A/N: Hey, everyone. I apologize for not updating sooner. I've been writing but I just haven't been in the mood to update lately, I don't know why. Thanks for being patient with me. I've got a pretty heavy load for the next four-ish months but I'm going to try to make time every day to write and I think I'm going to aim to have an update about every four or five weeks. It might end up being longer (as it so frequently does), but I'll do my best. School always comes first for me, though.
I hope you're all well. Enjoy!
Snape sat in front of Hermione, sipping his tea calmly as he observed the studious brunette witch. He was here at Dumbledore's instruction, though he wasn't sure how much he would be able to help. So far, they hadn't said a word to each other beyond a greeting. He was here to assess, so he would sit patiently in silence and do just that.
Hermione fidgeted more as the silence stretched on, growing impatient. She could feel annoyance bubbling in her chest, fueling the sensation she had been trying so hard to avoid. She was afraid of the anger she felt, afraid of what it might mean, afraid of who she might become. It was increasingly difficult to keep her anger in check as Snape continued to sit there, sipping his tea every so often.
For his part, he could sense her fraying control and was prepared for her anger to reveal itself. He knew Bellatrix didn't want to provoke her anger. He also knew that she knew it was what they needed to do to get it under control. Bellatrix was too attached to Hermione to be able to do it herself. Snape sipped his tea some more, his unreadable gaze fixed on Hermione.
"Why are you here?" she finally snapped, "To stare at me?"
"Dumbledore," was all he said as an explanation, setting his teacup and saucer down.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Obviously."
The corner of his mouth twitched up in amusement. "He sent me to help you with your anger."
"Why you?" she asked, "Do you even have emotions?"
It was said in jest. He could tell by the slight smirk- so much like Bellatrix's- and the twinkle in her eyes which, oddly, reminded him of Dumbledore. His shoulders moved up and down so slightly, she almost missed it.
"You mean you couldn't tell?" he deadpanned.
"So, why you?" Hermione asked, some of her annoyance dissipating with their conversation.
He was quiet for a few minutes before answering, "Dumbledore seems to think I can help you control your anger. I don't know his reasoning behind it. Maybe because I'm the least likely to respond emotionally."
"And how exactly do you plan to help me?" she asked skeptically.
"By making you angry," he responded, reaching again for his tea, "And finding out what's powering it."
Hermione frowned at him, uncertainty filling her. Logically, she understood the value of finding out the source, but she was afraid that she would lose herself to it. Her hand played with the key on her necklace and she chewed her lip. If she didn't at least try, she would never know if it would work, so she nodded.
Snape took one last sip of his tea, finishing off the drink. "Let's go."
"Erm, go where?" she asked, standing up to follow him.
He didn't answer, and she huffed in annoyance. She knew he would purposely pushing her to get angry, but that didn't make it any better. Still, she followed him through Black Manor and out into the garden. It was a rather hot day, and she felt her irritation rise as soon as she was outside.
Snape stopped abruptly and turned to her, finding that she had nearly walked into him. He arched a brow at her, and she just squinted up at him with a slight frown. Still facing her, he backed away a few paces.
"There is a flag hidden somewhere in the garden. Find it," he ordered, offering no other explanation.
She looked at him with her mouth hanging open. "Where should I start?"
He just shrugged, evenly meeting her gaze. She huffed, trudging off to look for the flag. He turned to walk to the porch, joining Andromeda and Narcissa.
"I hope you can handle the anger she'll direct at you," Narcissa said.
Andromeda nodded, murmuring into her glass of lemonade, "I once saw her threaten to be the ruin of the Lestrange family while digging her wand into his neck. It was terrifying, she almost looked like she would kill him."
"Interesting," he murmured, leaning back in his chair.
Hermione groaned as she searched the massive garden for a stupid flag. She was sweaty and had scraped her arm on a rose bush. If she had less sense about her, she would've set it on fire, but she knew she would feel bad about upsetting the blonde witch. If she had been paying attention, she would've realized it had thorns and wouldn't have tried to look in the bush for the flag. Hermione wondered if there even was a flag. The sun was blazing overhead and she could feel sweat down her back as she continued. She brushed her hair out of her face, the action in vain as it stuck to her cheeks and forehead.
"Unbelievable," she grumbled to herself.
"Isn't it?" Bellatrix asked, suddenly right next to her.
Only...This wasn't her Bellatrix. This Bellatrix was a predator. Her smile, the gleam in her eyes, the way she effortlessly strode forward all made Hermione feel like prey. Hermione stumbled back, feeling her blood run cold. There was no way she could outrun her, and no way she could win in a fight.
Bellatrix pouted, asking in a huff, "Didn't you miss me, pet?"
"N-no," she stuttered, still walking backward away from her, but further from the house.
"Don't look so afraid, muddy. You might not remember, but I do," she stopped, twirling her hair around her bent wand, "This is all you."
