The first thing she was aware of was the uncomfortable warmth. Her side, where the curse had hit, was throbbing painfully.
Cracking her eyes open, she took in the mountain of mismatched blankets that had been heaped on top of her.
"Are you awake?"
Hermione struggled to move the blankets off herself. It felt like her arms were made of lead.
Yes.
"Leave them."
It took her a moment to realize that the last sentence had not been from Bellatrix. She looked up into the hard gaze of her potions' professor, and groaned.
"Finally! Do you have any idea how close we came!? Of all the stupid-"
"You've been shivering on and off all night. Leave them alone, you'll want them in a minute."
"Where am I?"
"You are in the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."
Snape walked nearer, taking the vacant chair by Hermione's bedside. She was in a tiny room, barely big enough for the bed and the chair. A tall window at the foot of her bed filled the room with blinding light. The walls were covered in yellowing wallpaper that sported tiny pink flowers. A thick crack wrapped around two of the walls, splitting the paper open to reveal the plaster and wood beneath. The floor was scuffed and worn, and a threadbare blanket had been thrown in a corner.
Bellatrix was still going. "-reckless, self-indulgent-"
"Does your wound hurt?" Snape asked silkily.
She gulped. This was the tone he used when he was particularly upset. The last time he had used this tone on her had been when she was nine and had blown up his favorite cauldron.
She shook her head.
"One can only hope that it was the result of an intelligence reducing potion-"
"Good, drink this."
He handed her a mug filled with an oozing yellow liquid. It tasted sickly sweet, and she had to hold her breath to get it down.
"All done? Good." He took the mug from her, and banished it. "Now, I do hope that you realize that your foolish actions nearly jeopardized over a decade of hard work and planning. What, pray tell, were you planning to tell the Dark Lord when he showed up?"
"Oh yes, please enlighten us with your brilliant plan." Spat Bellatrix, who had stopped her litany to listen to Snape. Hermione didn't have the strength to block the conversation from Bellatrix with Occlumency.
"He was there?"
Yes, idiot!
Snape nodded, "After your father had successfully cast a glamor charm on you. He does not know you were there."
"And he won't find out. I've obliviated the other Death Eaters who were in the room. I suggest you do the same to your friends."
"But it was a very close call. Do you know what he would have done to you had he found out? To your family?"
Snape always had a way of letting the words sink in so that they really hurt.
"Mercy is not a concept that our Lord is acquainted with."
"You would have been lucky if he killed you in a blind rage."
Hermione gulped, grateful now for the blankets.
Something in Snape's gaze softened.
"You are very young, still." He said, "You will learn. The glamor was a good start. When you've healed we will work on charms that only you can remove. Rest now."
He stood, and moved to the door.
"Professor?"
"Hm?"
"What happened, er… after I...?"
He sighed, and massaged his temples. "The other members of your little rescue mission were taken to St. Mungo's, with the exception of Mr. Potter. The Headmaster thought it prudent to keep you here in case the Dark Lord decides to raid St. Mungo's." His tone informed her that he did not think that was necessary.
"Is everyone… I mean did anyone…" she seemed unable to form the words.
"Your friends are safe. They were treated at St. Mungo's and released within a few hours. The Order arrived quickly and captured most of the Death Eaters." He watched her carefully. "The only casualty was Sirius Black."
"Sirius is dead?" She felt the blood drain from her face, and pulled the blankets closer around herself. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. "How?" Harry will be devastated.
"He underestimated his opponent."
It was a very Snape comment, she thought. Part of her wanted to throw something at him for his calm tone. The other part of her noticed the look in his eye. A look that was much gentler than she was used to seeing. A look she knew had nothing to do with Sirius.
"What aren't you telling me?"
"When I say that the Death Eaters were captured, I mean that all of them were captured, save for Bellatrix."
She was still trying to wrap her head around the idea that Sirius, who had always been so kind to her- who had teased her about how much his mother would have loved her- was dead. "I understand."
"Hermione-" she jerked at the sound of her name, "Your father has been arrested as a Death Eater."
