hermione," she said again, louder this time.
She jerked away, reaching for the wand under her pillow and pointing it at Bellatrix in the span of a blink, a spell on her lips before she realized where she was. Her chest heaved as she lowered her wand, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead.
"Sorry," she rasped, suddenly feeling very thirsty.
"Are you okay?" Bellatrix asked, ignoring the apology.
Hermione took a deep breath, leaning her back against the headboard and bringing her knees to her chest. "I made a breakthrough tonight and it's bugging me. I'm so close to getting to the bottom of this."
"You're scared you aren't gonna like what you find. And that it won't matter anyway because someone will replace them eventually." Bellatrix shifted so she could look up at Hermione, her neck at a slightly awkward angle.
She nodded, sighing into her knees. "I already don't like what I found but, yeah, I am scared of that."
Bellatrix moved her arm along the bed until her fingers brushed Hermione's. "You're strong enough to do this, you have the support you need. How many times do I have to tell you that you can lean on your friends and family?"
"You can move," Hermione breathed, gently closing her hand around Bellatrix's when she tried to pull away.
"I'm getting there, still can't really do much more than this. But you're avoiding the question." Bellatrix felt her heart skip a beat when Hermione's warm hand closed around her own.
Hermione sighed, leaning her head back. "Until it sinks in. I'm sure Cissa has told me I'm at least as stubborn as you. I guess you have your work cut out for you."
Bellatrix caught the slight smile on Hermione's face before it quickly faded. "What's on your mind?"
"Hold on." Hermione pushed herself off the bed, rummaging in the dark for parchment and a quill before growing frustrated and summoning them to her.
She crouched over the desk, scribbling something and grumbling to herself. Bellatrix, watching patiently, could only make out, "Three factions...Central leader...Representatives connect it all."
Hermione returned to the bed, sitting cross-legged facing Bellatrix and holding the parchment so she could read it. On the parchment was a triangle with one side labeled "The Long Arm," another labeled "Spies?" and the last labeled "Deciders?" A circle was inscribed in the triangle with a vertical line inside of it. The vertical line had an arrow originating from the word "Mastermind." Bellatrix struggled to read Hermione's hastily scribbled realizations, especially in the low light provided by the moon.
"The Deathly Hallows," she finally mumbled.
Hermione turned the parchment back to her, staring intently at it. "I have a plan. Sort of. I think I know who might be a member of the spy faction. If I'm right, I should be able to figure out who the other members of that faction are. I suspect they'll all be pretty powerful so they can access secrets. Once I have them in custody as well as the faction currently in custody, I can draw out the third faction. When I've figured out who they are, I can have them secretly monitored. It'll be tricky to lure out the mastermind behind it all, I'm not sure I've gotten that far yet. I need to see if Ginny is here."
Before Bellatrix finished processing all Hermione had said, the brunette was already out the door, barging into the room she used to occupy, assuming Ginny still slept there when she stayed.
"What the fuck, 'Mione?" she grumbled angrily, throwing a pillow in her general direction without looking.
"I've had a breakthrough, Gin!" she announced, ignoring the finger directed at her.
Ginny groaned, burying her face in the mattress. She took a long, slow breath when she felt the mattress dip from Hermione sitting down. The brunette witch was practically bouncing up and down and Ginny turned to look at her, a slightly grumpy expression on her face as she waited for Hermione to explain. She shoved the parchment in her face, shaking it when she stared at it. Ginny made a noise between a sigh and a groan, pushing herself up and snatching the parchment from her hands. She blinked sleepily, spelling up a ball of light so she could read it. Her brows furrowed the more she looked at it, recognizing the symbol but unable to place it.
"I've seen this before," she whispered, tracing the shapes Hermione had drawn.
"It's the Deathly Hallows," Hermione provided, "Voldemort was obsessed with them. I don't know if it's a coincidence, but I don't think it is."
Ginny dragged a hand over her face, holding the parchment back out to Hermione. "Given that most of the Death Eaters that were unaccounted for are involved, I don't think so, either. That doesn't change the fact that we don't have a clue about the rest of the members."
"We do now. I was getting frustrated with not finding anything so I talked it out with myself and I realized something. What better way to spy than to be a high ranking Ministry employee?" Hermione waited until a look of realization dawned on Ginny's face. "I went back to my old reports and it turns out that Umbridge tried to hide that she accessed one of them. I'm going to have Luna check the others in the morning."
