Harry Potter and the Aevum of Eternity

by Thundercracker-TC

The survivors of the second wizarding war suffer the scars of Voldemort's reign as they struggle to pick up the pieces of their lives. Harry is spread thin across multiple responsibilities as he and Ron join the Aurors, where new challenges and mysteries await. Not all is as it seems though, and powerful forces lurk in the darkness, biding their time... Cover art by a.heesher

46. Chapter 46

Harry Potter is owned by JKR

Warning: Minor cursing & blood

Chapter 46

Bellatrix snapped her eyes open and inhaled deeply. Instead of the chilly, sterile ward in St. Mungo's, her hands found a firm mattress and high-quality sheets. The early morning sun illuminated Hermione's cosy guest room in soft, grey light through the closed blinds, and even though Bella knew she was safe, the sense of foreboding from her unsettling dreams followed her into the waking world; there would be no falling back to sleep for her. She peeked into the hallway and made her way to the loo. She brushed her teeth and splashed some cold water on her face to try and shake off the last dregs of sleep, then scrubbed extra hard with the hand towel, leaving rosy marks on her forehead and cheeks. When she opened the door, she nearly ran smack into Hermione.

"Oh, sorry," Hermione said as she stifled a yawn. She wore only her purple nightgown, and in her hands she carried the shampoo and body wash from the cottage in Scotland.

"Beautiful," Bella thought.

"Morning," she said.

"Morning," Hermione replied. Bellatrix awkwardly sidled past her… lover? Ex-girlfriend? Flatmate? Their current status was unclear, but Bellatrix was still thinking about it when the loo door closed and the shower started running. Disappointed in herself for still feeling hollow even after a full night's sleep, Bellatrix descended the steps to the kitchen to fix them both some breakfast. She'd decided to do whatever it took to win Hermione back, and she figured being extra nice couldn't hurt. It took a few moments of experimentation to get a steady flame from the stove, but before long, a several eggs and a few strips of ham sizzled on a skillet. The doorbell rang, interrupting her thoughts, and Bella grumbled as she turned off the fire walked to the foyer to nudge the curtain to peek through the window next to the front door.

Harry Potter, wearing his Auror blues, stood on the front porch, facing away from her. Bella unlocked and opened the door, letting the cool, crisp morning air in. He turned around and stopped as he caught sight of her in her nightgown.

"Err, hi," he said, "is Hermione here?"

"Shower," Bellatrix replied.

"Make nice, Bella," she thought to herself.

She opened the door wider and gestured for him to enter.

"I'm making ham and eggs, if you'd like to wait," she said.

He hesitated for a second.

"Umm… sure," Harry said.

She let him close the door and returned to the stove to continue cooking. A few minutes later, three steaming plates sat on the granite countertop, and Bellatrix poured herself a glass of orange juice. She shook the cardboard container at Harry, who declined. Bellatrix balanced the three plates and brought them and her glass to the table, then sat across from Harry and silently took a small bite of the still steaming eggs. It wasn't the best, but compared to the slop at St. Mungo's and whatever gruel she'd been provided in prison, it was heaven. He shifted in his seat as the silence stretched, and Bellatrix giggled internally at his discomfort.

"You look like Bellatrix Lestrange, but you're so… normal," Harry said.

"A lesser witch might be insulted," Bellatrix replied.

He ignored her response.

"Have you had any other symptoms?" he asked.

"Only nightmares," Bellatrix replied.

She didn't elaborate; she didn't have to. A flash of pity stole across Harry's face, and her hackles rose immediately; he was already treating her differently after what happened, but all that did was remind her of her helplessness.

"Who are you talking to?" Hermione asked as she padded down the steps, "Oh morning Harry, did you forget something?"

Harry stood up and turned around as Hermione, fully dressed in muggle jeans and a pink long-sleeved shirt, stepped off the staircase.

"Stopping to check in and pass you my new phone number," Harry said as he produced a folded piece of paper, "it's a mobile."

"You have a mobile phone?" Hermione asked.

"Just to keep in touch with Dudley," Harry said, "and now you too, I suppose."

"Won't it be fried in a week?" Hermione asked as she transferred the number to a small black notebook.

"No. They're selling these in Diagon now," Harry replied as he held up a small leather pouch with a drawstring, there's a rune on the inside that protects the phone from nearby magic."

He slipped the phone out of the pouch and handed them both to Hermione.

"Really. That's handy," she said as she looked the pouch and phone over.

"Any word on Clark?" Bellatrix asked.

Harry shook his head.

"We're keeping an eye on his parents in case he tries to contact them again," Harry said, "we'll get him, and as soon as we do, you'll be the first to know."

Anger that he hadn't been caught yet, and shame as she hadn't done it herself, fought for supremacy in her chest but she stayed silent. Harry snapped his fingers.

"Oh, one more thing, the new Minister wanted me to let you know he's put in the request to have your community service overseen by him, and you should receive an owl sometime this week," he said.

"That's good, but I wonder what he has in mind," Hermione said, "it seems a bit odd he's intervening to this degree. Not that I'm complaining."

"I thought you trusted him," Bellatrix said, and Hermione shrugged.

"Right, well… I suggest laying low until it starts," Harry said, "at least stay out of Wizarding Britain. There's a lot of attention on the both of you, and it might not be safe."

"It would be safer if I had a wand," Bellatrix said. Hermione glanced at her, and then to Harry.

Harry thought about it for a few seconds.

"There's no law that says you can't purchase one, but… maybe hold off for a little bit, at least until the community service is done," he said.

Bellatrix shook her head and focused on spearing speared her eggs again, while Hermione handed the pouch and phone back to Harry.

"You should get one too," Harry said as he slipped his phone back inside, "that way I can reach you, and it's less obvious than a patronus."

"Okay, I will," Hermione said.

"I need to get to work, please try to avoid any incidents. They're going to be watching you, looking for the chance to throw you in prison," he said, and he turned to Bellatrix, "especially you."

"I promise not to start any fights," Bellatrix said.

"Though anyone who takes a shot at me is going to be sorry," she thought.

"Right, good luck with the community service, you'll let me know how it goes?" Harry asked.

"Of course," Hermione replied.

She walked him to the door and Bellatrix watched them hug briefly and exchange a few more words before Hermione closed it gently. Bella tried to catch her gaze as she sat down again, but Hermione stared at her plate.

"See, Potter and I can get along," Bella said.

"It doesn't matter," Hermione said, "I told you already, we can't."

The words stung, but not as much as they once did.

"Push back, tell her it's not impossible," she thought, but it was immediately followed by another, "she doesn't want you because of what happened. Nobody's going to want you; you're dirty, tainted goods."

Bellatrix looked down at her eggs, and although her appetite had fled, she forced herself to take another bite. She hated this feeling, this hesitation, this weakness.

"Why the fuck should I care if anyone wants me?" she thought, "I'm Bellatrix Black! I'm more than enough witch all by myself…"

Strong words, but they didn't fill the hole in her heart.

"You can think it all you want, Bella, it doesn't change the fact that something's broken," she thought, "but that's okay, you can fix it, just need to focus."

The sound of clattering dishes brought her back to the present.