Hermione felt her heel hit a root, and she barely caught herself from falling but found her back suddenly pressed against the trunk of a tree. "What do you want from me?"
Bellatrix cackled, throwing her head back and causing Hermione to press herself further into the tree. She abruptly fell silent, tilting her head in the direction of the house. Hermione heard it, too.
"He's coming," Bellatrix whispered, somehow right in Hermione's ear, "Don't you remember what he did? Don't you remember that he was a Death Eater? He killed Dumbledore, he betrayed the Order. Who's to say he won't do it again?"
A rush of anger flowed through Hermione, and her wand slid into her hand on instinct. She felt more grounded with the acacia in her hand, but Bellatrix was still there, still whispering in her ear. Snape was getting closer now, it was only a matter of time before he stumbled across her, but...Could she really trust him to help her? He had pushed her to this state, and for what? Maybe he was trying to drive her mad so she wouldn't be able to help.
"That's it," Bellatrix cooed as Hermione raised her wand.
Snape stopped, standing calmly a few meters away from Hermione. He hadn't been expecting a wand to be pointed at him, but he would manage. Hermione didn't look like she would attack him, so long as he didn't give her a reason to. This would be on her terms, and he was okay with that. The alternative was having to duel her, and while he believed she was capable, he didn't want to resort to such tactics.
"Ah, the Death Eater's wife, the Death Eater's sister," Bellatrix whispered when Narcissa appeared a few moments later, "She still married a Death Eater this time around. How can you be sure she didn't help him escape? She didn't want you going to the house, maybe she knew."
Hermione directed her wand at Narcissa, unsure of why she was doing this. The blonde witch stopped, making a move to reach for her wand until Snape shook his head at her. Hermione's gaze was wild, nothing like what either of them was used to. She was pressed into the tree as far as she could go, her wand arm trembling as she held it out and her free hand gripping the tree so hard her nails had broken. Snape was certain Hermione wouldn't do anything unless she felt threatened. Her body language did not indicate that she was angry, it indicated she was afraid.
"Hermione," he said, taking a step forward and immediately freezing when she pointed her wand back at him, "I know you're afraid-"
"AFRAID?!" Bellatrix screamed in her ear, "You should curse him where he stands!"
Hermione flinched, and Snape fell silent. It had been the wrong thing to say, but not to Hermione. She hadn't flinched away from him, she had flinched away from something next to her. There was nobody there that he could see, and the property was so secure he didn't think anyone had broken in and disguised themselves. No, whatever it was had to be in Hermione's head.
Narcissa had come to the same conclusion and she stayed still as she gently asked, "What do you need us to do, Hermione?"
"Leave, she whispered, tears in her eyes, "Please."
"You can come find me when you're ready," she softly assured.
Snape, however, stayed where he was. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Professor," she began shakily, "Are you a Death Eater?"
He sighed but answered with his usual drawl, "I was. After Lily died, I was distraught and Dumbledore gave me a chance. He offered me the choice to spy for the Order. I accepted."
"He did the same last time," Bellatrix hissed.
Hermione wished she could ignore her. "How can I believe you?"
"I joined the Death Eaters because I was promised Lily would be mine. It wasn't the right choice, but I wanted her so bad it didn't matter." He took a deep breath. "When she died, I had no reason to be a Death Eater, but it isn't so easy to just stop being one. I was fortunate Dumbledore offered me a chance to redeem myself. To make a better choice."
She regarded him skeptically. He stood passively, keeping his face devoid of emotion. He was getting a better idea of what was happening with Hermione. He needed to know what Hermione was perceiving next to her, but he knew better than to ask right now. His main goal was getting her to calm down.
"He lies," Bellatrix murmured in her ear, "He killed Dumbledore, the man who gave him a chance."
"Hermione," he said, noticing the way she moved toward what she had flinched away from earlier, "If he killed Bella, wouldn't you do everything you could to stop him?"
"I-I would," she whispered, the Bellatrix at her side snarling as her arm wavered.
He nodded, taking a cautious step forward. "Isn't that exactly what you're doing?"
Her arm lowered a little more as she murmured, "Yes."
"It's okay to doubt us," he assured, "It's okay to question us. It's okay to be afraid."
She swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to banish the tears in her eyes. The image of Bellatrix was fading, her words were growing quieter. She was still wary of him, but her arm was growing tired and the logical side of her was returning slowly.
"I don't want to become like that," she admitted, her voice breaking.
He stepped closer. "Like what?"
"Like-like her." Hermione stayed where she was, but let him approach.
"Can you tell me who?" Snape asked.
She closed her eyes and bit her lip, shaking her head hard.
"Okay," he whispered, "That's okay. When you're ready, you can tell me."
"Professor? Was there ever a flag?" she asked.
He couldn't help the chuckle that left him. "No."
She nodded, not seeming surprised by the information. "I figured."
