Trigger warnings at the end of the chapter
Harry Potter belongs to JKR
Chapter 17
Bellatrix stood in the centre of the large circle dug into the forest floor, double checking the inscriptions on the stones and candles set at seven points around the edges. The naked branches swayed above, but no breeze stirred where she stood. Four weeks. Four weeks spent on the creation of the ritual circle and the harness embedded in the ground within it, the wards surrounding it, the chiselling of the runestones, the covert procurement of reagents from Slughorn's stores and the brewing of special potions at the Dark Lord's instruction. Tonight, on the longest night of the year, when the Veil was thinnest, she would harness the power of the Resurrection Stone to allow her beloved to cross back into the mortal realm. Bellatrix would have preferred to conduct the ritual somewhere hidden away, but the Dark Lord insisted on using the intersection of ley lines near Hogwarts to enhance the ritual as much as possible. No one had accomplished what they were trying to achieve, but the Dark Lord, confident in their success, continued to heap praise upon Bellatrix's devotion and capabilities. Every time he did so, Bellatrix felt a small high run through her, and she couldn't keep the smile from her face or the spring from her step at the recognition.
Still, it was a complicated ritual, and the requirements were gut-wrenchingly horrid.
"Actually, horrid doesn't come close, but I'll do it, I'd do anything to be with him," she thought, "I can always obliviate myself afterwards."
Bellatrix comforted herself with this knowledge as she went about the final preparations. She'd had very little experience with soul magic but as the Dark Lord reminded her, he'd gone much farther down the path than any other. He explained the process to her: Tonight's ritual would allow his soul to cross back over, and a second ritual requiring a blood and bone and flesh sacrifice would reconstitute his body. Until the second ritual could be performed, he would require a living vessel to house his soul after he crossed, but a wholly human vessel wasn't suitable; he needed a hybrid. Not just any hybrid either, but a hybrid that had never been alive before; the Dark Lord's soul needed to inhabit a hybrid body from conception.
Hybrids were common, even hybrids that bred true. Hippogriffs, manticores, and chimeras were but a few of the magical beasts that now existed as a result of magical experimentation. She didn't need a hybrid that bred true; she only needed it to survive out of the womb for a few months. Bellatrix triple checked the brimstone set in the grooves in the ground, to make sure it was spread as evenly as possible.
"It is a great honour, what he's asked me to do," she thought, trying to convince herself, "I will carry the Dark Lord's soul within my body and give rise to his rebirth, bringing him back into this world. Then I will conduct the ritual to restore him fully to life. Surely nothing could show my devotion more completely, surely he will take me as his queen afterwards..."
Bellatrix did her best to still her apprehension of the task before her as she glanced over her shoulder at the winged reptilian beast tethered to a nearby tree. The thought of encouraging this thing to mount and mate with her… she swallowed and took an unsteady breath.
"The Dark Lord was insistent," she thought, "a thestral is best suited for its association with Death, and the act must be completed as close to midnight as possible."
She'd cast several spells and taken several potions already, both to prepare her body physically to be able to accept the hybrid, and to make herself desirable to the creature once she released it and admitted it to the wards, but there was nothing she could do to prepare her mind for going through with the profane act.
The time drew near, and with a wave of her wand, Bellatrix ignited the seven large red and black candles around the edge of the circle, casting eerie shadows on the trees around her. Although the temperature inside the wards was warmer than the frigid December night air outside of them, Bellatrix still shivered as she felt a pulse of magic from the circle. She dipped a hand into the pocket of her robes and withdrew the Stone, turning it over three times.
"Lord Voldemort," she thought. The familiar shadow slithered into existence, appearing by a candle and looking oddly out of place near the source of light.
"Good, Bella," the Shadow whispered, inspecting the circle, "have you prepared yourself as I instructed?"
"I have, my Lord," Bellatrix replied.
"I long for the day when I can hold you in my embrace again," the Shadow whispered, "it is time, begin the ritual."
Bellatrix made sure to keep hold of the stone as she slipped out of her clothes and shoes. Despite the wards, her nipples stiffened as they met the chilly air and the protective magic did nothing to warm the frozen ground beneath her toes. Now completely nude except for her wand and the stone, candlelight lit her body in tones of orange. Its meagre warmth pushed the cold air back ever so slightly as she stepped lightly in front of the harness that would hold her at the right height to allow the thestral to approach from behind and pump its seed into her. The potion she'd previously taken coursed through her, making her wet and ready, but she hesitated for a second, and the Dark Lord must have noticed.
"I know it is difficult, dear Bella, but soon I will be inside of you," the Shadow whispered, "do this for me, and we will forever share a bond that can never be broken. You will have all you desire, and we will live together, for all eternity."
"Yes, my Lord," Bellatrix replied, "together we will expunge the filth that has invaded our bloodlines, and build the perfect society."
"Indeed, my most loyal Bella," the Shadow replied, "our thoughts have ever aligned on this. When I first met you, you were but a child, but even then I knew you would become my greatest disciple, and tonight, I will once again be proven correct."
Bellatrix couldn't help but grin at the Dark Lord's praise as she clambered into the harness and lay forward, the thick cloth stretched beneath her supporting her weight. The smile stayed despite the extremely vulnerable position she lay in, bent over and hanging in the harness, ankles looped through rope and feet braced against wooden posts driven two feet into the ground. Beneath her, brimstone lay dormant in the rune engraved on the frozen ground, one of the Dark Lord's own invention. At the completion of the ritual, the sulfur would ignite and transfer the rune to her, branding itself onto her stomach.
