A/N: *facepalm* thank you greatly to miztickow who pointed out I misspelt 'beguiled' as 'bequiled'. I would have continued to see it spelt how I'd thought I'd spelt it instead of how I truly had. Heh.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favourited or subscribed to this story :3 makes my heart swell every time I open my inbox to see a message from this website there :)

caradens: Ah! But I have read Wizard's First Rule :D I think that was Terry Goodkind's best. But I don't like the author at all, but that's more of a personal thing that a reflection of his writing :3 I do love Denna/Richard in the books, I especially adore Denna in the show mainly because Denna is so proud of Richard when he kills her. It's this huge unspoken love he has for her and an even bigger from her to him (especially after [in both book and show] when he asks Mistress Constance to train him so Denna doesn't have to be hurt any more) but I'll admit, I'm drawing more inspiration from Book!Denna in later chapter (I didn't realize until you pointed it out!)

Darkshadow-lord: Thank you greatly! Much appreciative :3 I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Someone should really lock me up, I wrote this in public (a cafe). I'm sure a few people peeked over my shoulder and went "well then...writer's...oh, what the-" heh. But if anyone ever asks what you're reading, I suggest saying "it's about this girl, who gets this mentor and that person teachers her how to see what she should really value in life" because that's my answer every time someone asks what I'm writing ;)

*ahem*

Anyway, this chapter was a bit of a struggle. It was leading into a very messy plot line that would have been vague and acted as more of a sub-sub plot. This is better, it's still a sub plot (as the actually plot is only thinly weaved through at the moment) but it's much better and shifts how twisted and demented the original relationship was going to be, to something that makes a little more sense XD I feel proud of myself at least.

Apologies for the shortness, the chapter ended and I didn't want to push it any further :3

Enjoy!

3.

Shiver

It'd been barely two week, two weeks! and nothing had changed. Bellatrix would stalk around her cage and taunt Hermione until the young witch was crying, then she'd play with her, practice minor hexes and jinxes until Hermione was outright sobbing. Only then would she come into the cage, grab her by the thick, bushy hair and drag her up the stairs.

She'd throw Hermione down on the floor, curse her, tie her up and curse her more. Pleads, curses, denial all ran through and were spat from her mouth. Many of which Bellatrix laughed at.

Hermione had learnt her lesson, she knew not to threaten Bellatrix again. Not with Azkaban, no, that subject was off limits.

But already, even she noticed herself changing, noticed herself trying to be good as best she could. The hexes went on longer and the torture less if she was good. She received more food, sometimes even the last of pumpkin juice, though it'd never be considered a mouthful.

It'd been a fortnight of torture and she was learning fast how to survive.

Bellatrix was pleased, she could even be almost considered proud at how well Hermione was learning. She even made a game of how long Hermione could hold back her screams. She knew how the girl forced herself to push through the pain, see through it but she didn't break that yet. She allowed the mind to be split into two segments where one focused on another plane and the other felt the pain.

But today was different. Today Bellatrix felt bored with her usual routine and Hermione's body stunk. She needed to fix it.

She dragged the girl through the large house, watching her kick her feet in some way of protest to what was happening - after all this Hermione was still fighting her and Bellatrix expected nothing less. With ease she kicked the girl into the large tub and watched her gasp in breath as she sat waist high in ice water.

The shock made Hermione pause. She didn't understand where she was and wildly her eyes flicked around the room. A part of her thought, by the tub, that she was in the prefects bathroom, but it soon became obvious that she was still in Bellatrix's house when her eyes went to the large portrait on the wall.

"That's my mother," Bellatrix said, "On her left is Andromeda, her right is myself and darling Narcissa upon her lap." Hermione eyed Narcissa. The girl looked more like a doll there, with blonde curls similar to Andromeda and Bellatrix's on either side of her. She looked barely two or three. Both Bellatrix and Andromeda had, at their young age, masked their blank expressions, though Andromeda's crack of mild disdain for what was happening was still noticeable. "I tried to remove it, but Mother had stuck it there permanently," she glared.

Hermione began to shiver in the water. It was frigid, her body couldn't take it and soon hypothermia would settle in if she stayed too long. Teeth chattering, she looked up at Bellatrix, desperately wanting to return to the hot, burning torture than the cold anticipation.