"Go on inside. We'll continue in a few days," he instructed.
She nodded, really wanting a shower. Hermione also knew she should see Narcissa. The scratches on her arm hurt, and she didn't want to assume it was a normal rose bush. She supposed she should also offer an explanation. The blonde was on the porch with Andromeda, both witches looking up when they heard her approaching. Hermione waved awkwardly, unsure of how to begin.
"How are you feeling?" Narcissa asked softly, her sharp eyes falling on the scratches, "Merlin, what happened?"
"Rose bush," she muttered, looking down at her arm and ignoring the first question.
Narcissa beckoned her over. Hermione sat down, holding her arm out. Narcissa's hands were gentle and cool as she grabbed her arm, turning it over to inspect the damage.
"Have some water," Andromeda suggested, sliding a glass toward her.
Hermione took it gratefully, trying not to chug the whole glass. "Thanks. Can we- can we talk about what happened?"
"Only if you're ready to," Narcissa answered, dragging her thumb lightly over the scratches on Hermione's arm and watching as they closed.
She kept her eyes on the table as she said, "I need to. In my original timeline, Bella was a Death Eater. Cissa, you were on Voldemort's side because of Bella and Lucius...And Draco."
She heard a sharp intake of breath as Narcissa's hands stilled. She glanced up at Andromeda first, then Narcissa. Both of them were staring at her in shock.
"A lot...happened. But after the war, I...I wasn't well," Hermione looked at the table, swallowing hard, "I was more prone to anger. I got...better when I was at Hogwarts with Bella, but there's so much in my head now, and I can barely keep things straight, and it's harder to keep that anger from taking over."
The two sisters shared a concerned look. Narcissa placed her fingers on Hermione's cheek, prompting her to look up.
"It can't be easy to have so much on your mind. I couldn't even begin to imagine what the complete knowledge of what would've happened would do to me." She paused. "You do not have to cope with it alone. You don't have to tell us everything, but if you just need someone to listen, someone other than Bella, we are here for you."
Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes as she admitted, "I'm afraid of it."
Strong arms pulled her into a hug before she could react, and she pressed her face into Narcissa's shoulder. Andromeda moved behind her, rubbing her back soothingly.
"It's okay to be afraid," Andromeda murmured, "We all are."
"Let me finish healing those scratches and you can go inside and rest, okay?" Narcissa said into Hermione's hair.
She felt the younger witch nod and pull away. Narcissa took Hermione's arm in her hands again and continued healing her arm until there were no scratches left. The brunette offered her a timid smile as thanks, which she returned before shooing her inside. Hermione welcomed the cool air of the house, letting out a sigh and feeling some of the tension leave her shoulders. It was quiet and empty as she ascended the stairs, pushing open her door and letting it close behind her.
Her room was dark, which she welcomed after being outside in the sun. It did take a while for her eyes to adjust, which she spent undressing to take a shower. The bathroom was connected to her room by a door, and at first, she had found it odd that she didn't even have to leave her room, but right now, she welcomed it. The shower started running as soon as she opened the door, heating itself to her desired temperature. Magic never ceased to amaze her, particularly the magic in Black Manor. The house always seemed to know exactly what she wanted and did its best to provide.
Hermione tested the water with her hand, deciding it was neither too cold nor too hot, and getting in. She took her time washing the dirt and sweat out of her hair and off her skin, the lavender scent of her shampoo reminding her of Bellatrix. Idly, she wondered where the dark-haired witch was. She hadn't seen her all day, not even at breakfast, which was an uncommon occurrence in and of itself. Hermione suddenly desired the comfort she provided, the stability and reason she felt slipping from her own grasp sometimes.
As soon as her foot touched the slightly cold tile, Hermione was dry. She wrapped herself in a towel anyway, enjoying the softness of it against her skin. She pulled on shorts and a loose shirt, padding out of her room and to Bellatrix's door. Hermione hesitated, wondering if she should knock or just go in. She didn't know if Bellatrix was even in her room, and she had been told that she was always welcome to enter without knocking. Pushing open the door, Hermione slipped into the room, closing the door silently behind her.
Bellatrix's room looked exactly as she had pictured it would, dark furniture, green drapes, a large bed with a soft silver blanket, and a touch of disarray. With a small smile, Hermione slid under the blanket, sinking into the soft mattress and marveling at the coolness of her sheets. She pulled one of Bellatrix's pillows to her, curling around it and letting her eyes close with a sigh. Hermione felt safe in Bellatrix's room, her body relaxing of its own accord. With a yawn, she nestled further into the bed.
Against her better judgment, Bellatrix had gone back to Azkaban. Not to see Rodolphus, but to see Lucius. Really, there were countless Death Eaters to choose from, but she didn't have as much of an effect on them as she did on the man she was supposed to marry and her youngest sister's husband. She had hoped to find out more about the Horcruxes, and possibly Hermione, but Lucius had been less helpful than Rodolphus. It hadn't been a good day for him, she surmised. It happened to the prisoners, and she shuddered to think that might've been her. Some days, they were able to handle a simple conversation, and others, they could barely do more than sit and drool.
