A/N: I ended up on the reviews page for this story and... well, the last moment of it was on Valentines Day. So I thought now was the perfect time to try my hand at another chapter. Enjoy.
"What a way to end our Valentines date," Hermione sighed, slumped on the sofa in Ms Mills' chamber while the other woman rattled about making some sort of potion - or it might have been tea. From the smell, Hermione wasn't sure. "A dead mouse."
"A very very shrivelled, old, wrinkly dead mouse."
"Bella, I think you're going to be fine," Hermione said quietly. "Mice are tiny, and you've been on the same dosage as it - you're an adult human witch. Naturally you'll react to it differently, and I don't think it's going to kill you like it did Mouse Senior."
"But I can't take that risk, Hermione. I'm not about to allow myself to be found dead at my desk looking like I've already been decomposing for a week."
Hermione stood, hearing pots and pans clashing and spoons scraping and ingredients spilling. She made her way over, standing behind Bellatrix, and took gentle hold of her forearms. She slowed them to a halt, and then brought them to Bella's chest, so that Hermione was holding her from behind.
"Either way," She began gently, "You can't work like this. So stressed, so on edge - let the answer come to you naturally, don't force it. Now, close your eyes."
Bellatrix hesitated, but then did as instructed. "I want you to think about all of the ingredients I used in the original potion. I want you to think about the method I used. I know you remember the exact process." Hermione cleared her mind at the same time, hoping they could find the answer together. It came to her, very slowly.
Bellatrix nodded, taking deep breaths and leaning back into Hermione's hold. "You started with-"
"Don't say it out loud," Hermione interrupted. "Think it. Recall it. Tell me what you know is important."
"Lacewing flies," Bellatrix mumbled, as if she was falling asleep. "Necessary in polyjuice. They're what allow features to change, retain elasticity."
"And..." Hermione prompted. "Polyjuice allows you to look like anyone, anyone at all, older or younger. What's the only thing in polyjuice that's not in my potion?" She whispered.
Bella's eyes snapped open and she turned in Hermione's arms, a new hope shining in her eyes. "Fluxweed! To alter the body's clock so one reacts correctly to an old man's broken hip or a young child's energy! Oh, Hermione, I could kiss you. In fact, I will," She smiled, pulling her girlfriend closer.
Hermione laughed into it, one hand holding gently to the back of Bellatrix's neck. "You're very, very welcome," She smiled as they parted. "But, it's getting late. I'm going to go get some sleep. Make sure you do the same, okay?"
The teacher nodded.
The next morning, at breakfast, Miss Mills looked extraordinarily normal - to everyone else. Hermione, however, could see a glint in her eye that told her the Potions Master was progressing well with her altering of Hermione's potion, as well as that she'd gotten some sleep.
They didn't have classes together that day, but they continued to share glances, and met in the library after dinner.
"How are things?" Hermione asked quietly, not wanting to anger Madam Pince.
"Slow but steady," Violet nodded, taking hold of Hermione's hand (out of sight of other students or staff). "But that's what wins the race. Finding out where and when to add fluxweed is going to be an extensive process - it means making dozens of potions and adding it at different stages. I'm going to lose so much time, but it'll be worth it. The only other risk is that if something goes wrong, I could lose my perfectly formed eyebrows, and we wouldn't want that."
"Definitely not," Hermione chucked quietly. "They're one of your defining features."
"How many others do I have, then?"
"Oh, I don't know... ten billion?"
They both smiled at each other, feeling incredibly at ease in their company.
"I'd like for you to come over tonight, Hermione. So we can finish our date."
"I'd love to."
Violet nodded. "Then I'll see you at nine thirty - for now I have to collect ingredients from the forest," she smiled, looking around and then kissing Hermione's cheek so quickly the latter wasn't sure it had actually happened. Before she knew it, Miss Mills was strolling from the library.
She wrapped her coat tighter around her as she reached the tree line, and gave a wave to Hagrid, who was sitting on the steps of his cottage smoking his pipe with Fang by his side.
"Need a hand?" He asked, in his thick west country accent.
"I'm good, thanks!" She called back, giving a smile.
"Well, flare if you need me!"
She disappeared into the dark and cold forest, and removed her glamour, feeling free from the restraints of the school.