She knew not to ask, knew not to move, but her body was almost convulsing in the water. She couldn't smell, couldn't feel anything but the ice that drenched her pants as she wrapped chilled arms around herself.

Bellatrix took a step, then another as she slowly walked down the stairs into the pool sized bath. Hermione, against everything, shrunk back and sunk further into the cold. The dark witch didn't even seem to notice the cold, her body didn't shiver or hesitate. It had to be a heating charm, Hermione deduced, the water was ice. She had to react if she felt it.

But Bellatrix didn't react and as she stepped closer, Hermione felt herself submerged further and further into the water. The dark skirts of Bellatrix dress slid over her as one boot landed by her waist, and then the other on her right side. The dress wasn't warm as it brushed over Hermione skin. She could feel it dancing under the water, twisting and turning over bare flesh before Bellatrix dropped and straddled Hermione, her hands pushing the young witch's shoulders down under the water.

Hermione gasped, drawing water into her lungs before her body involuntarily coughed and shuddered in the ice. She thrashed beneath Bellatrix, pushed and pulled, nails clawing as her lungs burned.

The panic lifted with Bellatrix's hands and even though her waist was still pinned beneath the witch, Hermione head broke the surface of water, it's ice slashing over her face as she gasped for air.

Her hair fell limp around her as she coughed, spluttering the water. It wasn't until she heaved in a tired breath that Hermione looked up through her darkened tendrils to see Bellatrix calmly looking at her. "Wha-?" she went to ask but her shoulders were pushed with too much force for resistance and she sunk back into the water.

She didn't fight this time, not at first. She looked up, her breath held under the water as the distorted image of Bellatrix looked back down. She thrashed beneath as bubbles escaped, and she was sure Bellatrix was smiling. Her hands reached and pulled at the black dress, it's corset beneath as she tugged and ripped, shredding with blunt nails as she tried to reach for air.

The last of the bubbles escaped in a scream and Hermione wasn't sure with all this water, if she was crying. She squeezed her eyes shut and felt her head toss in slow defiance before her finger relaxed their grip and she went limp.

There was her real last bubble, she noted quietly. There was a lone bubble trapped somewhere in her body. She was sinking now, far down into the ice and the Antarctic night. Now she -

Her body was ripped up, pulled into warm arms though she was still pinned. The water expelled from her lungs, replaced by deep gasping breaths as she thankfully pressed against the dry shoulder of Bellatrix. Hermione's head pounded, and she could barely hold much of a breath, but it was enough for now.

"Why...are...you-?" she asked, her breaths falling short. She didn't want to pull away. Her mind hated this woman, hated what she was doing, but she was warm and gentle right now. It was the only thing she had to hold onto her.

"I need you to learn," she whispered.

"Learn?" Her voice was breathless, but she was pushing herself. She wanted the witch to talk, to explain. She needed to understand. Her head pulled away to look up at Bellatrix and she regretted it as the cold air seeped between them.

Bellatrix didn't pull her back as Hermione's teeth chattered, she just tilted her head and looked at her curiously, pondering on how much to reveal. "It's important," she said.

The answer didn't help and as Hermione parted her shivering lips to ask another question, she was thrust back into the depths of the water. Her head echoed the words, pounding it against her skull as she hit the porcelain at the bottom of the tub. Wordless. She was utterly wordless in thought as she stared up at the surface, watching her hair tangle under the water.

She was reminded of being a kid in the pool and playing mermaid, then again later as Harry was in the Triwizard cup and the merpeople…

Was this what Bellatrix wanted? Her childhood, her teens flashing before her eyes as she remembered and wished so desperately that she'd never grown up? Because she'd wished and prayed, god, she'd prayed in the cell to God, thinking that maybe against all logic and hope, that maybe he'd reach down and take her or something!

But the bubbles, her air, flew up from her mouth.

She was sure she was crying now. She was sure that if she could, her body would be thrashing in sobs as she again kicked and screamed up at Bellatrix, her fingers skimming the surface only briefly until Bellatrix's body lent further, pinned further and she was trapped beneath the flowing skirts.

How?

There was no pull, no rush, nothing. She was trapped and this time Bellatrix wouldn't save her. The woman was close, her face almost touching the trembling surface that Hermione's body thrashed under until every scream died, every sound left her, every bubble of air and there was nothing, nothing but the perpetual darkness that she sunk further and further into again.

