"It's always good to be back at school," Harry said, stretching as he and Hermione walked along the shore of the lake. The dying sun cast a golden hue to the front lawn, chasing off the chill of evening.

Inside her head, Bellatrix's voice dripped with sarcasm, "Where everybody thinks he's cool."

She remained quiet. She could see how someone like Harry might miss Hogwarts during the holidays- but every September when she climbed the spiral staircase to her dormitories she felt as if a great chasm of loneliness opened up within her chest.

"It's not as if he has anything to miss," put in Bellatrix. She typically stayed silent during Hermione's interactions with Harry. Every once in a while she would insert some snide comment and then dissolve into silence when she felt Hermione's irritation.

This time it was true. Despite the many near-death experiences Harry had encountered while at school, it was still far homier than his relatives' place.

"Stop feeling sorry for him," Bellatrix snapped. "He probably brought it on himself, the git. Do you know what the Dark Lord had to endure because of this boy?"

Do you? countered Hermione.

She would never admit it, but sometimes she felt like she could understand Bellatrix's jealousy over her friendship with Harry. Mainly because she felt the same things whenever Bellatrix spoke about the Dark Lord. Her words bounced around in Hermione's skull.

The Dark Lord was a wonderful wizard, the most powerful ever, in fact. He could kill Dumbledore with one flick if he wanted. Was he fair? Certainly, he just knew that the universe had a proper hierarchy to it, and why wouldn't it? Every pack had an alpha, didn't it? Didn't he try to be a teacher at Hogwarts? Why, that showed his dedication to learning! And to children! Merlin, he loved children- he used to hold Hermione on his knee when she was just a baby-

She didn't realize she had been kicking rocks into the lake until she felt Harry's cool hand on her arm.

"Everything ok, Mione?" His green eyes were concerned, and he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his robes as he waited for her to answer.

Bellatrix said at once, "You shouldn't let him call you that. It's much too familiar."

Ignoring her, Hermione forced a smile, "Yeah, everything's great." She just wished she were home with her family.

He plucked a stone from the grass and tossed it as far as he could over the water. "It's a shame about Quidditch." The stone fell with a heavy plunk!

"I would have thought you'd be happy, Harry." A new voice flowed over them, and Hermione grinned as her brother loped towards them. His House tie hung loose around his neck, and it bobbed absurdly along to his stride.

Harry grinned, "Well, I suppose it's a good thing that we won't need to see your sad faces when Gryffindor won the Quidditch cup."

Shrugging, a slow smile spread across Draco's face. "Wish we were old enough to compete," he said.

She knew immediately what they were talking about, and rolled her eyes. "As if either one of you needs more gold," she groused.

They turned to look at her with shocked expressions.

"It's not about the gold Hermione," sputtered Harry. His cheeks darkened.

Draco nodded, pulling an apple from the pocket of his robes, "It's about the glory!" He tossed the apple at Harry, who snatched it from the air and tossed it back, "The thrill!"

"The excitement!"

"Isn't that the same as thrill?" She scoffed. They ignored her.

The boys kept tossing the apple back and forth, laughing at they twisted and dived. She wondered if they realized how idiotic they looked.

"Come on, Doveling, there are more important things to do."

"I'm going to the Library," she told the boys, who promptly groaned that lessons had barely started and flatly refused to accompany her.

It was better that way. They wouldn't ask uncomfortable questions when they saw what she was reading.

She climbed the stairs to the library, feeling Bellatrix's growing excitement as she went. The corridor, as she expected, was deserted. Madam Pince merely sniffed when she passed in front of the librarian's desk, and did not follow her as she ducked behind a large bookcase.

As soon as she reached the tall, musty shelves of the Restricted section she felt her muscles relax. This was her favorite place in the entire school. No one ever bothered her here, especially not the Weasley boy.

And, as an added perk, she had not needed to sneak into the section since she found Madam Pince and Argus Filch in a very compromising situation behind the Herbology section in her third year. Now she was free to browse to her heart's content.

Her fingers skimmed the edges of the old tomes, and a smile quirked the corners of her lips.

"Merlin's left sock, you should have been in Ravenclaw."

