On the day of the breakout, Hermione entered Azkaban prison, in the same manner, she'd always done - with her wand firmly in her grasp, Harry's cloak tightly wrapped around her, and an inescapable sense of doubt and dread peeking through the darkest (and unfortunately loudest) confines of her brain. Had she not been specifically trained to handle high-stress situations, and had she not been dealing with insurmountable danger since the tender age of 11, she likely would have been shaking under the comfy embrace of invisibility. What she was about to do was undeniably the riskiest, most illegal, and perhaps even stupidest, action of her career - nay, her entire life. But she was running out of options, and she knew the consequences would be a million times worse if whoever was behind this managed to bring Voldemort back, and she didn't want another war, and she didn't want her friends and family to suffer any more than they already had, and she wasn't sure if they could survive another conflict akin to what they had been lucky enough to live through in their teenage years, and she didn't want to lose any more friends, and the political consequences, and the press, and the economy, and -
And Bellatrix was the only person crazy enough to take her ideas seriously. And it felt good.
Too good, perhaps. Enough for Hermione to consider going through with an idea so treacherous she could practically feel Sirius turning in his grave with every step towards the dark woman's cell. The last couple of days had not been spent preparing for the breakout, nor mulling over the plan she and Bellatrix had devised. Rather, she'd occupied her time figuring out escape routes - not from Azkaban, but her situation with the witch. She wanted - no, needed - someone, anyone else, who she could rely on. Someone who knew of the situation of the Death Eaters, who wanted them gone as much as she did; preferably someone who wasn't a complete lunatic that she despised with every fiber of her being. The notion of taking on the mission by herself was alluring, of course. She knew she could work well on her own, and it would certainly see progress without the stress of being in close proximity to an unchained Lestrange. But there was no denying the other woman's skill, and exceptional knowledge on the matter.
"At the very least, I can use her as a shield," Hermione thought to herself as she, for what seemed like the millionth time, found herself in front of Bellatrix's cell. Completely out of alternatives. The image of the woman being hit with multiple spells at the same time lifted her spirits, if only for a second before a guard walked inside the cell and Hermione followed closely behind.
"Breakfast," the guard grumbled, dropping a rather unappetizing bowl in front of the chained Slytherin. There were shapes that resembled animal parts; rat tails, chicken beaks, and one that looked like one of the slugs Ron had thrown up during their second year. Other than that, the greenish gruel lacked any sort of shape or consistency. The mere sight of it had Hermione struggling not to gag, she couldn't even bring herself to imagine being forced to stomach it. "No playin' around this time, yer eatin' the lot."
"Sebastian, please, you know me better than that. I've never been one to play with my… food" Replied Bellatrix, in a shockingly stronger and firm tone. Completely unlike the weak, defeated voice she had used during Hermione's other visits. Her posture was different, too. While every other time she'd been laying down and unable to lift her head, this time she was sitting upright with her back to the wall. All of her extremities were chained to the wall, along with a collar along her slender neck, but it still allowed her to move around enough to grab her bowl. "Would you look at that, actual meat this time! You spoil me. Is this a reward for my good behavior?"
"Jus' eat the fucking food, Lestrange."
"So it's not for my exemplary conduct. Oh! I know! It's my birthday, isn't it? Is this how you're celebrating it? You shouldn't have-"
"Lestrange-"
"LESTRANGE," Bellatrix replied in a high-pitched, mocking tone. "Have you got anything special planned for today? I'm sure that whore of a Head Warden would just love-"
A thunderous slap echoed throughout the room, strong enough to violently twist Bellatrix's head to the side. Bellatrix chuckled, despite quite obviously being in pain, and spit some of the blood that had trickled from her split lip onto the floor. "Ah, I forgot. Sensitive subject. What a loyal little lackey you are."
"You're one to talk," mocked Sebastian as he raised his palm again and Hermione braced herself for the next slap, though it never came. Instead, the warden simply laughed and turned to head back outside. "I'll be sure to tell others about yer good mood today. They'll be sure to 'ave a riot beatin' it outta ye."
"Only a beating? My my, you are getting sloppy. Not that I'm complaining. If you need help with your torture methods, I'd be happy to tutor you," quipped Bellatrix to the guard's retreating form. After the door was locked shut behind him, Hermione took the customary time she always waited before revealing herself to study the witch in front of her. Without the warden around, it wasn't long for Bellatrix's body to slump back into the chains, abandoning the previously-seen guarded and defiant persona. Seemingly lost in thought, the Dark Witch twirled her dirty finger around the gruel (it was only then that Hermione noticed that the prisoners weren't given any eating utensils), and inspected the food with a slight grimace.
