AN: Well, I just went through the first ten chapters to make corrections, and that was pretty rough, and not just from the typos. I kept changing verb tense even in the middle of a single sentence, it was pathetic… But now I've done my best to improve my writing and present you (finally) with a new chapter. As I've said before, I'm really struggling with this story, and to be honest I'm not at all happy with my characters. Maybe I'm not cut out for writing long stories; Haunted was all character development and little action while this story is the opposite, and now I'm stuck with this plot using bad characters. Hopefully, this chapter can work through that a bit, but it was hard to get it out. Like the last chapter, this one is nearly twice as long to make up for the long break. Lyrics are from Pet by A Perfect Circle.

-Ophelia

I'll be the one to protect you from

Your enemies and all your demons

I'll be the one to protect you from

A will to survive and a voice of reason

I'll be the one to protect you from

Your enemies and your choices, son

They're one in the same

I must isolate you

Isolate and save you from yourself

Swayin' to the rhythm of the new world order

"Good evening, Bellatrix." I took a seat at your bedside, careful to keep my voice and face as neutral as possible. I wanted to get through this quickly, with as little conflict as possible. Fleur had been released from Madam Pomfrey's care the day after Bill's death, leaving you and me alone in this room. No witnesses, just the way you liked it.

"When am I getting out of here?" Well, there goes getting off to a pleasant start for once. You sat up in your bed, glaring at me as though it was entirely my fault that you were still confined to it. You had been pronounced fully healed a while ago, but Professor McGonagall had insisted that you stay here, where you would be kept safe from the Order and the rest of the school would be kept safe from you. Since you and Greyback escaped the prisons within the Room of Requirement, Kingsley had ordered the security on the remaining few Death Eaters to be further tightened, and was easily persuaded that you were more secure here. Yes, I had been the one to bring you here, but this had been a decision that I had been slowly coming to regret more and more.

"Look, you can be here or chained to that wall again, your choice," I snapped. Merlin, it never took long for me to lose my composure around you, but I think this might be a new record. Talking to Neville and Ginny took more out of me than I would have expected, and the walk through the Common Room to get down to the hospital wing felt like running the gauntlet. By the time I could summon the energy to enter the ward and deal with you again, night had fallen. Madam Pomfrey let me in only because McGonagall had told her that I would need to visit you often, otherwise she surely would have made this wait until morning. You scowled at me, then opened your mouth to retort, no doubt outraged at being shown such disrespect by a lowly Muggle-born. I cut you off, exhausted and impatient. "Or, if you don't like either of those, I can just stand aside and let the Order execute you."

To my surprise, this did not silence you as I had hoped. You leaned in, the scowl still firmly in place. "Empty threat, girl. We both know that. You won't let them kill me if you can stop it, it would be as if you killed me yourself. You're too weak," you hissed, your face inches from mine. It was most uncomfortable being this close to you, your breath washing over my face with each word, but to back away would be to back down. I held my ground, jaw clenched, and watched as your scowl twisted into a smirk. You were remembering the night you had tortured me, how you had gotten in my face and insulted me then, just as you were now. You did not need to hurt me now; the memory was in place and even though I was perfectly safe here I felt threatened by your very presence. I squirmed uncomfortably and your eyes flashed with glee. "What's the matter, Hermione?" you crooned in a sickly sweet voice. Despite my best efforts, I could not suppress a shiver at hearing my name uttered in your voice. "Not afraid, are you? It's just me, your darling fiancée…"

I wrenched myself away, positioning the chair further from the bed as you laughed maniacally. Damn you, I should have known that there was no way to win this one. You grinned cheekily at me, delighted to see me hurt and upset by mere words. I want to slap it off your face. For the first time since I saw you in the Room of Requirement, I want to see you hurt again, even worse than before. Gone was the weak and wounded witch who I had painstakingly healed; gone was the witch who sobbed and begged for death in the Forbidden Forest; gone was the witch who I had promised to help. Here in front of me, right now, was the infamous Death Eater who had terrorized the country for so long. You lay comfortably in the bed, still wearing that manic grin of yours, your eyes glinting with their usual cruelty. I hated you more than anything in the world being that moment, and I hated myself for having been so foolish and gullible as to agree to help you. Who was I kidding? You weren't worth saving; you weren't worth the slightest effort to provide protection. I had been too proud to admit that I was wrong, but I could see it plainly now.