She pulled out a velvet-covered book. The title was in gold lettering, and read "The Art of Expert Transfiguration". She flipped through it, settling back against the shelves as she looked for the last passage she had read.

"There," Bellatrix said, "That's where we left off."

Hermione examined the drawing of a wizard who appeared to be in the throes of agony. His skin was peeling, his eyes scrunched in pain. It was captioned, "The unsuccessful Animagus."

Hermione's eyes trailed to the text on the following page. She read:

Not all wizards are capable of becoming an Animagus. While all have the potential, those who cannot truly commit to changing shape will find themselves in unbearable pain as their body rejects the change. It is for this reason that the Ministry decided to regulate the training of new Animagus' in 1653, after three young witches were found dead, their skin blistered and flayed from the ordeal.

Gruesome, remarked Hermione.

Bellatrix shushed her. "Keep reading."

The incantation is simple enough once the potential Animagus has mastered the wandwork. -The following page had a diagram that charted the complicated wand pattern- Once the initial wandwork has been successfully completed the individual will be able to utilize wandless magic to transform from then on-

"Fuck!"

The word was said so violently that it startled Hermione into dropping the book. It fell with a heavy thud! on the floor, and Hermione bent to pick it up. What was that for?

"I haven't got a wand here." Bellatrix's irritation prickled in Hermione's throat.

We knew when we started out that it might be impossible. Well, Hermione had known, but Bellatrix had refused to listen to reason. Ever since she had found out that Sirius had escaped from Azkaban in his Animagus form, Bellatrix had been obsessed. All summer she had begged Hermione to research, and the brunette had scoured every book in the Malfoy library. While she was able to find plenty of information about Animagus' and their exploits, she had not been able to find anything telling her how to actually transform until now.

Small dust motes floated in the candlelight, and Hermione worried her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched them drift. Bellatrix was apparently having an internal struggle, as numerous emotions stabbed through Hermione- primarily disappointment and tension.

Finally, the older witch gritted out, "I… think… that you should perform the spell anyway."

Immediately Hermione protested, I never wanted to do it in the first place!

"If you do it I will learn how to do it myself. That way if some halfwit comes too near with a wand I can escape right away!"

She had never been so happy to be gifted in Occlumency. Truth was, Hermione was never quite sure if she wanted Bellatrix to escape or not. She had never looked into the court records, but she was certain that her friend deserved to be in prison. On the other hand she did care about the older witch, and she did desperately want to meet her in real life. Sometimes she felt as if she would do anything to free Bellatrix, and then she felt the familiar rage- the rage that was not her own- and something told her that things were better as they were.

Not to mention that this way she had Bellatrix all to herself.

"And," continued Bellatrix, her voice pleading, "Think how such a skill will help the Dark Lord, he'll be so pleased that you've made an effort to be useful."

She was almost certain that she wanted nothing to do with the Dark Lord as well. He sounded like a horrible maniac who was unworthy of Bellatrix's devotion. Every day she hoped desperately that he would not rise again.

Another reason to keep Bellatrix to herself. This way she didn't have to worry about The Dark Bore soaking up all of Bella's attention.

I'll think about it, she sighed, tracing patterns on the floor with her foot. The velvet covered book was soft in her hands, and she stroked it absentmindedly.

Bellatrix huffed. "Don't think too long, we haven't got much time-"

The witch cut herself off as a loud Pop! filled Hermione's ears. She gaped as a small form materialized in front of her.

"Miss Hermione! Dobby has been looking all over for you!"

"Dobby?" A slow grin crossed her face as she blinked at the small elf. He was dressed in an over-large blue shirt with green shorts and orange suspenders. One sock was pulled up over his knee, the other pooled around his ankle. She suspected that the "hat" tilting perilously atop his head was once a tea cozy, and she resolved to buy him a proper hat when she could.

"Miss Hermione needs to come with Dobby now!" insisted the elf, reaching out his hand.

Ignoring Bellatrix's offended snort, Hermione took the proffered hand, and let out a squeak of surprise as they disappeared.

A half second later they reappeared with a Crack! in what appeared to be the Hogwarts Kitchens. Hundreds of elves scuttled around, peering at them curiously as they performed various tasks.

"Winky, I've brought Miss Hermione!"

