A/N: Alright, here we go! Here is a much longer chapter than normal. Because I appreciate you. How sappy of me. I'm curious to know what you all think of the lyrics/poetry I try to remember to put at the beginning of each chapter. Do you listen to the song as you read? Usually, I try to do something that either inspired me while writing the chapter or something thematically related. If there's any song/poem you think I should put I'm always down for new stuff.
Enjoy!
She's the fire in the sin
And I burn breathing her in
Now it's love suicide
And I sell my soul for the high
Truth be told I don't mind
'Cause her hand's my paradise
-Bryce Fox, Horns
Hermione was curled up in a chair in the library of Black Manor, Bellatrix sound asleep on the couch opposite her. Idly, she wondered how the other woman could sleep during one of her few moments of freedom. Although, Hermione had to admit sleeping without the fear of being caught was a lot different. Hermione slowly read the pages of her book, the same one she started last time. As of yet, Hermione couldn't determine what Bellatrix wanted to teach her. There had only been the crazed ranting of the author about the potency of blood and its importance for the magic in the book. Hermione didn't think the purpose of reading this was to put her in her place, Bellatrix didn't believe the blood nonsense any more than she did. She only read this part hoping there would be some useful knowledge in the application of the magic, and because she knew the importance of following Bellatrix's instructions. She was never told what page to turn to, so it was best if she just read all the pages. Still, it was slow going.
Bellatrix stirred, drawing Hermione's attention away from the book. She couldn't help but admire Bellatrix, as she had so many times before. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why she was so drawn to the dark witch. Truthfully, she had been drawn to her since she first laid eyes on her. There was something so...forbidden about the older witch, which served to make her curious and, if she was honest, a little aroused. Hermione shifted, feeling the growing wetness between her legs and trying her best to ignore it, tearing her eyes off Bellatrix and turning back to her book. She had the feeling she was about to reach the end of the ravings and come to the beginning of what she was to learn. She could get through this. She had made it through so much worse.
Bellatrix slowly became aware of her surroundings, the smell of parchment, the fading sunlight, the occasional sound of a page turning. Cracking open her eyes, they wandered around her library before settling on Hermione, curled up in the same position she had been in when they got here. She was so focused on the book that she didn't notice Bellatrix watching her. Her eyes lingered on the brunette's face, tracing the lines of her cheekbones and the delicate curve of her lips. She had long ago accepted her attraction to women over men, hadn't been surprised to discover it in the first place. There was something alluring in being with another woman, and of course, it would make her father roll over in his grave. Her marriage to Lestrange had been a necessity, but they had their...arrangement. He never touched her, even he wasn't stupid enough to try, and they could both pursue whoever they wanted.
She took that moment to ponder what she wanted. Obviously, she wanted to seize control of the Ministry, that much was clear to her. And she definitely wanted Hermione at her side, but in what capacity? As her Lieutenant, sure, but more than that? Maybe? She couldn't deny her attraction, though she did try. She knew how the girl felt, it was obvious to Bellatrix. The desire. The lust. The...well, something else. Something she no longer had the capacity to recognize. Of course, she cared for the girl, was preparing to groom her into one of the most powerful witches in history, just as she was. But there was more than that. She cared as much as she had cared for her sisters before they betrayed her, but it was...different than that. More...powerful. Hermione was hers, she had claimed her.
Letting out a low growl of frustration, Bellatrix pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, forgetting she wasn't alone.
"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, her attention drawn to the dark witch.
"Get up," she demanded, standing as Hermione jumped into a standing position, "Follow me. Bring the book."
Hermione didn't say a word as she followed Bellatrix once again through the decrepit walls of what used to be Black Manor. The portraits here were ripped, or burned, or both. Hermione wondered what secrets a building-well, not much of a building, anymore-held. Still, she followed the dark witch in front of her, questions in her mind she didn't dare voice. She would be given the answers to the important ones. Bellatrix made her way by memory, hardly needing to look around to see where they were. She had spent many tortured years here, enough to have learned every nook and cranny, and where everyone would be at any given time. Now it was just her, her parents dead, her sisters traitors. She wanted to hate them, almost could, but couldn't find it in herself no matter what they did to her. She led Hermione down a staircase only she knew about, circling downward in an almost neverending spiral. At the bottom, she watched Hermione glance around the cavern with awe, glowing blue stone the only light in the large space. It brought a small smile to her face, seeing the girl's expression of awe and wonder.
