Trigger Warning: Mentions of past non-con towards the end of this chapter.
She landed unsteadily on the wide lawn, and fell gracelessly onto her side. For a moment, all she could do was reel as the world spun around her.
"Sorry, Dove," Bellatrix's hands slid beneath her arms and hoisted her to her feet.
Hermione looked up, expecting to see the beautiful baroque Malfoy Manor, and felt her stomach drop as she gazed instead upon Riddle Manor.
"I can't," she said, shrinking against Bellatrix. "Not tonight, Bella."
"Shhh," Bellatrix wrapped an arm around her, "Just for a little while, it's what we do after tasks, you see? And then I'm taking you home with me."
Hermione let out a shaky breath, and nodded. As much as she wanted her mother, she also knew she would not be able to bear looking into her eyes when she found out what Hermione had done.
Her legs shook with exhaustion as she climbed to the now-familiar room where Voldemort waited for his followers.
Wormtail answered the door at her knock, and brushed to the side to allow her entrance.
"Hermione!" Red eyes glinted in the dim light of the fire, and a cushioned stool was conjured for her. The smell of decay filled the room, and Hermione took shallow breaths through her mouth to lessen the impact. Bellatrix's gaze was proud as she dropped into the chair beside Voldemort's.
"Tell me, is it done?"
Hermione nodded. Her gaze fell to her lap.
The other witch took over. "We were forced to retreat before we could take Hogwarts, my lord. The whole Auror Department-"
"But Dumbledore is dead?"
Bellatrix's voice was proud, "Yes, my lord."
"Then Hogwarts is of little consequence. We'll take it over when we get control of the Ministry."
Bellatrix's relief flooded into Hermione, "Thank you!"
He hummed, and looked over to her. "You don't look happy, child."
Of course she didn't. She realized with a start that Dumbledore had never told her how to act after his death. The script was entirely up to her now. "I… I'm happy that my father will be free, my lord."
There was a warm chuckle, "Ah, yes. He will be, thanks to you. In fact, the whole of Magical Britain is free now thanks to you. Wormtail! Fetch me the best wine we have! And three glasses- alright, four. Even you have cause to celebrate tonight, Wormtail!"
After a few minutes she felt calmer, and it took her a moment to realize that it came from Bellatrix. The dark witch gave her a warm smile, and took it upon herself to tell the story of how the great Albus Dumbledore had been killed by his own student.
The story was finished by the time Wormtail huffed his way back into the room. His breathing was the only sound in the room as he poured the burgundy liquid and fetched a chair for himself.
"No, leave us," Voldemort said when he had dragged a chair up beside Bellatrix's. "I'd like only untainted Death Eaters in the room for this."
Hermione sat up straighter. What more could he possibly ask of her that night?
The door snapped shut none too gently, and the three gazed at each other. Two in confusion, and one in merriment.
"Hermione, my child. You have made me prouder than I could say on this day."
A pale hand stroked through her messy curls, and she barely suppressed a shudder.
"My Lord?" Bellatrix scooted to the edge of her chair.
"Hermione, your arm."
Numbly, Hermione held out her left arm. She knew what was coming, had known that it would come, but somehow she had hoped to get out of it. Now, she had no fight left in her.
"You have done me the greatest service anyone could have done for me." For a moment, she wondered what it would have been like to be Bellatrix, and to have a handsome Dark Lord say those words to her. Despite her misgivings, pride curled around her. "I grant you the greatest honor I can give. With this mark, you will become one of my most trusted, none but me will have more power than you. Will you accept it?"
There was nothing else she could say. "Yes."
He held her wrist firmly in his grasp, and pressed the tip of his wand to the unblemished skin of her inner forearm.
She let out a hiss as something pushed into her skin. It burned, Merlin it burned! But it also took her breath away and left her panting as the strangest sensation washed over her. It was like she was floating miles above herself. All the pain and exhaustion of the evening washed away, and she was left with a strange exhilaration. The pain was delicious, the pain was necessary, but it was nothing like the sensation of belonging that filled her. Giddiness filled her, and she reached for Bellatrix's hand.
Can you feel that?
"Yes, Doveling. I feel it."
I-I can't-I don't know what to do!
"Just relax, it will last for a few hours."
Hermione wished he were not there. Her body felt as if it were on fire- but also as if she had been hit with a thousand cheering charms. She could feel every sensation keenly, and it all pulsed around the glowing fire that raced across her left arm.
