Hope you are all well. If you can, please review the story. I would appreciate it a lot. Harry Potter characters do not belong to me. Trigger warning for violence, torture, and gore.
"When I woke the darkness was so thick,
So palpable and black that my eyes
Seemed blind as stone staring into stone."
The Wound/Tom Sleigh
Fifth Year
Umbridge was making life at Hogwarts unbearable and terrifying. Terrifying in a way you could feel a pit in the bottom of your stomach or a knot around your throat.
Even if Hermione had never liked divination, she could accept that Umbridge's presence at Hogwarts was a bad omen.
Her presence symbolized the watchful eye of the Ministry of Magic. A ministry that was full of distrust and a hunger to control.
Something wasn't right.
You could feel it in the air.
A sense of defeat and terror.
Voldemort was back, that could not be denied.
Even if Fudge had been trying to hide under a facade of omnipotent righteousness, his thickest veil would crumble eventually.
He could hide behind several public decreetsts of untrue safety, but dearly danger always catches up on running prey.
In these troubled times, one may have thought politics were useless in an upcoming war, but they were a game that could collapse or cage an entire armed conflict.
Ever since Sirius ignored plea of innocence, Hermione had been particularly committed to learning how politics worked. She decided she could no longer remain ignorant of the mechanics behind power.
If the system was corrupt, Hermione would learn how to navigate those poisonous waters.
So she read and searched until the library of the House of Black gave her a key to a different point of view that had been denied to her because of her birth.
It turned out that purebloods kept an utmost detailed record of power plots and government strategies. It had been sort of a tradition that the Head of House of each pureblood family, in a way or another, had an influence among laws and social organization; it could be said that the head of each house worked as a pillar for the community.
And the House of Black as ancient and influential as it had been, made an extensive effort to document every historical detail. Most of the events were written down in the personal diaries of former family members.
Hermione found most interesting the way each Head of House had focused the narration on each of their time. Some recalled social hierarchies, some focused on international relations and the state of each nation and their impact on England, but others-who reminded her of Percy Weasley-noted down tricks and dirty moves to gain influence inside the Ministry. As surprising as it may seem, those were the most useful. They never underestimated any department as small as it was. The department of scroll and magical investigation didn't catch any attention from journalists or ministers, but Hermione learned that if you could bribe the department director, any scrolls including dark magic could magically (the irony really) disappeared and come to rest in one of the pureblood libraries of the sacred twenty eight.
Knowledge of dark magic was a priority that must be preserved according to Cygnus Black.
She could agree on that. She had always been thirsty for knowledge, but she could also admit that one must be careful with who has access to that information.
One wrong hand and that erudition would be spoilt.
No one likes tainted goods.
Even though their opinions on blood purity sickened Hermione, the diaries provided useful insight to a world that turned out to be most secretive. As a muggle born her familiarity with the Magic World was limited to the account of her classmates, which in most cases were biased and were also ignorant of the backstage that played behind their school years.
The diaries contained a dissected world.
From them, Hermione had been able to learn the ex-Minister's secrets and weaknesses. She had unveiled an interconnected web of high profile department directors linked through blackmail.
Hermione had also learned that deep inside the Ministry's walls, there were the most powerful libraries of ancient magic, compilations of runes that could cast the most dangerous enchantments, and prophecies that could change the future.
Any small department bribed into submission gained one more eye and hand to change the course of politics.
Hence why, Hermione knew that the Ministry of Magic would fall. It was only a matter of time before Voldemort would reign behind the scenes.
All the information in the diaries, Harry's behavior, Umbridge's educational decrees, Hagrid's fear, the Order of the Phoenix reinstatement, Fudge's public debunking of anyone who announced the returned of He-who-must-not-be-named, it all piled up on Hermione's mind.
And here she was trying to make sense of everything.
The frustration with her imprisonment and her inability to find a way to get out was affecting her too much and too quickly.
It must be spring by now. Or late February at least.
Three escape attempts and none worked.
In the first attempt, she was just reaching for the door when she was sent out flying by the security enchantment. The flesh of her hand and arm was split open. It had taken a month for her arm to be healed properly.
The second attempt was after Hermione had heard Bellatrix using the spell to open her cage. "Aperiam in caveam". The spell was more complex than a simple alohomora, but Hermione was confident in her learning abilities. However, when she tried to cast the spell, she started bleeding from her eyes and passed out.
