Harry Potter belongs to JKR

Warning: Minor cursing.

Beta by FedererEx

Chapter 21

Bellatrix appeared just outside of Hogsmeade with a soft pop and turned around, orienting herself towards the castle in the distance, and twirled her wand about herself to disillusion her form as she walked.

"What in Merlin's name was that?" she thought, "bloody fiendfyre, are they mad? And that was definitely Mulciber's animagus form..."

And Potter. Potter had looked like he was about to face down the fiendfyre, and she was certain she was about to get a taste of what the Chosen One was capable of… and then Ginny called him back. The long walk from the village to the castle gave her plenty of time alone with her internal monologue as she struggled to make sense of the fight inside the muggle nightclub. Puffs of steam escaped from her lips as she breathed the frigid night air.

At first she'd hesitated; she didn't know who was fighting Hermione behind the mask, and didn't know whether to join in or try to tell them they'd been hoodwinked and the Dark Lord had lied to them all. It turned out to be Mulciber, but there was no way she could have known that. When she heard the Killing Curse though, her reaction was pure instinct.

"What was I supposed to do, watch her die right in front of me?" Bellatrix thought. Realisation dawned on her; more than simply not wanting to kill Hermione, she didn't want harm to come to her. She walked the stone bridge leading to the courtyard in solitude and silence, contemplating the emotions swirling inside her as her boots thumped on the stone.

"Be honest, at least with yourself. You protected her, you saved her life and fought off her attacker," Bellatrix thought.

She sighed and looked up at the stars. Her namesake stood out like a beacon to her gaze: Orion's leading shoulder. Having seen Weasley and Hermione together, she could not fathom why or how they were a couple.

Seeing them together stirred a familiar sensation within her, and at first she hadn't understood, but when he led her away to dance, she knew.

"Inadequacy," she thought. She recalled the same feeling when she'd learned she was betrothed to Rodolphus Lestrange and had her first serious conversation with him. There was nothing especially wrong with him per se, there just wasn't enough there to qualify as a satisfactory life-partner for her.

"It's the same with Weasley and Hermione," she thought, "she just doesn't know it yet, or doesn't want to accept it."

She made her way through the window and down into the dungeons even as her thoughts remained fixed on the duel and her partner. Alone in the tent, she stripped off her ridiculous muggle outfit and threw on a thick bathrobe to wear across the hall to the public showers, where she set the water to extra hot to scour the muggle stink off her. She thought she'd done a good enough job pretending to not care about being stuck in the middle of a herd of them while Ginny Weasley observed, but she still wanted nothing to do with them.

"Especially Potter's cousin, ugh," she thought as scalding water beat down on her shoulders.

She scrubbed her hand again where the well-built muggle had touched it, then lathered up a second time.

When she finally finished, the tips of her fingers looked like prunes and fog completely obscured her reflection in the mirror over the sinks. Bellatrix returned to the potions lab to find it still deserted. Too excited from the duel earlier in the evening to sleep, she debated starting the next brew on the list until she heard hushed voices from the hallway. The door opened and Hermione and Ginny, both still wearing Potter and Weasleys' blazers, stopped talking when they caught sight of her.

"You're back," Julia said.

"Thanks Ginny, I'll see you when classes resume," Hermione said to the redhead.

Ginny paused for a moment then apparently came to a decision.

"Night," she said with a small wave to Julia, and Hermione closed the door behind the redhead and leaned back against it with a heavy sigh, then she opened her eyes and looked to Julia.

"You saved my life," Hermione said.

"I suppose I did," Julia replied, her tone neutral.

"Thank you," Hermione said,

"Yes well, right place, right time," Julia replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Bellatrix considered saying nothing, but that was never really her style. She took a deep breath.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but what the fuck were you thinking?" she asked.

Hermione's eyes widened and her mouth formed a small 'o'.

"Potter said fall back, and then you did the exact opposite of falling back," Julia said, "charging one of the… Death Eaters on your own?"

She'd almost called them the Dark Lord's closest.

Careful, Bella.

Hermione stood still for a moment, only a slight shift towards concern stealing over her features.

"I know," she said, sitting down at one of the tables, "but it's… complicated."

"I don't see what's so complicated about it," Julia said, gesturing with one hand, "fall back behind the bar, let's all leave and not charge after Death Eaters. He baited you, and you fell for it."

"I know," Hermione said, putting her forehead in her hands with her elbows resting on the table, "I keep saying I'm fine but… I'm not."