He released her, and she let out a breath she had not realized she had been holding. She wanted to laugh and scream at the same time.
She downed the rest of her wine, and he let out a laugh that scraped across her ears as he refilled it.
"It's a shame young Higgs could not be here for this," he said in his high voice. Too high. "He called for her during his own marking. It's always heartwarming when young lovers get marked together."
A new sensation settled heavily across her chest, and it took her a moment to realize it was Bellatrix's jealousy. Why was she jealous? Hermione frowned, and stood on shaky legs, "Bella." She had to be nearer to her. There was nothing else on Earth that could keep her from the dark witch. Not even the Dark Lord.
Bellatrix let out a concerned squawk as Hermione climbed onto her lap and curled her head against her chest. The pleasant feeling that always washed over her when she touched Bellatrix was magnified tenfold, and she felt drunk from it.
My Bella. She nuzzled her cheek against the smooth skin of Bellatrix's neck. The high cold laugh sounded behind her.
"Doveling, be careful."
There was another cold laugh, "Then again, some of them just seek out the comfort of family."
What was he talking about?
"I think she's over-tired, my lord. May I take her home?"
"Of course, of course. I expect- Ah, here they are!"
Suddenly, the room was full of people, and Hermione shrank against Bellatrix as too many voices filled the room.
"Ah! Someone's been marked!"
"-The Malfoy girl? Lucius will be proud-"
"-was just as bad when I was marked. I found a corner and-"
Voldemort's voice cried out, "Ah! Severus! You should be proud of your pupil today. She has taken the mark!"
Despite the haze of her thoughts, Hermione pulled her head up to meet her uncle's black gaze.
"I'm glad you're ok," she whispered. There was a smattering of laughs around her, and she realized that were it not for the strange fog the mark had put her in she would have been embarrassed.
Snape did not laugh. His gaze was serious as he took her in. "I'm glad you are ok too, Hermione."
And then she was on her feet, and Bellatrix said something about the floo. She could barely pull up an argument against the floo before Bellatrix shouted something and tossed her into the green flames.
She was spit out onto the floor of Bellatrix's bedroom. The sheepskin rug was soft beneath her, and she buried her face in it. A moment later Bellatrix herself came through the floo, and she let out a gentle laugh as she hoisted Hermione onto the bed.
"Bella!" Hermione whined, "It doesn't feel good." She let out a heavy laugh, "I mean it does, but it doesn't! I hate it!"
Kneeling on the wooden floor before her, Bellatrix clucked in sympathy, "It's never going to be as strong as it is right now." she promised.
Hermione's eyes widened, "You mean it does this a lot?" She had to move, her body practically screamed at her to move, so she began rocking back and forth. Her hands raked back and forth across Bellatrix's skin, and the sensation was so powerful that she could hardly bear it.
"Only when he wants it to," Bellatrix said softly. "When you do something right, he can make you feel more pleasure then you've ever felt in your life." Her gaze darkened, "And when you fail him he can put you in incredible pain without a curse. But it never lasts long, and he almost always prefers the curse. More control."
Hermione reached for her, lust coiling inside her until it felt as if it would tear her apart. She tugged Bellatrix close and pressed her lips hungrily against hers.
Gentle hands pushed her back. "Not like this."
A noise halfway between a wail and a scream ripped itself from her throat, and she shook as her hands fisted into Bellatrix's robes. "Please!"
"It won't help." Her eyes were apologetic, but firm. "And I'm not going to do anything while you are like this. It wouldn't be right."
Something clicked into place. "He's done this to you?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide. "He's made you feel like this? Wh-when you were marked?"
She didn't need to say anything, her eyes confirmed it.
The Dark Lord's red eyes flew through her mind, and she remembered what he said about lovers. She felt as if she would be sick. "Has he ever…"
Bellatrix shook her head, "I promise you, I've never slept with the Dark Lord." There was something else though, a hesitation that Hermione picked up on.
"Someone else then?"
Shame, heavy and painful and not hers, washed over Hermione. She reached out and tangled her fingers a little too tightly in Bellatrix's curls. "When did you get the mark, Bella?"
There was a faraway look in her eyes that Hermione wanted to chase away. Bellatrix swallowed, and said in a hushed tone, "On my wedding night." Her mouth twisted in a grim smile, "It was his gift to us. I was going to call it off, but the Dark Lord saw the marriage as advantageous and promised me that I would earn the mark if I followed through."
