Hermione bid a sleepy Ginny good night as she collected her belongings. The brunette had finally completed her Defense Against the Dark Arts assignment, a delightful ten scroll essay about the 'Consequences of Disobeying your Professors' and had foregone a bath in favor of getting some sleep. It was a quarter past eleven when she left the young Gryffindor reading in the dim firelight of the common room. She made her way up the stone stairs to the girls' dormitory flexing her hand. Umbridge may be a sadistic witch, but Hermione was determined to make the top of the class no matter how tedious the assignment. Though, maybe she should take breaks more often, so her hand didn't cramp so terribly.
No doubt Ginny would wait up for Harry.
The witch smiled to herself. Ginny and Harry had been glued to each other since the young red head had been sorted. That was the effect of soul-bonds. That deep desire to be near their mate almost constantly.
Hermione's smile faltered.
She had tried to ignore it. That nagging in the back of her mind. The blatant truth she'd tried to bury- that her soul mate was a Death Eater. And not just any Death Eater, but Voldemort's right hand, Bellatrix Lestrange.
She stopped at the entrance to her dorm room and glanced at her wrist, eyeing the sharp curves and forward slant of the name forever etched onto her skin.
Black.
Hermione bit back a laugh.
Did Fate not know she was married?
It didn't matter. Not really. Bellatrix was a criminal. A monster. She had killed and tortured so many people. Many of whom Hermione didn't know by name. Why would she even want to be with a witch as dark and cruel as her? Hermione knew what the witch had done to Neville's parents. There was no forgiveness for anyone who could do that to another human being… Was there?
A pang of hurt shot through her chest, forcing the young woman out of her preoccupation.
She silently made her way through the dark, careful not to step on her cat Crookshanks' tail- it was poking out from under the bed. She dropped her bookbag on the chest at the foot of her full-sized canopy bed and shrugged off her robes tossing them on top.
She undid her tie and kicked off her shoes.
The brunette tried to think of anything else. Anything other than her soul mate.
She flopped gracelessly onto the bed, not even bothering to turn down the covers. She pulled her wand from her sleeve, shoving it under the pillow when her fingers grazed something. She fumbled around trying to feel what it was. After all, she was meticulous about her things. Everything had a place.
Most days.
She sat up and gripped her wand. Slowly she drew the curtains around her bed and whispered, "Lumos."
Suddenly a warm white glow filled the girl's canopy bed.
Hermione then moved the pillow only to find that a letter had been tucked under it. She traced the letters of her name. The handwriting was familiar, but she couldn't quite place it.
She carefully peeled off the seal- it was black wax with a small bird on it- when a light puff of magic released from it. It startled her for a moment.
Someone had deliberately charmed the envelope so that only the intended recipient could open it. Hermione was quite sure that if she had been anyone else, she'd have been hexed.
She shrugged off the feeling of unease and pulled the parchment out.
Meet me in the Shrieking Shack at midnight. Come alone or don't come at all.
B.B.
Hermione froze.
It- It couldn't be. There was no way. How could a Death Eater possibly get into Hogwarts?
She lifted the note and compared the writing to that on her wrist.
The same.
Bellatrix Black wanted to meet her. Alone. Tonight.
A thrill of excitement coursed through her body at the thought.
Hermione felt herself smile and then promptly scowled at her own foolishness. She shouldn't have wanted to go meet a Death Eater in the dark of the night.
But she did. And that surprised her.
Hermione went over a list of reasons why it was such a terrible idea. She tried not to feel anything, but the curiosity seeped through. Why was the dark witch contacting her? Was it because of their bond? Because they were soulmates?
Hermione's rational side knew that it could be a trap. That Bellatrix may just be lying in wait, ready to capture and torture her to get more information on Harry and the Order.
But the wistful side of herself, the side she ignored in favor of logic, the side that screamed at Hermione in her loneliest hours, whispered to her heart, that maybe Bellatrix felt the same. That maybe, the woman who was Hermione's perfect match -according to the universe- was just trying to reach out to her other half as well.
She glanced at her watch; it was twenty after Eleven. If she was to meet with Bellatrix, she hadn't much time.