What?

"That spell he hit you with, was it more than a bludgeoning curse?" Julia asked.

Hermione shook her head.

"I guess I owe it to you," Hermione said with another sigh as she ran her hands through her magically straightened hair, "promise you won't say anything."

The muggleborn didn't lift her head.

"Perhaps she's afraid to make eye contact?" Bellatrix thought.

"I promise," Julia said.

"I have a condition," Hermione said, finally looking up, but still not directly at Julia, "Professor Winthrop called it a 'survival state', caused by a great deal of stress. It happened once already, remember the fight on the Grand Staircase?"

If the rumours were true, Hermione had put a dozen students in the infirmary. Julia nodded and let Hermione speak.

"I sort of blank out," Hermione added.

"Sounds dangerous," Julia said.

"It is," Hermione said, "I'm seeing a mind healer in January; hopefully he or she will be able to, I don't know, fix whatever's wrong with me."

"Maybe you should try to avoid getting into fights until you're better," Julia said in a deadpan tone.

"That was the-" Hermione started, then stopped and rolled her eyes when she saw Julia's smirk.

"You're terrible. I'm trying to be serious and you're just," she huffed as she stood up and walked to the door, but Bellatrix spied her smile as she hung up Ron's blazer on one of the hooks by the entrance.

"Why did you choose to wear that?" Julia asked, changing the subject.

"We had to wear something muggle, and Elizabeth suggested it," Hermione said as she walked past Julia on her way to the tent.

"Yes, she did the same for me. You could have worn something more like mine, you know, at least partially sensible," Julia said, talking to Hermione's nearly naked back as she entered the tent, "this seems so unlike you."

Hermione didn't acknowledge the comment as she moved to the bunks and pulled out a nightgown from one of the dressers, closing the drawer slighter harder than was necessary. She stopped and looked at Julia for a moment.

"Turn around," Hermione said.

Realising she was about to change clothes, Bellatrix turned her back and folded her arms as she attempted to ignore the sound of rustling cloth behind her.

"It was this idea Elizabeth had and for some ungodly reason I thought it was a good one at the time. I told her I wanted to show Ron… well, I don't know what I was trying to do, really." Hermione said, "I'm finished."

Julia turned to see Hermione's club clothing folded neatly on the bed, all except for the extra sleeve to cover her arm, which still hid the cursed slur. Hermione now wore a white towel and held purple pyjamas and a toiletry bag under one arm. Bellatrix wanted to ask her what she saw in Weasley, why she would even bother trying to impress him, much less in such a coarse manner, but thought perhaps now wasn't the time.

"Well, at least your hair looked better," Julia said instead, and then immediately regretted saying anything, "that is, if you're trying to look more..."

She trailed off and made a motion with her hand, hoping Hermione would fill in the blank herself. Hermione sniffed, not even a half-chuckle, but her fingers went to her already frizzing locks.

"It's only temporary," she said. She dropped her hand to her side.

"Thank you again, I know I can never make it up to you, but I'll try to think of something," Hermione said.

"If you insist," Julia said, "though there's no need, really. I'd do it again for free."

"Let's hope you don't have to," Hermione said, heading to the entrance of the tent while Julia moved to her bunk.

"I'll sleep first then, see you tomorrow," Julia said.

"Night Julia," Hermione said as she ducked back out of the tent.

Bellatrix laid down, jerked the covers up to her chin, and rolled onto her side to face the wall. Her mind wandered to Hermione and Weasley and why Hermione even bothered with the so-called relationship.

"She'd be better off without him," Bellatrix thought as she drifted off to sleep.

line

"Hermione Granger Comes Out as Advocate for Being Rights"

"Death Eaters Attack Golden Trio in Muggle Nightclub"

Beneath the dual headlines, a picture of Hermione sliding next to Harry in front of Gringotts and declaring her open support for beings repeated over and over. Bellatrix studied the headlines held up across the table; Hermione's face was buried in the articles midway through the paper. Overnight, her hair had returned to its usual frizz, all traces of the effort she'd put in the day before to tame it down completely erased. The muggleborn folded the paper, slammed it down next to her, and tore into a piece of toast and jam, chewing as if they'd offended her somehow.

"I don't understand how this shares the front page with a group of lunatics trying to murder us," Hermione said, pointing at the headline.

"It's like the past and the future all together," Bellatrix muttered, almost to herself.

She studied Hermione's face as the golden girl absently chewed her toast while looking down at the paper.