"I'm going shopping," Hermione said.

"I'll get changed," Bellatrix said as she stood up.

"No, it's okay. I… I could use the alone time," Hermione said, "do you need anything while I'm out?"

"Say 'I need you'," Bellatrix thought, "tell her you need her."

But the words refused to form.

"Right, well… I can always head out again later, if you think of something," Hermione said as she slipped her shoes on. Then she was gone, out the front door. Bellatrix had wanted to have some kind of talk, a reconciliation, but instead, she watched Hermione's back from the window until she was out of sight. For some reason this hit her hard and her vision blurred as tears welled up. She slapped herself across the cheek, hard, and then she did it again and angrily jammed the heels of her palms into her eye sockets until dancing lights appeared in the darkness.

"Get it together, Bella. What in Merlin's name is wrong with you?" she thought as she sniffled and stalked up the steps to take a shower.

She knew exactly what was wrong with her though, and her mind started traveling down dark alleys, fantasizing about what she would do to Clark if she ever got her hands on him.

"I need to get out of here, do something to keep my mind occupied," she thought. But Harry had strongly suggested she stay, and besides… Hermione would be home soon.

That afternoon, a Ministry owl arrived and delivered a letter through the mail slot advising them of the time and place they were to start their community service: Abel Winthrop's residence.

Please be prompt. Tardiness will be treated as an attempt to avoid your sentence.

"Wonderful. You'd think they'd give us more advance warning," Hermione muttered. Bella looked at her questioningly and Hermione pointed to the end of the paragraph.

"They say to take the floo, but my fireplace isn't connected," Hermione said.

"Lovely," Bellatrix said, "public floo in Diagon?"

"Probably the best bet," Hermione said, "I wanted to pick up some potions equipment too, some things the school provided. That means we don't have much time… side-along?"

Bellatrix made a show of sighing, but the simple act of closing her hands around Hermione's forearm had her stomach fluttering. The nausea of side-along washed over her as they apparated to the outskirts of Diagon Alley. The twisted lanes stretched out in front of them, and wizards and witches clogged the walkways.

"Bugger. You'd think with school in session it would be less crowded," Hermione said.

"Last minute purchases maybe," Bellatrix said, "come on, it's just a quick stop."

She kept hold of Hermione's elbow and led the way between the shops. She wanted to hold Hermione's hand, to feel Hermione stroke her thumb like she used to, but the nagging doubt, the uncharacteristic lack of faith in herself, froze her hand where it was and prevented it from sliding down to lace fingers. They attracted a few looks but everyone seemed content to mind their own business. As they stood in the checkout queue at Slug and Jiggers though, Hermione with a case of silver knives under one arm, Bellatrix heard something, barely audible.

"Cunt"

She turned her head; it wasn't immediately clear who said it.

"Excuse me?" a young dark-skinned wizard, barely into his twenties, said.

"You heard me," another wizard said, this one with brown hair, a few patrons back. He pointed at Bellatrix and Hermione, "she's a Death Eater, Voldemort loving cunt, and she's just as bad for defending her."

"That's Hermione bloody Granger!"

"I don't give a flying fuck!"

"Oi, everybody calm down!"

Hermione turned around as shouting erupted behind them, and patrons quickly formed into two small crowds, shouting at each other. A third group, mostly parents by the look of them, fell back into the aisles and tried to stay out of the way.

"No fighting in the shop! I'll call the Aurors!" the witch behind the counter said as wands appeared in hands.

"Please, don't!" Hermione said as she held her hands up and stepped between the two groups, "we're going!"

An object sailed through the air and struck Bellatrix in the back, and her eyes widened in alarm. Then she felt a small pop and nearly gagged as she caught a whiff of rotten eggs and faeces.

"Dungbomb!" someone shouted. A rush for the exit ensued with people jamming the doors and spilling onto the street.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Hermione said over and over as she dropped the parcel onto the counter.

"It's stuck," Bellatrix said as she held her nose with one hand and tried to prise the dungbomb off her robes with the other.

"Forget it," Hermione said as she pulled the robe off and threw it on the floor of the shop. The two of them followed the last of the patrons out onto the street, coughing and gagging.

"Ugh, it's not going away!" Bellatrix said as she looked at her hands.

"Me either," Hermione said as she looked at her sleeves, "but we don't have time."

The two of them dodged shoppers and made for the public floo.

"Abel Winthrop's residence," Hermione said as she tossed the powder. Bellatrix was right behind her, appearing in a blast of green fire. She felt a tingle at the back of her neck as she appeared on the ground floor of a small stone cottage.

"Probably a ward protecting the home," she thought, "Or to let him know if we leave."

Professor Winthrop, wearing blue dress robes and his usual horn-rimmed glasses, stood up from a comfortable looking chair.

"Right on time," he said, "I-… oh, Merlin, what is that smell?"

He covered his nose, then produced a handkerchief.

"Sorry Professor, err, Minister, we had a run-in on the way here, and someone stuck a dungbomb on Bella," Hermione said, and Bellatrix shot her a look at the use of her nickname. Hermione, apparently oblivious, quickly conjured a bubble-head charm for both herself and Bellatrix, and Winthrop did the same for himself.

"That… is unfortunate. The good news is I don't think it will affect what I have planned," Winthrop said, his voice slightly muffled, "though I do want to get started as quickly as possible. You wouldn't believe the kind of hoops I had to jump through, even as Minister for Magic."

"We appreciate it, sir. What is it we'll be working on?" Hermione asked.

"Some alchemy," Winthrop replied, "I've looked over your formula, and since it is a water-based potion, there is a magical reagent I believe should serve as a catalyst to speed up the process for faster brewing of a more potent potion, assuming there is sufficient supply of black filament. I also believe that, without requiring a Hag's Eye, it will be far more likely to gain the seal of approval from the Council of Master Healers."

"That's… that would be excellent. What's the reagent?" Hermione asked.

"Orichalcum," Winthrop replied.

Bella scoffed.

"Orichalcum, why not ask us to create a Philosopher's Stone while we're at it?" she asked.

"Funny you should mention that," Winthrop muttered. He stood up and motioned them to follow him into the next room. Bellatrix trailed Winthrop and Hermione into what appeared to be a converted kitchen. Alchemical equipment, from glass tubes, trays, alembics, beakers, various cauldrons, and even what appeared to be a salamander egg fired kiln, were set up around the walls of the room and on a table placed in the centre, leaving only a small path to move about. Near the door, facing away from the entrance, stood a rich purple velvet blanket thrown over the top of what could have been a large a mirror frame.

"This is where you'll be working for the duration of your community service," Winthrop said, "you're going to try to create a small amount of orichalcum, and then we will test it on your obliviation cure."

Hermione picked up a glass stirrer.

"I appreciate the vote of confidence sir, but I wouldn't even know where to start," Hermione said, "In fact, I thought only goblins could create orichalcum, to make their weapons and armour magic resistant, and that they guard the secret carefully."

The new Minister for Magic smiled knowingly.

"That's not entirely true," Winthrop said, "creation of orichalcum requires two individuals who share a strong affinity with one another. Goblins of the same clan do share a closer bond than most wizards and witches. That makes it easier for them, but it is definitely not impossible for us."

