Warning, there's violence in this chapter.
XX
The NEWT-level Transfiguration class buzzed with anticipation. It was the last class before Christmas break. The next day they would all return home and bask in a break from the tedious study and practical lessons.
"Remember," Professor McGonagall advised as they all packed up, "I want all seventh year students who are of age to practice ten spells a day over the break. All sixth year students should write two paragraphs per spell that I've assigned-"
Hermione slid her notes into her backpack and grinned in anticipation. Soon she would be teaching Coram how to celebrate the Holidays according to Malfoy tradition. They would find a tree, decorate the manor, and make hot cocoa with the elves.
"Planning your next murder, Malfoy?" Asked a Hufflepuff sixth year. She and her friend snickered as Hermione's grin vanished.
Cheeks pink, she stuffed her book into her bag and stood.
"Miss Malfoy!" Professor McGonagall called.
Cursing inwardly, Hermione turned.
For once, Professor McGonagall did not wear the calculating look she often sported around Hermione these days. In a mild tone, she said, "Will you please stay after. I'd like to discuss something."
There were a few snickers, but the classroom emptied quickly. The students had mostly lost interest in torturing Hermione.
When the last student had escaped through the door, McGonagall silently locked it.
"I hope you don't mind meeting in here," she said, taking a seat behind her desk. "My office seems to have eavesdropping charms all over it."
"They didn't charm the classroom?" Hermione asked in surprise.
McGonagall shook her head, "It appears not." She cleared her throat. "I wanted to apologize for my behavior towards you this term. I've given it a lot of thought, and Professor Dumbledore left me a letter in the event of his death-"
At the mention of Dumbledore, Hermione tensed.
"I wanted to let you know that I believe you." McGonagall's stern gaze held a glimmer of something much softer than Hermione had ever seen in them. "I believe you about your role in… in his death." Her gaze seemed to grow misty, and she cleared her throat again. "Forgive me, but I wanted to let you know before you returned home for the holidays."
Hermione felt her shoulders ease. "Thank you professor," she said softly. "That means a lot."
"And for what it's worth," McGonagall continued, "I'm glad you're on our side."
Warmth spread through Hermione's chest. She had not really considered herself to be on any side but her parent's and Bellatrix's. Still, it felt good to be a part of something, even if just for a moment.
"Thanks, professor," she said quietly.
"Yes, well." McGonagall straightened. "I hope you have a great holiday, Miss Malfoy."
Hermione smiled, "You too."
The rest of the afternoon went well. Everyone ignored her except for Coram, who forced her into three rounds of Wizard's Chess.
"Lucius will win if I don't practice!" He groaned.
Hermione felt a phantom sensation wash over her, and reached out to grip the edge of the table.
"Hermione?" Coram's brow furrowed. "Are you ok?"
Hermione felt lightheaded, but ignored it. "I'm fine," she said, offering him a weak smile. "Whose turn is it?"
XX
Hermione had felt a prickle of unease all evening. She tried to reach out to Bellatrix several times, but each time she ran into a wall of occlumency shields.
She lay in her bed in Gryffindor Tower with her charms textbook open and turned to a passage on temperature charms. All evening little ripples of phantom pain had washed over her. Bellatrix was trying very hard to keep Hermione from feeling anything, and it only made Hermione worry harder.
Winky had disappeared to Thistledown for a few hours, and had returned in order to fetch a hot chocolate and take Turnip for a walk.
Lavender and Parvati had created a barrier between their beds and Hermione's by hanging blankets down the middle of the dormitory. Hermione didn't mind. She had NEWTs to study for.
There was a jingle, and Turnip climbed upon the bed and sniffed at her book.
"No," she said, wrapping an arm around his chest she pulled him back and kissed the top of his fuzzy head. He rewarded her with a slobbery kiss, and she let out a surprised giggle.
From the other side of the blanket wall, the soft sounds of Lavender's radio played. It signalled that the other girls were going to sleep, and Hermione quickly cast a charm to prevent her noise from disturbing the other girls.
Hermione had just resigned herself to practicing the full chapter's worth of spells when her vision clouded. It was as if someone had thrown a blanket over her, and for a moment she struggled to pluck the material from her eyes.
In front of her, the Dark Lord tutted and withdrew his wand. "Potter, Bella. I must say that of everyone, your betrayal hurts the most."
Hermione felt her blood turn to ice. This couldn't be real, could it? Faintly, she called out to Bellatrix.
But there was no response. It was as if a veil hung between her and the dark witch. She could see and hear what Bellatrix heard, but she could not feel the other witch. With every ounce of strength, Hermione struggled to push through the barrier.