"I never liked that woman, can't understand why Kingsley let her stay," Ginny grumbled, "So, what? We get her in custody and get the other members from her?"
Hermione nodded. "If we play our cards right, I think we can set up a trap to lure out the person behind it all. It'll be tricky, and we'll have to make sure we have all the other members in custody."
"A fake press conference! The media has been dying to know what's been going on. We'll hold a press conference once the spies are in custody. We'll keep the last faction under surveillance and bring them in during the conference, they'll probably show up to keep tabs on what we know. I bet the mastermind will, too. Aurors will be mixed in with the press and Luna, Neville, and I will be with you to keep an eye out. Once we're sure of who it is, the Aurors in the crowd will subdue the press while we apprehend them." Ginny could feel the wheels in her brain turning faster than normal after just waking up. She was proud of herself for her plan, too, it was something Hermione would come up with.
"We'll need an anti-Apparition ward, but I'm sure some of them will have portkeys, so we'll need a barrier that nullifies enchantments." Hermione frowned. "That'll take some figuring out."
Ginny hummed. "Minerva would probably help you out with that. Hogwarts might have something useful."
"Good idea," Hermione said, "I'll pop by tomorrow. You can handle things for the day, right?"
Ginny rolled her eyes, whacking Hermione with her pillow. "I managed for a month, in case you forgot already. Just let me go back to sleep."
"Okay, okay," Hermione laughed pushing the pillow away from her, "I'll see you in the morning."
She grumbled in response, half asleep as soon as Hermione was off the bed. Hermione closed the door with a fond smile, crossing the hallway to her room with Bellatrix. The faint moonlight seeping into the room illuminated Bellatrix's pale skin, making the darkness of her hair and the planes of her face more pronounced. Her thick eyelashes protected closed eyes and Hermione couldn't help but stop and stare for a second. When she realized what she was doing, she shook her head hard, crawling back in the bed. Bellatrix turned to look at her with a sleepy smile that made Hermione's heart flutter.
"Sorry," she mumbled, her cheeks flushing against her will.
The corner of Bellatrix's mouth twitched upward. "Don't be. I know it's important."
Hermione yawned, throwing her arm over Bellatrix without thinking about it and threading their fingers together. Bellatrix felt her breath catch in her throat, forcing herself not to make a sound as she stared at their interlocked hands. Hermione was already sound asleep beside her, her light breaths fanning over her shoulder. Bellatrix stifled a yawn, feeling sleep pulling her into its arms.
Minerva had been pleasantly surprised to hear from her former student. Her request to stop by was last minute, but she was more than happy to clear some time for a visit. She suspected there was a reason behind it, but that didn't mean they couldn't catch up. Hermione was as punctual as ever, stepping out of the floo just as a house-elf had set down tea and scones.
"Hermione," she greeted cheerily, embracing the witch that had wormed her way into her heart despite the trouble she had gotten into, "It's so good to see you."
"And you, Minerva," she said, squeezing the Headmistress tightly, "I've missed you. I'm not great at keeping up, I'm sorry."
Minerva waved her off, lowering herself into a chair and fixing herself some tea. "Nonsense. I know you're busy managing an entire department. It's not as if I've been very good about keeping up, either."
"How's the school?" Hermione asked, picking up a scone.
Minerva sighed into her tea. "Well, aside from DADA, everything is great. It's always been troublesome to fill the position, no one seems to want it for long. The person holding it now has already said they won't continue next year and the term just started a month ago."
"You'll find somebody," she assured, bringing her tea to her lips.
"I don't suppose you'll be retiring from the ministry before the next school year?" she asked hopefully. She had been wanting Hermione to teach it for a while now but hadn't wanted to interfere with her dream career.
Hermione laughed, setting down her tea. "I'm not sure. Recently I've been thinking about a change of pace. Working for the ministry isn't what I thought it would be and it's a little disappointing if I'm honest. I guess I expected it to be...I don't know. Things didn't get better the way I imagined they would after the war. Things are mostly still the same."
"It's easy to have all these grand ideas when you're young. And then you grow up and you realize it's not as simple as you thought. But I know you didn't ask to see me to talk about that, so what do you need?" Minerva knew exactly what Hermione was feeling. She had the wool pulled from her eyes rather roughly after her graduation and she had become a tad cynical. It was part of growing up.
