A/N
TIME FOR A WAR FICCC! Minerva's accent is heavy because I feel like in times of stress, accents come out. Enjoy! Just a short exploration. Dedicated to Chip, who is the reason this fic was born at all.
October 6th 2002
If someone had asked Ginervra Molly Weasley where her life was headed five years ago, she probably would have answered with something along the lines of completing her NEWTS, becoming the youngest HolyHead Harpies player and maybe marrying Harry if that worked out.
Never in her wildest dreams would she have thought that she would be crawling around in a cold muddy bog in the dead of night, foraging for gillyweed. George was gathering dittany somewhere nearby, and Ginny could hear Romilda Vane humming as she collected untouched dew drops into a leather satchel.
The air would have been freezing, but magic made life just a little bit easier, warming charms and even a little pepper up potion sometimes if any could be spared. Early morning foraging wasn't quite so taxing these days, at least not as bad as it had been in the early years of the war.
A sound came from the forest, alerting Ginny. Her ears pricked up, her earrings charmed with a version of Fred and Georges extendable ear charm, amplifying her hearing capabilities.
Romilda had stopped humming and was coming towards her now.
"Gin, I got the dew, so we should probably skedaddle."
"Probably." Agreed an unfamiliar voice. Ginny's heart stopped in her chest.
A silver death eater mask grinned back at her from the brush, one of the original inner circle. Not good. Several other Death Eaters emerged from the surrounding forest, cutting off any means of escape.
Ginny whipped her head around, trying in vain to find a way out, finding nothing. Despair began to build in her chest as she flung a bombarda at an approaching death eater, his head exploding in a bloodied scarlet mess, leaving nothing behind.
Next to her, Romilda caught a nasty spell to her leg and she cried out in agony as she began to petrify. Ginny couldn't tear her eyes away from her own battle, Mulciber targeting her specifically after the department of mysteries. George was fighting two Death Eaters at once, holding his own as he struck one of them down with a lethal hex.
Suddenly, she spotted a shadowy figure in the distance, and a wicked smile lifted her features.
Continuing to battle Mulciber, Ginny noted that already, the number of Death eaters surrounding them had decreased by two or three, originally perhaps there had been ten or so but now only about six remained. A hex caught her in the side and she winced, reminded of the battle, flicking to heal briefly and concentrating.
Then suddenly, Mulciber was gone.
No, not gone. He was being dragged away into the trees, screaming and kicking as the remaining Death Eaters briefly panicked. Suddenly, the shadowy figure darted out of the woods again, dodging curse after curse, striking down two death eaters in one go, coming up to duel cast with her. Ginny began to throw curses back in earnest, full of hope.
"Took you long enough. Where were you?"
Hermione wiped the blood from her mouth, a red glint in her brown honey eyes.
"Hunting. I thought I'd let you sweat it out for a while."
Another figure darted out, their face obscured completely, and tore out the final death eater's throat with their fangs, leaving a gaping hole. The death eater gasped for air, finding none, and the light left his eyes slowly, taking its time. Ginny shuddered a little, finding no pleasure in gore.
"Must you guys… y'know… fangs?"
Hermione raised an eyebrow at her. Ginny shrugged. "Had to ask."
Hermione jogged over to Romilda who was trying to heal her wounds, and cast the anti hex on her leg, trying to remove the petrification. The damage would last for weeks, and Romilda would likely have to learn to walk again. She tossed George a portkey in the form of a broken hairbrush.
"George, Romilda needs urgent care, can you escort her to the safe house in London? Grimmauld Place doesn't have the right facilities to treat her and Romilda will need weeks of care. Report back when you're done."
He caught the hairbrush with a wink. "Got it Mione, I'll escort this pretty lady to the hospital house."
Romilda rolled her eyes a little, but a small smile graced her lips. "Thanks Granger for saving our asses, have the dew."
She passed across the vial of untouched dewdrops gingerly, careful not to drop it. The portkey went off, taking George and Romilda with it. Ginny sighed, looking around.
