Author's Note: First and foremost, I would like to thank everyone for their kind reviews! I have been working on this story for quite some time. It has been on my mind since I first posted the 'Torture Should Never Feel This Good.'I have quite a bit of this already fleshed out in outline form, so hopefully this one will be updated a bit more often than some of my other stories. I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

"One is certain of nothing but the truth of one's own emotions"

-E.M. Forster

The next morning, Hermione greets the day with a smile on her face. It is the first time she has actually smiled since the trio began their journey months ago. She takes a few moments to stretch, before she removes herself from the nice warm bed.

There is an extra bounce in her step as she takes her beaded bag off of the dresser and rifles through its contents. Lifting a bottle out of the gaping mouth of the bag, Hermione peers at the liquid floating about in the glass jar. Its muddy brown texture causes the brunette to shudder with anticipation as she walks back to the night stand near the bed, where her most prized possession was tucked away in a small phial of its own. Mixing the two components together, Hermione waits patiently as the Polyjuice Potion changes from brown to a reddish purple colour.

Taking a deep breath, she raises the bottle up to her lips and downs the contents therein with a slight grimace. The taste of Polyjuice Potion has never been one of her favourite things to experience, but the young witch knows this is something that she has to do. The brunette closes her eyes as she feels the transformation start to happen. She feels her body shift and change, as the potion courses through her body. Hermione feels the transition, and even though it is a very uncomfortable feeling, she knows that if given the chance, she would drink the potion all over again.

Finally, the convulsions stop, allowing the brunette to make the few steps towards the large mirror in the corner of the room. Looking at herself within the mirror, Hermione smiles. The image smiling back is not her own. She knew she should have waited until a few minutes before they decided to Apparate to Diagon Alley, but she needed this time to herself. And besides the batch of Polyjuice Potion she had made beforehand was strong enough to last five hours.

Staring longingly into the chocolate orbs of the reflection in front of her, Hermione feels the stab of want for the raven-haired witch rush forth through her veins and crash upon the rocks of the knowledge that the woman she longed to touch was not there. It saddened her to know that she was so close yet so far from the woman she craved. Using her full powers of self-control, Hermione pulls herself away from the mirror and walks out towards where the two wizards said they would meet her.

As she crosses the sandy dunes, the boys look on in slight hesitation. They both know that it isn't the deranged Death-Eater that they barely escaped from a week prior, but the way Hermione had strolled toward them caused the fear to trickle back into their hearts. Her amble was similar to that of the dark witch's. Haughty. Arrogant. The very essence of the Black family reincarnated into their normally mousy, bookworm friend.

"What are you staring at?" Hermione snaps as she stood in front of the two wizards. Her voice echoing the seemingly childish but overly daunting voice of Bellatrix Lestrange. She smirks when she sees the two wizards take a step back. "Allright... you lot need to pull yourselves together. I can't have you jumping every time you see me while we are travelling through Diagon Alley!"

"But, 'Mione... You look just like her!" Ron points out, his voice shaking slightly with the fear he had felt when he first laid eyes on her leaving out of Shell Cottage.

"Seriously... Depth of a teaspoon! That is the bloody point Ronald! If we are to infiltrate her vault, I have to act just as she does and look like her as well. Otherwise this little plan will not work!" She rolls her eyes as she notices that the red-haired wizard doesn't relax. So she says the one thing that she knows will calm both wizards down, even though she also knows it is the biggest lie she has ever told. "Do you honestly think I enjoy parading around as her? I have to endure what she did to me night after night, while all you have to do is look at me polyjuiced as her! Honestly... both of you knew what we had to do to break into Gringott's and the longer you stand here, mouth agape, the less time we have until this bloody potion wears off! Now, come closer so I can use the glamour on you, Ron."

The red-haired wizard trudges slowly over to Hermione, with a sigh and says. "You're right... let's just get this over with. It's a bit maddening to see you standing there like that, though."

Hermione smirks at how hesitant Ron still is, waving her wand she carefully executes the glamour charm to mask his appearance from anyone else that would see him in Diagon Alley. She may not care for the two boys, as if she would care for two wizards who took her away from her only chance at ultimate bliss, but she knew if they were found out before her plan to have the boys recaptured was in full swing, she knew she was as good as captured as well. Even though she was bringing the two boys into custody, didn't give her a full reprieve. Being a Mudblood, as well as one of the people on the top of the Undesirables List, would grant her a one stop ticket straight to Azkaban if she bungled this one up.

"There it's done. What do you think Harry?" The brunette asks, though she could care less what the-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Royally-Fuck-Up-Her-Life thought.

"He just looks like an older version of himself." Harry says with a shrug, that makes Hermione fight back the bile that suddenly builds in the back of her throat.

"Do you not pay attention to The Daily Prophet? He looks exactly like Dragomir Despard." The brunette says with a sigh.

"Who in bloody hell is that?!" Ron interjects as he touches his chin to feel the beard that Hermione had transfigured onto his face.

Hermione rolls her eyes, "I swear... neither one of you pay any attention, do you? Dragomir Despard is a pure-blood wizard from Transylvania whose family is an avid supporter of You-Know-Who! It was a very small piece in last week's Prophet. He is expected to arrive in London within two weeks. But no one would question him for being here earlier, as well as in the company of Bellatrix Lestrange. It is a perfect plan!"

"If you say so Hermione, but wouldn't other Death-Eaters know he would have come earlier? And wouldn't they know that he was in the company of Bellatrix Lestrange if he was in the country?" Ron asks as he stops touching the improvements on his face.

"And how many Death-Eaters do you honestly believe are privy to the goings on of the Inner Circle? You two seriously think that the Dark Lord would tell every single one of His followers what goes on?! In that sense they are no different than the Order... remember how they would keep us out of the loop before any of us came of age?! The Snatchers may be dumb, but the Inner Circle is not. He would make sure that He kept all of the secrets that are a need-to-know on a need-to-know basis."

"You just called Him the Dark Lord, Hermione," Harry states heatedly as he stares at the witch.

Rolling her eyes for the millionth time since meeting the two wizards, the brunette draws in a deep breath before answering. "Harry," She stares at the boy pointedly before continuing, "You do realise that in order for us to be able to walk properly up and down Diagon Alley, especially with me pretending to be Bellatrix, we will need to act just like the people we are portraying." She grabs both the wizards' hands before they protested further. "Now come on before this polyjuice potion wears off."