"They're afraid of losing their place," Bellatrix said, loud enough for Hermione to hear this time, "they grew up a certain way and they feel they're not passing a better world, or even the same world, on to their children."

"Nothing about the muggles who were killed," Hermione said, all but ignoring Julia as her brow furrowed again, "I'm going to have to get a muggle newspaper to find out how many died."

Bellatrix stayed silent for a moment.

"You couldn't have done anything more to save them," she said, "you almost died yourself."

Hermione nodded.

"I know," she said, putting her toast down on her plate, "would have, if not for you."

She gave Julia a small smile, then grew serious.

"I'm going to try to distract myself from running for my life, again, in the lab today," she said.

Bellatrix recognized the invitation for what it was.

"I'll join you," she said.

They spent the next twelve hours chopping and sorting, purifying, brewing, and noting down results, with only a short break for lunch followed by writing their cross-cultural essays. Bellatrix had completely forgotten about them, but Hermione did not, despite her near-death experience. Then it was back to testing potions the entire following day, and then again on Sunday. As each hour passed, Bellatrix found herself thinking more and more about Hermione and Weasley, and worse, she caught herself unconsciously starting to consider methods of breaking them up.

"What in Merlin's name does she see in Weasley?" she thought, "he's not especially intelligent, or attractive. Is it simply a lack of options?"

She almost neglected her own brew on multiple occasions but managed to maintain just enough focus to avoid spoiling any ingredients, barely.

"It's none of your bloody business," she thought to herself, "you should leave it."

Voices echoed from the hall, the other students returning post-holiday. Hermione and Julia cleaned up ahead of the return to school feast.

"We made fantastic progress this weekend," Hermione said as they wiped down the tables, "at this rate we'll be able to start testing the charm in February. That'll give us three whole months to get it right."

Hermione walked with a noticeable spring in her step as they rounded the corner towards the Great Hall; already they could hear the murmur of hundreds of voices from within.

"He's completely not worthy of her," Bellatrix's mind whispered to her, but she just as quickly shoved the thought away.

"What are you going to do when you get your parents back?" Julia asked.

"I don't know, do a little happy dance? Run around and scream and shout?" Hermione replied, "probably just hug them. Oh, I hope they're not too angry with me."

She absently touched her arm through her sleeve.

"We'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it," she added, adding a little bit of extra emphasis on the 'when'.

They found Ginny at the Gryffindor table and sat down across from her. Bellatrix recognized Hermione's Christmas gift to her, a quidditch training guide, on the table next to her plate.

"Hi Hermione, Happy New Year. Everything healed up properly?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, good as new, thank you," Hermione replied, flexing her shoulder.

Ginny smiled, then turned to Julia.

"Julia, think I could have a word?" the redhead asked.

Bellatrix blinked, then nodded.

"Of course," she replied, standing up.

Ginny led to one of the many empty spots on the long table and they slid onto the benches across from one another. The quidditch captain took a steadying breath then looked Julia in the eye.

"First, I wanted to thank you for saving Hermione," Ginny said, "that Death Eater would have killed her if not for you."

"That's probably true," Bellatrix said as she leaned back with a grin tried to enjoy the moment.

"And," Ginny added, closing her eyes and taking another deep breath, "I want to apologise for how I've been to you. I had you pegged as a blood supremacist through and through but seeing as you can dance with muggles and fight off Death Eaters, I guess you're okay in my book."

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that, could you maybe repeat it?" Julia asked.

"Don't push it," Ginny replied through clenched teeth.

Julia snickered.

"Apology accepted," she said, "how's about I start the next match?"

Ginny made a 'pff' sound.

"Keep practising," the redhead replied.

A startled yelp drew their attention from Hermione's end of the table.

"Standing around is a waste of time! Your opponents are busy training and improving while you're idle!"

Hunter Marcos, the fifth year Gryffindor beater, stood up straight and slammed Ginny's book shut.

"I only wanted to have a look, I didn't know it was going to yell at me," he said by way of apology as Ginny and Julia returned to their seats.

"That's why you shouldn't touch things that don't belong to you," Ginny said.

"Sorry Weasley. D'you think I might borrow it? After you're through I mean," he asked, "I want to get any edge against Ravenclaw we can."

"Sure Marcos, let me at least get through it first," Ginny replied.

Hunter was about to reply when McGonagall's amplified voice rang out from the podium at the front of the Hall.

"Your attention please," she said.

Marcos quickly sat down next to Ginny, muttering a quiet thanks.