"That's the sixth time this month alone we've been sprung."
Hermione's expression became far grimmer. "That's not all. I found these on Mulcibers person."
A stake. Ginny brushed it off.
"They know we're working with beasts, no wonder they have precautions-"
"It's cursed specifically to break through the charms I carry on my personage. This was deliberate."
Hermione cast her patronus. Her otter slipped out of her wand, swimming in the air. "Take this message to Minerva immediately: Gather Harry, Ron and the trusted selection, I have evidence this time."
Ginny watched as the Otter took off, into the trees. "Really Mione? I know this is important but is one uninterrupted night of sleep too much to ask for?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "In this economy?"
Hermione then took off running for Grimmauld Place, leaving Ginny in the dust. Ginny huffed. "Bloody theatrical vampires."
Minerva McGonagall was an old woman, somewhere in her early eighties, but in no way was she senile or slow. Her shrewd leadership was the only reason that the Order had kept itself together in the early years of the war, and she ran a tight ship.
The room was tense, only a few people present, mostly original Order members along with Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Ron.
"Yer all here then?"
Hermione took a seat, a cup of warmed cows blood clasped between her two hands, warmth radiating into her cold grip.
"Right, Hermione, why don't ye tell us why you've gathered us here bairn."
Hermione stood and cast an illusion on the blank wall, projecting an image.
"As most of you know, our magical creature task force mostly worked on scare tactics this week, targeting the Death Eaters food supply stations. The pack distracted most of them whilst our favorite bitey mole and I tried to destroy their supplies. At least this was the plan."
Hermione flicked to the next image, from her memories, depicting multiple Death Eaters in the shadows where they weren't supposed to be. "However, they were ready for us. Several members of the pack were killed and I was very nearly captured by unexpected Death Eaters guarding the food, including Rabastan Lestrange. We had to flee, and were unable to destroy even a single grain of wheat."
Hermione flicked her wand again, switching to a graph. "The amount of raid success rates over these past three months has rapidly declined, as the Death Eaters seem to know where we are whenever we make a move. I believe we have a spy, one who is aware of our every move and passing it over to them."
The silence was deafening. "Do ye have any proof?"
Hermione pursed her lips. "The expedition tonight to retrieve Gillyweed and such was met with a team ten strong of Death Eaters, including Mulciber, whom we managed to kill."
Harry swore. "What would he have been doing in the middle of nowhere?"
Ron's face was stony, his expression hard. "He knew."
Hermione's lips were set in a grim line. "That's not all. He and most of the Death Eaters we killed had spikes on them, hexed to bypass the protective charms I have in place to prevent being impaled. They knew exactly what to counter with."
Bill's face was troubled. "The charms we placed on your earrings should have only been able to be broken by four specific spells, one of which we created."
A grim silence stretched. McGonagall broke it, a stoney sound to her voice.
"I can no longer deny this. We have a mole."
The room instantly became alive with people muttering or talking in fear to one another. Minerva held up a hand for silence, and when none came, she clapped her hands together loudly. The room quieted once more, listening to her.
Minerva sighed, rubbing her temples wearily. "This fact however, must not leave this room to prevent a storm of panic jest like what heppened then. Now is not the time for deliberation and tearing our hair out; however, rest is of the essence, unless you have been called up for the night watch. Sleep well. I will gather us back together when we have more knowledge on their identity."
Ginny fell into bed within minutes of the meeting adjourning. Hermione, however, did not sleep. Being a vampire created an unfortunate relationship with sleep for Hermione, and so she slipped into the night, eager to escape her thoughts.
She began to run, into the forest, as fast as she could. She didn't need the extra protection, fangs and claws were enough to keep her safe.
She pulled her wand out and cast a patronus.
"Take this message to our mole, but only if they are alone. I need you to meet me at the wood grove. Bring no one."