"You sound like you're speaking from personal experience," Bellatrix said.

Winthrop paused and nodded.

"I'd do it myself. Unfortunately, there is nobody left alive with whom I share such an affinity," Winthrop said, and to her eyes, he suddenly seemed far older than his years for a moment.

Hermione gasped.

"I'm sorry, this is your father's house, isn't it," she said, "it was here that…"

"Yes, upstairs in the bedroom," Winthrop said, "but your cure is important, so I have resolved to put my personal feelings aside and do what must be done, so that others might benefit."

He cleared his throat.

"Now, since I will not have the time to guide you myself, I have taken the liberty of bringing in an expert," Winthrop said as he gestured to the covered frame, "he and I have had a falling out of sorts, so it is important he doesn't see me, but other than that, he should be very helpful in instructing you in exactly what needs to be done to create a small measure of orichalcum."

"But-" Hermione said.

"I am sorry, I need to get back to the Ministry," Winthrop said, "best of luck, I know you can do it. Oh, one more thing, this is community service, so unless it is an emergency, do not leave the cottage until sunset each day."

With that, he turned and, from the rear of the frame, pulled off the velvet blanket and carried it with him back to the floo. Far from being a mirror, the frame was actually a blackboard on wheels. As Bellatrix looked closer, she realised it looked suspiciously like a Hogwarts blackboard. An ornate picture frame faced them, stuck to the board itself. Inside the frame, a wizened old man with a mane of pure white hair reclined, dozing as he rested on a stool and leaned against a counter. Behind him, a merry fire blazed and all sorts of alchemical equipment bubbled, steamed, and whirred. Much of it looked similar to what Winthrop had provided in the renovated kitchen. The old man seemed somehow familiar, but Bella couldn't place his face. Hermione though, leaned forward and squinted her eyes.

"Nicholas Flamel?" she asked.

The snoozing elderly man startled and opened his light brown eyes.

"Eh, who calls?" he asked. He glanced around for a moment and then focused on the two girls standing in front of his portrait.

"Oohhhh, and who might you two be?" he asked.

"Err, I'm Hermione Granger, and this is… this is Bellatrix Black," Hermione said.

"Ah, very pleased to make your acquaintance," he said. The figure inside the portrait looked them up and down appraisingly, in turn.

"Hmm," he said.

"Do you know how to create a Philosopher's Stone?" Bellatrix asked.

Hermione shot her a glare as the figure in the portrait sighed.

"Unfortunately no, my creator deliberately kept that knowledge from me; it's like a hole in my thoughts, very unsettling," Flamel said.

"That's not actually why we wanted to speak with you," Hermione said as she nudged Bella with her elbow, "we've been tasked with creating some orichalcum. We think it can be used as a reagent in a cure we've developed… is that something you would be able to help with?"

Flamel's expression lit up as he rose to his feet and lifted a finger.

"Ahhh, yes, that is something I could help with, but it requires two alchemists, two with a strong connection," Flamel said, "I wonder if the two of you share such a bond."

Bella looked at Hermione who caught her eye, and her heart sank at the apprehension she saw there; Hermione turned back to the portrait.

"I'm not sure, but we have to try," Hermione said.

Flamel clapped his hands.

"Excellent, clear your schedules, this will take the better part of a month," he said, "our first task is to alchemically purify samples of four metals: copper, silver, gold, and quicksilver. To do this, we will need..."

As Flamel's portrait lectured, the two girls got to work inspecting the lab to determine if it was stocked with the necessary equipment and supplies.

"What do you think about all this?" Hermione asked quietly as they checked one cabinet after another.

"About what?" Bella asked.

"About this whole community service?" Hermione asked.

"It's better than shovelling dragon dung," Bella replied, "though I expected the dragon dung to smell worse, somehow."

She rubbed her dungbomb infused palms together gingerly as Hermione arranged a few beakers on trays.

"Why do you ask?" Bella asked.

"Something seems off about this whole thing," Hermione said, "why go out on a limb at all to protect us? Obviously he's very political; he must want something… could he need the orichalcum for something else? And where did he get a portrait of Nicholas Flamel?"

Bellatrix stopped sorting equipment and openly stared at her partner.

"Whatever he wants… I don't much care, it's better than Azkaban, and if it helps the cure, all the better," she said, "plus, there are worse things than being stuck in a workshop with you for a month."

Bellatrix snapped her mouth shut. Hermione took a deep breath and closed her eyes, then the muggleborn refocused on the alchemy equipment.

"Did I imagine that?" Bella thought as she watched her partner's hands arrange several beakers, "did she just push her feelings aside?"

"Please don't look at me like that," Hermione said, "we have a job to do, let's stay professional."

Bella swallowed.

"Why?" she asked.

"Why should we stay professional?" Hermione asked as she arranged the beakers, then rearranged them.

"Aren't we meant to have a close affinity in order to combine these metals properly?" Bellatrix asked.

Hermione closed her eyes, put her hands on the edge of the counter, and bowed her head slightly.

"We agreed we wouldn't act on our feelings, so that's that," she said.

"She's admitting she still has feelings!" Bellatrix thought.

"But if we both-" Bella said.

"We've been through this already. It's a horrible, horrible idea, that would only end in tears," Hermione said as she looked up, "whatever I feel is just residual… echoes, leftover from school, and the entire thing was built on a lie. I have no idea who you are, not really."

"She doesn't really believe that. Introduce yourself," Bellatrix thought, "hold out your hand as if you're meeting her for the first time, as a way to start over."

"Wasn't that horrible," Bella mumbled instead.

"But what if that's not the real reason… what if it's because of what happened to you?" Bella thought, and she hesitated.

"Let's get back to work," Hermione said, and she refocused on setting up the lab. Numb, Bella watched her for a moment, and she cursed her own weakness, hated who she'd become.

"She would do it," she thought, "Bellatrix Lestrange would have never hesitated to reach out and take what she wanted."

Instead of reaching out to Hermione though, she turned back to the cabinets, and cursed her indecision again. In less than an hour, they'd catalogued everything Winthrop had stocked for them, including boxes containing small bars of the metals they needed to purify, with the quicksilver in a quartet of small, stoppered vials.

"Excellent," Flamel said, "now, the first task is to purify the copper..."

That day, Hermione and Bellatrix exchanged pleasantries but nothing more, and it was the same the following morning. The hours bled into days, and the days into weeks, until the stench of the dungbomb was only a distant memory. As they worked in the lab to alchemically purify the metals, they fell into routine, and it was almost like old times back in the lab again. By day, at their incremental successes, Bellatrix longed to reach out for Hermione, to embrace, to wrap her arms about her and hold her tightly, if only for a moment. Every time though, she lost her nerve with a nod and a smile as she suffered through awkward meals and ignoring one another as Hermione read and Bellatrix went through her prescribed exercises to recover her strength. By night though, alone in Hermione's guest room, she squeezed her pillow and recalled, as best she could, the happiness and contentment in their tent over the final few months of school, whispering in the dark to nobody until sleep took her. Unable to practise occlumency in her sleep, the nightmares spawned by her stay in Azkaban followed her incessantly. Sometimes the abuse Clark subjected her to replayed in vivid detail, others were different, where she had him at her mercy but hesitated before finishing him, allowing him to rise to his feet, pluck her wand from her hand, and leave her helpless again. Whenever she woke, she tried to turn her fear and impotence into rage, imagining what kind of torture she would put Clark through if she ever got her hands on him, but something was missing; the anger sputtered and died, and in the end, she still felt weak and sleep deprived.