She didn't fight it, didn't resist the darkness as it reached out with fingers and pulled her into thick, silken waters. It was black, an abyss in this darkness and in no longer suffocated as she stopped struggling. The hand didn't reach for her, the fingers just grasped and pulled, then they sunk into every inch of her body and ripped her from life down, lowering her into the underworld.

...

She was dragged back. Her shoulders lifted first, revealing her head, then her body until finally she was lifted out. Her breath came shallow and choked before the water spilled out.

Hermione gasped and swallowed in sharp air into her lungs. It cut down her throat and expanded her chest until she opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling.

It was a glowing white, and it was smooth like snow had been painted over it. She smiled. Her thoughts were a haze, her memories clouded, but for a little while she just laid back and stared up at the ceiling, drawing in short, painful breaths.

She wasn't cold, but she was aware that water ran down her face in droplets. She couldn't bring herself to care as she continued to stare up at the ceiling. The room was perfumed, and smelled like the earth and sandalwood. Everything was lulled and quiet. The only sound was the soft roar of wind echoing in the spacious room.

A hand reached out and cupped her face, turning her to look to the woman next to her.

"Bellatrix," she whispered. Her voice was hoarse again. What had happened? She wondered. She remembered being lifted and pushed and...drowned, she'd been drowned until every gasp of air had escaped her. A tear slid from her as pain twitched in her gut, "You tried to…" she swallowed as her voice cut off, "Did I do something wrong?" she asked.

Her Mi-

No. No, she wouldn't, couldn't think that. No.

Bellatrix only tried to kill her when she'd crossed a line. She hadn't remembered crossing a line. But Bellatrix only smiled so softly, the pad of her fingertip running over Hermione's parted lips. Hermione could feel the blunt nail skim her top lip before the thumb brushed her tear away. This time, she noted, it was tender.

"You've been very good," Bellatrix whispered. Hermione watched the curls. The ends were went and hung looser than those up higher. She had the urge to reach out and play with them between her fingertips, but instead she curled her hands to her chest and held back her cries. Now wasn't the time to act on feelings.

"...try to be my best," she managed. The word came out automatically and honest. She hadn't meant to say, hadn't thought about it. They were right, though. She always tried to be her best. In class, at home, as a friend. She was always trying to be her best.

But it never felt like enough, so she tried harder. She made her parents, her teachers proud, but they were always proud of her achievements. Without them, would they still be?

Bellatrix picked her up and pulled out her wand. As Hermione whimpered, she hushed her, lifting the girl up to sit as she undid the only layer of material on the young witch's torso. Hermione's cheeks flushed, but the woman didn't seem to care, her wand worked fast. With her breasts free, Bellatrix was able to properly fix the damage done to her ribs and shoulders before she pulled a clean, white singled over Hermione's body.

The singlet dampened as it contacted with water, slowly parts of it became transparent to the pink skin beneath. Bellatrix took little notice.

"You'll be finished sooner than expected," Bellatrix whispered into her ear. Her fingers ran through the dark mass of tendrils and slowly she unknotted the hair.

"Will I go home, then?"

"No. You'll go home when I decide." Hope ignited inside of Hermione. She would go home, she'd be able to see her family, her friends! Through the last week she'd wondered how much they missed her, if her parents even knew yet or if the school would keep the fact hidden until her parents were left standing at Kingscross, waiting for a girl that never came. "Do you know why you're here?" Bellatrix asked.

Her previous words as Hermione had been drowning, echoed in her head, "I'm here to learn," she replied, "but I don't know what."

"No. I don't suppose you do."

It was quiet in the bathroom. Hermione shut her eyes and allowed to be enveloped by Bellatrix. The witch tortured her, tortured others and had probably killed countless amounts of people, but she was comforting her now. It might end soon and it could happen without warning, with Hermione thrown back into the water, but it wasn't happening now.

She'd clung to moment, her fingers curling around Bella's arm, feeling the warm skin as the woman held her close. She knew what the witch was doing, she could feel her sorting through her heard, flicking through memories, thoughts and ideas, but she was too tired to even consider stopping her. She allowed Bellatrix inside of her, without a fight.

It was the compliance that allowed the moment to be tender and comforting instead of her being tied up and mentally raped of everything she held dear.

