A/N Welcome to chapter three readers. I'm not sure I mentioned but this story will not be pleasant or happy or anything of the sort. It will be rough and raw and brutal. So, if that's not your thing you might want to forget about this story. If it is your thing, then welcome and I hope you enjoy the twisted story of our lovely witches.
Thus strangely are our souls constructed, and by such slight ligaments are we bound to prosperity or ruin.
-Frankenstein, Mary Shelley
Hermione waited in Minerva's office for her to Apparate them to the Isle of Man. She was more than capable of doing it herself, but Minerva would not allow her to, worried the girl would disappear. It's not that she didn't trust Hermione, not entirely, anyway. She did trust her but her judgment wasn't sound right now and Minerva didn't want to run the risk of losing Hermione. She was hesitant to leave the girl by herself but had no other choice, really. She would never get better if she continued down her current path.
Minerva gently approached Hermione, holding out her arm for the girl to take before Apparating them to her cottage on the Isle of Man. Hermione took her fingers off Minerva's arm, studying the area with a blank expression. It was beautiful but Hermione didn't feel any different than she had at Hogwarts. She looked over at Minerva, waiting for the older witch to move first. The Headmistress led Hermione down the dirt drive to the cottage where her friend was waiting on the front porch.
"Hullo, Minny. Nice to see you again! Is this Hermione?" he greeted cheerfully rising with a wave.
"Nice to see you too, Jerry. Yes, this is Hermione. Hermione, this is my friend, Jerry. If you need anything he can help you. He lives on the property with his wife, about a mile east," Minerva explained. Hermione nodded, not saying anything. Jerry's smile didn't falter, but Minerva found herself frowning again at Hermione's lack of anything.
"Hullo, Hermione. I'm Jerry. My wife is named Linda. She's with a client but she promised to come over when she's done," he said, extending his hand to Hermione.
"What does your wife do?" she whispered, hesitantly taking his hand.
"We both work as private soul healers. And we maintain Minerva's property when she's not here in exchange for a place to stay."
Hermione's eyes narrowed and she pulled her hand away, turning to glare at Minerva.
"Hermione, do not give me that look. I did not bring you here so they could treat you. I brought you here because you need time away from everything. If you wish to be treated you can make the arrangements yourself. I apologize, but I must be returning to Hogwarts. Say hello to Linda for me," Minerva said, laying a gentle hand on Hermione's shoulder before removing it and Disapparating. Hermione remained where she was, carefully studying the man in front of her. The voices in her head screamed at her to run, the beasts trying to drag her back, away. This man would be able to see them. Hermione stared blankly at Jerry. She did not need a soul healer, didn't want one. They would take it all away and Hermione couldn't live without the beasts anymore.
"Would you like to go inside? We can have biscuits and tea and I'll tell you about the property and what's in town," Jerry said, still smiling gently at Hermione. He could see the damage to her psyche but would not push her to talk if she didn't want to. And he could see that she really didn't want to. Hermione nodded and Jerry led her to the small living room.
"Dolly is the house elf here, just call her if you need anything. You won't be able to Apparate directly into the cottage if you leave but you can Apparate to the drive. Only Minerva, myself, and Linda can Apparate onto the property and there are wards preventing anyone from entering so you will not have to worry about reporters following you. Anyone directly accompanying you will be allowed access but will always need you with them to get past the wards. If you have any appetite preferences just tell Dolly. Linda and I are always at your disposal should you need us or want company. One of us will be by every few days to check in on you."
Jerry took a seat after Hermione did, sitting across from her and pouring her a cup of tea. She took it, not saying anything, just staring into the cup of dark liquid. She nodded when he finished speaking but still didn't say anything. He observed her carefully, making note of the dull eyes and gaunt figure, the way her shoulders naturally hunched as if the entire world rested on her shoulders, the way she tapped her fingers against the side of the cup or bounced her leg ever so slightly. He could see the careful mask of neutrality she wore, knowing it was because she couldn't face all that happened yet. He saw the way her hand would sometimes rub over a scar on her left forearm, eyes flickering with remembered pain.
"Can I ask you something, Hermione?"
She shrugged, not saying yes but not saying no. Jerry decided it was safe to continue after a moment of observing her.
"Why are you so hesitant to see a soul healer?"
Hermione was quiet for a moment, gathering her thoughts before asking, "Have you been able to help every single person that comes to you?"
"There are some cases where my wife and I end up referring patients to a different soul healer because we are unable to assist them but as far as we know, they benefit from the person we recommend. Not everyone can be healed, though. It can be an agonizing process and there are some who would rather be broken than go through the pain of being fixed."
