Yay! I have one week of holidays so in the break I'll be able to dedicate some more time to writing between politics essays.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! I really appreciate the feedback. Miztickow did make a valid observation about the vows but you shall see that all in due time that little things will piece together and become clear. I spent some time discussing plans for the story with my girlfriend and now have a better direction for where this will all lead. Don't worry, it won't parallel the movie this closely for much longer and soon will likely go on a tangent once the school year starts.

This chapter is kind of that awkward space where not a great deal happens but you'll later see that many events in future chapters were seeded from here.

Chapter Three

It was nearly one o'clock in the morning before Ron and Hermione had made it back to The Burrow. The evening's events had exhausted Hermione; she couldn't bring herself to leave straightaway after the sisters disapparated into the night. She had cried for at least an hour. The cruciatus curse had left her feeling vulnerable and she had thrown up twice on herself as her body reacted to the aftershock-like systems from the pain it had endured. Her neck throbbed where Bellatrix touched her and she reached into her bag to retrieve something that would numb the pain. It was temporary but Hermione knew she could tend to her wounds later. She did not want to be in this house any longer. After cleaning herself and changing back into her clothes she returned the room to how she had found it before Bellatrix and Narcissa had arrived. Narcissa. The name pulled the heartstrings in Hermione's chest. She remembered the look of revulsion that came over the blonde witch when she realised she had been deceived. A fresh stream of tears stung Hermione's face where the older witch had slapped her as she recollected Narcissa's last words. The guilt ate at her and she wanted to scream. She had actually enjoyed talking to her and now Narcissa hated her with all her being. Her stomach cramped the more she thought of the blue eyed witch. She felt so alone and confused.

Harry had heard the distinct 'pop' of apparition and ran outside, throwing his arms over his two friends. He had been so worried about them both. They were three hours later than the time they had agreed to return and the impatient wizard hurried them inside and prepared some tea. They all sat around the table sipping their hot drinks as Harry fired question after question. Ron looked a mess. The back of his head had taken the blow of the fall and he had purple rings around his eyes from a mix of the hex and the concussion. He felt humiliated in front of Hermione and was relieved that she had saved him the embarrassment of leaving out the part of the evening where he had kissed her.

That wasn't the only part of the story that Hermione had failed to mention. She censored the finer details of the discussion between herself and the two sisters. In fact, entire events were fabricated. She kept secret the unbreakable vow and the conflict she had with the duo. Her face burned whenever she mentioned Narcissa's name and she suppressed tears as she remembered what Bellatrix had done to her. She wasn't sure why she couldn't tell Harry the truth but she knew he'd be irrationally angry and disappointed. There is no harm in keeping some things hidden. She thought subconsciously. After all, he was only interested in what Draco's connection was between Snape and Voldemort.

"You were right Harry. Draco is training with Snape and You-Know-Who. He's learning to kill." Hermione cried as her voice broke "Harry, he's practicing on Muggles!"

Harry winced at the thought as he remembered Sirius being taken from him in an instant.

"Bellatrix did mention something else." Hermione recollected her thoughts into chronological order and the two others silently urged her to remember. "She seemed to question Snape's loyalties to You-Know-Who. I think she doubts where his allegiance lies."

"Hermione," she could already see that Harry was frustrated "Snape is against us. You said so yourself that he's been with You-Know-Who teaching Malfoy the dark arts. You can't possibly think he's on our side."

"Bellatrix is bonkers Hermione." Intervened Ron. "Geez, she's freaky I'll give you that but you can hardly take what she says seriously. Dad says that all that time in Azkaban did her head in." He spun his index finger in a circle near his temple to demonstrate.

"And before you left what did you do about him?" Harry was eager to get back onto the discussion of Snape.

"I told you, I couldn't leave him locked away and Wormtail cursed!"

Harry scowled, the contempt he held for Snape ran too deep. Now that he knew the teacher was betraying everyone at Hogwarts Harry wouldn't have hesitated to leave the traitor to rot in his delirium.

"I'm certain he doesn't suspect anything. First thing I did was grab Ron and disapparated him somewhere safe before returning to Spinner's End. The last thing I told Wormtail to do was undo the jinx he had put on Snape and forget that we had ever been there."