She leaned back, drumming her fingers on the arms of the chair. "I was wondering if you would let me browse the Restricted Section. I'm hoping to find something to create a barrier that nullifies enchanted objects for a case I've been working on."
"Well," Minerva said, setting her tea down in surprise, "I'm not sure if we'll have anything but Madame Pince is really the one you should be asking. I know you know the way, but I'll walk with you anyway."
"I'd like that," Hermione responded with a nod.
They kept the conversation superficial as they walked through the corridors. Students were prone to eavesdropping when they heard something interesting and Minerva would rather not tempt them. Her presence had the added effect of deterring even the bravest of Gryffindors from approaching Hermione, and she knew the brunette witch would be swarmed with questions and get caught up trying to answer them. Perhaps another time Hermione would be able to linger, but she sensed that wasn't the case today.
Madame Pince had directed Hermione to a dusty section among the restricted books, unsure if there was anything that specific there, but if there was, that's where she would find it. She normally didn't have such specific requests and she was only familiar with the general topic of everything. Hermione had no problem pouring over the countless books, scanning quickly through them for any mention of what she was looking for. As her pile of candidates grew smaller and smaller, she became more and more frustrated. She had the overwhelming urge to chuck the next book she picked up, but it wasn't their fault they were useless to her. It was the writer's.
After a few hours of flipping through books and making a list of books that were mentioned, she had finally found something. It was written in what she was pretty sure was another language, so she couldn't be entirely certain it would be helpful. A few of the words stood out to her as important, so she supposed it was worth having Luna take a look at it. It was the only book she brought with her back to Madame Pince so she could take it from the library. She seemed more interested in shushing a few students who had noticed Hermione and were loudly whispering to each other, waving her away so the students would stop talking.
Hermione had no particular desire to leave Hogwarts quickly. She didn't really want to be pestered with questions from the students, but she was curious about who the newest DADA professor was. True to its supposed curse, each professor only lasted a year. Many found the subject difficult to teach, and others realized they would rather pursue something else. Still, she was curious to see who it was for the year, so she made her way through the corridors to the classroom, waving awkwardly at the students gawking at her. Walking through the castle that had been her second home made her feel better than she had since she joined the ministry. Even with the moving staircases, she was never lost and she always ended up exactly where she meant to go.
Slowly, she eased open the door to the DADA classroom, wincing when it squeaked. Several heads turned to look at her, including the professor. It had been a long time since she had seen Cho Chang. They hadn't interacted with each other since Umbridge had caught Dumbledore's Army, but they were civil to each other when they were in the same room. There was nothing to be mad at her for, they just weren't friends but they weren't enemies, either.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, I just wanted to pop in and see who was teaching," she said, tucking the book under her arm.
"Since you're here, would you mind giving the students a demonstration?" Cho asked, inviting her in with a smile.
Hermione smiled. "I don't see why not."
"Brilliant," she said explaining to the class, "The Patronus charm is cast using your happiest memory. For most people, it takes several tries to produce the basic form of it, and even more to produce a corporeal one, which takes the shape of an animal. There have been documented cases of a person's Patronus being a magical creature, but these are few and far between. The shape of your Patronus is said to reflect your personality. For example, someone with a dog as their Patronus may be protective while someone with a horse may be free-spirited."
"Well said," Hermione whispered, setting her book down on Cho's desk and rolling up her sleeves.
"As the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Miss Granger uses her Patronus to send messages quickly to her colleagues or subordinates, and to protect against Dementors when she visits Azkaban. For those of you wishing to become Aurors, you must be proficient in producing and maintaining a corporeal Patronus for long periods of time because it is mandatory for all Aurors to start as a guard in Azkaban." She turned to Hermione. "Whenever you're ready."
"Expecto Patronum!" she cast with a flourish, keeping the power of the spell on the weak side to demonstrate the incorporeal form.
"As you can see, the incorporeal form acts as a shield from Dementors. While it cannot be used to send messages, it is strong in its own right, able to keep Dementors at bay for as long as you can maintain the spell," Cho explained.