Bellatrix didn't comment, didn't speak, but Hermione brought up happy memories anyway. Her eleventh birthday, the letter, the Yule ball, Crookshanks, her parents hugging her, her earliest memory, her first crush as a kid. Her blushing, playing hide and seek, learning magic, reading books upon books in the library and McGonagall's approving eyes.

A part of her wanted Bellatrix to see what she was breaking, what she was taking away from Hermione. She wanted the witch to feel remorse for her actions, but the only thing she felt was Bellatrix's hold become tighter. Almost stiff as she rifled through.

Hermione focused on really happy thoughts. Laughing with Harry, Ron teaching her chess, the Burrow. Ginny's smile, Luna's vague comments. The Department of Mysterious-

That one caused Bellatrix to paused. She felt the woman in heard become still, the memory stuck as she stared into the vast hallways. There was fear inside of her, she was sixteen then, the oldest one there in their fifth year, and there was slight jealousy that Harry was the leader. Her eyes had gone to Bellatrix, gone to Lucius and back to the other death eaters.

She wanted control, she wanted to be the hero. The wonder of the Department had gone, the slight tingle of happiness and curiosity left, filling Hermione with a void.

"Itty, bitty, baby…"

Hermione forced the memory to change further back to the day. To when she'd tricked Professor Umbridge and the pride she had from that. The smile Harry had given her. The smile Ron had given her when he'd heard what exactly she'd done.

"Clever girl," Bellatrix murmured into her ear. Again pride swelled inside of Hermione's chest. She wanted people to be proud of her, wanted the compliments. She didn't want to be Harry, but she wanted to be the leader at times, wanted to be able to have someone say thank you to her for once.

She wanted people to be proud of her like they were for Harry.

But she wouldn't be, and even less, she knew Ron wouldn't either. He was in even less of the light. At least she was the brains. Ron was the friend. The goofball not as funny as his brothers, not as clever as his brothers, not as good looking, not as anything as the others. Even Ginny got something, being the only girl.

Hermione felt shame wash over her, her thoughts disintegrated and focused on Ron. His smile, his jokes, his laugh. Even the way he smelt washed over her suddenly.

Bellatrix ripped away from her mind and body. It became cold, too quickly. "Should have known," Bellatrix growled. "The weasel. Of course it wasn't Potter you were after."

"Harry? No, Harry's like my brother," she answered. Bellatrix slapped her and Hermione knew her fault. Holding her stinging cheek, she kept her eyes to the floor and watched Bellatrix's shadow stalk around the room in thought.

"Why him?" she demanded, "even your own love-sick mind couldn't pull up a reason why you chose him."

Hermione felt her stomach roll painfully. She didn't know what was going to happen, but she expected that whatever she did, she'd still get hurt. Looking up, she faced Bellatrix's wand. Her head dropped down again. "Because we've been through so much together," she whispered. "I mean...if I just stumbled across him in my twenties and I'd never met him before, we'd never...I'd never…" she trailed off and swallowed, her eyes squeezing shut, "but we've been through so much. We understand each other like no one else ever could."

"You think no one could ever understand you except that weasel?" she asked. Bellatrix's wand went by her side as she kneeled down and grabbed Hermione's jaw in a single hand. "I understand you. I know what it's like to crave approval, to crave power and fill with pride. You see your male friends receive everything, given things to them as people look at you oddly for being so intelligent because you're a girl." Hermione swallowed.

"They don't-"

"They do. Even you can see it. Minerva was one of the few who never would look at you like that, but how many times had you see the other teachers flush as much approval. Didn't they become tired of you always being right? Tired that it was a girl? I know what it does to you when eventually the praises stop; more than I care to," she ripped her hand away and suddenly Hermione understood.

But Bellatrix was pacing, her eyes blazing furiously. Suddenly, she grabbed Hermione by her hair, anger fueled by the young girl's innocent eyes; she began dragging her back down the hall. Hermione thrashed in her grip. Screamed out for forgiveness. She hadn't done anything wrong! She hadn't! She'd been good!

Her scream rose and died in her throat as she was thrown down the stairs of the basement and left alone in the darkness. Bellatrix didn't even place her in the cage. She was stuck, lost in the darkness and suddenly, with an understanding for the dark witch.