Realization dawned on her. "He'll get out of it." She said immediately. "He'll renounce them. He can say he was under the Imperius curse or something."
"No, Hermione. Not this time. The Dark Lord is not dead anymore. Who is more of a threat to your Father, the Ministry, or the Dark Lord?"
Lucius would be an idiot to renounce the Dark Lord now. pointed out Bellatrix. Don't worry Doveling, we'll get him out soon enough.
Her words calmed Hermione somewhat, but the girl was unable to stop the tears that spilled down her cheeks.
Something was held to her lips, and then she was drinking a new potion. This one tasted strongly of Lavender.
"It's almost time for your next potion anyway. This one will make you sleep as it works to heal your body. Should I have Molly bring something up for you?"
For the briefest of moments, she felt his cool hand against her brow. It vanished so quickly that she would always wonder if it was real or not.
Mother. She tried to speak, but her mouth was too heavy to form words. Where's my mother?
"Hush now. I'll get her."
The last person Narcissa wanted to see was her sister. She had spent most of the night speaking with an Auror about her husband's connections with the "newly re-emergent He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Luckily he left before Bellatrix showed up, but he had promised that he would return.
But when her sister showed up hissing that Dumbledore had kidnapped her child and whisked her away to the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, Narcissa did not ask how she came about this information, she merely thanked her, donned her cloak, and left.
Moments later she strode through the Hogwarts corridors with her wand out and sparking.
They really need to work on their security, she mused as she strode up to the stone gargoyle that she knew led to the Headmaster's office. Not a single staff member had noticed her.
"Liquorice wands," she snapped to the creature. It sprang back instantly, and she stalked up the stairs.
"DUMBLEDORE!" she roared, pounding on the door. "Where are my children!?"
The door opened slowly, and she was met with calm blue eyes and a polite smile. "Hello Narcissa. To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"Why was I not informed that my children were involved in a dangerous altercation with fully trained Death Eaters? Where are they!?"
"Draco is in the Hufflepuff common room-"
"I'm taking him home now. Where's Hermione?"
At that, his smile became a little more forced. "She is safe-"
"I'll determine that once I've had a chance to get her home."
"Now, Narcissa, we really should discuss-"
"Discuss what, Dumbledore? How you've withheld important information involving the safety of my children?"
"Actually, that's exactly what I wanted to discuss. With Lucius gone it seems entirely likely that the Dark Lord will seek to punish him by filling your home with Death Eaters. If that is the case… well, would it really be the best environment for Hermione and Draco?"
Anyone else would have cringed from the look Narcissa gave him, but Albus merely twiddled his thumbs and gazed placidly back at her.
"Are you insinuating that I cannot keep my children safe?"
He had the nerve to crack a smile, "Not at all, my dear. I'm merely suggesting that we discuss all of our options."
Bristling, she squeezed her wand tighter, and sparks shot out, singing the edge of his desk. "I will take my son and daughter home today Albus, and if the Dark Lord decides to pay us a visit my children and I will visit our holiday home in Brittany. I've half a mind to enroll them in Beauxbatons anyway-"
"Now Narcissa, let's not be rash," he said, a hard glint entering his eyes. "Our agreement was that-"
"I've had enough of your agreement old man!" She was breathing hard through her nose, and she could feel her face burning a furious red. She wanted nothing more than to hex him. "I agreed to allow you to train Hermione. You have done so. I agreed to let you use her to spy on the Dark Lord. She is doing so. I did not agree to having you keep secrets about my children from me!"
"It is because of me that you have Hermione in your life at all."
The moment he said that he looked abashed. "Forgive me. I'm overtired, I didn't mean-"
"You did." Her grip relaxed on the wand. All the anger drained from her voice. "I know that I was not ecstatic to accept Hermione into our family. But things have changed." She flicked her wand, repairing the singe marks. "Regardless of my feelings at first, Hermione is my daughter, not yours. I will be taking her home, and if you do anything to stop me I will take my case to the Wizengamot and make it so that you will never see her again."
