No one wanted seconds. As it was, everybody pushed their food around on their plates; Bellatrix wrinkled her nose at the scalloped potatoes on her dish. Hermione was trying very hard not to look at her throughout dinner. The atmosphere was so tense that Ofie and Auxley excused themselves from the table early, taking their plates into the kitchen to eat. Hermione watched them go with something like envy in her eyes. When she looked back to her plate, she noticed that the sticks of asparagus had been rearranged into the eyes of a smiley face, and the diced carrot into the mouth. Hermione smiled at this and looked up at Tonks to show her she understood the gesture—except Tonks wasn't looking at her. She seemed to be in a silent conversation with Bellatrix; the two witches sat across from each other, unblinking. Hermione's confusion grew. If it wasn't Tonks, and it wasn't Bellatrix, then who—Hermione felt it before she saw it. The corners of Narcissa's mouth turned marginally upward, the temperature of the room seemed to drop about ten degrees. Hermione dreaded the words before they reached her,

"Sorry to disappoint, dear, but I thought you could use some cheering up—turn that frown the other way around, I believe is what the mugs say," Narcissa's voice flowed like silk in her mind. Was it possible for silk to sound like ice? Because that's exactly what Hermione felt in her mind as Narcissa's voice floated through it. Hermione's eyes darted quickly around the table to see whether or not anyone noticed this silent exchange; everyone was lost in their own revelries. Andromeda and Ted were looking into each others' eyes, as if drawing strength from one another—they looked like newlyweds. Turning her attention back to her plate, Hermione pretended to be interested in separating the asparagus from the carrots as she cautiously replied,

"Its upside down."

"What is, dear?"

"The saying, its 'turn that frown upside down'"

"Ah, there's the little know-it-all my son is always complaining about." Hermione lifted her head up at this. A son? Hermione wondered who it could be. Narcissa was older, sure, but she didn't have the lines around her eyes to indicate that she had weathered all the terrible tantrums of a child. Before she could ask, Narcissa anticipated her question and answered,

"Draco. Draco Malfoy. He's in your year. Slytherin, obviously." Hermione couldn't help it, she groaned out loud. The thought of that little weasel vexed her to the point of barely suppressed rage. Her groan drew all eyes to her, and suddenly Hermione found herself at the receiving end of multiple inquisitive looks. Tonks spoke up first. She reached over from where she was sitting to the left of her and patted her arm on the table, asking,

"Alright, 'Mione?"

"Yeah I just..I remembered that Professor Black assigned the rising fifth years with loads of work over summer break…and I…haven't started yet.." This seemed to break the stifling atmosphere as Andromeda let out a guffaw and Narcissa somehow managed to roll her eyes and look posh doing so. Bellatrix looked at Hermione strangely and started to say something when Ted cut in,

"Hermione you've only just got home! Surely one day of rest wouldn't kill you?"

"She's probably going through withdrawal from not holding a book in twenty four hours," Tonks said with her teasing grin. This seemed to break the meditative state Andromeda had retreated into, and she joined in the banter,

"It can't be that—I saw her putting a book in her knapsack when I met her at the station." She smiled warmly at Hermione when she said this, so there could be no mistaking the loving tone layered beneath the light teasing. Bellatrix and Narcissa watched this interaction with matching expressions of wistfulness. Hermione felt, once again, that she was the center of attention—but it was the attention of one witch in particular which inspired her cheeks to color themselves the red of a setting sun. Bellatrix let her heavy gaze rest on Hermione for a moment.

In this moment, she felt the sharp tug in the pit of her stomach that she always felt whenever she apparated. She felt herself transported to another time, another place. This, all in a moment—and what a moment! It was the moment the frothy tips of a wave finally met its beloved shore. Then came the inevitable retreat; the wave was dragged back by an unseen force. The moment was over, and Bellatrix turned to whisper something to Narcissa as if she didn't just experience an odd, life changing experience in the space of a fraction of a second. Narcissa half-turned so her ear was still on the receiving end of Bellatrix's hurried whisper, but her eyes, the color of an Egyptian sea at dawn, were on Hermione.

On the other end of the dining room table, Ted gave Andromeda a look of sincere devotion. Apparently rousing herself for what she was about to say, she addressed her sisters.

"Right then," She squared her shoulders and straightened her back, unconsciously adopting the posture of her aristocratic youth, "Bellatrix, you've held out long enough. I think you ought to share what you mentioned earlier."

