Hi everybody!

Don't have much to say so I'll make it short. No beta on this one, all mistakes are mine. And, no special warnings. Some language maybe, but that's all.

Disclaimer: I dunnot own OUaT or HP. Sadly.

Enjoy!

Chapter XII.

"Maybe Bellatrix is alive." No. Even saying it out-loud sounded ridiculous. The witch was dead, she had seen Molly hit her with a curse and then the lunatic had disappeared. Exploded. Whatever. Maybe it was this that seemed to cause her a problem. She couldn't see the woman's grave, because there was no body. But the thought of the woman being alive was just too impossible, and she let it go. Whatever involved Bellatrix had to be different. And if she were alive, they would tell her, right? Right.

She had yet to gather the courage to talk to the right person. She felt like she ran in circles, knowing what she had to do but incapable of doing it. She had to see Narcissa, that much was clear, but she didn't want to and it was all that mattered. Andromeda had told her she could come, more than once, but every time she had said no. Now, the summer was flying by, and a week from now, she was due back in Hogwarts. If she wanted to do this, she would have to do it now. And she needed to do this now, because she didn't want to. Every time she stared at her wrist, she saw red. The scar used to make her uncomfortable, now it made her mad. She felt like she was more angry, too, about everything, and she believed it to be merely a phase, exhaustion and her boyfriend being an ass. She had tried, all summer, to be with Ron. But it was becoming clear that they were not a good match, and she knew she would have to break up with him before Hogwarts. Great. Another thing on the 'to-do' list. Sigh.

She was staying at her parents' house, incapable of going back to the Burrow. She had had a fight with her insufferable boyfriend, one more, and she couldn't stand being there. She couldn't stand being in the presence of Molly as well, the woman who had killed her only chance to make the scar disappear. Wait. Where did this thought come from? It was a first, and it scared her. She was glad Molly had killed the lunatic. The woman couldn't hurt her anymore, and it was good. Good to feel like she wasn't going to end up a plaything for a crazy witch. She would find a way to make the scar disappear, and without Bellatrx' help. Not that she could ask for her help, anyway.

But her only way, aside from ransacking the Hogwarts library, was to talk the Ice Queen and she was not looking forward to that. But as the days passed, she felt like she had to, so she didn't end up full of regret. She decided to go in the afternoon, so that she didn't have to stay long — not that the Ice Lady would keep her long, anyway — and so that she could prepare mentally for it. She wondered for a second if it wasn't better to go there with Andy, but she decided against it. As she had said the older woman, she needed to do this on her own. Finally, it was time to go, and she drew a deep breath, before apparating to the gates of Malfoy Manor.

Seeing it again was awful, and she wanted to run away, but the gates opened, as if they knew she was standing there before them. In the distance, she saw the Manor's door open, and she knew she had no choice but step through the gates. She swallowed, and went towards the door, her step flattering as the seconds passed by. Oh how she wanted to run, but damn that Gryffondor bravery! She had to know, had to be sure, and so she had to talk to Mrs Malfoy. Not that she wanted to, mind you, but nevertheless it had to be done and she was seconds away from doing it. She could already see the Ice Lady, standing just outside the door, a frown on her delicate features. It was strange, to see her showing anything else but indifference, but in the end, she didn't exactly care.

"Ms Granger. How can I be of any help?" Her voice was cold, and Hermione couldn't help but shiver, sighing internally. This was going to be a whole new kind of torture.

"I think you know what I'm here for, Mrs Malfoy." Straight to the point, she saw no need to dilly-dally, after all, she knew what she wanted and she hoped to spend as less time as possible near the Ice Queen. Said woman didn't even move, a mask of indifference settling on her regal features.

"Indeed." She turned, then, and walked back into her home, leaving the door opened as a clear invitation. Hermione sighed, wanting — again — to flee, but she stepped forward and into the house, biting her lip in a sudden lack of ease. Oh, the memories this place brought to the surface, it made her shake. Almost. She controlled her limbs, though, trying her best not to show weakness to her host. But she saw the chandelier, back in its place, and she sigh.

"Let's go to the sitting room, shall we? We will be more … comfortable." The young witch very much doubted it was for her own comfort but she nodded nonetheless, following the blonde woman into another corridor, then a room. She watched her surroundings with a curious gaze, surprised to see that the Manor was indeed well decorated. Finally in the sitting room, she dropped as gracefully as she could master into a loveseat, right in front of Narcissa, who sat slowly. Clearing, she wasn't fond of Hermione's presence either.

"What my sister did to you …" She started, but then stopped, brow furrowing. It was as she didn't know exactly to say, and Hermione believed that indeed, she had no idea what she was trying to say.

"I'm not here for an apology." She was a little harsh, and Narcissa flinched, ever so slightly, making Hermione regret her tone for a second; but a second only, as she couldn't regret hurting someone who had caused her so much pain, even if not directly. Fact remained, the blonde woman had done nothing to stop her crazy sister, and she couldn't see past that. Yet.

