Harry looked across the table at his oldest friend, Ronald Weasley. Now, though, he was beginning to wonder just what it was that had drawn them together in friendship in the first place.
The other boy was currently stuffing his face with a full Scottish breakfast in a tiny little pub outside of Wick, in the Highlands. Although Harry thought it was risky, he had agreed to get some food in the muggle section, and only because the pain of his stomach knotting in hunger made him dizzy. Even though it was the beginning of September, the area was experiencing record low temperatures, and with the constant wind blowing, it was freezing. Harry was happy to warm up for an hour or two.
Yes, for as long as he could remember, it had been him, Ron and Hermione. He'd thought that they would always be together. Instead, it was him and Ron trying to get by, trying to track down Voldemort's horcruxes with no plan, while they'd left Hermione alone at Grimmauld Place without even saying goodbye to her.
Harry's heart clenched when he thought of how awful it was to treat Hermione that way. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have Hermione with them now. She certainly wouldn't allow them to come into the restaurant where they could be seen, because it wasn't safe, but she also would have thought to pack more than three days worth of food. And she would have known some way to keep them warm. She would have had a plan.
Harry and Ron had left after Bill and Fleur's wedding, when the Death Eaters had attacked. Dumbledore wasn't there at the time, and so the two boys didn't really know what to do. They had panicked, knowing that they couldn't be caught by Voldemort's minions. Harry just grabbed Ron's arm and apparated as quickly as possible, which was foolish, considering neither one of them had their apparition license, but somehow they'd made it out alive.
Now it had been a few weeks and the boys were not getting along well with each other, their friendship beginning to crack from the stress and lack of food without Hermione there to hold it all together. To complicate things, they didn't even know where to begin looking for horcruxes or what they were. And, even if they wanted to get in touch with Dumbledore, he didn't know how to get in contact with the Order without advertising their position to the Death Eaters.
He wanted nothing more than to go back, but Harry knew that he couldn't go back. If he did, he would be an utter failure.
Staring at Ron, who was eating faster than Harry had ever seen him, he broached a subject he'd been wanting to for a long time. "Ron, do you ever think what we would be doing right now if Hermione was with us?" Harry asked, testing out the waters.
Ron looked incredibly disturbed to be reminded of the bushy-haired witch that they had been friends with for the past six years. He dropped his fork down dramatically. "No, Harry, I try not to think of that bloody whore! Just thinking about how she spread her legs for You-Know-Who makes me want to spew," he hissed furiously.
"Don't call her that!" Harry said quickly, jumping to the defence of his friend. Even though he'd been just as disturbed as Ron was when he realized what Hermione had done, he got the idea that Dumbledore wasn't telling them the whole picture. "She was there for nearly a year, Ron. Can you imagine what that must have been like?" he asked, thinking of how alone Hermione must have felt. How desperate she must have been.
The red haired boy simply grunted, not giving Harry any indication that he did. Ron might not be able to imagine what it would have been like for Hermione to be there in the past for the whole year, but Harry could. He knew what the charismatic Tom Riddle was like, the one that he'd met in the Chamber of Secrets all those years ago. He knew how smart and charming Voldemort had been as a young man and wondered if Hermione had just been caught under his spell.
"Come on, Harry, you saw it with your own eyes, same as me," he said with a warning glare. "We both saw that she had sex with him - the guy who killed your parents."
Harry could agree that it was strange to say the least, that Hermione would get involved with someone who'd done so many horrible things, but then again, they'd been in the past, before he'd done all those things. When he closed his eyes at night, he still remembered the hurt, pleading way that Hermione had insisted that she'd changed Tom Harry couldn't help but wonder if Hermione really thought she had changed him. He tried to imagine what the future would have been like if Hermione really had gone back.
"Yeah, just forget that I mentioned it," Harry finally answered, feeling defeated. Ron was so stubborn sometimes, and Harry knew that his friend was unlikely to waver on the subject, at least not now, when Hermione's supposed betrayal was so fresh. "Let's finish up here. We shouldn't linger too long."
Voldemort sat behind his desk and slowly pondered how much things had changed for him in the past few months. He had taken over the Ministry and was at his most powerful ever. The Order were scurrying like rats into their little hidey holes, but he knew that it would not take long for him to finally defeat them as well.
Now he had this new issue with that little Gryffindor Hermione Granger.
It had been strange to feel his soul being invaded at first and he'd quickly realized that the Order was up to something. But, it had been even more curious when he'd realized that Hermione Granger was a formidable opponent, one who was there to stay, unlike Ronald Weasley. It was strange to interact with her day after day, sharing bits of his youth with her.