"Is this what you're like when you're on your own?" Hermione wondered, feeling rather uncomfortable and guilty that she was studying the witch without her knowing about it. "Funny, Azkaban is the only place I've ever seen you act sane," her thoughts continued, as Hermione watched with rapt attention as Bellatrix flung a rat's tail from her food and towards the nearest wall, laughing as the meat stuck to the surface and slowly started its way towards the floor. "Well… as sane as you can be, I suppose. Then again, after so many years in Azkaban I'm sure I would also try to do anything to entertain myself."
As truly fascinating as gawking at Bellatrix as though she was a science experiment was, she knew they were short on time. And any deviations to the plan could turn disastrous. "Bellatrix," Hermione called out - softly - alerting the other woman of her presence.
"Ah, Granger, right on time!" Bellatrix said, seemingly unfazed, as though they weren't about to embark on a mission that would likely end with both of them six feet underground. "A second more and I would've eaten some of this and you would've had to drag my body around the entire prison."
Right, Bellatrix had explained that too. Whatever potion it was that mellowed her out always came in the food, not that she wouldn't be force-fed the liquid later on anyways - at least when she refused to eat what little nourishment was provided to her. It was the reason why they'd agreed for Hermione to come so early; escaping with an unconscious, vegetative Bellatrix was an extra risk Hermione didn't want to take no, matter how enjoyable the woman was when she was quiet.
After Hermione severed the chains (she wasn't able to break the actual shackles that held onto Bellatrix's skin, and she worried that any attempts would result in an accidental amputation), Bellatrix moved to stand. Shakily, with motions that disturbingly resembled the toddlers in the Weasley family who were just starting to walk. Hermione, as cautious as she could be, held her hand out for Bellatrix to hold on to, but the woman shook her away dismissively.
"I can do it myself, mudblood. I'm not a child," snarked Bellatrix as she unsuccessfully attempted to hold back a wince, still halfway through standing up.
"Clearly," muttered an unimpressed Hermione. She reached out her hand, holding it in front of Bellatrix for her to grasp it, but Bellatrix decided to continue on her own nonetheless. And, to her credit, while it certainly took away precious time that they didn't have to spare, she was able to eventually stand on her own.
"Bring your hand close to my face again, and I'll bite it off," Bellatrix managed to breathe out, "I assume you brought the potion."
Not particularly interested in speaking to the woman more than she was obligated to, Hermione simply handed the now barely-standing witch the flask with a rather off-putting, dark blue liquid sizzling on the inside.
"And you followed the instructions?" Asked Bellatrix, eying the potion with a hint of distrust.
"Yes, Lestrange."
"You didn't skip any steps?"
"No-"
"And you placed it under direct sunlight for five hours?"
"Merlin's sake, Bellatrix. Yes! Would you drink the damn thing so I don't have to carry you out of here myself?" Exclaimed Hermione, though it didn't change Bellatrix's hesitance. "And the instructions read to leave it under sunlight for four hours, not five."
Seemingly convinced, Bellatrix finally moved her weak, quivering fingers and slowly opened the bottle. Whispering a "good girl," that was almost missed by Hermione before she downed the contents in a single gulp. "You could've done something for the taste, you know," she added with a grimace. "Cissy added a teaspoon of honey when she made these for me after the first breakout."
"Sorry," said Hermione without much conviction, far more interested in watching Bellatrix regain her strength as the potion began to work its magic. It wasn't meant to last for long, she'd been warned. The effects of Azkaban and prolonged exposure to the guard's cruelty couldn't be fixed with a simple, albeit powerful, potion. It would take time and care to bring her back to her normal, pre-Azkaban condition. At least physically - Hermione didn't much care about Bellatrix's mental health to worry about helping her in that regard. However, the potion was strong enough to allow the woman to stand by herself and, more importantly, run, at least for a handful of hours. And, fortunately, that was all they needed for the time being.
"So now do we wait? Or do you call a guard over? Or -" the younger woman started. Bellatrix, without skipping a beat, tapped the food bowl against the door. It wasn't long before Hermione heard the keys jangling as the man she'd seen before opened the door for Bellatrix, and she quickly covered her head back up with Harry's invisibility cloak. The door opened slowly, adding an extra layer of anticipation that only served to accelerate Hermione's already rapidly beating heart.
