- (I'd strongly recommend listening to the Melting Waltz by Abel Korzeniowski while reading the first few paragraphs) -
CARPE NOCTEM / NYRIAD VALLEY / CH. 11
According to the ancient tale, there once was a creature of ethereal beauty, so divine that mortals could not bear a single glance cast upon her crystalline skin. She used to dance through the angel oak trees in nearby forests and sang so purely the heart of a man fell inexorably into a trap of infatuation. Following the voice, males wandered across the meadows lit by the dawning sun, mad with a desire to see the celestial being. Alas! Once they approached and set their eyes upon the glow of her amber hair, they fell to their knees, cursed to the darkness for the rest of their days.
Night by night, each sunrise brought more and more blind men back to their wives, until there wasn't any left to succumb to the charms of Lillith.
The dawns became quiet again.
But as yesterdays teach us, peace is a tricky fellow, short like the time between the first and the last breath of a mayfly.
The velvet voice re-appeared again, wiring through the air like the sweetest melody, but there were no more men to respond and no one worried anymore.
Sadly, they'd all forgotten about the youngest son of the judge. The boy was coming out of age, just about to turn fifteen. Upon one summer morning, he crept out of his bed, following the angelic sound to the woods behind the house. As soon as the boy caught a glimpse of naked, radiant skin, he covered his face, for the pain was excruciating.
Hearing agonising cries of her only son as he blindly ran home, the mother's heart burst into flames of loathing. Delirious with rage, she gathered every man, leading them into the forest to track the vile creature. She kept her eyes on the ground, following the stardust soon replaced by the crimson blood falling from the nymph's bare feet as she ran through the mountain rocks, trying to escape the humans.
Eventually, the creature slipped through a crack, finding a shelter in a tiny cave.
Wanting nothing else but to destroy her, the people went on, trying to get inside, but got stopped by a flood of tears falling through the loop. The flow became stronger and stronger as the creature wailed for her wounded skin. The villagers retreated, desperate to run back home, but the salt from the tears had loosened the rocks, making the avalanche devour the poor men and bury the nymph alive, casting her, too, to stay in the darkness until the end of times.
Never ever did she show herself to the world again. Because of living in a constant gloom, her skin had become paler and her hair darker. No man had ever seen her face but if she had any, Hermione was positive it would be the one of Bellatrix Lestrange.
Quickly as if blinded, the girl turned from the woman, trying to occupy those betraying eyes of hers with something else, but they kept darting back, leaving her no other choice but to capitulate.
Hermione parted her lips for the second time.
There she stood, like a demon of the night, dressed in a dark, see-through lace, brightened by a plethora of tiny little crystals exalting the ivory skin underneath. The upper part of the robe pressed tightly against the collarbones, dragging thin paths of merlinite stones all over the breast area, creating an illusion of a Breckland thyme.
The tightness went on, sneaking down the slender arms, stopping just above the wrists, trapped in the dark fingers of the man standing next to the witch. He pulled one of them up, letting it slip to get a hold of the palm, and pressed his mouth to the marble skin. "Bellatrix."
The woman released her hand, curling those blood red lips into a bored, arrogant smile. Rodolphus Lestrange, however, did not reciprocate the sentiments. His face stayed still, eyes glued to hers without any blinking. "It's been a while."
"Yes," the dark witch nodded indifferently, "yes, it was." Granting him no more attention, she blatantly stepped away, walking past the dumbstruck Hermione towards the blond pair still standing on the stairs. "Cissy, we should be going if we don't want to be late."
"I know," the blond witch replied nervously, holding the delicate fabric of her dress as she took the last few steps down the staircase. "Draco, Miss Granger, our conveyance is outside, so please—" Narcissa motioned towards the door as she made her way past them, followed closely by her husband.
Coming face to face with the incomer, she paused, nodding faintly. "It's good to see you."
Lucius, too, acknowledged the visitor, reaching out his hand, and even though Lestrange did take it, none of the men showed any sympathy for the other.
Freshly brought out of her hypnosis, Hermione shook her head and gave Draco a quick questioning look before moving and, unfortunately, tripping over her dress. She heard a soft chuckle behind her back, painting her ears bright pink.
Embarrassed, she bent over to get a hold of the long skirt but before she could straighten up, her eyes fell on a dark, loose fabric, which appeared in front of her ex nusquam.
"We need to have a quick talk, you and I."