When Severus came to him to describe her predicament, Voldemort found himself agreeing to house and protect her, before he'd even realized it. He didn't know why he allowed it, but seeing how much she had bonded with him in the Diary and the sheer fact that they were very much alike made him cave. He had allowed Snape to bring the girl under the protection of the Death Eaters. He had initially thought that Snape might be attracted to the girl, who certainly had her charms and intellect - something that was very likely to excite the dark haired wizard. He couldn't explain the overwhelming sense of relief that Severus only felt paternal feelings for the girl.
Smiling evilly, Voldemort wondered if Severus was ready to be a grandfather.
The words of the girl had bothered him earlier. He was taking being married to a mudblood too easily, and had accepted that a child was to become of the union much too quickly. He'd never imagined that her time in the Diary would have had such real life consequences, or else he'd have expelled her from it earlier. Now, he was going to have to explain the particulars to the rest of his Death Eaters, some of which would not appreciate the fact that he'd sullied his storied lineage with a mudblood.
Of course the child would have its uses later. He would allow the girl to birth the child. Most importantly, this would allow him to complete his potion, something he'd been after since he'd come back several years prior. The girl could raise the child in it's infancy, but once it reached a certain age, he would begin to tutor the child in the finesses of the Dark Arts. Despite her undesirable birth, there was no denying that the girl was exceptional; it would be an impossibility that their child would not be extremely powerful. Perhaps one day, the child could reign beside him.
And Hermione...would she still be there too? They were soul-bonded, after all, a truth that was not nearly as distasteful as he'd had imagined. Maybe it was so easy to accept that Hermione was part of his life now because of how attached Bellatrix was to her. After all, the dark witch had a very fragile mind, and he didn't want to destroy it.
Still, that was many months away, and he had time to make decisions later. Until then...well, he'd enjoy seeing just how far he could push Hermione.
After Hermione had told the happy news to the two sisters, Bellatrix had squealed and hugged the younger girl, and started chattering away. It had been so long since there was a child in the house and she was very excited. Hermione briefly wondered if there was a reason why Bellatrix and Rodolphus had not had children together, or if they were simply unable to.
They then apparated to the entrance of Diagon Alley, then proceeded to enter the little village. It was so different from the last time that she had seen it. She held in a gasp at all the empty storefronts, sale posters still hanging in the windows. There weren't many people out, and the ones that were seemed suspicious.
Bellatrix didn't seem bothered at all, walking through the deserted streets with her head held high, a grin on her face. People on the street stopped to say hello to her occasionally. She sometimes obliged them and other times she would walk by with a haughty sniff, paying them no mind. They were beneath the trio of women.
Hermione felt totally under the microscope. Everyone was staring at her, trying to find out just who she was. She looked like a girl who might be related to the cold Narcissa Malfoy, but she was somehow different. Hermione didn't want to be recognized, so she tried to keep her eyes on the ground and not make eye contact with anyone who was looking her way.
Before long, the trio entered a shop that she had never been to before. Narcissa immediately began making small talk with the girl behind the counter, and Hermione wondered if the blonde shopped their frequently.
Bellatrix was far more chaotic, walking around the shop, snatching things off of their hangers and throwing them over her arm. If it wasn't to her liking, she would simply drop the garment on the ground. Once she was satisfied, she was shuffling Hermione into the dressing room, before pushing herself inside as well, shutting the door behind her.
"Bellatrix, I don't think I'll need help trying these on," she said sheepishly, still not feeling entirely comfortable with this new, friendly Bella.
"Nonsense, pet. We want to make sure that everything fits you properly," Bellatrix countered, before helping Hermione into the first of many outfits. Once she was dressed, Bellatrix was shoving her back out into the dressing area so that Narcissa could look her over with her assessing, icy blue eyes before giving her final approval or disapproval.
In the end, they had gotten so many clothes fitted to her, Hermione was sure that she would never really be able to wear them all. Despite her protests, the Black sisters had picked out robes of every occasion and color, beautiful evening dresses and cocktail dresses. She was even able to find many dresses and shirts which would allow space for her soon to be expanding belly. She'd also tried on pair after pair of fabulous shoes which Narcissa had selected; Hermione had to admit that the stoic woman did have a good eye for fashion.
Most awkward, though, was picking out undergarments and sleepwear. Having a totally aloof Narcissa Malfoy hand her a handful of knickers was not something she really wanted to have to participate in again, especially since Narcissa often picked out the most risque of underwear. To her slight dismay, Hermione learned that the pureblood witches still had very strict rules on wear stockings, and no matter how much she complained about it, Narcissa would not budge on that.
The nightdresses that she would be leaving with she actually found quite pretty. They were lace and in muted colors. The fabric met beneath her breasts and was embellished there with a little ribbon. The fabric then split, hanging open to reveal her stomach. It was a little too revealing to wear outside of her room, but she picked out a silk robe to wear to the bathroom.
