Harry Potter is owned by JKR
Trigger warnings at the end of the Chapter.
Beta by FedererEx
Chapter 36
Hermione sat quietly near the front of the small boat. Whereas they had sat four to a boat in first year, each now carried two students; Julia had taken the seat behind her. All of the wonderful, magical, joyous, and heart-breaking events that had happened since she rode across with Harry, Ron, and Neville at the start of first year flitted across her mind, their adventures, their trials, and loss. It seemed like a lifetime's worth of triumphant highs and devastating lows already, so much that she wasn't sure where she could go from here.
"Does it really make sense to sail across the lake if we're going to immediately hike back up to the castle?" Julia asked quietly. Hermione looked over her shoulder to glance at her girlfriend as the castle slowly receded behind them.
"And Julia, what's going to happen to us once the submission is complete and my parents' memories are restored?" she thought, "and how is Ron going to take it?"
Regardless of how her and Ron's romantic relationship, such as it had been, ended, Hermione knew she would be forever bound to him, and to Harry as well. They'd just have to get past the initial awkwardness. She realised she hadn't yet responded to Julia.
"We rode them to the castle at the start of first year. It's nice," she finally replied, and turned to face forward again. Even with both seventh and eighth years graduating, there were still fewer boats than had crossed the first time. The morning sun glittered off the lake, and a light breeze stirred Hermione's hair. The rest of the journey passed with only the sound of water bumping against the bottom of the boat, until at last, the prow of their small craft nudged into the sand at the far side. Hermione stepped out of the boat and joined the line of students climbing the narrow, forested path to Hogsmeade station. With her legs burning a little bit, she crested the last step to see Neville waiting for her at the top.
"Hullo," he said with a smile, "so, this is it."
"Don't sound so melancholy," Hermione said with a smile.
"It's different for you, you're walking straight back. For me it's just… strange," Neville said.
"It's not all that different for you, you're coming back next year," Hermione said.
"Yes, but it won't be the same; none of you will be here, and I'll have my own faculty quarters…" Neville said.
"Can't expect it to be the same after graduation," Hermione said, "and everything else."
Neville nodded and pulled her into a tight hug.
"Be safe in Australia," he said.
"Don't worry, I will, and Julia's coming with me," Hermione said, "when I'm back, I'll bring my parents by so you can meet them."
"Assuming something doesn't go horribly wrong," Hermione thought.
"Brilliant," Neville said. He let her go and turned to the other pureblood.
"Julia," he said.
"Neville," Julia replied.
"Keep in touch, yeah?" Neville said.
"I'll owl you recipes for homemade desserts from time to time," Julia replied.
Neville looked confused for a second until he realised she was making a joke. Julia smirked.
"I'll hold you to that," Neville said with a grin of his own.
The train emitted a shrill whistle.
"Right," Neville said as he took a step back, "best of luck, both of you. I mean it. Fingers crossed for your parents Hermione. If anyone can do it, it's you."
He waved as he stepped up to the train platform, and turned around once more to wave a last time, then vanished inside the Hogwarts Express. Hermione stared at the train. In a perfect world, a world without Voldemort, she'd be boarding the train together with Harry, Ron, Neville, Ginny, and Luna as well, and her parents would be waiting for her at King's Cross one last time.
"Merlin, I'm famished, think there's any food at the castle?" Julia asked.
"Probably, failing that we can visit the kitchens," Hermione replied. With the train still waiting at the platform, Hermione's steps took her away from the station and through Hogsmeade village. Halfway to the castle, Julia's hand found hers, and Hermione's thumb instinctively moved to the small scar only she knew about. She stopped herself from smiling.
"The grounds are deserted, everyone is gone," she thought, "who cares?"
She consciously let her lips do what they wanted and grinned like a fool as they walked hand in hand. Her parents' potion was almost ready, exams were complete, and graduation was done. All they had to do was to finalise the submission documentation, clean for a few hours each day, and the rest of the time they had to themselves.
"And find some more black filament," Hermione thought. They had secured enough for her parents, but not enough for Julia or the demonstration to the Council of Master Healers.
Hermione opened her eyes and looked up at the dimly lit bunk above her, then with a sense of freedom and exposure, realised she was completely naked beneath her sheets.
"I wonder if I'll ever get used to waking up like this?" she thought as she recalled their lovemaking from the previous night. She breathed deep and detected a hint of fresh sawdust, a scent she'd come to associate with Julia.
"I hope not," she thought as she carefully disentangled herself from Julia and stretched. Slowly, so as not to wake her partner, she slipped from the covers and shimmied to the foot of the bunk and out of bed, then paused to watch Julia as she slept, utterly spent. When it was just the two of them, alone in the tent, Hermione felt able to cut through the snark and the sarcasm, and get to who Julia White truly was. It seemed Julia didn't care about any of the things she herself was insecure about, and Hermione couldn't decide whether Julia was overlooking those shortcomings, or if she truly didn't care. Although she wanted to believe it was the latter, she just couldn't seem to allow herself to believe it fully.
Still, Julia had given her no indication that she felt anything but adoration, in much the same way Hermione was starting to feel about her, and her heart swelled at the realisation. She smiled to herself and stepped over discarded clothing to reach for her robe and toiletries. The showers across the hall were one of the first things they'd cleaned, with both Ms Skower's brand tile foam and liberal application of scented scouring charms, so Hermione breathed deeply the floral scents as she entered and felt a hint of satisfaction at their work. She set the water to hot and ran her hands over her stomach as it streamed over her, and then lower, over the bruise Julia left on her inner thigh, where only she would see it. Last night had been an exceptionally good night, and Hermione closed her eyes to recall the highlights. More surprising to her were the long periods of time they could lay next to one another with just small caresses, and these were what she mentally replayed as she slowly washed up. The door behind her clicked open and Hermione startled as Julia poked her head, hair still mussed, into the shower stall.
"Do you mind? Everywhere else is full," Julia asked as her eyes roamed downwards. It was a preposterous statement; there was barely anyone else in the castle, much less the showers. Hermione didn't answer, but she motioned Julia to join her under the stream of water. Julia closed the door behind her and quickly pressed herself against Hermione to kiss her.
"You don't know how many times I've wanted to do this," Julia whispered as she nibbled on Hermione's ear to send shivers down her spine. The thought had crossed Hermione's mind once or twice as well, when they had showered in separate stalls.
"Hmmm, did you lock the door?" Hermione asked.
"Not that it matters since there's nobody here, but yes," Julia replied.
Hermione didn't respond, but she reached for her body wash and squeezed some onto her hand, paused and squeezed some more onto the top of Julia's breasts, then stepped into her. As they kissed and spread the slippery soap between them, Hermione wondered if anything could be better, and really hoped they weren't interrupted by Peeves or one of the ghosts. The permanent residents of the castle either didn't know or weren't interested in their sensual shower though, and Julia gently but firmly steered Hermione to sit on the raised block on one side of the stall, then reached for the shampoo to lather up her long, unruly hair. Hermione felt Julia put one knee down behind her, then smiled as she felt Julia's hands drift away from her hair to spread shampoo to her breasts and tease her nipples. She sighed and leaned back as hands drifted lower, across her stomach to her thighs, closer, and closer.
"Right, let's rinse you off," Julia said.
"Bloody harlot," Hermione muttered as she did her best not to react to the tease and stood up under the stream of water again. She did much the same for Julia though, except instead of standing to rinse, she turned the showerhead to wash the shampoo away while Julia still sat on the block. Unlike Julia, Hermione's hands didn't stop at Julia's thighs, and they elicited a deep, satisfied sigh as she moved to caress between her legs. Julia leaned back against the wall and spread her thighs wide to allow Hermione easier access, until only the tips of her toes touched the ground. Hermione slid her fingers between Julia's soft folds until a sharp exhale told her she'd found the right spot. She started with a slow, circular motion she'd learned Julia liked, and the combination of anticipation and the streaming water must have helped because Julia's legs started to quiver, and her whole body convulsed with her climax after only a minute or two. She breathed heavily for a few seconds, then turned and grabbed Hermione by the bum to pull her closer, then lifted Hermione's thigh so her foot rested on the block. Julia ducked down as the water continued to stream over both of them, and for a second, Hermione thought she would use her mouth, something they hadn't done yet, but Julia stopped and used her fingers to spread her lips instead. Hermione looked up at the ceiling and held onto one of the handles attached to the wall of the shower to keep her balance as waves of sensation rolled through her. The combination of the warm water streaming over her body and Julia's ministrations, the thought of her also completely vulnerable in the shower with her, brought her to a sharp peak as her vision tunnelled. She gripped the handle tightly as her knees nearly gave out and she sagged forward, almost onto Julia, who took the opportunity to lift one breast and give her nipple a long, wet lick. Hermione stood up straight and lifted her partner to join her, pulled her tight, their bodies pressed together for one last, lingering kiss beneath the water. Then she stopped and stepped back to take in Julia's rosy-cheeked face and mischievous and satisfied smile. Hermione turned off the water and reached for her towel.
