"I was only trying to help, Bella" said Narcissa.
"How is sexually harassing my student helping me!?" screamed Bellatrix. She was in one of her fits of anger that Narcissa hadn't seen in quite some time. She had been all morning, since Narcissa woke up and came to the guest room to explain herself to her sister. She studied her older sister for a moment, her breath coming in short, fast heaves, nostrils flaring.
"I made you show your hand," she replied, simply. When it became clear that she had no intention of explaining further, Bellatrix huffed and sat down heavily on the armchair.
"What does that even mean?"
"I know you, Bella. If you were left to your own devices, you would just pine after the girl until she graduates, then you would admire her from afar as she slowly but surely comes to be the change this world needs. I can see how you look at her, and how you wish you didn't feel this way for a student. But Bella, if you don't make your feelings clear soon, then she's going to take that as a sign of disinterest. Even contempt."
"I could never….she's already so important to me." Bellatrix finally admitted, apparently giving up the ruse that she had no feelings for the girl, "But Cissa, she's only sixteen. I have to wait. I'll wait for her, for as long as I have to."
"I'm not telling you to go after her right this second," Bellatrix raised her eyebrows at this, and Narcissa conceded, "okay, I was going to convince you to do that. But since you're so clearly attached to your lofty ideals of 'honor' and 'patience', I am forced to persuade you to be patiently impatient."
"You're going to have to explain that to me."
"Show interest, but don't scare her. The girl can't even be in a room alone with me after my little stunt," Bellatrix glowered at the memory of her sister and Hermione in the room, "Remember, I did that for you. You should have seen her this morning. She was wondering about how jealous you looked. She felt bad, but also happy."
"She likes to see me suffer?" Bellatrix asked miserably.
"No, she likes to see you care." Bellatrix pondered this for a moment.
"Thank you Cissa. But, in the future, refrain from reading her thoughts again. Also, if you
ever touch her without her consent…" she trailed off, but the threat was clear.
"She only went along with it because she wanted it to be you" Narcissa replied. This wasn't enough for Bellatrix, who still glowered at her.
"Okay, you have my word. On my honor, I will not intrude on her mind, or touch her without her explicit content." Bellatrix nodded.
"I have to admit, though, the girl has quite the—" before she could finish, Bellatrix wordlessly muted her sister and threatened,
"Unless the next word out of your mouth was going to be 'brain', 'mind', 'intellect', or some such synonym, I suggest you refrain from speaking." Rubbing her throat and sighing, Narcissa acquiesced.
"Well then," said the youngest Black, "I believe Ted promised us eggs in a basket. Do you remember when Kreacher used to make those for us?" Despite how irate she was still at her sister, Bellatrix smiled at the memory.
"I have to speak to Hermione first. What I realized last night…it could change everything."
"Can't it wait until after breakfast? I'm famished."
"No, Cissa. It's urgent."
"Then why didn't you tell her last night?"
"Because she was otherwise occupied!"
"Oh, are you still mad about that?"
"It's literally been less than eight hours and forty three minutes."
"Oh dear. You're obsessed."
"You know what—" whatever else she was going to say died in her throat when Hermione timidly knocked three times then asked to come in. The sisters looked at each other, then at the door. Narcissa gave her sister a rare smile and a pat on the back for encouragement, then went to go open the door. Hermione was startled when she saw her.
"Oh! Miss Malfoy, I thought you were downstairs. Good— ah, good morning. I trust you slept well…"
"Oh I had such wonderful dreams," she replied suggestively. Behind her, Bellatrix loudly cleared her throat. "Well, I believe you two have something to discuss," she said significantly, looking from Hermione to Bellatrix. Without another word, Narcissa stepped around Hermione and left the two witches alone.
"Professor…" Hermione started to say. Bellatrix stopped her immediately.
"Remember, Bellatrix when we're not at school."
"Right, Bellatrix. I just… I just want to apologize for last night. I never—"
"Hermione, there is nothing you need to apologize for." Bellatrix noticed that the girl's face fell when she said this. She clarified, "You, specifically, have nothing to apologize for. My sister, on the other hand. Well, she's a grown woman with a husband and child who made a move on a young, inebriated girl. She is the one who needs to apologize. To you."
"We were all slightly incapacitated." Hermione tried to protest. Bellatrix was having none of it.
"No. Absolutely not. Besides, my sister has a high tolerance for elvish wine. There is no excuse." Hermione was quiet for a moment.
"Then why did she…?" Bellatrix's heart contracted at the confused expression on the girl's face.
"You can ask her yourself, after she apologizes to you."
"Right. I will. Do that, I mean. Are you…are you sure you're not mad?"