"Soon it will all be over and we can have revenge against the mudbloods and blood traitors," she thought, "great magic requires great sacrifice; only a truly pureblooded witch or wizard could have conceived of magic such as this, the blackest of the Dark Arts."
"Can you believe those stupid blood traitors think you're a half-blood," she murmured to herself.
"Yes," the Shadow whispered quietly.
"My lord?" Bellatrix asked, thinking perhaps she'd missed something while musing.
"It is not important," the Shadow replied, "open the wards."
"Yes, my Lord," Bellatrix replied, glancing over her shoulder to aim her wand properly and dismantling a small section of the wards protecting the ritual circle. A few small circular waves saw the rope tethering the thestral to the tree untied and drop to the ground, and she turned to face forward again. Several long sniffs reached her ears as it approached, no doubt sensing the secretions from the potion meant to mimic a female thestral in heat. Its instinct would drive it forward to where she waited.
"Not long now," she thought, the light of the candles beneath her forming after images on her retinas.
Something about the Dark Lord's response wriggled around in her brain though. The Dark Lord had answered her spoken question. Bellatrix thought back.
"Have I ever asked a question directly?" she thought. She couldn't think of a single instance over the past month.
"My Lord," Bellatrix said as the thestral stepped closer, sniffing and making 'whuff' sounds, only a few feet away.
"Soon it will be over, my sweet, sweet Bella," the Shadow whispered.
Her breathing quickened with apprehension, but not for the reason the Dark Lord would think.
"Ask him a question, any question," Bellatrix thought.
"How did Harry Potter survive your attack as a baby?" she blurted out.
The Shadow hissed.
"The broodmare of a mother of his chose to sacrifice herself in protection of the child, invoking an ancient blood magic and providing him with protection," the Shadow replied, "do not speak of this again."
"He answered," she thought, "but that doesn't prove anything. I have to ask another, quickly."
She looked down to see the thestral's clawed feet positioned directly behind her now, and she felt its hot breath as it sniffed her backside. Her stomach twisted at the thought of it penetrating her.
"Now or never," she thought.
"Are you compelled to answer my questions truthfully?" Bellatrix asked.
"Yesss," the Shadow hissed, "the ritual, Bella, there is no time!"
"Forgive me my Lord, I must know," Bellatrix said, twisting about and hitting the thestral square in the chest with a full-body-bind before it went any further.
"What are you doing?" the Shadow hissed.
She levitated the winged creature a few feet away and set it down. Holding the stone in one hand she breathed deeply. If she was wrong, the Dark Lord might not forgive her, but given the circumstances, if he truly did feel the same way about her as she did him, he would. This question, this question was sacrilege to ask, but she had to know.
"Are you pure blooded?" she asked.
"No, my father was a filthy muggle, so I murdered him," the Shadow replied.
"It's true!" she thought. Bellatrix started to hyperventilate, breaths coming short and fast as she placed an elbow against the harness to steady herself. A sense of revulsion swept through her; she'd pledged her undying love to a half-blood! The Dark Lord was hissing something about having expunged the tainted blood from his body, but her own thoughts drowned out whatever it was.
"They were right about that… but if they were right about that…" she thought, "if he could lie so convincingly about that…"
"Do you love me?" she whispered, nausea sweeping through her.
"No," the Shadow replied, "love is weakness."
The answer hit her like a punch to the gut, and she doubled over in the harness but refused to cry.
"Enough questions! Complete the ritual and you shall have all that you desire, so says Lord Voldemort!" the Shadow said, expanding in size, yet somehow diminished.
"Perhaps the Dark Lord merely admires me?" she thought, "ask another way, Bella."
"What are your feelings towards me?" Bellatrix asked, almost choking on the words.
"You are a useful and capable tool, but one that must be kept on a tight leash, so that your loyalty never wavers," the Shadow replied, followed by a long, frustrated hiss.
Bellatrix froze. A useful tool. Kept on a tight leash. She almost couldn't believe the words, and she wouldn't have if it were anyone else who told her. But they came from the Dark Lord himself, compelled to truth by the power of the Resurrection Stone.
"No," she whispered.
"Bella, complete the ritual, we shall rule together," the Shadow hissed.
She looked down at the undulating darkness, clearly agitated as it twisted across the forest floor. The Stone gave her power to discern the Dark Lord's intentions, she'd be a fool not to use them.
"What are you plans for me after you've regained your body?" she asked.
"I will extract the secret of how you survived and created this new and younger body your soul now inhabits, then I will destroy you," the Shadow replied, hissing and railing impotently.
"You fucking bastard!" Bellatrix shrieked, dropping down from the harness, her bare feet landing inside the ritual circle again.
"He doesn't love me, I'm just a tool to him, he doesn't care about me, he was using me all along, he doesn't love me, I'm just a tool to him, he doesn't care about me, he was using me all along," she thought, "he's going to KILL me!"
The words went round and round in her head, until she realized she was screaming and raving at the trees, the wards showing glowing blue spiderweb cracks where she'd damaged them with her spells. She stopped, panting with the exertion of her rage.
"Control yourself, finish the ritual! Lord Voldemort commands you!" the Shadow hissed.
She looked up to see the thestral, still bound.
"I'll finish it alright," she thought.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" she shouted, channelling her rage and betrayal, and the burst of green light snuffed out the life force of the thestral, dropping it to the ground in a heap of limbs and wings.
"No!" the Shadow hissed, "You stupid whore!"
"I loved you! I fucking did everything for you!" Bellatrix screamed, "I went to Azkaban, I killed for you, I tortured for you! I died for you!"