Another voice, harsher than the Dark Lord's, said, "Should I take her to the cellar, my lord?"
The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed, and Hermione's heart skipped a beat. "No. I have no use for traitor's. Take her away. I don't want to see her again."
Why wasn't Bellatrix speaking? Why didn't she protest? Hermione closed her eyes and pushed.
Pain unlike anything she had ever experienced washed over Hermione. It clawed through her thoughts and raked over and over at her skin. For a moment she became caught up in it, swirling and writhing in unbelievable agony.
Then, she realized Bellatrix was being transported.
She had to get Bellatrix to come to her senses. The older witch's mind was whirling so quickly that only fragments of thoughts slipped past Hermione.
Bella, she crooned. Bella, come back to me.
No answer. Bellatrix's eyes were open, and Hermione saw glimpses of things. A tree, a back door. A kitchen. Dimly she realized that Bellatrix was at the hunting lodge. I'm coming Bella, she promised.
Surfacing from Bellatrix's mind felt like she had narrowly escaped drowning. Her skin tingled, but did not hurt, her thoughts raced but were whole. In a strangled voice she cried out, "Winky!"
The elf appeared at once, her face fearful. "Mistress called?"
Hermione stood, and quickly stepped into her shoes. "Can you take me to the Lestrange Hunting Lodge?"
Winky nodded.
Hermione's face hardened. "I need you to take me there, and then I need you to find Mother and Papa and take them to Thistledown."
Winky wrung the edge of her tunic between her hands, "Shouldn't Winky stay with Mistress?"
Hermione shook her head, "No, you should find my parents. I can't risk leaving them at the Manor. You need to take them to Thistledown and keep them there until I come. Do you understand?"
Slowly, Winky nodded.
"Okay," Hermione gripped her wand tightly and blew out a breath. Then she held out her hand. "Take me there."
XX
The full moon rose above the hunting lodge like an eerie beacon. Cold wind cut across Hermione's cheeks and penetrated the thin material of her nightgown. Still, she prowled the edge of the lodge, looking for any entrance. The doors were locked, and charmed against alohomora. Most of the windows did not open, and the ones that did sparked when she touched them.
Just as she was about to throw a rock through one of the windows, she found an opening. It was a dog door carved into a side door. Stowing her wand in her pocket, Hermione transformed into her animagus form.
The noise hit her first as she shoved her nose through the flap. A high keening that came from the inner rooms. Hermione opted to stay in her fox form and padded softly through the dark corridors. Even with her heightened vision it was difficult to see.
The smell of blood and urine scorched her nose. The liquids were smeared across the floor, as if someone had been dragged. Hermione's stomach twisted as she avoided the puddles.
The keening grew louder, and Hermione jerked as a loud voice shouted:
"Shut up or get out!"
Rabastan's broken voice replied, "You said you wouldn't hurt her… you said…oh Bells, I'm so sorry."
There was the sound of a crash, and light filled the corridor. Hermione slunk against the wall to avoid being seen.
"Get the fuck out of here," Rodolphus snarled.
Rabastan crashed into the corridor as if he had been thrown. His eyes were red and shining with tears, his cheeks puffy from crying. He let out another high pitched whine and dissolved into the loud keening Hermione had followed.
Hermione's ears flattened against her skull. Once she realized that Rabastan was too far gone to notice her she snuck to the door and looked through-
-and stared, horrified, at the scene in front of her.
Rodolphus sat at a low work table, but it was what was behind him that made Hermione's heart speed up.
Bellatrix hung from invisible chains against the far wall. Her wrists and arms sported black bruises that dotted most of the pale skin. Her face was a mess of bruises, her hair sticky and shining from what Hermione guessed was blood. Bellatrix's nose had been broken.
Hermione's eyes slid lower and she felt her stomach churn. Bellatrix's robes had been ripped open to the waist. Long cuts covered almost every inch of visible skin, as if someone had run a knife from her collarbone to her navel. One gash on her side was so deep that white bone was visible.
"Let's get back to it, shall we?" Cooed Rodolphus. He laughed, and held his wand to Bellatrix's leg. The skin parted, and blood poured out. Bellatrix didn't flinch.
Without thinking, Hermione transformed and pulled her wand free from her sleeve. She cast the first spell that came to her mind, and felt the rush of magic that powered her "expelliarmus!."
Rodolphus barely caught his wand before it jerked from his grasp, and he let out a roar as he spun on her.
Hermione sent a bone-breaking curse at him, and hissed as a slicing curse marred her cheek. She was too slow with another bone-breaker, and she narrowly avoided a curse that sizzled and set the wall behind her aflame.