And then, for what she believed to be the first time, she saw him. Not the merry, twinkling eyed headmaster that people loved or hated, but the true Albus Dumbledore. All at once the weariness of his years of plotting was evident on his face. He let out a long breath.
"The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is at Number 12, Grimmauld Place." He opened a drawer and removed a quill, a bottle of crimson ink, and two sheets of parchment.
Scribbling a quick note on the first, he explained "This is a note to Draco's head of house, explaining that he is to be released early." He tapped it with his wand, banishing it. "He'll meet you in the Entrance Hall. I'll have an elf send Hermione's things to Malfoy Manor."
"And this," he pulled the second piece of parchment towards him, "will inform the Order that you are taking Hermione with you. I will have it sent promptly, so they should be expecting your arrival."
She nodded stiffly. Seeing no reason to remain, she moved to the door.
"Narcissa."
She turned to look at him, and was struck by how old he looked in the pale light of the window. His office, though filled with numerous shiny trinkets, was void of any personal photos. Had she been feeling slightly kinder towards him she might have pitied the lonely picture he presented.
"I want you to know that I care deeply for Hermione as well."
Few would have caught the slightly pleading note in his tone, but Narcissa heard it clearly.
"My father raced horses," she said, "and he claimed to love them all. One in particular, Black's Gold. He would brush him every day, feed him from the palm of him hand. Once he spent a night in the stables during a storm because poor Goldie was terrified of thunder." She smiled mirthlessly. "Then Goldie broke his leg." She curled her lip and sneered at the headmaster. "He could have been healed, but he'd never run the same again. My father told the stable boy to burn it, and fetch another.'"
Albums watched her carefully, not speaking.
"You see, he cared for the horse deeply. But once it lost its usefulness to him he lost all feeling for it."
Dumbledore worked his jaw. "I would never-"
"I know. Hermione is not a horse. And you-" she let out a bitter laugh, "are not my father. But I wonder who you would choose given the choice between defeating the Dark Lord and saving Hermione."
He opened and closed his mouth a few times. And then forced out the words "For the sake of the greater good-"
But Narcissa was already through the door.
XX
The ancestral home of the Black family had seen better days.
She took in the peeling paint, the tarnished door knob, and the empty flower beds. The once regal home was now shabby.
"This used to be the finest house in Britain," she told Draco, who had eagerly stated that he would go with her to get his sister.
Luckily, Nymphadora answered the door.
"Hi Aunt Cissy, Draco," she said, her tone more subdued than usual. Her hair was lacking it's usual color, and instead was a mousy brown. "Hermione's over in the room by the kitchen. You've come just in time. Dumbledore just sent a note that Grimmauld Place had been compromised."
Narcissa gripped her wand steadily. "Compromised how?"
Her niece scowled, "The house elf is working with the Death Eaters."
Narcissa's stomach clenched guiltily. She knew about Bellatrix's plans for the Elf, but she never dreamed…
Thankfully, her thoughts vanished as soon as she entered the dingy servant's room.
Looking very pale, Hermione lay beneath a mountain of blankets. Her chest was rising and falling quickly, and there were deep purple circles beneath her eyes.
"Narcissa," Severus sat in one corner, a leather potion's kit next to him on the floor. He stood, and approached the bed.
"What happened?" Narcissa asked, eyes wide as she reached to stroke Hermione's feverish brow.
Draco answered, "Hermione used a silencing charm on Dolohov, and he hit her with a curse."
Nodding, Severus elaborated, "A particularly nasty one, which would have been fatal if he had been able to speak at the time."
Peeling back the blankets, he lifted the edge of Hermione's hospital gown and showed her the wound. It was a horrible, violent red-and-green roughly the size of a plum. The area around it was blistered, but so heavily poulticed that Narcissa could not see how bad it was.
She was going to kill Dolohov. Not sweetly, with the killing curse, but in the most violent, festering way she could imagine.
"She is on a strict potion regimen." He briefly laid out the details of said regimen, promising to come twice a day for the next fortnight to administer the potions and check on the progress of the healing.