"Oh, about the force that threatens to tear us all apart?" the eldest Black asked.

"Yes," Andromeda's face betrayed her annoyance, "That."

"Well, I think that's a conversation to be had over tea."

"Oh for the love of—" Andromeda rose as she voiced her indignation, but Ted quickly

sprang up too and wrapped an arm around her, voicing his agreement.

"Tea sounds like a great idea! A night like this calls for Darjeeling, wouldn't you say,

dear?" Andromeda stared sharp, pointy daggers and her sister, but nodded to Ted. He made his way to the kitchen, sending a wink in the direction of Tonks and Hermione.

The ladies were left alone at the dinner table. Tonks warmed herself up to break the tension that once again fell over the group, but a brilliant stallion made out of wispy blue smoke burst into the dinning room and startled the witches. It trotted up to Tonks, nodding its large, long head and then turned and ran out the way it had came.

"Ah, shite!" Andromeda looked cross at Tonks outburst of foul language, and Tonks sheepishly continued, "Sorry, its just that that was my unit chief's patronus—auror training, mandatory and randomly scheduled to avoid planned attacks on the facilities," she explained, smiling apologetically at her mother. Andromeda frowned but did not argue as her daughter got up and excused herself from the table.

Tonks ruffled the top of Hermione's hair and kissed her mother on the cheek, but seemed unsure of how to say goodbye to her estranged aunts. For their part, they seemed equally unsure about how to proceed.

After a beat, Narcissa spoke in a surprisingly gentle tone, "Be careful." A mother's sentiment. Bellatrix nodded stiffly, then seemed to rethink this as a farewell to her only niece.

"Try not to die." To anyone else, Tonks would seem stoic and unaffected by these goodbyes. But to the trained eye of someone who loves her, it was clear that Tonks was secretly pleased at the attention. It just wasn't a very well-kept secret. Tonks took leave and headed to the kitchen to say goodbye to her father.

Suddenly finding herself the only non-Black sister in the room, Hermione made to leave as well. Before she could, however, Andromeda caught her eye and held her in her gaze. It seemed to say stay and please don't leave me alone with these strangers I once loved. And how was Hermione to say 'no' to a look that said so much? Instead, she got up and took the seat that Tonks had just vacated, placing her next to Andromeda and across from Bellatrix and Narcissa. Underneath the table, Andromeda reached over and grasped the Hermione's hand, squeezing it slightly before relaxing into a comfortable hold. Narcissa spoke first.

"Well Bellatrix," she said, leaning back in her seat, the epitome of erudite composure, "I would love to hear the reason why you dragged me away from my son right when he's finally come home."

"After twenty one years," Andromeda said quietly.

"Twenty two come May," Narcissa added, with a significant look at her second oldest sister.

"Well—" Bellatrix began, but stopped as Ted bustled in with the tea. Seeing that he was obviously intruding, he left the tray of mugs on the table and said,

"I'll be upstairs in my study—try not to have too much fun ladies!" The company in question certainly could not be accused of trying to have any amount of fun, save perhaps Bellatrix, but no one tried to correct the perpetually jovial man. Bellatrix picked up two mugs and handed one of them to Narcissa. She continued with where she left off.

"As I was beginning to say, I took a sabbatical some years ago—coincidentally, right before Tonks would have been my student. You have to believe me 'Dro, that wasn't intentional. I wouldn't…I meant I wasn't trying to avoid her" Bellatrix said pleadingly. Andromeda looked at her the same way she had all evening; guardedly. Bellatrix realized that she was running up against a brick wall, fortified by twenty two years of familial severance, so she continued with her story.

"It wasn't a vacation. The auror's office contacted me for a top secret mission. I was voluntarily put under the fidelius charm," a gasp sounded in the room; Hermione was surprised, after looking around the room, to realize that she herself was the source of it. "I cannot disclose all the details of this mission, obviously, but I think I've found a loophole." Bellatrix took a break from explaining to sip her tea. Hermione saw through the rouse; she was panting slightly, as if speaking even this vaguely literally put her in pain. It must be excruciating, Hermione thought, to speak against the magic that binds a secret to your soul.