"Finished already? Gobbled it down like the mongrel ye are," that was the guard. Who took less than a second to notice Bellatrix was no longer chained and standing before he pointed his wand at her. "What the fu-"
"NOW!" Bellatrix ordered at the same moment that Hermione, without missing a beat, pointed her own wand at the guard and rendered him unconscious with a simple, non-verbal spell. The younger woman moved swiftly, closing the door as quietly as possible before any guards happened to look their way and raised any alarms. Bellatrix, without skipping a beat, violently yanked the guard's hair and stared at the sizable chunk of brown strands in her closed fist.
"Here, take this. I'll work on the guard," said Hermione, handing Bellatrix a second flask and with a disapproving gaze as the Slytherin delivered swift kicks to the unconscious man's form. "Now, please. Unless you fancy spending another night in Azkaban…"
Bellatrix gulped down the contents of the potion, now with the guard's hair inside, and Hermione silently poured a second potion down the warden's throat. Noting, with frustration, that the victim's body refused to cooperate and swallow the liquid.
"What is it?" Asked Bellatrix, annoyed and uncomfortable, though Hermione wasn't sure if it was because of her struggle with the guard or because the older woman was feeling her features warping into a perfect replica of the guard's appearance. Before Hermione was able to explain the situation, Bellatrix reached over to take the guard's wand and pointed it at his throat, muttering an incantation before Hermione was finally able to pour the polyjuice potion into his body. "Do they not teach Aurors these spells anymore? What do you do with the people you capture?"
"We're above such things as feeding people against their will, even when they do deserve it," Hermione muttered, her nimble fingers already working on divesting the warden of this uniform as his features shifted.
"No wonder you're so bloody incompetent," sneered the Slytherin with the prison garb over her arm. It hadn't taken her long to disrobe, especially with Azkaban providing no actual undergarments for their prisoners.
"Caught you, didn't we?"
"And yet you had to crawl back to me for help. Funny, isn't it?"
Hermione, who wasn't laughing, chose to ignore Bellatrix's words for the time being (and only partly because she couldn't think of anything witty to say). She had finished undressing the guard and had been in the process of sliding the prison uniform over the man's polyjuiced body when something caught her eye. A scar, right over Bellatrix's left breast, written in ancient ruins that Hermione didn't recognize. Seeing as how the only wounds that had healed themselves were those done by Voldemort's hand or had been inflicted during a mission done for the Death Eater's cause, it meant it had to have been done by someone else. Whoever had managed to cause such a ghastly injury on Bellatrix was beyond her, though she couldn't imagine the perpetrator escaping from the witch's ire - at least not in one piece.
"Not to ruin your fun," Hermione couldn't help but commend Bellatrix on how casual she was with her enemy's observation of her body (albeit a polyjuiced version of it). She didn't sound embarrassed at all, and with a clear detachment from the situation. "But I'm not particularly eager on waiting until the other guards realize there's something wrong. Unless you find eye-raping me to be more important than our task, in which case I'd be more than happy to leave you be and find the way out on my own."
Hermione finished dressing the guard, and it was Bellatrix's turn to credit Hermione when she turned back to face her; no blush or trace of awkwardness in her features despite her constant mockery. "What do the runes say?"
"'Toujours Pur'. It's the Black Family -"
"Motto, yes, I know," replied Hermione confidently, though now more curious than ever as to who'd caused the wound. "Hand me the guard's wand."
"No."
"Bellatrix," Hermione warned, pointing her wand at the witch. "I'm not letting you have a wand, weakened or not."
"Don't be stupid. The other guards will find out if they see me without a wand -"
"Expelliarmus!" Hermione cast, quietly to not attract the attention of any guard patrolling nearby, and the guard's wand flew out of Bellatrix's hand. "Anyone asks, you fell on your wand and broke it. But I'm not trusting you with anything."
To her surprise, Bellatrix didn't attempt to fight back. Nor did she criticize Hermione's orders. Simply opting to shrug and open the cell's door as Hermione trailed wordlessly (and with a goofy, successful grin) behind her.