Bellatrix wouldn't try again anytime soon. It took a lot out of her to go there, and she honestly wasn't sure how she had gotten through that part of being an Auror. She was glad it was before Sirius had been wrongfully sentenced. Her cousin still had bad days, but they weren't as bad as when he had first escaped. The mania surrounding him had calmed somewhat, and he seemed relatively stable.
"Anything?" Dumbledore asked, offering her a hand out of the boat.
She shook her head with a frown, taking his hand to pull herself out of the boat. "What about you?"
He shrugged. "Nothing particularly promising, yet. I do think I'm onto something, though."
"Okay," she said with a nod.
"How did she take the news?" he asked.
Bellatrix winced. "She doesn't know, yet. I was going to, but she has so much other stuff on her plate, Albus, I don't want to add more to it."
"I understand, Bellatrix," he assured, "I will keep looking and hopefully I'll know something soon. I'll let you know if I find anything."
"Thank you, Albus," she said, "And you're sure Snape is the right choice to help her?"
He nodded. "I am."
"Okay," she breathed, running a hand through her hair, "I'm going to go home and get some rest."
He waved goodbye as she turned on her heel. Bellatrix breathed a sigh of relief as she appeared in her room. Today's trip had not been nearly as bad as the last one, it just took so long to get there that she ended up wasting most of her day. She was glad to be back, her eyes catching on a lump on her bed. Bellatrix pulled the blanket back enough to reveal a mass of brown hair and she smiled fondly as she realized it was just Hermione. The witch stirred, tightening her grip on Bellatrix's pillow and burying her face further. Bellatrix replaced the blanket, trying to be as quiet as possible as she searched her room for clothes more suited to relaxing at home. She tried to change quietly, but she knocked into her wardrobe as she pulled on her shirt.
"Where were you today?" came Hermione's muffled question, her words slightly slurred by sleep.
She froze, hesitantly saying, "Azkaban."
"You went back?" Hermione asked, turning- with the pillow still cradled to her- so she could see Bellatrix.
"Just to check on something," Bellatrix said, smoothing Hermione's hair down.
She leaned into her touch. "Is everything okay?"
"Not entirely," she mumbled, "But I'd rather not talk about it right now."
"Come here?" Hermione asked, moving the pillow out of her arms to make room for Bellatrix.
"How was your day?" she asked softly, smiling as Hermione pulled her closer.
She buried her face in thick curls and mumbled, "It was tough. I needed to feel closer to you, I hope it's okay."
"I told you that you're always welcome. Did you make any progress with Snape?"
"I dunno." She shrugged. "I think so. He said he'll be back in a few days and we'll pick up where we left off."
Bellatrix sensed the unease in Hermione's voice and stroked her shoulders soothingly. "As long as you can handle it."
"Bella? I- erm- remember when I got mad at Harry and Ron and you calmed me down? How did you- how did you know that I heard a voice?" Her voice was small and uncertain as she spoke.
"You told me about it once," she mumbled, "That sometimes when you get angry you see her, and she makes it worse."
She felt Hermione nod. Bellatrix continued to stroke Hermione's shoulders, her thoughts wandering in the silence. After several minutes, she craned her head to look at Hermione.
"Let's do something tomorrow, just the two of us. How does that sound?" Bellatrix asked.
"That sounds nice," Hermione whispered, a small smile on her face.
Bellatrix brushed a stray strand of hair behind Hermione's ear, matching her smile. Hermione blushed, leaning forward and brushing Bellatrix's nose with her own. She heard the older witch's breath catch, and her lips moved a hair closer to hers before she caught herself and pulled away. They had yet to cross that line, somehow, but Hermione found it harder to resist every time.
"It's really hard not to kiss you," she breathed, looking down at ruby lips.
"I know what you mean," Bellatrix responded, "But if I kissed you, I don't think I'd want to stop there."
Hermione gulped, imagining all the things Bellatrix might do to her. Hermione's mouth grew dry and she felt her body grow hotter. Merlin, she wanted it, she realized, further tempted to press her lips to Bellatrix's. Sensing her train of thought, Bellatrix created more distance between them, sitting up and running a hand through her hair. Until she met Hermione, she had never imagined wanting anyone so much.
Hermione sat up, too, pulling the pillow into her lap. She looked down at her hands, fidgeting with her fingers.
"Is it wrong of me to be glad that you weren't there today?" she mumbled, not looking up.
"No," Bellatrix answered, "I'm glad you weren't there with me. We don't have to share everything, Hermione. If it takes time for you to be ready, take all the time you need."
Hermione nodded, looking up at her. "The other Horcrux isn't in the Lestrange vault, is it?"