"Who are you kidding… you can't face down Clark, a trained Auror… you're too afraid to even try and hold her hand," Bella thought.

Said hand currently held a single page of the Daily Prophet between two delicate fingers as Hermione scanned through it while chewing sliced bananas and muggle cereal. She looked up and made eye contact, and Bella's heart skipped a beat; she smiled in response.

"You're not hungry?" Hermione asked as she nodded to Bella's untouched bowl.

"I am, I just… I'm fine," she said. She forced herself to take a bite.

"It's another prison," Bellatrix thought. Her heart thumped as she watched the unattainable object of her desire read and eat breakfast only a few feet away, "another kind of torture... the bitter pill of silence."

Hermione's eyebrows came together and she huffed, then she started reading aloud.

"Your comments regarding last week's article 'What is Wrong with Hermione Granger?'," she said, "'She must be under the influence of a love potion, there's no way Hermione would ditch Ron Weasley, another hero of the war, to chase after a Death Eater.' 'Order of Merlin or not, she deserves to be Kissed just as much as Lestrange for helping her escape Azkaban, it's only a matter of time.' 'She put a dozen students in the school Infirmary this past year, she's obviously dangerous and needs to be watched.'"

Hermione set the paper aside and rested her elbow on the table, with a few finger tips pressed against the side of her forehead. Although she tried to hide it, Bella knew the public's comments had gotten to her again.

"They don't know you," she said.

"I know," Hermione said.

"If they knew you like I know you…" Bella said.

"Don't be too sure, it's entirely possible those responses aren't even real," Hermione said as she turned the paper over, but Bellatrix knew she didn't believe it.

"Tell her. Tell her all the great, wonderful things that she is, and what she means to you," Bella thought, but her lips stayed closed.

"Come on, we've got to get to the lab," Hermione said. They apparated to the grassy hill just outside the old cottage. The weather had definitely turned cooler under the overcast sky, and Bella shook off the nausea of side-along. She felt the familiar tingle as they entered the old stone home.

"Welcome back," Flamel's portrait said, "final stretch, lots to do today, let's get started. Pour out the excess solution we left overnight, and what remains should be pure alchemical gold."

Already moving, Hermione dumped the mixture into the sink and rinsed it down the drain with tap water. She dumped the purified gold dust left behind into a small crucible and set it to fire in the oven, to melt into small bars.

"Last one," Bella said, "after this, all that's left is the circulation to distil the orichalcum."

Hermione took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

"You'll do fine," Flamel said, "I may only be a portrait, but you two are some of the quickest learners I've ever worked with. I'm almost certain your reagents are pure enough to distil at least some measure of orichalcum."

Hermione smiled and looked about to respond, but the floo whooshed from the next room. Hermione and Bella stepped out to see Winthrop setting a large metal box on the coffee table near the fireplace.

"Good morning," he said, "you're probably wondering what's in the box, hmm? It happens to be a rather large quantity of black filament. Once we have a few grams of orichalcum, we will brew the potion and test whether we can use it to create a stronger version of your obliviation cure."

"That's amazing sir," Hermione said, "assuming we can even make some… I'm not all that familiar with the properties of orichalcum, are you sure it's safe?"

"It's only a catalyst, so it won't be absorbed into the potion itself. I have permission from next of kin to test it on one of the long-term patients in St. Mungo's," Winthrop said, "based on the ingredients, there should be no danger, but we are legally covered in any case."

Hermione looked about to protest, but bit her lip instead.

"Right, this will go into the cellar, and I'll ensure the windows are properly blacked out before we start brewing," Winthrop said as he picked up the box, "are we on track for orichalcum?"

"Should be only a day or two," Hermione replied.

"Excellent," Winthrop said as he opened the door and clumped down the wooden steps into the basement.

Bellatrix hmm'ed and turned to Hermione.

"Is it odd he just happened to have an entire crate of black filament in a light-proof box?" Bella whispered.

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment.

"He helped review our submission; he knows it's the ingredient that'll be most difficult to find. Plus, he's the Minister for Magic now, I'm sure it was almost trivial for him to acquire," Hermione replied, "and of course it's in a light proof box, how else would he transport it here?"

Bella supposed that Hermione was correct. Besides, it was Professor Winthrop; he was trustworthy. They returned to the now noticeably warmer alchemy lab and Bella removed the crucible holding the gold with a pair of tongs and set the container on a rack to cool. After they cleaned everything else up, they opened the small container to find three perfectly shaped small gold bars at the bottom. Bellatrix held one with a pair of tongs while Hermione dripped wiggenweld sap down the surface of one and onto specially prepared parchment. The paper darkened slightly with the moisture and Bella held her breath for a few seconds, but no other colours appeared.

"We did it," Hermione said quietly.

Bella smiled.

"We did it!" she said. This time, she forgot herself and for a second; she was back at Hogwarts, and they were Julia and Hermione working on an impossible cure for obliviation. She threw her arms around the muggleborn and only realised her mistake when Hermione stiffened up and breathed in sharply. Then she felt it, a soft exhale near her ear, arms up her sides and about her back, lightly pressing at first, and then tighter, until they clutched one another in the centre of the lab. The rest of the world faded to darkness; after so long of being so close to Hermione and so distant at the same time, Bella sighed and relished the moment as she pressed Hermione against her, savoured her scent like the finest red wine, prayed it would never end. In what could have been ten seconds or an hour, Hermione's grip loosened, and reluctantly, Bellatrix also let go. Hermione looked to the side with her eyes closed and brushed past Bellatrix.

"Excuse me," Hermione whispered.

Bellatrix caught sight of tear tracks on her cheeks as she passed.

The kitchen door slammed and clicked locked, leaving Bella alone in the lab again. She leaned over and put both hands on the table to steady herself, then glanced up at the portrait, but it was empty.

"It was just a hug," Bella thought as she tried to dampen her expectations, "but… maybe it could lead to something more, some kind of thaw?"

The door clicked and opened again and Hermione re-entered, all traces of any tears wiped away.

"Let's settle the circulation, and then we're done," she said. No mention of what they'd just shared, right back to the way things were.

A spark of anger flared. Frustration at being punished for things she didn't even recall, the indignity of her suffering in prison, the incompetence of the Aurors for letting Clark get away, and then not being able to find him, not to mention the constant nightmares and interrupted sleep; she had been on a razor's edge for weeks! Now Hermione of all people ignoring her? Ignoring the obvious connection between them? Emotion exploded out of her like a geyser.

"What, we're not going to talk about that?" she asked.

"There's nothing to talk about," Hermione replied as she refused eye contact.

"Yes there is. You…" Bella said, but she trailed off.

