A/N: Poka! You're the best. Knowing you're enjoying this is motivating, I thought I'd be the only one reading. I can't wait for this story to play out and all the mysteries are solved.

Chapter 7: Descape

Wednesday, June 18, 1998 | Ministry of Magic

Returning to the ministry continued to evoke a level of anxiety Hermione hated. It could be remedied with one act. Seek out Harry. Their personal issues shouldn't be dealt with at their workplace. That's what she told herself while still knowing several of the reasons for why she made her choice were tied up in the ministry. Directly below her in fact. It was also much more than the ministry. Waiting until she was forced to confront the situation was a terrible way to deal with it all. Pushing the concerns from her mind, she focused on Snape's update.

"...a limit on how long the protection lasts," he said and looked at her with some impatience. "I can put this all in writing if you'd prefer to read it?"

Managing her reaction, laughing wouldn't make matters better. "No. I'm sorry. I was just thinking," she explained lamely. "Is it a time limit?"

"Twelve hours for the maximum dose of one teaspoon using the optimized concentration. We haven't noted any improvement once that volume has been taken."

Nodding, Hermione thought about the impact. It could be worse. Just having a potion that had the ability to protect memories was already a great improvement. "Is there any benefit to taking smaller doses more often?"

"None that has been observed. There is no toxicity. No threat of overdosing. Considering the rarity of some of the components and the complexity of the brewing, taking more than one needs would be irresponsible," he said with his dry drawl.

"Any concerns about the memories the potion protected once the effects have worn off?" she asked, specifically concerned about memories changed due to time manipulation.

Snape's eyes grew bigger. He wasn't anticipating the question. Likely because he assumed she wasn't entirely listening to him. "As it turns out, yes. There are concerns. Fernando and I tested implanting a changed memory while leaving the original in place. The changed memory was not retained after the potion's effects ended."

It wasn't the answer Hermione wanted to hear. "Can the person affected continue taking the potion to protect both memories."

Giving her a knowing look, Snape considered her for a beat and then offered a small nod. "You may take a dose of potion and it will continue to maintain both memories. It appears this could be indefinite. It would be better to copy the memory and store it, rather than keep multiple memories. As we've discussed, massive changes to one's memory can leave a person… unstable. We don't know how prolonging the condition could affect a person."

Rubbing her sleeve covering the mark from the white fire curse, she knew that was true. Tom was increasingly unstable the more memories he took on. "That might be an easy task if there's a single memory. An entire lifetime of new memories… how would one untangle and copy so many?"

"We're still working on that. There is an archival spell. In fact, it's the spell that Lord Voldemort used to copy his memories for the clone. It was developed by historians to preserve historic events by copying the memories for an entire year. We think it's possible to modify that spell to remove those memories, sparing the original. It will be imperative that we ensure there isn't intermixing."

Her brain started working through the spells and modifications that might solve that problem. Skimming the report Snape brought her, she saw there was a section outlining the efforts. One more thing to keep her mind occupied. As if to prove to her it wasn't possible to really distract from the pressing issues, her mind drifted to Voldemort. He managed to copy his memories each year for Tom. Even memories from the years he was without a body. "Has anyone tried to view the memories Tom discarded?" she asked, knowing it would be an abrupt change in subject. She knew Snape well enough to not waste time explaining herself.

To his credit, Snape didn't seem to mind the shift. "I have. So has Professor Dumbledore."

The more time she spent with him, the more she understood how he managed to survive his time spying for the Order. He was disciplined enough to answer her question without elaborating. Clearly waiting to learn the reason it was asked first. "Was there anything in there that might tell us where Bellatrix could have hid the time turner?"

"Unlikely. They're disjointed. Even if the information was there, it would be hard to know. I am also certain he never revealed himself to Bellatrix when he was in that condition so there wouldn't be a memory to recover."

"She knew where to go to find him. He could have shared information about a place where he hid." She was grasping at straws and they both knew it.

"If Lord Voldemort was inclined to tell anyone about that time, it would have been to Bellatrix. I don't believe that was the case. I can view the memories again and note the locations that can be identified."

He was being kind. It wasn't lost on her that he wasn't offering to allow her to view the memories. "It might be a waste of your time. Maybe Albus has already thought of it."

"He has viewed them several times at least."