Harry still didn't approve of Hermione letting Snape go that easily. However, it never failed to amaze him that she could always find a solution to some of the most difficult situations.

"So what are we going to do now?" Ron asked openly. He ran a hand through his hair and he looked up as if in pain. His head was throbbing in agony and Hermione walked over and sat beside her friend to do what she could to ease the swelling. Ron put a hand on her knee in thanks to which Hermione flinched. The hand remained and she tried to ignore it. Tonight was already too much without Ron's physical advancements.

"We can't do anything more until we see Dumbledore again. He'll know what to do."

Excusing herself, Hermione went upstairs to shower, leaving the boys to continue their conversation. She had, had enough of company and needed to be left alone.

O~O~O

The water was refreshing as it washed away the dirt and grime from Hermione's body down the drain. The steam relaxed her aching muscles and now she could properly inspect the damage. She had been fortunate that there were no open wounds to tend to. There was a little bruising on her back and wrist where Bellatrix forced her into the bookcase but besides minor swelling, Hermione considered herself lucky that she had escaped at all.

Stepping out of the shower, she wiped the bathroom mirror clear with her hand and inspected her face. The redness had faded but Hermione could still feel the pain left behind by the older witch. She touched her cheek and slid her hand to her neck, examining it closely for any abrasions. The spot where Bellatrix had burned her with her tongue no longer ached and Hermione was satisfied that her mind, in the fear of the moment, had fabricated the pain.

What had Bellatrix meant by I'd come back to her? The last thing Hermione wanted was to be anywhere near the crazed Death Eater.

Looking at herself in the eyes, she spoke a mantra of affirmations to focus her thoughts.

"You are Hermione Jean Granger. You are a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You are alive. You are safe. You did everything you possibly could tonight. You are safe. There was nothing more you could have done. You are alive. You will get through this. You are strong. You are alive…"

When she had finished repeating her words over again she relaxed. Today had shattered her security and drained her energy. She needed sleep. There were so many things she had to research but first she had to care for her state of mind. She'd feel better after a nights rest. Hermione slipped her pyjamas on and made her way to her room after saying goodnight to Harry and Ron. They were both still heavily engaged in their conversations and theories. It took every ounce of Hermione's strength to climb upstairs and carry herself into bed. She welcomed the soft mattress and blanketed herself. She thought of the Unbreakable Vow she took with Narcissa and what it meant. Had she done more harm than good? Her mind didn't wander far as she soon slipped into a deep, dreamless slumber.

O~O~O

"Bella," The voice was hoarse with emotion. "I don't know how much more I can take."

"Hush pet" her sister cooed. A slender hand found Narcissa's shoulders and held her close. "You cannot dwell on the past. Continue on the path the Dark Lord has betrothed us with." Bellatrix rested her head against Narcissa's quivering skin and gently kissed the underside of her jaw.

The bedroom they were sitting in was in ruins. Heavy curtains were ripped from their rings and floorboards upheaved and splintered. The Manor, once a home, was now a cage that incarcerated the dark secrets of the Malfoy Family, shadowing them away from onlookers. Narcissa and Lucius had grown apart in the last year. His failures had brought unwanted attention from the rest of the wizarding world and placed their son in the front line of what soon would be a war to end all wars. The patrician witch had welcomed the reprieve from her husband and whilst he was in the custody of the dementors she occupied herself with lavish dinner parties and pleasurable company. But tonight she was shaken.

"Severus was my last hope" she whispered softly as she massaged Bellatrix's scalp with finely manicured nails. Her eyes were staring straight ahead at nothing in particular. Her usual porcelain skin was tarnished with rosy blotches and tears had tracked her cheeks. Even with so much vulnerability consuming her sister, Bellatrix had to commend the strength with which Narcissa held herself.

"Are you sure there's no other way?" the blonde witch asked, turning to the eldest Black.

Their eyes met. Bellatrix waved a hand and slowly the room around them returned to its original magnificence. Moments earlier, she had sat on the bed as she encouraged the power that drove the younger witch to destroy her own boudoir. Narcissa had cast blue and red jets around the room to vent her frustration. Never had she been so furious. Every time she looked down at her hands it was a sickly reminder of the mudblood who she was now tied to.