Hermione's brain sent an electric shock to her stomach upon catching the low whisper somewhere near. Forgetting all about the dress, she quickly regained her posture. Bellatrix was standing right in front of her, gleaming with pulchritude. Her skin looked flawless, like glass without a single blemish, enhanced by those infamous cheekbones of hers. The dark shadows underneath her eyes had disappeared—instead, a smooth alabaster colour was on display, radiating nothing but pure health. Hermione couldn't tell whether she was wearing any make-up except a matte, blood-like rouge, but the change was impressive.
"Granger, are you coming?" Draco's voice came like an echo from a very far distance. She was too mesmerised to even try answering, but it did not become any issue, for the dark witch took it into her own hands.
"No, she'll go with me." Bellatrix turned to the boy, whose face got the look of a freshly slapped one.
"What?" He blanched, freezing on a spot.
"What do you mean, with you?" Narcissa came back into the picture, her mouth opened agape. "Bella, this is not the time—!"
"Calm down," she replied, rolling her eyes, "I just need a second, then I'll take her there," she added, giving Draco a reassuring look. "I'm not going to tie her up somewhere and—"
Hermione choked on her own saliva and started coughing.
"For Merlin's sake, I wasn't even thinking about that! Thank you for the idea. Now I'm definitely—!" The boy's eyes went wide, completely ignoring Hermione's discomfort.
Inhaling deeply as if not to lose patience, Bellatrix licked her lips. "Your little princess will be there on time. Now hurry up, your parents are waiting for you."
The boy took a few unsure steps forwards. "Aunt Bella, you know I am very fond of you, but if Granger doesn't show up there—!"
Bellatrix provocatively lifted her chin. "Then what?"
"Can we please not do this now?!" Narcissa almost stomped her foot. "This—this is a very important evening and you two are not ruining it! Merlin forbid there's a one day without arguing over Hermione Granger!" she barked, surprising everyone in the room. It wasn't a common thing to have Narcissa lose her temper.
"You!" She pierced Draco with her gaze. "Outside!" She nodded towards the door. "And you, Bellatrix, I expect the girl to be there!"
She turned on her heel, marching out with Lucius and Draco jogging swiftly in front of her without anymore grumbling.
There was a loud sound of the door closing, making the girl realise they were alone. Well, technically, there was still Rodolphus, standing aside, obviously displeased with the ignorance his wife was lavishing upon him, but it did not make the feeling of anxiety any better. Quite the opposite.
Gulping, Hermione waited in anticipation.
"Give us a moment," Bellatrix called out, addressing her husband, but did not spare him a single look.
"No," he spat venomously, "I'm afraid I can't do that. We need to talk, Bellatrix, now!" Hermione's gaze jumped to the man, who looked like being so damn done dealing with her attitude.
"We can talk later. I don't suppose it's something of great importance, is it?" the dark witch retorted with a mocking smirk as she stepped closer to the girl, whose glance automatically shifted back.
Rodolphus threw a hand into the air in undeniable frustration. He waited for a few more seconds before turning his back to them and storming out, completely vexed.
'Somebody's henpecked tonight.' Hermione thought to herself, but subsequently regretted her very own place on this Earth.
Stupid Hermione!
In a second, she built up imaginary walls around her mind, but it was already too late.
Bellatrix parted her lips, visibly taken aback. "Careful with such words, deary, could cause you any sort of trouble... or injuries," she added, making the hair on Hermione's arms stand up.
"I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that! I-I mean—" the girl stammered, absolutely petrified. This wasn't the first time she got into trouble for her lack of caution.
"I may let it slide today," Bellatrix raised her voice, "but next time, do keep your mind closed—or else I may see more than just an eerie fairytale of The Temptress of a Nyriad Valley, even though it came out like a very flattering compliment."
There would never be enough make-up in the world to cover the bright shade of sangria which took place on Hermione's cheeks after that statement. She fought with all her might to stop herself from running upstairs with her face buried in her palms.
"What's the matter? There's nothing wrong with thinking there are far better-looking women than you, right?" Bellatrix smirked with just one side of her mouth, sending an unexpected punch into Hermione's gut.
The witch rolled her eyes "Oh my, I was just joking! You can't take everything so seriously!"
Being splashed by such cold water, Hermione found her voice once again. She shook her head, carefully adjusting her dress. "I didn't."