Hermione looked down at the report in front of her. Memories. They were malleable. At the mercy of time. It wasn't likely they'd be the key to protecting the past. Finally looking up, she studied him. "Are you still taking the memory potion?"

"I am. Every twelve hours."

Something about his willingness to believe her, that there was still a threat, she felt relieved wash over her.

"Are you taking it?" he asked.

"No," she answered, not elaborating.

He recognized his own tactic and clearly needed more. "Why not?"

With a sigh, Hermione leaned back in her chair, looked around her office before making eye contact with her old professor again. It was an entire dissertation she had held in her head that helped her arrive at her decision. She'd told no one out of fear they'd think she was unhinged. "If I'm not in the time chamber when the past changes to what I've seen in the prophecy… I either won't exist or I won't be in a position or state to do anything about it. I don't want to know life could be different at that point." It took Snape nearly an entire minute to process her words. The silence wasn't uncomfortable. It was actually encouraging to her that he was working through the scenario.

A hint of sadness flashed across the older wizard's face. "You think Tom will either kill you or he'll have captured you."

A hard swallow pushed down the pain in her throat. "He's proven he doesn't want a fair fight. If he gets the time turner, I know he'll go after Harry first. In the vision, James and Lily are both killed before Harry is even born. After that, it would be pretty easy to find some muggle parents and do the same. Or worse." Snape was likely the only person she could have such an open conversation with about these darkest thoughts. It was a strange realization to her. "I think we both know, Tom will want me to know who he is before he finally kills me. He might be willing to find me when I'm a helpless child. I don't think he'd kill me until I would have the ability to comprehend the entire magnitude of his actions." It was rare to shock the man in front of her so completely that he couldn't hide his reaction. Hermione couldn't tell if he was shocked by her words or by her calm demeanor as she dissected the possibilities so clinically. Seeing Madison hovering by the door, Hermione knew she was behind schedule, she had been before Snape arrived. Standing, she smiled at him. "It's purely theory at this point, isn't it? As long as Tom and Bellatrix are in custody, it's a hypothetical."

Taking her cue, Snape stood. "Clearly one you've spent some time thinking about."

"There aren't many people in my life willing to entertain the idea. I guess I can't blame them. I'm not being fatalistic. Just realistic. Thank you for working on the potion. It's a relief to know we have it and people who can be in a position to act are taking it." Her hand rested on his forearm. She wondered if his hypotheticals were actually worse than hers.

"Ideally, it's a precaution we won't need." As she led him to the door, he stopped her. "I obviously can't make promises. If I have my memories and if there is any way I can save you from Tom, I will do everything in my power."

"I know. Please don't blame yourself if you can't." With that, she turned her attention to Maddy and took the folder from her. Her last meeting of the day was to review the findings from Gina Blithe and Lena Prince and their committee on experimental charms. It seemed they were ready to talk to her about the magic that had been used to protect Harry. Walking toward the meeting room, she flipped through the preliminary report. It looked surprisingly thorough considering how many unknown variables were in play. The section detailing her curse scars was jarring to see included. Until that moment, it was just a theory. So focused on the text, she didn't look up when she entered the conference room. "Sorry I'm running a bit late," she said, looking up to find her seat. Her step faltered when she saw Harry. It hadn't occurred to her that he'd be included. Evidence of her preoccupation. Holding his gaze, she sat, trying to gauge his state of mind. He wasn't giving anything away. With effort, she turned her attention to the researchers. "I haven't had time to read your report fully yet. Maybe we can start with your conclusions and work backward?"

"Of course," Gina took over, waved her wand at the screen in front of them. Several bullet points appeared, "As you know, we had some concrete aspects to study and several factors to validate or rule out. Your shield charm is straight forward enough. We've been able to replicate the spell and characterize how it's different from other variations of protego. Protego infrenis, an unrestrained shield cast on a person or thing, we can confirm is total and complete. The protections conferred to the target are external and internal. We believe this can be even be used to protect a person from a potion if used at the right time."

"It's not strong enough to shield someone from the killing curse," Harry said.

It was phrased to be a question. Hermione understood it was a statement. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

Lena shook her head emphatically. "Unfortunately no. The curse works in two parts. First, the extraction of energy from critical organs. That alone can't kill a healthy person. What ultimately kills is the release of that energy. It's the equivalent of a lightning bolt." Lena motioned to Harry's famous scar. "When your mother's love protected you in 1981, and he tried again it safely redirected the energy away from you. The tremendous explosion was redirected back at Voldemort, killing him."