Dobby pulled her over to where a thin, female elf lay slumped over a large stainless steel bowl. Several empty bottles of Butterbeer lay on the table around her. As she stepped closer, Hermione had to fight the urge to hold her sleeve over her nose. The smell emanating from the elf was foul, and her eyes watered as she struggled to stay still.

"This is the kind mistress I told you about, Winky. The one who set Dobby free when he was working for the Malfoys."

Two fat tears squeezed out of Winky's eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She said nothing.

Wringing his hands fretfully, Dobby squeaked, "She'll be the best mistress to Winky too, Dobby knows it-"

"Wha-?" Hermione suddenly realized what was happening, "I never agreed to that!"

But her words were drowned out by a shrill cry. Winky twisted around so quickly that Hermione flinched back. Several nearby elves tutted, but went back to their work without further comment.

"Miss would really take on Winky, even after she's been sacked?" She looked up at Hermione with wide, dilated eyes. Her skin was dry, and Hermione felt a stab of pity for the creature.

"Don't you like your freedom?"

Something akin to defiance flared in Winky's eyes, "Winky is a proper elf miss! Not like Dobby, who has turned his back on the proper order of things. Winky loved serving her family!" she let out a sob, but did not begin crying again, "And Winky hates this-" she gestured around at the empty bottles and the bowl- which Hermione had just noticed was not empty, and was in fact contributing to the horrendous smell.

"Some elves is not as, er, progressive as Dobby is. But maybe with time Miss Hermione can convince Winky that freedom is not so terrible." His eyes filled with pity as he stared at his friend.

"Please, Miss! Winky is needing to be a proper house elf again. Winky can't belong to no one!" Her eyes glistened as they stared into Hermione's.

Bellatrix's voice was mocking, "Poor little elf, doesn't even know when she's not wanted. I'll enjoy watching her cry when you say 'no'."

"Yes."

The word surprised Hermione just as much as it did Bellatrix and the little elf. Dobby, on the other hand, beamed proudly up at her.

"I thought you were against the slavery of the House Elves!"

I am, she sighed, But Winky is clearly in need of… direction. Papa says that change must be made slowly, starting at the top. Maybe if I model how elves should be treated-

She broke off as Bellatrix burst into laugher.

Squaring her shoulders, Hermione steeled herself against the internal mockery, and plastered what she hoped was a comforting smile on her face.

"Winky, was it?"

The elf had burst into a fresh wave of tears. She slid off of her bench and collapsed in a heap at Hermione's feet. With shaking hands, she pulled the hem of Hermione's robes to her face, and kissed them.

"Mistress has accepted Winky! Mistress is truly the best, most benevolent of witches!"

Hermione stepped back, pulling her robes out of Winky's grasp. She resolved to change immediately as soon as she returned to her common room.

"Why don't you, er- clean up?" She suggested, hoping her tone was mild. Her nose was still very much offended by the unwashed creature, "It, wouldn't do to have… anyone else think that I let my elves go about unkempt."

As soon as she said it a jolt pulsed through her body. She had heard her mother utter nearly the same words about her children more times than she could count.

The elf seemed to feel something from those words as well, as she stared up at Hermione with growing horror.

"Winky will straighten up Mistress, right away!" Without another word, the elf disappeared. Thankfully, she took the smell with her.

Having a personal elf turned out to be better than Hermione thought. Winky (who now walked around in a neatly pressed pillowcase bearing the Malfoy Crest- "With a Silver lioness, Mistress- so everyone knows Winky belongs to Miss Hermione!") was extremely conscious of Hermione's needs. Every morning Hermione was roused gently from slumber and presented with a cup of strong tea. Her homework was always put away, bag neatly packed so that Hermione did not need to worry about making sure she had the correct books. She walked Turnip, and cleaned up after him so that Hermione had more time to study, and she somehow always sensed when the girl would want the wubble near.

Winky also apparently had the power to pop in and out of the Hogsmeade shops to gather sweets and butterbeer for Hermione and her friends. While she did not use this skill overly much, she did enjoy the fact that it seemed to garner her favor with the Weasley twins. Their old nickname "evil Malfoy" fell out of use, and she found herself relieved.