Hermione added her full power to the spell, a phoenix bursting from the tip of her wand in a bright flash. She nearly lost her focus in her surprise. When she had cast it on Monday, it had still been an otter, like the first time she had produced it. That had been a long time ago, and she found herself using a different memory than she normally did.
"I thought your Patronus was an otter," Cho whispered to her.
"So did I," she whispered back.
Cho cleared her throat, snapping her students out of their awe enough to listen. "For those of you who are wondering, it is possible for a Patronus to change. Simply using a different memory usually isn't enough on its own, but when combined with growth or a lapse into bad habits, the form our Patronus takes can change with us. Much like we sometimes grow out of our wand, we can grow out of our Patronus. Miss Granger's original Patronus was an otter, but as you can clearly see, it now takes the shape of a phoenix."
"If I may," Hermione said, waiting until Cho nodded to continue, "The bond between a Patronus and a witch or wizard is one of the strongest connections directly to their magic. No matter how much the form of your Patronus changes, it will always respond as if it were a part of you, so long as you treat it as such. A weakening connection to your Patronus can result in the inability to produce a corporeal Patronus. As a type of magic that stems from happiness, it is important to nurture your happiness so that your Patronus remains strong. Always use your happiest memory, even if it isn't the same as when you first produced a corporeal Patronus, otherwise it will gradually fade away."
A hand shot up in the air as the owner blurted, "Has your happiest memory ever failed to produce a Patronus?"
Hermione shook her head, leaning against the wall. "Never. There were times where it seemed like it would be impossible, like even the memory of pure happiness wouldn't be strong enough to work because of all the...unhappiness around me, but even during those times, I could at least produce an incorporeal Patronus. Even after being exposed to incredibly dark magic, my Patronus has always come to me."
"Can you produce one without a wand?" another student asked.
"Yes, as well as all of the field agents in my department. They are all proficient at wandless magic and many of them are highly skilled with nonverbal magic," Hermione answered.
Before anyone had the chance to ask another question, Cho dismissed the class, ignoring the groans of disappointment. "I'm sure you have a lot to deal with, I didn't want them to go on and on."
"It's alright, I'm under strict instructions to take it easy today," Hermione shrugged, "I'm not sure if this is too personal, but you do a great job with the class, why don't you want to teach it next year?"
"It's harder to be back than I thought. All of the memories of our classmates, classmates that are dead, it's haunting. I never imagined it would be so difficult, especially since it's been years. I really don't know how you do it."
Hermione averted her gaze to the floor, muttering, "I've kinda gotten numb to it all. After a while, it's easy to just not feel it."
"I'm not sure if that sounds better," Cho admitted.
"It's not," Hermione whispered, "I should get going. It was good to see you, Cho."
"You, too," she said, awkwardly waving to Hermione's back.
Hermione rolled her shoulders as she exited, her earlier mood gone. She navigated the corridors on instinct, not registering anything around her. It was easier not to deal with the memories that had haunted her right after the war ended. She had shoved them all into a little box and pushed it all the way to the back of her mind so she didn't have to think about it, but she had never gotten over anything that happened. Maybe it was time she started.
It made her feel slightly terrible, but she was glad Minerva wasn't in her office when she left. She wasn't in the mood for conversation, even if it was with Minerva, whom she thought of as a mentor and friend. She did leave a note letting her know that she had left so she didn't wonder. All she wanted to do was lock herself in her office and get the answers she was tirelessly searching for, but Luna would already be home by now and she needed the eccentric witch for the translation. Even though Hermione knew no one would be there, she went to the Ministry anyway. Emerging from the floo, she immediately cursed herself because the elevators wouldn't be operational. With a sigh, she ran a hand through her hair, tucking the book under her arm and trudging to her office. To her surprise, Ginny was waiting for her in her office, leaning against the desk with her arms crossed.
"Yup, I knew you'd come here. Don't even think about it. We are leaving and you are going to enjoy the weekend without working," Ginny said, walking forward and grabbing Hermione's arm to drag her out of the office.
"But I walked all the way here," Hermione whined, trying to pull against Ginny's insistent tugging, "And it isn't even late."
"You could've gone home and saved yourself the trouble," she replied, not relenting.
Hermione sighed, grumbling, "Fine, at least let me put this on my desk."
Ginny let go, crossing her arms and tapping her foot as she watched Hermione place the book on her desk and walk back toward her.