Looking down at the palm of her hand, Hermione saw the evidence of the curse. She traced the outline with her index finger, remembering the jolt of pain that shot up her arm from the spot where her wand handle rested.

"What we think happened immediately after the curse hit Director Granger's shield, was a redirection of that energy. Like a magnet being drawn to an opposite charge," Lena continued.

Hate and love, Hermione thought. Good and evil. There were pushes and pulls. The clashes were inevitable as long as either existed.

"You believe the first part of the curse worked, and the protection channeled the damaging energy away from me? But I wasn't affected. At all. If that's what happened, shouldn't I have been the one who suffered from an energy drain?" Harry asked.

Hermione felt his eyes on her. She fought the guilt she felt over the pain she was causing him, and finally looked in his direction. Nearly gasping at the emotion she saw in his eyes. It was clear the two other witches in the room were unaware of unspoken exchange happening.

"We can't explain how. We think there was an exchange that happened in the connection between the two of you. A sacrifice like your mothers. As the initial curse was drawn to the director, dissipated across her systems. The imbalance that created within her led to a sudden release within her cells."

"That's our working hypothesis anyway," Gina said. "We can't really test it adequately. We have been able to create a siphoning spell to recreate how we think the energy was channeled. Even that took immense magic to pull off."

Having read about past experiments that were conducted, using creatures and beasts, Hermione bristled. "How did you test this?"

It was clear Gina picked up on the underlying hostility. "Everything has been done with simple energy currents. We don't even need to use cultured cells to create a reliable set up."

Harry let out a small laugh when he realized what Hermione had been asking. It relieved some tension between him. Even in the middle of such an emotionally charged discussion, she was trying to protect magical creatures. "If the curse was just redirected, why didn't it kill Hermione?"

The tension returned.

"Well, now we're wading into murkier water. There are several variables the director identified as contributing factors. The room of requirement, her curse scars, and her wand," Gina continued, oblivious. "Lena and I have been cleared to understand the nature of the wand used."

Instinctually, her hand moved to the mokeskin bag resting under her shirt. She didn't like that more people knew about her wand. If it helped them understand how the curse had been blocked, she decided it was worth it. She also didn't think Kingsley would allow the information to become common knowledge. "Can any one of those be ruled out?" she asked, hopeful none of them were required. She didn't want to believe the killing curse could only be countered through such a specific collection of events.

"None can be ruled out completely," Lena offered. "We don't believe the room of requirement was a mandatory factor."

"Why not?" Hermione asked. She might not be objective when it came to that particular piece of magic, but it wasn't unwarranted.

"From what we understand and what we've found experimenting in the room is that it cannot change or modify spells. It can only create physical things needed."

"Tom…" Hermione started, but realized she didn't know what information about Tom's use of the room was classified.

Gina nodded, understanding the unspoken words. "We're actually tasked with studying Tom Riddle's use of the room to manipulate space and time. That's why we're more confident in this assessment. The alignment device he used to tap into the ancient magic was created by the room, but not the magic. Not the spells. As far as we can tell, there was no physical thing that was at play with your spell."

It wasn't entirely convincing to Hermione. It did make it less probable the room was a factor. "And my scars?"

Lena offered a sympathetic look. "We believe the marks left behind by the curses did play a part in redirecting the energy. They may have saved your life, actually. If you imagine a line of moisture on a dry surface. A stream of water will be more likely to follow its path than to forge a new one. The curse was deflected away from your major systems, attracted to the remnants of previous curses."

The irony wasn't lost on her. That she wasn't killed shielding Harry might have been thanks to Tom's abuse. "Is there another way to safely recreate this? Another spell? A device?"

"We think so," Lena said optimistically. "We don't have a solution right now. It's something we're working on."

"Your wand is the one variable we have no way to test. We're not sure there is meaningful data to gather even if you use your wand for us," Gina said. "Can we ask why you had been working on this in the first place? Why you thought your efforts could work?"

