When it was all over and done Hermione found the takeover of the Ministry of Magic to be rather anticlimactic. Much of this was due to the fact that she was assigned to secure the Department of Mysteries with her father, Amycus Carrow, and a band of five of Ma Griesly's people.
When they arrived at the circular room they found the entire department standing there holding their wands in the palm of their hands in the "surrender" pose. Though she had been nervous about what tricks the Department might pull, she was somewhat let down by the lack of action.
Her father, who was much imporved thanks to Uncle Severus' regimine of potions, smoothly took down names and secured wands while Hermione and Amycus walked through the Department. It was no less strange than it had been the first time she had entered the halls, but the bright lights and soft warbling of Celestina Warbeck from a forgotten radio took away the forbidden thrill of being in the most secretive rooms in the Ministry.
Amycus prodded the brain tank with his wand and guffawed as the occupants bobbed angrily.
Hermione grit her teeth as a phantom pain bloomed over her chest. Even though Bellatrix had been getting into scrapes often enough over the last year, it still felt odd whenever Hermione could feel the other witch's injuries. It was not painful enough to be serious, but she still reached out for Bellatrix in her mind. She was instantly met with the dark witch's glee.
I'm glad one of us is having fun, she thought tersely as Amycus prodded again.
"Please don't," came the reedy plea of the woman in charge of leading them through the department. She was short, and dressed in pale yellow robes that washed out her fair hair. "We try not to agitate them."
Amycus guffawed, and tapped his wand harder against the glass.
Muttering a quick "Hominum Revelio!" Hermione was satisfied that the room was clear. She held her head up and walked to the door on the far side and yanked it open.
Cold seeped through her bones, and she gaped at the creature in the middle of the room. "You have a Dementor?" She turned, dumbfounded to the woman, who fidgeted.
"It's caged, it's perfectly harmless."
It was too. A shimmering silver cage held it secure, but the creature jerked against the bars closest to Hermione and let out a piercing wail.
"I think I'd better check the other side," said Amycus, looking a bit pale. "I'll meet you in the entrance, Malfoy."
Hermione nodded, wishing she could go with him. Instead she searched the room. Like the others, it was empty, as was the one after it.
"Just one left," said the woman in yellow. Her tone was far too cheery for Hermione's liking. Nevertheless, she followed the woman through the last door.
"This is-"
"The Hall of Prophecies," said Hermione slowly. Half of the shelves stood empty, but still thousands of orbs glittered in the dim arms prickled with unease. She cast the revelation spell quickly, and breathed a sigh when it came back negative. At least now she might be able to join in the action.
The woman stepped forward, "This is my office," she said in her high voice. In the glowing light of the prophecy orbs she looked ghostly. "I just got a new shipment in last week. It's been so chaotic lately, prophecies are popping up left and right, but imagine my surprise when I found one labeled directly for the Department of Mysteries." She turned her pale eyes to Hermione, and the younger woman took an instinctive step back.
"What did it say?" she asked before she could think better of it.
For a moment, the woman smiled placidly at her, and then she said, "That wasn't the only prophecy that came in that day. There was another. Do you want to know who it was meant for?"
She had to force her voice to sound sturdy, "Who?"
The woman blinked, and her smile widened. "Why, for you, Miss Malfoy." She turned into the shelves, and Hermione followed behind her. Every inch of her body told her to stun the woman and get out, but she swallowed past the lump in her throat and found herself staring at a little orb marked H. Malfoy, 30th July 1997.
A prophecy had been made about her?
"Go on, take it." Said the woman. "It's not often that we have the subject back here, and when we do…" she trailed off and grinned, revealing teeth that looked a little too sharp.
I don't want to know, Hermione thought to herself, staring at the luminous orb. She licked her lips, and realized how dry her mouth had become.
"Go on," prompted the woman again.
Taking it doesn't mean I have to listen to it, thought Hermione. It was better to have it than to leave it here where anyone else could stumble upon it. Suppose it mentioned her ancestry?
A clock chimed from somewhere above them, and Hermione shivered.
Hermione reached for the prophecy, and gasped at how cold it was. With trembling fingers she stuffed it into her robe pocket.