Bellatrix appraised the dress that she was currently trying on. It was blessedly the last of the pile. "Yes, this is one we should certainly get. Now, Hermione, I have a little task for you," the older witch whispered into Hermione's ear, her eyes wild with excitement, wrapping a comforting arm around Hermione's shoulders. "We never intended on purchasing these garments, so I am going to have you Imperius the shopkeeper to let us walk out of here with them."
Hermione swallowed audibly, trying to think of a way to get out of it. That was an unforgivable curse. She wasn't sure if that was something she could do. It wasn't right. It was Dark magic. Steeling herself, Hermione reminded herself that what was unforgivable was turning your back on your oldest friend without the chance of explanation and trapping someone in a room for months with no one to talk to, like the Order had. Perhaps they had lied to her about unforgivable curses as well. Besides, if they had allowed her clothes in her room, she wouldn't have to do this in the first place.
She nodded at Bellatrix and slowly begin changing back into the clothes she wore to the store. She picked up the dress to carry it to the front where the rest of her new clothing was waiting. Hermione had her wand out, but hidden under the garment, her knuckles white around the the piece of trusty wood.
The clerk smiled and began working on the bill for the clothes. Hermione acted while she was distracted. "Expelliarmus." The shopkeeper's wand easily flew into Hermione's open hand.
Bellatrix cackled in her ear. "Do it, my sweet pet. You have to mean it," she encouraged Hermione eagerly. The shopkeeper was visibly shaking, clearly knowing who the two older witches were and their reputations. Without a wand she was defenseless.
Hermione's eyebrows drew together in concentration. Finally, she said the incantation with all the might that she could muster. "IMPERIO!" A happy smile slowly worked its way across the clerk's face. Hermione felt horror settle in her belly when she realized just how easy it had been to cast the spell. The more disgusted she felt with herself, the quicker the spell was fading away. Before Hermione could issue an instruction, the spell lost its power, and she was instead met with tears streaming down the woman's face.
Bellatrix cooed in encouragement, sounding proud. "A very excellent first attempt. Don't worry, I will finish it pet."
"No," Hermione said, not wanting to know what Bellatrix would do to the woman, but not wanting her to end up hurt or dead.. "I know a way that I can handle it." Taking a deep breath, Hermione pointed her wand at the shopkeeper a final time. "Obliviate."
The shopkeeper was then left without any memory of the three witches who had visited her shop that day, and with significantly less merchandise than was indicated in the inventory.
When they arrived back at the Lestrange house, Hermione went straight upstairs to put her new clothing away, feeling terrible about what she'd done. Unable to face the truth, she told the sisters that she might have a lie down afterwards - that her pregnancy was making her unusually fatigued. Narcissa wandered down to the kitchens to ensure that Draco's favorite meal would be made for dinner. Bellatrix walked to her master's study and lightly knocked on the door. After hearing the command to enter, she slipped inside.
"So, how did it go?" Voldemort asked Bellatrix.
"Wonderful, master. We were able to find her so many clothes. I even slipped in a skirt and sweater vest that might be reminiscent of the old Hogwarts uniform when she wasn't looking," Bellatrix smiled widely like a Cheshire cat. "I was kind of hoping it would give old Nott a coronary."
Voldemort let out a small snarl, but then took a deep breath. This was Bellatrix he was dealing with. Sometimes she could be...overzealous. "Bellatrix, I wasn't talking about the clothing...I could care less if she had any clothes. I meant...the payment."
"Ohh!" Bellatrix cried, her smile falling from her face. "She produced the curse readily. I didn't have to prod her too much...unfortunately, it dissipated very quickly. I don't think her heart was in it," Bellatrix explained. "I do think that she was much promise, though, my Lord."
"Hn." Voldemort was thinking this over. Hermione was not averse to using the unforgivable curses, it would seem. And that she was able to produce the curse without any prior instruction was impressive. She was obviously a powerful witch. "How did you handle it, when the curse broke?"
"Well, I said that I would do it and she stopped me. She instead cast a very precise obliviate. Quite handy with memory charms that one is."
Voldemort signaled for Bellatrix to leave so he could ponder his thoughts. Perhaps Hermione wouldn't be used for heavy handed dark magic like Bellatrix was so fond of. She used the obliviate for dark purposes and it got the job done. It was also much more subtle. He doubted if anyone would be able to trace their crime back to Narcissa and Bellatrix.
Nevertheless, he still wanted Hermione to try the rest of the unforgivables. They were really so useful. He would have to do some research to determine if it was alright for the child. Initially he thought a child was such a nuisance, but now that it was so useful for his potion he felt an overwhelming need to protect it. It wouldn't do for him to sire a less than perfect heir. He made a mental note to ring for a healer later to confirm her pregnancy, and to make sure that everything was healthy.
As for the girl's promising dark magic...he would just have to wait and see how the rest of her lessons went with Bellatrix.