"You finished it?" Bellatrix asked, her eyes adjusting to the low light.
"Yes," Hermione replied.
"It describes an ancient family ritual, one that, as far as I know, hasn't been performed in generations. We're going to try it," Bellatrix explained, making her way to the center of the cavern, "What do you know about ley lines?"
"Well, not much. I know that some people believe they're paths for spirits, others believe they amplify abilities if you can tap into it," Hermione recalled, the pieces starting to come together, "We're on a ley line."
"Yes. From what I've found, most pureblood homes are built on top of a ley line, allowing the family to unknowingly tap into its power. Most purebloods don't know this anymore. This is what makes them special, not their blood. Growing up on a ley line, being constantly exposed to it, heightens abilities. Each family had their own ritual to allow the head to directly tap into the line at will, from anywhere. It is difficult to survive, it takes extreme discipline and focus, probably why the ritual became lost. We're going to do the one in that book," Bellatrix explained, caressing the smooth altar-like rock.
"What if it kills you?" Hermione asked, fear creeping into her voice.
"It won't. I'm the rightful heir to the title, but that's irrelevant. What's most important is the bond that's created in the process."
"The attendee of the ritual because permanently bound to the Head, allowing limited access to the ley line, determined by the Head," Hermione recited.
"You are to be my Lieutenant, this bond is important and it will make both of us stronger. In our current state, we have no hope of succeeding. We would be overwhelmed."
"How do we start?" Hermione asked, more confident.
"Sit. Remember what I taught you to do with your magic? See if you can feel the ley line," Bellatrix instructed, sitting cross-legged in front of Hermione. She held her magic closely to her, not wanting Hermione to be drawn to it like she seemed to be. Their magic gravitated together, and Bellatrix wasn't sure what to make of that.
"I feel it," Hermione gasped after several moments of silence.
"Good. Now, take it slow, let it mingle with your magic," Bellatrix whispered, observing Hermione for any signs they were moving too fast.
"It's-" Hermione began.
"A lot. I know. Stop when you need to. This can't be rushed. It takes time. Directly tapping into a line has killed witches and wizards who thought they could handle it."
"I'm not sure that last bit makes me feel better," Hermione retorted, drops of sweat forming on her brow.
"It wasn't meant to," Bellatrix said plainly, waiting-almost anxiously-for Hermione to pull her magic away.
With a grunt, Hermione opened her eyes, slumping forward slightly as the power and energy drained away from her. She felt hollow. Having that much power, no wonder purebloods thought they were better than everyone.
"We'll get there. We have time. I'd rather do it right than fuck it up," Bellatrix said, standing and turning away from Hermione.
If Hermione didn't know Bellatrix as well as she had come to, she would have thought Bellatrix was disappointed in her, but she heard the hint of pride lacing her words. Bellatrix got like this, sometimes pulling her closer than she thought possible and other times holding her at arm's length. It didn't bother her, as long as she never left. Hermione respected Bellatrix's need for distance, continuing to stay seated on the floor as Bellatrix wandered aimlessly. The book had been placed on the altar in preparation for the day Hermione was ready.
Hermione observed her students as they dueled each other, correcting where necessary and awarding house points where she thought it was deserved. Her mood had somewhat stabilized over the past few weeks, something her students were grateful for. Waiting for her students to finish, she leaned against her desk, watching closely until the last pair had finished.
"Good work, all of you. I wouldn't say any of you have mastered the skill, but now that you've more experience with dueling, can someone explain why disarming your opponent is not always a decisive victory outside of an honorable duel?" Hermione waited patiently for an answer, not entirely expecting one.
When she grew tired of waiting for an answer, she began, "Not every witch or wizard requires a wand for magic. There are many people who never use a wand when learning magic, and there are many people who master the ability to cast wandlessly. When faced with an opponent that is able to cast without a wand, disarming them is not enough. When fighting for your life, you must always assume your opponent does not need their wand, and either fight to stun or kill, depending on the situation. Some people rely on killing only as a last resort, and others use it regardless of the threat."
"Professor, during the war did you ever have to kill anyone?" a Slytherin asked.