"I'm going to tell you all a story. This is a very important story about a girl who looks for clues. There is a girl, let's call her, hmmm, Atthis," Hermione hoped Andromeda couldn't feel her palms sweating, "and this girl was good at finding things. So she looked for reasons that might explain why things were going bad. Why, oh I don't know, spells would backfire and kill their master, or why—" Bellatrix stopped suddenly and made to claw at her neck, as if being choked by a poltergeist. After some uncomfortable seconds ticked by, she regained her composure and started on again, "some apparently unexplainable things would happen. Now this Atthis, she was a clever girl; she noticed that these events correlated with outbursts of the…negative kind. She put together the strings that, when viewed up-close, made no obvious sense. But, when she took a step back, created a terrible tapestry of pain and hate; if a witch in Berlin, say, maliciously manipulated magic to some evil mean, a wizard in Westchester would find that his episky would, completely unintentionally, come out as a crucio. And these events were never linked before because of the distance, and because others had looked for a specific target to blame; a scapegoat. It was a far more horrifying realization to discover how we all might be complicit."

There was a long, contracted silence that settled across the room after Bellatrix's vague allegory. Andromeda squeezed Hermione's hand once, twice, and then stirred herself to speak.

"Would you say," she began, in a quiet, measured tone that unsettled Hermione, "that one such 'malicious' act might be, perhaps, expelling a family member from her childhood home and casting an imperio on all her friends and family to never speak to her again? Would that be something that qualifies, Professor?" Andromeda's voice steadily built up in intensity, until her last question felt like a verbal slap across the face. Hermione actually flinched, and it wasn't even directed at her. Bellatrix looked pale and exhausted, but she nodded anyway.

"Yes. Yes that was," she caught herself, "is a horrible, terrible thing I—I was young, Andromeda, I was so young and so afraid to lose you- I thought if I scared you, you might reconsider." Andromeda opened her mouth, no doubt to issue another verbally abusive rejoinder, but Bellatrix charged on, "But there is no excusing it. My actions had—have consequences, and I can't help but see the ripple in every unexplained case of magic turning on itself. The world is falling apart as we know it, and I know deep down in my heart that the first step to fixing it is to beg for your forgiveness."

"So why did it take you so long?" Andromeda asked, her voice betraying nothing. But Hermione felt the grip on her hand, which tightened whenever she was about to speak, loosen somewhat.

"I met someone who changed my life." All three of the other witches raised their eyebrows at this. Additionally, and conversely, Hermione felt her heart plummet down into her stomach.

"This someone," Bellatrix continued, "showed me that magic and love are necessarily connected; that the bonds that are formed between creatures with magic are never truly broken; only recycled." Hermione's heart cautiously began to rise—could it be? As if she read her mind, Bellatrix glanced in her direction and gave her a significant look. What that look was supposed to signify was beyond her. Narcissa, who had thus far been a silent observer to these proceedings, filled the silence that had fallen.

"So, if I understand correctly, the world is being torn apart by hate—our hate, everybody's hate—and we don't know it, or how to stop it? And to top it all off, you've gone and fallen in love?" Narcissa asked, incredulous.

"I think," Hermione spoke up finally, "what Bell—Professor Black is trying to say is that the magic plaguing our world is that of hate. And it is difficult to ascertain, but yes, magic tied to emotion is forever linked to that emotion, unless—and you can correct me if I'm wrong, professor—unless that emotion is necessarily an oppositional force. And what is more oppositional to hate but love?" Hermione finished, a bit flustered for speaking so passionately about emotion to such grounded, rational, intimidating women.

"You're not wrong, Hermione," Bellatrix said softly, in her low poetic voice, "you rarely are. And you can call me Bellatrix when we're not in Hogwarts." Hermione flushed red but nodded to show that she understood. This woman made intelligent speech go out the window.

"My takeaway is that you want me to forgive you for cutting me off from everyone I loved besides Ted and Tonks for almost twenty two years because the fate of the world depends on it," Andromeda said, "and that just isn't sitting well with me. It seems a bit convenient on your end." Bellatrix looked like a wounded puppy. Hermione pitied her, so she spoke up.

"Andromeda, if you don't mind, I'd like to play devil's advocate here—"

"Hold on, am I the devil in this scenario?" Bellatrix asked, somehow looking even more

like a kicked puppy.

"Go ahead, love," said Andromeda.