Back in the tent, they dressed and picked up discarded clothing.
"How long for the potion?" Julia asked.
"Five days," Hermione replied.
Julia nodded.
"Bet you're looking forward to it," Julia said.
"Nervous," Hermione said, "and… I'm glad you're going to be there."
"I can't wait to see your face when you get them back," Julia said.
Hermione smiled.
"It's going to work, everything is going to be okay," she thought to herself.
Hermione sat at her usual table in the library and reread the page again, then copied down an address.
"Of course it wouldn't appear in any recent book, if it was damaged during World War Two and went out of use," she thought. She nearly skipped as she entered the potions classroom, but Julia was not there. Her presence had been lacking in the past few days, consumed with some research or project of her own, and Hermione had not pressed her on exactly what it was; she would tell her when she was ready, and Hermione trusted her. They didn't need to be joined at the hip every hour of every day, after all, not when they cleaned the castle together and spent their nights in the same bed.
"Should I wait?" Hermione thought, "it shouldn't be a problem though, how many cathedrals have we been to, and wouldn't it be wonderful if I brought back a load of black filament for her potion as a surprise?"
She walked to the blackboard and wrote in large bold letters, the name of the muggle cathedral that had been used for wizarding rituals in the nineteeth century, the perfect place for black filament to grow: Sagesse Fontaine. Then she circled it and punctuated with a loud clack of chalk.
Giddy with her discovery, Hermione walked towards Hogsmeade until she was clear of the wards, then apparated to the Leaky Cauldron, and then it was about forty minutes by muggle train to the location of the ruined Sagesse Fontaine cathedral. All the way, she imagined the excited expression on Julia's face when she presented her with a healthy trove of black filament.
"Assuming it's there," she thought, as she attempted to temper her expectations.
Already in disuse by the early twentieth century, the cathedral, set on a small hillock, was partially hidden by vines and trees. Large and imposing, massive pillars flanked the arch of the entrance. In the fading twilight, Hermione could clearly see where one wall of the cathedral had collapsed, but inside the cathedral itself, she spotted large support pillars still holding most of the roof up.
A large sign on the chained double doors of the cathedral read 'Danger, Keep Out'. Hermione glanced around to ensure no one was watching, then drew her wand.
"Alohomora," she said, and the chains unwound themselves with a loud rattle. Dust fell from the ceiling as she pushed open the large, rotted door and stepped into the atrium. The narthex and chapel lay beyond, but what she sought would most likely be here, near the entrance.
"Vermillious," Hermione whispered. Red sparks flittered about the tip of her wand and granted enough light to see by.
She stepped back outside of the cathedral to see how far the walls extended, then returned inside; the right wall was narrower than the exterior would indicate, suggesting a hidden passage. It took a little searching, but eventually she found a small door without a knob, built into the wall. She pushed and it slid open easily to reveal a very narrow staircase that descended down into darkness. Beneath the cathedral, Hermione found a dank cellar with cots and old shelves filled with cans, most likely food left over from when the cellar was used as a bomb shelter, decades ago. Steps at the far end of the cellar descended further, into catacombs. Hermione's heart skipped a beat as, down in the darkness between two sealed up alcoves, she almost immediately spotted a large clump of black filament. She grinned and pulled out her darkened jar, but stopped as she heard a light scuff behind her. She turned around and held her wand high, suddenly worried she might not be alone. Nothing jumped out of the shadows though, and she turned back to pull the mould from the space between the alcoves and drop it into the jar. She moved to another hollow, a sealed-up alcove where she and a rat startled each other, and she gave off a small squeak as the rodent skittered away.
"That must be what I heard," she thought. She tried to put the rat and the uneasy sense of foreboding that came with being surrounded by catacombs out of her mind as she discovered more filament. It wasn't everywhere, but there was more than enough for Julia and probably St. Mungo's as well, at least at first until they started curing patients. When the jar was full, still with plenty of filament left scattered around the few corridors she'd searched, she stood up and smiled to herself as she stowed it in her pouch. She glanced around one last time, and the name engraved above the inset on the opposite side of the corridor caught her eye, and she leaned forward to get a better look.
Lestrange
Hermione's eyes widened and she gasped just in time to catch the reflection of a red curse on the stone around her, and everything went dark.
Bellatrix drummed her fingers on the potions table and stared at the name of the cathedral Hermione had added. She had returned from the Room of Requirement to meet with Hermione for dinner, but there was no sign of her. Then she'd spotted the latest addition to their list of likely locations to find black filament mould.
"You're overreacting, she wouldn't have gone alone," Bellatrix thought, "she's probably meeting with McGonagall or Winthrop, to talk about the Council submission."
The unsettled feeling in Bella's gut persisted, and she stood up and began pacing in front of the blackboard.
"If she's here and you go running off, you're gong to feel like an idiot," Bellatrix thought, "and if she's there but nothing's wrong, she's going to think you're overprotective. She can handle herself. She is a war hero, after all. What are the odds there's actually someone hiding there, anyway?"
Bella stopped and crossed her arms, then uncrossed them. She tapped her foot and twirled her wand as she started pacing again.
"But if there's someone there and she's in trouble… you'll never forgive yourself if you stay here and could have done something," she thought.
Mind made up, she pulled her robe over her head before she even reached the tent. The cathedral was in muggle Britain, and she needed to look the part if she was headed out there.
Hermione's eyes snapped open, and she inhaled sharply. Her vision focused on the individual standing in front of her, tall and thin, with wand in hand, someone she recognized immediately from the skirmish at the Department of Mysteries.
"Rastaban Lestrange," she thought as the direness of her situation hit her, "Death Eaters, they're hiding here!"
Then:
"Nobody knows where I am!" she thought in a panic.
Hermione tried to move, but a dull, aching pain and discomfort in her arms meant she was tied to a chair, and likely had been for some time. She tested her legs, and found they were bound to the chair as well. She looked around; apparently, she had been moved back to the cellar. Her wand and pouch she spotted on a shelf, a mere fifteen feet away amidst some canned food.
"At first, I thought you were a stupid muggle teenager out for some excitement in an old abandoned cathedral," Lestrange said as he tapped his wand on his thigh, "Wouldn't be the first. Imagine my surprise when I found the Golden Bitch herself."
Another individual, a dark-robed, stocky, slouched shouldered woman stepped into her view, and it took Hermione a moment to place her name, as she had never seen her before.
"Alecto Carrow," Hermione thought.
"Anyone else?" Rastaban asked.
"No, and the alarm is reset," Alecto replied, "is it really her?"
"As I live and breathe," Rastaban replied with a gap-toothed grin.
"We should kill her now, her friends may be on the way," Alecto said.
"I don't think so; she's here alone. Aren't you?" Rastaban asked.
Hermione tried to think fast, but terror had her in its grip, and words choked in her throat. Rastaban smirked and pointed his wand at her.
"Legilimens," he said, and Hermione felt his slimy Dark presence force its way through her eyes and into her skull. The last few hours replayed in an instant as part of her observed passively, while another part screamed for it to stop. She chased Rastaban as he flipped through lunch, the discovery of the cathedral, and the train ride, before she caught up to him in the cathedral atrium.
"Get out!" she thought with all her mental might, and forcibly shoved Lestrange from her mind.
He fell back with a gasp, and Hermione wanted a bath after experiencing his presence inside her mind, but Lestrange smiled again, this time triumphant.
"She hasn't told anyone. Nobody knows we're here," he said with great satisfaction.
Alecto Carrow grunted.
Rastaban ignored her and knelt down to untie one of Hermione's ankles, and lifted her calf as dread filled her gut.
"Maybe I could kick at him? No, Alecto is right there pointing her wand at me…" she thought. Rastaban slowly unlaced her trainer and let it fall to the floor, then rolled her sock down and slid it off, exposing her foot to the cold damp air.
"Oh Merlin, is he going to pull out my toenails?" she thought.
Lestrange leaned forward and Hermione curled her toes in some kind of vain effort to protect them from whatever torture he was about to inflict upon her, but the Death Eater put his face right up to her foot, and took a long, drawn-out sniff.
"What the fuck!?" Hermione thought as she watched half in horror and half in disgust.
"Freak," Alecto said.
"Fuck off," Rastaban said, "you can watch or go diddle yourself in the corner, I don't care."
