Chapter 5: 28-31 October
"So how was Slughorn's latest party?" Harry asked Hermione in Herbology on Friday morning. He knew she'd been attending all of Professor Slughorn's get togethers while he was occupied with Quidditch practice.
"Oh, it was quite fun, really," said Hermione, who was putting on her protective goggles. "I mean, he drones on about famous ex-pupils a bit, and he absolutely fawns on McLaggen because he's so well connected, but he gave us some really nice food and he introduced us to Gwenog Jones..."
"Quite enough chat over here!" said Professor Sprout briskly, bustling over and looking stern. "You're lagging behind, everybody else has started, and Neville's already got his first pod!"
"Okay, Professor, we're starting now!" said Ron, adding quietly, when she had turned away again, "should've used Muffliato, Harry."
"No, we shouldn't!" said Hermione at once, looking, as she always did, intensely cross at the thought of the Half-Blood Prince, only making the exception for using the Prince's made up spell to have a private conversation when they were discussing Bellatrix. But Professor Sprout was right-it became increasingly difficult to carry a conversation once the Snargaluff plant attacked them. It turned out the plant wasn't too fond of having its pods extracted.
After beating back its spiky vines, they managed to extract their first pod and drop it into a bowl with looks of disgust on their faces.
"Don't be squeamish, squeeze it out, they're best when they're fresh!" called Professor Sprout.
"Anyway," said Hermione, continuing their interrupted conversation as though a lump of wood had not just attacked them, "Slughorn's going to have a Christmas party, Harry, and there's no way you'll be able to wriggle out of this one because he actually asked me to check your free evenings, so he could be sure to have it on a night you can come." Harry groaned. Meanwhile, Ron, who was attempting to burst the pod in the bowl by putting both hands on it, standing up, and squashing it as hard as he could, said angrily,
"And this is another party just for Slughorn's favorites, is it?"
"Just for the Slug Club, yes," said Hermione.
"It's pathetic. Well, I hope you enjoy your party. Why don't you try hooking up with McLaggen, then Slughorn can make you King and Queen Slug —"
"We're allowed to bring guests," said Hermione, "and I was going to ask you to come, but if you think it's that stupid then I won't bother!"
-"You were going to ask me?"
-"Yes, but obviously if you'd rather I hooked up with McLaggen . . ."
-"No, I wouldn't."
Harry would take the Snargaluff pods over this conversation, so he reached down into the plant to extract another pod in the hope that it would distract Ron and Hermione enough to remember he was right there between them. It was not as though he was really surprised, thought Harry, as he wrestled with a thorny vine intent upon throttling him; he had had an inkling that this might happen sooner or later. But he was not sure how he felt about it. . . . He and Cho were now too embarrassed to look at each other, let alone talk to each other; what if Ron and Hermione started going out together, then split up? Could their friendship survive it? And what if they became one of those vomit-inducing couples all over each other in Madam Puddifoots? Could he survive being around them? The rest of the lesson passed without further mention of Slughorn's party. Although Harry watched his two friends more closely over the weekend, Ron and Hermione did not seem any different except that they were a little politer to each other than usual. Harry supposed he would just have to wait to see what happened under the influence of butterbeer in Slughorn's dimly lit room on the night of the party. In the meantime, however, he had more pressing worries.
It was a topic they tried to avoid bringing up, especially due to the high potential that they could be overheard, but not only for that reason: what were they going to do about Bellatrix? Ron was still all for giving her over to Dumbledore and Hermione was increasingly moving over to his camp since she couldn't see them getting much information out of Bellatrix any time soon.
"...but it is potentially problematic," she said in a hushed voice in the common room on Sunday night. "The longer we wait, the more questions we'll be asked. How and why did we keep her here for so long, that sort of thing...maybe we should have given her over straightaway-"
"How can you say that?!" Harry found himself cutting in more loudly than he'd intended. Ron and Hermione both dropped the essays they were working on and looked at Harry like a Snargaluff vine had just sprouted out of his head. "I mean...she's-it's-fascinating, isn't it?" Harry was speaking more quickly now, trying to cover himself-for what? He didn't know. "She doesn't remember anything about the war or Voldemort or the Death Eaters at all-" he continued (Ron winced at the sound of the evil wizard's name). "We're getting to know her separate from all of that. She doesn't know anything she's done. She's smart and funny and interesting and...it's her second chance. Her memories were taken for a reason...either someone is out for her or someone wanted her to have that second chance. If we give her up, then it's all for nothing. She's safe here. She's only safe here...and if we give her up...she'll die." The other two were still staring wide-eyed at him.
