A/N: Well, it's been much longer than I intended. A lot has happened since I last updated and I wasn't really in a place where I had the energy to write, but it always makes me feel better so I'm getting myself back into it. I've spent a good bit of time on this chapter trying to develop things the way I want them to be and having certain interactions happen as naturally as possible. For those of you reading waiting on an update for my other stories, I am working on them as best I can.

I am going to try to keep myself writing, especially since I have so much free time to work on my stories, so I will post chapters as I finish them. It might be days, it might be weeks, so just be sure to check back when you can and if you're frustrated with waiting (because I know it's so hard to wait) tell me some things you think should happen or interactions you'd like to see more of, or even if you'd like to see a chapter from another person's perspective.

I hope you enjoy this chapter and with any luck, I'll be back soon. :)

Bellatrix sat on the couch in the Common Room, staring absently into the crackling fire. Hermione was upstairs sleeping, but she felt restless tonight. The rest of the students would be arriving tomorrow, and Bellatrix was afraid that Hermione wouldn't want to be her friend anymore. What if she found someone better? She hugged her knees to her chest, rocking herself back and forth. She shut her eyes as she buried her face in her knees in an attempt to drown out thoughts that were too loud. Bellatrix curled tighter around herself, retreating into the couch cushions as if to sink away from her thoughts.

Hermione tossed and turned as she slept, hands gripping the sheets in clenched fists. A light sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead. Her nightmares had become sporadic in frequency, sometimes not occurring for weeks, and other times happening every night. Her arm burned, nearly pulling her out of her nightmare. Surely once other students arrived Bellatrix would treat her like scum. She gripped the sheets tighter, breath coming in pants as her chest heaved. Her eyes snapped open, a desperate gasp sucked into her lungs as she sat up. Looking around, she couldn't see Bellatrix anywhere. Hermione sucked in breaths through her nose, exhaling slowly in an attempt to calm herself.

"Bella?" a soft voice questioned. A gentle hand squeezed her shoulder, pulling her to uncurl.

"Hermione," she said, her voice smaller than usual.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked, sitting next to her.

"I was just thinking," came the noncommittal reply.

"About?"

"School starts tomorrow."

"Are you not excited?"

"I am. Why are you up?" Bellatrix asked, trying to change the subject so she could empty her head of thoughts.

"I had a nightmare. It happens sometimes," Hermione mumbled, shrugging.

"Are you okay?" Bellatrix asked, turning to face Hermione.

"I-" Hermione hesitated, "Not really."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Hermione chewed her lip as she thought. Did she? Could she? Would it break the rules of time travel? Bellatrix watched Hermione think, her eyes drawn the lip between Hermione's teeth every now and then.

"When school starts are you going to leave me?" Hermione finally asked, glancing up at Bellatrix through her eyelashes.

"What? Of course not! I was afraid you wouldn't want to be my friend! That you would find someone better," Bellatrix admitted, her voice growing smaller.

"Is that why you're out here?" Hermione asked softly.

Bellatrix nodded, biting her lip and averting her eyes.

"I didn't mean to make you feel like that," Hermione whispered.

"You didn't. I-I get stuck in my head sometimes. But I guess I made you think the same." Bellatrix hugged her knees to her chest, facing Hermione.

"There are a lot of things that are difficult to reconcile between this time and my time. I get stuck in my head, too," Hermione said, mirroring Bellatrix's position.

"I guess we're both basket cases, then," Bellatrix said with a slight smirk.

Hermione laughed, nodding her head and drawing a smile onto Bellatrix's face. She moved to sit next to the other witch, their sides pressing together. They stared into the flickering fire in silence, hugging their knees to their chests and leaning against each other.

"When I was little, my parents would always make a fire after dinner, when it was cold out, and we'd all sit on the floor in front of it and my mum would tell us stories. There were so many nights I fell asleep curled up in my parents' laps and I'd wake up in the night and they'd still be sitting there, with me on their laps, leaning against each other and snoring," Hermione whispered, her eyes staring as if she were looking at the image in front of the fire.

"What kind of stories?" Bellatrix asked, tilting her head up.

"Faerie tales. They're Muggle stories, usually about princes and princesses and love but sometimes they're about sinister things. Mum usually stuck to the happier ones," Hermione explained.

"Will you tell me one?" Bellatrix asked, moving to sit on the floor with her back against the couch.

Hermione smiled, mirroring Bellatrix's position, "I'd love to."