Hermione thought back to her year on the run, to Malfoy Manor, and to the Battle at Hogwarts. Did she? It was mostly blurry, like trying to look through glasses that weren't her own. So many of her memories were like that. There were only a few she could remember clearly. A small frown adorned her face as she tried to remember. Did she want to know? The more she thought about it, the clearer her memories became. Just one memory, one with Ginny and Ron and...someone else. He was battling the two of them, about to overtake them when Hermione freed herself from her own battle with Yaxley by knocking him into the pavement so hard his head split open. Somehow, she managed to sneak up behind the man, surprising him a curse that ultimately ended in his death. And, of course, there was Dolohov, but that was technically after.
"Yes, I did," she finally answered, her voice quiet but still strong, "Please review stunning spells for next class. Dismissed."
Her students, grateful they weren't assigned an essay, quickly packed their belongings and trickled out of the classroom. Hermione watched them go, trying to ignore the sorrow she currently felt. There had been so much death, and was too powerless to prevent any of it. Bellatrix perched on her shoulder, rubbing her feathered head against Hermione's cheek. She let her beak just barely break the skin of Hermione's face, bringing her Lieutenant back to herself.
"Thanks," she mumbled, pushing off the desk to make her way to the Great Hall for dinner.
The stone of the cavern was cool underneath Hermione as she sat cross-legged on the floor. She reached out with her magic just as she did last time, allowing the power of the ley line to mingle with her own. It wasn't as shocking as it was last time, but still the change in power was tangible. It rushed through her veins, filled the air around her. She fought to keep the flow slow and steady, not wanting to overwhelm herself. She drew it in until she couldn't anymore, and just as quickly as the power filled her, it left, leaving her feeling just as hollow as before. She rested while Bellatrix paced the cavern, making note of all the important details. She was holding a piece of parchment in her hands, referencing it as she made her way around the cavern. She knew Hermione would progress fast, it shouldn't be too much longer. She wanted to make sure everything was just as it needed to be. She couldn't afford for this to be fucked up. Everything was riding on this going perfectly.
"Come on. Nothing else we can do here," Bellatrix said finally, pulling Hermione to her feet.
"How about a little duel?" Hermione proposed.
"Sounds like you're asking me to kick your ass," Bellatrix responded.
"Last I checked you love making me into the best Lieutenant I can be."
"Cheeky. I might have to make you pay for that," Bellatrix relented, leading the way into what used to be the garden.
Hermione couldn't stop the hammering of her pulse as she bowed to Bellatrix, both of them counting their steps aloud. Hermione wasted no time in starting her offense, firing off a quick barrage of spells, marveling at how easily Bellatrix evaded them all. The retaliation she got was strong, and didn't let up for some time. Left with no openings, Hermione was forced into switching to a defensive position, surprising herself with her ability to block and dodge Bellatrix's attack. A year ago she wouldn't have stood a chance. Hermione knew her only chance to stop defending was to create an opening, so she dropped her shield spell and fired a series of stunners as she dove into a roll to avoid the spells coming her way. Coming into a standing position, she cast a powerful Confringo at the ground in front of Bellatrix, just as she felt a binding spell wrap around her ankles, causing her to fall forward. She did her best to roll as she hit the ground, trying to reverse the spell while fending off Bellatrix. In the end, she grew too tired to keep on, and Bellatrix disarmed her after several powerful spells.
"Not bad. You did better than I thought. But I couldn't let you win. Now, I think it's time to celebrate," Bellatrix said, a wicked, predatory smile on her face.
Hermione knew what was coming, could feel the anticipation making her temperature rise as she waited for Bellatrix to cast her signature curse. She didn't have to wait long, she never did.
"Crucio," Bellatrix cast, pupils darkening as Hermione writhed in pain. Bellatrix knew how much Hermione could take. For the first few minutes, she would be lost in the pleasure of the pain, and before long it would grow to be overwhelming and she would pass out. This was Hermione's reward. She had done well, even made a half-decent attempt at getting herself out of her defensive position, and she had cast the first spells. Bellatrix was proud of her, of the progress she had made. She may be cruel at times, but she was always fair. Hard work would always be rewarded, and she knew this was what Hermione craved.
Bellatrix released the spell, watching with dark eyes as Hermione slowly stopped quivering. She had instinctively curled into a ball, and as the after-effects of the spell wore off, the young witch stretched her limbs gently, moving slowly until she was fully in control. Hermione had quickly learned to take it slow as the spell finished wearing off.