Hermione's patronus took off, racing away until it could no longer be seen. Hermione picked up her pace, eager to feel her heart beating in her chest as it so rarely did these days.
She sprinted until she had reached the end of the fidelius charm, feeling a buzz as she passed the wards. The clearing seemed empty, glowing faintly, lit by luminescent mushrooms. It seemed that her patronus had not reached its intended audience, and so she was alone.
Sitting down to breathe just a little, the air was quiet. A frog was croaking his little lungs out, the only break in the silence. Wind whistled through the grove, cold against Hermione's face.
Sitting on log, Hermione opened the book she had brought with her, a trashy romance book about vampires and werewolves. Despite the stupidity of it, she found herself enjoying the book despite its inaccuracies and flaws.
However, there was some reality presented in the form of a bond formed between a newborn and their ancient sire. Hermione read on, engrossed.
May 19th, 1998
"Professor, I think you need to see this."
Minerva McGonagall, the newly appointed head of the Order, took a look at the book Hermione was holding.
"A bond Miss Granger? I'm afraid I don't follow."
Hermione read out the passage aloud.
"If a vampire is to bite another, with the intent to turn them, an unbreakable bond forms naturally, creating an inability to hurt one another throughout the newborns' early years as they learn to control their bloodlust and such. This is thought to both protect the sire vampire from damage and in extreme cases death, and to protect the newborn from accidental harm inflicted. The bond also is known to in some cases create an additional ability in the younger vampire, whom may be able to track the sire vampire."
Minerva looked at her quizzically.
"What are you implying Miss Granger?"
Hermione looked her dead in the eye. "I know who turned me. And this really isn't good. If I've formed a bond with them…"
Oh this was most definitely not good.
October 6th, 2002
Hermione was engrossed in the book, almost despite herself. It was nearing two am, and she was nearly ready to pack up and leave, assuming that her bonded was not going to show their face.
A crack of black smoke came, and solidified, almost as soon as the thought had crossed her mind. Hermione didn't even look up.
"What did your sister do to you when you were seven?"
A chuckle came from the figure.
"Andy hid a toad under my pillow, tried to blame it on Cissy but she never could lie all that well, the poor deary."
Bellatrix appeared from the shadows, her mask falling from her face. Hermione shut her book.
"Nice of you to finally show up, you old bitch."
Bellatrix stuck her tongue out in Hermione's direction. Hermione only rolled her eyes at the childish behaviour.
"Can you not just once behave like the grown woman you are?"
Bellatrix cackled. "Nope."
She flopped down on the log next to Hermione, kicking her feet. "Why'd you send a patronus? Any bloody Death Eater could have seen it."
"Obviously I said to only take it to you if you were alone! Jeez Bellatrix, I'm not stupid."
Bellatrix shrugged. "If you ask me-"
Hermione glared at her, imitating a certain Hogwarts professor. Bellatrix held up her hands. "Fine, I'll shut it. Now tell me, why am I here?"
September 15th, 2000
Running had always been an escape for Hermione, a way to find freedom. She had never needed protection, her fangs enough, but this time, she didn't realize she had passed the boundaries. The wards simulated the rush of blood, and her pounding heart overwhelmed any other feelings.
But little did she know, she was on the other side.
And someone was watching her.
Hermione continued to run, her brain running too fast to be able to factor in the bonds tug, letting her know of the others presence.
Until she was knocked over.
Hermione's fangs came out, ready to rip, tear and desecrate her prey, but instead it felt as if they were scraping marble. Crap.
The bond thrummed, recognising the other. The word mudblood, carved into her forearm, began to bleed once again, dampening her shirt arm.
Bellatrix looked her in the eye. Silence stretched thin over minutes that felt like hours then years then decades.
Finally, she spoke.
"We need to have a little chat. Girl to girl."
A/N
So that's it! If you're wondering why Bellatrix decided to join the order, so am I but if I write more it'll be solved! Anywhoo goodnight, i need a year long nap, VCE is kicking my butt