Bellatrix, as Hermione soon discovered, was quite the gifted actress. She knew from her previous encounters with the potion (especially when she'd disguised herself as Bellatrix to break into her vault) that mimicking another person's entire demeanor was a task much easier said than done. It was an art of its own, one that required one to be fully and constantly aware of every single part of their body in order to perfectly emulate every quirk, detail, and characteristic of whoever they were disguised as. She'd found it nerve-wracking in her teenage years, and the sentiment had followed her to adulthood. And yet, to Bellatrix, it seemed like the most natural action in the world. Hermione found herself mesmerized as she observed with keen eyes how the other woman didn't merely copy the guard but inhabited him. Changing her normal proud gait with sloppy and brash stomps, even stopping to mock and jeer at some of the prisoners they walked past and managing to fool the nearby guards.
"It's working," Hermione thought, "It's bloody working!"
"Fraser!" Came the familiar, and unwelcome voice of the Head Warden, Yolanda Escudero. She walked up to Bellatrix, who was quick to turn and greet her with a head nod. Not the most respectful or professional of greetings, but not one Yolanda was surprised by - judging by her lack of a reaction. "You fed 93, right?"
"Aye," was everything Bellatrix said in the lowest voice she could muster and with a hint of a Scottish accent.
"And she ate it all?"
"Aye, the mongrel," Bellatrix spat out. And Hermione decided, in that very moment, that if there was such a thing as alternate universes, there had to be one in which Bellatrix had traded war for the theatrical stage. With her skills, she could imagine her dominating Shakespeare like no other.
"Good," Escudero noted with a slight grimace. "Finish with your rounds, then take her to the room. But keep it clean this time. If I see a repeat of last night's… performance, I might see it fit to revoke your rehabilitation privileges and take care of her myself."
There was an unnaturally long pause, and Hermione slowly removed her wand from its holster, prepared for an outburst or worse. Only, and again to Hermione's immense surprise, Bellatrix simply nodded and turned her back on the warden.
"I'm serious, Fraser!"
"Yes, ma'am," Bellatrix said, sounding as though the mere act of calling her "m'am" physically pained her.
Hermione's heart sank Bellatrix turned to face Escudero once more, slowly stalking towards the woman with a devilish smirk decorating the guard's features. "Lestrange, you idiot! What are you doing?"
"Don't worry," said Bellatrix, struggling with the Scottish accent, but not caring enough to fix it. "But… wouldn't you- ye like to join us? Such a shame, how you always seem to miss out on all the fun. What's the point of havin' 'er to play with, if you're not gonna be there to reap the rewards?"
"I've more pressing things to do than watch you play with our inmates, regardless of how much they do deserve it."
"Sure, sure, I'm sure you do. Head Warden, big responsibility…"
"Watch your tone Fraser, or I'll have you washing the-"
"She spoke to me today, you know? Bellatrix. She said she had a theory, of sorts, as to why you abhor- " Hermione had to bite her cheek to stop herself from pointing out the low chances of Sebastian using a word like "abhor", "- being in the same room Bellatrix is, or why you always send others to punish her for you, while you care so little about hurting others by your own hand."
Escudero moved her hand closer to her wand, "and what, pray tell, would that theory be?"
"Shut up, shut, up, shut up! We're gonna get caught!"
"She said you're afraid, that you're a coward. That you know she can feel your fear every time she looks up at you, all bloody and barely conscious. You're afraid because you like it. The thrill of having someone's life in your hands, especially when that person was responsible for so much of your pain. Bellatrix must've felt the same way with her victims. With your brother. You despise knowing that, despite your rank, despite your disgust towards her, deep down, you understand her. You're akin to her," Bellatrix took a deep breath and straightened herself, eying the other woman's wand with hunger. "She's a nutter, that one. I shut her up for sayin' such things, of course. But don't worry, I'll make sure the cunt pays handsomely for that mouth of hers."
And then came a loud wail from a nearby cell. Not uncommon in Azkaban as a whole, but certainly rare in the maximum security floors where most of the inmates were constantly drugged, or had long since lost any remaining will to produce even the smallest sounds. This scream, however, came as a special surprise - as all three women in the hall recognized it perfectly.
"Was that-"
"Lestrange," stated Escudero as Bellatrix asked "Rodolphus?" in an impossibly quiet tone. Before Hermione could blink, the two had gone off towards the man's cell. Hermione followed, wand at the ready, no longer caring about the sounds her footsteps made (Rodolphus' screams were enough to deafen any noise she made). Inside the cell, the trio found Rodolphus struggling with another guard. Relatively unscathed, save for a bloody nose, the man moved with energy Hermione never imagined an Azkaban inmate would be capable of.
"RUN! RUN!" Shouted the man madly, eyes set firmly on Bellatrix. "Why are you still here? GO!"