"Well. That's complicated," Hermione started, considered Harry. "Some could say that a series of traumatic events had me focused on the worst thing that could happen to me and pushed me to find a solution." Harry shifted in his seat. She wasn't talking specifically about him. Generally everyone in her life could fit the description. "There's some truth to that. I think something else planted the idea in my mind. Did you know that if a prophecy is made but it doesn't reach the subjects in time to be useful, it can travel a short distance to present its information to you in a dream? I didn't know that. I didn't have much use for divinations in school." Everyone in the room remained silent as they tried to follow Hermione's explanation. She took a deep breath. "I touched a prophecy that produced a vision several weeks ago. I think subconsciously, it impressed upon me the need to work out a protection for Harry."

Both women took notes on their parchments. Hermione let them. Harry cocked his head at her and had a look she couldn't place.

"Our preliminary report has been filed. You'll see we're still working out some experiments," Gina started to wrap up the meeting. "Would you be willing to participate in the future if we think it would be helpful?"

"Of course," Hermione told them and watch them gather up their files. Neither she, nor Harry moved to stand. Hermione decided she might as well face the consequences of her decision. Assuming Harry wanted to even broach the subject. When they were alone, neither seemed to know what to say.

"I'm sorry," they both finally said in unison.

"Why are you sorry?" Hermione asked, genuinely confused.

"It didn't look like you knew I'd be here today. I didn't mean to ambush you," he explained. His follow up was spoken quietly, "Why are you sorry?"

Taking in a breath, Hermione knew there was a practical answer. She was sorry she left without saying anything. She was sorry she just left a note. She was sorry she had been avoiding him. She was sorry for all those things. Those weren't the answers he wanted. He wanted to know if she was sorry for leaving him until she could sort herself out or if she was sorry that she was never coming back. As she considered her answer, she felt the burn of tears. "I'm sorry if I've hurt you."

He took in a breath and nodded his head. Standing, he tapped his finger on the table. "You're sorry if you hurt me. I thought after the effects of the vision faded you'd change your mind. If you're not sure whether or not you've hurt me…" He paused, motioned at the chairs Gina and Lena had just been sitting in. "You can do impossible magic because you love me and then turn around and question how much I love you." He didn't wait for an explanation and headed for the door.

Letting the tears fall, Hermione put her hand on her mouth. She wanted to run to him. To take it all back. It was better this way. The sooner he could move on the better off he'd be.

~~/~~

Rain was unrelenting. The ground was so saturated from the downpour, puddles pooled in the low ground. Hermione was soaking wet. She hadn't even considered using a charm to block the drops. She walked forward, not even bothering to avoid the overflowing pot holes. It wasn't a conscious choice that brought her to the familiar path. No where else felt safe. Doubt was consuming her. Guilt lit a fire in her mind. Stepping onto the Hogwarts grounds, the castle looming over her, Hermione knew she was drawn there in an attempt to avoid Godric's Hollow. Some Gryffindor she was. A coward, running away from the man who loved her.

Standing in the mud, it felt like all her energy was finally expended. There wasn't enough to take one more step. Safety lay ahead. Within her reach. She couldn't get there on her own. Hermione considered sitting down right there when she saw the great doors open. Safety was coming to her. Albus had had the sense to wrap himself with a shield charm. She saw the distortion as he tried to figure out where to go in approaching twilight. Hermione pulled out her wand and lit the tip. She'd need it to walk to him. Or for him to meet here where she was at. In the end it was the latter that happened. Dumbledore's head snapped toward glimmer of light. Finally, Hermione felt herself let go of the tension. He was going to find her. He was going to take her to the sanctuary. Tears pooled in her eyes. There was no reason to fight them. Her face was soaking wet. Her hair dripping wet and matted down. Tears would be the least of her worries.

"Hermione?" his voice called out, still a few hundred feet away. He picked up the pace when she didn't respond. His wand lit up the grounds like daylight.

Instinctually, Hermione's hand went up to shield her eyes that had become adjusted to the darkening sky. "Albus," she whispered in relief.

He was standing in front of her in a blink. Almost like he apparated the rest of the way. He might have. "Hermione. What's happened? Are you hurt?"

Hermione nodded her head in response. It hurt. More than any pain Tom had inflicted on her. Contradicting her action, she spoke up, her voice cracking, "No."

He looked skeptical. Extending his shield, she felt the care and concern as it passed through her. It somehow made her feel worse. With another flick of his wand, a blast of warm air wrapped around her, dried her from head to toe. "Come on, we'll get some tea," he said, realizing there were no physical injuries and starting to understand which wound she was troubling her.