The woman acted like nothing had happened as she led Hermione back through the labyrinth of offices. Hermione briefly considered obliviating her, but decided that she would likely do more damage than she was comfortable with if she did.
Her father smiled his ministry smile at her when she stepped back into the circular chamber.
"All clear?" He asked as Amycus stumbled out behind her.
She nodded, "There's no one here."
"Excellent," He turned to the awaiting crowd. "We will head to the Atrium now. If all is clear we will await our new Minister for further instruction."
There was the strange sensation of something sliding across her cheek, but Hermione squared her shoulders and followed the captive Unspeakables. She waited as her father and Amycus escorted the Unspeakables down the lifts in groups of four. None of them made the slightest move to escape, and she found herself scowling as she felt another phantom spell bounce off her shoulder.
Sure enough, the Atrium was a wreck. The sound of fighting echoed eerily off the high ceiling, but she could tell that the worst of the fighting was over.
"I should join them," she muttered to her father.
His hand was cool and steady on her shoulder. "No. You have an assignment. Stay here and wait for further instructions." His face was impassive, but his eyes flashed her a warning.
Gritting her teeth, she did as she was told. Slowly, the Atrium filled with employees and Death Eaters. Most looked afraid, and as Alecto ushered a shaking group of Records employees past the unmistakable scent of urine overpowered them.
Surprisingly, Alecto patted one on the back and said, "Hush now, no one's going to hurt you." She flashed Hermione an amused look, and moved the group closer to the fountain.
A few of Ma Griesly's people nodded to her as they moved past. Most of them were stoic, but a few whooped as they shot blasting curses over the Atrium, spilling glass and debris down on those assembled.
"At least some of us are having fun," groused Amycus. He looked as restless as Hermione felt. Slowly, his thick, scarred hands twisted his wand, and he barked at an Unspeakable who tried to sit- "Get up! You're a hostage, not a guest!"
Eventually, the sound of fighting died out, and A few battered employees were led-chained and collared- into the middle of the Atrium. Alecto's group gasped, and someone from across the room wailed, "Noooooo!"
Bellatrix and Terence, looking bruised but triumphant, were among the Death Eaters escorting the chained Aurors. Terence looked around, his features relaxing when he spotted Hermione, but Bellatrix kept her eyes (and her wand) firmly on the prisoners.
Are you hurt? Asked Hermione internally as she noted just how rough Bellatrix looked.
There was a snort, and then "They wish. Any trouble with the Unspeakables?"
None at all.
"Don't be so glum, Dove. You can't live a life of shining excitement at all times. Leave some glory for the rest of us."
Hermione rolled her eyes, and Bellatrix looked over and winked.
The noise in the Atrium slowly escalated as the assembled people began murmuring to themselves. There was an anxious feeling of expectation in the air. The Death Eaters (and those who followed the Dark Lord) watched the shifting captives idly, and Hermione's father patted her shoulder and murmured, "I'm going to check in with Bellatrix and Goyle. Keep your wand out."
She watched him make his rounds, and barely restrained herself from sighing. Amycus shuffled over to chat with Alecto, so she alone was responsible for the Unspeakables. Luckily, none of them made any move to escape or resist. Their placid, calm demeanor was eerie, and Hermione breathed easier when her father returned.
"It shouldn't be long now. Goyle is sending a group to round up the missing Department heads that are at the-" his lip curled in distaste, "Weasley wedding. They should be here shortly, it was a rather rambunctious group, I understand. The Dark Lord won't be coming, of course, but- ah! Here he is!"
At last, Pius Thicknesse, looking especially oily with slicked hair in robes of shimmering grey, stepped into the Atrium and performed a sonorus charm. Hermione tamped down her worry over Draco and Harry, and forced herself to focus on Thicknesse.
"Welcome, friends and colleagues! I join you as your newly appointed Minister-"
There was a roar of outrage from the chained Aurors, and Bellatrix made a swift slashing motion, silencing them all. Their mouths continued to move in angry, noiseless shouts, and Thicknesse chuckled darkly. "Thank you, Madam Lestrange."
Irritation prickled at Hermione's neck, but she kept her eyes steadily on the new Minister.
"Changes are coming, my friends," Thickness continued in a low tone. "You will all be receiving notifications shortly about the upcoming policies. We are in a period of revolution." He paused to look over the Ministry employees. "It is time to strengthen ourselves, and prepare to take our rightful place in the world!"