"Happy?" she grouchily asked.
"Very," Ginny smirked, throwing her arm over Hermione's shoulders, "Come see the house this weekend."
"Yeah, okay," she mumbled, casting a longing look back at her office.
Ginny could tell Hermione wasn't in the mood to talk, so she let silence settle between them, keeping her arm over Hermione's shoulders. Something was clearly bothering her- clear to Ginny, at least- but if she didn't bring it up it meant she didn't want to talk about it. Ginny would wait until Hermione was ready to talk about whatever it was. Hermione found herself leaning into Ginny slightly, appreciating the physical comfort. She pushed Hermione into the floo first, intent on making sure she went home.
"I don't want to babysit you, 'Mi. Spend some time with Bellatrix. Come to the house tomorrow around lunch. And for Merlin's sake, please relax," Ginny said.
Hermione nodded, noticing the exhaustion surrounding Ginny. Had she really been causing that much worry for her friend?
"You relax, too, Gin. Thanks for always being there," Hermione responded.
She uttered her destination as she let go of the floo powder, actually glad to not be working. It was the easiest thing to do, but even she needed breaks, though she never did want to admit it. Narcissa was waiting for her in the foyer, no doubt to make sure she came home and stayed home. Hermione offered her a sheepish grin, welcoming the hug and burying her face in Narcissa's shoulder.
"Is everything okay?" Narcissa asked, stroking her hair.
Hermione nodded, inhaling deeply. "Just...I don't know."
Narcissa held Hermione by the shoulders, pulling away so she could look at her. "How about you go on up and sit with Bella? I'll have dinner sent up to you."
"Narcissa?"
"What is it, dear?" she asked, cupping Hermione's face maternally.
Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times, settling on, "Thank you for taking care of me when I don't take care of myself."
She could tell it wasn't what Hermione had really wanted to say, but that didn't make the sentiment any less real. "It's my pleasure, Hermione. Go on, now."
Hermione smiled weakly at her, allowing her to urge her to the stairs with a gentle hand on her back. She made her way up the stairs, taking longer than usual. She would stop every now and then to observe the paintings on the wall. She had already seen them all countless times, but she was stalling. Hermione knew she would want to talk to Bellatrix, but she wasn't ready to talk about what was really on her mind and she didn't see the point in dancing around the issue. Not with Bellatrix.
The dark-haired witch was awake and sitting up when Hermione finally reached their room. She was fidgeting with her hands, and Hermione almost thought she looked a little nervous. There was no reason she could think of for Bellatrix to be nervous, but she had to admit it was endearing.
She drew her attention with a whispered, "Hey, Bella."
The distant expression on her face was replaced with a content smile as she turned to look at the brunette. "Hey, Hermione."
"How does it feel to be sitting up?" she asked, toeing off her shoes and transfiguring her clothes into pajamas.
Bellatrix shrugged, a smile still on her face. "It's better than lying down all the time, but Narcissa still had to help me."
"You'll get there," Hermione encouraged, sitting on the end of the bed with her back against the post and her legs stretched out so she could face Bellatrix.
"Wanna talk about it?" Bellatrix asked, easily picking up on Hermione's mood.
Hermione sighed, banging her head softly against the bedpost. "No. Yes. I should."
When Bellatrix didn't say anything, Hermione continued, "I'm sure you've noticed that I tend to...avoid things I don't want to talk about. Mainly by throwing myself into work."
She hugged her knees to her chest as Bellatrix nodded. "It's been years since the war ended, and I still haven't...worked through everything. I haven't wanted to. It's easier to just...pretend it never happened, but I can't do that forever."
"Even if you could, you shouldn't," Bellatrix whispered, wanting to be able to move next to Hermione so she could comfort her, "Will you sit next to me?"
Hermione hesitantly moved next to Bellatrix, leaning her head against her shoulder when a slim arm slid over her shoulders, squeezing reassuringly. "I know. I'm not sure how to feel about it all. Or where to start."
"Start wherever you want, Hermione, whenever you're ready."
Hermione closed her eyes, taking several moments to think. "So much happened, and I was just a kid. I thought it was exciting, it made me feel special. And as I got older I realized it sucked to be thrust into a war that I had no business fighting. We were lucky to make it out alive, and I feel stupid for thinking things would actually be different when we won. At first, I was too young to understand my own mortality, but looking back, I...I was just some dumb kid rushing into danger with little regard for my safety because I believed my motives were just."