"Welcome back, students," McGonagall said, "I hope everyone had a happy holiday. Before we commence the return to school feast, there are two announcements. First, we are reinstituting the spring dance, and this year's dance will take place the evening of Saturday, the seventeenth of April."

Excited or apprehensive whispers broke out among the students, but they quickly quieted down again as the Headmistress continued speaking.

"Students interested in joining the planning committee should approach Professor Collins," she said, "second, the Duelling Club will sponsor a tournament, scheduled to take place the first week of May. Anyone interested in entering please inform Professor Flitwick."

Bellatrix considered joining the duelling tournament for a half-second, then immediately discarded the idea.

"You don't want to draw any unwanted attention to yourself," she thought. Then an idea struck her. How would a muggleborn fare in a duelling tournament, if he had proper training?

She looked across the hall to the Slytherin table to where Wesley Michaels already stared at her and made eye contact with him. She pointed a finger at him, but he only shook his head. She rolled her eyes as McGonagall went on and made a chatting motion with her hand, indicating to Michaels that they should speak later.

"So without further ado, welcome back, and everyone tuck in," the Headmistress said. With a wave of both her hands, a magnificent feast appeared on the tables, and chatter grew in the hall again.

"What was all that about?" Ginny asked.

"Hmm?" Bellatrix asked, "oh, Michaels is going to enter the tournament."

"That Slytherin you're tutoring?" Ginny asked.

A loud clunk of a fork slamming down drew their attention to the large beater next to Ginny.

"You're teaching Wesley Michaels duelling?" Hunter asked, an offended look on his face, "one of them, and not your own house? Why?"

Bellatrix shrugged.

"Because I want to," she replied, "what are you going to do about it?"

Hunter looked like he might argue for a moment, then he shook his head.

"Nothing," he said, "just keep him away from us, and we're going to stay away from him too."

Then he perked up.

"Actually, maybe you all, or rather, Granger, could help us out," he said, "we're starting an escort service."

"I'm sorry, a what?" Hermione asked.

"Three Musketeers Escort Service," he said, "to help people move safely between classes and to their extra curriculars, open to anyone."

"Ah, an 'escort service', right," Hermione said, "and how will you stop it from becoming another battle royale?"

"Erm, I'm not really sure, actually, it was all Wildy's idea," Marcos replied quietly and scratching his head, "we're supposed to act as a deterrent, and most of the prefects think it's a good thing."

"Hmm, seems like it might have merit," Hermione said absently as she filled her plate with various vegetables and mashed potatoes, "better than your previous 'extracurricular activities'. What did you want my help for?"

"Err, I dunno. You'd probably better talk to Wildy, he's the one who mentioned it," Hunter replied.

Hermione thought about it for a moment.

"Sure, why not?" she said casually.

Marcos grinned triumphantly.

"Smashing, how about tomorrow after classes, in the common room?" Hunter asked.

"I'll see you there," Hermione replied with a smile.

"Brilliant, I'll tell him," the beater said as he attempted and failed to suppress a smile. He stood up and brought his plate to where Wildy and Stevens sat at the far end of the table to tell them the news.

Bellatrix only half paid attention to the conversation, consumed as she was with the upcoming duelling tournament. After giving it a little more thought, she'd decided she would put the generally accepted facts of blood purity to the test, and what better test than a series of formal duels?

"There's four months between now and the tournament. If I try to teach him, if I really try and he doesn't get anywhere, then it's likely muggleborns are just inferior," she thought, "but if he improves and places, or at least performs respectably on the same level as a fifth-year pureblood or better, than I'll know it's all bullshit and Ginny is correct about their lack of exposure."

She tapped her fork on her plate as she chewed, staring across the room.

"But I have to truly try, I can't make him fail intentionally," she thought.

She spent the rest of the meal mentally reviewing what drills she could put him through; she'd have to find out which spells were allowed in the duel, and work around that. Mind made up, she stood and made her way over to the Slytherin table where the snakes watched warily as she approached.

"You're going to take part in the tournament," she said to Michaels without preamble.

He glanced around at two other students sitting near him before looking up at her, but they casually looked away.

"Me? No, that's not a good idea," he said, shaking his head.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes.

"Excuse us," she said to the other students with a fake smile. She grabbed him by the bicep and all but dragged him to a more sparsely populated section of the table.

"You're going to bloody enter, and I'm going to train you, and you're going to do well," she hissed.