"Only if Draco can fulfil the Dark Lord's requests will the vow be severed entirely." The dark witch dug her nails into the soft flesh of Narcissa's arm, leaving behind bruised crescent indentations. "Otherwise, your life is owed to the mudblood."

Narcissa leant into the pain as if would atone for her mistakes.

"And if she doesn't succeed?" she winced as she looked down at Bellatrix's nails piercing through layers of skin, digging deeper.

Two fingers forced the younger to lift her chin as if to remind her of the proud heritage they were raised from.

"Then she dies." The words sang softly throughout the room. "It's better that she does Cissy. One less mudblood infesting this planet." She wet her lips as she felt the blonde's pulse heighten.

"You'll be set free from this vow if she fails," her voice was low and devious, longing to once again see the chaos erupt from those celeste eyes "but the Dark Lord will not spare Draco if he too can't deliver."

Narcissa pulled away so that the raven sadist would not puncture her skin. Pseudo-pouting, Bellatrix released her hold over the younger Black.

Narcissa stood up from the four poster bed they had made themselves comfortable on. Her back was turned to Bellatrix. Icy eyes were raised to the ceiling, staring at the chandelier that reflected the moonlight like a disco ball. She took a minute to compose herself, supressing the hatred and fear in her heart. She looked over her shoulder at the raven haired witch who held out a hand. Narcissa rejected it. She returned her gaze to the chandelier.

"You can't possibly understand Bella." Her voice was distant and cold, brushing a hand over where the older witch had left marks on her skin.

Bellatrix didn't inherit the patience her sister had. This evening was the first time she had seen any glimpse of the woman she had remembered, an elitist who didn't have to carry the weight of the world with every second that passed. The Dark Lord burdened her sister for the mistakes her pathetic husband made and after months of effort to console Narcissa she had failed where Hermione had succeeded and all it took was one little vow. Bellatrix rose and grabbed Narcissa's wrist, forcing her to turn and look at her.

"You're not yourself Cissy!" Her voice was strong and she shook her younger sister.

Narcissa tried to push Bellatrix away but the older witch kept her vice-like grip around her sister's wrist. With her free hand, Narcissa reached into her dress pocket for her wand and fired a spell at Bellatrix, sending her flying back onto the bed. Curls were in a tangled mess and blood dripped from her mouth where a tooth had penetrated her lower lip. She touched it delicately, observing the dark liquid on her fingertips before cocking an eyebrow at Narcissa as if it was a game. She was swift to retrieve her own wand and the blonde shielded herself from an oncoming jinx. Bellatrix jumped up from the mattress and zigzagged towards Narcissa, firing spells offensively. Narcissa held her defence and kept Bellatrix at bay. She had learned from a young age that the dark witch had a unique talent for duelling and it was only a matter of time before she would lose yet again.

"Crucio!" Bellatrix's eyes widened as she quickly counteracted her sister's spell.

"I know you like it rough," She grinned roguishly and turned on her toes as she delivered the next blow that sent Narcissa to her knees "but you're not playing fair Cissy." The blue eyed witch clutched her chest as all oxygen escaped her lungs. Bellatrix released the hold she had over her sister with a simple flick of her wand and rolled her eyes as the blonde greedily inhaled.

"You have no idea what it's like Bella. To be linked with mudblood scum. You know as well as I do that Draco cannot do what the Dark Lord has asked of him. If I had any doubt I wouldn't have gone to that hole dragging our family's name through the filth of that neighbourhood! I wouldn't have crawled on my hands and knees begging to Severus like some pathetic lapdog!" Her voice escalated and Bellatrix took thrill in the heat of the moment. Narcissa lifted herself and straightened her spine. She stood so close to Bellatrix that her lips almost brushed against her cheek as she spoke. The younger was slightly taller than her sister, she knew how to empower herself against the insanity of the Death Eater.

"She has to succeed Bella," She pressed her forehead against the eldest and caressed Bellatrix's jawline with the gentle touch of her thumb "for Draco's sake."

Bellatrix caught her hand in her own and watched Narcissa from under heavy lids. She hated the thought that a mudblood could stimulate so much emotion from her sister.