I stood to leave, furious with myself and with you. How could I have let it get this far, let all of this happen? I should never have listened to you at all, should have walked straight out of your prison the moment I saw you. Your grin slid off your face, and I turned away from you and began walking away. "And just where do you think you're going?" you demanded imperiously. I didn't make the mistake of turning back like I always had before, but stopped walking.

"I'm leaving, Bellatrix. I've had enough of you. This whole time, I've been trying to decide if you were even worth saving. You just answered that question for me. You aren't."

"What? You can't do that! You said you would help me, you promised! Is the word of a Mudblood worth nothing, then? I should have figured." I could easily hear the sneer in your voice, but there was a certain desperation beneath it. Good. I wanted to hear you beg for your life, beg me for forgiveness, but your insufferable arrogance would never allow it. I've never wanted such subservience, nothing like that, but you seemed to bring out the very worst in me. I kept walking, ignoring your shouts of "Oathbreaker! You promised, you fucking liar!"

For a brief moment I badly wanted to turn around to see the look on that stupid proud face of yours, but pushed it back down. I needed to be calm and emotionless just then, I needed to distance myself from you while I still could. "Back in the forest, you wanted to die. You got your wish. Isn't that just what you wanted?"

I continued walking then, hoping to leave before I heard your response. The torches set in the wall sconces blew out as I walked past each empty bed, shrouding you in darkness where you sat alone behind me. I had reached the door and had a hand on the knob, ready to leave you to your fate, when you finally responded. "No." Your voice was tiny and weak, like a frightened child. Barely above a whisper, I rather doubted that you had meant for me to hear it at all, or had imagined that I could do so from across the room. The sound, the single syllable, seemed to hang in the air as I waited for you to say more. You didn't, and it wasn't hard to recognize this as a sign of defeat. Merlin, this wasn't what I wanted to hear at all; I felt so much more comfortable seeing you as the villain.

I released the doorknob and turned back to you. I couldn't make out your lonely figure in the dark, but a muttered "Incendio" reignited the torches. You were sitting up in bed, blankets clutched tightly around you as you gazed back at me with wide eyes. I took a deep breath, trying to control myself. I couldn't let my emotions get away from me this time; I had to remember why I had walked away and why that was the right thing to do. Wasn't it? "No… what? What are you talking about?" I asked, stepping away from the door in spite of myself. I should have left then, I had to get myself out of there, but I couldn't bring myself to turn away from you.

You looked away from me and down at your hands. "No… this isn't what I wanted. I don't want to die, Hermione Granger." The malice had left your voice when you said my name that time, everything had left it. You sounded flat and dead, just like you had in the forest. I cautiously walked towards you again, waiting for the first sign of another one of your infamous rages. It didn't come, surprisingly, and I sank back into the chair without you even looking up at me.

"You don't?" You shook your head, your lips pressed tightly together. "You wanted to in the forest, after I healed you. I had to drag you back here," I reminded you.

You closed your eyes, a pained expression crossing your face. "I wanted to be dead, yes, I did… That was… difficult. Talking about… about the Dark Lord… a-and me…" Your voice trembled and for a moment I thought you were going to cry, but to my great relief you managed to control yourself. "He wanted me to choose between him and my sisters, and I- I couldn't do it. I should have been able to choose my family, easy, but I couldn't. I thought that if I stayed with him, kept fighting for him… he might love me back." You hung your head in shame, your shoulders slumping. "He never did, and my sisters… deserved better of me. Cissy… my little baby Cissy… sh-she needed me and I didn't care. Serving him was more important. But I'm still here, and she st-still needs her big sister, she n-needs me now…"

I watched you warily, waiting for you to realize who you were confessing this to and attack me. But you had fallen into a miserable silence, your eyes still closed. Oh god, what do I do? I'm no good at this… I reached out tentatively to place my hand on your arm, unwilling to touch you but equally unwilling to go without trying to offer some form of comfort. You flinched away at the slightest pressure, and I quickly withdrew my hand. "Um, listen, Bellatrix…" What do I say? How do I stop a lunatic from having a mental breakdown? How do I convince a Death Eater that she didn't just waste her life on a megalomaniac when that's just what she did? "Andromeda, uh, she told me that she still cared about you, right before she came in here to, ah, yell at you." Ok, that was not the best word choice, but what else could I call it? Whatever sisterly affection she may have felt had been quickly hidden away the moment she stepped through the door and saw you.