Escudero was quick to face Bellatrix and without skipping a beat, touched the tip of her wand to her neck. "What is he talking about, Fraser? Explain yourself!"
"I… I don't - I don't know!" Bellatrix blurted out, looking as lost and confused as the other parties in the room. Had Hermione not witnessed her superb acting skills, she would've believed her innocence.
There was a small gap in the invisibility cloak from which Hermione was able to stick the tip of her wand from, and she was quick to disarm both Yolanda as well as the other guard in the cell. "Move!" She screamed to Bellatrix before exiting the cell, Rodolphus laughing behind them.
"Why didn't you kill them?!"
"Shut it," growled Hermione, not daring to admit she came close to agreeing with Bellatrix. Killing people, especially those who were on her side, was something she knew she couldn't bring herself to do regardless of the situation. But it was abundantly clear, by the blasts of light following them and blaring sirens, that simply disarming them had only given them a couple of seconds to run, but nothing more.
They'd reached a dead end, and a purple light hit the ground next to Hermione, far too close to comfort, so she quickly moved to hide behind a nearby pillar. Expecting Bellatrix to follow just as they'd agreed she would when planning the escape. Only, she didn't. Matter of fact, nothing did. She could hear the ongoing fight, but no spells were coming past the pillar, or no indication that anything behind her had been hit.
"The wall, now!" Ordered Bellatrix. Reluctantly, Hermione stuck her head out to see where she was, only to find her in the center of the hallway. Nothing to hide behind, yet unaffected by the incoming spells thanks to the protective spell she'd cast in front of them using a wand she recognized as Yolanda's. The shield was exceptionally strong, enough to withhold the power of all the guards combined. Though the drops of sweat running down the woman's forehead told her it was taking a lot to hold it, and it was likely to give away soon.
Hermione swiftly moved to hand Bellatrix a green herb, before swallowing herself and casting "bombarda maxima!" against the prison's stone wall. It crumbled under the power of her spell, allowing Hermione to peer down at the dark, pointy rocks and unforgiving sea awaiting their arrival. They'd chosen a day in which the waves were predicted to be stronger than usual, submerging most of the rocks on the island enough that she knew their fall would be cushioned by the water. But the appearance of what little land remained uncovered, and the ghastly image of her body speared by one of the peaks if she wasn't careful enough, was enough to tighten things in her stomach.
Still, despite her fear, she knew time was not of the essence, and she moved to stand next to the hole as she waited for Bellatrix to jump, "you first!" she barked. Bellatrix reacted immediately and broke the enchantment to jump out of the prison, Hermione in toe as curses scraped their bodies.
The freezing water pierced her skin with cruel precision, rendering her limbs useless as the current buried her limp body closer to the rocks. She struggled to keep her hands tightly around the invisibility cloak and her wand, but the water was adamant on her violent end, and she was forced to let go of the latter. Without her body absorbing the effects of gillyweed, her limited air supply was running out, and her vision wasn't clear enough to distinguish the dark form swimming towards her with ease.
"Granger?" came Bellatrix's voice, which she was able to hear inside her head. With her life passing before her eyes and the sweet allure of death not far behind, maintaining her mental shields had been the least of Hermione's worries. And Bellatrix had used the opportunity to allow for communication between the two. "What happened?"
There was a painful itching sensation on Hermione's neck, and she moved her hands to scratch it when her fingers met with the newly-grown gills and the sudden relief in her lungs as she was able to breathe again. Her fingers grew webbing between them, and her vision adjusted to the underwater setting. Finally allowing her to take in the figure swimming towards her; Bellatrix, no longer under the effects of polyjuice potion and still dressed in the guard's uniform. She'd also grown gills, and had both her wand as well as Yolanda's in her grasp.
"Give me the wands," thought Hermione, knowing Bellatrix was listening to her thoughts. Bellatrix handed it to her with compliance Hermione hadn't expected from her, but she didn't comment on it."Let's go, they'll search the water soon."
They managed to reach a small cave after only an hour of swimming, despite the strong currents and other underwater threats that came between them and freedom. Hermione had been careful to choose a location that could be easily hidden from prying eyes with magic, while still being accessible from the water and far enough from Azkaban that the anti-apparition wards would affect them. The beauty of the place had not been part of the plan, but it had been a welcomed addition. The cave was dark, but when lit up by the torches Hermione had left there before traveling to Azkaban the ripples of water connecting it to the sea shone throughout the rocky walls. Creating a rather warm and cozy environment. Bellatrix was first to enter the cave, panting as the herb wore off and her temporary fish-like features disappeared from her body.