The Shadow hissed something at her but she couldn't hear it. She paused, lower lip trembling. Another thought occurred to her, a conversation she'd had over a month ago.
"I killed my own father for you, I murdered my niece and my cousin for you! My entire house is destroyed because of you!" she screamed, spittle flying from her mouth, "you're not even pureblooded, you… you, you half-blood filth!"
"Just like Harry Potter," a little voice that sounded remarkably like Ginny Weasley said inside her head, "just like Albus Dumbledore, just like Gellert Grindelwald."
"Fuck them, there's plenty of magic in this pure-blooded witch," Bellatrix thought.
She looked down at the ritual circle and pointed her wand. The Shadow hissed something but she couldn't understand or comprehend what it was saying.
"Expulso," she said.
Blue light flashed from her wand, brilliant as a bolt of lightning, fuelled by her raging emotions. With a loud bang, the forest floor the ritual circle sat upon exploded, throwing up a ton of dirt, stones, sulphur, tree roots and candle wax. Detritus rained down around her and impacted the ground nearby for a time after the light faded, and the smell of rotten eggs reached her nostrils from the brimstone.
The light had gone out of her world, leaving her lost and alone in the darkness. Where blind infatuation once lit her heart with an incandescent blaze, now only cold, black despair remained.
"I hate you," she sniffed, running her hand over her stomach, thinking of how close she'd come to having the Dark Lord's brand upon her skin, "I hate you and…"
Her expression hardened.
"Now I will destroy the stone," she thought.
She tossed the stone onto the ground, causing the Shadow to vanish, and aimed her wand carefully. She didn't know if fiendfyre would work, but it probably would.
"Can I control it?" she thought, then, "do I even care if it consumes me now?"
"Venor Ambusto…." she said, the first two-thirds of the incantation, but with her wand raised she paused. Magic ran in her blood; magic was who she was. Magic was what elevated her above animals and muggles. Even now it sang in her veins and called to her to finish the incantation and release it from its chains. Destroying an artifact of such power… the wrongness of it struck her.
"I could speak to Reggie again," she thought, "and Mother…"
Slowly, she lowered her wand, then knelt to pick up the stone. She stood up, not bothering to brush the dirt from her knee, and walked back on frozen feet to her discarded clothing. In a daze, she pulled her socks on first, then awkwardly slipped her limbs back into her clothes, not bothering to tuck her shirt, button her robe, or affix her tie. Her hands trembled as the stone went back into her silk pouch, nestled in the inside pocket of her robes. She left the wards to fade on their own.
Unimaginable pain, raw and fresh, stabbed her heart like a dagger, and tears splashed onto clothing and dirt as she walked back to the nearest path.
"A cutting curse to the neck would end it quickly; it would hurt for a moment, then it wouldn't hurt anymore," she thought, but the idea of her hot steaming blood spilling out and freezing on the ground for someone to find made her stop before she even brought her wand to her neck. She stumbled over a root but kept moving.
"I'm alone, completely alone," she thought, "nobody even knows I'm alive, and even if they did, they'd want to kill me or throw me in prison. And it's all my fault. I did it, I ruined my whole life, and the lives of my family, and countless others, because I believed a lie."
She walked with her head down, breaths puffing out in the crisp cold air, not even bothering to keep watch in the dangerous Forbidden Forest. She almost hoped something would come to put her out of her misery, but nothing did. Her legs carried her successfully through the trees and across the grassy castle grounds, back to the lit windows of Hogwarts. Her heart seemed to alternate beats between wanting to live or die, but in between envisioning herself slicing her neck with a dagger or throwing herself off the Astronomy Tower or hanging herself off the bridge, more and more she felt one thing more keenly than anything else: she didn't want to be alone. She paused at the window above the courtyard and her thoughts turned to the bushy haired mudblood she'd spent so much time getting close to.
"I know Hermione at least, she'll… maybe she can…" Bellatrix thought, the mental thread stuttering out unfinished.
Slipping inside the castle, she stumbled through the corridors and descended into the dungeons where they'd spent hours upon hours together. Bellatrix had broken her promise to return to the project, but perhaps Hermione wouldn't throw her out; she desperately needed human contact right now.
"I have nowhere else to go," she thought as she crossed the threshold of the potions lab. Hermione stood hunched over a bubbling cauldron, hair as out of control as ever, robe already discarded and slung over one of the stools, carefully stirring and noting her results on a muggle notepad next to her. She glanced down and back, probably identifying Julia by her shoes as the door opened, then looked back to the brew.
"So, look who finally decided to show up. It's only been a month," Hermione said.
"I-," Julia whispered, unable to get any words out.
Hermione set the stirrer down.
"Well? Do you think you can just sashay back in here like-" Hermione started, but she stopped short when she turned to face the door, locked eyes with Julia, and noticed her shattered appearance. Hermione's mouth dropped open and her annoyed expression immediately gave way to shock and concern.
"What happened?" she asked.
A sob caught in Bellatrix's chest, but she forced herself not to break down again. Hermione ripped her goggles off and was by her side in an instant but stopped short, taking in Julia's untucked clothing.
"Did someone hurt you?" she asked.
Bellatrix managed a nod, and Hermione pulled her into a gentle embrace. Something as simple as a hug brought sobs so powerful they rendered her incapable of speech. Here she was, showing up after a month of blowing her off and secretly plotting to kill her friends, and Hermione instantly dropped what she was doing to comfort her. And Bellatrix was lying to her. Her entire existence was a lie. She clutched onto the back of Hermione's robes like a drowning witch would a lifeline in a stormy sea. Heavy sobs wracked her body and she cried for the love she'd lost, she cried for the betrayal she'd suffered, and she cried for the ordeal she'd nearly subjected herself to earlier that same night. All along, Hermione stroked her back and murmured encouraging sounds or phrases into her ear. Finally, physically spent but still hiccupping, Julia pushed back and stared at the wet spot on Hermione's robes. Her wand dropped into her hand.