"I don't like it, we should kill her now," Alecto said.
"I haven't had anything to look at except your pudgy arse for weeks," Rastaban said, "and I'm in the mood for a good old fashioned mud fucking. Got a love potion just for the occasion, too."
He ran his warm, wet tongue the length of the sole of Hermione's foot and over her toes, and she couldn't help but let out a little sound of disgust. Rastaban winked at her, then stood up.
"Make sure she doesn't go anywhere," he said, and moved off towards the catacombs.
"Just animate her corpse and fuck that!" Alecto called after him, but Rastaban ignored her and Hermione tried to rub her foot clean on the dusty floor.
Alecto turned to regard her, arms crossed.
"You don't look like much," she said.
"The feeling is mutual," Hermione replied.
Alecto casually pointed her wand.
"Crucio," she said. Blinding pain seared through Hermione's chest and she arched her back as every nerve lit on fire, then it was over. She gasped and leaned forward as far as her bonds would allow, then sat up straight again. Alecto Carrow regarded her with a curious expression. It had hurt, true, but her Unforgivable was a pale shadow of what Hermione had endured that night at Malfoy Manor, at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Is that all?" Hermione asked. Carrow's expression hardened, and pain, twice as bad as before, seared through her anew, then she sagged against the ropes again.
"Still not as bad as Bellatrix," Hermione thought as she sucked at some spittle that had dripped from her mouth. She squirmed a little as she realised a few drops of urine had slipped out as well, then sat up straight again.
"Do you know what he's going to do?" Carrow asked, "he's going to feed a love potion to you, and after it's taken effect, he's going to make you do all sorts of insane, deviant and degrading things for him, and you're going to love it. And then he's going to let it wear off so you can feel the disgust, and then he'll feed you another one and do it all over again, until he's bored. And then he'll kill you, or let you die of thirst maybe."
The thought of what Alecto Carrow would find insane and deviant drove visions of what Rastaban Lestrange might have in store for her, and she shuddered despite her resolve to stay calm and think.
"At least it'll be a few days for someone to find me," Hermione thought as she tried to look at the bright side.
A low buzzing noise issued from the staircase and Alecto looked towards it.
"Told that stupid old man we should have killed you," she muttered as she aimed her wand at Hermione.
"No! I don't want to die!" Hermione thought as she yanked at her restraints in vain.
"Wait-" Hermione said.
"Stupefy," Alecto said, and everything went dark again.
Hermione gasped as she opened her eyes to see Rastaban looking down at her, wand in one hand, potion bottle in the other.
"Where did Alecto go?" he asked.
He was answered by a muffled explosion from upstairs, followed by shouting. Just as Rastaban turned to look, the ropes binding Hermione loosened and fell away.
"They were incarcerous ropes!" Hermione thought. Either Alecto had let the spell end, or been knocked out. With only a second or two before Lestrange turned back, she took her chance and tried to spring to her feet and swing her fist up at Rastaban's nose. As stiff as her legs were though, she didn't jump as quickly as she wanted, and overcompensated with her punch to hit Lestrange in the eye instead.
"Agh," he said as he fell back and held his face. Hermione turned and half sprinted, half wobbled, to her wand.
"Stupefy, Incarcerous, Impedimenta!" Rastaban shouted, but because he only had the use of one eye, or because Hermione was unable to run in a straight line, only a few strands of rope snagged her foot as her hand closed around the shaft of her wand.
"Protego," she thought as she deflected another spell from Rastaban, "confringo."
The yellow blasting curse zinged from her wand and Rastaban side stepped it neatly, but it impacted the far wall and exploded. The pressure from the spell nearly blew out her eardrums and Hermione's vision swam. Rastaban, who was closer to the blast, looked worse off than she felt as he staggered to one knee, and Hermione grabbed her pouch, ducked around the shelf, and turned to apparate, but nothing happened.
"A ward!" she thought and she zigzagged between shelves. Spells she couldn't hear over the ringing in her ears zipped past her and blasted shelves to pieces as Rastaban kept up his attack.
"Expecto patronum," she whispered. Her otter burst into existence and lit up the entire cellar.
"Find Harry," she whispered, "tell him Death Eaters have trapped me in the Sagesse Fontaine Cathedral, three-forty Promulgate Road, West London."
Her wand shot out of her hand and clattered to the ground, a disarming charm, but her otter dimmed to a point of light and took off through the ceiling.
"Bitch, what did you do?" Rastaban asked, his voice still muffled by the ringing, as he trained his wand on her. He didn't wait for a response and began to cast again, and Hermione ducked down and launched herself at his legs. He staggered back a step, and she grabbed for his wand arm, but his other fist came around and smashed her temple first, and Hermione saw stars as she tumbled to the dusty floor. Another explosion blasted away part of the roof of the cellar to expose the cathedral above, and debris clattered down and over shelves, followed by a rotted pew.
"Where is she?" a woman shouted, and something inside Hermione twitched at the sound of her voice, "CRUCIO!"
Suddenly Hermione was back at Malfoy Manor, with deranged Bellatrix Lestrange and her wild hair astride her, wielding her walnut wand with deadly precision as she shouted questions and cast the Unforgivable over and over.
"Impossible."
Hermione's eyes snapped to Rastaban Lestrange's, and his to hers, for the two of them had uttered the word at the same time. Alecto Carrow's agonized scream cut through the fog and Hermione tried to move, to dodge, but Rastaban was too quick and fired off a wordless spell. Hermione moved her hand to block the red beam, a desperate, last-ditch hope.
"Protego," she thought, and then everything went dark again.
With great difficulty, Hermione peeled her eyes open to find herself lying on the floor of the atrium, facing the nave of the cathedral, where a fierce duel raged between Rastaban Lestrange and Julia. Hermione tried to move, but nothing happened.
"Full body bind," she thought. She could only watch helplessly as pews were blasted apart, but Julia seemed to have the upper hand as Rastaban kept retreating or defending against her onslaught. Then Hermione saw what was happening as he deflected another curse into a nearby pillar and retreated towards the altar. She tried to shout a warning, to say anything, but Rastaban's spell held her fast. Chunks blew out of another pillar, and as it toppled to crash through the floor, the entire roof began to cave in. Julia started to run back, towards Hermione, but Rastaban charmed the floor to turn into a sticky morass, and then, with a rumble and a roar, the entire structure collapsed, taking Julia with it. Hermione held her breath and closed her eyes as a wave of dust washed over her.
Bellatrix woke up and coughed on choking dust. She tried to move, and pain exploded all throughout her body, but especially her legs and waist. Every breath was agony, but she forced herself to breathe, to figure out her circumstances.
"Bloody Rastaban," she thought, "and that bitch Alecto Carrow."
It was pitch black, and she couldn't see anything at all. She felt around her waist and found a large stone block had pinned her to the ground; pushing against it only caused more pain. She stopped, and her hands came away warm and wet.
"Lumos," she whispered, her voice weak, but nothing happened.
"Julia?" she heard. Hermione's voice.
"Here," she said, "I'm here."
The sound of clattering stone reached her ears as Hermione clambered down into the collapsed cellar.
"Lumos," the muggleborn said, and a small, wan light appeared in the palm of her hand, about ten feet away.
Bellatrix chuckled, and then winced immediately.
"Typical," she thought. Hermione had effortlessly done what she had not been able to when trapped in the vault a year ago, or just now.
"I'm here," Hermione said as she knelt next to her.
"Help me.. move the stone," Bellatrix said.
Hermione looked to the block, the gigantic block. A large section of one of the cathedral's supporting pillars pinned her legs.
"Oh… oh no," Hermione said. Bellatrix looked down to see her legs were not just pinned. The block rested on the stone floor of the cellar and had smashed her hips to where it looked like they had sunk into the stone, but a dark and growing pool of blood around her told otherwise.
"Oh," Bellatrix said, and she suddenly felt very cold, and her body started shaking.
"Hang on, Harry's on the way," Hermione said, "I need.. I need my wand."
"Wait," Bellatrix said as she grabbed Hermione's arm, "don't leave me."
Her breaths came fast and shallow as she held on to Hermione.
"Julia I have to…" Hermione said and she looked down at her, desperation in her eyes.
"It's funny, me, and a mudblood, who would have thought?" Bellatrix thought.
"Look Hermione," Bella said as she circled an index finger in the pool of blood, "look at that pure blood getting all muddied up."
She laughed again, weakly, and held onto Hermione even tighter.
"I can save you, if I had a wand, I could save you until Harry gets here and we can get to St. Mungo's," Hermione said.
"She's crying," Bellatrix thought as tears left tracks of dust-free skin on Hermione's face, "no, that's not good."