"We made it," she breathed out, taking in the cave's interior and letting out a gleeful giggle. "We made it! I'm alive!"
Bellatrix's joy was short-lived. A heavy weight collided against her body, sending her tumbling to the ground as Hermione straddled her, careful she wouldn't be able to escape with her wand pressed against her cheek and a murderous look in her eyes.
"What are you playing at, Lestrange?" growled Hermione.
"Get off of me!"
"No! What are you playing at? I told you not to use a wand!"
"We would've died if I hadn't!"
"That's not the point!" She barked, moving her free hand to wrap against Bellatrix's neck and she squeezed, hard. "Let me make one thing clear: you may not be in Azkaban, but you are not free. You dare lie to me, or ignore my orders again, and you'll be on a boat back to your cozy cell before you can get a word out. We are not friends, we are not partners. Don't you dare think I'll show you mercy. I'm in charge! Understood?"
Bellatrix's lips were starting to become purple from the pressure on her neck, and Hermione only lessened it enough to let her breathe. Bellatrix gave out a small "mhm" - her throat was still in recovery and not able to form full sentences.
"How did Rodolphus know?"
"I- I don't know," facing Hermione's anger, and feeling her hand tighten a bit on her throat, Bellatrix stumbled to answer. "I didn't tell anyone about our plan - how could I?"
"I don't believe you."
"Look into my mind if you must-"
The memory of being inside the madwoman's mind was quick to end any positive feelings toward that plan. "You're good enough to control what you show me, I still don't buy it."
"Then get a Pensieve and I'll show you my memories. Every single day in Azkaban, hell, I'll show you every interaction I had with my husband-" Hermione was faced with a rather nasty mental image of Bellatrix and Rodolphus on their wedding night, and she suddenly found herself wondering if there was a wizarding alternative for bleach that she could pour on her brain, "- since we met. But I'm telling you; I don't know how he knows. I don't know who else knows. I've been as clueless as you are since everything began. And I don't know how to fix it but I've been as desperate… no, more desperate than anyone involved in this case," Bellatrix's eyes glimmered in the soft light of the cave, and the window of tears forming before her pupils gave away to something Hermione never thought she would find in the witch: raw and vulnerable honesty. "It's been hard for you, I know. But you can leave the case unscathed, and have someone else deal with it. You never had to worry about losing what little you had left while shackled and unable to stop it! So, by all means, do what you please with me and I will follow - to the depths of hell if I must - if it means catching the bastard that's done this. Even if said bastard is my husband, sister, or anyone I've ever shown a hint of love for."
Hermione pondered on this for a moment and let her hand fall from Bellatrix's neck. "I'll look through your memories, see if there's anything useful. And I'll be placing a lock on your magic; you won't be able to do as much as lift a finger without me knowing so."
"Fine," replied Bellatrix solemnly. Only then did Hermione stand up and mustering what little kindness she felt towards Bellatrix, extended her hand to help her up. A gesture the darker witch ignored and stood on her own. Her hand carefully moved to touch where Hermione had left bruises on her neck, and she smiled faintly. "I was afraid for a second there, mudblood, didn't think you had it in you."
"I'll do it again if you keep calling me that."
"What, mudblood?"
"Muggle-born, Lestrange. Muggle-born," Bellatrix could practically hear Hermione's teeth grating together as she spoke.
"Aw, does mudblood offend you?" She was eager to mock her again, but one look at Hermione's wand was enough to make her reconsider. "Alright, muggle-born. Happy?"
Basking in her victory over Bellatrix, Hermione took a step closer to the witch and took her hand into her firm grasp. "Very," she said, and disappeared from the cave.
Yeah, it'll be a while for them to start being mushy towards each other. But, hey, at least they've escaped!
Happy pride! And what better way to celebrate than by finishing the chapter that's been rotting in my notes for almost a year.
Yes, I know I was long for an unholy amount of time, and I apologize. It was a crazy year for me (in a good way), but I've been meaning to write more and truly plan on finishing this story.
I wanted to thank everyone who's stuck with me even during my hiatus. The fact that there were still people reading, reviewing, and liking my story even though there was no indication that I would be coming back (again, sorry) is why I wanted to keep writing in the first place. So... yes! Hope you enjoyed and continue this journey (yes I'm corny) with me!