"Alright then." The Ice Queen sat straighter, stiff. "You're here because of your scar." Nod. "I'm afraid there's nothing I can do, it was a cursed blade." Hermione frowned then.

"I already know that. Everyone knows that. But … you know something else. I can see it." Narcissa sighed, and looked at the brunette with conflicted eyes, hands clenching on her lap.

"I do. Only … only my sister can remove it, I'm sorry." At her words, Hermione's brain screamed no, and she stood suddenly, startling the other woman.

"You're lying." It was an accusation, spoken with harsh words and venom. She had come here, faced her fears, and for what? Being told that there was nothing she could do? That she would be scarred forever, because the bloody bitch had died? No. She couldn't accept that.

"I am not, Miss Granger. Another cannot lift the curse she used. Her will caused it and only her will can remove it." The coldness of her tone made Hermione flinch, and she stepped back, looking through the window. Distractedly, her fingers went to her arm and she caressed the scar through her clothes, oblivious of the fact Narcissa was watching her intently.

"How do you know?" It was barely a whisper, but the Ice Queen heard nonetheless, and she stood as well, turning her back at the witch and staring at the fireplace, mesmerized by the flames.

"Because I have one of my own." She hadn't meant to say it, and yet the words passed her lips, and she couldn't take it back now. She sighed, and felt the younger woman move behind her.

Hermione was stunned, and she had no idea what to say. She thought the witch was undoubtedly crazy, and it was just another proof. How could she do this to her own sister?

"It wasn't like that." The blonde witch said, as if she had read her thoughts. And Hermione frowned, as the woman turned to face her. Her face must have showed her doubts, because Narcissa continued. "She wasn't … like that, at the beginning. She was actually funny, loving, and very protective. She took care of us." She had no idea why she was telling her this; maybe she thought she had to defend her sister, as she was the only person who could. "One day, I think she just gave up. And she became the person you met." She sighed then, and walked away, towards the window, Hermione in her back once again. "That said; there is nothing I can do for you. As my sister isn't … alive, any more, there is nothing I can do."

It was as if the older woman had stumbled on her words and it was such a strange fact that Hermione frowned. As if she hadn't meant to say 'alive' but something else. No, it was emotion, she thought. She was getting paranoid. The bitch was dead, she had seen it, and with her she had taken her only chance to get rid of this damn scar.

She didn't know what to say, though, and the older woman must have sensed it, because she turned around, and stared at the woman, indifferent all over again.

"Is there anything else I can help you with, Ms Granger?" Her tone didn't make her want to say yes, even if there were something else. She shook her head no, and made her way towards the door.

"Thank you, Mrs Malfoy." She wasn't sure what she was thanking her for, her insight on Bellatrix, or what she did for Harry, but it didn't matter. Narcissa nodded and Hermione stepped out the door, and out of the Manor, as fast as she could. She hated it here. As soon as she could, she ran to the gates, and apparated without looking back.

She didn't go back to her parents' house; instead she went to the Forbidden Forest, walking a few minutes before sitting down on a log, and sighing. Her brain was overwhelmed with thoughts and she was terrified to notice most of them concerned Bellatrix. The woman was a damn mystery, and every time she heard something new about her, she was even more conflicted. It was a puzzle, a puzzle she had to figure out. It was curiosity, perhaps, and she didn't know how else to explain it. Surely, she should be spending her time doing better things, like preparing for Hogwarts, but she couldn't help it. Everything she said about Bellatrix didn't make any sense. Bellatrix, loving? Caring? Right. That was believable. The woman was a bloody monster. How could someone loving and caring torture countless people? Maybe something happened and it changed her. Well. That was possible, after all. A trauma could cause someone to react badly.

She had to know. She had to know what could have happened, to make her the crazy woman she was. She didn't know where to start, though; or she knew, but she didn't want to. Her sudden obsession over Bellatrix could raise suspicion, and she didn't people to question her. Therefore, she had to go secretly about it. She couldn't just ask about Bellatrix. She had to find other ways to learn about the witch, and she thought Hogwarts was the perfect place to start.

"Miss Granger?" She jumped, screamed, and brandished her wand at the intruder, a hex on the tip of her tongue. She was suddenly face to face with her mentor, Minerva McGonagall, who took a step back, hands slightly raised in the air. Sighing, the student dropped her arm, and her hand, embarrassed.

"Merlin! I'm sorry, Professor." Said Professor smiled, and inclined her head to the side, raising a brow.

"It's quite alright. What are you doing here, if I may ask?"

"I, uh … I just needed a place to think." She stuttered and blushed, embarrassed about her sudden shyness. It wasn't like the older woman could know she was thinking about the lunatic, right?

"Of course. Do you wish me to leave you to it?"

"No! I, umh, no." Minerva smiled, amused at her student's antics. She merely stared, waiting for her student to make up her mind. "What are you doing here?" The witch raised a single brow, arms crossing above her chest. "Not that you can't be here, obviously, but —" She was ranting, now, and Minerva smiled once again.