And finally, the third attempt had been when Yaxley, Dolohov and Rowle had visited her in her cell. One day they appeared at her door. The three of them were dressed in their Death Eater's cloaks but their masks had been off. They had smiled and surrounded her. Dolohov had shot her a wicked grin, and Yaxley and Rowle were whispering among each other. Hermione thought they were only going to torture her, but the complicity in their eyes told her another story. She fought, kicked and screamed. Out of nowhere, an accidental burst of magic happened and the three of them were knocked down. She had gotten up and ran. She was about to reach the stairs when a person came down and stupefied her. Her world was darkness again, and the next time she had woken up she was once again inside her cage.
Who was she kidding?
Hermione feels helpless.
Why did everybody call her the Brightest Witch of her Age?
She is useless now. Taken from the Order, defeated by the enemy. She had tried to do non-verbal magic but nothing happened. She had even thought that somehow they had found a way to separate her from her magic.
Hermione had tried to be positive, but she also recognized that she no longer had the same pragmatic spirit as before. Hermione no longer had her innocence nor the faith of her school years.
When Voldemort was a weak phantom, the greatest danger was not passing her exams.
Back then, risks appeared easier if she had her two best friends by her side.
Together till the end. But the end had come quicker than any of them could anticipate, and the naive cheerful Hermione that had existed in Hogwarts was gone.
She was mostly defeated until Bellatrix brought that book into her torture chamber. That was the key to her freedom, and she had to fight tooth and nail to get her hands on it.
Think Hermione.
Hermione's mother had cultivated her love for books since she was a child. "Monika Wilkins'' had been committed to satisfy her daughter's craving for every possible published document that caught her interest. Her mother had read aloud to her in the beginning, but when Hermione had wanted to have independence, her mother had taught her how to. Alphabet books where the ones who had captivated her first . When she was seven she started going to the local library on her own, and found herself immersed in history and fictional sections. When she had arrived at Hogwarts, Hermione was ecstatic. Madam Prince had become quite accustomed to Hermione's presence. She had even grown a bit of an affection for Hermione; often recommending new lectures, or on rare moments, Madam Prince allowed her to go in the Restricted Section without teacher's written permission.
The Restricted Section.
It had begun there.
Dark and light magic.
Darkness is primitive and instinctive
Dark and light. Magic.
In her first four years at Hogwarts, the border between dark and light magic was crystal clear. Dark meant evil. Light meant good. It wasn't until she began digging in the library of the House of Black that her perspective started to change.
Those books were haunting. The magic was more powerful than any spell in the Hogwarts curriculum. The spells were captivating.
Hermione could not resist. At first, she had been afraid to dwell on forbidden fruit, but like Eve she bit the apple.
Hermione suddenly wakes up when she feels a breeze of cold air on her cheek. As soon as she opens her eyes, everything remains pitch black. There is a shimmer on the other side. A faint shade of yellow. Almost like the beginning of a sunrise.
She squints her eyes to focus on anything or something that stands before her, but blurry shadows are the only glimpse that her eyes catch.
She is sitting down on a soft-mushy surface. It feels like wet grass, a little bit tingling. Her clothes are damp.
She reaches out with her hands to start exploring the surrounding area
She tries to crawl, but her arms and knee feel like they could sink at any moment.
She stops.
She continues touching whatever is in her arms reach. There are some slippery strings on the ground, almost like branches but thinner. She tries to pull one, in case they can help her get out of the sinking terrain, but it snaps.
Her body starts to ache.
What time is it? What day is it? Where am I?
Hermione tries to get up but her legs won't respond. She feels like she has been sedated. Her movements are slow and clumsy.
Suddenly a sound comes from the other side. The dark and gloomy side where her eyes won't see.
It is a growl.
She feels a breath on the back of her neck. She is now fully alert to very noise.
A few branches to her left creek beneath the weight of something.
Something is crawling up her leg.
She feels claws in the length of her thigh.
She is paralyzed.
The sharp claws are starting to rip the skin.
The pain stings. Her mind can't seem to coordinate with her limbs. She wants to run, but screams are the only reaction she can muster.
Now, she can feel it. The adrenaline pumping through her veins. The fuel she needed now flows through her blood. She manages to start moving her legs. She is not agile, but her movement is improving by the minute.
She is trying to put a distance between the creature and her.
She doesn't know how, but she is certain that it has no intention of chasing her rapidly. It is toying with her. Taking its time to fully attack her.
Hermione imagines there are trees around her because she can hear jumping above her.
The only light that guides her is the yellow shimmering that stands ahead of her.
Then, a shrilling voice pierces her persecution. She stops. Her heart is beating furiously.
She hears it again, more clearly this time. It is her name in a scream. And she recognizes that voice. George. He is screaming for her.