"You're far from stupid," Bellatrix reassured, nudging Hermione's head with her chin, "All of that is understandable. As children, we don't understand the way things actually work. Things are more complicated than we think they are when we're kids."
"I guess I'm stalling," Hermione mumbled.
"Nothing wrong with that. We have time," Bellatrix whispered.
Hermione shifted so her head was leaning against Bellatrix's collarbone. Bellatrix brought her other arm around Hermione, smiling when the brunette linked their hands together. She fidgeted with Hermione's fingers, letting her have some silence to think. By the time a house-elf brought up dinner, Hermione was partially asleep, still leaning against Bellatrix's chest and breathing softly.
Bellatrix was hesitant to wake her, but she knew Hermione and figured she hadn't eaten since breakfast, so she woke her with a whispered, "Hermione, it's time to eat."
Hermione blinked slowly, her awareness seeping in against the sleepiness. "Oh, Merlin, I am so sorry, that cannot be comfortable for you!"
She moved to sit up but Bellatrix tightened her arms around Hermione, whispering, "Stay."
"Are you still unable to feel anything?" Hermione asked, genuinely curious, as she relaxed back into Bellatrix, tilting her head up slightly to look at her.
"Just you," she answered, smiling down at her.
Hermione had a wondrous expression on her face as she looked up at Bellatrix. No matter how many times she looked at Bellatrix, she was always amazed. She had spent so much time memorizing the features of her face and the more she looked at her, the more she noticed. It helped that she was closer than she usually was, too. She saw now that Bellatrix had a tiny scar near her right eye, perpendicular to her cheekbone and almost invisible. It must've been from a long time ago, maybe some debris from a Bombarda had hit her during a duel. Without thinking, she reached up to trace it, causing Bellatrix to jump when her fingers brushed against her skin.
"Sorry," Hermione mumbled her face reddening.
"You sure do apologize a lot," Bellatrix teased, taking great pleasure in watching Hermione's face grow even redder, "I'll tell you if you ever need to apologize."
Hermione nodded, her mouth dry. Bellatrix's lips had curled up in a teasing smirk and the way she was looking slightly down at Hermione had her thoughts wandering.
"Hermione," Bellatrix whispered. She was doing her best not to stare at the brunette too much, but the awe that she expressed when she looked at Bellatrix was always so open. She found it difficult to keep her gaze from roaming to her lips, or to keep from searching brown eyes for...something. She didn't know what she was looking for, but she knew she would know it when she found it.
"Y-yes?" she asked, clearing her throat awkwardly.
"Your dinner," Bellatrix answered, tilting her chin to the nightstand on Hermione's side.
"Right!" Hermione turned to grab the plate, nearly spilling it onto the floor in her rush. "What about your dinner?"
Bellatrix steadied her, appreciating the muscle tone in Hermione's arm. She scrunched her face as she said, "I had my potions earlier."
"Do you want to try some?" She settled so she was leaning against Bellatrix, holding the plate up.
She thought for a moment. It had been a long time since she had tasted any real food. She wasn't even sure she could hold a fork anymore. Although it would be good practice to get her body working, but lifting her arms was still no easy feat. She had no desire to eat, even though it smelled good. And looked good.
"Maybe another time," she finally said, "I'm sure you skipped lunch and hunted through the Hogwarts library without even realizing the time."
Hermione squeezed her lips together, her cheeks turning pink. She didn't even bother responding. There was no point in denying it, anyone who knew her would be able to tell. Besides, now that she had started eating, she realized how hungry she was. She let her thoughts wander back to work as she ate, frowning at her food.
"Stop it," Bellatrix chided, bumping her chin gently against the back of Hermione's head, "No thinking about work."
"But-"
"I said no," she said, her tone sharpening in a way that sent chills down Hermione's side.
She swallowed hard, nodding and asking, "Do you miss eating food?"
"I'm not sure if I really remember what food even tastes like. When I was little my favorite food was strawberries. I used to sneak into the kitchen late at night and try to take some, but the house-elves always caught me." She laughed. "When I went to Hogwarts I would always go into the Kitchens between classes or before bed and get a handful of strawberries."