"You still have feelings for me," she thought.

"I what, I have to feel whatever it is you think I should?" Hermione asked as she slammed a pair of tongs on the counter, "do I not have a say?"

"Of course you do, but at least be honest-" Bella said, and Hermione let out a sharp laugh.

"Honest, that's good a good one coming from you, all things considered," Hermione said.

"Well what was I supposed to do?" Bella asked.

"I don't know, not hug me just now?" Hermione said as she rounded on Bellatrix, "or better yet, not ever kiss me in the first place?"

"Well… well, I couldn't help it," Bellatrix said as she crossed her arms, "you're too beautiful, so… this is entirely all your fault."

The voice in her head yelled at her that she was only setting herself up to be rejected, but the shoved it aside and smirked as Hermione sputtered.

"Now, it's perfect, you can kiss her when she's distracted," Bella thought.

Before she could think about moving, Hermione pointed the tongs at her.

"Don't you dare," she said, "I will hex you."

Bella rolled her eyes.

"You're telling me you don't want a teensy little snog, not even a little bit to celebrate?" Bella asked.

"No," Hermione replied, but Bella knew she was just being stubborn.

"Ha, now who's lying," she said with a smirk.

Hermione growled.

"Fine, maybe a little, but someone needs to be the adult in this whole situation, and it's obviously not going to be you," Hermione said, "healthy relationships aren't based on lies."

Bellatrix exhaled forcefully. It was not a pleasant conversation, but she still loved every second of it; Hermione was talking to her again, really talking, not chatting about alchemy or the weather.

"Come on, you're acting like us being together will be the end of the bloody world or something," Bella said, "trust me, nobody cares."

"Trust you? You, the person who lied about who she was and faked an entire relationship?" Hermione asked, "I'm probably going to have trust issues for the rest of my life because of you. I've half a mind to obliviate the entire relationship from my head! The only reason I haven't is because I need to remember why I can't trust you."

"I didn't fake it though," Bella thought as her chest ached again, "I loved her so completely… I still do."

Hermione sighed heavily and crossed her arms again, tongs pointing out to one side. Her words wounded, but Bellatrix couldn't be angry with her, so she stayed silent and cursed her stupidity for not telling Hermione about the cathedral earlier.

"You probably don't even see anything wrong with what you did, do you?" Hermione asked quietly. Bellatrix decided it was not a rhetorical question. She leaned against the door jamb, still happy that they were speaking at all.

"I wouldn't want to erase it from my mind, that's certain," Bella replied, and she felt tears well up as she again remembered those last few months at Hogwarts, "I was happy after all, happier than I'd ever been; I wouldn't trade that for anything. If I had to do it all over again I might do… certain things differently. Definitely would avoid that trip to Azkaban. I don't know. I don't even know how or why I'm here. Nothing makes any sense, except I know how I feel when we're together."

She sniffed and refused to let her tears fall. Hermione was right in front of her and couldn't reach her.

"I'm the only friend you have in the whole world, aren't I?" Hermione asked quietly.

Bellatrix opened her mouth to respond, then closed it; it was true.

"Don't you think it's possible that's why you feel the way you do?" Hermione asked.

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes.

"Don't patronise me," she replied, "I know what I like and what I don't. I can't stand to be around most people, but you're different. And if that's not enough to convince you, need I remind you that after merely spending upon hours and hours together, you helped me conjure a corporeal patronus for the first time."

Hermione closed her eyes and turned away. Bellatrix watched her back for several long seconds, and just as she was about to reach out and touch Hermione on the shoulder or… somewhere, the muggleborn spoke again.

"I can't give you what you want," Hermione said, and then she swallowed, "and the worst part is, after everything we did, whoever I do end up with…"

She trailed off and her shoulders slumped slightly, then the golden girl opened her eyes and wordlessly started rinsing and drying beakers. Bellatrix, eyes hot with tears that still had yet to fall, watched her for a moment and then pushed off from the door way to silently assist with the placement the silver, gold, and copper bars in a special glass container, and set the mercury to cycle through and pour over them every hour, which it would need to do for at least a day, probably several.

After they wordlessly cleaned up and returned to Hermione's house, she put her key in the front door lock and then stopped and looked over her shoulder at Bellatrix.

"It's already open," she whispered.

"Wand," Bellatrix whispered, and Hermione slipped the bit of vine wood from its holster beneath her sleeve.

Bella held the screen door as Hermione took a deep breath, then pushed into the foyer, wand first. The sound of pots clattering from the kitchen caused her to stop so short that Bellatrix bumped into her from behind.

"Hon, I think she's home," a male voice said.

Hermione quickly tucked her wand away just as a middle-aged man with thinning hair rounded the corner. It only took Bellatrix a second to connect him to the younger versions in photos scattered about the home: Hermione's father.

"Surprise," he said as he held his arms out wide.

Hermione moved forward and they embraced tightly.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked.

"Your birthday, silly," Hermione's father said, "only one more day of being a teenager."

"Hermione's birthday is this Sunday. How could I have forgotten?" Bellatrix thought.

Hermione's mum, wearing the chequered apron which normally hung on the wall, stepped into view from the kitchen.

"Happy birthday sweet pea," she said as they hugged tightly.

Hermione's father stared at her, and Bellatrix cleared her throat; Hermione jumped.

"Oh, mum, dad, this is Bella," Hermione said, "she… she was a transfer student this year, and she helped with the project, to create the cure to bring your memories back."

Hermione looked her in the eye with an unreadable emotion on her face.

"I couldn't have done it without her," she said.

Bella put a smile on her face and turned to face Hermione's parents.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Granger," she said as dipped into a low curtsey, the action drilled into her from before she could remember, "thank you allowing me to stay as a guest in your home."

Hermione coughed quietly.

"Erm, she had nowhere to stay, so I've been letting her use the guest room for the past few weeks, hope that's alright," Hermione said.

"Of course, of course," Mr. Granger said, "any friend of Hermione's. And now it'll be a party."

Hermione smiled nervously.

"Haha, yeah," she said.

"Thank you for helping, Bella," Hermione's mum said, "Why don't you two get washed up, and then we can have roast chicken."

A shower and a change of clothes later, the four of them sat around the kitchen table sharing the meal Hermione's mum prepared, and split a bottle of white four ways. Bellatrix kept quiet and tried to focus on her food as Hermione chatted with her parents, but she couldn't help herself from glancing up at Hermione from time to time. Mr. Granger cleared his throat to get her attention.

"It's good that you're here, Bella. I've been meaning to ask, what exactly is the nature of your relationship with our daughter?" Mr. Granger asked.

Bellatrix's eyes widened slightly and Hermione slammed her fork onto her plate.

"Are you serious? Dad!" Hermione said, but Bella noticed colour almost immediately rise to her cheeks.

"Well, it's only that I found this paper on the counter when we arrived-" her father said as he pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet.

Hermione snatched it out of his hand.

"You can't trust a thing they say," Hermione said, "bloody sensationalist rag."

She drew her wand and vanished it.