She tried to swallow.
"I need water," she said.
"I don't…" Hermione said as she looked around, "I don't have any."
Bellatrix coughed again and her vision started to tunnel. She focused on Hermione's face, lit up by the faint lumos spell in her hand.
"I'm dying. I was happy," she thought, "it's not fair, I was happy."
Then a realisation cut through her. The unbound transfiguration spell would end when she died.
"Oh no," she thought, "what will Hermione think?"
"Hermione," Bellatrix said as her vision went dark, "I'm…."
"Shh, don't talk," Hermione said.
"What to say, how to make it better?" Bellatrix thought in the darkness.
"I'm… not," she said, but the words came out slurred.
"Hermione!" she heard.
"Harry! Down here!" Hermione shouted, "help! We're down here!"
"Hermione, I have to tell you," Bellatrix said quietly.
"Shh, Julia it's okay, Harry's here, we're going to help you," Hermione said as she brushed her hair back, "you're going to be okay."
"I'm not…. I'm not…" Bellatrix said, and then she knew nothing.
A pair of lumos lit wands bobbed towards her, and then a brilliant light forced Hermione to squint against the glare. She spotted Harry and Liz Moore in Auror blue, descending the rubble to where she knelt next to Julia, who had gone very pale, and very still. Hermione pressed her fingers to her neck.
"Still alive," she thought as she felt the weak pulse there, "it's not a Dark curse, it's just blood loss, and… broken bones, they can fix it."
She had to believe they could fix it. Hermione waved to Harry as Julia's hand lost its grip on her arm and fell away.
"Harry, it was Rastaban Lestrange and Alecto Carrow, they were here, and Julia fought them, but she's hurt, we have to get her to St. Mungo's," Hermione said, her words coming out rapid-fire.
But Harry wasn't moving, he just stood there staring at Julia, his brows furrowed and mouth slightly open.
"Harry!" Hermione said, "we have to save her!"
"That's not Julia," Harry said.
"What?" Hermione said, and she looked down at the girl whose hand she'd just been holding. Lying there in the rubble and pinned beneath the pillar, jaw slightly slenderer than she recalled, completely covered in dust, but unmistakeably, was Bellatrix Lestrange.
"What?" Hermione said again.
"She's alive? But… that was Julia just now. Was she polyjuiced? Wait, if she's here, pretending to be Julia, then where is Julia? Was she captured as well?" Hermione thought.
"We have to save her," Hermione said.
Liz started moving towards Lestrange, but Harry, without looking up from the body, held up a hand to stop her.
"Harry?" Liz asked.
Harry licked his lips and just continued staring as Bellatrix Lestrange lay there, bleeding out in the dirt.
"She knows where Julia is!" Hermione said.
Harry grimaced and let his hand drop. Liz immediately knelt down and started casting with one hand, while her other pulled a potion bottle from a pouch. She uncorked it and tipped it into Bellatrix's mouth. Harry walked around and used the toe of his boot to flip over Bellatrix's arm to reveal smooth, cream coloured skin.
"No tattoo?" Hermione thought.
"What the…" Harry muttered.
"I put her into stasis, so she'll stay alive at least until we can get to St. Mungo's," she said, "let's get this off her, and we can move. Maybe they can save her legs."
Harry, still looking shell-shocked, nodded and, together with Liz, pointed their wands to lift the pillar up and moved it to the side with an echoing boom. Hermione looked down and immediately regretted it. Bellatrix's entire lower body was pancaked, pulverized by the falling stone. Liz waved her wand over her legs a few more times and they seemed to fortify somewhat, though Hermione suspected she was just placing some kind of binding spells on them to keep them from falling apart when they tried to move her.
"Harry, we need to question her," Hermione said.
Harry nodded and looked her over.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine," she said, "missing my wand… and a shoe, but other than that I'm fine. I have to make sure Julia is okay though, I don't know where she is. She was fighting Rastaban and then…"
It didn't make any sense at all.
"I don't know," Hermione said. Her hands wrung one another as she stood in the rubble of the collapsed cathedral.
"We have to go," Liz said as she knelt over Bellatrix.
"We'll find your wand," Harry said, "and we'll find Julia, don't worry."
Hermione swallowed and tried to appear calm, but inside, the fear that her girlfriend and partner might already be dead threatened to consume her.
Bellatrix cracked her eyes open with great difficulty. Everything seemed blurry and white, but then she remembered with a start, and looked down to see a hospital bed, and what looked like her legs beneath sheets. She tried to move her feet around and they responded, and she lay back with a sigh. Then she tried to swallow, but her throat was so dry it stuck to itself. She looked to her left to see a darker form there, which slowly resolved into bushy haired Hermione.
"Hermione," she said, "water."
Even those few words hurt as they rasped from her parched throat. Hermione held a cup and straw to her face, and Bellatrix tried to reach for it, but her hand stopped short, restricted by something. It didn't matter though as she had the straw between her lips, and she gulped greedily as the cool liquid hit her tongue. Too soon, Hermione pulled the straw from her.
"Wait," Bella said.
"In a minute, you can't drink too much at once," Hermione said. She paused.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Bellatrix Black," Bellatrix replied, and her eyes widened.
"What the fuck!?" she thought.
As Bellatrix panicked, Hermione looked confused.
"Not Lestrange?" she asked.
"No," Bellatrix replied. She jerked her arms and with a metallic clank, found the reason she couldn't move her hands was because they were bound to the bed by what looked like solid iron manacles, with no locks or clasps to speak of… transfigured.
"It must be veritaserum," Bellatrix thought, and her panic intensified.
"Hermione, I can explain-" Bellatrix said.
"I know. And you will," Hermione said with an intensity Bella had never seen from her before, "Where is Julia White?"
"I am Julia White," Bellatrix replied.
Hermione looked even more confused, and Bellatrix frantically tried to come up with something that would make sense, that would prevent Hermione from despising her forever.
"It's not what you… I'm not her, I don't…" Bellatrix said, but nothing would help; Hermione was too clever. Breaths came short and fast as she realised nothing she could say or do would prevent the inevitable.
"Hermione will come up with the right questions, she's brilliant," Bellatrix thought.
"What makes you think you're Julia White?" Hermione asked.
"Because I paid the galleons to have identity papers drawn up, and have been using the name Julia White ever since," Bellatrix replied.
"Fuck fuck fuck," she thought, "that's it, it's all over."
Bellatrix's heart felt like shattering glass as Hermione's mouth dropped open. It took the muggleborn a few seconds to comprehend, then her hand went to her chest.
"It was you all along?" she whispered.
"Yes," Bellatrix replied.
"No no no! Bloody veritaserum!" she thought, but Hermione's face had turned into that exact expression of loathing and disgust she'd feared seeing for so long. Then she started to look nauseous.
"What… what?" Hermione said, "how… why… what the hell is wrong with… Is this some kind of twisted game?"
"No!" Bellatrix replied to the rhetorical question, but Hermione wasn't listening.
"Oh god, it was… all along… all along," Hermione said as she clutched her stomach, "oh… I- I'm going to be sick."
"Hermione please, wait!" Bellatrix said, but Hermione was out the door in a flash; her footsteps and gagging coughs echoed down the hall.
"Gone," Bellatrix whispered. How had it turned so wrong, so quickly? Her vision blurred, this time with tears, and the warm liquid slid over her cheeks as the realisation she'd lost Hermione settled around shoulders. The manacles clanked again; she couldn't even wipe her face.
"Merlin, they know who I am," she thought, "they're going to send me to the dementors."
She thought about trying to form an escape plan, then she stopped.
"What for?" she thought, "the only one I want is gone forever…"
Despair set in, potent as a dementor breathing in her face. She lay back against the pillows and waited for them to come and take her away. Then she squeezed her eyes shut and let the tears fall as they wished. Frustration and anger bubbled up from inside her, and she let out an anguished wail and yanked on her bonds as if she could somehow change reality with the power of her voice. But of course, she couldn't, and all she gained for her efforts were bruised wrists, a slight pain in her throat, and more despair.
Hermione found a toilet just in time and threw up goulash soup and chunks of sandwich into the white porcelain bowl. She knelt on the tiled floor and continued to heave a few times, but her stomach had nothing left to eject. Then she pressed the button to cause the contents of the bowl to vanish, sat down on the public toilet floor with her back against the side of the stall, and took a few deep breaths.
"Julia is Bellatrix Lestrange," she thought, "she was toying with me all along, some kind of… deranged obsession… why?"