With slight hesitation, he asked, "Will you be at the Manor?"
She nodded. "For now. At least until she's healed. She should be in her own bed."
He nodded. "Would you like help transporting her?"
"We brought a Portkey," Draco held up one of Hermione's old books. "Mother did something so that it would take Hermione straight to her bed."
Appreciation gleamed in Severus' eyes. "The Healer's Portkey. Well done."
She smirked, "You're not the only one who keeps their abilities close, Severus."
Gently, she took the book and placed it beneath Hermione's arm.
"Thank you," she said to the potion's master.
He nodded, "I'll be by around six this evening."
She smiled, and took Draco's hand. Tapping gently on the book with her wand she said "Take us home."
There was a pop, and they appeared in Hermione's bedroom at the Manor.
"Absolutely not." The pile of multicolored blankets had travelled with them, and Narcissa banished them immediately. "Dollop!"
A thin elf appeared with a crack, his arms full of fresh, clean blankets. "MIstress called? Dollop has the blankets ready."
"Put them on the bed and tell Mardie to send up some soup and water. Then bring the bathtub up here. There's no telling what kinds of infections she was exposed to in that place."
"It's pretty clean, Mum." Draco said, "Uncle Sev would never let her be in a dirty place."
She had to admit that was true. She did not know that Molly Weasley herself had attacked that room with all manners of cleansing charms.
"Still, she should have a bath if she wants it." She combed Hermione's hair away from her face, and winced as she felt how warm she was. "And bring me a pan with cool water, and a cloth."
The elf disappeared.
"Draco, would you like me to have Mardie bring some food for you as well?"
He shrugged, "I'm not really hungry right now. I think I'll go find Turnip. She'd like to see him when she wakes."
Narcissa nodded. "Dumbledore said he's send Hermione's things over. Though with him behind it you'd better check the gardens first"
With Draco gone, the room seemed smaller. A kitchen elf appeared with a tray that was set on the bedside table.
She spread the blankets over Hermione, gently tucking them around her form. Her daughter shivered in her sleep, brow knitted. "Hush darling, it's alright." She sat on the edge of the bed, and stroked her cheek. "You're home now."
Hermione's eyelids fluttered, and cracked open to reveal bloodshot eyes. "Mother?"
"I'm here darling."
The girl licked her lips, "Papa- they took him to-"
"Shhh," crooned Narcissa. She held the glass of water to Hermione's lips, encouraging her to drink. "I know. It's ok."
It wasn't really, but she would figure it out. Truth be told, she was so angry at her husband that she could not bring herself to go to him.
She spent the rest of the day tending to Hermione. Draco darted in and out, reading aloud for a bit, or explaining what had happened in hushed tones to his mother. Turnip lay at Hermione's feet while they spoke, his eyes gazing dolefully up at Hermione. His fur was white.
"I hope he feels terrible," groused Draco after a small period of silence.
Narcissa blinked, "Your father?"
He nodded. "He should. Aiming a wand at teenagers. What kind of man-"
"I'm sure the guilt is killing him." She had no doubt that he would have cursed Potter without second thought, and any other child that raised their wands against him. Except for his children. He loved them more than his own life, and she just hoped that he didn't try to do something stupid in Azkaban that would prevent him from coming home and apologizing properly.
"I'm glad he's gone," Draco glared at the hangings of Hermione's four-poster. "He deserves to rot in prison."
Before she could react, a high squeal filled the room.
"Mistress! Master Snape is here to see you!" Dollop ran into the room, his ears flapping wildly. He was followed by Severus.
"Severus, thank you for coming." She stood, offering her seat.
"No need, Narcissa," He set his potions kit on Hermione's bed. "Has she been sleeping this whole time?"
Narcissa nodded, "She drifts in and out of consciousness."
He nodded. "That should continue for a few days." He waved his wand over Hermione. There was a flash of green light, and then a shower of black sparks.
"Hm."
"What does that mean?" asked Draco.