"Scourgify, aquosiccin," she muttered, more or less cleaning up the mess.
"Are you… injured?" Hermione asked.
Julia understood the meaning of her question, and shook her head silently. Hermione breathed a small sigh of relief.
"What happened?" Hermione asked.
How to even begin answering a question like that? Bellatrix looked down at the floor of the potions lab then into Hermione's eyes, the light brown orbs worried with genuine concern. For one crazy second, Bellatrix considered coming completely clean with Hermione, telling her everything.
"At first she wouldn't believe me," Julia thought, "then I would untie the glamour, and then…"
And then Hermione would either curse her or run to alert the authorities, and Bellatrix would be alone forever, on the run, always looking over her shoulder for the Aurors sure to be on her trail to throw her into Azkaban, or worse, send her to be Kissed. She shook her head.
"It's okay. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Hermione said, and Julia realized she'd been waiting for a response for some time. She felt she had to give her something, some nugget of truth.
"I thought he loved me," she whispered, nearly breaking down again at the admission, but forced herself to swallow and steady herself on a nearby table.
"Who?" Hermione asked, "I didn't even know you were seeing anyone."
"My…. ex," Julia replied, "ex-fiancé."
Hermione's eyes flicked to Julia's left hand, and the bare finger there.
"You were engaged?" Hermione asked, reaching to the wall to pick up a clean cloth off a hook and pass it to Julia as tears dripped anew.
"Betrothed," Julia replied, keeping to the same story she'd told Neville.
She wiped her face and blew her nose, tear ducts in pain from overuse.
"But I loved him deeply," she forced herself to say over the pain in her chest, coming again in waves, "with everything I had… and tonight I found out... and it's over."
"Found out what? Is that where you've been all this time, with your fiancé?" Hermione asked.
Bellatrix nodded.
"He's not here, we found a way to speak to each other," she replied, weaving truth with her lies, "but he let something slip and… it all came undone."
Bellatrix paused. She tried to think of a story that would make sense, but came up short.
"It's complicated, and painful, and…he lied to me for years and…he used me, and my feelings for him. And…" Julia said, "and I'm such an idiot."
She buried her face in the cloth and squeezed her eyes shut.
"I murdered Father for the Dark Lord," she thought. If she hadn't done that, would there even have been a Wizarding War in the first place? Would the House of Black still stand as a pillar of wizarding society? Who knew how events might have played out; even now she had no idea of what had actually happened in those early days.
"Stop that," Hermione said, putting her hand on her shoulder. Bellatrix looked up at her, vision blurry again.
"I don't know the details but… you're a brilliant witch," Hermione said.
Bellatrix snorted and blinked a few times.
"You are," Hermione said, "and your ex, whatever he did, it's not your fault."
The Dark Lord had destroyed her life, but deep down she knew it wasn't only Lord Voldemort's fault; no doubt she'd made her own decisions every step of the way to aid him however she could, just like she'd almost done again tonight.
"What am I without the Dark Lord?" she thought.
Bellatrix felt like an empty discarded shell. She walked and talked, but inside it was as if she were an imitation of a real person, one with no real substance, a glamoured exterior with nothing of worth beneath.
"What was his name?" Hermione asked.
Bellatrix sniffled. What could she say? Then she hit upon the perfect answer.
"Thomas," she replied.
"Well, whatever he did, Thomas is an asshat," Hermione said, "I can say that without a doubt. You're a good witch Julia, and you're better off without him."
"I don't even know who I am without him," Bellatrix thought.
"I don't even… sorry for leaving you like that for so long," Julia said, "I'll come back, if you still want me that is."
Hermione paused and for a second Bellatrix thought she might decline, but then she nodded her head.
"Of course," Hermione said, "but it's past midnight now, umm… do you need anything? Food?"
Bellatrix shook her head.
"Alright, let me clean up and then we can try to sleep. You'll feel better in the morning," Hermione said.
"I'll help," Julia said.
Busying herself with tidying the potions lab helped take her mind off the events of the night. Afterwards, they headed across the hall to wash up, and Bellatrix stepped into one of the shower stalls to strip off her clothing and stand under the scalding stream of water for an almost inappropriately long time. The dirt of the forest and the stink of thestral pheromones washed down into the drain, and she left her hair slightly damp as she changed into her purple nightgown and slippers. She emerged from the lab to find Hermione waiting patiently for her.
"Feel better?" Hermione asked.
Bellatrix nodded in response. The potions she'd taken earlier were starting to make her lightheaded, and the hallway twisted and spun as they returned to the lab. Hermione caught her arm and steadied her as she stumbled.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
Bellatrix nodded.
"Exhausted," Julia replied.
They walked the rest of the way with Bellatrix letting Hermione lead her by the elbow back to the tent, and she practically fell into her bunk while Hermione changed into her nightclothes and slipped into her own bed.
"Julia?" Hermione said, and Julia hmm'ed in response.
"At the risk of sounding cliché, he's the one who lost out on an amazing witch," Hermione said, "whatever he did, I'm glad you got away from him. I'll see you in the morning."
Bellatrix smiled wryly at the words she knew were meant to try and cheer her up, but the warm feelings turned bitter at the thought that it was all a show, that even now she was being dishonest about who she really was.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
Bellatrix expected to crash into sleep straight away, but the combination of potions only made her feel dizzy and a bit outside herself, not drowsy. She lay on her back and stared at the bunk above her as it whirled about, her body occasionally swaying slightly in response to the vertigo.