She quickly pulled on her shoes and robes and made her way down the stairs. She was nearly at the bottom when she remembered Ginny. She was probably still waiting up for Harry.
What would she tell her? Should she tell the truth or lie?
Hermione decided to wing it.
When she got to the common room, she breathed a sigh of relief. Ginny had fallen asleep on the couch.
Swiftly making her way out the door she ignored the Fat Lady's hushed disapproval at sneaking out after curfew.
Hermione knew it was risky. That getting caught could leave a blemish on her otherwise perfect school record, but the overwhelming desire to see the dark witch outweighed her fears.
This may be the most incredibly stupid thing Hermione had every done. She rationalized to herself that it didn't matter. That she had waited patiently for the past six years to meet her soulmate. That she studied and worked diligently. She deserved to be reckless just once. Just this time.
Hermione cast a wordless muffling spell that would silence her footsteps and movement. Though she hadn't perfected it yet, she casted a masking spell too. It would allow her to pass by others unseen, so long as they weren't paying close attention. The spell itself was an intermediate one, one that she'd found in the restricted section. The book she'd borrowed was mostly defensive spells, but it had a few charms geared towards subterfuge. Hermione promised to share her knowledge with the D.A. as soon as she had mastered it.
Hermione steeled herself, she only had thirty minutes to get to the shack.
Bellatrix paced furiously in the main room of the Shrieking Shack.
The dark witch had been early. Too early. But the need made her impatient. So here she was.
The pale woman peered around; it's been over a decade since she had been in this bloody hovel.
The shack was ancient, and most of the furniture was rotted or damaged in some way or another. The dilapidated abode was built in a clearing of sorts, causing the wind to scratch and howl along the sides and roof. Hence its name. The shack also had boards nailed over most windows causing the place to be uninvitingly gloomy.
Bellatrix hated the dark. Not that she'd ever admit to it aloud. Ever. But after fourteen years in Azkaban, one craved the sun and all manners of light.
Wordlessly she flicked her wand, and a blazing fire roared to life in the fireplace.
The Death Eater settled a bit in the warm glow, waiting for the girl.
The Mudblood.
She cringed. Of course it would be a muddy little Gryffindor.
Her parents must be rolling in their graves. Her lips quirked upwards at the thought.
So she waited. And waited. And waited.
The dark witch tried not to be agitated at the passing of midnight.
Where was the bloody little harpy? Maybe she wasn't coming. She did tell her to 'come alone or don't come at all'
"Bloody popsy… making me wait here…"
It had been foolish, to invite the girl here. What was she thinking? She wasn't thinking. That was the problem.
Bellatrix stood again, pacing back and forth across the small living room floor. This was a bad idea. She shouldn't have come- shouldn't have wanted to see the girl. But this ache had been building inside her, and Bellatrix couldn't ignore it. How long had it been since she had felt the glimmer of hope? She wanted this. Even if it was with the dirty Mudblood. She craved the companionship she had been denied since childhood.
She had been so excited to go to Hogwarts as a child. To be sorted by the hat and finally have a place outside of her Father and Mother's cold expectations. She had imagined the moment she would receive her Timespell and see the numbers counting down. She was so impatient to meet them. Her soulmate.
After the Head of Slytherin cast the Timespell, the numbers on her wrist never changed.
All were zeroes. No time depicting when she would meet the one person who would love her unconditionally. Nothing but disappointment. She was destined to be unwanted forever it seemed. Her father wanted a son, not a daughter. Her mother wanted a young lady, not a rambunctious witch.
And that was how it was. She grew into a skilled witch with great promise, only to be shackled to the Lestrange Heir. He was not glitched like she was. He had met his soulmate the summer of his second year, but tragically, she died in an accident. Her father had their marriage arranged by the following Christmas. Andromeda was always convinced their father had the poor girl killed off, but it didn't matter either way to Bellatrix. She was still to be caged.
Until the Dark Lord freed her and gave her purpose. It was then, when the night was waning into early morn, and the darkness was casting long shadows in the firelight that it happened. A painful pinch on her wrist caused Bellatrix to look away from the Death Eaters that were gathered discussing their next raid, to look upon something strange. Movement.