"No," she whispered, pursing her lips, "It's not."
"I thought it was weird you hadn't brought it up." Hermione gripped the pillow tightly. "What if everything is different?"
Bellatrix thought for a moment. "Well, we know that not everything is different because of the locket. It could just be that he didn't trust Lestrange."
"I suppose. Something just feels off about it. I mean, if Rodolphus is his most trusted, why not him?" Hermione mused, "It doesn't make sense."
She didn't say anything, chewing her lip. Hermione looked over at her, narrowing her eyes.
"What?" she asked the older witch.
"I-" Bellatrix sighed, shaking her head, "I don't want to add more weight to your shoulders, but...when I went to talk to Rodolphus last week, he knew about you. That you came back in time."
Hermione stared at her, dumbstruck for a moment as the realization sank in. "What?! How?!"
"I dunno," she whispered, shaking her head, "Dumbledore is looking into it."
"Bella, if he told Voldemort, that means everything I remember could be wrong!" Hermione let her head hit the headboard, throwing the pillow across the room.
Bellatrix pinched the bridge of her nose. "I know. But he doesn't know how things happened the first time. It could just be a coincidence. The locket was still the same, so everything that happened before 1970 still would've happened as it did."
"I don't know when any of the Horcruxes were created, Bella! Just Harry!" she exclaimed.
"And he's still a Horcrux, just like he was, so maybe he never told Voldemort," she said, trying to soothe Hermione, "This war has been going on for decades, Hermione. Everything that happened prior to you is the same."
A dark chuckle echoed in Hermione's ears and she reached over, clutching Bellatrix's arm. She noticed the tension in the younger witch and gently dislodged her arm, threading their hands together.
"What a troublesome situation," the vision of Bellatrix mock pouted, "Things are not as easy as you thought they'd be. They never are, are they?"
"Hermione," Bellatrix whispered in her ear, "You're safe. Nothing can hurt you here."
The other Bellatrix cackled. "No one is safe. You can't protect them, you don't even know if what you're telling them is right."
Hermione squeezed her hand tightly, swallowing hard and moving closer to her. She pulled Hermione into her arms, whispering nothings in her ear. Her feet kicked at the bed as she tried to scoot further away from what she saw. Bellatrix held fast, shifting so she was right in front of Hermione.
"Breathe," she urged, "She can't hurt you anymore. Once we know how he found out, we can go forward. Until then, let's just continue as we have been."
Wide brown eyes flicked to her, filled with fear. Bellatrix met her gaze reassuringly, running her hands up and down the younger witch's arms to soothe her. Gradually, they focused on her, the tension slowly leaving her body. Her chest was heaving and she was clutching Bellatrix so tightly her nails had drawn blood.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled, loosening her grip.
"Don't worry about it. Are you okay?" she asked, cupping her face tenderly.
Hermione nodded uncertainly, breathing out, "Thank you."
Bellatrix breathed a sigh of relief, pulling Hermione's head to her shoulder and hugging her tightly. Hermione gripped her shoulders, burying her face into the skin of her neck. The coolness seeped into her, soothing her.
Tears formed in her eyes as she mumbled, "It's getting worse."
She didn't know what to say, so she just pulled Hermione closer, holding her tightly as she began crying. Sobs shook her body as tears rolled down her cheeks, soaking Bellatrix's neck and shoulder. The older witch just held her while her heart ached to see Hermione so distraught. Words wouldn't make Hermione feel better right now, she just needed to let it all out. She slowly rocked back-and-forth with Hermione cradled to her, humming a lullaby she used to sing to her sisters when they couldn't sleep.
"I don't want to feel like this any longer, Bella," Hermione sniffled, "I need to see Snape again."
"I'll send for him tomorrow," she assured, "And if you need to stay with me tonight, you can."
Hermione nodded, pulling away and fixing her eyes on the blanket as she mumbled, "I suppose we should go to dinner."
Bellatrix swallowed hard, feeling her pulse pound against the skin of her neck. Clearing her throat, she managed, "Yes, we should."
Both witches were subdued during dinner, not unnoticed by Narcissa and Draco. They let them be, talking to each other but leaving it open for either of them to join in. Hermione picked at her food, occasionally catching Narcissa's eye and eating when she motioned to her. Bellatrix ate with her left hand, her right hand holding Hermione's as she sent reassuring smiles to the younger witch. Hermione was grateful for it but it wasn't enough to make her feel like herself.
"Come here," Bellatrix whispered, lacing her fingers through Hermione's and pulling her toward the bed, "Let's get some sleep."
She allowed the pull, placing her cheek against Bellatrix's collarbone and wrapping her arms around her waist and whispering, "It's the version of you that you would've become that I see."