She began to recount one she had heard as a child, enchanting the fire to create images to the tale she told. Bellatrix watched intensely, her eyes tracking the figures of flame and her ears acutely attuned to Hermione's voice. She soaked up the tale, her eyes growing heavy with exhaustion as Hermione grew closer to the end. She leaned her head against the brunette's shoulder, sleepily watching as the fire slowly faded into a dull glow, her eyes drifting closed for the night. Hermione smiled, staying still so she didn't wake the dark-haired witch. In time, her own eyes drifted closed, the fire finally dying out completely and leaving them in darkness except for the strangely murky glow of the lake.

"Hermione," Bellatrix whispered urgently, shaking the brunette's shoulder. She had woken to the sound of Andromeda's footsteps on the staircase, quickly pulling away from the witch she had fallen asleep against and moving to wake her.

"Hermione," she tried again, shaking her more fervently.

Hermione's eyes snapped open, her body instinctively pulling away from the touch, leaving her sprawled on the floor. "Sorry."

Bellatrix offered Hermione a hand once the brunette's eyes came into focus. She took it with a smile, the curly-haired witch pulling her up into a standing position just as Andromeda appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

"Thanks. I didn't mean to fall asleep out here," Hermione mumbled, catching sight of Bellatrix's near-twin out of the corner of her eye.

"Good morning," Andromeda greeted, clandestinely eyeing the exchange between the two witches.

"Morning, Andy," Bellatrix said, turning her attention to her sister.

"Morning," Hermione mumbled, avoiding the gaze of the witch while trying not to be rude or hurtful.

"You know what today is, don't you?" Andromeda asked, not addressing either witch in particular. She was content to pretend to ignore the clear closeness of the two until she was given a proper explanation.

"Yes," Bellatrix said with an eye-roll while Hermione merely nodded.

The two sisters conversed about pure-blood things and Hermione, having no interest in the conversation, moved to the piano, sitting on the bench and staring at the ivory keys that matched the color of Bellatrix's skin. Her fingers danced over the keys, going through the motions but not actually striking them. She let her thoughts wander as her hands moved, conjuring a melody only she could hear because only she knew it. It elicited memories of summertime, with her parents when she was younger, and with the Weasleys as she grew older. Her lips turned down slightly, remembering everything she had left behind when she started over, and everything she left behind when she did something for herself for the second time in her life. Is this really what she had wanted? Hermione wasn't sure of the answer. She wasn't unsure of her actions, she would do everything again if she had the chance, but she had never expected this as the outcome of her decision. Still, she felt better here than she had anywhere else since... well, since she could remember.

"Hermione?" Andromeda said, placing a hand gently on her shoulder so as not to startle her, "Are you okay?"

Hermione's hands stilled, and she blinked. "Yeah, I was just thinking."

"Do you play?" Andromeda asked softly.

"My dad taught me when I was little. I miss him sometimes. It's weird because I haven't missed him in a while," Hermione found herself saying, her eyes welling with tears.

"I'm sorry," Andromeda said, sitting next to her while Bellatrix sat on Hermione's other side.

"It's okay. It wasn't your fault."

Bellatrix felt her heart clench in her chest. She didn't know the full story about Hermione's parents, but she couldn't help feel a little responsible for whatever had happened.

"Our dad refuses to let us touch an instrument with our hands. He says if magic can do it, there's no sense learning."

Bellatrix scoffed at her sister's statement, knowing Andromeda didn't believe it any more than she did.

"Bella," she chided, "You know what will happen if Father finds out."

Bellatrix huffed, refusing to respond but sending a small smile Hermione's way to reassure her.

"Do you believe that, then?" Hermione asked, turning to look at Andromeda directly for the first time.

"Of course not," she scoffed, "but Father does."

"You know I'll always protect you, Andy," Bellatrix said softly.

"You can't protect me forever," she muttered.

Hermione studied Andromeda closely, openly staring at her as Bellatrix said, "I'll protect you until the day I die."

Hermione stayed silent, her breaths coming faster as her mind raced. This was Bellatrix Black, not Bellatrix Lestrange. Bellatrix Black was fierce but kind and protective and sweet and beautiful and curious and brilliant. Bellatrix Lestrange was insane and unhinged and evil. At what point did she change? Everyone seemed to already believe she was like that, but at what point did it become true? After her marriage, certainly, she remembered Minerva occasionally pointing out small similarities between them, and she would never do so if she had believed Bellatrix Black was evil. She cast a glance at the witch beside her, her eyes flicking across her face as Bellatrix watched her with a confused and concerned expression. It was then that Hermione realized she had asked her something.