"It means that she is stable." He waved his wand again, and this time Hermione glowed a dark blue momentarily. "But dehydrated. Draco, could you go instruct the cook to send up more water, some broth for Hermione, and perhaps some tea for the rest of us?" He seemed to remember where he was, and turned to Narcissa, "That is, if-"
She waved her hand, "That's fine, Severus."
Draco nodded, and hurried off.
As soon as he had gone, Severus turned to her.
"The Dark Lord is not happy. He intends to leave Lucius and the others to rot in Azkaban for a time. And-" he sighed, opening his potions' kit, "he's scheduled Bellatrix's punishment for this evening."
Her eyes flicked to Hermione. "He schedules punishments?"
Nodding, Severus explained, "He feels the… anticipation is an essential part of the punishment. I expect he'll use the cruciatus curse. I'm dosing Hermione with dreamless sleep, just in case the occlumency shields have been compromised by the curse."
Narcissa shivered, remembering how Bellatrix had known exactly where Hermione had been. "They have been," she said.
He glanced up at her, the contents of his bag clinking as he rummaged around for the potions. "You're certain?"
Mutely, she nodded.
He pulled out another bottle, and set it a little further apart than the others. "Then that's a calming draught."
"Can she take that along with the Dreamless Sleep?" Narcissa leaned over and ruffled her fingers through Turnip's pale fur. The wubble was gazing mournfully up at Hermione,
Severus did not look at her. "It's not ideal, but it will not harm her." He fastened his case, tapped his wand to it, and opened it again. Now, instead of the case being filled with potions it was full of bandages and medical supplies."Dumbledore wants to see her."
Immediately she snarled, "If that man thinks he's coming within a-"
"I have, of course," he drawled on as if she hadn't spoke, "convinced him that he should stay away for now. But he does expect to have access to meeting with her. He has also stepped in with the Ministry. There was a raid planned on the Manor this afternoon, but Albus convinced them to issue a formal notice and follow standard protocol. " He gently lifted the blankets away from Hermione, and begin to change the bandages on her wound.
Never before had she felt so helpless. "Should we move her?" The idea of Bellatrix's hunting lodge flashed through her mind. It was far from ideal..,
"I don't think that's necessary."
Turnip whined a little, and shifted to a more comfortable position.
"She deserves a normal childhood, Severus. They both do. Draco should be out playing Quidditch until Dusk, and Hermione should be-"
"Following Lucius to the Ministry every day?" Severus cut in, smirking.
She nodded,
"It just happens that the Dark Lord may help her have the closest thing to a 'normal' summer she could get. All things considered."
Frowning, she leaned closer. "What do you mean, Severus?"
His smirk never wavered as he told her the Dark Lord's plan for Hermione's summer.
Two days later, a dark figure stole across the grounds of Malfoy Manor. The sun was not yet up, so the sky was plum-colored with a promising streak of lavender on the horizon. Dew shone in the light from her wand, sparkling as she brushed by.
It had been a rough few days from Bellatrix. The Dark Lord had saved her, yes, but there were several moments yesterday when she wondered if Azkaban would really be worse that his wrath. She really should have gone home to dip into a scalding bath.
Instead she was breaking into her sister's home.
She should not be doing this. Part of her screamed that it was weakness to care so deeply about the child. That the best thing to do would be to go home, recoup, and determine the best way to tackle the girl's training. The Dark Lord had insinuated more than once that he expected the girl to exceed the other Death Eaters in skill, and based on what she saw at the Ministry, they had a long way to go. If the Dark Lord was disappointed, she did not want to know what would happen to them.
But another part of her could not relax. Hermione's silence in her head had been unnerving. Even during periods where they had not been speaking she had felt the girl's emotions race through her, had heard her loudest thoughts like a voice from the other end of a deep well. She needed to see her with her own eyes.
The wards let her through with only a minimal groan. She smirked, and then winced. She had bitten through her lip last night, and she hadn't been able to properly heal it yet.
Though she had never physically walked to Hermione's room, she was certain she could find it with her eyes closed.
She walked through the portrait-lined corridor, and frowned at the streak of light that poured from the crack beneath Draco's door. The last thing she needed right now was to run into her Potter-loving nephew.