Most of the Death Eaters cheered, and Hermione nearly winced before she caught herself.
"I will be speaking to the head of each Department this afternoon," continued Thicknesse. "And we will conduct short interviews with each member of the Department before you are allowed to go home. Those who are ready and open for change should expect no further trouble. Those that are less willing will be detained until their loyalty to Magical Britain can be more thoroughly assessed." He parted his lips in what should have been a smile, but looked more like a grimace.
Instructions were given, and Hermione assisted her father in interviewing the unspeakables. To neither of their surprise, each unspeakable vowed loyalty immediately, and consented to having their wands registered.
"A short questionnaire will be sent to each of your homes this weekend," her father informed them, "It would be in your best interest to complete them immediately and return them to your Department Head."
Everyone nodded, and her father escorted the Department head to a special room for Thicknesse's interview. As he left, a new group shuffled into the Atrium, and Hermione caught the bloodied face of Arthur Weasley as he was shoved into the room with the other Department Heads.
The summer sun was beginning to dip low in the sky when Hermione finally returned home. Her father remained at the Ministry to take care of a few last minute items, and Bellatrix had gleefully decided to escort the still-dissenting Aurors to Azkaban. The Manor was dark and empty when she trudged up to her room.
"Winky," she whispered hoarsely into the dark bedroom.
The pop came at once, and Winky gasped at the sight of her. "Why is Mistress so pale? We must warm her up, we must! Winky will draw a bath!"
"No-" Hermione cleared her throat, "No, Winky. There's no time. I must- Something has happened to Draco!"
Winky was already pushing her towards the bathroom. "Shhh, Mistress. Do not excite yourself. Winky will find him. Winky is a good finder."
"I know you are," said Hermione tiredly. "I'm not- I can't get undressed, Winky. There's still so much to do. I have to clean myself up and go see My Lord-" her voice broke, and she sank to the floor, trembling.
Winky disappeared, and reappeared with a bottle of calming draught in one hand, and Turnip tucked (as much as he could be) under one arm. "Here, Mistress," she crooned, pushing the bottle into Hermione's shaking hands.
Turnip whined as he pressed warm and plush against her side. The Wubble licked her cheek as she downed the potion.
"Cc-an you get me a washcloth?" Hermione exhaled slowly, and buried her face in Turnip's dark fur while Winky ran a cloth under the tap and brought it to her. "You have to find him," she said, her voice still shaky even as she felt her nerves calm. "If the Death Eaters found him-"
"Winky will make sure Mistress' brother is safe," reassured the elf as she wiped down Hermione's face. "Mistress should still bathe- Ok, ok," she crooned again when Hermione protested, "Then let Winky fix Mistress' hair and makeup."
Hermione consented to this, and sat with her back against the tub and Turnip in her lap and the elf fussed over her. She forced a mug of peppermint tea in Hermione's hands, and bade her to drink as she went to work. Slowly, Hermione's breathing returned to normal, and her hands stilled. "I have something," she said as her hand knocked against the bulge in her pocket. She pulled the orb out and stared at the shimmering contents. For a moment she considered smashing it against the tile floor, and then she tightened her hold and rose from the floor.
"Winky can-"
"Only I can touch this, Winky," Hermione whispered as she returned to her room. After a moment of consideration she opened her wardrobe and stuffed it into a drawer in the back. "That should keep it safe." She whispered.
"Winky will make sure only Mistress can open that drawer," said the elf, instinctively understanding the importance, and her fingers glowed as she pressed her palm against the drawer.
Hermione took a deep breath, and checked her reflection in her vanity mirror. She looked cool and composed, and older, somehow.
"Thank you Winky," she said earnestly as she headed for her father's study. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
Winky let out a gasping sob as Hermione disappeared in the green Floo flames.
Riddle Manor was a hub of noise and excitement. In the ballroom Hermione found nearly everyone connected to the Dark Lord. Some were dancing. Not the measured, pretty ballroom dancing Hermione was used to, but a fast paced step that Ma Griesly's people taught them. Others were singing ballads, while still more were clustered at conjured tables, their faces flushed and shining.