"Sorry?" she said, blinking herself back into reality.

"Did you want to join us in the Great Hall?" Bellatrix repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh! Erm, yeah, I don't see why not," Hermione fumbled.

"Andy went ahead, said she was too hungry to wait. Are you okay?"

"I was just thinking," Hermione said, her cheeks reddening.

"I'd ask, but I'm pretty sure you can't tell me," Bellatrix responded knowingly, rising from the piano bench.

"You do," Hermione said simply.

"What?" she asked, looking at Hermione with more concern than before.

"Protect her until you die. The person you are essentially dies and you become someone else entirely, but you keep her safe. Narcissa, too."

"Well, at least I managed to do something right," Bellatrix said, a sad smile on her face.

"I didn't mean-" Hermione began.

"It's alright," Bellatrix interrupted, "My sisters are everything to me, and if the only worthwhile thing I do is keep them safe, I'm okay with that."

"You never lived your life for yourself," Hermione observed.

"That was never an option for me," Bellatrix mumbled darkly, turning to leave.

Hermione stood abruptly, reaching out and grabbing Bellatrix's wrist. "Make it one."

Bellatrix looked back, her expression softening when her gaze fell on Hermione's face. It still surprised her how open Hermione was with her, how everything she was feeling was exhibited so plainly in the tilt of her lips and the quirk of her brow. The gentle challenge she offered in everything she did and said. It was magnetic, and she found herself, for the first time, wanting to do something for herself.

"I want to play Quidditch," she finally said.

Hermione smiled, having developed a love-hate relationship with the sport. She had loved cheering on her friends and supporting her house's team even though she hated flying and found the sport slightly barbaric.

"I can't. Father would murder me if he ever found out," Bellatrix added, her shoulders slumping as she made to pull away, but Hermione held firm.

"I spent my entire life doing things for everyone but myself, and I thought I was happy with that. With everything I accomplished, but I'm not. I wasn't. And I got sick of it, of everyone thinking I was happy to put myself aside, of pretending it made me happy. And then I did something for myself for the first time in my life, and I realized just how much I had given up for everyone, and for what? For everyone to tell me how messed up I was? When I was messed up because of what I had done for them. I know why you end up the way you do, because it happened to me, too. Because people who give everything to everyone but themselves lose track of who they are, and that's not a life anyone should live."

Hermione clamped her lips shut, silencing her tirade as she looked at the floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Bellatrix stared at her in surprise, her mind reeling at all the information Hermione had just shared. Her mouth opened and closed, struggling to find something- anything- to say in response. No words came to her, and Hermione continued to stare at the floor with burning cheeks.

Finally, she mustered out, "Will you be there for me?"

Hermione tore her eyes away from the floor, fixating on Bellatrix's face. "Of course."

Bellatrix smiled timidly, mirrored by Hermione as they made their way to their room. They changed quickly, rushing to the Great Hall to make up for the time they had spent talking. Andromeda seemed to not notice how long they had taken to get ready, or she simply ignored it, shoveling food into her mouth in a very unladylike manner. As Hermione watched Andromeda eat, she briefly remembered that Ron was distantly related to the Blacks, and perhaps that was where he acquired his unsavory eating habits. The thought didn't tug at her heart like she had expected it to, it was just an observable fact. She knew she didn't love him, of course, but she still cared for him. They had been close, had been through so much together, and she should miss him, even if she didn't have feelings for him. She hadn't missed anyone while she was in hiding, so it wasn't entirely unexpected that she could think of them without sorrow, but every now and then it crept into her mind.

They remained quiet throughout the meal, eating at different paces. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, and Hermione found herself grateful for the chance to sort out the thoughts whirling in her head. Bellatrix also took the opportunity to sort out her thoughts. She knew Hermione was right, and that she had to do something for herself on occasion, but she found it so difficult to be selfish. She wanted to save her sisters from their father's wrath, and she could only do that if she took the brunt of his 'discipline.' At the same time, she so desperately wanted to live for herself, do things she wanted to because she enjoyed them. Hermione's presence had reinvigorated her desires, and she was a little scared of what would happen. She had spent the better part of fifteen years protecting her sisters, and in that time she had lost sight of her dreams, but Hermione had brought them back into view and she wasn't sure how to feel about that.