"No, I'm shit at duelling, you said so yourself," Michaels replied, "let go."

Bellatrix released him and closed her eyes.

"Merlin help me," she thought as she fought to control her temper.

"I only say that to motivate you," she said, opening her eyes again, "the tournament's in four months. We're going to train and you're going to enter, and you're going to try to win."

"Win? But I'm only a fifth year," Michaels' voice cracked as he spoke, "besides, if you're so keen, why don't you do it?"

Bellatrix smacked him on the head, mussing his hair.

"I already know how to duel. If you don't plan to win, what's the point of even entering? Even if you miss this year you still have two more years to fix whatever went wrong," she said, "plus, once you place well, everyone will know not to mess with you. So, you're entering."

She didn't wait for a response, instead opting to stand and return to Hermione and Ginny.

"So?" Ginny asked.

"He's doing it," Julia replied.

line

"Come on, I've got better things to be doing with my life," Bellatrix thought.

"As neither vampires who have performed the ritual themselves nor those who have been turned by another vampire can survive without bringing harm to others, they are all classified as Dark creatures," Winthrop said.

He paused, his gaze again settling on Julia in the front row.

"Done, assign homework," Bellatrix thought.

"Twelve inches on the methods of becoming a vampire, their unique abilities, and how to protect yourself," he said.

Bellatrix smirked and scribbled down the assignment, barely able to hide her elation at having some free time to herself at last.

"I'll see you in the lab later," she said to Hermione as they parted ways outside the class. Bellatrix strode up to the seventh floor, to the Room of Requirement. She'd wanted alone time since New Year's but between class, quidditch, and working on the potion, she hadn't managed any at all until now. The jagged stone weighed heavily in her pocket as she paced back and forth. When the door finally appeared, she yanked it open and quickly closed it behind her, locking it from the inside. The Room had changed itself yet again, this time into a large study with a pair of chalkboards on one wall, an assortment of mismatched reading chairs, and a large table complete with rolls of parchment and several inkwells and quills. She produced the stone and turned it over three times in her hand, and the shade of her cousin Regulus appeared.

"Reggie," she said.

"Bella, you can't trust the Dark Lord," he said, picking right up where he left off.

"I know," she replied, "I know. You were right. Everything's gone to shit. Or maybe everything was shit and now it's a different variety of shit. I don't know."

"What happened?" Regulus asked.

Bellatrix relayed the story of how she discovered Voldemort had been using her all along, and how he planned to kill her once he'd discovered how she returned to a healthy living body.

"And now I have no idea what to do with my life," she said, "I mean, I know what I'm going to do right now, but I don't know what I'm going to do next month, next year... Should I run? Should I stay?"

Regulus' shade floated closer to Bellatrix.

"It's good you realised the truth of the Dark Lord. I cannot help you with the specifics, but I can say it sounds as if you still have a chance at a good life Bella," he said, "why not take it?"

Bellatrix paced a few times, turning over Regulus' words in her head, then muttered a quick tempus charm.

"Screw this, I don't have time right now," she thought.

"Thanks Reg," she said, then released the stone, causing Regulus to vanish.

She tried to contact Sirius again, and again nothing happened. She took a deep breath. Since the near catastrophic mistake at the winter's solstice, she'd done some thinking about the Dark Lord and the Resurrection Stone, and how she could best turn their powers to her advantage. In her effort to help progress the obliviation cure, she'd also significantly expanded her knowledge of spell creation. Tonight's session would be different.

"Lord Voldemort," she thought, turning the stone over three times.

The familiar shadow appeared on the wall, writhing in agitation.

"Release me," it hissed.

"No," Bellatrix replied.

She already possessed some of the knowledge of how to create a body to house a soul whose original body had been killed, and that there was a ritual to create a new body, but she did not know the specifics of how to prevent a soul from departing once its body had died. Such magic was no doubt extremely powerful, and extremely dark, and Bellatrix wanted it, or at least the knowledge of it.

"How did you create the tether to keep your soul anchored after your body was destroyed?" she asked.

"Through a ritual," the shadow replied, flickering about the walls.

The Dark Lord's shade did not wish to divulge its secrets and answered questions as vaguely as it could, but Bellatrix Black was methodical and relentless in her questioning. In time, she would learn all of the rituals and forbidden dark magic that made Lord Voldemort one of the most feared and powerful wizards of the past century.

"How many steps are there in the ritual to create an anchor for a soul?" Bellatrix asked.

It was going to be a long night.