Bellatrix
The grand staircase of Black Manor would rival Hogwarts' in sheer size. It was an event in itself just to get from floor to floor which would describe the Black family well.
Ignoring the noisy huffing coming from behind me as best I could I didn't so much as glance back to make sure the girl was keeping up. I could hear that she was. One would think that being on the run for over a year during a war would make one's stamina a bit better. The more I thought about it the more I thought it was pure luck that gave them the upper hand in the end.
"Are so many stairs absolutely necessary?" I heard asked between gasps for air.
I stopped and turned, we were only halfway up but the pause was clearly appreciated by the resulting exaggerated sigh. "What is your definition of grand staircase?" I asked mostly serious.
A disrespectful roll of the eyes, "Of course, but this couldn't possibly be safe. What if someone fell? Or there was an emergency?"
"I should imagine a fall down any staircase would result in a gruesome injury, but specifically in the case of these stairs…don't fall. Simple." Before the no doubt indignant response could be formed I continued up the stairs. "Pick up the pace Muddy or I'll have died of old age and you from exertion before we reach the top."
Finally, on the top landing I leaned over the banister as I waited for the girl to reach the top as well. A few moments later the heavy breathing of the girl joined me at the banister. I didn't so much as glance in her direction.
"I never had to climb the staircase at Hogwarts all the way to the top. At least not often. I can't imagine anyone going up and down these multiple times a day. Especially children! How did you play without causing harm?" She was practically hanging over the edge trying to see everything she could from such a height.
"Play? In the ancestral home of the House of Black? You seem to be forgetting that we had very dissimilar childhoods. All play was restricted to designated areas and activities. None of which involved the stairs." I replied.
"Of course, I imagine your childhood was like a twenty-four-seven cotillion lesson."
"Not far off except seeing as there were three women who were to inherit the Black fortune and legacy we also learned how to make a proper home and how to be good subservient wives to our future husbands in order to carry the bloodline. Very proper, fun upbringing indeed." My grip on the banister tightened just the slightest at the memories.
She was silent for a moment coming back from the banister. "Sounds more like you were groomed show cattle rather than children."
I didn't respond, choosing instead to continue down the main corridor. We walked in silence for several minutes as we went further and further down the dark halls until finally she spoke up again. "Why are all the pictures taken down? Only landscapes are still up." She ran her hands along the walls where there were clear stains where portraits used to hang.
"Hm, Narcissa thought it best to have them removed. She didn't want them constantly yelling…unsavory things while you and Potter were guests. I can't say that I miss them. Far too many relatives, far too many opinions." I didn't look at the unnaturally clean spaces overwhelming the walls. Making the corridors like less homely and far longer and larger than they had even as a young child. It wouldn't do to show how uncomfortable it made me to be reminded of the past.
"I assume there were several generations of hate to remove."
"Cease this line of inquiry, Mudblood. If not for the simple fact that I will not answer your incessant questions as they spill from your lips unbidden, then for self-preservation. You're quickly becoming a nuisance and I assume that I don't need to inform you of what happens to things that annoy me?" I didn't turn to see if the threat made an impact, the lack of a response was answer enough.
"Here. Do what you will with your things it's not as if a house elf will come and tidy up behind you, so the choice is purely up to you." I dropped her smaller things unceremoniously on the writing desk and made to leave only to be stopped at the door.
"Thank you."
I hovered for just a moment, it was inconsequential. "Didn't do it for you, brat."
I avoided Potter and Granger like the plague after that, not seeing much of anyone for a blissful two weeks. Even my meals were taken straight to my room or wherever else I found solitude which wasn't hard to find here. Especially without those damned judgmental paintings hanging about everywhere. If a part of the self was lost when a person was translated to portraiture, then whomever translated the Black family was a master of the form. The things they spouted, and the glares of disdain still pierced me to the soul just the same as the ones I received from the witch or wizard themselves when they were alive. It was unsavory. I wanted to be anywhere but here and yet I could not leave. It was a cruel irony actually. An age-old nightmare that haunted my dreams was now a reality. I was stuck in this house without any escape.
Cruel irony, indeed.