Of course, Ron flatly refused to eat anything Winky brought back (not that anyone invited him to).

"She's probably had it poisoned," he commented loudly one morning as he and the other fourth year Gryffindors climbed to Divination.

"I wish you had," remarked Bellatrix, her irritation prickling Hermione's neck. "That boy is the most useless creature I have ever encountered."

He's Harry's friend.

As usual, Hermione's mention of Harry made Bellatrix's irritation flare into something stronger. "All the more reason!" she snapped.

Because it was Divination next Bellatrix did not fall into her usual sullen silence. In most lessons she was bored. She would sarcastically answer any question directed at Hermione if she was particularly peeved, but otherwise she was uninvolved.

That wasn't the case for Divination. From the moment Trelawney first predicted Harry's death Bellatrix was committed. She spent hours giggling in Hermione's head, filling her mind with terrible scenarios- all of which predicted the boy's death. When Hermione began playing along Bellatrix only grew more interested.

They took a seat at their usual table. Harry, and Neville on either side of Hermione, and Ron scowling across the table at her.

"I hope you have all been practising the relaxation exercises I taught you," came the airy, mystical voice of Professor Trelawney. She stepped from behind a screen, and drifted in their direction. "The goal is to open your mind's eye to the truths beyond the mundane."

"I wonder what's in this incense," there was an insinuating smirk in Bellatrix's words.

The rings on Professor Trelawney's glinted in the candlelight. "Perhaps one of you would like to share your dream predictions?"

Bellatrix's eager voice cut through Hermione's mind, "Raise your hand, Dove!"

It turned out that Hermione did not need to take any further action. Professor Trelawney glanced at Hermione from the corner of her eye, and pounced on the neat stack of parchment in front of her.

"Shall we start with Miss Malfoy's? It's always a good omen to begin with someone who has a touch of the sight."

This is ridiculous, thought Hermione impatiently. I don't know why I let you talk me into these things.

"Because you know how few pleasures I have in this life, Doveling."

"Monday, gulls flying over the castle. Parvati's hair will be unusually unmanageable."

Parvati gave a little squeal and ran her hands over her hair as the room erupted into laughter.

Trelawney continued, "Tuesday, the Greenhouses in a rainstorm. Neville will fall down."

"Probably right," mumbled Neville, giving her a good-natured grin.

I hate this, sighed Hermione internally. Outwardly, her face was stoic and unchanged. It feels so mean.

"They love it." Bellatrix, as always, was enjoying herself. She laughed particularly loud as Trelawney read that on Wednesday Hermione dreamt that the giant squid learned how to play the guitar- obviously that meant that Seamus would lose hearing in one ear. "And I think you love it too."

I do not.

"Do too. Shhh, this is my favorite one."

"Wednesday," Trelawney sighed, "seven apples in a row- the sixth one rots at an accelerated speed. An ill omen for the sixth Weaseley child." She turned her eyes to Hermione, "I think, my dear, that you are absolutely correct. Young Mr. Weasley should be very careful in the future." She turned her pitying gaze on Ron, "Or perhaps, it should be the rest of us who are careful."

Parvati gave Ron a particularly nasty look as the rest of the class disguised their laughter by coughing. Ron's face turned beet red.

"Serves him right."

As if he needed another reason to hate me.

"Would you rather have put down your real dreams? You and a certain Beauxbatons Veela-"

Bella! Shut up!

"I think it's rather sweet. I was beginning to worry that you were never going to have your first se-"

Shut up!

Bellatrix laughed crudely, and Hermione felt her cheeks burn.

"You know, you could always ask her to the Yule Ball! I'm sure Narcissa would be really happy to hear that her daughter prefers the fairer sex."

Bellatrix! Shut up or I'll-

"Miss Malfoy?"

Hermione's head jerked up as a new voice entered the tower. A Ravenclaw Prefect stood on the ladder beneath the trapdoor. "The Headmaster wants to see you."

"Now?" Professor Trelawney looked disappointed, but she took the note and read it quickly. "Yes now. Well, I'm sure that your inner eye is far more attuned to the truths of the universe than the rest of your peers. You are excused."

Hermione could not help feeling relieved as she climbed down the ladder after the Prefect.