"I'll see to it."

The blonde wrapped her arms around the dark witch's neck in support and allowed herself to be carried back to the bed. A gentle hand brushed the hair out of Narcissa's face as she lay down in the emerald silk sheets. Bellatrix lay beside her, caressing the welts she left on pure flesh.

"I will kill the mudblood." She promised.

Narcissa opened her eyes to the mess of curls in her face and gave an approving smile.

O~O~O

Hermione awoke late. The sun in the sky indicated it was almost noon and the house was alive to hustle and bustle. From her room she could hear Molly and Ginny arguing over something in the kitchen and Arthur clearly was experimenting with some kind of muggle motor in the back yard. Every so-often he whooped with joy only to curse the mechanical device when the rotating fan belts seized up. She lay still in bed for a moment, allowing the time to pass by. Summer holidays were only a few days away from finishing and Hermione snuggled back into the bed covers to relish her last moments of freedom before school recommenced. Although she had enjoyed the time with her parents exploring France's countryside and broadening her palette with rich foods, Hermione longed to be enveloped within the secure walls of Hogwarts. The castle itself was her haven of knowledge with extensive libraries and unexplored corridors filled with historic legends. She had always treasured the thought that witches and wizards from around the world sought Hogwarts as their vault to safeguard precious commodities and secrets.

From her bed she summoned the Slytherin photograph hidden in her bag which landed on the bed with a soft thud. Plumping her pillows and positioning them comfortably behind her, Hermione sat up and held the photo in her hands. She was greeted with a grumble from most of the students who were unsatisfied with Gryffindor's frequent visits. Scanning over the faces, her eyes came to rest where they always did in the bottom right hand side where a younger Narcissa stood. Unlike the others, she had remained silent her eyes cold.

"Do you know who I am?" Hermione asked, her voice giving away the nervousness she felt.

The blonde witch met the student's stare and searched her face. Lucius sidestepped closer to his future wife and after another minute she politely shook her head.

Hermione felt a wave of relief wash over her. At least this Narcissa did not know her like the one she had met last night. She was fine with the thought that the blonde knew she was muggle born. It was enough that she could look upon the attractive features of the aristocratic witch as long as she never had to relive Narcissa's disappointment.

She remained in bed looking at the photograph, her eyes darting between the two Black sisters. A sickly feeling came over her as her gaze fell upon her torturer. Although beautiful, Hermione had to look away as she recalled Bellatrix's carefree will to callously afflict pain. Comparable to the night before, the Death Eater placed a defensive hand on Narcissa's waist. Unlike her sister, she was more aware of the minor details the Gryffindor naively exposed. The look in the dark witch's eyes did not yet display cruelty but something far more perverted. Hermione recognised it as the same look when Harry saw Ginny with her boyfriend. She looked closer at the eldest Black and yes, indeed it was. Jealousy.

"Mornin' 'Mione."

Hermione cried out in surprise and looked up. She was so captivated by the photograph that she did not hear the ginger haired boy enter the room.

"Oh, good morning Ron," her face reddened as she overturned the photograph and she coolly tried to hide her blushing cheeks with her hands "sorry, you startled me."

"I did knock."

"Yes of course. How're you feeling?"

"I'm 'right now," Ron sat down on the bed, bouncing the mattress under his weight "head's a little sore but you did a good job of fixing it last night… thank you."

"It's no big deal Ron. I've grown used to you knocking yourself around." Hermione laughed to defuse the tension that had been building in the room since Ron had entered. She clutched the photograph tightly in her hands and brought it closer to her body so she could conceal it under the covers. The young wizard reached out, noticing the lustre of the frame and Hermione hesitated before handing over the picture. Ron scoffed at the Slytherins and for a moment Hermione felt defensive and went to retrieve it.

"It's 'right 'Mione. She can't get you here."

I kind of wish she could.

He placed the photograph to one side and hugged her longer than Hermione would have liked. He smelt of peppermint toothpaste and… aftershave? As she pulled away he lingered by her face as if expecting a repeat of yesterday. His eyes closed slowly and she turned her head. She didn't quite know how she felt about Ron beyond friendship any longer. Her heart didn't beat in her chest like it did when Narcissa had entered the room at Spinner's End. With Ron, it was as if her mind wanted to believe something imaginary her heart could not simply feel.