"That's handy," Mrs. Granger said, and Bellatrix giggled, because she now knew where Hermione had picked up the phrase, all the way down to the inflection and intonation. It seemed Mr. Granger had only been trying to embarrass Hermione, because he grinned and the conversation shifted again. Hermione smiled, and Bella observed as she talked to her parents and they exchanged stories about life in Australia and the possibility of returning to England. To someone else, it might appear everything was normal, but Bellatrix knew her too well.

"She's nervous," she thought, "why is she nervous? Because of what her father said?"

Almost immediately after dinner, Hermione yawned.

"I'm knackered, think I'm going to turn in," she said, "see you all tomorrow."

Not wanting to stay up with Hermione's parents on her own, Bellatrix also bid them goodnight. After changing and slipping into bed, she closed her eyes and tried to drift off to sleep, but unlike earlier weeks, this time she heard voices. She listened to the indistinct mumbling for a few minutes, then threw off her covers to find the source of the noise, which oddly enough did not come from the door. It took a moment or two of searching around until she knelt between the bed and the wall, by the vent which intermittently pumped warm or cool air into the room to keep the home a constant temperature. Currently it was switched off, and voices echoed up through the air ducts.

"-head back as soon as we can," Hermione's mum said.

"I don't feel any different from when we arrived. A bit jet lagged but-" her dad said.

Bella shifted position to lay on the thick carpet alongside the wall, to position her ear next to the vent.

"How would you know though? She made us forget about her for almost two years, and move half a world away, and we had no idea. If she were manipulating us right now, how would we know?" her mum asked.

"We have to have faith, she's still our daughter," her father said.

The sound of a tap running muffled the voices, but Bella could still make them out, barely.

"I can't live like this," Hermione's mum said.

The sound of a fire igniting came through the vents, followed by the heater starting, which obscured all sound from downstairs. From her experience, Bella knew the heater would not stay on forever, and she waited in the dark as warm air blew onto her face, waited for the heater to switch off so she might listen in on more of their conversation. Her eyes dried out as she lay on the floor in the dark, and just as she considered moving back to the bed, the heat switched off.

"They're scared of me."

It was Hermione's voice, quiet, but still audible. Bella pressed her ear against the grate. She quickly realised she only heard half the conversation.

"She's talking to someone on the phone in her room," she thought, "must be Potter… who else would she call about this?"

"All I wanted for the past year and a half is to get them back, and now that they're here, they don't trust me," Hermione whispered, "I don't know what to do."

A sniffle came through the vents, and Bella's heart tore.

"She heard the same conversation, and she's crying,"she thought. The urge to run to Hermione's room and comfort her almost had her standing up, but she couldn't, not without letting her know she eavesdropped on her call.

"They said they want to go back to Sydney… after everything, turns out I've ruined it anyway," she said with a choking cough, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't be calling this late…"

There was a long pause.

"Okay.. okay. That's a good point. I'll talk to you tomorrow," Hermione said.

---

The sound of the front door closing startled Bellatrix from slumber. She glanced at the clock at the bedside table; it wasn't even 7am. With the sound of pots and pans and chopping and boiling echoing through the door, she rolled out of bed, washed up and pulled on muggle clothing again. In the hallway, she stopped as voices drifted up from the ground floor. She tiptoed the last few steps to the top of the staircase and placed one hand on the wall to lean forward and listen in.

"-think she's really going shopping?" Hermione's mum asked.

"Yes, but I suspect there's more to it," her father replied.

There was a pause.

"Can they influence each other too?" her mum asked, "I mean, the way she did to us?"

"I'm not sure; I imagine so," her father replied, "something is definitely off, the Hermione I remember would have never lied to us about where she was headed."

"How do you even know your memories are real?" her mother asked, "perhaps this is the way she's always been."

"It's possible; there's no way to know for sure," he said.

Bellatrix had heard enough.

"They don't trust her, just like she doesn't trust me, even though I only want what's best for her, for both of us," she thought.

If what Hermione was going through was anything like what she felt daily, it must be gut wrenching to bear. She stormed down the steps and both Granger parents stared at her, open-mouthed, from where they sat at the table.

"You… if you had any idea what she's been through," Bellatrix said as she glared, fists at her sides, "she sent you away because you're a couple of muggles who haven't the slightest clue, and she was going off to fight a war. The Dark Lord has no mercy, no pity. He would have found you and destroyed you, utterly, and it would have been her fault. She suffered so much-"

"By my hand," she thought. Tears spilled down her cheeks at the thought of carving the bloody slur into the soft flesh of Hermione's arm, but she roughly swiped them away and ploughed on.

"From his lieutenant. It's still there, on her arm, and will be for the rest of her life. You can see it for yourself. Still, she didn't break, all to save you, and people like you," she said, "and she did it, she won, and then she spent the next year trying to get you back. I was there with her and it was all she wanted, all she could think about, to bring you back. She sacrificed everything: money, fame, a social life. And now, you… you ungrateful muggles, don't trust you own daughter? What is wrong with you?"

"Now see here," Mr. Granger said.

"No. You listen," Bellatrix said as she pointed a finger, "when she gets back, you're going to apologise for making her cry last night, and then you're going to tell her you love her, and that you've always loved her, and you're sorry for doubting her, and that she's the most important thing in the entire world to you."

"If only she understood that's how I feel about her!"

"You can't force something like that," Hermione's mum said.

"Watch me," Bellatrix said, "you have no idea what I'm capable of."

Mr. Granger raised an eyebrow at that, but Mrs. Granger's mouth had formed a small 'o' and her face blanched white as a sheet. The door behind Bella opened.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked.

Bellatrix turned around.

"Friendly chat," she replied, "what did you buy?"

"Milk," Hermione said as she held up a plastic bag, "are you okay?"

"Your mum will take that," Mr. Granger said as he took the carton from Hermione and passed it to his wife, "family meeting. Bella, if you will excuse us for a moment."

He motioned to the front door, and Bella took the cue to step outside. The door closed behind her as she sat in stocking feet on the step leading to the porch. The sun had already burned away the dew from where it landed on the manicured lawn, but traces of moisture still remained in the shade. Bella cleared her throat; she was hoarse for some reason. She watched as an ant approached her foot and debated whether to crush it or let it pass. The front door opened violently.

"What did you do?" Hermione asked.

"What do you mean?" Bellatrix asked as she stood up and took in Hermione's near-panicked expression.

"They're terrified, said you were screaming at them," Hermione said, "they're trying to change their flight back to Sydney to today."

"I wasn't screaming, more like… educating. I told them... I don't know, I told them the truth," Bellatrix replied, "you're a hero, and one of the greatest witches I know, and you sacrificed so much for them."

Hermione's expression softened at that, but only slightly.

"But you told them about my arm? That's private, I told you not to tell anyone," Hermione said.

"What? They're your parents," Bellatrix replied, "I mean… you didn't tell them?"

"N-No. When exactly would I have told them?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know," Bellatrix replied.

"That's the problem, isn't it. You don't think these things through," Hermione said, "what if I never wanted to tell them?"

"Why wouldn't you tell them?" Bellatrix asked, "they're your parents. Family first."

"Family… Is that some kind of pureblood thing?" Hermione asked.

Bella paused.

"I suppose it is… but it's also common sense!" she said as she gestured with one hand.