The Dark Lord sat on his podium, and opened his arms to Hermione. "My dear," he said, rising to embrace her and place a chaste kiss on her cheek. "I understand that you had an easy go of it today," he laughed as her brows knitted together. "I'm only teasing, Hermione. Really."
"I would have been of more use to you with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," she said.
He smiled, "Well, hindsight tells us much. Put it out of your mind, you will have plenty of time for action."
She forced herself to smile, and he laughed.
"Your eagerness is refreshing." His long fingers stroked over her cheek, and then gripped her chin. "I will make use of it, I promise."
For a moment he stared deeply into her eyes, and she felt her cheeks warm. Confusion swirled in her mind, but she opened her mouth anyway, "Thank you, my lord."
He released her. "I am still proud of you," he said, his voice warm. "You obeyed me today, even though the assignment proved boring. That's a rare skill."
"I didn't want to disappoint you," she heard herself say. It was lie, her father was the one she didn't want to disappoint, but she knew she had said the right thing when his eyes lit up.
"Indeed? Well, I appreciate it, my little lioness. I truly do." He patted her shoulder, "Enjoy yourself. I have a few things to discuss with our new Minister."
Hermione looked around, and saw that Pius Thicknesse had just entered with a group of people, her father included. She smiled and waved, feeling grateful that she had an excuse to move away. Had she imagined it, or was The Dark Lord's gaze less paternal than usual? She shook her head. No, it couldn't be. It was only a trick of her mind because she was so tired.
She found her father, and escorted him to a table, where she found drinks and food waiting for them. Terence joined them a short while later, freshly showered and smelling of aftershave. Her father seemed to like Terence, and they shared insights about Slytherin House.
Wine made her feel warm, and eventually Terence and Ma Griesly's people convinced her to join in the dancing.
"Are you coming, Papa?" She asked.
Lucius brandished his snake head cane. "Not tonight, sweetheart. Some other time. Enjoy yourself!"
To her surprise, she did. She tripped over herself, but the dance involved slinging your arms over the shoulders of those on either side of you. She found herself between Terence, and Jack, one of Ma Griesly's favorites. From time to time she felt eyes on her, and looked up to find the Dark Lord staring at her. Each time she smiled warmly back, as if someone more confident wore her face.
She danced until she was out of breath, and laughed as she disentangled herself from the others. Her Uncle Severus had joined her father, and he arched a brow as she fell into the chair between them.
"Making a spectacle of yourself, I see?"
She laughed, and kissed his cheek, "Hello to you too, Uncle." She reached for a glass of water and downed it. "It's hot in here!"
"Wine will do that to you," said her father, amused.
She felt a familiar tingling, and looked up as Bellatrix entered the room. The dark witch beamed back at her, and made her way to the Dark Lord. She had not stopped to clean up, and still bore the marks of battle.
Like Hermione, Bellatrix was greeted warmly and dismissed quickly. She would her way through the tables, and dragged a chair over to Hermione. "Lucius, Severus," she said, joining the table.
Lucius glanced coolly at Bellatrix, "Don't you think you're making your intentions a bit obvious?" He asked in a low voice.
Bellatrix summoned a glass of pinot noir and smirked. "Can't a tutor sit with her student? She downed the whole glass, "For that matter, is it so strange to sit with my dearest friends?" She switched her attention to Hermione, "I have something to show you. In private."
Across the table, her father choked on his water. "Lestrange," he growled, his eyes shining with indignation.
"I didn't mean that!" Bellatrix said quickly, and then, when Lucius looked calmer added, "Though I wouldn't be disagreeable-"
"Bella," Hermione chided as her father let out an irritable growl. Privately, she added, He's still healing. Please don't tease him.
"But it's fun." Bellatrix looked at her, then at Lucius and sighed, "Oh alright. I intend for us to be fully clothed, Lucius, does that help?"
Lucius shook his head, "Chaperoned visits only, from now on-"
Bellatrix let out a snort, "Like you could stop us-"
"Hermione is of age," interjected Severus. He massaged his temples. "A Century ago she would have had ten marriage proposals. Two centuries ago she would have had a gaggle of children."
"We can arrange that," said Bellatrix at the same time Lucius said, "Enough!" The two stared at each other, Bellatrix grinning, Lucius glaring, until Hermione sighed and stood up.