"How touching," Rodolphus grinned, his rotting teeth on full display. "I won't ask how you got here, little Malfoy," he sent another curse that she blocked, and dodged her retaliating one, "but if you knew what I did about your dear old mentor, I think you'd let me take you on instead."
Hermione growled, and tried to blow up the table next to him.
"Now, now, little niece," Rodolphus jerked his wand, and Hermione flew up into the air. She let out a frustrated scream as she was shaken. "I'm trying to help you. You see, Trixie here has betrayed us all. She doesn't deserve your concern."
Hermione didn't respond. She shot every curse she could think of at the man. Her heart pounded in her ears, and she barely avoided several responding curses.
"Think about it, Hermione," he crooned. It was as if he was at a wine tasting instead of a fight. "The Dark Lord has sanctioned her death. She's nothing anymore. But I-" he chuckled, and shot a blasting curse that narrowly missed Hermione's leg. "-I could teach you new things. Things Trixie never imagined!"
Hermione crumpled the ceiling above him, and plaster, wood and stone crumbled down. He danced away. "You have good instincts, little girl. But you fight too cleanly. I could teach you how to revel in your work."
"Like you did with Bella?" She gritted. She cast a shield charm.
"Bella, is it?" He laughed cruelly. "You're still not trying hard enough," he spat as a zooming rock nearly hit him in the head. "Perhaps you don't have the right motivation!"
He shot a curse at Bellatrix, and a deep red blotch spread over her torso. Weakly, the bound witch moaned.
"Too far gone," Rodolphus tsked. "I hate it when they stop screaming. It takes the fun out of things."
Blood roared in Hermione's ears, and before she knew what she was doing a jet of acid green light shot from her wand.
"Oh ho!" He crowed as the acid light hit the wall behind him. "So you do have teeth. Maybe when Trixie's gone cold I'll show you what to do with them!"
Another green light shot from her wand. This time, it hit him squarely in the chest.
For a moment, it looked as if nothing had happened. His smile seemed to grow. Then, his knees buckled, and he fell to the ground.
Bellatrix and Hermione fell simultaneously, and groaned as her ribs slammed into the wooden floor below. She was up in a moment, however, wincing as she crouched over Bellatrix.
"Oh Bella," She said, taking in the older witch's condition. As carefully as she could, she used side apparition to take Bellatrix to Thistledown.
She emerged in their bedroom. With the aid of a featherweight charm she managed to get Bellatrix onto the bed, and then looked helplessly at the mess of wounds in front of her. She had never seen so much blood before. Her hands and robes were stained red, and the metallic smell permeated the room.
What was she going to do? Hermione had never excelled at healing spells. She cursed herself, and felt tears fill her eyes. Her breathing quickened. Was she really going to lose Bellatrix?
There was a scrabble of commotion in the corner, and Dust Mouse barked repeatedly.
"Not now," Hermione shouted.
Dust Mouse barked louder, and Hermione turned around, her wand poised to send a silencing charm. Then she stopped. There, the hay woven into the bars of Dust Mouse's cage spelled clearly "Finite."
For a moment, Hermione stared. But Dust Mouse barked again, and pointed to the hay.
With nothing else to lose, Hermione whispered, "Finite Incantatem." The spell shot from her wand and swirled around Dust Mouse. There was a blinding light, and the cage fell in pieces to the ground as- as a woman stepped forward from the light.
Hermione stared, open mouthed, as the woman hurried towards her. She was dressed in a St. Mungo's cloak and robes, and looked a bit disheveled.
"Dust Mouse?" Hermione asked.
The woman arched a brow at her, "I prefer Nancy," she rasped. "Your wand, we don't have much time."
Wordlessly, Hermione handed her wand over, and perched on the end of the bed as Nancy began to work a number of diagnostic spells.
"We can stop the bleeding," Nancy said hoarsely, "But that's pretty much it. She's in too fragile a condition to do much more." She gave Hermione a strange look, and pink entered her cheeks. "I can brew the potions downstairs. I need to stop the infection quickly, and we'll need to keep her warm."
Hermione hurried to the trunk at the foot of the opulent bed, and pulled the spare blankets from them. Piling them over Bellatrix's legs, she knelt on the mattress.
"Don't leave me, Bella," She whispered, taking one of the bruised hands in her own. Her eyes stung. "Please don't leave me."
Bellatrix remained unresponsive, her face deathly pale beneath the bruises.
"There's quite a bit of nerve damage too," Nancy said delicately. "Has she been exposed to the cruciatus curse?"
Hermione remembered the flash of the Dark Lord's face earlier in the evening and swallowed. "Probably."