"Good. Otherwise, you might find the next subject a little too offensive." Bellatrix tossed her long hair over her shoulder. "It's really nothing personal, I wouldn't do it if it wasn't for the sake of our name, but—"
"You don't want me to go," Hermione interrupted, not understanding why her stomach dropped since she didn't even want to go to the ball in the first place.
Bellatrix only tilted her head. "—but I have to protect the status of our family."
"That's just a metaphor." Hermione exhaled, getting a hold of her dress, ready to leave.
"Turn your pretty little face back to me, I'm not done talking," Bellatrix ordered with such authority Hermione wouldn't dare not to collaborate. She angled back, gazing over the woman's shoulder. There we go. More humiliation—and here she thought they were past this point.
"And..." The woman stepped a little closer, bending her knees to catch Hermione's eyes. "Would you mind looking at me?"
Hermione did as she was told, feeling a slight tingle inside her stomach.
"Here." The woman took out a tiny container of a bright, violet potion out of nowhere. She threw it Hermione's direction, who, even though caught off guard, still managed to catch it.
"What is it?" she asked, perplexed.
"A potion. You take it and no one, except us, will know it's you."
Hermione frowned, suspicion lingering in a back of her mind. "But this is not a polyjuice potion. The colour, the consistency..." she pointed out, unsure.
"Of course, it's not the polyjuice potion. It's something else."
"What exactly?"
The dark witch paused, trapping her lower lip in between those dazzling teeth. "You need to trust me."
Hermione's eyebrows moved up on their own accord. You need to trust me? Seriously?!
"Deary, I wouldn't hurt you." Bellatrix' face melted into a soft smile. "You're like a protected flower in this family."
Gulping, Hermione looked at the small ampoule in her hands. She couldn't imagine anything in this world that would bring her to drink an unknown potion.
"Are you afraid you'll die?" Bellatrix spoke again, watching the inner battle.
"I..." This was getting scarier and scarier. 'Now I am.'
"Look, I'm an adult woman. What would I get out of killing a fifteen—or whatever your age is—year-old child, tell me?"
'A feeling of satisfaction?' Hermione thought, keeping her mind tightly closed.
"I've already told you I reconsidered my views, haven't I?" Bellatrix tried slowly. "It's purely for Draco's own good, trust me."
The girl's face radiated pure despair. She wasn't a fan of the idea in any way, but there was just something in those dark eyes, a glimpse of sincerity piercing through her very own soul and... Merlin, if she was to survive this...
"All right." She sighed heavily. "How do I take it? Does the glass need to be broken or—?"
"No, you swallow it whole." Bellatrix left her lips parted, visibly unnerved the girl would change her mind.
Hermione slowly moved her left arm up and put the petite phial inside her mouth. It was cold but other than that, there was no taste to it. Closing her eyes before swallowing, she prepared for the worst.
Nothing.
Not a thing.
She blinked, letting out a sigh full of relief. She was alive. But wait... Ouch!... Hermione's hands shot up. It was as if somebody pressed a hot pancake against her face and refused to let it slide down.
But the feeling, as quickly as it came, disappeared in the same fashion. Hermione focused on the woman in front of her, who was tilting her head like a curious puppy.
She wondered about a sudden somersault happening inside her stomach. It must have been the nerves.
"Feeling as alive as ever?" The dark witch smirked, clearly satisfied with the results.
"How do I look?" Hermione asked, her hands roaming over the features of the new face. As far as she could tell, it did not feel any different.
"Tweaked." Bellatrix moved closer. "Wait... come here!" She reached out to Hermione's face but the girl quickly took a step back, her heart skipping a beat. It was beyond her human understanding why she always acted like a scared little bunny around this woman.
Bellatrix raised her eyebrow and chuckled. "Goodness, it's just your mascara." She let her arm fall back to her side and slowly inched closer again. This time Hermione did not move. Beside the strangest feeling of trepidation bouncing inside her form, she stayed completely still.
"Eyes closed."
Nodding, Hermione slipped into the gloom. She waited with her heart beating faster and faster. There was almost a taste to the raw proximity she felt when a perfume found its way inside her lungs.
Her breath became shallow and it seemed as if the world around her also forgot to exist.
A second, two, three…
She gasped erratically when a cool flow of breeze hit the skin near her left eye. Slowly, almost like tiny raindrops, a rush of precisely aimed goosebumps covered her entire spine. Hermione would swear she could feel them slipping underneath her skin, into the bones of her ribcage, swallowing all the oxygen out of her lungs.