Empowered by his calming presence, she stepped toward the castle, followed him through the grounds and then the empty halls. She turned her mind off. The only thing she needed to do was keep her eyes on him. She allowed herself the momentary escape from her responsibilities. This was all everyone who cared for her wanted from her. To let them help her. To know she didn't have to face everything alone. She waited for him to open the door to the secret room. His silence might have been awkward for anyone else. She appreciated it. He wouldn't push her. The chairs in front of the fireplace called to her and she stepped passed him, finally able to find her way alone as he prepared the hot water. Hermione might have been dry again thanks to his spell, but she still felt cold. The steaming cup was placed in her hands. She let the heat prick at her skin. He sat down next to her, stoked the fire while she tried to find a way to explain herself. "I'm sorry I left the way I did. Last week." She waited for him to tell her he wasn't the person she needed to apologize to.

"Sometimes. We do things that we think are for the best." He stopped short of suggesting her choice might not have been the best choice to make.

Hermione let out a heavy sigh. "That's a nice way of telling me I made a mistake."

"It's not a mistake to want to protect those we love. Can you shed some light onto the situation for me? What you saw in the vision that made you feel like you had to leave that way?" he asked.

"It's not what I saw. It's what I… understood," she explained, trying to differentiate her experience from a simple feeling. "Did I tell you about the dream I had in my sixth year? It was from the prophecy Cassandra gave Sybill." Dumbledore shook his head and looked on in curiosity. "It was right before Tom took me the first time. We just got back from the Christmas holiday. I think that's why it had to resort to a dream. Time was up. Professor Trelawney and myself were never alone together. There hadn't been an opportunity for the prophecy to present itself to me. The prophecy didn't get to me in time to help. Jordan explained it can travel a small distance if it's urgent enough."

"What did the dream show you?" he asked, not quite following her apparent change in subject.

Hermione stared into the fire and then closed her eyes. The experience had been pushed aside by the more traumatic events that happened seconds afterwards. "I was studying at a desk. There was a planetary alignment map on the parchments in front of me. There was darkness all around me but noises in the darkness. I turned the page to a reveal a picture of Tom Riddle. A school picture. Something about him, the way he looked was terrifying. Then the darkness consolidated in front of me. Took a form of a person. It approached me. Then, in a blink, the darkness was Tom. Physically standing in front of me. He lunged at me, screaming. He was furious at me. Then I woke up and was pulled back to his time."

"And this experience is why you're so certain that the other prophecy is showing you that you're meant to die?" he asked patiently.

"It's why I know I shouldn't ignore what the vision showed me. Cassandra's prophecy. It was meant to reach me. Not just her words. What they meant. I think the prophecy was the reason I was so focused on finding a way to protect Harry from the killing curse." She didn't know for sure she was meant to die. The prophecy itself wasn't clear who needed to die. The vision hadn't showed her her death. But it hadn't told her explicitly she'd need to protect Harry from the killing curse either. Hermione was so distracted by her thoughts, she hadn't realized her friend was talking.

"...merely a warning. Don't you think?"

"I…" she started, searching for an answer that could work, realizing she didn't have to cover with Albus. "I'm sorry. I was distracted. What was that?"

He didn't appear offended. The furrow on his brow increased indicating his concern. "I was saying how imprecise divinations can be. That the prophecy can serve as a warning. An important one, but merely a warning. There is such a thing as reading too much into the prophecy."

Hermione's felt her back go up. Ordinarily that was her line. She saw it differently with this particular prophecy. "This one produces a vision. This one provides insight beyond the words that had been spoken. I'd say that's more than just a warning. Don't you think?" She repeated his question back to him.

"Hm. And did you see yourself die?" he cut straight to the heart of the matter.

"Well no. But it didn't show me blocking the killing curse either."

Her point was made. He didn't look like he had a counterpoint. "That doesn't mean you need to destroy your life with Harry."

She was exhausted. Having the same conversation again and again. It wasn't why she sought him out. Propping her head on her hand, it was her time to study him. "How's Gellert?" The question was out before she considered how it might be interpreted. Maybe because of it. It flipped the table and allowed him to talk to her about her choices without making it about her choices.