Andromeda, for her part, enjoyed Hermione's company and perspective. She had no expectations of pureblood women, so she was never disappointed by the behavior they exhibited. She knew there was more to the story, but she could see how happy and content Bellatrix was, so she didn't ask questions. She wasn't stupid, she knew how much her sister sacrificed to protect them, and she knew she would always protect them, but part of her was angry at Bellatrix for not letting her face the consequences of her actions. She would never despise her sister, at least, she didn't think she would, and she knew Bellatrix wanted them to live better lives than those of pureblood women. She wanted them to be who they wanted to be, do what they wanted to do, and she would make sure Father never focused on them when he was angry. Part of her pitied her sister, because she knew their father had wanted a son as his first child, and so Bellatrix was a constant disappointment to the family, even though she was more incredible than anyone else she knew.

They spent the better part of the day together, not really exchanging words. They were all on edge for various reasons, and there weren't any words to say to make it better. The hours rushed by faster than they realized, and they found themselves changing into their school robes sooner than expected, preparing for their peers to arrive. Hermione's fingers trembled slightly as she fastened her robes, the Slytherin colors unusual but comforting nonetheless. Across the room, Bellatrix was leaning against her bed, fully dressed and waiting for Hermione. She was the picture of elegance and beauty as she observed Hermione fumble with the last clasp.

"May I?" She asked softly, pushing off from the bed and gesturing to the clasp.

"Would you?" Hermione asked, letting her arms fall to her sides in relief.

Bellatrix smiled, standing toe-to-toe with Hermione and lifting her hands to her collar. Her nimble fingers made short work of the troublesome clasp. Absently, she straightened Hermione's tie, her hands lingering on the soft fabric.

"Thanks," Hermione mumbled with pink cheeks.

Without a second thought, she brushed her lips against Hermione's cheek, much like she would her sisters. Unlike with her sisters, her insides tightened and fluttered as her lips barely touched Hermione's soft skin. Hermione's eyes drifted closed at the familiar gesture, her heart increasing its pace. She found herself at a loss for words when Bellatrix pulled away, smiling brightly.

"I'll be right there with you," she reassured.

Hermione simply nodded, falling into step beside Bellatrix as they made their way to the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony and subsequent feast. She had not been around so many people at once in so many years she wasn't sure how she'd feel about being in a packed Great Hall with people whose futures she knew. Socializing had never been her strong suit, not that she was concerned with making friends, but she didn't want to have a panic attack and make a scene on the first night. Hermione scoffed, knowing full well there was no way she would avoid a scene. It was only a matter of time. It always was.

Bellatrix gave her a small smile as they reached the group of returning students filing into the Great Hall, blending in seamlessly and quickly picking out Andromeda squashed between a scrawny Hufflepuff boy and some Ravenclaws. Hermione smirked, wondering if this was how Andromeda had first met Ted. When they entered, Hermione was grateful for Bellatrix's presence as her eyes fell on familiar, albeit younger, faces. There weren't as many as she had expected, and she couldn't help the relief she felt. Andromeda subtly waved them over when she spotted them, gesturing to a seat on either side of her.

"What took you guys so long?" She whispered harshly.

"We got caught up in the crowd. We were only a few people behind you," Bellatrix said, waving off further questions.

"The first years should be here soon. How are you feeling, Hermione?" Andromeda asked, changing the subject.

"Not as bad as I thought I'd be," Hermione admitted.

They descended into silence as the group of first years entered the hall, pressing together nervously under the gaze of the students and professors. The students were quiet save for the expected cheering when one of the students was sorted into a house. Hermione found it a little odd to not cheer for Gryffindors, and more than a little odd to cheer for Slytherins. It was easier when it was just her and Bellatrix and occasionally Andromeda, but it was a lot different when their other housemates were pressing in on her. So far, she had managed to avoid attention, but she knew it was only a matter of time before her blood status was brought to light and she was made a target. She wasn't the scared little girl she used to be, though. She had always been a target, for one reason or another, but after everything that had happened, she was not as willing to ignore the teasing or bullying. It didn't matter if her housemates were better than her, she was tired of people telling her she wasn't good enough. She was tired of believing it.

A discrete nudge from Andromeda brought Hermione back to reality in time to catch the ending of Dumbledore's speech and the beginning of the Welcome Feast. Hermione portioned out some mashed potatoes, ham, and green beans, eating slowly and trying not to watch Bellatrix out of the corner of her eye because all she could see was Andromeda inhaling her food and it made her queasy. Chatter gradually filled the enormous room, coming from every direction and setting Hermione on edge because she wouldn't be able to tell if someone was coming up behind her. Hermione forced herself to relax, telling herself she was being ridiculous. No one was looking for her, or hunting her. She wasn't on the run, there was no war to worry about yet. She was, for once, actually safe at Hogwarts.