She heard a soft exhale of a smile, somewhere very very close, but she didn't dare to open her eyes.
"There," Bellatrix said softly.
It took Hermione a second or two to peer through her eyes. The dark witch was already halfway to the door when she turned around, confused why she didn't hear any footsteps behind her back.
"What is it?" she asked.
'Exactly. What. is. it?!' Hermione thought, utterly distressed. She tried to attribute this weird agitation to the constant state of fear she had to live in before she and the woman made their peace, but this interpretation did not feel quite right.
No, it has to be just post-stress. There's no other way to explain it.
"Well?" Bellatrix interrupted her inner monologue.
"I think I'd like to see myself before we leave." She aimed for a cover-up. "Just to make sure—eh." Hermione didn't finish. She hurried to the glass doors of the cabinet positioned on the left side of the hall, trying to catch a glimpse of the face.
The improvised mirror did not provide much information, however, Hermione could see that the eyes staring back at her weren't her own. They had grown bigger and heavier. The mouth, too, seemed much plumper and the tip of her nose unusually pointy.
"Satisfied? Now come along," the older witch commanded, tearing the girl from her observations.
"Sorry... I'm coming," Hermione blurted, rushing after her.
As soon as she caught up, her attention automatically slid to the shoulder blades stretching the sheer fabric. She tried focusing on the door in front of her, but it proved to be a fight of quite a tough nature.
A plain move of a hand, and the door opened on its own, revealing a dark starry night and a furious looking Rodolphus Lestrange.
"That is not a happy face," Bellatrix pointed, clearly amused, making a vessel on his neck pump a little faster.
"Are you done with your little conversation?" he asked, ignoring the statement.
"Uhm." Bellatrix nodded cheerfully, driving him even angrier. "We're running late. Could you be so kind and take the little missie there? I still have some business to finish."
"Bellatrix, I think I've explained very clearly that I need to talk to you!"
"Sorry," she sneered, apparently not sorry at all. She turned to the girl.
"Bella, I am not ..." Rodolphus started but thought better of it. His eyes jumped to Hermione, who quickly averted her gaze.
"Find my sister, all right?" The woman raised her eyebrows to emphasise her point. "Tell her I gave you the potion."
"But... "
"Oh, please." She shook her head, seeing the girl's reserved body language upon looking at Rodolphus. "He is a very reliable man, you don't have to be worried about your first time."
Hermione's pupils grew twice their size. "E-excuse me?"
A pause, a tilt of a head and a wave of laughter followed. "Oh." Bellatrix put her palm over her wide smile. "I was talking about the apparition, not that."
The feeling of boiling water inside her own head was back and Hermione couldn't be more grateful to be standing outside, where the lights couldn't enhance the growing redness in her cheeks.
"Teenagers these days." Bella shook her head, the signs of laughter still visible on her face. Angling back to Rodolphus, she put a hand on his cheek. "You better get going, darling. You wouldn't want to miss the first dance, would you?" Giving him no chance to respond, she spun around and disappeared in a swirl of thick, black smoke.
Hermione was looking at the slowly evaporating mist in disbelief. Did the woman just leave her here?
They could sing whatever glittery canticles they wanted about the nobleness of the name Black, but the term decency couldn't fit in the scriptures in any way.
Rodolphus coughed, trying to catch Hermione's attention. "You need to hold on to my arm," he drawled in a snobby voice "and try not to let go. You could split."
This was the last thing the young witch needed to hear. Not that long ago, she'd read an article about Roger Matthews, a sixteen-year-old wizard, trying to apparate without a proper training. He split in five, leaving the most intimate part of his body in Denmark.
"I don't have the whole night, you know." The man extended his left arm, waiting for Hermione to grasp it.
A little hesitant, she stepped closer, reaching out her hand. She touched the soft, silky robe, covering the man's brachium. "Ready?"
Hermione nodded, too fearful to say anything.
She almost screamed as the invisible force pulled her into a space so tight she was afraid it was going to crush her bones into plain dust. It pushed all the breath out of her body, leaving her with nothing but a desire to have this feeling behind her as soon as possible.
It was as if a golden Carassius somewhere heard her and fulfilled her wish. Her feet touched the ground without a warning, attacking her balance.
What a great thing it was to refuse the slice of cake Ailey had left in her room that evening, Hermione thought. The apparition alone almost made her sick—she couldn't imagine doing it with a stomach full of food.
Trying her best to regain the composure, she smoothed the dress on her sides and looked around the space.