Even as she thought it, little details of their relationship came to the fore: sitting in the back of her house and drinking eggnog on a cold Christmas evening, fighting acromantulas and hags in the Forbidden Forest, the spring dance they'd shared, patronus practise, their first kiss in the clearing, the long nights in the tent, searching for black filament in the Chamber of Secrets, working on the project together.
"The project!" she said out loud. She stood up, alarms ringing in her head.
"What if she sabotaged it!" she thought. She walked to the exit, doubled back and rinsed her mouth a few times, then strode towards the recovery room where Bellatrix lay.
"There's no way someone could fake all that, could they?" Hermione thought. The thought of kissing Bellatrix Lestrange utterly revolted her, and given the Dark witch's absolute pure blood supremacy beliefs, the feeling should have been mutual.
"She called herself Bellatrix Black though," Hermione thought, "so something is definitely not normal. And why is she so young? Not to mention alive."
Now that the initial shock had worn off, dozens of questions Hermione had thought of in the days since her escape at the cathedral resurfaced and flew about her brain like dive bombing gulls. She burst back into the room, and Bellatrix opened her eyes and sniffled.
"You came back," she said.
Hermione ignored the wet tracks on her cheeks, stalked to the cup of veritaserum spiked water, and held it up to Bella's face.
"But… too much veritaserum is toxic," Bella said, and she looked up at Hermione with a pleading expression that not in a million years did she ever think she would see her wear.
"Drink," Hermione said. Bellatrix appeared torn for a split second, but apparently Hermione's lack of patience showed.
"Okay! Okay, I will," Bellatrix said. She started sucking the liquid down, gulp after gulp, and looked up into Hermione's face as she drank. Hermione watched as her eyes, dark, sliver-flecked Black family eyes, glazed over; she kept drinking until the straw slurped the bottom of the cup. Bella exhaled and slowly lay back on the pillows, mouth open, eyes half-closed, catatonic.
"Can you hear me?" Hermione asked.
"Yes," Bella replied weakly, only moving her mouth.
"How are you alive?" Hermione asked.
"I don't know. I woke up in my family's sub-vault, next to the Aevum," Bellatrix replied.
"Aevum, some kind of horcrux?" Hermione thought.
"The Aevum, what is that?" Hermione asked.
"A dark metal frame that I fell out of, into the sub-vault," Bella replied, "I don't know what it is or who made it. The last thing I remember before that, was 1968."
Hermione shook her head; was it a kind of reverse time turner? That didn't make any sense though, Bellatrix Lestrange had definitely existed for the past thirty years.
"Did you sabotage my project?" she asked.
"Yes," Bellatrix replied. Hermione's breath caught in her throat.
"No," Bella said weakly as she turned her face towards Hermione, "it works... I'm sorry. I'm sorry… I blew up… your ingredients."
"Blew up…" Hermione thought. Then she remembered… the accident caused by lack of sleep.
"You… that was you?" Hermione asked.
"And all this time I thought I'd blown it up myself," Hermione thought.
"Yes… I'm sorry," Bellatrix replied.
"Why did you blow them up?" Hermione asked.
"I wanted… to get… closer to you," Bella replied.
"What? How does that make any kind of sense? Ok…First things first," Hermione thought.
She rubbed her temples with her fingers.
"Will the… err, do you think the obliviation potion and charm we worked on will cure my parents?" Hermione asked. She had to phrase the questions correctly.
"Yes," Bellatrix nodded. Then she smiled faintly.
"Can I… still go with you?" Bella asked.
"She's completely out of it," Hermione thought as she shook her head slowly.
"Why did you even enrol at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked.
"I…," Bellatrix said, and her eyes rolled back for a second as her eyelids fluttered, "I wanted to get close to… Ginny…Weasley."
Hermione's eyebrows came together. Curiosity urged her to continue the line of questioning, and from the looks of it, the high dose of veritaserum would last for some time. They could get to the other, more important topics later.
"Why Ginny?" Hermione asked.
"Ginny Weasley was close to… Harry Potter. I could get close to Harry Potter," Bellatrix replied.
Hermione's eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Why did you want to get close to Harry?" Hermione asked.
"To kill him, and Ronald Weasley, and you, as revenge… for defeating… the Dark Lord," Bellatrix said. Hermione felt as if a large stone had dropped into her gut, and Bellatrix's eyes widened.
"Oh, Hermione, I don't want that anymore," Bellatrix said slowly as she forced the words out, "I don't. You have to… believe me."
"I don't have to believe anything," Hermione said, "do you want to hurt or kill Harry, or Ron, or me?"
"No," Bella replied, and she smiled slowly.
"Why did you change your mind?" Hermione asked.
"The Dark Lord…" Bellatrix replied, and her eyes widened, but compelled by the potion, she kept speaking, "told me he… was half-blood, and he would… murder me… once he returned to life, and discovered the secret… of how I survived, and created a new body."
"What?!" Hermione thought, and she heard some faint movement at the foot of the bed. She purposefully avoided looking in that direction and stepped forward to grip the railing of the bed to keep Bellatrix's attention on her.
"Is Voldemort alive?" she asked.
"No," Bellatrix replied.
"A ghost?" Hermione thought. The thought of Voldemort making yet another return from the dead was almost too horrifying to comprehend.
"Here is Bellatrix Lestrange… Black… though, alive and well for the past year, and if she could do it…" Hermione thought, "wait, she said she spoke to him."
"How did Voldemort communicate with you?" she asked.
"Through the… the Resurrection… Stone," Bella replied. The captured witch shook her head slowly.
Hermione cursed under her breath and muttered a muffliato charm on the door. She should have been more careful from the very beginning.
"Do you still have the stone?" Hermione asked quietly.
"No, I lost it… the night we slept in the common room," Bellatrix replied, "do you remember it Hermione? I was so happy…"
Hermione clearly recalled that morning, after Ginny awakened them, Julia had searched frantically for something…
"Hermione…" Bellatrix said, "don't let them send me to the dementors… please."
Hermione looked at her again, this young version of Bellatrix, without the Death Eater's tattoo. Bile rose in her throat again at the sight of her, but she acted completely different from the old Bellatrix.
"She can cast a patronus," Hermione thought, "still, though…"
"How do you feel about muggleborns?" Hermione asked.
"They're mostly useless," Bellatrix replied. Hermione frowned and Bella's eyes opened slightly wider.
"Wait. That's how I feel… about everyone. Ask me how I feel… about half-bloods… and pure bloods," Bellatrix said.
Hermione shook her head and resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"It's so Julia though," she thought.
"How do you feel about pure bloods?" she asked.
"They're mostly useless," Bellatrix replied. Then she giggled, and Hermione shuddered, because it was a close cousin of the deranged cackle she'd last heard over a year ago.
Hermione looked down at the bedsheets for a moment. Had their entire relationship been a lie? Was Julia White, who Hermione had thought she was falling in love with, a complete fabrication, or only partially?
"I'm a muggleborn…" Hermione said. Bellatrix's eyes widened as if she realised what Hermione was about to say.
"No, no, you can't ask that," she said, "Don't..."
"How do you feel about me?" Hermione asked.
"I love you, with all my heart. I would die for you," Bellatrix replied, and her mouth dropped open in shock just as Hermione felt something twinge in her chest. Bella swallowed and looked away with a forlorn expression, and Hermione felt as if she'd crossed a line by forcing her, a bedridden prisoner, to reveal such a deeply held, raw emotion against her will.
Hermione took a step and opened the door, and held it open for a few seconds as she looked over her shoulder at Bellatrix Black.
"Do you have contact with any Death Eaters? Are you working with them at all?" Hermione asked.
"No," Bellatrix replied without looking at her.
"Would you, if you had the opportunity?" Hermione asked.
"No," Bellatrix replied, still turned away from the door, "they'd kill you."
Hermione paused to watch her, this younger version of Bellatrix Lestrange, chained to the bed then she slipped out into the hallway. She walked past several occupied rooms, then tried the door of a vacant one and ducked inside. She held the door open for a few seconds and then closed and locked it, and cast a privacy charm.
Harry appeared next to her as he pulled the invisibility cloak from his body.
"What the absolute fuck?" he said.
"I know!" Hermione said as she paced the vacant hospital bedroom.
"She's in love with you?" Harry asked.
"I shouldn't have asked that," Hermione said as she shook her head.
"How is she still alive? The Aevum, have you ever heard of anything like that before?" Harry asked.
Hermione shook her head.
"I mean, it's not inconceivable that there are other magical devices out there that are like the… you know what's, that Voldemort used," Hermione said.
Harry stopped and stared into space for a moment.
"It's not the same though. When Voldemort came back, he wasn't… he wasn't fully human," he said, "She looks, I mean, she seems… normal. Not insane or deranged."