But Draco did not come to the door. Nor did he burst into the corridor after she glided into Hermione's room.
The strange tingling sensation she had felt in the Ministry began the second she entered the room. It was subtler, but very noticeable.
Hermione lay in the middle of an enormous bed. She was pale, but her breathing was clear and even. Beside the bed, in a comfortable recliner, slept Narcissa. Her head was shoved at an awkward angle against the arm of the chair, and Bellatrix wished that she had a camera.
In order to assure that her sister remained sleeping during their visit, Bellatrix pointed her wand at her and whispered "Somnum." It would only last for a quarter of an hour, but it would be enough.
There was a jingle, and she saw a pale dog raise his head from where he lay at Hermione's side. He stared at her for a long moment, and then wagged his tail slowly.
"Hello Turnip," she said, holding out her hand to let him sniff her.
A warm tongue lapped at her hand, and she grinned outright, ignoring the stab of pain in her lip.
"That's a good boy," she said, reaching to scratch beneath his chin. "You guard your mistress well." She settled on the bed, making sure that Hermione was between her and Narcissa. Turnip crawled up so that he was pressed against her, and she gave him a few affectionate pats.
Her eyes trailed up the bed, landing on the sleeping face.
She was real.
Ever since the first time she had heard Hermione in her head she had harbored the secret fear that she had gone mad. She hadn't cared while she was in Azkaban. She had figured that being mad and having refuge in a hallucination was better than being sane and alone in that hellhole.
She was relieved, of course, that Hermione hadn't been a hallucination. But then, to have someone alive who knew so much about her…
She studied the curves of Hermione's face. She hadn't expected her to be so… Grown up. The Hermione she pictured was still a little girl.
But the person lying on the bed was practically a woman. A woman she had been tasked with training for a life of service to the Dark Lord.
There was no better life, she tried to convince herself. Hermione would be happy restoring true order to the world. But even as she thought it, she knew it was a lie. And that bothered her.
Frowning, she reached out to brush the hair away from Hermione's face.
And gasped.
The moment her fingers brushed against Hermione's skin the thrumming beneath her skin stopped.
She jerked her fingers away, and glanced at Turnip. The wubble thumped his tail in approval, his eyes gazing back at her in adoration.
Slowly, she placed her hand against Hermione's cheek.
It was like being wrapped in a warm blanket. A strange feeling of contented was settled over her, easing the sheer exhaustion that came from the Dark Lord's punishment. warmth spread from her palm, up her arm and throughout her body. She blinked in wonderment.
Bella?
Like a child caught doing something wrong, she snatched her hand away. "I'm here." But she was smiling again.
Hermione's eyes fluttered open, then closed. I'm sorry… Her voice inside Bellatrix's head was faint, and Bellatrix could feel the exhaustion rolling off of her. I'm trying… To keep them… Open.
Images flashed through Bellatrix's mind. A woman in a white dress laughing, racing through an ornate ballroom. It took her a moment to realize that Hermione was still dreaming. Or trying to wake up from a dream. Either way, neither of them were appropriately rested enough for a proper reunion.
"Sleep, Dove. I just wanted to make sure you were ok."
Hermione did not respond, and Bellatrix could see her dream more clearly now. The woman in white was still evading her, her glossy curls bouncing as she ducked around a marble column.
A soft smile spread across Bellatrix's face. She wanted nothing more than to touch Hermione again. To figure out what was happening- how deep their connection went. But she couldn't bring herself to do so. Instead she gave Turnip another scratch, noting that his pale fur was beginning to turn the lightest of blues, his ears tinged a rosy pink.
"Sleep well," Bellatrix whispered.
Neither of the sleeping occupants so much as twitched, but Turnip watched the woman leave with a doggish grin on his face. Then he dropped his head to his paws and slept peacefully for the first time in days.
A/N: Does anyone else feel like this has been the worst week ever? Well, your reviews have been cheering me up. Thank you, as always. Please let me know what you think of this one.