"I am furious with my sister. But I don't think that's what you meant, is it? No, Hermione,
I'm not mad at you."
"But I didn't stop it. I mean, she was saying such romantic things and she's so beautiful, for a moment I thought she was—" apparently remembering who she was speaking to, Hermione stopped abruptly and blushed. Bellatrix tried to hide the conflicting feelings of amusement and jealousy. So Cissy was right about that. She couldn't help herself, she had to
ask.
"What, in particular, did she say to you?" The girl blushed again. She did that a lot when she asked her questions, looked at her, or was even in the same room as her. The thought made her feel reckless and elated.
"Something about the waves, the ocean, being conquered…you know, stuff like that." Hermione said, clearly extremely embarrassed to be discussing this with her professor, as well as the sister of the woman in question. Something clicked in Bellatrix's brain.
"Was it something like, 'You confuse yourself for a wave, but you are the entire ocean'?"
"Yes! And.."
"And, 'I will conquer you. I will let myself be conquered by you'?"
"How did you know that?" There was the familiar glimmer of curiosity in Hermione's eyes. Bellatrix hadn't realized how much she missed that look.
"I'm afraid my sister isn't very original. Those are lines from my poems—"
"You write poetry?" Hermione couldn't help interrupting.
"I wrote poetry," Bellatrix corrected, "When I was young and full of angst."
"So why would she…"
"Again, I direct you to my sister, who is the only one who knows her motives." Bellatrix felt a little bad about dodging Hermione's questions. She tried to rationalize it to herself by telling herself, I really don't understand why Cissy does what she does. It's not technically lying. I couldn't lie to this girl if I tried.
"Right. Well then. Last night, you said there was something you realized?" Hermione sounded somewhat hopeful.
"Yes. About your parents." Hermione's face fell briefly, imperceptibly to someone who didn't spend hours of their day daydreaming of that face. But Bellatrix saw it, and made a note of it. Odd. "I think there is a way for me to…talk around this fidelius charm. I think we should visit Chatsworth." Hermione started to object, as she predicted. Bellatrix countered quickly.
"I want to test a theory." That got the desired effect. Hermione couldn't say no to a theory, much less testing it.
"But my parents…" Hermione trailed off worriedly.
"We'll glamour ourselves. I promise you, this will shed some light on the situation." Bellatrix spoke with such confidence Hermione found herself nodding in agreement before he mouth could object.
"Alright. Then it's decided. We'll go after breakfast."
"So soon?" Hermione asked
"We can't sit on this information, Hermione. Remember, this is all connected." Hermione looked thoughtfully at a corner of the room, contemplating this. She chewed the corner of her bottom lip, as she usually did when something was troubling her. Just another thing Bellatrix couldn't help but notice about her.
"What is worrying you, Hermione?" Maybe it was the the way she looked at her, or the way she said her name, but Hermione looked up when Bellatrix spoke and walked toward her, as if about to embrace her. She stopped herself short and looked around at anything but the older witch's face. She was close enough that Bellatrix could reach over from where she sitting on the arm chair and place her had on Hermione's bicep. Hermione's hand immediately covered her hand with her own.
"I just…I haven't been home in years. I've pushed it from my mind for so long. The thought that this whole time, my parents have been under some malevolent influence. I feel like a failure."
"Hermione. Hermione. Look at me." She waited until the girl finally brought her eyes to her own, "You were eleven years old. A child. What could you have possibly done? If there is anyone to blame, it's me. Seven years on the field, and what do I have to show for it? A loose theory, something so flimsy and comical…"
"A theory, no matter how ridiculous, is necessary for progress. We'll either prove it or disprove. Either way, we'll learn something about the world."
"What book did you lift that from?" asked Bellatrix with a sardonic smile teasing her lips.
"It was a documentary, actually."
"A what?" Hermione smiled at her confusion and rolled her eyes.
"It would be easier to show you than to tell you. Maybe I will someday." Bellatrix couldn't be sure, but she thought she could detect a hint of flirtatiousness in the offer. Maybe she was just hearing what she wanted to hear. For the love of Merlin she thought to herself angrily, she's barely old enough to drink. She's not flirting with a woman over twice her age.
"Um, well then…I guess…" Bellatrix was uncharacteristically clumsy with her words all of a sudden. The girl really could throw her off with such simple gestures.
"Yes!" said Hermione, picking up on Bellatrix's implication. Not for the first time, Bellatrix wondered if the girl was secretly a legilimens. "Ted is so excited to cook for new people. He loves new opinions."
"Isn't he just a ray of sunshine," Bellatrix deadpanned.
