Author's Note: Sorry for such a delay on this story. As many of you have noticed, a few other stories of mine have been the objects of my attentions. I apologise for such a long wait. I would like to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favourited this story so far! I hope you all enjoy this next chapter!
"Objects in life do not appear as they seem."
Walking through the torch-lit corridors of the Manor, Hermione loses herself in her own thoughts in the silence. The young witch has full rein of Malfoy Manor since the demise of the young Weasley a few days before, so she has taken to walking the grounds or the corridors when she is not meeting with the rest of the Death-Eaters, minus Bellatrix who has been on a mission for the Dark Lord. Hermione realises, after her first few hours of walking through the mansion, that not all hallways and passages are entirely safe for her to traverse. Snide remarks and hollow threats from long dead Malfoys follow her wake through certain corridors, and though the threats are harmless, the young witch would rather not hear them and not have others hear them as well so as not to remind the living that she is in fact a Mudblood. So she sticks to the corridors that contain only portraits of landscapes or are littered with thick dusty tapestries that depict the Malfoy family's rise to riches.
The days that have passed without so much as a glimpse of Bella has taken a toll on the younger witch. Even though she has always been a very independent woman, Hermione realises that her attachment to the dark witch, though not consummated, is bordering on insane fascination. More than once, has a jealous rage broiled inside the normally quiet bookworm when someone merely mentions her dark angel's name.
It is because of an envious temperament that Hermione finds herself walking down a long winding corridor in the family-wing of Malfoy Manor. She has never tresspassed upon the Malfoy's personal wing before, but she could no longer stand the sight of Rabastan Lestrange. Even though Bellatrix had killed his brother the year before, Rudolphus's younger brother constantly harasses the younger witch, taunting her with the fact that Bellatrix wasted no time leaving the brunette behind to take up a mission.
"So, Bella decided to leave her Mudblood pet behind? Pity really, but then again, she has a habit of picking up filth and casting it off to the side when it no longer serves her purpose," Rabastan drawls as he spies Hermione walking down the hall from the library.
"Are you speaking of your brother being the filth she had cast aside?" Hermione quips, though she knows who he is referring to.
The youngest Lestrange brother draws a sharp intake of breath and stares vehemently at the younger witch, "How dare you!" Quickly producing his wand, he points it at her, "Filth like you needs to learn its place, and that place is not amongst the Dark-Lord's elite!"
Hermione doesn't flinch when faced with his wand, but taunts the older wizard further, "Who are you to know what the Dark Lord wishes? I have yet to see you at any of the meetings Our Lord has arranged these past couple of days. I have proved myself to Our Lord... have you? Or is that the reason why you have not been allowed to any of the meetings lately?"
Rabastan tightens the grip on his wand and soon red sparks flash dangerously from the tip. He opens his mouth to speak, but is interrupted by the appearance of the Dark-Lord, "Now, now Rabastan, that is no way to speak to our newest member! Without Miss Granger here, I doubt you would have been able to even see the face of that miserable blood-traitor Weasley. It is a tragedy that her bloodline is tainted, but her skill and loyalty! We must not allow the sins of her parents to condemn such attributes!"
The Dark-Lord stalks around the wizard with a cruel smile on his face, "She is right you know," he whispers as he moves behind Rabastan. "Your brother may have been a pure-blood, but he was still filth. A lethargic bastard who needed to know his place within society. His work was sub-par as was his loyalty. Cygnus was a fool for making the arrangement between him and Bella. If only he had paid heed to Druella's wisdom and Bellatrix's heart, then we would have been ruling the Wizarding World years ago! But I grow weary of explaining things to the likes of you... CRUCIO!"
Hermione is shaken out of her reverie by the sound of voices coming from behind a closed door on her left-hand side. Tiptoeing as close as she dares, the young witch listens in rapt silence as the voices become louder.
"I do not understand what the problem is Cissy!"
"Bella, you know that she shouldn't be here! She is a Mudblood and nothing can change that, not even your inane idea that she is Enyo reincarnated will keep them from harming her!"
"Girls!" A silence follows as Hermione strains to listen for a continuation of the conversation behind the door.
Her patience is rewarded when the third voice continues, "Now you two know that this is not how I raised you. You are women from the proud and noble House of Black and should not squabble like those without means. Narcissa, I know it may seem strange for your sister to think as she does, but allow her to give explanation as to why she thinks this mudblood is Enyo incarnate."