Emerald green numbers were counting down.
She didn't register it at first, so strange it was. She kept staring. Until it hit her. With the force of a gale wind it struck her, causing her to stand abruptly, silencing the room.
She couldn't believe her eyes. She screamed at Cissy to look at it. To tell her she was wrong. But her baby sister didn't deny the delusion. She had grabbed her wrist and inspected it, murmuring words of calm and reassurance. It was real. Her timer had started.
She didn't understand how it was possible, until the Dark Lord took her hand in his own and brushed the numbers with his fingers, "It seems, your soulmate was just born."
From that point on, a warmth filled her heart. She had a soulmate. Someone to love and be loved by. Even as the others joked at her expense, cradle robber, cougar and other age-depreciating nonsense. Congratulations and words of encouragement were also given by closer friends and family. Even Rodolphus told her he'd grant the divorce once she'd met them. Saying it would be easier to file once she was mated. She'd have to wait again though. Until her soulmate was of age.
Sixteen years seemed forever.
Especially in Azkaban.
After the Dark Lord fell, she was a mess. Her Master was gone, and life seemed bleak. The time on her wrist ticked so slowly. It was miserable. But she knew it wouldn't last. She knew she would be free again, to meet her love and to serve her Lord. He would return. He did.
And time still wore one. So close she was now. To having everything.
Then it was apparent. That night, the night she would meet them, was upon her and her mission came first. That much the Dark Lord made clear. For they knew, if she was to meet her love tonight, then it would be as enemies.
Once inside the Department of Mysteries, she and the others waited. Lucius gave her a small pat on the shoulder, the only form of encouragement she could bare.
Potter and his friends arrived. Arrogant snot-nosed Potty. She wasn't close enough, but she knew one of his friends was her soulmate. Potter was said to have mated with the ginger brat. So that left the other Weasel, the blonde girl, the brunet boy, and the Mudblood. She did not have as much information on these others as she would have liked going into this, but it didn't matter.
She watched them closely, trying to discern which one would fill the slot as her lover, when Potter called for action. She flew after him, because the Dark Lord's words were law, and met the girl along the way.
The Mudblood tried to fend her off, using many advanced spells most sixth years would not have access to, it surprised the dark witch. As chaos surrounded them, she'd managed to ensnare the girl in a twisting vine hex causing the brunette to scream in pain. It would have been lovely to hear, had their Timers not chimed in that sweet way, lighting up the small corner of the department with a purple and silver hue. All Timers gave off a small light show upon matching. It swirled lightly around them, a slow dance almost- until only the light of the prophetic orbs could illuminate them.
The girl was writhing and gasping in the trap, as Bellatrix gazed at the name now emblazoned upon her wrist: Hermione Granger.
With a snap of her wrist, the vines dissolved and the girl was free.
Bellatrix kicked the girl's wand back towards her, taking one last look at Hermione before leaving to finish the task at hand.
And now here she was, waiting on the girl in this shabby little dwelling, hoping her soul-bond would show up. To what? Talk? To pretend they could somehow be together? No matter how this war ended, there was no happy ending for them. For her.
A wave of sadness rolled over Bellatrix. This is what it was to be her, to be Bellatrix. To always yearn, yet never have.
As the fire had burned low, closer to its end, an agonizing howl ripped itself from her chest, clawing at her heart. She was simmering and burning inside. Why?
Why her? Why now?
Swirls of meaning thundered in her head. Possibilities endless. Yet the thing that gripped her, was the only thing that mattered now. That fear creeped around her shoulders and down her spine causing the Death Eater to shiver.
This was a betrayal to the Dark Lord.
She couldn't be here. She couldn't meet her soul-bond. She had to leave. Now.
Her wand, curved and etched in strange markings, held fast in the air, waiting on the motions, the power and intent her magics would release into it shifting them. Yet she hesitated, waiting that moment more, only to hear the shuffle and clunk behind the secret passage, watching as it opened and small white light shattered the grasping's of her fears. It may as well have been a lighthouse; the light was so bright.
And behind it, holding it, wielding the wand, was Hermione.
"Nox."