"What Bellatrix explained is easier for me to understand, not because I'm claiming to be the smartest witch in the room—"

"Good, because you're not" Narcissa interjected airily

"—but because I've seen this before," Hermione spared a glare at Narcissa and continued, "or rather, I've studied it in my muggle school. See, muggles have this conception of a particular decade in American history to be a decade of peace, love, and psychedelic drugs—the 1970s, in short. But in school, we learned that this was actually a counter culture, a reaction to all the terrible things going on in the country before and during that time. The country was involved in a war in a country called Vietnam, and it was televised—imagine, a picture like in The Daily Prophet, but unlike the The Daily Prophet, this picture has sound and sometimes color and is depicting the depravities of war on all sides, all day, everyday. For the first time, Americans were starting to see themselves as the bad guys. So this counterculture was the solution of the next generation—a remedy to the hate and violence all around. Unfortunately, others in the culture didn't understand, and several muggles peacefully protesting were shot and killed in various different places. In short—hate begets hate. It's consequences are universal. However, in the case of the magical community, our hate begets hate which begets crucio. The stakes are higher. And I'm not surprised."

"You're not, you little know-it-all?" Narcissa said, sounding uncannily like the other Malfoy.

"No, I'm not. The stratification in this community, the way purebloods treat muggle-born witches and wizards and actively work to have them systematically disadvantaged—not to mention the wars! Merlin, purebloods have funded the most atrocious campaigns against magical creatures—and to what end? To assert some sort of superiority over them? It's horrible and nonsensical," Hermione finished hotly.

"Why nonsensical?" asked Narcissa.

"Because wouldn't the truly superior being not need to violently subjugate another to establish dominance? Wouldn't it just come naturally?" countered Hermione. Narcissa looked as if she were formulating a response, but Bellatrix cut in first.

"You're right again, Hermione."

Andromeda smiled fondly at Hermione and kissed her forehead.

"My little warrior," she whispered to her, making Hermione turn into a bashful girl again. Turning her attention to her sisters, Andromeda said, "If you are sincere in your apology, Bellatrix, then lift the imperio."

"It's been done," Bellatrix said in a low, soft voice, "I am so sorry for the pain I caused—the pain I put you through."

"I—" Narcissa started and stopped, as if she had never had to apologize to anyone before, "I am sorry as well, Andy. I was under the imperio but I can't help but wonder…I mean if my will had been stronger, I could've saved us all so much more time."

Hermione was quite unprepared for the flood of emotions that these heartfelt apologies released in Andromeda. Hermione knew, she always knew that Andromeda was the kindest person she'd ever met. But to forgive her sisters for something like that? Well, Hermione now considered Andromeda the magical equivalent of Mother Teresa. The sisters converged until they formed a triptych of austere beauty and incredible sorrow, arms looped around one another, supporting and comforting at the same time. Hermione watched from her seat at the dinner table as they slowly, somewhat unwillingly pulled apart and sat down again, this time much closer to each other.

"This isn't going to instantly fix every issue," Andromeda warned, still wiping the tear from her eyes, "it's going to take some time before I can fully trust either of you again."

"I understand," Bellatrix said without hesitation.

"I understand as well," Narcissa said, with some hesitation.

"But you can regain some of that trust right now by telling me about that 'someone' you

mentioned earlier," Andromeda added with a grin.

"Ah—uhh…you see, interesting story, I…actually…can't," Bellatrix struggled to get out.

"Why is that Bella? Are you under another fidelius charm?" Andromeda joked.

"It feels like that, sometimes" Bellatrix replied seriously, glancing quickly at Hermione and then away at everything, anything else. Narcissa's eyes darted between the two witches and, unbeknownst to them, a mischievous smile overtook her features. Andromeda, however, noticed her reserved youngest sister smile.

"Something you'd like to share, Cissy?"

"Oh, nothing of importance, I just remembered this story Draco was telling me before I left about…" Narcissa continued talking about something or other, but Hermione drowned her out and focused on Bellatrix. It took some effort, but she managed to crack that daunting mental wall without knowing she was doing so.

"Bellatrix," Hermione projected into her mind. Bellatrix sat ramrod straight in her chair, startled but trying not to show it.

"Hermione?" asked the older witch. When Hermione slightly nodded her head, careful not to alert the others to their conversation, Bellatrix continued, "How in the world—I am a trained expert in occulmency, how did you get past my walls?"

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that I did," realizing that she may have come off cocky instead of genuinely perplexed, Hermione hastened to add "I just wanted to talk to you in private."

This seemed to have a strange effect on Bellatrix. She seemed…nervous? "What did you want to talk about?" she asked cautiously.

"Honestly I don't know myself, really. Perhaps just…hello."

Bellatrix smiled in spite of herself, "Hello, Hermione."