"Andy, would you please stop inhaling your food," Bellatrix hissed irately at her sister.

"I'm hungry! And I never get to eat like this at home," Andromeda whined.

"Yes, but we are in the presence of other pure-bloods, you don't want word getting around to Father," Bellatrix whispered.

Andromeda huffed but complied, slowing enough to actually chew her food with some semblance of manners.

"Tough luck, having to sit next to the Blacks," a boy on her right whispered with a grin she assumed was meant to be charming. The two sisters tensed, unseen by Hermione but she felt it none the less.

"I'm quite sure I don't know what you mean," Hermione said, lacing her words with hidden venom.

"You're new, right?" He asked, continuing when Hermione nodded, "Well, they're not exactly the best company. The whole family is a bit...unstable, to put it nicely."

"Better to be unstable to someone's face than whisper nasty things about people you know can hear you. Are you trying to offend them?" Hermione asked.

"They deserve it," the boy said petulantly, his smile faltering.

"And that makes it okay to insult someone without giving them the chance to defend themselves? Have you actually spent time with them? Have you experienced their 'instability' for yourself, or are you relying simply on what you've heard?" Hermione pressed, watching the boy's cheeks color with embarrassment as she not-so-subtly shut down his statements.

"I was only trying to warn you, but if you'd like to keep company with deranged witches over dignified wizards such as myself, that's your choice," he responded, trying to save himself.

"Dignified? You? Don't make me laugh. You seriously expect me to believe that rubbish? I'd much rather be deranged myself than keep company with people who put others down on purpose," Hermione's voice had risen, and she fought to keep her anger in check. She could feel her darker tendencies curling around her, the voice in the back of her head egging her on to hurt the boy, or at the very least, teach him a lesson.

"It's a shame you see things that way. I only hope you come to your senses before it's too late. Blacks are trouble, everyone knows that."

Bellatrix gestured to Andromeda to move, sliding closer to Hermione and whispering in her ear, "Let it go, you don't have to defend me."

Hermione didn't acknowledge that she had heard what Bellatrix whispered to her. Andromeda's gaze shifted between Bellatrix, Hermione, and the boy, anxiety building in the pit of her stomach. The anger she saw on Hermione's face was so disturbing. Such a harsh expression didn't belong on Hermione's normally kind face, but there it was, and she had to admit she felt a little scared.

"What's in a name?" Hermione asked, "Names don't define people."

"Of course they do," the boy scoffed, "The Blacks may be the most respected, but they're losing their power. The name Black doesn't carry the weight it used to. Whereas Lestrange is building its influence, growing enough to one day surpass the Blacks in power."

"Everything great meets its end. All your houses will fall and when that happens, I'll still be here," Hermione said, allowing her sleeve to ride up just enough for the boy to catch a glimpse of her scar. His eyes widened and his face contorted in disgust.

Bellatrix huffed in frustration, roughly grabbing Hermione's arm and pulling her up to usher her out of the Great Hall.

"Careful, Mudblood. She'll hex you worse than I would've," the boy she now assumed to be Rodolphus called.

Hermione couldn't help the rage that coursed through her veins. This was the man that Bellatrix had married, this was the man that had made her into Bellatrix Lestrange. Before she realized what she had done, her wand was pressed firmly under his jaw. She was discrete enough with the action to not draw the attention of any professors, and her eyes were hard as stone as she glared at him. She could feel him shaking through the small movements of her wand definitely not caused by her. Her hands were steady and her gaze was ice cold.

"If you ever insult anyone again I will personally see to it that your family falls," she hissed, accentuating her statement with a painful twist of her wand, "Nod if you understand."

Rodolphus nodded, despite the wood of Hermione's wand digging into his throat at the action. Satisfied, Hermione nodded, hastily turning and storming out of the Great Hall. Bellatrix and Andromeda shared a worried look, both a little afraid of what had just transpired. Andromeda made to chase after her, but Bellatrix pulled her to a stop just outside the Great Hall. She shook her head, trying to give Hermione some time to calm down before she went after her. Andromeda complied, heading in the opposite direction as Hermione and to their Common Room. Hermione cursed herself for giving in to her anger. She hadn't wanted to make a scene even if she had known it would be inevitable, but she didn't even try to let it go. She couldn't. She was tired of letting things go.