"When you say fixed how do you mean?"
"It's difficult to explain. I could give a small demonstration but I know you don't want that. When the soul breaks, insanity sometimes slips through the cracks. Other times, a person's personality will change entirely. It depends on the damage and the person. When a soul is fixed, it seals the crack but the soul is sometimes still scarred. Sort of like fixing a mirror by Muggle means you can see where it was broken but it's not anymore."
Hermione looked thoughtful, her knees pulled to her chest and her chin resting on top. Her fingers tapped against her knees and there was a hint of curiosity in the normally blank eyes. Jerry searched her for any signs of discomfort and found none. The front door opened and closed and Hermione withdrew slightly.
"Linda, this is Hermione. Hermione, this is Linda," Jerry said, hugging his wife and turning to Hermione as he introduced her.
"Hello, Hermione. It's nice to finally meet you," Linda spoke softly, kneeling in front of Hermione and giving her a gentle, genuine smile. Hermione regarded her for a moment, hesitation clear on her face before she nodded. Linda took in her appearance. She clutched her knees to her chest and she looked fragile but Linda could tell that she was not as weak as her body led a person to believe. Her eyes were dark and haunted, her face stony, betraying no emotion. She could see the restlessness of someone who was used to constantly moving about and the way she seemed to be listening behind her as if she were being chased or someone was whispering in her ear.
"Hello," Hermione finally whispered, observing Linda as she had been observing her. The witch was cheery, teeth white and voice kind. She had pleasant features and brown hair, well tamed. Linda's smile grew, glad Hermione had spoken.
"Unless you wish for us to stay, we will be going, but feel free to find us or ask Dolly to fetch us'," Jerry said, watching the exchange between Hermione and his wife.
Jerry and Linda both looked to Hermione who shrugged, not really caring one way or the other if they stayed. They didn't push her to talk like everyone else did but she also enjoyed being away from other people. She had been with Harry and Ron for so long, it was difficult for her to be with anyone else. And it was hard having two people studying her so closely. She felt like they could see the beasts behind her and she didn't want them to. They were hers and if anyone knew, her twisted comfort would be gone. Jerry and Linda looked at each other, recognizing the girl's unstated desire to be alone before taking their leave together.
"Dolly?" Hermione called after a few moments of sitting on the couch.
"Yes, Miss Hermione?" the house elf asked as she appeared with a faint pop.
"If I write a letter, can you deliver it? Or is there an owl I can use?"
"Whichever you prefer, Miss. Would you like Dolly to bring you a quill and parchment?"
"Yes."
Bellatrix sat in her tree, waiting for Hermione to take her evening wander around the grounds. It was already later than normal, but Bellatrix suspected that if Hermione was going to leave for good, it would be in the dead of night when no one could stop her. Still, Bellatrix couldn't help the feeling that Hermione hadn't actually seen her that night and was done walking by the woods. It was nearly midnight when she gave up, her mood soured as she Apparated back home to Black Manor. Throwing open the door, she was met with the sight of her house elf bent in a trembling bow, a piece of parchment held in shaking hands. Bellatrix tore the letter from the house elf's hands, glaring at everything as she opened the letter.
The Isle of Man. Shelby Reservoir. East side. Midnight.
Bellatrix let the letter fall from her hand as she Apparated to the indicated location. She would be getting her wand back tonight, along with something much more useful. She couldn't help her excitement as she glanced around the area, searching for Hermione. It was a few minutes past midnight but she hoped the girl would still be here. Looking around, she saw her sitting by the edge of the water, looking at the reflection of the sky on the black water.
"Hello, pup. Did you miss me?" Bellatrix asked, standing next to the brunette. Hermione looked up at the dark witch, a small smile on her face, her eyes alive.
"I wasn't sure you'd come," she whispered, lips barely moving as black eyes bore into her own. She was captivated by the onyx hair, ivory skin, and ruby lips. She shivered, remembering how it had felt to be under the dark witch. Bellatrix smirked, sitting next to Hermione on the grass. She recognized the look in Hermione's deep hazel eyes, the way they were gently unfocused, going back to when she had carved the word into tender flesh.
"Of course I would. You belong to me, pup. I know you haven't forgotten," she whispered, breath fanning out over Hermione's neck. She roughly gripped a thin wrist, nails digging into soft skin. Hermione gasped, eyes falling closed. Pain was the only thing she could truly feel and she had grown to love it over the years. She hadn't needed it so much since she had met Harry and Ron but she needed it now.