"Bella, I wish to speak with you." It was Narcissa, of course. Only she seemed to know where to look for me in this enormous house.
"Is it a lot of trial and error involved in finding me or do you usually make the right assumption the first time?" I asked, not moving away from the perch on the window I was sitting at in one of the older libraries.
"Come now, Bella, you've had the same hiding spots since we were children it's just a matter of elimination." She closed the door as she stepped into the room, wrapping her robes more securely around herself. I sat more straight out of reflex. She only did that when she was uncomfortable or agitated.
"What is it?"
She didn't respond right away choosing instead to inspect the chairs for the cleanest, then using her wand to scrub it further before sitting. She folded her hands in her lap and looked the picture of dignity and ease.
"Andromeda wrote me this morning."
My chest constricted. How could I forget that just because the bloody war was over that didn't mean life would just be easy and hiding away. I couldn't avoid these type of consequences, I had nowhere to go. Even if I did I had no way to leave.
I hated this house. It was just the as any other prison, only here my demons could touch me. Confront me. Condemn me.
"And?"
"She wants to visit. Wants to talk."
I snorted, "Talk? Are you sure that's all she wants? I'm sure she thinks I killed her daughter. Or helped or didn't prevent it or what have you. What would she possibly want to talk about?"
"You know some of us talk to heal and understand. Not just insult and curse. Do you think she wishes to hear what came of her daughter from your own mouth instead of anyone else's? Or perhaps that she just misses her family? It's been decades, Bella. Decades without so much as a letter at Christmas and she just lost her daughter and son in law in just a night. She has to take care of their child now. A reminder of what she has lost due to this war and useless feuds. She lost the daughter that she made with love. A love so strong she followed her heart to pursuit it which cost her her family!"
"I know bloody well what happened!" I yelled, not quite caring for the reminder or guilt trip.
"Then you should know that she needs us now! She shouldn't go through this alone when there's no reason she has to anymore and I miss our sister. Don't you?"
I was speechless. Of course, I missed her how could I not. But I wasn't foolish either. There was a sea of bad blood between us that couldn't be washed away with just won war and a conversation. I wanted to do the right thing and start life anew, but I'm not sure I'm ready just yet. Not for the accusations of which I'm sure there are many. Nor for any misplaced pity of which I expected none, but this was Andy we were speaking of.
"It's too soon. I don't think I'll be ready to handle whatever she says."
"Nor do I. I didn't mean right this moment, of course. Just that she would be here sometime soon and I'd rather you not be hiding away when it does. Nor do I wish for you to feel ambushed as I know that only spells misfortune. I just wanted you to know that it will happen, and you will be there."
It was alarming how alike she was to our mother.
"I don't suppose I have a choice much like everything else. Although, I will be finding new hiding places."
She stood and straightened her robes, "As if there were anywhere you could go where I couldn't find you." She started for the door and stopped just before she opened it, "Oh, and should you find yourself wanting any meals, if you refuse to eat them with the rest of us you should find your portions quite lacking."
"Threatening me with starvation to get your way? You really are my sister, aren't you?"
I was sulking to the dining hall when I ran into the last person I wanted to see.
"It's nice to see you, finally. Where have you been?" The mudblood asked as she blocked my path.
I sighed, truly exasperated already, "Must we make small talk every time we pass?"
Her brows furrowed in confusion, "I don't think we've made much small talk actually. You've not been around to do so."
"Do you think that could be for a reason?" I asked, trying and failing to move around her again. My patience was thinning.
"I don't get how you can be amiable one day and a complete ass the next." She looked affronted.
"They call me a madwoman for a reason. Little I do is sensible." I said as I picked the girl up, really, she weighed nothing, and placed her to the side. "Now, if you'll excuse me I've been threatened with starvation if I don't actually attend these meals. Much to my displeasure, of course."
"I've seen you be decent. I think you just choose to be irritating as you see fit. And you hide behind the title of 'Madwoman' so you don't have to actually try to be decent or have consequences for your actions." She was following me now. Wonderful.
"Look where that's got me. Absolutely paying for my consequences." I replied dryly.