"He's back at Nurmengard Castle. I think that's his preference. He wasn't pleased with my decision to take him back to MACUSA. At least in Austria they let him be. Leave him to his own thoughts."

"He's a seer. Does he still receive prophecies while he's so isolated from others?" Hermione was genuinely curious to know, but would stop her questions if it appeared Albus was feeling any discomfort discussing his old friend.

Dumbledore took a sip of tea as he formulated his thoughts. "I'm told he does. The Ministry in Austria routinely catalogs the prophecies he's willing to share. They suspect he's been less than forthcoming on the matter."

"Albus… I don't mean to pry. I know this is a painful topic."

"Ask your questions. I meant what I said in my letter."

Hermione knew he meant he wanted to keep her from making the same mistakes he had. That wasn't what she wanted to discuss. "Did he ever share a vision with you that was as… vivid as Cassandra's?" Hermione was desperate to find a reason for him to understand her position.

"Gellert shared what he wanted me to see. I can't say if the visions I experienced were from the magic of the cosmos or the manipulation of his own mind. We thought we were going to change the world. And in a very terrible way, I guess we did. My regret is that we didn't allow ourselves to experience a life together instead of trying to change the lives of others." There was regret deep in his eyes. Regret and something more. Hermione guessed a fondness for the man he once loved.

The sentiment wasn't lost on her. A life with Harry was all she wanted. Changing the course of the universe wasn't something she desired for herself. That didn't mean she wasn't bound to try. "You moved him against his will to save him from Voldemort."

"Not at my expense."

Her fingers traced the lines of the ior scar on her forearm. "Do you know what Lena Blithe said to me? She said Tom's curses saved my life. They redirected the killing curse away from my vital organs. There are some things in this life that happen to us that turn out to be in our best interests. Even curses."

Dumbledore shook his head at the suggestion. "These are false equivalencies."

Hermione smiled. There weren't many people willing to tell her she was wrong in such a blunt manner. "I should go…" she stopped short of saying home. Grimmauld place wasn't home.

"You can stay. Your room is always ready."

Her eyes flicked to the door to the bedroom. She was living an entirely different life now. Nothing about her time in sanctuary had been simple. At least the objective was obvious. "Gerty will worry." Her voice didn't carry the certainty of a rejection.

"Gerty can be contacted from the school," he told her and stood. "Stay. Please. I'll feel better."

She knew she would too. A good night's sleep had evaded her since she left Godric's Hollow. "Thanks. Just for tonight."

He stood and head for the exit. "As many nights as you need."

~~/~~

The water can't be traversed.

The frustration from the voice in her mind was almost painful. Bellatrix stood, looked out the bars in her window at the waves crashing against the jagged rocks. They're taking us to the mainland next soon. I have a contract. Can you wait longer?

Everyone who takes me in is weak. They all end up in the infirmary.

Bellatrix knew that was true. It was the reason Voldemort had to find other willing hosts. Her body couldn't hold his magic without feeling the adverse effects. Fortunately there were plenty of Death Eaters willing to contribute to the cause within the prison. Can Tom hold you, she asked, wondering if the horcrux could stabilize the possession.

He can't know what we're planning. And I can't risk the fragment of my soul. It's all that's keeping me tied to this plane.

She knew that all already. It was desperation that had her seeking a solution. A month was a long time to keep Voldemort hidden in a place filled with Aurors and magical detection spells. Her mind flashed to a dilapidated shack. The time turner would remain hidden. She was sure of her efforts. She couldn't shake the feeling that Tom knew. She had let her guard down when she thought Voldemort's memories had control. He wanted the device too. What had she been thinking, doubling an adolescent?

It was the only option. My mistake was obsessing over the mudblood. We should have killed Potter before he was even born. Get us out of here and we'll correct that mistake.

Feeling the presence leave her, she watched the disembodied dark lord disappear through the cracks in her cell door. He was off to find another volunteer. Feeling the drain of her energy from just the short possession, Bellatrix sat heavily. Her loyalties had been divided. Tom should have been the answer. Waiting for him to take the memories after he had already formed his own ideals was the problem. She still had hoped the memories would take over. That he'd become the dark lord once again. She couldn't count on it. Her best hope was to help Voldemort get a permanent body. Maybe if Tom had competition he'd realize who he was meant to be. Letting sleep claim her, Bellatrix checked off another day closer to freedom.