Hermione considered the implications of a device that could bring someone back to life as a younger version of themselves.
"If nobody died of old age anymore…" she thought.
"We have to find it," Harry said, "she said it was in a sub-vault, under her old family property, I bet Kreacher would know where it is. Then we can.. I don't know, figure something out."
"Or destroy it," Hermione said quietly.
"Right," Harry said. They both fell quiet for a moment.
"Thomas," Hermione said bitterly. Harry looked at her questioningly.
"Her ex, whom she broke up with, she said his name was Thomas," Hermione said.
She dropped a fist onto the sheets at the foot of the hospital bed.
"Idiot," Hermione muttered, "she knew things she couldn't have as a transfer student. I should have been more alert. Ginny was right…"
Now that the initial shock had started to set in, the realisation that her entire relationship was based on a lie, that the witty, sarcastic, driven, and clever girl she'd made love to for the past several weeks was actually Bellatrix Lestrange in disguise, that Julia White was a complete fabrication, stole her breath away. She started to hyperventilate, and sat down on the hospital bed.
"Harry… Harry we were dating," Hermione said, "we did things…"
She swallowed.
"I know," Harry said, "I mean… I don't but… I can imagine… Actually no, that's not true, I can't imagine. At all. But, I'm… I'm here for you, whatever you need."
He tentatively put a hand on her shoulder. She touched his hand with her own, then stood up and embraced him, lightly at first, and then tighter.
"I want to be angry, but… I was really happy… but it was all a lie," Hermione said, "the person I really want to talk to is Julia… and she's not even real. I'm so… I'm so…"
Harry took a step back to look at her, and she wiped a tear away from her face.
"I… sorry, I have no idea what to say," Harry said, "This situation is so completely fucked I don't even know where to start, but… when you left the room, she didn't know I was there… she thought she was by herself, and she was upset, like really upset."
"Upset that she's about to be dementor food," Hermione said, though she didn't fully believe it.
"The way she looked at you though, it was kind of the way she looked at You-Know-Who," Harry said.
Hermione forced the feeling of disgust down again.
"Ugh, don't say that," she said as she wiped her hands over her stomach and thighs, as if brushing off dirt.
"But you said she could cast a patronus… so maybe this Bellatrix isn't the same?" Harry said, "I still don't trust her as far as I can kick her, but… I mean I don't know, she could recover all her memories and then… then would we have a powerful, insane witch on our hands?"
"It doesn't much matter," Hermione said, "they're going to send her to Azkaban for life, at a minimum."
A piece of her heart broke when she said it; the thought of whatever truth there might be to a girl named Julia White vanishing in a Dementor's Kiss seemed too horrible to comprehend, but there was likely nothing she or anyone else could do to stop it, even if she wanted to.
"We need to see about that sub-vault," Harry said, "I need to take care of something first though; I'll send a patronus when I'm ready."
The early afternoon sun peeked out from behind clouds at Harry, who stood on a small side street near Diagon Alley and stared at the row of small flats. The scrap of DMLE Records parchment with the address written on it rested between his fingers, but now that he was on the urge of having to actually make a decision, he hesitated.
"Sod it, either he'll get over it, or he won't," Harry thought. He crumpled the address in his fist, walked up to the door, and knocked loudly. He heard some movement inside.
"Go away," Ron's muffled voice said.
"Come on Ron, you can't do this forever," Harry said.
"Watch me," came the reply, "how did you find me, anyway?"
"Personnel," Harry replied. Ron huffed from the other side of the door, and then it opened a crack.
"Peace offering," Harry said as he held up a pair of Cannons tickets.
The door closed for a second, and then opened again, and Ron held up a pair of nearly identical tickets.
"Tammy and I were supposed to go," Ron said.
"Oh," Harry said.
The door closed in his face again.
"Dammit, that… did not work out nearly as well as I'd planned," Harry thought. He would go into the old Black property alone with Hermione if he had to, but he would definitely feel a lot better if Ron were with them. No one else could be trusted, not if there was something in the basement akin to a horcrux, or some other way of cheating death. He knocked on the door again.
"I'm not leaving," Harry said.
The door opened again, fully this time, and Ron stood there wearing an orange Cannons jersey.
"If we're going to go, you need to be properly dressed," he said, and he tossed a second jersey at Harry, who caught it with both hands.
"Not that I really feel like going, but if Tammy were still with us and she found out I sat at home when I had perfectly good tickets, she'd never let me hear the end of it," Ron said.
Harry stood rooted to the spot as Ron locked the door and walked past him.
"Are you coming or what?" Ron asked without turning around.
Harry tugged the quidditch jersey over his head and followed his friend to a public floo.
"Chudley Stadium," Ron said. Harry followed right after him.
They arrived under partly sunny summer skies, and Harry had to apply a cooling charm so he didn't roast beneath his robes with the Cannons jersey on top of it. They found their seats in a relatively deserted section of wooden bleachers and joined the sparse few other spectators, mostly pensioners and their young grandchildren, for a weekday afternoon match. They sat in silence as the Falmouth Falcons were introduced, followed by the Cannons. Harry had only thought this far; he wasn't sure what he wanted to say exactly; he didn't particularly want to lead with what he and Hermione had discovered, though he was sure Ron would be there for the two of them. No, he was worried that if he led with that, they would never talk about Tammy, and somehow Harry felt it was important that Ron talk to someone about what had happened.
"They're shite again this year, all but mathematically eliminated from the playoffs again," Ron said.
"At least they'll have a high draft pick," Harry said.
Ron snorted.
"Fat lot of good that's done the past decade," he said.
They fell quiet again and Harry watched the players dipped and turned in the sky, like some kind of aerial ballroom waltz, as they went through their warmup routines.
"Sure would be nice, if that were my job," Harry thought.
He had been decent; odds are with a little work, he could turn pro.
"At least, I might be able to, if it weren't for everything else that needs to be done," he thought, "Maybe in another life."
"We used to come to as many matches as we could," Ron said, "glamoured, of course." Either Liz had told him she'd told Harry, or Ron had assumed he'd either figured it out or knew all along. It didn't really matter; Harry focused on his every word, but kept his eyes on the players.
"Couldn't risk word getting out, or it would be both our jobs," Ron said, "that's why there's no evidence. No photos, no letters, no one else who saw us together… almost like it never happened. Things were going well though, she was brilliant."
Harry nodded. Tammy had been brilliant: expert at transfiguration, avid cannons fan, a beautiful and talented witch who loved keeping in shape and who was eager to explore muggle fashion and nightlife.
"I figured, we wouldn't be on the same squad forever, and then we could date openly," Ron said, "I mean, Neville's parents were both Aurors, before… so why not?"
Harry nodded, and they watched the game, which had turned decidedly in favour of Falmouth.
"And that's the worst part. I'll never know if it would've worked out. Like maybe we would've got married, had kids. Sometimes, I wake up in the morning and wonder why I haven't talked to her in so long, or I'll see something funny or interesting and think I should tell her, and then I remember, I can't," Ron said, "and I think, if I'd just charged at that Snatcher instead of taking cover."
"Or if I'd stayed and taken him down with you first and then gone after Mulciber," Harry said, "then you wouldn't have gotten hurt."
"And I would have been there in Barnton," Ron said.
"I think I've gone through it at least a million times," Harry said, "if I'd stayed closer to the girls, if I'd assigned Liz to protect Tammy, if we'd waited to set up the wards."
"He would have got away Harry, and who knows how many other people might have been killed," Ron said.
"Maybe none," Harry said.
"Maybe twenty," Ron said, "the bastard summoned fiendfyre twice in the past six months."
"Still, I was team lead-" Harry said.
"It's not your bloody fault," Ron said, louder this time, "you did the best you could. Liz told me everything. Plus, I know you. I know you would have risked your own life to save her."
"Not like I haven't seen you do it enough times," Ron muttered.
Harry fell silent. He knew he was at least partially responsible, but it wouldn't do any good to belabour the point with Ron, who was hurting far worse than he was. The best he could do was keep going, and right now that meant telling Ron about everything that had happened with Julia and Hermione.
"Well, at least they might still catch the snitch," Ron said, "they'll need the tiebreaker for sure if they're going to have a shot at playoffs."
Less than a minute later, a long whistle blast heralded the capture of the golden snitch, by the Falcons' seeker.
"It's sad, I'm not even angry anymore," Ron said as the home team lost and stadium cleared out of the few spectators that had stayed until the bitter end. Harry and Ron sat glued to their seats.
"Are we okay?" Harry asked.
Ron sighed deeply, and nodded.
"Good, because I.. and Hermione, we need your help," Harry said.
Ron closed his eyes and shook his head slowly.