The capacious anteroom they appeared in was full of laggards, still lingering behind, talking to their families and friends. Hermione was wondering whether she'd bump into anyone of her classmates but personally hoped for zero encounters.
Funnily enough, of all the people around, her eyes immediately fell upon Pansy Parkinson, dressed in a dark green robe, who was too, shamelessly staring back at her. Expecting the worst, Hermione could only pray the girl would behave and not make a huge scene out of it. But to her surprise, Pansy not only controlled herself—the Slytherin student smiled, nodding—a sign of respect she only had for her equals.
'What?!'
Hermione smiled hesitantly, averting her gaze to the large mirror plastered across the entire wall. She recognised the ethereal dress, even the frame looked just like before, but the face covering her own, was absolutely unrecognisable.
'Oh. That's where the dog lies buried.'
She took a step closer, gazing into the face she had to present tonight and noticed her features had changed completely. Instead of her own, cinnamon eyes, a cold grey colour gleamed from underneath the dark eyelashes. Her lips had become fuller, with the bottom one standing out a little more, glistening under the light of the crystal chandelier hanging above her head.
"You better go find Narcissa." Rodolphus approached her, gesturing towards the entry on the other side of the hall. "The ball has already started, so don't hang about," he added, looking all around him, probably searching for any signs of his wife.
"Yes, of course! Thank you for the..." Hermione began but the man was already gone, swallowed by the crowd of attires.
The girl stayed completely alone, slowly processing what it really meant to attend a pureblood event like this. Of course, she'd read all about it in Soirées of Wizarding World, but being here in person, experiencing the atmosphere first handed it was a completely different story.
The air was heavy with a green floral scent, mixed with something classy and crisp Hermione couldn't quite place—almost as if the aristocracy itself carried a fragrance on its own. Everywhere she looked, she saw witches and wizards with the same characteristic scowl rooted to their faces, giving off an iron aura of confidence.
Deep down, Hermione had to admit that the potion plan wasn't such a bad idea, however, she still felt a slight sting of disappointment that they were ashamed... that Bellatrix was ashamed.
It was beyond her why she valued the woman's opinion so much. Yes, she was a very powerful witch, clever, but she could also be ruthless and obnoxious.
A perfect example was her own husband. Hermione felt truly sorry for him, even though he was a complete stranger.
A marriage like this would be just too forlorn for any human being.
One evening, when she and Draco were sitting in the garden, the boy had told her Bellatrix used to travel a lot, leaving Rodolphus at home to take care of everything while she was on some kind of a mission, but he couldn't quite put a finger on it.
"Auntie is more mysterious year by year. She doesn't talk much about the business. I remember I used to go to Lestrange manor for holidays, but since she took the job, I hardly see her and I think the same applies to Rodolphus. He's all alone there."
"So they don't have any children?" Hermione asked, a little tingly with expectations.
"No. Once I overheard her talking about it with my mother. Aunt Bella said that if she wanted a child, she wouldn't risk it with Rodolphus. She'd rather kill herself than have a dumb offspring if he was to take after him."
Worming her way through the crowd, Hermione accidentally bumped into someone. She murmured an apology but continued with her inner monologue.
That right there was the proof that arranged marriages were the most senseless and cold unions, chaining two people together for the rest of their lives, no matter how miserable it turned out to be—all for the sake of the bloodline. It was true, she'd never given it much thought, but Hermione was positive if she was ever to be married, she'd choose a sweet, caring man and they'd spend their lives in peace and harmony. She wouldn't definitely end up like Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange…
A few more seconds died and Hermione finally passed the entrance hall and appeared in a spacious hall, full of chandeliers and expensive-looking sofas and tables. The decoration was aligned in golden and white, a very clear and eye-pleasing combination emphasised by classical music, similar to André Rieu compositions. The aesthetics of the synchronised dancing, the whirlpool of colour and that beautiful surrounding all combined created a place the dreams are made of.
Impressed, Hermione took a moment to memorise everything from the mist dragging across the floor to the starry ceiling, almost identical with the Hogwarts' one.
"Do you need any help? You seem lost." A girly voice called from behind her.
She turned around, seeing a very friendly looking Pansy Parkinson smiling at her. "Oh, hello," Hermione choked out of her, a little distressed the girl would recognise her voice. "I... no, thank you. I'm sure I'll manage."
