A/N It's here! I am so excited for this chapter.

Thank you all so much. You are wonderful.

A heads up: I have another story in the works! It is not past the development stage yet but I can say it will feature our lovely bookworm and favorite Death Eater. I will be splitting my time but I am far enough ahead that this story will continue to receive daily updates. Once my new story has a bit more direction I will begin the official writing process. I'll give more information (and mayhaps a sneak peak?) as I get closer to actually posting it.

This story is non-canon and all characters and rights belong to JK Rowling

Hermione held her tongue during DADA more often than not. Considering Umbridge's penchant for horrible detentions, she did not want to call attention to herself more than she did by being part of the Golden Trio. Instead, she was content to pretend to take notes on information she had known for years. It had been three days since she sent the book back and she had yet to receive a new one. She hoped she would have it before Saturday. Despite all the decrees Umbridge announced, Hogsmeade weekends were not yet forbidden, and everyone was excited for the first of the year. She did cancel Quidditch, much to Hermione's quiet pleasure.

"That toad of a woman is bloody awful. How are we supposed to defeat Voldemort if we can't even practice a Protego at school?" Harry complained once they were safely in the Common Room. It was uncommon for him to be so angry, but lately, his temper had been harder for him to reign in. He had problems with his scar aching and had been having weird dreams regarding some weird orb.

"Why don't you start a secret club? You've fought Voldemort before, even if no one believes you. You're a talented duelist Harry," Hermione absently responded, focused on Muggle Studies.

"That's a great idea but how do we get people to join and where do we practice?"

"Just call a meeting while in Hogsmeade. Use the Room of Requirement to practice."

"You're bloody brilliant, you know that?"

"As a matter of fact, I do Ron."

Ron mumbled something Hermione couldn't hear, and to be perfectly honest, she didn't much care. She couldn't fathom what possessed her to think she liked the boy in more than a friendly way just a year ago. The two boys were dunderheads, completely unable to solve their own problems. She wondered if giving away her secret training room had been a good idea.

A tapping on the window next to her pulled her away from her thoughts. At this time in the evening, it was rare to receive mail. Most often it waited until morning. Her heart leaped at the thought that it might be her next book and letter. She hurriedly opened the window, watching as Ammy perched on the table. A book was placed in front of her, bound in grey leather, again with no title. Untying the rolled parchment from the bird's leg, she couldn't help but smile as the bird flew away before shutting the window.

For the Brightest Witch of Her Age

My deepest apologies for not sending a reply earlier. I hope you understand that I have many things to oversee in these troubled times and that you will forgive me. There was also an urgent family matter to deal with, but all has been taken care of. The charm you placed on the letter was brilliant, one of your own, I assume. I had a fair amount of trouble getting past it, well done. It's no wonder everyone praises your intelligence. To answer your questions, what you felt when casting those spells is not entirely out of the ordinary. Some of the more talented witches and wizards have learned to sense magic, I believe some used to even see it, but that is quite rare nowadays. However, know that you are not alone in your feelings. I, too, have nearly been swept away by the stream of magic. It is difficult to maintain a sense of self. Darker magic is typically the most addictive, because of the feel of magic pumping through your veins. Even lesser witches and wizards feel it, though they do not feel it to that extent. Rest assured you have not yet lost yourself. When you have, you will no longer wonder, the world will simply be a haze of magic. As for not being the same person you were, that is highly likely. I daresay, however, that you are becoming who you were always meant to become. If you continue to feel a slight buzz around you try to focus on it, each person has their own distinct feel. See if you can identify people by their magic alone. As for the book, after much deliberation, my sister and I decided on one that we believe most suited your request. There are multiple types of books on wordless and wandless magic in our libraries. Should you wish for more, you need only ask. I found it incredibly thoughtful that you care for my safety without knowing my true identity. I am quite safe at the moment, but things are subject to rapid change in these times. Enjoy the new book, Hermione.

Sincerely,

Your Dearest Friend

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief having confirmation that she was not off her rocker yet. Her biggest fear was losing her sanity and, by proxy, her rational mind. She also noticed a few new clues as to who her pen-pal was. The witch had said she might tell her if she managed to guess right. Hermione felt that she was close to knowing her friend's identity, she just needed one more clue.

However, Hermione could only resist unknown knowledge for so long and found her hands opening the book before she thought otherwise. It did not take long to lose herself to something she could never learn about at Hogwarts or with the Order.

Wordless magic is significantly easier than wandless magic. A wand is a channel for magic to go through, allowing a witch or wizard to properly manipulate thought to magic. Magic without a wand can be extremely dangerous if not learned properly. It can severely damage the caster's body if they do not allow the magic to flow as it would if wielding a wand. Simultaneous wandless and wordless magic is incredibly rare, as it eliminates two important channels for magic. Any witch or wizard attempting such a thing should practice each individually. Both take long amounts of time to master, depending on skill level and magical ability, but this book will serve as a guide to the basics of both.

Breakfast in the Great Hall the next morning was chaos. Hermione arrived nearly last, as she had run and showered before joining everyone. Everyone was abuzz with excitement for the upcoming Hogsmeade trip. It wasn't until the Daily Prophet arrived that she even tuned into her fellow Gryffindors.

"Bloody hell," Ron murmured, staring at the front page, eyes as big as his plate.