"We're going to play a game today. I hope you all reviewed your stunning spells because you'll be putting them to good use. Whoever would like to attempt to land one on me will earn fifty house points if they succeed. I will not fire a single spell, and you may use any stunner you know, but if you use anything other than a stunner, sixty house points will be deducted and you will serve a week of detention. Including weekends. It will be one-on-one, so if you were hoping to ambush me, you are out of luck. There is no penalty for trying, and you may try until you are successful or too tired to continue," Hermione announced to her class, making a point of showing them that her wand would be placed on her desk, out of reach.
Hermione walked to the center of the dueling mat, waiting for a student to approach. She had a feeling a Slytherin would make the first attempt. Her students hesitated, unsure of whether she was serious. Finally, a Slytherin boy approached her, a little nervously.
"Count off the steps," Hermione instructed, leaning into a bow as he approached.
"One, two, three, four," the boy swallowed, adjusting his grip on his wand, "Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten."
Gulping, the boy spun around, finding his teacher standing passively twenty paces away, waiting for his attack. She didn't look prepared at all, and he felt a little more confident in his abilities. He didn't know many stunners, was only a second-year, after all, but it didn't matter. All he had to do was hit her with one spell. It didn't even have to be strong. He could conserve his energy, firing weaker spells in the hopes of outlasting her. He was a little doubtful he'd be able to do that, but it was the best strategy he had.
Casting his first spell, he was sure it was going to hit dead-on, but Hermione leaned at the last second, just enough for it to miss her. After the first spell, he was less hesitant in his actions. Hermione dodged the same way each time, leaning just enough for the spell to fly right past her. She was conserving her energy too, knowing that the smarter students would wait for everyone else to try in the hopes of catching her off guard. She couldn't let fifty house points be awarded easily. She had made it as fair as she could, not allowing herself to use magic even to defend. The second years were a lot different from Bellatrix, most of them wouldn't be skilled enough to fire multiple spells at a time, so she wouldn't have to constantly defend as she did with Bellatrix. Leaning out of the way of another spell, Hermione noticed her student beginning to grow tired, but still filled with enough determination that he could make a few more attempts. He made a good attempt, purposely not using his full strength when casting so he had more endurance, but Hermione had more stamina than he did, and in the end he let his wand drop, signalling his defeat.
"A strong first attempt with a thought-out approach, as well as being ambitious enough to go first. Fifteen points to Slytherin," Hermione said, watching the boy brighten with the praise.
A Hufflepuff approached next, and she gave him the same instructions, allowing her students as much time as they wished. She continued to dodge using as little energy as possible. She made it through nearly three-quarters of the class before she began to feel her energy starting to dip. She could feel Bellatrix watching her closely from the desk, and she was determined to live up to the expectation of being the older woman's Lieutenant. She wanted to earn praise from the dark witch she had pledged herself to. Another student yielded and the next approached. Hermione had hoped the incentive of fifty house points was enough to encourage every student to try, especially since there was no penalty for being unable to.
One-by-one, her students relented, unable to catch their professor off guard. A knock on the door sounded throughout the room despite the noise, and Hermione called out for the person to enter, not losing her concentration on the student currently attempting to hit her. She allowed the student to finish his assault before she turned to the guest.
"I know I'm no second year, but I don't suppose I could take a shot at you? For the honor of my house, of course," Ginny asked.
"If you want to practice, you can find me anytime. What do you need?" Hermione asked.
"Professor McGonagall sent me, but it can wait until after. I'll just watch. I'll pretend it's Quidditch," Ginny teased.
"And you waiting here has nothing to do with avoiding a lecture from Binns?" Hermione questioned, raising her brow.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Professor," she replied, hiding her smile.
"You can sit at my desk. Who's next?"
Hermione made her way back to the dueling mat, waiting for the next student. There were only a few left, all hoping that by the time they tried, Hermione would be too tired to dodge as smoothly. They tried as hard as they could, but Hermione had been trained by one of the best duelists alive, unbeknownst to her students, and she had lived through a war where one wrong move meant death. Some of her students tried to fake which way their spell would go, but Bellatrix had trained her extensively on how to spot when someone would try to fake. It manifested differently in everyone, but it was different from their normal cast, and that was the key. Try as they might, the students were unable to make their spells make contact.