"Are you looking for someone? I can help. By the way, I'm Parkinson. Pansy Parkinson. My father works in the Ministry of Magic with Cornelius Fudge himself." She stuck out her chin, expecting a lava of praises to fall from Hermione's lips, who had a lot to do to stop herself from bursting out.
Of course, Pansy would brag about her father the first thing.
Hermione bit her tongue so she wouldn't say anything acrid. When she thought about it, it was actually quite sad the girl needed to bring up her parent to gain a friend or whatever these relationships were called among the purebloods.
A little confused that Hermione's reaction was just a plain smile, Pansy furrowed her brows. "What's your name? You're definitely not a Hogwarts student and I've never seen you here before, either."
Hermione's curled lips froze. "I believe you haven't because—well, this is my first time," she peeped. "I-I'm homeschooled."
"Why?"
"Because—oh, excuse me, I think I've just seen a friend of mine," Hermione quickly blurted, glad to see a glimpse of Narcissa's beige dress actually not that far from her, "it was nice talking to you, Pansy." She gave her a quick smile and rushed after the woman before she'd disappear.
After a set of excuse me-s, the girl caught up with the blonde witch. "Madame Malfoy?"
Narcissa turned around with perplexion lingering around her features, but it took her just a single glance at Hermione's robe to realise what was happening. Her smooth hand grabbed Hermione's wrist and led her to the first empty table nearest to them.
"Miss Granger?!" She stopped in front of the girl, completely ignoring the rule of personal space. "What is this?" Her arctic eyes roamed over Hermione's face in uneasiness. "Where's my sister?"
Backing away a little, Hermione tried to release her wrist. Narcissa glanced down, quickly letting go, probably not even aware she was gripping the thin hand in her own.
"Well, Madame Lestrange came to me with a potion. She didn't tell me what it was and..."
"You took some potion without knowing what it is? You stupid girl, what if something bad happened to you?" Narcissa whispered almost hysterically.
"I'm sorry?" Hermione parted her lips, glaring into Narcissa's pretty face. "Do you think she would...?"
The blonde witch didn't answer, only kept looking at the changed features with an intense look, making Hermione swallow painfully. A sudden feeling of warmth washed over her as the woman cast a silent spell to reveal any sort of poisoning or whatever harm the potion could cause.
"You seem fine." She breathed out and relaxed her tensed posture. "I..."
"Mother? Have you seen Granger?" Draco came to those two with a frowning look plastered upon his face.
"Yes, actually, I have. She's right here," the woman answered, crossing her arms.
Hermione peered from behind her, meeting the boy's eyes, which did not look happy at all. The widened pupils scanned through her face, confusion leaving his mouth open.
"What's this? Why are you—why aren't you...? You?" he blurted, gesturing ambidextrously.
The girl sighed, shrugging. "Doesn't matter, but I think it was a really good idea. I've just seen Parkinson and believe me, I was glad she had no idea it was me."
"This is aunt Bella's doing, isn't it?!" he fumed. "I told her..!"
Shaking her head, Hermione soothed the explosion before it was too late. "Stop it, Draco. I think it's for the best. I wouldn't feel comfortable with anyone staring and pointing at me, anyway." She took a step forwards. "It's all right, please, don't be mad at her."
"Where is she?" Narcissa joined in, dragging her son aside from a few curious looks. "You came here with her, where's she gone?"
"Actually, I haven't. Mr Lestrange brought me here," the girl explained, not really knowing how would the woman react to the news, "she had something important to do, that's why she asked her husband to accompany me." Hermione could see the muscles in the woman's jaw tensing.
"Fine," Narcissa said after a while, covering all the signs of aggravation. Her lips curled into a dazzling smile when the pair of wizards passed their little gathering, bowing their heads.
"Madame," they muted, moving ahead.
"Listen." She inched closer to Hermione, her voice low and urgent. "Try not to talk to anyone, dodge all the questions, but if the situation forces you, say your name's Delphini Ingram, a distant family of Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange. You came for the summer holiday from... " Narcissa tilted her head, considering Hermione's appearance. "Norway."
"What?" Draco frowned. "I don't want her to pretend she's someone else... It's disrespectful!"
"Well, we don't have a choice now, do we?" the woman snapped back, eyeing the crowd of people.
"Eh... with all due respect, ma'am, I don't think Madame Lestrange would be pleased with me saying we're related," Hermione objected, dreading the expression the dark witch's face would create upon hearing this.