"What am I going to do?" she thought. With the Dark Lord's betrayal, Bellatrix felt utterly bereft of purpose. Her entire existence since she'd awoken in the vault, indeed, even for some years before that, was to create the perfect world side by side with him, a righteous world governed by those pure of blood and magic.
"Well that's all gone to shit now, the bastard wasn't even pureblood," she thought, "perhaps I could do it on my own…"
It would be an uphill battle. Many of the older and more traditional families had been wiped out or severely thinned by the two conflicts, her own among them. The ones that remained were putting as much distance between themselves and pureblood ideology as they could. They wouldn't do anything, not even covertly, much less publicly, to even appear to backtrack that without a strong reason for doing so.
"At the end of the day though, when all was said and done, we lost," she thought, "we lost twice. If purity and magic were truly tied strongly together, we should have won, would have won, easily."
With none of the most powerful wizards in the past half-century being pureblood, it seemed the entire premise might be built on a foundation of sand anyway. Bellatrix shed another tear, this one falling back to land on her pillow next to her ear.
"The mudbloods are still weaker than purebloods and half-bloods," she thought, clinging to what she could. Then she recalled the conversation with Ginny Weasley on the way back from the quidditch pitch, not long ago.
"Hermione?" Julia whispered.
"Hmm?" Hermione replied. It seemed Bellatrix wasn't the only one unable to sleep.
"Just a thought, are you secretly pureblood, or half-blood?" Julia asked.
"Probably shouldn't have just dropped it on her like that," she thought, but her mind was feeling fuzzy and she'd spoken without thinking.
"What?" Hermione replied, "no, of course not, why would you…?"
"Are you certain?" Julia asked, turning to face across the tent. She couldn't really make out any details, but she could see the outline of Hermione's silhouette as she lay in the bunk.
"Yes, I'm quite certain, considering I stumbled on my birth video when I was nine," she replied, "it's seared into my memory."
She paused for a second but Julia wasn't really sure what a video was, so she missed her chance to speak.
"You thought there's no way a muggleborn could be as clever as I am, is it?" Hermione asked, offense giving her voice an edge.
"It's just… you have to understand, we purebloods-" Julia said.
"Let me guess, dirty blood, stolen magic," Hermione said, interrupting, more than a little disdain and venom seeping through.
"That's not it," Julia said.
"Not entirely anyway," she thought.
"I'm sure you've noticed, all the muggleborns struggle," Julia said, "all except you."
"That's because I work at it, deliberately," Hermione said, her voice rising, "you only see the end result, but you don't see all the planning, revision, and practise that goes into it. It's not easy to make up the whole decade of knowledge non-muggleborns learned before coming to Hogwarts. Did you know I read through all my textbooks from front to back before the first day of class, every year? While others were off playing exploding snap or… snogging, or doing Merlin knows what, I was in the library, learning, or putting together revision plans, or trying to figure out a way to stay one step ahead of Tom bloody Riddle."
Hermione stopped her rant there, breathing hard, and Julia heard her consciously slow them.
"Sorry I brought it up," Julia said, "Thomas suggested it…"
Lies upon lies.
"I don't think you're secretly half-blood, or pureblood," Julia added, "he was wrong about you."
Bellatrix heard and saw Hermione turn to face her, though she still couldn't make out any features.
"Just how far down the pureblood supremacy road was your family?" Hermione asked.
Bellatrix swallowed. How much to tell her?
"All the way," she whispered, "before they died, all the way."
"And you bought into it?" Hermione asked.
"Still do, mostly," Julia thought.
"I suppose," she replied.
"Probably should caveat that," she thought.
"When you know nothing else.." she added.
"I had no idea. Why did you become friends with me in the first place then?" Hermione asked.
"Because I wanted to get close to you so you'd trust me enough to bring me to Harry Potter, so I could kill all three of you," she thought.
Bellatrix sighed heavily.
"I don't know," she replied, "honestly, my father… he was strict. If he found out I'd befriended a.. someone like you, he'd… well, the punishment would have been severe."
Bellatrix thought back to Andy. According to Kreacher, she'd been cast out of the family for running off with a mudblood.
"Father likely never got ahold of her after he found out," she thought. She shuddered to think at what he would have done to her.
"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered.
"What are you apologising for?" Julia asked.
"That you had to grow up living with someone like that, who would punish you for making friends with the wrong person," Hermione replied.
Bellatrix twisted a bit of her sheet around her finger.
"I don't know anything different, so…" Julia replied.
"Why bring it up all of a sudden -oh," Hermione said, probably thinking it had something to do with the 'breakup'.
She fell quiet and the silence stretched. Again, in the darkness of the tent, Bellatrix felt she could confide anything. Perhaps it was the potions making her lightheaded, or perhaps it was the emotional trauma she'd been through earlier.
"You're not at all what I expected, you know," Julia whispered.
She heard Hermione chuckle softly.
"And what did you expect?" she asked.
"An annoying and arrogant muggleborn war hero," Julia replied, "but you're not. You're odd. You go out of your way to try and help people, even when they can't do anything for you."
"Flattery will get you nowhere Miss White," Hermione said, but Julia could hear her smile, "anyway, I could say the same thing about you. You helped that first year Slytherin, and Michaels, and you didn't get anything out of that."
"I got closer to you," Bellatrix thought.
"I suppose," Julia replied.
A few more moments passed where Bellatrix heard nothing but breathing and her own heartbeat.