"I know, darling," she mumbled into Hermione's hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
Hermione nodded, squeezing the older witch. Bellatrix squeezed her back, nudging her toward the bed. She complied with a small smile, sighing as the sheets touched her skin. Bellatrix chuckled, tapping her lightly so she would move over. When she was comfortable, she held her arms open, draping them around the brunette.
"Your bed is better than mine," Hermione playfully grumbled.
"Oh? Why's that?" Bellatrix whispered.
Her cheeks flushed as she stretched her neck so her words hit Bellatrix's ear, "Because it has you in it."
A shudder went through her and her breath caught in her throat as Hermione's breath tickled her ear. "Is that all?"
"I like your sheets more, too," she chuckled, biting her lip as she relaxed, her cheeks still red.
"Now that, I can arrange," Bellatrix said, "What color would you like?"
Hermione pushed herself partially up, stopping when Bellatrix tightened her arms. "Bella, no, you don't have to. What I have is more than enough."
She chuckled, urging Hermione to relax. "I know I don't have to. I want to. If you want something, just ask for it."
"You're all I want," she mumbled, her cheeks still burning.
Bellatrix smiled at her, the flush of the younger witch's cheeks making her more beautiful. "You've had me since 1965."
She hid her face in her pillow, barely restraining from kissing Bellatrix. She wanted to so badly. She was okay with it if things didn't stop with a kiss, she didn't want to be with anyone other than Bellatrix. But she knew it wouldn't be smart considering that when school started, Bellatrix would be her teacher. The older witch seemed to sense her train of thought, rubbing her shoulders.
She yawned, turning her head so her cheek was against the pillow, facing Bellatrix. Bellatrix chuckled, humming a lullaby so Hermione would fall asleep faster. She felt herself dozing off after a while, checking to see if the brunette was asleep. Her face was relaxed, all traces of tension gone and her breathing was even and soft.
Beautiful, Bellatrix thought as her eyes drifted over Hermione's face, lingering on her slightly parted lips.
Before the temptation to lean down and softly press her lips against Hermione's grew too strong, she turned her head back to the ceiling. With a sigh, she closed her eyes, shifting a little so Hermione's head was more on her shoulder. In her sleep, Hermione nuzzled into Bellatrix, sighing softly. Bellatrix hummed as the breath tickled her ear, willing herself to fall asleep.
A small moan pulled Hermione from the last grips of sleep, echoing in her mind as she stared at the skin of Bellatrix's neck. She swallowed hard as she realized that her hand had moved under Bellatrix's shirt during the night, her fingertips brushing against the soft skin of her breasts. Hermione marveled at the softness, her breath catching in her throat as she forced herself to extricate her hand. Her breaths were shaky as she placed her hand on Bellatrix's shoulder. The older witch began to stir and Hermione held her breath.
"Goo' mornin'" Bellatrix slurred, "Sleep okay?"
"Mhm," Hermione nodded stiffly, holding her body as still as possible.
She yawned, running her hand over Hermione's back, breathing, "You're so tense, are you sure?"
Hermione nodded again, swallowing hard. "Just- erm- anxious."
"Do you want me to be there when you meet with Snape?" Bellatrix disentangled herself from Hermione, stretching her arms above her head.
It took her a moment to respond, distracted by the tautness of the older witch's muscles. "Erm, no. I think it's something I need to do without you there."
Bellatrix nodded, throwing the blanket off her and rising from the bed. She could feel Hermione's eyes on her, moving down her back, lingering on the muscles of her legs. She turned once she had grabbed her robes, watching Hermione's eyes flick up to hers at being caught. She smirked at the attention from the blushing witch, causing her face to turn an even darker shade of red.
"Might want to get ready," she suggested before sauntering into her adjacent bathroom.
Hermione groaned, both out of the desire to stay in bed and her desire for the other witch. She pressed her hand against her forehead, staring at the ceiling as she replayed how soft Bellatrix was. She wanted to explore every piece of the older witch, memorize all her soft spots. Hermione groaned again, throwing the blanket off of her, welcoming the rush of air the action brought. She needed to go even though she wanted to stay. Throwing her legs over the edge of the bed, Hermione forced herself up, casting a glance behind her at the bathroom door. She frowned to herself, pushing open the door to Bellatrix's room and emerging into the corridor.
She padded across the corridor and into her own room, welcoming the soft carpet after the slightly cold polished wood floor of the corridor. Hermione decided to dress in Muggle clothes rather than robes, choosing a pair of jeans and a Queen t-shirt. It was her father's, and she remembered when he gave her the shirt, how the hem of it went past her knees. She had worn it as a nightgown until she had gotten taller. Now, it fit more like a normal shirt, but it was still a little large for her. Not spending the summer with her parents was strange and she decided to write to them after working with Snape. Maybe she could invite them to dinner sometime. They had met Narcissa once or twice while shopping in Diagon Alley.
Snape was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, his face neutral as always as he drawled, "Ready?"
"What about breakfast?" she asked, coming to a stop in front of him.