At Hermione's inquisitive glance, Neville spoke up, "Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange were both killed by Aurors when they were on a raid for You-Know-Who. Well, the Prophet doesn't say that's what they were doing, but why else would they have been terrorizing muggle neighborhoods?"

"Wait, the Lestrange brothers?" Ginny butted in, nearly tearing the paper out of Neville's hands to read it. He didn't say anything about Ginny's lack of manners, merely sighed and went back to breakfast.

"Oh my gosh," she muttered to herself, conclusion settling into her mind. She hastily grabbed parchment and a quill before scrawling two words, keeping away from prying eyes.

Bellatrix Black

Hermione chose Black instead of Lestrange because she had the feeling Bellatrix never cared for Lestrange. She knew she couldn't know what the older witch was thinking, but it felt right. She hastily sealed the letter with another of her own charms, remembering the witch had mentioned it was troublesome to get past. She made sure this one was even stronger, not wanting the letter to get into the wrong hands. Shoving the parchment into her robes, she quickly focused in on the conversation.

"You alright, 'Mione? You look a bit pale," Harry asked gently.

"Fine. I just remembered I left my Potions textbook in the Tower. I'll meet you guys in class," she lied, abruptly leaving the hall and going instead to the Owlery. She was confident she had the right answer, but she wasn't entirely certain she wanted to know.

Hermione struggled to sit through the rest of the day's classes. She was on edge waiting for the response. She hoped all day that it would come at any moment, but it was nearly dinner and she still hadn't heard back. She could not stop the doubts from whispering in the back of her mind, despite how sure she was. She just wasn't positive she could handle the answer. A tapping on the window next to her snapped her back to the nearly empty Common Room and she opened the window. Her hands shook slightly as she untied the parchment.

Does that scare you?

It was all the answer Hermione needed. Her pen-pal was none other than Bellatrix Black, notorious Death Eater and the Dark Lord's Lieutenant. She had to think about how she felt about that. Did it scare her? She didn't think so. Even knowing who it was, she couldn't stop the rush of her magic at receiving the letter. She wasn't scared, she was thrilled. She had the opportunity to learn from one of the most skilled witches, why shouldn't she take it? Sure, Bellatrix Black was an insane pureblood fanatic, but was she really? She certainly seemed mostly sane, and she never insulted Hermione. Biting her lip, Hermione made a quick decision to respond.

For My Dearest Friend, the Most Faithful

You have given me no reason to be afraid. You have imparted knowledge on me that others would not. The Order would frown upon this knowledge if they knew I possessed it. I find that I cannot bring myself to care. Forbidden knowledge is more enticing than regular knowledge. I would very much like to continue learning from you if you would permit me. I will not reveal Order information, but I will not ask you to reveal the Dark Lord's secrets.

I have indeed felt a buzz of magic. It was unnerving at first, to feel something so strongly. I am able to recognize Harry and Ron and I'm getting better at discerning crowds. There is also a faint magical trace on the letters you write me. You might want to reduce that, I would hate for you to be caught should our letters be intercepted. It is distracting at times, to feel magic. It is difficult to block it out. Like in the Great Hall, there are so many people I feel like I walk into a wall whenever I enter. Is there anything I can do to alleviate this? I think I might go crazy with the intensity of it.

I'm sure you know people are saying you're insane, but in our letters, you seem sane. That is to say, are you truly what people think you to be? If you are insane, it's nice to know that you haven't lost your mental prowess. It gives me hope that, should I go insane, I won't lose my intelligence. I do have to wonder though, given your ideals, why are you exchanging letters with a muggleborn? You've never even referred to me as such. Why share your extensive knowledge with someone you believe is inferior?

Stay safe,

The Brightest Witch of Her Age

Sealing the letter, Hermione wondered when she grew comfortable with the idea that she was talking to Bellatrix Black. Ammy was still perched on the table, not having flown back to the Owlery. Smiling at how intelligent her owl was, Hermione tied the letter and sent her off, mind abuzz with thoughts. She couldn't help but worry what would happen if anyone found out she was exchanging letters with the most notorious Death Eater.

I just won't let anyone find out, she thought, determined to protect her friend's secret. She couldn't lose the only person that supplied her with any knowledge she requested without judgment. Hermione thought back to the conversation she had with her parents the last night she spent with them. The magic she was learning from Bellatrix wasn't good, but it wasn't inherently bad either. She was more forthcoming with knowledge than Dumbledore. He put the Trio in dangerous situations every year, intentional or not, and they barely scraped through. If she was going to survive this war, she needed to know everything she could, regardless of whether it was so-called dark magic.

"Hermione, are you gonna go to the Great Hall with us?" Ginny asked. She was standing by the door; Harry and Ron had gone ahead. Standing up, Hermione smiled at the youngest redhead. Ginny linked their arms before telling Hermione about boys and how oblivious they were while walking to the Great Hall. Hermione laughed at her friend's exasperation, not entirely listening, but paying enough attention to respond. Hogsmeade was two days away, and Hermione knew Harry would need her help convincing people to join them. He lost a lot of credibility after declaring Voldemort had returned. He was the talk of the newspapers, as well as Dumbledore, and a lot of people refused to believe Harry. She was less worried about giving up her practice room now that she had a wordless and wandless magic book. She still wanted to be discrete, but she wouldn't be flinging destructive spells around. At least, not yet.