"I know it might seem like the end of the world, and you'll never be happy again, but I promise it'll get better," Hermione said, "let's do something after classes let out for the holiday to try and get your mind off it, alright?"
Bellatrix knew Hermione had exactly zero first-hand experience with even the first tendril of what she was feeling right now. Still, the little mudblood didn't have to do anything at all, and given how focused on the project she was, Bellatrix was surprised she even offered.
"Perhaps she's trying to make me feel better," she thought, but Bellatrix couldn't stomach the thought of being polite around other people right now.
"I wouldn't mind just working in the lab, honestly," Julia said.
She heard more than saw Hermione nod.
"Are you staying over Christmas?" Hermione asked.
Ugh.
"Bollocks," Julia replied, "I haven't got anyone gifts. Erm, yes, I haven't really anywhere to go."
"Me either. I mean me too," Hermione said, "That is… gifts have been done for weeks now, but I'll only have a dinner or two, that's all. The rest of the time I'll be here. I'm sure we can find something to occupy us, and there's still plenty of work that needs to be done for the project."
"There are worse things in life," Bellatrix thought.
"I have nowhere else to be," Julia said.
Hermione yawned.
"It'll be good to have someone to spend time with," she said, "but we have class tomorrow, and I really need to sleep now."
They said their goodnights and Bellatrix listened to Hermione's breathing until she too eventually dropped off.
The following morning, Bellatrix opened her eyes to a gentle buzzing that gradually grew louder and more insistent until Hermione cancelled the alarm charm.
"Good morning," Hermione said, stifling a yawn as she sat up and looked over, "how do you feel?"
Bellatrix's eyes still hurt and there was crust on her face from where she'd wept overnight, and her entire body ached, like she'd been hit with a few bludgeoning curses and hadn't quite healed right.
"Like shit," she replied.
Hermione chuckled at the expletive.
"I meant, do you feel better than last night?" Hermione asked with a smile.
Actually, Bellatrix did feel somewhat better, if only because she narrowly avoided bringing back to life a monster who she'd misguidedly devoted her soul to. She nodded mutely.
Hermione took a deep breath.
"Good, I'm hungry, let's eat," she said.
They dressed quickly and Bellatrix went through the motions of preparing for the day, but her mind was elsewhere. As she spooned scrambled eggs into her mouth and chewed mechanically, she reflected on how bizarre the past twelve hours had been.
"It's almost too easy to slip back into this persona," she thought.
She took a sip of orange juice and swished it around, tapping her fingernails on the table as she mulled her options.
"Maybe I could say screw it all, stay Julia White forever," she thought, "it'd be living a lie, but what's the alternative?"
She looked up at Hermione, who caught her gaze and gave her a polite smile before going back to eating and looking over some notes.
Bellatrix sighed.
"The only regret would be never seeing Andy and Cissy again," Bellatrix thought. The notion left her torn. She'd always been close with Andromeda; they were nearer in age, after all, and her sister shared the same sharp wit. Before she woke up in the vault, they'd been spending more time together, chatting about other students, who would be betrothed to whom, and occasionally arguing over borrowed clothing. Andy had been preparing for OWLs, and Bellatrix, despite having read the history and hearing it from Kreacher, couldn't fathom falling out with her sister over anything.
"Stupid, how could she have fallen for a mudblood?" Bellatrix thought, her heart sinking again as she recalled she'd supposedly killed Andy's daughter, "that probably puts any kind of reconciliation out of the question."
"Cissy though," she thought, "maybe I could somehow contact Cissy. She knows how to keep a secret, and then at least there'd be something…"
Bellatrix sleep walked through classes, not participating at all. It wasn't as if she cared about scoring house points, and Christmas holidays were right around the corner anyway. Far more interesting was Hermione Granger, the swotty mudblood who, even now, continued to be the first to raise her hand to answer whenever any professor posed a question to the class, and who'd allowed Julia to join her project to bring the impossible to fruition.
"What if we actually do it?" Bellatrix thought, as she watched Hermione provide yet another perfect textbook response, "what if we actually cure obliviation? We'd be famous, well, more famous in Hermione's case. And rich. And known for something good."
More and more it was looking like she could simply continue on with this identity she'd created. The pain of Lord Voldemort's betrayal still hurt immensely, but it wasn't the impaled-heart kind of agony she'd felt the previous night. She looked at Hermione across the table at dinner and shook her head. The Golden Girl had her nose stuck in a book, again.
"I can tell you're watching me, you know," Hermione said, looking up with a knowing smirk, "but at least you're not staring off into space anymore. How are you feeling?"
"Better, mostly," Julia replied, wanting to change the subject, "how's the project going, what did I miss?"
Hermione nodded and gave a half-smile, half-grimace.
"It's going well. As you know, we won't be able to heal the damaged memories, so we'll have to de-age them to a point before they were erased. I've started on the Arithmancy for the charm, but it needs to be integrated with the formulae for the potion and nearly every variable affects nearly every other variable to some degree," Hermione said, her expression dropping and hints of frustration creeping into her voice, "and there's a lot of experimentation still to be done for the potion to find the most efficient brew, so it's complicated… plenty of work to do."
Hermione frowned at that and stabbed a carrot with an audible *clink*.
"Well, I need a distraction," Julia said, "let's get back to it."
They returned to the lab and set up their stations without speaking, almost as if nothing had changed in the past month. Hermione'd made significant advances in the potions testing, but Bellatrix quickly saw where progress had slowed due to her absence. She resolved to do what she could to bring them back ahead of schedule again. Bellatrix didn't feel much in the mood to say anything, so she kept her mouth shut as the potions bubbled and they took turns chopping, crushing, or grinding. Apparently, Hermione either felt the same way or somehow understood Julia didn't want to talk, they worked in companionable silence until nearly midnight. As they cleaned up the day's work and Bellatrix noted her results down in the same black journal as before, it felt more and more natural that this was the path she wanted to take.