"You're sane enough."
"But that's not enough for you, is it? You would have me be more like my sisters? Well, I'm sorry to disappoint as I have many others before you, I am not like them." I turned on her quickly, forcing her to halt. "I'm no prim and proper lady that cooks meals for her family, has a brood of children, and holds her tongue. I'm very straightforward, in fact. What you see, mudblood, is what you get. Take it or leave it. If you can't get that through that thick, bushy mane of yours then leave me the hell alone."
She had the audacity to snort, "You're one to talk, aren't you? Bushy mane and all."
Anger and pure indignation boiled inside me. How dare she even assume that she understood me. Yes, when I was toying with her head I was a bit more pleasant than expected, but that hardly amounted to actually knowing a person. I went to tell her as much when Narcissa poked her self-righteous head out into the hall.
She raised an expectant eyebrow. "I take it you two will not be joining us then?"
I huffed and without even a parting glare at the mudblood I entered the dining hall.
I don't see why I needed to attend dinners if they were always this painful. Surely, Narcissa aimed to torture me for having avoided this and left her to deal with it alone. The conversation was stilted and awkward. Mostly started by Narcissa herself in a vain attempt to break any silence. It was awkward as clearly no one wanted to participate until finally, they gave to the guilt of Narcissa trying so hard.
That was all fine and well, until they tried incessantly to involve me in it.
"Dinners are for eating, not making awkward talk." I replied, not looking up from my plate. "I don't much care for what you all do, but kindly leave me out of it."
"Who pissed in your butter beer?" Draco grumbled, as if he weren't in an equally sour mood.
"Watch it, you moody little git." The look of righteous indignation was so similar to that of his father that I had to swallow down the bile that came up my throat on instinct.
"Or what? You'll kill me? Torture me? In case you forgot you can't do anything so where does that leave your bloody threats?" He growled through his teeth.
"You've grown some bollocks haven't you nephew? Shame they couldn't have dropped just a tad earlier. Mind you, I'm positively overjoyed with the outcome of the war but," I shrugged, smiling smugly, "At least we know that your threats are just as empty, now don't we?"
The intensity of the shade of red that covered his face was comical and I would have said as much if it hadn't been for my dearest baby sister. "Are you two quite finished? When I asked-."
"Forced." I cut in.
"You to come to dinner I didn't mean for you to antagonize my son for your pleasure the entire time."
"And what of him antagonizing me? Does your precious baby Draco not get a reprimand for his behavior as well?" I asked, growing increasingly tired of Narcissa's handling of Draco. Yes, he wasn't ready for a war, but neither were Potter, or the girl, or the weasels. No child was, but unlike Draco, they didn't have a mother to coddle them. Well, the weasels will always have someone in their overgrown brood.
"He is a boy barely of age dealing with several things he was not prepared for. You, on the other hand, know full well what you mean and what you're doing. Act your age."
"I suppose I should take up knitting then? Is that appropriate for someone of my age little Cissy? And what of the other barely of age children here? One of whom marched to his own death and then came back from the bloody dead? They seem to be dealing with it a lot better than your pissy little-"
"Enough!" Narcissa was enraged, the lines of her face tight. I met her glare with every ounce of heat as she gave. The silence stretched on with a wounded Draco staring down miserably at his plate, not actually eating a thing.
Finally, after staring between the two of us, the Golden Boy finally spoke up, "He wouldn't let you do it you know. Snape. He and Dumbledore…they had a kind of, well, Dumbledore told Snape that he had to be the one to kill him, so that Voldemort wouldn't get true possession of the Elder Wand. So, even if you wanted to, Snape wouldn't let you do it. Or Dumbledore for that matter. I was there, on the lower level. I didn't know any of this at the time, but I get it now. He was biding his time until Snape got there. When he finally did, I thought Dumbledore was begging for his life, but he was pleading with Snape to kill him. Snape didn't want to do it either. His hand was forced, just the same as you."
The silence that followed was different. It wasn't filled with the burning intensity that Narcissa and I had, this silence hollow. I'd never known just how much the old bad trusted Snape, but hearing his dedication, or blind devotion rather, caused an uncomfortable feeling of familiarity.