"Excellent tries from both houses, ten points to each. Can anyone tell me the purpose of this game?" Hermione asked.
"So we improve our stamina?" One student answered uncertainly.
"Not quite. What's the one thing everyone did when they were on the offense?" Hermione prompted.
"Our spells. We didn't cast them successively, there was always time in between. And we all only cast one at a time, not multiple like you during the demonstration," a Hufflepuff answered.
"That's correct. Five points," Hermione said, "After every single one of your spells, you gave me time to recover. Now, I wouldn't exactly call myself your opponent, but in a duel, the more time your opponent has to rest, the longer the fight. In a real-world scenario, the prolonged duel leaves you exposed and drains your energy. This takes practice and discipline. For those of you that wish to improve by leaps and bounds, you may approach me and we will arrange practices. Dismissed."
Hermione watched her students leave, turning her full attention to Ginny.
"So, mum wrote a letter to McGonagall asking her to let you come to the Burrow for Christmas. McGonagall told her that you were free to make your own decisions about where to stay. And, well, Mum is in McGonagall's office demanding to speak to you. She sent me to let you know. You don't have to come. Mum can be a lot, and I know you need your space. I can tell her you had too much work to do," Ginny said, starting to rant.
"It's okay, Ginny. I suppose I should've expected her to want me to come. I didn't think she'd show up at school, though," Hermione said, reaching to grab her wand. Bellatrix looked at her with narrowed eyes, anger burning in the dark depths.
"Yeah, I didn't even know she wrote McGonagall. I would've told you."
"I know. Why don't you go ahead? Tell them I'll be there after I take care of some work. I just need a little time to prepare," Hermione answered.
"Yeah, okay. I'll be there the whole time," Ginny reassured, leaving her friend to gather her composure before facing the Weasley matron. She was well out of earshot when the lock of Hermione's door clicked.
"This is outrageous," Bellatrix began, the words coming out as a growl.
"I'm not going to stay there, Bellatrix. I can't. For one, you'd be trapped, and for two, we should take that time to do the ritual so we can recover or whatever," Hermione answered.
"She killed me, but you're still going to talk to her!" she spat.
"And once I do, she won't bother us. I'm not going to leave you. You know that. But I know you need me to prove it, and I will after dinner."
"Fine," Bellatrix relented, shifting back into a raven.
Molly paced Minerva's office, waiting anxiously for Hermione to arrive. Ginny had given up trying to get her mother to calm down, and Minerva watched silently, hoping that Hermione would be able to handle the encounter. The door creaked as it opened, and Molly's head shot up, her pacing instantly changing course to envelop Hermione in a hug before she was fully in the room.
"Hermione, dear," Molly began, squeezing the brunette tightly, "We've missed you. You know we're here for you, why haven't you visited?"
"It's been a lot to deal with," Hermione began, struggling out of the oppressive embrace, "I wasn't ready to face it all. I needed time away. I still do. I can't stay for Christmas. There are too many memories there. Too many ghosts. I can't face them. Not yet."
Molly's face dropped as soon as Hermione tried to break the hug, and her expression grew sadder as Hermione continued to explain. She let her arms fall to her sides, just noticing the raven that moved back to Hermione's shoulder. She surveyed the young woman in front of her, examining the ways she had changed since she had first met the girl. Feeling a lump in her throat, the Weasley matron nodded, not trusting herself to speak without tears forming. She moved back, giving Hermione space.
"I should go," Hermione stated quietly. She turned and left before anyone could stop her, making her way to her chambers. She wasn't in the mood to eat in the Great Hall, having to deal with the chaos didn't appeal to her at the moment.
Hermione locked the door as soon as it was closed, knowing when she turned around Bellatrix would be ready to hold her to her promise. As Hermione turned around, her body hit the door, making her breath leave her. Dazed, Hermione barely registered Bellatrix's command to get up. She hadn't even realized she wasn't standing. Rising to her feet, Hermione ignored the tilting of the room, focusing on Bellatrix instead. The dark witch's face was contorted with anger, the air crackling with energy.
"Stupefy!" She cast, taking great pleasure in the immediate disorientation Hermione experienced.
The young witch dropped to her knees, unable to think for several moments.
"Don't move," Bellatrix commanded, stalking over to the fireplace to start a fire.