"No it isn't. They could have very happily lived the rest of their lives never knowing a madwoman carved up my arm," she said.

The fact it was Bellatrix herself who had done the deed hung heavy in the ensuing silence.

"I'm not crazy," Bellatrix said quietly.

"I didn't say you were," Hermione said. Muffled voices drifted through the door and Hermione glanced over her shoulder.

"You have to go… at least until I can patch this up," she said, "umm…"

She entered the house and Bella saw the light of her patronus through the window. Bellatrix moved to enter as well, and she only caught a half-second glimpse of the blue-white otter as it shot off through the ceiling.

"I'll bring you to Grimmauld," Hermione said, "Harry should be there shortly."

She ran her hands through her frizzy hair.

"She's upset," Bellatrix thought.

"Hermione… it's okay," Bella said quietly, "family first."

Hermione stared at her for a second, then shook her head and sighed. She bent over to pick up Bella's boots and handed them to her.

"Hang on," she said, and Bellatrix gripped her forearm with both hands. A pop and they appeared just outside #12 Grimmauld Place, and another pop and she was gone again, leaving Bellatrix on Harry Potter's doorstep, boots still in hand. She sat down on the cool stoop and stuffed her feet into them, stomped once each to ensure they were on properly, then stood up and looked around. Muggles, completely oblivious to her behind the wards and notice-me-nots, walked the street, on their way here or there on a Saturday morning. Bellatrix crossed her arms and tapped one foot as she waited for Potter to show up.

"Wait a minute… I don't have to wait for anyone," she thought, "screw this."

She stepped off the stoop, turned right onto the street, and started randomly wandering through London. Out here, dodging cyclists and keeping her distance from dogs on leashes, she blended in with the masses of muggles headed here or there. Eventually, she came to an area she thought she recognised, and after a few moments, she realised it was near the ice cream parlour she'd visited with Hermione. With only one wrong turn, she managed to backtrack her way to the Leaky Cauldron, and tapped her way into Diagon. The brick wall folded away to reveal the crooked streets and a few wizards and witches out for morning errands.

"Can't stick around here too long, hmm… where should I go…" she thought as she tapped her foot and looked around.

It came to her, and she headed for the public floo.

"Malfoy Manor," she said, as she tossed the powder and stuck her head into the fire.

She looked into a bare, stone room, tinted green from the flames.

"Hello, anybody home?" she asked, "HellooOOOOO?"

She kept repeating herself, and then she started vocalising her inner monologue, until she spotted a witch in robes pass in front of the floo. She leaned over, and suddenly Bellatrix was confronted with her sister's face, somewhat wider about the jaw and sprinkled with a few fine wrinkles, but undeniably Narcissa.

"Cissy, it's Bella, let me through," she said.

"Bellatrix? What are you…?" Narcissa asked.

"I'll explain everything, but right now my arse is hanging out of a fireplace in Diagon Alley, hurry up," Bella said.

Narcissa drew her wand and tapped the mantle a few times, and Bellatrix felt the floo connection complete fully, squeezing her through an infinitely tiny tube, until she appeared next to her sister in a roar of green flames.

"Hi," Bellatrix said.

"Bella… Merlin, it's true, you look barely a day over seventeen," Cissy asked as she took in the sight of her, "What are you doing here? Are you in some kind of trouble? …And why are you dressed like that?"

"I'm dressed like this because I was just in muggle London," Bellatrix replied as she brushed herself off, then she cocked her head to one side, "and no, I'm not in trouble. Not yet, anyway."

"If you've done anything illegal… I'm under house arrest as it is-" Cissy said.

"I know, I know," Bella said as she waved her off and noted the emptiness of the room for the first time, "where did all the furniture go?"

Cissy closed her eyes and sighed.

"It's good to see you. Come with me, I'll explain as best I can," she said.

Her older younger sister led her through a barren hallway and into the main dining room. The massive table remained, and platters of preserved dishes covered half its surface, but the paintings which once adorned the walls were gone, all except the portraits.

"The Ministry levied reparations on us," Cissy said as she sat at the table and poured two glasses of wine, "Draco, my son, was forced to sell much of our remaining assets, though he now runs a business which has begun to turn a profit, so we are no longer in imminent danger of financial ruin."

Bellatrix nodded and took a sip; it tasted expensive.

"And you're here alone?" she asked.

"Draco visits from time to time, other than that, yes, alone for the past fifteen months," Narcissa said, "I'm going to start talking to the portraits soon, it's maddening."

She took a large sip from her glass.

"Is it true you don't remember anything?" Cissy asked.

Bella nodded.

"Everything from the middle of my final term at Hogwarts until last May, thirty years, is completely gone," she said.

"Last May…" Cissy said as she leaned back in her seat with a faraway expression, "was it May 2nd?"

Bella's time trapped in the sub-vault came back to her, and a chill went down her spine.

"Could have been, why?" she asked.

"That was the day you died," Cissy replied as she looked her in the eye again, "I saw it with my own eyes."

Bellatrix shuddered again; it wasn't something she wanted to think about, but before she could change the subject, Cissy leaned forward and spoke again.

"They say you formed a relationship with the Granger girl," she said.

Bella's heart ached.

"Yes, it's complicated," she said, "but-"

"A mudblood?" Cissy asked, her features twisted in distaste.

Bella put her hands up.

"Cissy, this may come as a surprise to you, and there's no other way to put it, but all that pureblood superiority talk is pure bollocks," she said.

Narcissa blinked and sat back in shock.

"You're not my sister," she said.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Yes I am. When I was at school this past year, I trained a muggleborn to duel for only a few months, and he placed better than anyone else in his year, including the purebloods," she said, "Plus the Dark Lord was a half-blood, as were Dumbledore and Grindelwald and Potter. They're the most powerful wizards of the past century, and none of them were pure; it's all complete nonsense."

"The Dark Lord? Impossible," Narcissa said.

"I heard it in his own words. I spoke to his shade, the remnant of his soul, from beyond the Veil," Bella said, "compelled to tell the truth, he admitted his father was a bloody muggle, not even a muggleborn."

Narcissa closed her eyes and shook her head; admittedly, it was a lot to take in.

"Beyond the Veil? How?" Cissy asked.

Bellatrix smirked.

"Because I'm Bellatrix bloody Black, that's how," she said, but she didn't want to get side-tracked. She needed to know what happened to her family, and with the very tense greeting she would likely receive from Andromeda, and her parents and aunts and uncles all dead, Cissy was the only one who could fill in the blanks.

"Enough, we can talk about it more, later," Bellatrix said, "I've been trying to figure out a way to contact you for months. I need to know everything that happened after I graduated."

"That's thirty years," Narcissa said.

"Right… right. I'll narrow it down... I need to know, what happened to our family?" she asked, "when did Andy leave, and what happened next?"

Narcissa looked at her blankly for a moment, then produced a small cigarette, though it looked manually rolled, lit it with the tip of her wand, and took a deep inhale.

"I was still in school at the time," Cissy said, "Andy started dating the mudblood in her final year, but they hid it well, I had no idea, no one did."

She took a drag.