The following day, Ginny joined them for breakfast. With the Express scheduled to leave Hogsmeade station later that morning, it would be the last time they saw her until the new year.
"These are for you, Merry Christmas," Ginny said, passing over a wrapped red and gold present for each of them. Hermione's looked like a card, and Julia's was a medium sized box, perhaps a foot across. Hermione opened her mokeskin pouch and passed a rectangular gift, obviously a book, back to Ginny.
"Sorry Ginny, I got distracted and I'm still working on your gift," Julia said, slumping down in her seat, "I'll have it for you when you're back from holiday."
"Oh," Ginny said, pausing just a moment too long, "no worries. Merry Christmas, see you next year."
The redhead gave Hermione a hug but as she departed for the main entrance, Hermione stood up again.
"Ginny," she called, walking swiftly after her friend as Ginny turned. They spoke a few words quietly and Ginny's eyes flicked to Julia for a split-second before moving back to Hermione.
"Hi Julia," Neville said, sitting down in Hermione's seat, "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Neville," Julia replied.
He passed a small box to her, and she tested the texture of the wrapping paper under her fingers.
"Go on, open it, but don't turn it over," he said.
Julia looked down at the gift and tore off the wrap, then lifted the lid of the box beneath. A small potted plant greeted her, little more than a green stem and a few leaves with a closed bud at the top. When she pulled it up out of the box though, the leaves rustled a bit and the bud turned towards the lights on the ceiling, unfurling into a beautiful red rose.
"You like it? It closes up at night and opens again every morning," Neville said.
"It's lovely," Bellatrix said, staring at the perfectly shaped rose, "thank you Neville."
"Hello Neville," Hermione said as she returned.
"Merry Christmas Hermione, I grew one for you too. Go on, open it," he said, passing another box to Hermione. As she pulled the pot up out of the box the flower opened and Julia noted its vibrant yellow colour.
"Thank you Neville, it's beautiful," Hermione said.
She reached into her mokeskin pouch and produced a gift-wrapped book, which she passed over to Neville.
"Sorry Neville, I still need to wrap yours," Julia said.
Neville didn't seem to mind at all.
"Looking forward to it," he replied, "don't forget to water those, at least once a week. I'll see you both after Christmas."
Neville's gaze lingered on Julia just a second longer than necessary as they said their goodbyes and she forced a smile in response, waving to him as he departed. After finishing up breakfast, Hermione and Bellatrix buttoned up their winter coats and braved the biting cold wind to walk just beyond the school's wards to apparate to Diagon Alley. Holiday crowds thronged the shops on one of the last shopping days before Christmas. With the screaming children and irate shoppers already annoying her before they'd even set foot in the first store, Bellatrix went on a mission to complete her purchases as quickly as possible. The constant whispers, pointed fingers, and some outright stares at Hermione didn't make things any more comfortable, and Bellatrix frowned her way down the Alley.
For Neville she picked up a set of silver shears, perfect for harvesting reagents, and which would have the dual use of helping with their project. Next, they stopped by Flourish and Blott's; the old bell rang exactly as Julia remembered as they pushed inside and the familiar smell of parchment and leather filled her nostrils.
"Do you know if they have books on contract law?" Julia asked.
"This way," Hermione replied, ignoring a few young wizards pointing in her direction and expertly navigating through the shop, leading Bellatrix to a shelf near the back, "why contract law?"
Bellatrix scanned the spines, pulling a dark blue book triumphantly and passing it to Hermione, who scanned through the first few pages.
"This is for navigating professional sports contracts," Hermione said.
"For Ginny," Julia replied.
"Oh, good idea," Hermione said, her face brightening up. She glanced around the shelves, shuffling over a bit to let another patron pass by.
"So… I can wait outside if you need to buy my gift and have it wrapped," Hermione said, returning the book to Julia.
"Oh, I already know what I'm going to give you," Julia replied, shifting Ginny's gift to carry it under one arm, "I don't need to buy it."
"Really," Hermione said, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes slightly in thought.
"I'm not telling and you'll never guess, so don't bother trying," Julia said.
This was, apparently, the exact wrong thing to say, because the next twenty minutes were a non-stop barrage of guesses and stumped hmm's from the bushy haired muggleborn as Bellatrix made her purchase and waited for the book to be wrapped. The guesses continued out the door and down the street as they hunted for a place to eat that wasn't thronged with shoppers with the same idea.
"Merlin's beard Hermione," Julia said after what was probably the sixtieth guess, "I swear I'm reconsidering staying at school."
"If you told me what it is, you won't have to tolerate my asking anymore," Hermione replied with a smirk.
"I'm not above hexing you, golden girl or not," Julia said, "all these gawkers can sod off though," she muttered under her breath.
"I probably should have worn a disguise," Hermione muttered back in agreement.
A flash went off in Bellatrix's face and she looked over to see a middle-aged photographer in a brown coat standing next to a somehow familiar middle-aged blonde woman with a purple dress and bright green glasses, a sheet of parchment and a quill hovering next to her. A tendril of smoke curled up from the photographer's camera as he lined up for a second shot of Hermione.
"Honestly Skeeter, I leave school for one day to go Christmas shopping and you're here waiting for me," Hermione said, "are you stalking me?"