"Would you like to join me for tea, Hermione?"

Hermione sighed in relief, and nodded silently, soon falling into step with her mentor. They walked in silence back to Hogwarts, and the young witch stilled when she saw the castle, frozen in awe.

"Yes, it's quite splendid, isn't it?" It was rhetorical but Hermione felt herself agreeing nonetheless. She breathed out, and resumed her pace, following the now Headmistress past the grand entrance. They went up the stairs, to the Headmaster's office, Minerva's office, now, and once in the room, Minerva moved to prepare tea, while the younger witch looked around, smiling slightly. She had never been here much before, but it had changed, she noticed. It suited Minerva, though the colours were neutral, different but beautiful shades of green. The walls were covered with books, and she watched, in awe, how the bookcases seemed to raise to the heavens. Her gaze finally settled on the portraits, and she stared a little, noticing Snape was nowhere in sight.

"Hello, Miss Granger." Came the soft voice, and Hermione smiled, dropping her eyes on the former Headmaster.

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore." Seeing him here reminded her that he was dead and she felt her heart clench a little at the thought. He looked like he wanted to say something else but Minerva's voice interrupted him.

"Cream and sugar, dear?" Her eyes snapped back at her mentor and she smiled, nodding. Silently, she settled in a armchair and looked at the Professor as she approached with the cups, putting them on the small table. She sat in front of her, and smiled, taking up her cup to sip a small amount of tea.

"What is on your mind, Hermione?" The young witch bit her lip, and she grabbed her cup as well, frowning slightly. Her gaze moved to the portraits for half a second, then onto Minerva once again, and she shook her head slightly. "The portraits are bound to me. They cannot talk about what they hear." It was as if she could read her mind and Hermione just stared, before taking a sip, adverting her gaze very suddenly.

"I was researching." It was merely a whisper, and it was clear to the older woman Hermione didn't exactly seem to want to talk about what exactly, she was researching.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't feel comfortable with it, dear." She would never force her to confess, of course, and it was one of the reasons why Hermione like the Headmistress so much. That, and the fact she had the impression of talking to an equal.

"No, it's just …" She sighed, and closed her eyes, not knowing what to say. How could she ask about Bellatrix? She didn't have any right to it. "I went to Malfoy Manor today. To see Narcissa." She pressed, knowing it was unnecessary. Why else would she go there? She looked up and saw Minerva was watching her intently, though so saying a thing. She noticed the portraits moving in the corner of her eye, as well. "I … She told me only Bellatrix could remove my scar."

"That is what I feared, yes." Minerva was frowning, and she looked straight at Hermione, watching her, and the young witch couldn't help but feel shy under her gaze. It seemed the older woman could see what through her and it made her uncomfortable. "But that is not what is troubling you, is it?" How could she know her so well? Hermione wanted to sigh, but she merely shook her head no, and sipped once more, adverting her gaze.

"She told me unsettling things about Bellatrix." She didn't say anything more, and the Headmistress found herself pushing.

"As?" Another sigh.

"She said that Bellatrix used to be loving." And she laughed, because even from her own lips, it sounded ridiculous. Bellatrix, the psychopath. Loving? What a good joke.

"Well …" Hermione's eyes snapped back to attention, staring at Minerva. Of course. Minerva taught her. She knew her. How could she be so stupid? The older woman seemed to be suddenly uncomfortable, but the brunette kept on staring. "There was a time when she was not as crazy, yes. During her Hogwarts years, she had a temper, yes, but she was not cruel."

"So it means something must have happened to her, to make her change so drastically." Of course, the young woman was right in her assumption, but Minerva couldn't quite tell her what she wanted to hear.

"It would seem so, yes, though what, I cannot tell you." She smiled, apologist, but Hermione wasn't fooled. The older woman knew something, she was sure of it. But she did not ask, though; she did not want to make her think she had an unhealthy obsession with the crazy woman.

"Well, I guess we'll probably never know, now." The older woman hummed and sipped again, satisfied that her student wasn't pushing for more. She felt like it wasn't exactly her place to divulge Bellatrix' secrets, in spite of all the misdeeds of said woman. "I should go." Hermione said, and Minerva lifted her eyes, watching her with interest.

"Of course." She simply replied, and smiled, settling her cup back on the table. "I shall see you in a week's time."

Hermione simply nodded, and with a thank you, left the office, descending the stairs. She wandered for a small amount of time, taking her time to go back to the gates, lost in thoughts. She couldn't help but think, now more than ever, that they were hiding things from her. All of them. And she couldn't help but notice that those things probably concerned Bellatrix. And she swore, right there, that she would discover what they were trying so hard to hide.

Thoughts?

For those who don't quite understand where this is going, I'll just say this: it will take a few more Hermione-centered chapters to reunite all characters in Storybrook. After all, she has to find a way to cross worlds first.

And thank you for the reviews! God knows I cherish them.

'till next time!