"Then we need to be prepared for the worst," Nancy gritted her teeth as she worked on the deep wound in Bellatrix's side. Slowly, the skin knitted back together, leaving behind a livid red mark. "Her brain might have been damaged if it was a long exposure."
Hermione thought of Neville's parents, and felt a lump form in her throat.
After a few more minutes, Nancy said, "I think I've got the worst of it." She hesitated, then held out the wand.
Hermione gratefully took her wand back.
"I saw where she keeps the house safe," Nancy said briskly. "I'm going to need to go out and pick up some supplies. I've been to Edinburgh before, there's a great night market. It shouldn't take too long."
"How do I know you'll return?" Hermione asked. Tears had begun leaking down her face as the adrenaline drained from her body. "How do I know you won't lead the Aurors right to our door?"
Nancy's cheeks burned red. "Because-Because I seem to have developed Stockholm syndrome!" She snapped. "I keep my word! I'm not going to harm either of you, and I'm not going to let her-" She jerked her finger at Bellatrix, "die! I'm a nurse first. I'll honor my vows."
Hermione stared at the nurse for a long moment, and then jerked her head in a nod.
Nancy stomped to the door, then turned. "In the meantime, if you could wash the dried blood off and change her into something clean?"
Hermione nodded, "Yeah."
With one last look Nancy left, closing the door behind her.
There was a large bathroom that attached to their bedroom. Hermione found bowl and filled it with warm water. Then grabbed a washcloth and returned to the bed.
It was slow work. Hermione was scared of hurting Bellatrix, and every few minutes she had to return to the bathroom for fresh water.
The healed wounds that crisscrossed Bellatrix's torso were still livid, and it hurt Hermione to see them.
"He's going to pay for this, Bella," Hermione whispered. Her voice was shaky, but she felt hot resolve tighten her throat. "I should've made Rodolphus' death slower. He deserved it!" Gently she ran the washcloth over Bellatrix's wounds, careful not to scrub too hard. "But the Dark Lord will pay for this. I won't let him hurt you again."
She tried to dip into Bellatrix's mind, but each time she was unable to endure the tangled fragments of thoughts. She cried openly as she forced Bellatrix's battered body into a fresh hair was still sticky with dried blood, so Hermione decided against trying to tame her hair.
Careful not to put any weight on the other witch, Hermione tucked the blankets around Bellatrix and then crawled into bed beside her. Her wand was still warm in her hand, and she watched the ragged rise and fall of Bellatrix's chest.
Please come back to me, Hermione thought. She could not stop crying. Even with their occlumency shields in place, she had always been able to feel Bellatrix. She was a constant presence. Always there, always safe.
But now there was nothing, Hermione felt alone for the first time in her life. She pressed closer to the unconscious witch, desperate to reassure herself that the witch was still there.
"Bella, my love," she choked. Sniffing, she pressed her forehead to Bellatrix's cheek. "I'm still here. I'm still with you. Please, please, don't leave me."
The doorknob turned, and Hermione instinctively sat up and pointed her wand at the door. Not even the Dark Lord himself could have disarmed her.
A blonde head appeared, and Hermione lowered her wand.
"Mother." She breathed.
Narcissa was at her side in a moment, and Hermione was grateful to see her father follow.
"What happened?" He asked as her mother began running a series of charms.
In a series of choking sobs, Hermione told them. By the end, her father was on the bed beside her, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders. She leaned into him and tried to retain what was left of her composure.
"I can't- I can't feel her!" She gasped. "I think…"
Her mother grasped her chin, and raised it so that she could look into Hermione's eyes.
"My darling," she said gently. "I am so sorry for what happened tonight." She took a breath, and her eyes blazed. "But I am so proud of you. You did everything you could."
"I am worried about this healer though," said her father. Lucius kept his wand trained on the door. "What are we going to do about her?"
Narcissa's lips formed a thin line. "We're going to take whatever help we can get," she said resolutely. "And then, when we no longer need her, we're going to obliviate her."
"We'll need to place a fidelius charm too," her father stated. "There's no way to tell what the Dark Lord learned from Bellatrix. Until she recovers we need to play it safe." He gave his wife a wry grin. "I guess we've officially changed sides."
"We changed sides sixteen years ago," Narcissa reminded him. To Hermione, she said, "Sweetheart, lay down and try to get some rest. I'll wake you if anything happens."
Hermione could not argue. With her father's help she slid beneath the blankets, and laid her head back against Bellatrix's.
"Will Coram be safe?" Her father whispered.
"Of course, the Dark Lord needs Ma Griesly's support now more than ever. We'll have to have Hermione send her a letter in the morning explaining-"
Hermione remembered nothing after that. With Bellatrix's rasping breath in her ear she fell into a fitful sleep.