"Thank you mother..."
'Mother?!' Hermione thinks to herself as she presses herself closer to the door, 'I thought their mother was dead?'
"I really do not know where to start Mother, but I guess it all started when I noticed the same glint in her eyes when we had captured Hermione and the miserable prats that she spent so much time with. She was so ready to join the Dark. If it wasn't for that wretched elf, she would have never left us, but maybe it was for the good, because she did return with the ginger in tow."
Hermione can imagine the look of disturbing glee on Bellatrix's face as she describes the shortened version of their meeting, but a sense of worry creeps upon her as she ponders over who this mystery person, Enyo, is.
"This is all well and good Bella, but how does this make you certain that she is who you think she is?" The voice that now Hermione associates with the Black sisters' mother, "This surely can not be it?"
"No, there is more mother. When she was told to prove her loyalty by killing the Weasel, the way she did it was like poetry in motion. The pain she caused him... no matter how much he begged, she never let up. I wish you could have seen the look in her eyes when he begged for release... the unadulterated hatred for his weakness was apparent. I think... I think that is when I knew for certain that it had to be Enyo."
Silence falls again as the young witch runs a hand through her messy brown hair, 'What is going on?' She thinks to herself as she slowly slides down the wall she had rested her body on while she attempted to lean as close as she could to the door without alerting the occupants inside. 'Was everything that she said before just empty words to bring back the thought of this other person? Was I that stupid to think that she actually cared for me? She only has her heart set on this person who she thinks I remind her of!'
Rage builds inside the witch as she ponders on this betrayal of her heart. Seething as she stands up, Hermione clutches her wand tightly and casts a bombardo and blasts the door off of its hinges and storms into the room. Staring around wildly, she sees the two Black sisters turn to face the door as they sit in twin black leather armchairs facing a large marble fireplace. Above the fireplace is a portrait of their mother, Druella, staring in shock at the sight of the destruction caused by the intruding witch.
Shaking off her shock, the figure in the portrait takes a deep calming breath and looks upon the younger woman with a sense of recognition, "Come closer child and do put your wand away, no one will harm you."
Hermione looks about the room and lowers her wand, but does not put it away and walks closer to the fireplace. Once she is close enough to the two armchairs, Druella continues, "I suppose you heard our conversation. It has been such a long time since I have seen such fury in my presence, not since Enyo caused such havoc before the announcement of Bella's marriage arrangements to Rodolphus."
The younger witch tightens her grip on her wand causing vicious red sparks to fly from the tip of it, but does not raise it, "Do not mention his name in my presence! He is dead now. Has been dead for over a year, he does not matter now, nor did he ever matter before," Hermione growls, though she barely recognises her own voice. Shaking her head suddenly, the young woman stretches her neck to loosen the tension that has been slowly building there, "Bella," she calls out weakly, "what just happened?"
Bellatrix stands up and races from her perch in the chair as glimpses of images pass through Hermione's mind. Flashes of a past she does not remember... and yet, the memories feel vaguely familiar as if she were watching them through a thick, filmy window. Closing her eyes firmly, the young woman tries to will the dark images out of her mind, but to no avail. An overwhelming pain enters her heart as the images draw to a close causing her to crash to her knees upon the hardwood floor, her wand falling from her hands, skittering to a stop against one of the armchairs. The raven-haired witch wraps her arms around the young witch and pulls her close, whispering soft reassurances in her ear.
"It seems you were right Bella," Druella says from her portrait, "This may very well be who you claim it to be!" Leaning as close as she can to the forefront of the painting the matriarch of the Black family smiles softly, "My, my, it has been such a long time my dear. I knew none of Cygnus's backstabbing plans would have kept you from my daughter! I would have thought that your soul would have come back much quicker though. It seems as if at least ten years went by before it was ever to find a proper body."
Hermione's eyes flash open causing Bellatrix to sigh softly and place a soft kiss to the side of her forehead. "I haven't a clue as to what you are speaking of," the young witch manages to breathe out as she grasps onto Bella's hand and tries to attempt to stand.
"Come," the eldest Black daughter says as she stands beside Hermione, her arm wrapped around the young woman's waist to keep Hermione from falling back to the floor, "We have much to discuss."