"Here's your wand." Hermione held the bent walnut out to the dark witch, lowering her hand to the grass as Bellatrix took it. She was not afraid of the dark witch anymore. The scar she had given her would be with her forever and Hermione was glad for it. She wasn't ashamed of it but she knew other people were. Bellatrix watched as Hermione ran her fingers over the word carved into her flesh.
"You always were such a smart girl. Tell me what you hear. When you're listening behind you, what do you hear? What has you constantly looking over your shoulder?" Bellatrix dragged her teeth roughly down Hermione's neck, the girl inhaling sharply as the pain flooded her system, mixed with something unfamiliar.
"I'm listening to the screams of the dead, the growls of beasts I have no name for. The hounds of death nip at my heels, waiting until the moment they can drag me back through the gates."
"Tell me."
Hermione lied down, hair sprawling behind her as she began, "I was maybe nine. It was an accident with my magic. I made my dad crash the car, a Muggle mode of transportation. We hit a tree and the frame of the backseat collapsed. One of the jagged pieces got me through the chest. I didn't know what happened, I was just suddenly somewhere else, somewhere horrible. There were screams everywhere and I could feel things pressing closer and closer to me. I don't know how long it was before Death found me. He told me he was sorry because I would have to carry that place with me for the rest of my life and that there were things I had to do. He sent me back and I couldn't-didn't-feel anything anymore. Everything was so messed up and all I could do to feel alive was hurt. So I did and I hid it from everyone."
"You don't have to hide it anymore. I'm going to help you. But in return, you have to help me."
"Anything. Just fill the whole inside me," Hermione begged.
"For now, I need you to get better. You have to be stronger if you're going to be standing at my side."
"At your side?"
"Yes, pup. You will be the catalyst."
"Why me?"
"Because you gave me what I need to secure my hold on the world. You were instrumental in destroying Voldemort and don't think I'm unaware of the Ministry not looking for my body. What did you tell them when you noticed my body was missing? You knew I was still alive. Why did you lie for me?" Bellatrix leaned over Hermione, blocking out her view of the sky. Hermione stared into dark eyes, memorizing the swirls of black and madness.
"You gave me something, it was only fair I give you something in return. I told them I burned your body after the battle as retribution for the crimes you committed."
"What did I give you, pup?" Bellatrix leaned close, an impossible distance between them. The two witches should have been touching, looked like they were if there had been an observer. Bellatrix stared into hazel eyes, memorizing the swirls of pain and apathy and insanity, smiling wide at what she found. It would be so easy.
"You gave me this," Hermione said, her scarred arm displayed for the ex-Death Eater. Bellatrix's eyes gleamed with a predatory glee as her eyes traced the crudely shaped letters.
"Do you miss them? Potter and Weasley, the two martyrs of the world? They left you all alone, poor pup."
"Sometimes."
"They were fated to die."
"And the world is fated to rebuild. But the dead do not answer to fate, I do not answer to fate."
"Who do you answer to, then?"
"I answer to you. I'm sick of this world."
"Such a good pup. The world will never know what hit it. And I shall guide you down the path you so desperately wish to walk, little witch." Bellatrix dragged her fingernails down Hermione's arm, feeling the slightly raised letters she had carved only a few months ago. Red lines appeared on the brunette's arm, ornamented with droplets of crimson.
"Bellatrix, they're going to see them. They're going to take them from me."
"I won't let them," Bellatrix whispered, biting Hermione's neck, dropping Hermione's wand on the grass before Disapparating. Hermione sat near the edge of the water, fingers dancing over the red lines on her arm. She felt a trickle of blood down her neck and couldn't help the smile on her face at the sensation. She couldn't explain why she had been so eager to join the dark witch without asking questions, but she had felt something she hadn't since Harry and Ron died. She had felt home. Bitter laughter escaped her as she came to the realization that the two brightest witches of their ages were going to tear the world apart.
Bellatrix couldn't help the deranged smile on her face as she appeared back at her Manor. She could still taste Hermione's blood on her tongue and knowing the girl hadn't hesitated to join her made her feel victorious. She hadn't expected it to be so easy. Hermione hadn't even tried to fight her. Now she had her wand back and she had the Golden Girl to guide further into insanity. She was nearly there already but there were people keeping her from embracing it, no matter how hard Hermione fought them they dragged her back. She would take care of them in time but she could not act too soon. She knew Hermione was being monitored and she needed to devise a plan to get her where she really belonged. Laughter echoed through the dark halls of Black Manor as Bellatrix celebrated her assured victory.