Throughout her years at Hogwarts she had maintained her visits with "Uncle" Dumbledore. They were less frequent than they had been when she had been a child. Her Occlumency was nearly perfect, so there was no pressing reason for them to meet more than once or twice a month.

And though she was always excited to see him, she could not help but feel nervous as she gave the password ("Acid Pops") to the Griffin, and climbed the spiral staircase. He did not know about Bella, could not know, but whenever his piercing blue eyes met hers she felt instinctively that he was trying to see if she was the only person inside her head.

Between his gaze and Bellatrix's boiling resentment, Hermione found these meetings to be somewhat… stressful.

Nevertheless, she could not help but feel a rush of affection as she entered his office and took a seat on her favorite overstuffed chair. A selection of Honeydukes sweets littered the table, and he conjured a tea set immediately for them.

The first half of their conversations always went the same.

"How are your lessons?"

"Do you really need to ask?" She took a drink of her tea, and watched a chocolate frog spring to freedom beneath his desk.

He chuckled, "No, I suppose not. I thought of you the other day as I was reading the newest installment of the Young Morgana books-"

"You're still reading those?!"

"Aren't you?"

She shook her head, hiding her smile with another drink. "I think I might be too old at this point, Uncle Albus. I'm fifteen."

"My grandmother used to say that those who feel old betray their youth." He smacked his hand down on another chocolate frog.

"I didn't say I felt old," she said. "You really shouldn't open those until you plan to eat them."

"Where's the fun in that?"

He smiled at her, and for a moment she felt as if she were seven again, and he was telling her that the strict etiquette her mother believed in would never be enforced in his office.

Then, as always, the talk became more serious.

"I haven't heard from your mother in a while."

She did not need Bellatrix's warning hiss to know that they had entered dangerous territory. Her mother's feelings had inexplicably soured towards Dumbledore at some point in the past few years. With an impressively calm tone she said, "Oh? Neither have I, come to think of it." Lies. "Maybe it's her gardening club. She gets a little obsessed sometimes." More lies. She took a bite of lemon scone, and closed her eyes in pretend bliss. "This is delicious!"

"I'm glad you like them. I personally find them to be a little too tart for my tastes." His tone was light, but his eyes were grave. She decided to take the Hippogriff by the beak.

"Something's happening, isn't it?"

He looked startled for a moment, then his expression melted into fondness. "Always perceptive, Hermione. Yes, something is happening." Folding his hands over his lap, he fixed her with an expectant look.

"Does it involve my parents?" She picked up a small silver spoon and swirled it needlessly through her tea.

"It involves all of us."

Tea sloshed over the edge of her cup, splattering across a pile of blood pops. "It's about him, isn't it?"

He gazed at her for a long moment. "Yes."

The only sound in the room was the soft whirring of the silver instruments. She put the spoon down.

"Hermione, the time is going to come when I will ask you to do something for me. Something that is very important. No, I won't tell you what it is now," he spoke quickly when she opened her mouth. "But I want you to think, think very carefully, about what is most important to you."

She could feel Bellatrix's resentment flare into hate, and it burned the back of her throat horribly.

"Ok," she rasped. Her mouth felt dry in spite of the tea.

He picked up a chocolate frog and examined it. "How is your Occlumency these days?"

She stared at him, "As good as ever."

"You're still practicing daily?" She nodded, and he seemed to relax.

"Good… Good." He bit into the chocolate frog, and for the first time she noticed the way the frog stiffened and fell limp as soon as a bite had been taken out of it.

He turned the conversation back to school, but she found that she had lost her appetite.

A/N: Thank you for reading! And thank you for your wonderful reviews, you guys are the best! Please keep letting me know what you think, nothing fuels my creativity better.

Also, I know Hermione's reaction to Winky was OOC. Please remember that this isn't the same Hermione who grew up in the Muggle World. This Hermione grew up in a society that tolerates Elf-slavery. Her reaction isn't perfect, but she is only 15, and she has Bellatrix in her head. I struggled with writing it this way, but I need Winky to be completely loyal to Hermione.

Also, I don't own Harry potter. Nor do I own "A Very Potter Musical".

I hope you enjoyed!