Narcissa transfigures an armchair into a sofa before Bellatrix helps Hermione into it. Once the older witch sits beside her, the young woman instantly reaches for the raven-haired woman's hand, "I do not understand what is going on. How could you make me feel what I feel for you?"
"Hermione..." Bellatrix starts but is quickly cut off by the portrait.
"Hermione, you must understand Bella's past before you understand what is going on with you," Druella says causing the young witch to look up at the painting.
She stares up at the matriarch of the Black family. A woman who was known for her hatred of all things muggle-related, yet even though Hermione knows this of the late mother of the two witches she is sitting near, she feels a sense of comfort as she looks into the witch's eyes. As she stares at the painting she sees which parent the Black sisters received their beauty from; porcelain skin, deep penetrating eyes that see through to one's very soul, full ruby red lips, and long curly hair cascading down like a waterfall. Though unlike Andromeda's and Bellatrix's, Druella's hair was blonde, much like Narcissa's. As she stares at the figure in the portrait, the young woman realises that, though she has never actually met the woman in the portrait, she feels a sort of connection to her. Not through her offspring, but a true connection to Druella herself, almost at a friendly,verging on motherly, level.
Though these senses invade her thoughts, the young woman shakes them away, "What must I understand about Bella's past Madam Black?" Hermione asks cautiously.
Smiling down at the younger witch, Druella speaks, "I think it is best that you hear it from Bella instead of me, it is her life after all."
The younger witch stares questioningly at Bellatrix who takes a deep breath before she began, "I think I should start at the beginning, which would be my sixth year at Hogwarts. That was the year that I met Enyo. She was a transfer student from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, who was in the same year as me. Her parents were pure-bloods from Ireland who would travel the Wizarding world, spreading the Dark-Lord's message to the rest of Wizarding Europe. Things were going swimmingly for her family... they had gained a lot of traction for our Lord in Eastern Europe, but when they started making their way back towards England they hit a sort of rough spot Spain. Enyo's parents had come across Spain's equivalent of the Order of the Phoenix, but of course this group was much smarter than the Order. They were called 'La Luz de Magia' and they heavily outnumbered them and the small entourage that followed them. They... they were quickly dispatched and Enyo was sent to live with an aunt here in England. That summer was harsh for her, Our Lord... well, he set up all the arrangements for her family and allowed her to properly grieve before allowing anyone to see her, besides her aunt. He knew that she would love to avenge her family and He was right. A month after their deaths, she ran away to Spain and destroyed the group... it was said it rained blood in the city of Cartagena that night that Enyo obliterated them. It is also said that the city hadn't seen that amount of bloodshed since the time of Ancient Rome when Scipio Africanus conquered it in 209 BC.
"The Dark-Lord was furious that she had left the safety of her aunt's manor, but calmed quickly when He realised that she had single-handedly destroyed his only opposition in Spain. Though she won Him a major victory, He made her take an Unbreakable Vow to ensure that she would never do such a thing again until after she had turned seventeen and had finished school. He wanted her groomed for success, to take over where her parents had left off and he made sure she was placed in the only House in Hogwarts that would help her develop her more sinister qualities..."
"So that is how you met her?" Hermione asks, "The Dark-Lord had her placed in Slytherin and she was the same year as you?"
"Yes, it is not as simple as that," Bellatrix says with a sigh, "but yes, that is what happened."
"Why did He care so much for this girl? Who was she to Him?" the young brunette asks, she can understand why someone as powerful as this Enyo woman had caught the attention of their Lord, but did not understand why He had carefully hidden her from what could have been her own destruction at the hands of the Ministry when they found out what the underage witch had done to the wizarding community in Spain.
"Maybe I can enlighten you a bit more as to why, Miss Granger." The three women in the room jump slightly at the sound of the Dark-Lord's voice from the doorway. "I do apologise for entering upon what seems like a family reunion, but Hermione here has asked an interesting question that I feel only I can give a proper answer to," He states as He walks closer to the fireplace and stands in front of the witch in question. "Ah... I see it now, you are right to believe as you do, Bellatrix! I see it in her eyes! She is our dear Enyo finally back from the dead! Come closer to me, child. You asked why I should shelter a witch from the cruelty of the Ministry after she avenged her parents. Well..." He places His hand on Hermione's forehead, "Let me show you!"