You buried your face in your hands, but not before I saw a tear trail down your cheek. I hadn't thought it was possible for me to feel worse, but I knew that I was only upsetting you more by trying to touch you and speak to you. But I have to try, don't I? Before I could try to speak again, you answered me. "Did she? Really? Did she say it again, after what… happened here? Is she- is she still mad at me?"

The honest answer would have been an emphatic 'yes', but that would clearly be of no help now. "I didn't talk to her afterwards, I haven't seen her since then," I told you, truthfully. Since the encounter here, Andromeda Tonks appears to have departed from Hogwarts, presumably to care for her orphaned infant grandson. Several minutes passed in uncomfortable silence, and I recalled what you had done as your sister shouted at you. Oh god, were you doing that again now? You had retreated into your mind and blocked her out, but I needed you to listen to me tonight. I couldn't leave this place without reaching an understanding with you, and I didn't want to stay too long. I could feel fatigue settling into me, and the numerous empty beds around the ward were looking more and more inviting as time went on. I couldn't sleep with you in the room, no number of wards would keep me safe if you were intent upon hurting me. No, we needed to finish this now. Please, Bellatrix, come back here. Pay attention.

As though you had heard my silent plea, you finally responded. "I've destroyed my family," you reflected somberly. "I threw them all away.. for him." Yes, you did, but there was no way I would agree with this when you were in such a delicate mood. There was no knowing what would trigger another bout of violence from you, and I certainly didn't want to set you off with nobody here to calm you down.

Another awkward silence stretched between us before I found the words that might break it. "I.. I didn't mean what I said earlier. I'll help you, I promised that I would and I'll stick to it."

"Oh sure, you'll help me, right up until you lose your temper again. I know how this will go…" you sniffed. Your voice was rather muffled from you continuing to hide your face, but the derision was unmistakable.

I stared at you in disbelief. "Until I… what? No, no way, you were the one who got angry first! Don't pin this on me, I wouldn't have tried to walk out if you weren't being so insufferable!" I exclaimed.

You dropped your hands and glared at me, your face streaked with wet lines but your eyes full of anger. "I did no such thing. I merely reminded you that you promised to marry me, and that's clearly what set you off," you replied, clearly working hard to keep your voice cool and calm. You wanted me to be the first one to yell, which would prove you right, and I had no intention of letting you wind me up to that point.

I closed my eyes for a moment, taking several deep breaths before answering. "No, that wasn't it and you know it." You raised an eyebrow, and I glowered back at you. You wanted to hear me say it; you wanted to gloat about the power you still held over me, about the fear you had instilled firmly within me. "You were trying to remind me of the night... that you tortured me," I muttered.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you replied in what might have been an innocent tone, had you been able to keep a smirk from stretching across your face. "I've tortured many people, you can't imagine how hard it is to keep track of them all. Why don't you describe it to me, help me remember…" Your smirk bloomed into an eager smile, your eyes shining now with anticipation.

I wanted to scream at you, wanted to grab the pillow tucked beneath your head and press it over your face until your voice was forever silenced, wanted to hit you, anything to relieve the rage and disgust that suddenly burned inside of me. "Go to hell," I growled. "You're completely twisted, you know that? You're an evil, vile hag, and you deserve every misfortune that ever comes your way. You make me sick." I was breathing heavily by the time I finished, as though the effort of keeping from yelling and attacking you was physically straining.

You leaned closer to me, an ominously mischievous look in your eye. "Mmm, you should know, I just love hearing you talk dirty to me. You'll have to do it more often when we're married," you purred. You winked exaggeratedly, then laughed as I shoved your face away in disgust. "Oh, what's wrong, dearest? Does this bother you? Would you rather try something else? This bed is big enough for the two of us, I think," you offered suggestively, pulling back the blankets and patting the mattress beside you.

"No," I huffed, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment. "This is exactly why I tried to walk away, you know."

You shifted away from me again, tilting your head in puzzlement. "Oh come on, I was just playing. I didn't do anything like that before, I just did it now to watch you squirm. I would never actually touch a filthy Mu- girl like you."