"What's happened?" he asked.
Harry licked his lips.
"Alright… this is going to sound absolutely insane, so, keep your voice down," Harry said.
"Just spit it out already," Ron said.
Harry cast a quick muffliato charm just to be sure, and the air filled with a low buzz.
"Do you remember how your mum killed Bellatrix Lestrange?" Harry asked.
Ron screwed up his face; it was clear this was possibly the last thing he expected Harry to say.
"Yeeahh?" Ron said.
"Well… turns out she's not quite dead," Harry said.
"What do you mean? The Ministry confirmed it…" Ron said, then he gasped and his eyes widened, "she had a horcrux!"
Harry shook his head.
"No, I don't think so, it's something else," Harry said, "that's why we need you though… I know where it is, or at least, how to find it."
"Wait, so she's definitely alive, are you sure?" Ron asked.
"Yeah, and this is the crazy part-" Harry replied.
"Crazier than Bellatrix Lestrange still being alive?" Ron asked.
"Just listen!" Harry said, then he paused, "bugger… did anyone tell you Hermione and Julia were dating?"
Ron squinted his eyes again.
"N…no, but I don't see how that's important right now… wait, like really dating?" Ron asked.
"Yes, full on, according to Hermione," Harry said. He let this fact set in for Ron first, despite the rest of the information struggling to burst forth.
"Wow… wow," Ron said as he turned to face the pitch again, "that actually explains a lot. You said 'were', so they're not dating anymore?"
Harry shook his head.
"No, but it's not like you're thinking. This is where things get really weird," Harry said, and he took a deep breath, "turns out, Julia White was Bellatrix Lestrange, in disguise, all along."
Ron turned to him and squinted again.
"You're having me on now," he said.
Harry shook his head.
"What the… how did..?" Ron said, then he rubbed his forehead, "ok, you know what, just start at the beginning."
Harry took a deep breath and explained the story as best he could, how Hermione had been looking for a potions ingredient and been captured by Rastaban Lestrange and Alecto Carrow, but had gotten off a patronus to Harry, who arrived as quickly as he could. How he found Hermione next to Bellatrix, who had been crushed when the building collapsed, and how they had interrogated her in St. Mungo's.
"She called herself Bellatrix Black, under veritaserum," Harry said, "she doesn't have the Dark Mark either, so something's definitely off, and I think it all has to do with this Aevum somehow."
"Aevum… Aevum… never heard of it," Ron said.
"Right, neither has Hermione," Harry said, "but Bellatrix said it was in a sub-vault beneath the old destroyed Black Manor."
"Which is yours now," Ron said.
"Which is mine now," Harry echoed, "and I'm sure Kreacher can get us inside."
"Right," Ron said. He rubbed a hand over his face in thought.
"Oh, there's one more thing," Harry said, "Bellatrix had the Resurrection Stone, but lost it. She'd been in contact with Voldemort."
"He's still alive?" Ron asked.
Harry shook his head.
"He's just a ghost, or a shade, or whatever it is you can talk to when you use the Stone. The thing is, we don't know who has it now," Harry said, "so… that could potentially be a problem too."
"D'ya think?" Ron said, "Merlin's balls, Harry, is there anything else you'd like to share?"
Harry thought for a moment. Should he mention his impending proposal to Ginny?
"No, I think that's it," Harry said.
Ron leaned forward in his seat and stared at the pitch again.
"Bellatrix is still locked up at St. Mungo's?" he asked.
Harry nodded.
"Only Hermione, myself, Liz, and Dawlish know she's there; we obliviated the healer who put her back together," Harry said, "and now you know, too."
Ron's eyes got a faraway look as he stared at the grass.
"Julia was Bellatrix all along… so when we were out at New Years…" Ron said, "she saved Hermione though. She fought Mulciber, on the stage, remember?"
Harry nodded.
"Doesn't make any sense," Ron said, "what's going to happen to her then?"
"Trial, and then Azkaban, most likely," Harry replied.
Ron nodded.
"Doesn't seem right, but… yeah, I don't see how she gets off. Maybe if it was someone else, but…" Ron said.
"Right," Harry said, "we can worry about that later. Right now, I want to get into the sub-vault. Hermione's waiting, so, if you're ready to go now..."
Ron slapped his thighs with both hands as he stood up.
"Right, what could possibly go wrong?" Ron said.
Harry grimaced.
"Expecto Patronum," he said, and his brilliant blue-white stag appeared in the bleachers with them, "Find Hermione, tell her to meet at Grimmauld Place."
The patronus bowed to him, then collapsed into a point of light and shot off into the sky.
Ron sighed heavily.
"She's gutted, by the way, as you can imagine," Harry said, "so…"
"I know," Ron said, "I think we're all a little bit fucked in the head right now, but… we've still got each other, right?"
Harry nodded.
"And we always will," Harry said, "you can count on that. Let's go."
They apparated to Harry's house with a pair of identical pops.
"Please don't tell me that with everything going on, you two took the time to attend a quidditch match," Hermione said.
"It's a long story," Harry said as he pulled the jersey over his head and handed it to Ron, who accepted it and stuffed both jerseys into his pouch.
"Hi," Ron said.
"Hi," Hermione replied.
Harry looked back and forth between the two of them.
"Bugger, I forgot. They haven't said a word to each other since the breakup," Harry thought.
"I'm sorry," Ron said.
"No no," Hermione said as she tried to cut him off, "I.. could have been better about things. Harry told me everything. I'm sorry about Tammy."
Ron's lips formed a faint grimace at the mention of her name.
"Harry told me about your… situation, too," Ron said, "I… I dunno what to say."
"Could we perhaps table this conversation for later?" Harry asked, "preferably when I'm not around?"
Hermione smirked at that.
"Right," Ron said, "friends?"
Hermione paused for a second, then smiled.
"Friends," she said.
Ron held his arms out wide, and Hermione embraced him tightly.
"I'm glad to have you back," Hermione said quietly.
"You never lost me," Ron said into her hair, "though, I definitely think we're better off as friends."
Hermione half-laughed, half-sobbed, and nodded, and Harry noticed Ron tearing up as well, though he tried to hide it.
"Brilliant," Harry said as his two best friends stepped back from one another, "Kreacher."
The ancient elf appeared with a soft pop.
"Master Harry has returned," he said.
"I wish you'd said something about dating Julia," Ron whispered, "I had no idea."
"We didn't exactly advertise it to the papers," Hermione whispered.
"Okay, I deserve that," Ron said, "but it's fine, really. I don't think it would have worked out between us anyway."
"Are we really going to do this now?" Harry asked, "have you forgotten we're kind of in the middle of something…?"
"What, why not?" Hermione asked as she completely ignored Harry.
"Well, I was thinking about it. Let me ask you, when do you want to have kids?" Ron asked.
Harry sat down on the couch.
"I guess so," he muttered.
"Would Master Harry prefer some tea and biscuits?" Kreacher asked.
Hermione found her voice again.
"I don't know, eventually?" she replied.
"See, I was thinking if I was going to have six or seven children, I'd rather start soon, like in the next few years," Ron said.
Harry sighed.
"Might as well, Kreacher," he said. The elf vanished with another pop.
"Six or seven! Ronald, if this is your way of proposing, you've a very funny way of going about it," Hermione said.
"Why not, I have… had… six siblings," Ron said, "it was chaos but it was grand. Of course, my mum had to stay home full time."
The quirk of Hermione's lips told Harry that that was absolutely not in the cards for her.
"Well, I'm an only child, and I thought that was grand," Hermione said, "plus, I definitely would like to have a career, maybe do some traveling first, before settling down and having children. Two at most."
Ron made a gesture as if to say 'see?', and Harry suspected he had been thinking about this exact conversation for some time.
"Wonderful," Harry said. Kreacher returned bearing a platter of three teaming cups of tea and a plate of what looked like apricot biscuits.
"Thank you Kreacher, set it on the table there please," Harry said, "and… I was hoping you could answer some questions for us."
The elf gently set the tray down and turned to Harry while Ron snagged a biscuit and started munching.
"Kreacher lives to serve the Noble House of Black," the house elf said.
"What can you tell me about the old Black Manor?" Harry asked.
"It was a stately home, filthy blood traitors destroyed it, many years ago," Kreacher replied.
"Was there a secret vault in the basement?" Harry asked.
Kreacher looked at Harry warily.
"Yes," the elf replied.
"Can you take us there?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Kreacher replied, and he shifted uncomfortably.
Harry narrowed his eyes.
"Is there something you wish to tell me, Kreacher?" Harry asked.
Kreacher tugged on one long ear, and nodded.
"Go on then, tell me what it is you wish to say," Harry said.