"Muddy's pissed," Bellatrix Lestrange cackled, skipping beside her. Hermione ignored her, stomping angrily through the castle. She had no idea where she was going but she really didn't care.

"You should've hexed him. You should've given him a taste of my favorite spell. I know you can do it. I know you mean it," Bellatrix crooned in Hermione's ear.

"Shut up," Hermione growled, increasing her pace in the hopes of outrunning her even if she knew it wasn't possible.

"Teach them all a lesson! You're a fearsome little Mudblood! You can kill them all without even raising your wand!" Bellatrix cackled gleefully. "I've taught you well!"

"I hate you for making me into this. I hate myself for letting it happen." Hermione stopped walking, taking in her surroundings. Moonlight glimmered off the Black Lake, reflections rippling and distorted as gentle waves lapped at the shore. Hermione fell into a seated position, hugging her knees to her chest.

"You hate me, but you love me, too. I gave you power. I showed you how to use it, to bend it to your will," Bellatrix whispered, digging her nails into Hermione's shoulders.

Hermione tried to shrug her off, but the grip tightened and she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to take deep, slow breaths. The grip on her shoulders stayed, but when she opened her eyes, she saw that it was her own hands holding her, her own nails digging through her robes enough to make semi-circle indentations. Hermione sighed, letting her forehead fall onto her knees. It was always just a matter of time.

"Hermione?" Bellatrix called gently. She made her footsteps pronounced so she wouldn't scare her, approaching slowly.

"Are you afraid of me?" Hermione asked bitterly at Bellatrix's slow approach.

"No. I didn't want to startle you."

"Sometimes I think everyone should be."

"Don't say that," Bellatrix whispered, sitting next to Hermione when she made no objection.

"It's true. There are so many times where I'm not myself, where even I'm afraid of me," Hermione said softly.

"Why did you defend me? Us? It's not worth it and now our whole house is going to treat you the same way they treat us."

"They were always going to. I may as well make it clear from the start," Hermione shrugged, "Besides, you and Andy are kind. People should be told when they're wrong, otherwise, they might never realize."

"He wasn't that wrong. My family is losing power, and we do have a history of mental instability."

"He was wrong about you. And Andromeda. You aren't deranged, Bella. He made you deranged."

"What do you mean?" Bellatrix asked, tearing her gaze from the surface of the lake.

Hermione bit her lip, debating how much to say. She had already let information slip to Bellatrix about the future, but she couldn't just tell her everything that happened.

"Hermione, I'm supposed to marry him. That's what you mean, isn't it?" Bellatrix asked, unsure if she should extend a hand to Hermione.

"Yeah," she managed, unable to look at the beautiful witch beside her. She was so intelligent and perceptive. It was impossible for her to hide anything from her because she could figure it out. That thought scared her. She had never been known so well. No one had ever been able to read her, to figure her out. It made her feel vulnerable in ways she had never felt before. Even Bellatrix Lestrange had been scarily good at reading her, pulling her darkness to the surface and showing her everything she was capable of. Hermione laid back, imagining herself on the cold floor of Malfoy Manor. She had always known she had darker tendencies, but she had never acted on them as much as she had since then. With Bellatrix on top of her, carving the letters into her flesh, telling her all that she could be even with her dirty blood.

Bellatrix watched as Hermione's eyes grew distant the moment her back was flat. Worry coursed through her at seeing Hermione so far away, clearly trapped in a memory. Bellatrix wanted to reach out and bring her back, but she was scared of what would happen if she touched her. She had no idea what memory Hermione was reliving, and she could very well be in it. If she startled Hermione by touching her, one of them could get hurt. She let herself fall back, mirroring Hermione's position and turning her head to look at the brunette.

"Hermione," she mumbled, placing her hand halfway between them.

"Why did you try to stop me?" Hermione asked, picking out constellations.

"Because as much as I appreciate you defending me and my sister, I don't want you getting involved. I don't want you getting hurt."

"I can take it," Hermione said stubbornly.

"I never said you can't. But you shouldn't have to," Bellatrix whispered, placing a hand on Hermione's cheek, "You have enough to deal with. Focus on helping yourself for once in your life."

Hermione found herself at a loss for words, staring open-mouthed at Bellatrix. It was similar to the words she had said to Bellatrix earlier, and the significance of that wasn't lost on her. She gave Bellatrix a shy smile, placing her hand on top of the one halfway between them. Bellatrix grinned brightly, nudging Hermione's forehead with her own.