I shook my head. "That's not what I meant. I meant, your mood swings. You're out of control, and there's no way I can handle that." You frowned, and I elaborated before you could cut me off. "Come on, even you have to notice you're doing it. Just now, you were terribly upset, then you were angry, then you were… a sadistic pig, then you started hitting on me. All within fifteen minutes. I can't deal with that, I can't. I go from wanting to protect you to wanting to hurt you myself, and that has to stop."

You looked affronted and scowled at me for a solid minute before speaking. "A sadistic pig? Is that what you think of me, then?"

"You're missing the point!" I cried, throwing my hands up in frustration. "If you want my help staying alive, and you need it, then you need to control yourself."

"Don't you think I've already been doing that?" you snapped back. "I haven't hurt you again. I haven't killed you. Hell, I even stopped calling you a Mudblood, mostly. What the fuck else do you want from me?"

"Oh, congratulations then, you're beginning to treat me like a human being. Do you want some kind of prize?"

"Yes, I do. I want the prize where you keep the Order from killing or imprisoning me," you replied seriously.

I snorted derisively. "Well, it'll take much more than that. You need to convince me for good that you deserve to live and that you're worth the effort it will take to save you. If I do this, I'll have to tie my life to yours, and I won't take that lightly."

You rolled your eyes. "Clearly there was something that convinced you that, otherwise we wouldn't even be here discussing this. Why would you agree to my plan at all if you hate me so much, hmm?"

Well, if that wasn't the million-Galleon question. "I don't really know," I admitted.

You tsked at me, shaking your head. "You'll have to do better than that. How do I know your word is good if you don't even know why you gave it? You promised to help me, but why? I have my incentives, I have things to gain from it, but do you?"

I frowned. "What, are you trying to get me to back out? Can't I just not know and go with that?" I knew even without you shaking your head that this could never be an acceptable answer; I needed something solid that would keep me committed to my promise, no matter how angry you made me. "I wanted to help just because I could. I have the power to save you, and I have to use it. I won't be responsible for your death, I won't." I had thought all of this before, among many other things, but never had I spoken them aloud. They still sounded weak to me, but you were nodding thoughtfully.

"That makes sense. Your first kill is always the hardest one, the worst one to try to pull off, I kept telling Draco that. You can want someone dead with every fiber of your being, but there's a world of difference between wanting something and getting up and doing it. Killing is a habit that is much harder to get into than the innocent ever believe. And besides," you added suddenly, "the Ministry demands that you be married to someone in the army anyways. It might as well be me, if it will help me more than any of the others. Wouldn't you want to be helpful, my little Gryffindor?"

I wasn't so sure of all of what you had said, particularly about referring to murder as a habit, but the majority of it made sense. There does seem to be method to your madness, after all. No, I didn't want someone to die if I could save them. Yes, I did want to be helpful, but did I want to be helpful to someone like you?

"I think you missed the point," I said slowly. "I do want to help, but I don't know if I want to help you of all people. I'm not asking why I should save someone, I'm asking why it has to be you. Why do you deserve to live, after all you've done?"

You stared intently at me for a long moment, long enough for me to want to wriggle away. Your coal black eyes seemed to piece me with endless intensity as you gazed unblinkingly at me, and I struggled to keep looking right back at you. At last, you blinked and I quickly turned away and looked down into my lap. "I'll never break the law again if you marry and protect me. I swear it," you finally said.

My heat shot up at once, and I saw that you were watching me without the faintest trace of a smile on your face. You had meant what you said, you looked more solemn than I had ever seen you. I blinked several times, as if you banish this illusion and reveal a lie, but there was none. Uncertainly, I extended my hand towards you. "Then shake on it. I'll marry you and you'll follow the law. You'll never torture or kill anyone ever again." You raised your chin haughtily and squared your shoulders, evidently preparing for an unpleasant experience. You reached out and took my hand, shaking it briefly before releasing me and pulling your hand back.

"Very well, we are in agreement then. Good night," you said awkwardly, trying to dismiss me in a reasonably polite manner.

"Yeah, good night," I mumbled, taking my cue and exiting the ward. Once again, the torches extinguished themselves as I passed, but you did not speak this time.