"He really is," Hermione answered sincerely. She smiled down at Bellatrix, and suddenly Bellatrix remembered that her hand was still on Hermione's bicep, that she was sitting down while Hermione stood slightly to the left of her. She sprung up suddenly, retracting her hand. Immediately, her hand missed the warmth. To recover some of it, she hovered her hand against Hermione's lower back, gesturing to the door with her other hand.
"After you, Hermione."
The two witches made their way downstairs to the kitchen, both wondering about how they would make it through a whole day alone with each other. They walked close enough to feel each other's warmth, but not close enough that they were touching. Hermione chanced a glance up at Bellatrix on their way, taking in her sharp jawline and even sharper cheekbones. Her nose cut a proud profile, her eyelashes lashes curled outward, so long that they almost touched her eyebrows. As if aware she was being studied, Bellatrix glanced down and Hermione looked quickly away. She missed the smile that spread across the older witch's face.
The kitchen was a mess. Ofie and Auxley scrambled to keep up with Ted's enthusiastic ideas ("what if instead of regular bread, we use croissants. That we make from scratch!"). Andromeda wasn't down yet, it was barely ten in the morning. Narcissa stood off to one side, calm sipping her tea and eyeing the scene with mild amusement. When she saw Bellatrix and Hermione, and noticed how close they were standing, how they looked at her, a triumphant smile graced her calm features. It was wiped off when Bellatrix sent a glare in her direction. Oh Merlin, she's still upset? Setting down her cup, she made her way to the duo.
"Hermione, I need to speak to you in private." Bellatrix looked at Hermione, trying to ascertain if the girl was comfortable with that. Hermione gave her a small smile and a nod, so she made her way farther in to the kitchen, where she was far enough away to not hear, but close enough to keep them in sight. Narcissa led Hermione a little away to the kitchen nook by the pantry.
"About last night—I'm afraid I was very drunk and—"
"Bellatrix said you had a high tolerance to elvish wine," Hermione interrupted. Clearly, this girl wasn't going to make it easy for her,
"Did she now? Hmm, alright then. I see." She considered her next move. Suddenly, she leaned in and whispered, "Did my dear sister seem…different to you today?"
"What do you mean?" The girl asked, clearly trying her best to not look flustered at the proximity.
"I mean, since last night, when she walked in on what she thought was me making a move an advance on you, has she become…softer? Easier to read, somewhat?" Hermione thought about this, and a curious expression came over the young witch's face.
"When you say 'what she thought'…"
"Dear, you're the brightest witch of your age, surely you can put two and two together?"
"By two and two, you mean a woman old enough to be my mother making a move on me and my professor, also old enough to be my mother, being somewhat more open with her feelings, are supposed to equate to something?"
"Careful now," warned Narcissa, "I may be old enough to be your mother, but I don't appreciate the reminder."
"Quite frankly ma'am, I…I don't care." Hermione stated as confidently as she could.
"Ah, there's that famous Gryffindor courage. Tell me dear, how long have you pined after my sister?" Hermione stared at the ground, furious at her obvious feelings.
"I'll take that as a 'since the moment I met her'", Narcissa continued, "and when did she ever hint at the possibility of reciprocation?"
"She's my professor, that's wildly inappropriate."
"Answer the question, girl." Hermione's confidence wavered, and she admitted, quietly,
"Never."
"You mean, 'never, before this morning'" she corrected. Hermione regarded Narcissa for a moment. She was so unlike her other sisters, but also similar where it counted. There was none of the unruly curls, the dark features, but all of the confidence in oneself, and those cheekbones.
"Did…she say something to you?"
"Do you really think I'd tell you if she did?"
"You Black sisters are impossible."
"We look after each other. Even if it's unasked for." After a moment, Narcissa continued
in a softer voice, "For what it's worth, I am genuinely sorry for coming on to you so suddenly. I heard my sister approaching, and knew I only had a small window of opportunity."
"Why did you lock the door as soon as we entered?"
"Nothing escapes you, does it? Call it witch's intuition, but I knew my sister would come barging in at some point. She's not the type to let go of a train of thought. Especially when it concerns someone she cares about—"
"She cares about me?" interrupted Hermione, too eager to hear the answer to apologize for cutting off the older witch. Narcissa sighed and looked up at the ceiling, as if imploring the skylight to illuminate the feelings of these two bright, clueless witches.
"You're a bright girl, Hermione. You'll figure it out." And with that, Narcissa left Hermione in the nook. Hermione gazed out the window at the front yard. It was a beautiful summer day, she'd love to spend reading in the hammock tied between the two elm trees on the far left of the yard. Instead, she would be embarking on an adventure with Bellatrix Black, to the one place she vowed to never return.