Screw the creature, she screams back, "George, where are you?"
She must save him.
"George"
"Hermione!" His voice is desperate and closer. He is in the light.
She gathers strength from god knows where, but suddenly she is running.
The creature is closer now. She is closer to the shimer. She will save George.
The closer she comes, she notices it is actually an orange glow.
Just a few more steps.
It isn't light what she sees, it is fire. Blazing fire burning everything. A halo of orange flames. Everything is bright and warm. The heat is unbearable.
She hears her name again. The voice is hoarse. It almost sounds like his vocal cords are melting.
"Where are you George?" She feels a heat of wave in her face, but she ventures inside the fire. She can't breath. Everything is red.
Fiendfyre. It must be.
Hermione is frantically turning around. She sees him now. George. He is in the middle of the devilish halo. His skin is bubbling. He is covered in flames. He looks like a firefly.
The smell that comes from his burning skin is nauseating. The flames are peeling him. Chunks of his body are falling to the ground. Hermione is horrified.
She hears her name again, however George isn't moving his mouth.
The voice is the same, but it is coming from elsewhere.
She can hear her name above her, beside her, everywhere.
During her first two months in Malfoy Manor, Hermione began to realize the importance and value of Bellatrix Lestrange.
At first, Hermione had found it incredibly odd the methodical torture that Bellatrix inflicted. She would always debilitate the prisoner's body first, thirst and hunger were enhanced. Belleatrix would make sure her prey was uncomfortable and scared. She wouldn't actually show up daily to her cell, but Hermione could hear her nails against the iron gates. A laugh here and there in late hours, that would haunt her dreams. Sometimes she had found dried rose petals scattered in her cell. Bellatrix attacked body and mind, in small subtle ways. Hermione had twice drunk poisoned water, and almost weekly her food had rotten at her touch. Hermione felt her sanity slipping through her fingers. Her memories had been tampered too. Hermione could remember Bellatrix inside her house, standing at the feet of her parent's bed with a knife in her hands. Hermione could see Bellatrix ripping her mother's throat. Hermione could remember playing in her neighborhood swings and suddenly seeing Bellatrix standing outside the fence. Her mind had been tampered by her executioner, and Hermione found it harder each time to separate reality from nightmare.
It wasn't until Bellatrix achieved to mutilate the psyche, that she moved on to the soul.
Her organized torture contrasted greatly with her wild demeanor.
In reality, Bellatrix wasn't as crazy as the Prophet or the Order said. Bellatrix loved to play dumb and wacky. When in reality, she was smart and lethal.
Hermione had to accept that the whole act of crazy-murderer gave Bellatrix a chance for the public to underestimate her abilities. They all had. In the Prophet, Bellatrix had always been reported to be unstable and irrational. Yes, she was known to be quite deadly, but one could never imagine her mind was behind most of the silent assassinations commanded by Voldemort.
Bellatrix was wicked. Her occlumency skills added precision to her spell work. Her cunning added ambition to her bloodthirst. Her sadistic tendencies added efficiency to her work. Bellatrix was through and through a deadly weapon.
Bellatrix had potential. Her magical core naturally inclined towards dark magic. Her wand searched dark curses. It was instinctive. Hermione remembered the way Ollivander talked about wands and their owners. He used to say wands were individuals that couldn't be tamed; the wand teaches the wizard or witch, not the other way around.
When Hermione was being tortured she had grown accustomed to observing Bellatrix. Her untamed curls. The fire in her eyes. The way her hand would flow when she casted curses. No regret. No second thoughts. Pure pain inflicted upon wish. Bellatrix was gifted and experienced.
Behind her lunatic act, there was mischief and greatness that Hermione had never seen before. Not even in Dumbledore. And for that reason, Hermione began to admire Bellatrix's power. That pure wild unrestricted power. Bellatrix's magic wasn't bound to binary moral codes.
But even though Hermione's mind began shifting values and goals, and as much as she had begun admiring her, Bellatrix was trying to kill her, and there would come a time where the student would beat her teacher.
Bellatrix knew how to fight and Hermione knew how to preach, which is utterly useless when the world is burning in war.
So Hermione decided that when she managed to get out, she would be as ruthless as Bellatrix.
And nobody would ever stop her.
Author's Note: I am sorry for the super late update. I haven't abandoned this story but school has been somehow complicated and sometimes I feel like my writing is trash. Anyhow, I just wanted to clear up that the fic is very dark and will not have a "good vs evil" plot. There are a lot of shades of grey in between, so please take that in consideration. Thank you for your support.