He raised a brow at her, and she inwardly sighed.
"Okay, I'm ready. But you can't expect me to skip lunch," Hermione said, drawing a slight chuckle from the serious wizard.
"I suppose I can allow you to take a break around lunchtime," he agreed, leading her to one of the many rooms on the ground floor.
Hermione followed dutifully, wondering if Snape had missed breakfast because of her and that's why he was insistent about getting to work. They both could've eaten with everyone else, but perhaps he wanted to be grumpy. Or he wanted her to be grumpy. Hermione sat across from him glancing around the room at the portraits on the walls in an attempt to stall.
"Are we going to look at the walls all day?" he asked, bracing his elbows on his knees and leaning forward.
"No," she frowned, "There was an...incident last night and I- I don't want to feel so angry all the time."
He regarded her for a moment. "And are you willing to talk about what happened yesterday?"
Hermione nodded, taking a deep breath before saying, "When I'm angry- really angry- I see Bellatrix."
Snape arched a brow at her use of the full name rather than the nickname. "I'm guessing you're referring to who she would have been?"
"Who she was," Hermione corrected, "I think. I'm not sure where it falls in the timeline. Anyway, in one of the timelines, she was a Death Eater, and she...tortured me. She died...during the war...but she never really left me. She would be there sometimes, especially when I would get angry."
She furrowed her brows, shifting her gaze to her hands. "I was angry a lot, I think. And I'm angry a lot now that I know the memories are there. Even though I only have fragments of things, there are some complete pieces. I-I'm afraid of her."
"Are you?" he asked, leaning back.
"How could I not be?" she retorted, flicking her eyes up to him.
He made a calming motion with his hands, prompting her to take a deep breath. "Allow me to rephrase what I meant. Is it specifically that version of Bellatrix that you're afraid of, or are you afraid of what she represents?"
Hermione sat up straighter, her eyebrows pulling together as she frowned in thought. "What's the difference?"
"Well," he answered, "That version of Bellatrix is who she was. What she represents is perhaps something deeper. It could be that she represents a part of you that you don't wish to acknowledge, a part of you that you perceive as evil or bad and you subconsciously disguise it as something else."
She pulled her knees to her chest, her toes hanging off the seat of the chair. Was he right? How could she tell the difference? She was sure if she came across that version of Bellatrix, there would be some fear. Would it be the same, though? Hermione didn't think so. She closed her eyes, thinking back to how exactly she had felt in those moments. Given her interference in the timeline, Bellatrix would never become that version of herself. Even though she had remembered some of what had happened to her, as soon as they were written down, they were gone, and they were generally only helpful memories. There was some magic- presumably the same kind that sent her back- protecting her from reliving all the horrors she had no doubt faced.
"How do I find out what she represents?" Hermione asked after her moment of introspection.
Snape inhaled through his nose slowly. "You have faced a Boggart before?"
She nodded, cocking her head to the side. "It was McGonagall telling me I failed my exams. During the OWLs."
He made a thoughtful noise, steepling his fingers in front of his face. "Oftentimes people have more than one thing they are afraid of. On the surface, you are terrified of failure, but that fear may stem from something else entirely. Something the Boggart didn't have time to sense given the constraints of the exam. I think, if given enough time, a Boggart will be able to reveal the core of the fear you feel when you see Bellatrix."
Hermione paled, feeling her blood run cold. "What?"
"It will be no easy task," he continued, choosing not to acknowledge her reaction, "Willingly facing your deepest fears is difficult, but you will not be in danger of physical harm."
"Wait a minute!" she demanded, jumping to her feet, "Isn't there a way that's a little more gradual?"
Snape tilted his head to look up at her, fixing her with a stony expression as he said in a low voice, "As I'm sure you're quite well aware, we are at war. You are a key component of our team and we need you at your best. The fact is Peter Pettigrew has not been caught and could theoretically revive Voldemort any day. You do not have the luxury of time, I'm afraid."
"But if we caught him-" she protested.
"And if we don't?" he interjected, "He's evaded detection for over a decade. There is no guarantee he will be caught before he has a chance to bring Voldemort back. And what then? We have it easy right now, but when he's back, things will be much harder."
Hermione glared at him, turning and stomping out of the room. He let her go with a sigh, sinking into his chair. She wasn't angry, at least. He wondered if Dumbledore knew what he had asked of him. Still, he knew Hermione would eventually agree to his idea, so he saw no reason to wait for her answer. It would be a waste of his time, time which he could spend getting a Boggart.
As she stomped around a corner, she plowed into Draco who steadied her by her shoulders and said, "Easy, there. You okay?"
"Not really," she grumbled, finding herself having to look slightly up at him.
"Let's hang out. It's been a while since we did something fun. We hardly even get to train together." He smiled down at her, prodding her shoulders until a smile spread across her face against her will.
She swatted his hand away playfully. "Okay, fine, but only if you quit it."