"Thank you, Potter, for that overshare. Read the room, some things are more depressing than their worth." I said, but it fell flat even on my ears.
He looked down at his plate determinedly. "Right."
I looked over at the girl who had been surprisingly silent throughout. "Well, you have anything you'd like to add, Muddy?"
She looked around surprised. As though she thought that it was entirely implausible for her to be spoken to despite being present. "Oh! Well, no actually. I've had quite enough of your um, disposition for one day. I'd much rather like to avoid any other unsavory confrontation if that's alright."
I raised a surprised brow and snorted, "Well, it seems at least one of you can learn. Now, if I'm being forced to attend these meals let's make them less painful for everyone shall we? I don't give a rat's ass what you talk about as long as you leave me out of it, clear?"
No one answered so I took that as a yes.
I stood from the table abruptly, eager to be anywhere else, "Well, this has been a lovely dinner Cissy. Can't wait for Breakfast!" I left them to finish out their awkward dinner without me.
Hermione
The next morning after a thankfully uneventful breakfast where everyone was trying incredibly hard not to seem like they were affected at all by dinner, Narcissa and I were cleaning out one of the drawing rooms while Harry and Draco restored a library. The work went by in an almost comfortable silence until Narcissa insisted on a break.
We sat at one of the newly restored tables while she prepared tea. I watched in slight awe at the meticulous way she maneuvered her wand. Years of habit making it to so that she barely had to concentrate at all on the task. I was so caught in watching her every move I didn't see her watching me.
"I wanted to speak with you about what Bellatrix said yesterday." She spoke calmly, but her sudden speech shocked me just the same.
"At dinner? Really, I don't mind, I'm oddly getting used to the things she says, although I'm sure before I can really get used to it she'll change again." I replied, felling oddly exposed for a reason I couldn't explain.
"I was speaking of before dinner, in the hall." She poured two cups of tea.
"Oh."
"It is good that you don't hold too strongly to the things she says. While I will admit that she means every word of it to some degree, it is this house that brings out the worst of her. She was never happy here, none of us were, but it was especially hard for Bella. There was much expected of her, much of which she would never be able to deliver. Now she is prisoner in the very place that first turned her to the Dark Lord. There is a great deal she must get through on her own and she'd much rather no one knew how much of a struggle it was. All this to say, there is a lot you don't understand, and she will do whatever to keep you at arms-length." She took a sip of her perfectly prepared tea and raised an expectant brow at me while glancing at the other.
"Oh, thank you for the tea and the warning I guess." I set to preparing my own cup with far less grace than she had. "I guess I knew that already on some level. But sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my mind. When I have questions it's hard to restrain them for too long."
She stared at me with a look in her eyes that wasn't meant for me to read. I guess it was a good thing that she looked at least amused.
"Enough about my sister. I find that we know little about each other. Now is as good a time as any to rectify that wouldn't you agree? Tell me about yourself Ms. Granger." She spoke almost with an air of interest oddly enough.
"I'm afraid there isn't anything about me that someone who comes from your rich family history would find interesting." I supplied.
"I have a hard time believing that. I know little of the Muggle world, I'm sure there are many things I would find interesting. Start small, what of your parents? What did they do for a living?" She asked. I saw nothing in her face that would suggest that she meant any malice or even knew of my parent's fate. Still, my heart clenched with the very same sadness as before.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, not knowing if I should start with their fates or avoid the topic all together. I chose a less painful path. "My parents were dentist. It's a Muggle profession where they fix people's teeth. It's actually how they met. They made a decent living from it."
"You keep speaking in the past tense. Did something happen?" She asked the dreaded question.
I hesitated, placing my tea back on its saucer, "Before we started hunting Horcruxes, I was worried about their well-being. I knew I was a target and anyone close to me was in danger. So, I thought the best way to keep them away from harm would be to make it so they had no connection to me at all." The more I spoke the larger the lump in my throat grew. Unshed tears burned the edges of my vision and it occurred to me that I never mourned them. Never let myself properly feel for their loss. I missed them, more than anything or anyone.