Her Dark Mark may not burn any more, but that didn't mean she was no longer a Death Eater. Once you were pledged, there was no way out. That meant she retained her Death Eater powers; her smoky black version of apparation. And when it came to that very specific type of apparation, it was one that could not push you through the wards that coated Hogwarts.
It was, however, one you could use freely in the grounds. Dumbledore had never expected genuinely evil death eaters to make their way inside the wards, so he never bothered to ward against such a thing inside - not to mention, Snape needed to be able to freely come and go when Voldemort called and dismissed him, without raising suspicions. His only way to do that, was to apparate.
He'd pummel in a plume of smoke towards the Weeping Willow, through it's passageway, and once he felt the familiar wards wash over him, he'd apparate fully away. To return, apparate into the Shrieking Shack and head back through the passage into the grounds.
Not that he told Voldemort any of that, oh no. That would be far too easy. Voldemort was under the impression all teachers could apparate in and out of Hogwarts as they wished.
And so it was that Bella found herself seeking that flying feeling, the free feeling, of being a cloud of smoke, able to move with the wind.
So she turned on the spot, began to practically fly through the trees, skilfully avoiding slamming into them - it still hurt, even as smoke. She twisted and turned around the trunks, then flew higher, allowing herself to breach the surface of the leaves and becoming herself again, balancing at the very top of a tree.
From there, she had a beautiful view of the castle. From there, she had a perfect view of Gryffindor tower. She could see a figure sitting in the window, and knew it was Hermione. Whenever she would collect ingredients, Hermione liked to keep watch for her safe return.
And then she felt a hand wrap tightly around her ankle.
Hermione knocked on Bella's chamber door at precisely half nine. she waited for a good ten minutes, wondering if her girlfriend was just in the bath, but when she still didnt get an answer after fifteen, she grew worried. She headed to the nearest forest-facing window. Hagrid was still sitting on the steps of his cottage, as he had been two hours ago.
He, too, felt a duty to any teachers who went into the forest alone; a duty to keep watch, to keep his ears open for trouble.
It was unusual for any teacher to be gone for such a long time, even if Miss Mills spend a while longer in there than most.
Hermione didn't want to just sit by and wait, she had to find out what had held Bellatrix up. She headed back to the dormitory, knowing Harry and Ron would still be sitting by the fire with sweets and homework, more focused on one than the other (three guesses which).
"Something's wrong, she's not back from the forest yet, and we had a meeting," she fretted to them, looking at Harry. "I need to borrow the cloak, I've got to go find her."
"Hermione," Harry shook his head. "That's dangerous - you can't go wandering into the forest alone, not at this time of night."
"Don't go all Professor Potter on me now, Harry - Hagrid's still up too, he's still sitting there, he knows something's wrong. I'd go in with him."
"Hermione-"
"Harry, please. I can't lose her now," She whispered to him.
He stared at her for a moment, not wanting to let one of his best friends toddle off into danger, but knowing that she would go with or without the cloak - only one option was safer. "Fine. I'll get it - go put some warmer clothes on," He warned, standing and making his way to the dorm.
A few minutes later, Hagrid heard footsteps approaching from the direction of the castle, though he couldn't see anyone.
"Harry?" He whispered, wondering if it was him, hiding under his cloak.
"Hagrid," came Hermione's voice. "It's me. I'm worried."
He nodded slowly, finishing off his tea and standing up. "Keep yer wand out," he told her, picking up his crossbow and loading it. Fang whined at his side. "C'mon, yeh dozy dog," he sighed, nodding towards the forest.
"Yeh can take thar'off once we're in the trees, ain't nothin gonna hurt ye with me at yer side," Hagrid promised.
Once they knew they'd be out the sights of the castle, Hermione pulled the cloak off and stuffed it into one of Hagrid's ridiculously large pockets. Then they began their search.
"I knew I'd see you again," Priscilla Ibsen grinned cruelly. Her teeth were brown and disgusting; Bellatrix was surprised they hadn't all dropped out yet. They were worse than her own gnashers in Azkaban. Her clothes had been ripped, torn, and bloodied. The blood was a sickly yellow - from Acromantula.
When she'd grabbed Bellatrix by the ankle, she'd given her the fright of her life, causing her to fall and become tangled in the branches. The few-thousand-odd year old witch had then manipulated the tree, binding Bellatrix tighter and more effectively, her back pressed painfully against the rough bark.
"With you dead," she continued, "No one can put me back. I may carry on as I once lived."