Hermione laughed, resting her plate on her lap. "My dad would always make cream horns at Christmas. It was the only time he made them so I would eat as many as I could without puking."
A beat passed before Hermione mumbled, "I don't think I'll ever be able to undo erasing their memories. They'll never know who I am, who I grew up to be. I'll never get to eat my dad's cream horns again."
Before Bellatrix could respond, a sob tore through Hermione. She buried her head in her hands, almost forgetting about the plate in her lap. This was why she hadn't wanted to think about everything that happened, she didn't want to feel the way she felt now. Cool hands made their way up her arms, gently pulling her hands away from her eyes. Bellatrix didn't say anything to her, but she did call for a house-elf to take the plate back to the kitchen. It was nearly empty anyway, and she doubted Hermione would have an appetite before it got cold, even with the warming charm on it. As soon as it was gone, she turned to Bellatrix, burying her face in her shoulder and letting her tears flow freely. The older witch sat there, holding Hermione as tightly as Hermione was holding her and letting her cry.
"Is it wrong to hate them?" Hermione mumbled with a sniffle.
"Hate who, cub?" Bellatrix whispered, hoping Hermione didn't mind being called cub.
The brunette's heart flipped before she made it stop, telling herself Bellatrix was just comforting her and that it didn't mean anything. "Dumbledore and Voldemort."
She thought for a moment, chewing her lip. "No, I don't think it's wrong. But don't let them ruin your goodness, especially since they're both dead. But do you really hate them?"
"No," Hermione grumbled, "But sometimes I wish I could. It would be easier."
"Let me tell you something," Bellatrix whispered, lacing her fingers through Hermione's, "Hatred is a hard thing to hold onto. It's exhausting, it tears you apart from the inside until you don't even recognize yourself when you look in a mirror. I don't want that to happen to you."
"I'm just so angry at them," she muttered, tightening her grip on Bellatrix.
Bellatrix squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Are you angry at them, or yourself? I'm not trying to make you feel bad, just so you know, but you made the decision to erase your parent's memories. You knew what you were doing, and you might've felt like it was the only way to keep them safe, but you still made the choice to do it."
"It's not fair that you can read me so well," Hermione huffed, "Right now, I would give anything to go back and just tell them to go somewhere far, but I didn't want anyone to find them because they remembered me, I didn't want them to worry about whether I was okay. I didn't want to worry about them. It seemed like the best option at the time."
"Decisions can be like that. Sometimes we don't see an alternative until it's too late. Just make sure you learn from it. Everybody has regrets." Bellatrix's voice gradually grew softer as she spoke, almost getting lost in thought.
"I miss them." Hermione felt tears form in her eyes again and she nuzzled into Bellatrix's neck to wipe them away.
"They would be so proud of you, Hermione," she assured quietly, rubbing her thumb along the back of Hermione's hand.
She sniffled again, turning her head out of Bellatrix's shoulder to look at her neck. "You think so?"
"I know so." Bellatrix squeezed her hand again, stifling the shiver that threatened to go down her spine when Hermione's breath ghosted over her neck.
"Thank you, Bella. You always understand." She squeezed her hand back, watching the slight pulsing of Bellatrix's artery.
When Hermione yawned, Bellatrix said, "We should get some sleep."
"Do you need help laying down?" Hermione asked, tilting her head to look up at her.
"Do you mind?"
"Of course not." Hermione sat up, wiping her eyes on her sleeve before supporting Bellatrix's knees and back.
"Would you mind putting me on my side?" she asked, looping her arms around Hermione's neck.
"Which?" she asked, balancing her so she didn't fall.
"Can I face you?" Bellatrix couldn't hide the slight tremor in her voice from her nerves, but Hermione didn't seem to think anything of it.
She placed Bellatrix on her side, laying in front of her and pulling the blanket over them. On instinct, she scooted closer to Bellatrix, humming quietly when an arm slid around her waist. She couldn't help but notice how soft Bellatrix's skin was and how nice it felt to be held by her. She nestled her head under Bellatrix's chin, lightly resting her hand on Bellatrix's hip. She felt more than heard the other woman's laughter, her own heart skipping a beat. Bellatrix pulled her closer, her breathing deepening, indicating she had fallen asleep. Hermione yawned again, her eyes closing as she felt her body relax.