Kreacher threw himself forward and prostrated himself in front of Harry.
"Kreacher apologises to Master Harry! Kreacher serves the House of Black and young Miss is a daughter of the House, Kreacher helped her because she asked him to," he said.
"You knew… you knew Bellatrix was alive all this time?" Harry asked, "and you were helping her?"
It made sense now, how Bellatrix was able to get by without being seen by anyone…. Harry's own house elf was helping her.
Kreacher nodded.
"Young Miss instructed Kreacher not to tell anyone. Kreacher wished to tell Master Harry but Master Harry never asked," he said, "Master Harry must be angry, Kreacher is ready to punish himself."
"That… won't be necessary," Harry said.
"You could set him free," Hermione said.
"Nooo! Please, do not listen to the mu…ggleborn witch friend of Master Harry," Kreacher wailed.
"I'm not setting you free, Kreacher," Harry said.
Hermione crossed her arms as Kreacher quieted down.
"Harry… you have to give them standing instructions," Ron said, "things that will override what other members of the family might ask them to do."
"I didn't know there were any other members of the family, Ron," Harry said out of the side of his mouth, "but it's a good point."
Harry turned to face Kreacher again.
"Right, Kreacher, going forward, if there's any information you think I would like to know, you are to share it with me, preferably when I'm alone, but you can interrupt if it's an emergency," Harry said, "also, you're not to follow any of Bellatrix's instructions."
Kreacher, still on all fours, nodded vigorously.
"Okay, before we depart, is there anything else I should know?" Harry asked.
"Young Miss commanded Kreacher to do many things," Kreacher said.
"Did you hurt anyone?" Harry asked.
Kreacher shook his head.
"But Kreacher stole a wizard's wand, and a broom, and clothing and gold for young Miss," the elf said, "and food, and newspapers, many newspapers."
"Okay, umm… don't worry about that for now," Harry said as he filed it away for further investigation, "is it safe to travel to the hidden vault?"
Kreacher nodded.
"Take us there now," Harry said.
Kreacher stood up and held out a wrinkled arm, which Harry, Ron, and Hermione all grabbed hold of. Then they were twisting through the nothingness of side-along, and emerged on the other side in dank, pitch blackness.
Harry doubled over and swallowed to keep his food down. A dim light appeared above Kreacher's hand, illuminating a small, claustrophobic space. Harry and Hermione could stand up straight, but Ron had to duck slightly to avoid bumping his head. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all stone, but the dust had obviously been disturbed relatively recently. In one corner of the room, stone from above had collapsed through what used to be a staircase. Harry lit his wand, and Ron and Hermione both followed suit. He looked over the various empty shelves and a cabinet.
"There," Harry said, as he spotted a dark metal frame near the far corner of the vault.
The three of them gathered around the frame, which as he approached, reminded him of a large standing mirror, with a large oval space where Harry would expect to see himself.
"Harry…. it's made of the same metal as those ward stones in the casino," Ron said, "what did she call it?"
"Cold iron," Harry said.
Hermione held her wand higher.
"Oh wow," she said.
The magical light fell on the wrought metal design at the top of the Aevum and cast a shadow upon the wall; the vertical line and circle enclosed by a triangle was a symbol they all knew well: the Deathly Hallows.
"The three brothers were trying to find a way to defeat Death… is it possible they succeeded, and a young Bellatrix Black stumbled on their invention?" Harry thought.
"Where did she say it was from?" Ron whispered.
Harry shook his head.
"She only said it was in the vault," Harry whispered.
"Maybe the Blacks are related to the Peverells somewhere along the line?" Hermione whispered.
"It's possible," Harry said quietly, "we could check the tapestry."
Ron reached out and touched the edge of the metal frame with a single finger. Harry looked at him and turned one palm up as if to say 'are you mad?'
"What, it's not like I'm going to jump through it," Ron said.
"Alright, don't do anything else," Hermione said.
She started casting a few diagnostic spells, and then cast a few more.
"It doesn't look like anything special, just a metal frame," Hermione said.
"Kreacher, do you know anything about this object?" Harry asked.
"Young Miss said she fell out of it, there," Kreacher said.
Harry stepped back and held his wand close to the floor, where the stains of some long-dried liquid remained.
"Hmm," Harry said.
"What now?" he thought. He considered their options for a moment.
"Okay… I think… bloody hell, I wish we could just leave it here and forget about it, but Dawlish is going to want to see the memory of the interrogation, and he's going to want to know about the Aevum," Harry said, "I don't think we have a choice; we have to turn it over to the Unspeakables."
"We could destroy it," Ron said.
"Good idea Ron, let's act like we know for certain it won't level an entire city block if we try," Hermione said. Although it was exactly the same as her initial suggestion at St. Mungo's, Harry suspected nothing good would come of his pointing that out.
"Could do it over the ocean…" Ron muttered.
Harry could see that it might actually be worth the risk, despite Hermione's reservations. The problem was, they really had no idea what the Aevum actually did, or how it functioned.
"There's no telling what could happen, but if it's powerful enough to stop someone from dying or bring them back from the dead, and restore their youth…" Harry said, "let's just leave it here for the time being; it's been safe for the past year plus, it'll be safe until we figure out what to do with it."
The three of them stared at the frame for another minute, then they spread out and checked the rest of the vault, and, finding nothing except dust and debris and empty shelves, returned back to Grimmauld.
"What now?" Ron asked, once he'd recovered from side-along.
"I'll talk to Dawlish, see if I can keep some things hidden," Harry said, "not that I don't trust him, it's just…"
"The less people know, the better," Hermione said.
Ron turned towards her.
"Are you um… are you okay?" he asked.
Hermione opened her mouth to speak, then paused.
"Not really no," she replied, "but I suppose it's just one hour, one day at a time, for now. The potion for my parents is just about finished, so, I'll focus on that."
"Oh… right," Ron said as he rubbed the back of his head, "good luck."
"Thanks," Hermione said, "And that reminds me, I should get back to Hogwarts, finish it off… and break the news to Professor McGonagall. She should know Julia won't be returning, before it hits the Prophet."
Harry shook his head.
"It's probably a good thing you're traveling to Australia," Harry said, "once this breaks, it's going to be an absolute nightmare for at least a week."
Hermione groaned.
"Don't remind me," she said. She pulled out her wand, then turned to give Harry a hug. She turned to Ron, hesitated, then gave him a quick hug as well, then turned and apparated away with a pop. Harry looked at Ron, who stared off into space with a faraway expression on his face.
"Come on, I want to check the tapestry," Harry said, half because he was curious, and half because he wanted to give Ron something to do.
They climbed the steps to the attic where the Black family tapestry lay rolled up and leaned against a wall. Harry laid it down flat and started to unroll it. They went all the way back through the centuries, but didn't see any Peverells, but that didn't rule them out because not all of the faces had labels, especially the earlier ones. Harry did spot something near the end of the tapestry though.
"Now that's interesting," Harry said as he pointed next to the burnt-out spot where Andromeda's face used to be.
Bellatrix Black:
1951-
And then on a nearby branch of the tree:
Sirius Black
1959-
"I thought it stopped working after Sirius died, but…" Harry said. He and Ron looked at each other, and then back down at the tapestry. The implication of what a missing death date below Sirius' name might mean hung heavy in the air between them.
Hermione's thoughts swirled as she hiked up to the castle. Telling McGonagall could wait until tomorrow. In the spare potions classroom, she ignored the cathedral name circled at the bottom of the blackboard, Julia's goggles set neatly on one of the tables, everything except for the potion as she carefully removed the Hag's eye and added the final ingredient, a sprig of wolfsbane, to finalize it. She distilled and poured the brew into two bottles and stoppered them both, then held up the finished potions, and stowed them in her beaded bag.
As she closed the bag, she glanced at the tent.
"No way am I sleeping there tonight," she thought. She needed clothes and her toothbrush and everything else though. Hermione sighed and ducked through the flap, and spotted Julia's discarded robe on the floor.
"She must have dropped it here when she came after me," Hermione thought. More uncertain than ever, she picked the robe up off the ground and hung it up on its usual peg. With a few waves of her wand she split the bunks up and sent them back to their original spots, on opposite sides of the room. She sniffled a few times as they settled back in their rightful positions. All the wondrous, pleasure filled evenings… she'd almost started to think of herself as desirable, but now the only thing that remained was a hollow, confused feeling.
"First things first, fix your parents. I'll book the portkey tomorrow," she thought.
She left the dungeons and climbed to the top of Gryffindor tower, back to her old dorm room.
Chapter 36 Trigger Warnings: Sex, Kidnapping, Torture, Threat of Noncon