"But why would we want to get to know her?" Ron said finally. "We know what she's done. We know who she is and what she's capable of-she doesn't deserve a second chance, mate."
"How would you know what she does or doesn't deserve when you don't talk to her?" Harry heard himself getting angry now.
"Mate...that's out of order...siding with that Death Eater over us!" said Ron, now raising his own voice too.
"Honestly, be quiet, both of you...very well, muffliato," a very exhasperated Hermione hissed the Prince's spell out of the corner of her mouth as a group of giggling third year girls entered through the portrait hole. "I think you're both making good points-and Harry, even though I'm surprised at you, I do agree...just giving her away to the aurors doesn't seem right, but I agree with Ron, too-" she added when he opened his mouth to protest. "I don't know what the answer is...but, speaking of," she said with a glance at her watch. "It's time to go and see her with dinner, Harry."
"Err...about that, I was meaning to ask, Hermione would you be alright to switch with me? You go tonight and I'll go tomorrow?" Harry asked. Hermione raised an eyebrow suspiciously at him.
"Why? You seemed so keen to go and see more of her a few minutes ago…"
"Well, the first match of the quidditch season is next week and seeing as Katie isn't going to be well enough to play, I've got to find a replacement chaser in time for them to join us at practice this week and as tomorrow's the feast-"
"All right, all right…" Hermione nodded as she swatted him quiet. "I'd forgotten all about sweet sacred quidditch, pardon me…" But Harry wasn't listening to the rest of her sarcastic mutterings. An immense sense of relief had begun to wash over him as soon as she agreed to switch the dates without a fight. While he did have to talk to Dean Thomas about replacing Katie Bell as chaser in the next match, he had far more secretive intentions, as well. Tomorrow was Halloween and Harry didn't want to break his promise to Bella that they'd spend it together...and Ron and Hermione, well, they just wouldn't understand.
The morning of Halloween dawned sunny and unseasonably warm. Bright light washed through the windows of the castle, illuminating swirls of dust like fireflies in the corridors. He did indeed smell strong aromas of pumpkin and cinnamon heading to Defense Against the Dark Arts, but any day a feast or other enjoyable activity was scheduled seemed to make Snape act his most miserable. He then had Potions, where Hermione wasn't talking to him because she didn't like the idea of Harry using the Prince's book to make top of the class.
By the time they made it to the feast, Ron and Hermione weren't speaking to each other, either-something about Ron reasoning out that Hermione had probably snogged Viktor Krum two years before. The good part of this was that even though he was sitting between them, his two best friends were so distracted that they didn't notice him nicking more food than usual for Bellatrix. He grabbed some of the small pumpkins off the table, several caramel apples, frosted jack-o-lantern lollipops, handfuls of candy corn and a few wrapped slices of pumpkin pie in addition to the dinner food and pumpkin juice they normally stole for her. He didn't know why he was disappointed, but he wished he could do more to put on a better Halloween for Bellatrix (her day to day life in the Room of Requirement was starting to really bore her, he knew) but by the time he climbed the staircase to the seventh floor that night, he was just glad to spend time with someone who wasn't angry about something stupid.
"Harry!"
"Oh...err...hi, Bella. It's good to see you, yknow, up and around…" said Harry, although it was a bit of an understatement. Her little room had the look of a place that had decorated itself to match the rest of the castle. Live bats fluttered around the high vaulted ceiling and all the furniture was decked out with orange and black streamers. The end table had a skull resting on it and there was even a cluster of lit jack-o-lanterns in one corner.
But the real surprise to Harry, was Bella herself. She looked like Harry had never seen Bellatrix Lestrange look before. She had traded her usual black robes for a long dress of pumpkin-colored orange trimmed with gold along the sleeves. It was low-cut to the point of embarrassing Harry, who was trying to keep himself from staring at her abundant cleavage spilling out over the top of it. Her hair was no longer matted and wild, but curled to elegant perfection and woven around a gold-leaf headband as if she were a harvest fairie, and her face had more color in it than he'd seen since before her arrival at Hogwarts.
"I was starting to think you weren't going to show up for our party," she said.