Rita Skeeter. Bellatrix remembered her from Hogwarts; they shared a dorm down in the dungeons. She'd started a school newspaper and ran around starting gossip about other students or professors, desperately trying to make a name for herself and gain some respect among the purebloods of their year. She never wrote any stories about her, because that would have gotten her stupid face cursed in several times over. Besides, that kind of respect couldn't be earned; either one was brought up properly, or not. During her confinement in the sub-vault, Bellatrix had read through several Prophet articles written by Skeeter, and deemed them all functionally worthless.
"A good reporter never reveals her sources, Miss Granger," Skeeter replied, "out for some last-minute shopping? Who are you purchasing a gift for, Harry Potter perhaps? Does Miss Weasley have competition?"
"No comment," Hermione replied, pursing her lips.
Another flash went off and Hermione winced.
"And who is your friend, also a student at Hogwarts?" Skeeter asked, switching to Bellatrix.
"Don't answer, she'll only twist whatever you say," Hermione said.
Rita Skeeter gasped in faux outrage.
"Slander," Skeeter said, pointing a finger at Hermione.
"It's only slander if it isn't true," Julia fired back.
A third flash went off and Bellatrix noticed Hermione blinked a few times and looked a bit disoriented when she opened her eyes.
"No more photos," Julia said, stepping in front of Hermione and holding up a hand in front of the camera, the other tensed to flick her wand out if she needed to.
"It's a public street," the photographer said, "I can take as many photos as I like."
"Maybe, but you won't if you like your camera in one piece," Julia said.
"You can try, but I'll have you arrested," the photographer replied, lining up for another shot.
"You're going to report me, a student, to the Aurors?" Julia asked, "all I have to do is tell them and everyone else who will listen you shouldn't have been trying to sneak pictures of our knickers, you pervy old git."
The camera stayed silent.
"Ohh, this one has some spice in her," Skeeter said with a wolfish grin as she stepped forward, quick-quotes quill already scribbling furiously, "our readers would love to hear about the Golden Girl's new friend. What's your name, my lovely little firecracker?"
"What's that? I hear something buzzing," Bellatrix said, putting a hand to her ear and turning to Hermione, "do you hear a buzzing? It almost sounds like a blood sucking mosquito."
Skeeter's mouth dropped open in shock, and Bellatrix smirked, it was almost too easy.
"How did you.." Skeeter said, "how dare you!"
"Bugger off now, little Skeeter, before you get yourself slapped," Bellatrix said, making a shoo'ing motion with one hand.
"Who are you?" Rita asked, her white face turning a shade of pink where makeup didn't cover.
"Buzz buzz buzz, that's all I hear, someone get me a Skeeter repellent charm," Bellatrix replied loudly, "come on Hermione, let's go."
She grabbed Hermione's arm and side-alonged with her back to the gates of Hogwarts. Hermione stumbled as they landed, bent over with hands on knees.
"Agh, warn me next time," she said, steading herself and shaking off the nauseating effects of side-along.
"Sorry," Julia said, "are you alright?"
Hermione stood up straight took a deep breath and looked around the Scottish countryside, then nodded.
"Better than I was, thank you," she said.
Bellatrix nodded.
"That was impressive; I've never seen anyone get under Skeeter's skin like that," Hermione said, grinning, "mosquito, that's brilliant."
Bellatrix smirked. It was their favourite taunt down in the dungeons.
"You should be careful though, she's going to be after you now," Hermione said, growing serious.
"What's she going to do? More importantly, who is going to believe her? Most of what she writes is complete rubbish," Julia replied. Hermione nodded her agreement as Julia looked around the deserted school grounds.
"I suppose it's the Great Hall for dinner again then," she said.
Hermione nodded again, and they began the trek back to the castle, Hermione mumbling 'mosquito' again under her breath and chuckling.
"Absolutely not. I'm going to prepare your gift, and it's a surprise," Julia said, pausing between two of the lab tables.
"Alright, but… where are you going to be?" Hermione asked.
"Wouldn't you like to know," Julia replied.
Hermione huffed.
"You think I really want to know that much that I can't wait two days to find out what it is?" Hermione asked.
Julia paused.
"Yes," she replied.
Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed, then paused, biting her lower lip for a second.
"Are you sure you're alright to be alone?" she asked.
Julia nodded slowly.
"I'm… fine," Julia replied.
"Alright then," Hermione said, pausing at the entrance to the tent, "but if you're not back here by midnight I'm coming to look for you."
"Yes mother," Julia said as she exited the lab. Hermione was worried about her, actually worried. It was a new feeling for Bellatrix, and oddly enough she found it touching. Someone knew she was in pain, and wanted to comfort her. Someone was thinking about her wellbeing.
"Perhaps she just wants you to help her project along," a little voice said in Bellatrix's head, but she quickly pushed it away.
Bellatrix did indeed know exactly what she intended to give to Hermione; it only required parchment and quill. First though, she had something that needed doing, and she shoved all the distracting thoughts out of her mind.
Bellatrix strode with purpose all the way up to the seventh floor, into the Room of Requirement, which prepared for her a writing desk complete with ink, quill, and parchment. She withdrew the unassuming stone from her silk pouch and turned it over three times.
"Lord Voldemort," she said.
The Shadow materialized on the wall near the desk and writhed menacingly, only to recoil slightly as she stalked towards it.
"I need to phrase the questions carefully, no room for misinterpretation," she thought.
"You're going to tell me everything you know about Arithmancy, memory charms, and spell creation," Bellatrix said. The Shadow's only response was to hiss at her in displeasure as she proceeded to ask her first question.
Chapter 17 Trigger Warning: Thoughts of Suicide