Hermione stayed kneeling, barely moving to breathe. She wasn't sure what was coming, but she couldn't help the excitement she felt. Bellatrix beckoned her with a quick wave of her hand, and Hermione rushed over, returning to her kneeling position once she was in front of Bellatrix.
"Such a smart witch," Bellatrix murmured, bending her knees until her eyes were level with Hermione's, "If you move at all you will regret it."
Hermione swallowed, nervous for the first time since Bellatrix began mentoring her. She steeled herself, not knowing what was coming but having a pretty solid guess. Bellatrix tore off Hermione's sleeve, exposing the scar she had created. It was beautiful in a crude way, and her fingertips gently traced the skin as she grabbed Hermione by the wrist. Hermione allowed Bellatrix to manipulate her body through her arm, keeping herself still even as Bellatrix moved her arm closer to the fire. Heat kissed Hermione's skin, the flame close enough that she could feel it licking her skin. Bellatrix held her wand parallel to the ground, slowly rotating it so the tip was pointed at Hermione. As she did, a piece of flame branched off from the fire, wrapping around the scar on Hermione's forearm. She almost flinched at the suddenness and intensity of the heat, but forced herself to stay still, gritting her teeth as her flesh formed blisters. Bellatrix's lip twitched in pride, turning her wand away from Hermione and watching as the fire retreated. Hermione's eyes were filled with tears but she refused to let them fall, refused to let her body slump when the fire was no longer wrapped around her arm. Bellatrix knelt in front of Hermione, the tip of her wand pointed at the burned skin. She refused to look up at the young witch in front of her. Hermione struggled to understand what Bellatrix murmured as the skin of her arm became perfectly healed. All traces of the burn- and her scar- were gone.
"Before the Dark Lord gave us our Mark, he purified our flesh with fire. Unbeknownst to him, I managed to figure out how he did it after months of practicing on myself and researching in libraries," Bellatrix whispered, sliding her thumb across the perfect flesh, "Now, I'm going to give you a proper Mark. One that reflects your connection to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. You are to be my Lieutenant."
Hermione understood the unspoken command to stay still and quiet as Bellatrix placed the tip of her wand against her forearm, the skin yielding to the pressure. A sensation akin to being submerged in cold water overtook Hermione, and she clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. The sensation localized in her arm, wriggling as it took its shape. Hermione stared in awe as the magic under her skin condensed and dissipated, leaving behind the images of a greyhound and a raven in black on her arm.
"The greyhound is part of the family crest, signifying your soon-to-be permanent connection to my house, and the raven, well, that shouldn't be too hard to figure out," Bellatrix explained, "They are created by magic, so don't be surprised if they move. They're localized to that area but aren't strictly tied to it."
Hermione stared at her forearm, watching as the greyhound broke into a run, the raven beating its wings fiercely over its head. Both creatures stayed in place, but Hermione was still captivated by the action.
"Thank you," Hermione mumbled, keeping her body still even as her muscles cramped from staying in one position.
"Stand up," Bellatrix said, tossing her wand onto the couch and making her way to Hermione's desk. She half sat, half leaned against a corner, observing her Lieutenant. Hermione grunted as she hoisted herself onto her feet, her muscles delighting and protesting at the movement. Bellatrix nodded, unable- and slightly unwilling- to voice her thoughts.
Bellatrix stood at the altar-stone, meticulously centering the open book on its surface. Hermione doubled checked that they had the center of the ley-line located at the correct place, even though Bellatrix had checked every time they visited. They both knew Bellatrix was stalling. Everything was ready, they were ready, but Bellatrix insisted on checking everything to the point where even Hermione thought it was getting to be excessive. Finally, Bellatrix took her position over the ley line, crossing her legs and closing her eyes.
"Whatever happens, whatever you feel, don't stop reading," Bellatrix instructed once the sound of Hermione's footsteps ceased.
Hermione took a deep breath and began, feeling the energy in the cavern change as soon as she began. She could independently feel both the ley line and Bellatrix's magic, the air developing a static charge. Hermione didn't let herself get distracted, not when the hairs on her arms stood up, or the air felt like it was being sucked out of her lungs, not even when the force of Bellatrix's magic and the ley line caused a stone to crack. Hermione kept reading, long past the point where her voice grew hoarse. The sound of splitting rock and the sensation of electricity in the air called for her attention, but she knew if she stopped now the discharge would kill them both.