He laughed, glancing up and down the corridor. "Follow me."
"Where are we going?" she asked, nearly tripping when he pulled her along.
"Outside," he said simply, smirking back at her, "I know you aren't keen on riding a broom, but it buys us the most time to catch up."
She groaned but still followed him to the broom shed. He thrust a sleek black broom into her hands, one she recognized as the one from their second year. In his own hand was the new broom he got for Christmas. He grinned at her, mounting it and pushing off, waiting for her to follow. She looked longingly at the ground before she followed suit, hovering shakily. It had been a long time since she had been on a broom, and she found herself recalling flying with Bellatrix, her motions steadying.
"Have you been sneaking out to practice?" he teased.
She laughed, causing him to smile in success. "Maybe I'm out to get a spot on the Quidditch team."
"Yeah, right. Though you'd make a fair Beater, especially if you were angry," he said before streaking away.
Hermione leaned forward, urging her broom into action. His broom was newer and much faster than hers, but she managed to close some of the distance between him before he slowed to allow her to catch up. She refused to look down, but they were well above the tree-tops and she was sure if she looked, she would be able to see the entire house and garden. They hovered side-by-side, suspended in a moment where they could allow themselves not to feel the pressures of the war.
"Peaceful, isn't it?" she asked him, looking over at him. His hair was tousled and his cheeks were slightly pink from the wind and she imagined she looked to be in a similar state.
He nodded, looking to the horizon ahead of them. "It's almost like we haven't been foiling Voldemort for the past four years."
"What do you think it's like?" Hermione asked, hesitantly letting go of her broom and letting them rest at her sides when she didn't immediately lose her balance.
"Hmmm," he mused, "A bit boring, actually."
She found herself agreeing with him, even with her current dilemma.
"Would you rather be like the other students?" he asked, turning to face her.
Hermione shrugged, sucking in a breath and grabbing her broom when she felt herself begin to fall. "I dunno. Sometimes I think it might be nice, but then I think about it more and I realize none of this would be possible. Maybe I wouldn't have survived the war. Maybe I would've decided to stay in the Muggle world when things got bad. Maybe Voldemort would've won the first time around. At least by choosing to fight it's on my terms. So, I guess to answer your question: no, I wouldn't rather be like our peers."
"For what it's worth, I'm glad you chose to fight. It means we got a chance to become friends," he said, turning back to the horizon and spreading his arms out to the side.
She wondered how he managed to keep his balance like that since she could barely do anything even when she was holding on. "I think...I think I'm glad, too. I have so much worth fighting for, more than I had last time around. Even though I sometimes feel like it wasn't my decision, I know it was. It is. If I wanted to, I could walk away from it all. But, if I did that, I wouldn't really be me, would I?"
It was a rhetorical question, but he answered, anyway, "Definitely not. I know what you mean, though. Sometimes it seems like it isn't really much of a choice because the alternative is so shitty it doesn't even feel like an option. It's only natural to choose to fight."
"Hey, Draco?" she asked, "Would you...help me face a Boggart?"
"Of course," he answered, placing his hands back on his broom.
She glanced behind them, catching sight of someone flying toward them. "Looks like Bella is here to fetch us."
Draco nodded and they flew down to meet her, drawing to a stop in front of her. She fixed them with an arched brow and a slight smirk, equally scolding and understanding. They needed to get away from it all, she had done the same when she was younger. Sometimes she still went for a fly in the hours where most people were sleeping. It was a different kind of peace.
"I get it," she said, surprising both of them.
They shared a look and Draco asked, "You aren't going to scold us?"
Bellatrix laughed, her shoulders shaking with the motion as she shook her head. "You're both old enough to know the consequences of what you do and take responsibility for them. Given the circumstances, I'd say you're both allowed to get away from everything for a bit. Are you both okay?"
"Better, now," Hermione said while Draco nodded.
"That's all that matters," she said, "Shall we go back?"
Draco, feeling competitive, challenged, "Race you, Auntie Bella!"
"You're on," she said with a grin, sending Hermione a wink as she turned around.
They counted down from three, both taking off and speeding toward the house. Hermione followed at a slower pace, but she could see Bellatrix touch down first, pumping her broom up and down in the air as Draco dismounted. She clapped him on the back, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Hermione when she landed. She laughed at the mock pout on Draco's face as he took the broom from her and stored them back in the broom shed.
"Severus left for the day, but he said he'll need at least a week to prepare," Bellatrix whispered, "So the rest of your day is free to spend however you please."
"Bella? Can I-" Hermione bit her lip, looking slightly up at her, "Can I invite my parents for dinner sometime?"
She threw her arm around the younger witch's shoulders, giving them a squeeze as she said, "Of course, you can. Why don't you write to them and see if they're free next weekend? That way we all have time to prepare."
"Thank you," she mumbled, leaning her head against Bellatrix's shoulder.