"And… the magic from the mark…"
Bellatrix's nod confirmed it.
"But you… you hate him." She felt her own desire diminidh, and the elation that sang through her veins was dampened by the realization of what Bellatrix had gone through.
There was a sigh, and the bed dipped as Bellatrix climbed onto the sheets beside her. Hermione leaned into her, inhaling deeply. She smelled like spices and night air. Crisp and deep.
"You don't need to worry about this in your state."
Hermione's eyes shot open, and she studied the sharp curve of Bellatrix's jaw. She wanted to reassure her that she could be there for her in any state. "I hate him. The Dark Lord. He shouldn't do this to people."
"He didn't know how cruel Rodolphus would be," Bellatrix said quietly. "He apologized, afterwards, and permitted me to find my own living quarters." She swallowed. "When he tried to follow me, the Dark Lord made it clear that I was to be left alone. Annulments are difficult, you see- but our Lord promised that when he has control over the ministry he'll push it through."
Hermione opened her mouth to ask why he pushed so hard for them to be married in the first place, but stopped. Bellatrix's distress flooded into her, and she knew it was time to stop talking about this. At that moment, a flare of pain came from her arm, and she hissed.
Immediately, Bellatrix lifted the cursed arm to her chest and stroked cool fingers down the mark. The act in itself did little to soothe Hermione, but she swallowed heavily and pulled her arm away so she could twine her fingers through Bellatrix's.
"I'll kill him, Bella." she promised. She wasn't entirely sure if she was speaking about the Dark Lord or Rodolphus, and from the look in her eye, Bellatrix wasn't either.
"Be careful, Dove. If anything happens to you-"
"Nothing will happen to either of us." She had to be closer to Bellatrix, and she scooted forward so that her body was flush against the older witch's. This time, she wrapped her arms around Bellatrix, and felt the other witch take a deep, shuddering breath.
They stayed like that for a long while. Hermione felt waves of joy and sorrow wash over her in quick succession, and buried her face in the tangle of dark curls before her. Her body shook, as if trying to rattle out the strange poison that scalded the veins of her left arm.
After a long while, Bellatrix twisted in her arms and studied her. She must have decided something, for she stood, and summoned a House Elf. Hermione laid her cheek against the cool cotton sheets and shivered in the warm air. After a few minutes of watching the elf build a fire and conjure a large bathtub, she began to giggle.
"What's so funny?" asked Bellatrix, her lips quirked in a half-smile.
"I k-killed Uncle Albus," giggled Hermione helplessly. Her fingers plucked restlessly at the fabric of her robes. "And now I'm a Marked Death Eater."
Neither one of them acknowledged the sorrow that drenched through their bond.
"Let's get you into the bath," Bellatrix said. She pulled Hermione gently to her feet, and helped her shrug off the soiled robes.
The water was warm and calming, and Hermione let out a shaking breath as she leaned against the porcelain edge. "Everyone's going to hate me," she whispered.
"Nonsense," Bellatrix pulled a stool close, and rested her elbows on the side of the tub. "No one will hate you."
Something trickled down her cheek, and Hermione brushed it away. "I hate myself," she confessed.
Bellatrix's warm hand slid into hers, and she clung to it with all she had.
"You are more dear to me than anything else in this world," Bellatrix swore. She ran her lips over Hermione's knuckles, and the girl felt the sensation up her whole arm.
"I'm never going to be able to look Mother in the eye again," she moaned.
The water sloshed as Bellatrix poured an herbal solution into it, and Hermione felt the fire in her veins lessen the slightest bit. She sighed, and leaned her head back.
"It will get better, my doveling. Your mother will understand. She will, I promise."
"But Draco won't."
A warm hand rested against her cheek. "Don't think about it for now. Think of something else. Have I ever told you about the time I was sent to be the Dark Lord's emissary to the werewolves?"
Listless, Hermione shook her head.
"Well, it didn't go as well as he hoped. They had a campground of sorts- and I forgot that I was supposed to bring an ox as tribute, so I showed up empty handed…"
Her insides were tangled, pleasure and pain fighting for dominance, but she found that the story helped to distract her a little from the overwhelming sensations. She lay in the tub, shivering and twitching, and tried to lose herself in Bellatrix's voice.