"I see." She spoke softly, as if she couldn't believe what she heard. "I think that's enough cleaning for one day, don't you? We can continue tomorrow. Go, and don't hide from your feelings." With that she cleared the tea and left. Presumably to start preparing dinner since they always seemed to be meals larger than one woman could do alone without several hours to prepare beforehand.
In some ways she reminded me of my mother. Always polite and graceful and the natural makings of a mother. The way she cared for and protected Draco may annoy Bellatrix, but it reminded me of many nights in my mother's arms as I told her of all the things the other children would say about me and the comforting sound of her heartbeat as I cried. If only she were here now. I have so much to tell her. Things she would never believe I endured. My father would laugh and say I had a gift for story telling as he always did when I told them of what went on while I was away. I think that was the only way he could reconcile himself with letting me return every year. The stories always got worse and worse. They had to be works of fiction from my imagination. They couldn't be real, not at Hogwarts. But deep down they knew. They always knew.
"You'll need to leave." Came the abrupt demand from Bellatrix, having swiftly entered the room in all her glory.
"What?" I asked in surprise. Surely, she knew I couldn't leave.
"I wish to brood here, you'll need to cry elsewhere." Was the prompt response.
Of course. Out of all the rooms in this enormous estate she wanted one of the occupied ones. Having no desire and even less energy to argue with her I silently stood and prepared to leave, wiping my tears away on the sleeve of my jumper.
"Why were you crying." She stood directly in front of the door, blocking my path.
"Excuse me?"
She rolled her eyes, "Clear the mud from your ears so I won't have to repeat myself. Why were you crying?"
"I'd much rather not talk about it with you." I tried to shoulder pass her only to find that she was solid as a statue.
"Am I not a good enough listener for you, then? Not empathetic enough? Poor Muddy and her sad, sad life." She mocked, only serving to aggravate me.
"I'm not obligated to share anything with you. You have your personal issues, I have mine and I would much rather not be ridiculed for them." I met her gaze, refusing to be backed down.
"Oh, so this is your petty revenge for me not being nice and fair with you yesterday? I withhold what you want to know so you do the same? Well, that only works if I actually want to know what you have to say." She was as petulant as a child and her reasoning baffled me.
"What? I…no this isn't about that. This is…Gods why must you be so infuriating! If you care so little for what I have to say, then kindly let me leave so you can do your brooding. You must have mastered the skill by now." My chest heaved as anger burned in my veins like fire. "How dare you. You demand that we all bend to your will all the while still seeing us as lesser than. You can't hide behind Voldemort and torture anymore. Either accept that this is the life you asked for or be miserable for the rest of your life. In which case you should have just stayed in Azkaban!"
It happened so quickly I hardly believe it happened at all. All I know is that the sting brought a different kind of tear to my eyes. I didn't cover the stinging mark with my hand, it didn't shock me at all that she struck me. I knew it was bound to happen sooner rather than later, especially if we kept attacking each other in such a way. What did surprise me was how in stride I took it. After everything that happened in the past years, a slap to the face was nothing.
I met her animalistic gaze through my fallen hair. She stared at me almost with a hunger. As if she craved violence which shouldn't be a shock at all. She was right, I had no idea who she really was. It would seem that I was seeing and judging her through rose-tinted lenses this whole time, but they had been knocked off as soon as her hand connected with my cheek. How naïve could I be? To think that everything about her was different just because she wanted something different. Just because she didn't like serving Voldemort anymore didn't mean that she just didn't like torturing and violence anymore. As much as I tried to explain it away those things were a part of her, not just pushed on her by circumstance. The rare moments where she was civil were just that, rare. This is the woman who went out of her way to make it so it wouldn't hurt while she carved the nastiest scar into my flesh, marking me for life.
Stupid, naïve, Hermione.
"Move." To my surprise my voice didn't waver, and an even bigger surprise came when Bellatrix finally yielded after only a slight pause.
I left without a word seeking out the solitude of my room where I could cry and process without the looming and antagonistic figure of Bellatrix Black looming overhead. She really was nothing like her sisters.