"Uh, Ron," his eyes opened to his name and she saw the hurt spill across his face "no, no it's not that. The door…" She indicated to the open door and was thankful for the scapegoat. At least for the meantime we could try and take it slow she thought. She didn't want to rush into a relationship with one of her closest friends especially when she was so unsure about herself.

"Don't hassle yourself," stopping Ron as he got up "I should get dressed. I'll meet you downstairs."

Ron shuffled awkwardly and brushed off the rejection acting far too casual. "Yeah, Mum said to come and wake you. We're going to Diagon Alley today. She wants to show you and Harry Fred and George's shop."

He closed the door behind him and Hermione was finally left alone. She placed the photograph back in her bag and gathered some clothes, pushing aside the conflicting feelings to the back of her mind.

O~O~O

The suburb had changed dramatically since the Death Eaters had raped Diagon Alley from its former splendour. Stores were boarded and their contents looted of anything that was seen as valuable. Streets no longer flourished with colour and instead were washed over with a drab omen feel that encouraged men not to walk alone and mothers to carry their children closely.

At a fork in the road, the Weasley brother's joke store looked out of place with its bright lights and welcoming atmosphere. Inside, people of all ages were exploring the different floors of the shop that was covered floor to ceiling in magical novelties. Hermione had a great time testing unique thingamajigs and wondered how many students this year at Hogwarts would get detentions for deploying some of the more extreme practical jokes within the grounds. She shared her thoughts with her friends and they laughed at the idea of teachers floating in the air from drinking 'Bubbled Pumpkin Juice'.

Looking around, she saw Ginny at a tiered flower-shaped stand overflowing with pink mist. As she drew closer she realised what the youngest Weasley was eyeing and couldn't help but giggle when Ginny looked away, clearly embarrassed.

"Oh, I would never buy one." The red head said hastily, returning the love potion to the basket.

Hermione raised an eyebrow and smiled sceptically. Harry and Ron soon joined them and Ginny left, not wanting to hear her brother's taunts. Hermione elbowed Ron in the ribs as he snickered after his sister and continued to look around the room. As she did, she felt a discomfort in her neck and clasped at the pain. It was only dull but it throbbed slightly and she convinced herself she had only pulled a minor muscle. As she turned, massaging the spot on her neck, something from the window caught her eye and she pulled both boys by their shirts over to confirm what she saw, pointing to two figures that were walking away, keeping to the sides of the street.

"Is that…?"

"Malfoy." Harry finished, anger lacing his voice. Hermione double checked. She hadn't even registered Draco. It was the blonde woman with her hair secured in a neat bun that had drawn her attention. The cobbled path didn't prove to be much of a challenge for her fitted high heels and she wore a modest, black pencil skirt that showed off the length of her legs. Hermione's heart hammered in her chest. She was so nervous that Narcissa would turn around and see her that she hid behind Ron who misinterpreted the gesture and shielded her with an arm around her shoulders.

"Come on, let's follow him." Harry said, stepping around people hurriedly to the exit.

Hermione hesitated to follow but Ron gently pushed her along and soon the trio was outside and walking towards the side street the Malfoy duo had disappeared around. They were quick to catch up and slowed their pace so their footsteps wouldn't alarm the pair in front of them. Hermione looked around at the surroundings. The wide streets of Diagon Alley had narrowed into twisted lanes. Deranged wizards mumbled in darkened corners and cobwebs lined the tops of archways. Hermione gasped as she recognised the area as Knockturn Alley. Harry turned to her, his finger pressed to his lips and pointed to a dimly lit shop with a sign "Borgin & Burke". Draco was last to enter the sinister looking store. From where Hermione was standing she could see Narcissa through half drawn curtains. She began to introduce a group of Death Eaters to Draco but as she turned to acknowledge the closest one her eyes caught a glimpse of coloured clothing, so distinct amongst the grey surroundings. Her movements were calculated and she stood as she always did in the presence of company, superior and reserved. Without drawing attention to who was beyond the window, Narcissa met the brown eyes of the young witch and shut the curtains sharply.