"Of course, I mean...I was looking forward to it," said Harry and then he realized it was true. Bellatrix laughed.
"So have I."
"Well, I brought some food from downstairs...and that seems like the only thing we need apart from, I dunno, maybe some music-" As soon as Harry said this, however, an old Victrola appeared next to the couch and started spinning an old Celestina Warbeck record by itself.
They joked and bantered with each other as they ate their way through the feast-spread, Harry, unsurprisingly, having more fun up here with her than he did with the rest of the school earlier.
"Bet you weren't expecting such an eventful Halloween, hm?" Bella prompted as she drained her pumpkin juice. Harry shook his head and swallowed his mashed potatoes before responding.
"Well, in my first year, Ron and I knocked out a ten-foot mountain troll. And in second year, we went to a Deathday party for one of the ghosts."
"Oooh I've always wanted to go to one of those, but the ghosts were always more scared of me than I was of them, I think. How was it?"
"It was alright, I guess...except for the food-they weren't really used to having living guests," he joked and she laughed.
"It's weird, I remember all my Halloweens at Hogwarts except for my first one...I spent time with a friend of mine instead of going to the feast, I think…"
Harry had a bad feeling about this "friend," and decided a change of subject was probably in order. He paused, trying to think what to talk about when he heard the next song come on.
I took my troubles down to Madame Ruth
You know that gypsy with the gold-capped tooth
"Bella?"
"Hm?" She turned to look at him, but her eyes were distanced and she didn't seem as happy as she'd been earlier.
She looked at my palm and she made a magic sign
She said "What you need is love potion number nine"
"Do you..err...want to dance?" said Harry, fully aware of how awkward he sounded and reminded rather unpleasantly of asking Cho Chang to the Yule Ball in the fourth year. But this was completely different...Bella was Bellatrix and he couldn't forget that...he'd also spoken more to her in the past week than he had to Cho in six years of being at school together.
I held my nose, I closed my eyes, I took a drink
"You're asking me to dance, Harry?" Bellatrix actually threw back her head when she laughed this time, but she was smiling again-smiling like she meant it.
"Well yeah, I mean...just as friends...I didn't mean-"
"Stop fussing about, I'm just being difficult on purpose-sure, I'll dance with you-" she said, getting to her feet and gesturing for Harry to do the same. They didn't have much room, so when Harry was up next to Bella (a little taller than she was, it turned out) he found himself just staring at her.
I didn't know if it was day or night
I started kissing everything in sight
The only dancing he'd ever done was at the Yule Ball and that really had only been one song with Parvati Patil and something about taking Bella's waist felt very, very different. When he grabbed her hand, he could tell she thought it was a joke, which, he reminded himself, it was. But then the music stopped.
"The song is over," he said without letting go of her hand or her waist.
"There'll be another song," said Bellatrix. And she was right.
I put a spell on you
Because you're mine
They danced song after song together, even waltzing to some old classical number the magic victrola spewed out. Harry drew Bella gently to him, their bodies only inches apart and while Harry had never been much for dancing, Bella moved with a fluidity and grace that didn't seem to fit her crass death eater personality. They whirled around their little space with her leading and it reminded Harry of flying on a broomstick-swift and effortless.
When the last song ended and the victrola's record spun to a slow stop, Harry brought the back of Bella's hand to his lips and kissed it (which he thought was the polite thing to do) and then without really thinking about it, he bent and kissed her cheek. At this, she laughed her cackling laugh, but did not pull completely away.
"Harry, I'm not too sure how old I am, but I'm surely too old for you!" She spoke like she was scandalized, but her eyes sparkled like it was just another of her jokes and she didn't really mind.
"I'm sorry...it's just, I like spending time with you, y'know?" said Harry.
"I like it, too. You're different." She was looking at him curiously, with her head tilted to one side and her hair falling playfully over that orange dress.
"So are you." Who was she, really? Sure, she was probably just old enough to be his mother, she was a death eater, a murderer, a Slytherin, Bellatrix who was obsessed with the man who'd tried to take everything from Harry...but she was also Bella who was smart and funny and attractive, who knew the right things to say, who was strong in the face of what must seem like an impossible situation, and she was Bella who he really wanted to kiss again.
And even though he knew it was wrong, his dreams that night were full of Bellatrix in her orange dress, lighting a fire in his life, and he was deeply grateful that neither Ron nor Hermione could perform Legilimency.