Bellatrix could vaguely make out the sound of Hermione's voice in the chaos of her mind. She could feel the ley line trying to simultaneously merge with her and strip her of her magic. Fighting for control, Bellatrix focused on the rhythmic cadence of the spell Hermione was repeating, letting it tether her to her state of relative sanity. She couldn't tell what was happening around her, but she persisted in siphoning the ley line into her consciousness, progressing slowly to avoid killing either one of them. She didn't know how much she needed to take, she just knew she would know when it was over.
A loud cracking sound nearly made Hermione jump out of her skin, and almost distracted her enough that she stopped reading, but she kept on, not sure when it would be over. The air around her grew lighter, less oppressive, and her eyes flicked to Bellatrix just long enough to see dark eyes open before her eyes turned back to the page. Hermione let her chanting die down slowly, solidifying the ancient magic at work. Bellatrix stood, stretching her arms above her head as she turned to face Hermione.
"It'll be a few days before the magic of the ley line is reestablished. Until then, neither of us will be able to tap into it, even here," Bellatrix said, leading them out of the cavern.
Hermione only nodded, her throat too sore to verbalize her response as she dutifully followed the dark witch. Bellatrix led them up a crumbling staircase, to a door that had certainly seen better days but was somehow still in one piece. Pushing it open with her toe, she entered the room, quickly Scourgifying the grime. Bellatrix flicked her wand, satisfied when it shut firmly behind Hermione. She stalked toward the younger witch, easing her against the door. Hermione met her gaze, pupils dilating with need.
Harshly, Bellatrix grabbed a fistful of Hermione's hair, yanking her head roughly to the side. She could practically taste Hermione's blood already, could see the artery jumping beneath her skin. Bellatrix inhaled deeply as she pressed her lips against the spot, feeling the pulsing of Hermione's blood as it careened through her body. Almost delicately, she bit into the soft skin until the sweetly metallic taste blossomed on her tongue, awakening every nerve in her body. Bellatrix pushed closer to the body essentially underneath her, not sure where her own body ended and Hermione's began. She felt a hand in her hair and nails on her waist, inhaling as warmth in the shape of half-moons spread through the area. Bellatrix slid the nails of her free hand over the bite she had just created, pulling her head away.
In a rare moment of assertiveness, Hermione leaned forward, trapping Bellatrix's blood-stained bottom lip between her teeth. She ran her tongue across it, collecting her own blood on her tongue as she roughly sucked Bellatrix's bottom lip. Indulging her, Bellatrix adjusted her grip to the back of Hermione's neck, swiftly darting her tongue across Hermione's upper lip. Hermione moaned, pulling Bellatrix closer by her hip.
"How far would you go for me, Hermione?" Bellatrix husked, brushing her lips against Hermione's ear.
At the sound of her name falling off the older woman's lips, Hermione nearly melted, but was able to respond with, "However far you asked me to."
Bellatrix hummed in satisfaction, sliding her hand down Hermione's back, "And how far do you want me to take you?"
Hermione's breath hitched as Bellatrix's hand reached the hem of her shirt. "As far as possible."
"And who do you belong to?" She inquired, sliding her hand up Hermione's abdomen.
"You," Hermione answered simply, arching into Bellatrix's warm hand.
"Crucio," Bellatrix whispered against Hermione's ear, her hand flat against Hermione's sternum and their bodies pushed together.
Hermione inhaled sharply as the curse made its way through her body, Bellatrix holding her up. Her pupils widened as she felt Hermione's tremors against her body and the fluttering of her heart against her hand. She poured a little more energy into the spell, delighting in Hermione's reaction. Hermione's body shook with such force Bellatrix could barely keep her pinned against the door. Hermione felt her body on the verge of collapse, her vision starting to swim as pleasure and pain flooded her body. She was acutely aware of Bellatrix pressed closely to her, the hand on her chest, even through the overwhelming sensations. She could always feel Bellatrix when she was near. Hermione's knees buckled, and Bellatrix supported her entire weight as she moved them to the bed, releasing the curse. Pulling back the blanket, Bellatrix settled them both into the bed, transfiguring their clothes into something more appropriate for sleeping. She pulled the blanket back up, wrapping her arms around the young witch and sleepily mumbling healing spells.