"Don't let that concern you." Narcissa's eyes gleamed with a vengeance. "That's the price she has to pay for not telling me first handed."
Hermione exchanged a look with the blonde boy, unsure of what to say. She didn't like lying.
"Narcissa, what a surprise!"
They all turned around, spotting a tall, handsome man around twenty-eight-thirty years old. His golden face emitted a youthful glow of summer, underlined by electric blue eyes wrinkled under the weight of his wide grin.
"Bartemius Crouch Junior himself." The woman curled her lips in a short-lived smile, letting him approach and kiss the back of her hand.
"How do you do? This must be little Draco, am I right? Well, not that little anymore as I see." He winked at the boy, who only raised his left brow, making Hermione bite her tongue so that she wouldn't laugh. "And this lovely creature?" His eyes jumped to Hermione, whose cheeks reddened at the sudden compliment.
"This—this is Delphini, she's here with Bellatrix," Narcissa explained without hesitation, making the girl's heart jump to her throat. If the dark witch hadn't killed her with the potion, she'd definitely take care of it after learning about this.
"Bellatrix?" The man's face seemed to brighten even more, although his smile faltered.
"Yes." The blond witch frowned, piercing him with an intense look. "She and Rodolphus are both here."
"How lovely." Barty smiled again, but this time it did not come naturally. "Would you mind me introducing my little niece to you?" He turned to Hermione and Draco. "She's from Ireland and would be really pleased to meet you both."
It was obvious Narcissa wanted to object but did not want to sound rude. "Not at all! Draco, go ahead! Delphini will join you as soon as I help her with the hair." Narcissa smiled sweetly, hooking her arm through Hermione's who shuddered under the sudden warmth. The woman did not wait for the answer as she started pulling the young witch towards the anteroom.
"Not a problem. All right boy, come along. You know I've always... " They heard the man say but the rest of his sentence faded in music and loud conversations of the wizards around them.
"That was close..." Narcissa exhaled. "Now, I don't need to emphasise how important it is to avoid situations like this. No one can know—it would be even more scandalous than an actual mudblood showing here."
Hermione bit her inner cheek, lifting her chin higher.
"It wasn't meant as an insult," Narcissa added, understanding too late what'd just come out of her mouth.
"Excuse me, ma'am, but I don't see how it'd be any more shocking than that," the girl said slowly, not willing to kept her mouth shut anymore.
Narcissa nodded at the fat-looking lady sitting across the room, sending her a warm smile. The woman reciprocated, waving back at them.
"There is a lot you don't know about the world we live in. Treachery is not something we do forgive. If you're a traitor, then be one—but acting like a coward, hiding behind something that stands far lower than anything else." Narcissa stopped abruptly, unhooking her arm. "Talking about cowards... wait here," Narcissa ordered, walking away from Hermione, making her way through the crowd.
The girl was stretching her neck to see where she'd gone, but didn't have to try for a long time. In a second, the blonde witch was back, her whole being in contrast with another woman walking beside her.
Bellatrix's face radiated absolute carelessness, while Narcissa's gleamed with a forced smile.
Seeing the woman, Hermione's stomach purred with a sparkle of warmth.
"Calm down, Cissy. You should thank me instead of this ludicrous chiding." She heard when they got closer. "I was the only one who tried to save the situation. You're all too scared of your little baby boy. Guess what, you are the parent, not the other way around, so you better set your standards!"
Narcissa was about to retort something when she noticed an older wizard glaring at them. She closed her mouth, turning her back to him. "You know what? You're right," she said finally, stopping in front of the girl, "absolutely right, Bella." She glanced at Hermione, giving her a mischievous smile. "I believe you've already met Delphini, here, you know, a distant relative of yours and Rodolphus' from Norway. You better stay with her the whole night because I can't guarantee what would people say if she's seen all alone... a lot of your friends are already aware of your little niece." Narcissa stroked the curl of her sister's hair. "You may try being a parent yourself when you think it's that easy." With those words, she turned on her heel, leaving both women frozen to the spot.
Goodness, I was thinking about this chapter from the very beginning, and my, how wrong was I to assume I could fit everything into a single one... There's so much more on my mind, but I don't want the chapters to be too long. I'd rather keep you entertained than overwhelmed.
Anyway, it's been quite a while, I know, but here you are. I really hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did enjoy writing it.
Also, thank you for those beautiful reviews! It means the world to me! Can't wait to hear from you again, guys!
Much, much love, APermann