"I want to discuss some tactics I saw today anyway Papa. I promise I won't be long. I'm starting to get tired." It was a lie, but she saw his posture soften.
"I'll be going home soon as well. You're not too tired to apparate?"
Hermione shook her head.
She bid goodnight to her father and uncle Severus, and then she and Bellatrix said goodbye to the dark lord.
"To the hunting lodge?" Hermione asked. She felt a moment of surprise as Bellatrix shook her head no.
"Side along apparation, My dove," she said mysteriously. "Close your eyes."
Hermione did, and felt the uncomfortable squeezing sensation press all around her. For a moment she thought she would discard the contents of her stomach all over the floor, but Bellatrix's arms were around her, her foresty scent comforting.
"Ok, open your eyes."
Hermione did. They were in a dark front hall, with a staircase against one wall and a corridor down the other. The floor and the walls were empty, but the place was luxurious. The wooden floor gleamed in the moonlight that shone through the window above the ornately carved door, and the wallpaper was lined in cream and green stripes. Looking closer, she saw curling vines up the green parts, swaying as if to a soft wind. Feathers ruffled in the cream parts. It was a magical home.
"Where are we?" Hermione whispered.
"The townhouse that was part of my mother's dowry. My father thought it too feminine, so my mother left it to me when she…" Bellatrix cleared her throat. "She called it Thistledown." For a moment she looked almost shy, "Do you like it?"
"Well, I haven't seen all of it," reminded Hermione, "But so far I do!"
Bellatrix took her through each room. There were seven storeys in all. They had entered on the first. There was a quaint living room, a decadent dining room, and a kitchen that was tiled all over in starry patterns. The back door led to a garden and a little gazebo. Then there was the basement, the second floor had a music room and a study. The third floor had a swimming pool and a gymnasium. The fourth was entirely full of guest bedrooms. The fifth had the master bedroom, a nursery, and another little study, but it was the sixth that was Hermione's favorite. It was a library, only half filled and full of potential. A door led to an astronomy deck, and Hermione stared at the cobbled streets below. "Where are we?"
"Technically, Edinburgh," said Bellatrix, watching Hermione's face. "Do you like it?"
"I love it!" Hermione said. The wind ruffled her curls, and she felt a slip of paper press against her palm. It was a folded certificate, and when she unfolded it her brows rose.
"This certifies that the marriage between Rodolphus Lestrange and Bellatrix Black is hereby and forever dissolved." She lowered the paper. "You're divorced?"
Bellatrix nodded. "I am." She huffed as Hermione threw her arms around her. "Not so tight, doveling, you'll suffocate me!"
Hermione laughed, and kissed her soundly. "This means you're mine."
"I've always been yours," corrected Bellatrix softly. "But I'd like to make it official."
Hermione was so happy that she didn't register what the velvet box was until it had been opened. Then she drew in a sharp breath.
Nestled on a bed of velvet was a golden band with a glittering diamond, and a cluster of three dainty sapphires on either side of it. Hermione felt her chest catch, and then her heart fluttered.
"Would you do me the honor of becoming the next lady Black?" Bellatrix asked. "Besides me, of course."
There was no other answer other than, "Oh, yes Bella! I will!"
The ring fit perfectly, and then Bellatrix kissed her again and again. "We'll be so happy." She said. "You mustn't wear it in public until I get the Dark Lord's permission. He won't be happy that we did this without him. But-" Her brown eyes shone in the moonlight, "I wanted something that was just ours."
Hermione nodded, and kissed her again. "Will we live here?"
"If you'd like. We can install a doggy door for Turnip, and build a stable for Vercingetorix. And I thought I'd get a little cat. And we'll move in your elf, and you can hire a dozen wage seeking elves to help her if you'd like!" Bellatrix laughed, "I'll give them all vacation days and holiday pay if it suits you." Her arms were warm around Hermione's middle.
"Oh it does, Bella. It does."
"We'll spend all summer decorating it if you'd like. And then you'll have school, and I thought we could get married next summer."
Hermione smiled contentedly, "I always wanted an autumn wedding. October, maybe?"
"I've always loved October," said Bellatrix.
They stayed like that for a long time. Wrapped in each other's arms.
I'm still here! Let me know what you think!