"Well, Father found out, and Andy ran away with that mudblood," Cissy said, "Aunt Walburga blasted her off the tapestry, and Father wanted to murder Andy's husband, and would have, if he could find them. But they hid amongst the muggles."

Narcissa shook her head and then looked at Bellatrix.

"As you can imagine, Father was furious," she said, "I was underage at the time, but you were closest to her; as her older sister, he blamed you for not keeping a closer eye on her."

A shiver ran down her neck and Bellatrix shuddered.

"What did he do?" she asked.

"I'm not certain. You kept me shielded from most of it, but I know it wasn't pleasant," she said, "that was when you became more… well, not like you are now."

"Mad?" Bella asked.

"Unstable," Narcissa replied, "and closer to the Dark Lord. With Andy turned blood traitor, we both did. Everyone did, except Sirius. Later on, Uncle Orion tossed him out on his arse and Auntie W blasted him off the tapestry too."

She took another drag and inhaled deeply before continuing.

"Who could have known what would happen. Less than twelve months after Andy left, Father died, and then we were at war later that same year," Cissy said, "That was where it all went sideways, I imagine. Uncle Orion and Regulus died in the first war, Mother and Aunt Walburga a few years later. Cousin Sirius was thrown in Azkaban. He escaped, but he died a few years ago… actually they blamed his death on you. Even worse, the blood traitor left everything to Harry Potter, who is technically the head of house Black now, but in reality, we two are all that's left… three, if we count Andy."

Narcissa took another drag and held the smoke in, while Bella digested the story and recalled the slashed throat of her father's shade. She was about to ask about their mother, but man's voice echoed from somewhere else in the Manor. She startled, but it wasn't Father's voice.

"Mother?"

"In heeere Draco," Bellatrix called in a sing-song voice.

Narcissa shook her head, and simply took another hit. A moment later, Draco Malfoy, with his platinum blonde hair, crossed the threshold into the dining room and stopped when he caught sight of her. Bellatrix gave him a small wave.

"What are you doing here?" Draco asked.

"Catching up with my sister, very nice to meet you properly, by the way," Bellatrix said.

"What do you want?" he asked as he made no move to approach the table.

Bella pointed at Narcissa.

"To… catch up with my sister," she said, "if that's alright with you, Lord Malfoy."

She gave him a cheeky grin, and Draco took a deep breath.

"No, I meant… what do you want?" he asked.

"Hermione to return my love. Rebuild the House of Black. The Ministry off my back. A world where I can walk where I want, when I want, without being attacked," she thought.

The grin faded and she put on a demure smile instead, but stayed silent.

Draco closed his eyes and shook his head slightly.

"I don't have time for this," he said, "no offense, but you can't stay here; you're too close to Granger…. Friends, friends with benefits, whatever the fuck it is, I want as little to do as possible with her or the other two."

He glanced at Cissy when he said that.

"He's definitely trying to send her a message," Bella thought, "I wonder what's going on…"

"But we've only just begun," Narcissa said as she motioned to Bellatrix.

"…. Riiight. Okay. I suppose if you're in here talking discreetly there shouldn't be an issue," Draco said, "I'll take care of packing today so you can catch up or… whatever it is."

He paused, then nodded to her.

"Aunt Bella," said, then vanished back the way he came.

"What was all that about?" Bella asked.

"He is concerned your presence will interfere with business," Cissy replied, "tell me, how did you survive? Dozens of people saw the duel, and I identified your body."

Bellatrix took a deep breath and started to relay her story. Cissy kept smoking, and as haze filled the room, Bella felt somewhat lightheaded and relaxed, and the words tumbled out of her mouth. She started with how she awoke in the sub-vault, leveraged Kreacher to get her started, how she originally wanted to destroy Potter, Weasley, and Hermione, but how things changed over winter, from assuming Hermione must be pure or half-blood, to the Dark Lord's betrayal at the winter solstice. She was vague on how she communicated with the Dark Lord, but when she mentioned a ritual to restore him, Narcissa nearly jumped out of her seat.

"He could return?" she asked.

"He… it was very involved, and I really don't think anyone else could pull it off, honestly," Bella replied.

"But it is possible," Narcissa asked.

"I… I suppose there is a very, very, very small possibility," Bellatrix replied as she closed one eye and held her thumb and forefinger up, nearly touching, "I mean… assuming the ritual even works."

Her younger sister stared at her with an expression of such dread, her lower lip actually trembled. Bella felt obligated to help allay her fear and she waved her hand dismissively.

"If that happens, we'll just send Potter to defeat him again," Bellatrix said.

"This is not a joking matter," Narcissa said.

"Calm down Cissy, I'm telling you, what's required… it's bloody impossible," she said.

"Although the Resurrection Stone has gone missing, that's at least somewhat disconcerting," she thought.

Narcissa let it rest, and then they moved on to the subject of Hermione. Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps it was sitting unglamoured and chatting with her sister, but Bellatrix sensed the weight of her horrible experiences in Azkaban lessen somewhat, felt more like her old self.

"We spent Christmas together, and I helped her with her project," Bellatrix said, "you know we cured obliviation? It works, just waiting for approval from the Council of Master Healers."

Narcissa looked like she was about to ask about that, but Bellatrix couldn't stop talking for some reason.

"She's… I don't know how to describe it, she's brilliant, and you know me, I don't say that about anyone," she said, "and she's powerful, she helped defeat the Dark Lord, and we cured obliviation together, oh wait, I said that already. And she's…"

"You're gushing, shut up," she thought, and she clapped her mouth shut with a click of her teeth.

"Oh Merlin," Cissy said, a look of disbelief on her face, "you really do care for her."

Bellatrix paused and studied her sister's face.

"Is that so bad?" she asked.

"First Andy, and now you?" Narcissa said, almost to herself, "the world's gone mad. Do you even remember what you did to the girl during the second war?"

Bella shook her head.

"No, but she told me. And I saw the results," she replied as she patted her forearm through her sleeve. Cissy fell silent as she stared at the unblemished skin where Bellatrix's Dark Mark would have been. Bellatrix paused, and then drained her glass. Although Cissy was her younger sister, the woman sat across from her was twenty-five years her senior. More importantly, she was family, among the only family she had left.

"If you can't tell her, who can you tell?" she thought.

Ever since Azkaban, something had gone wrong with her… she lacked confidence and conviction, almost like she was half a person. The wine and the conversation helped, but she still felt incomplete. Bellatrix opened her mouth to speak, to tell her sister there was something wrong with her, that she'd been broken into pieces and needed help putting herself back together. Draco appeared in the doorway again.

"Right, it's getting late," he said.

Bellatrix looked at him, and tried to will him to go away. He cleared his throat.

"No offense," he added.

"Well, I'm not leaving until your mother and I have finished talking," she said.

Draco was about to reply, when a realisation struck Bellatrix like a thunderbolt, and she stood up, knocking her chair back in the process.

"Actually, I will leave, on one condition," she said, "you need to take me shopping. In Diagon Alley."

"You want me to take you shopping, in Diagon, now," Draco repeated.

"Yes, I need to make a purchase, otherwise I'm not leaving," she said as she folded her arms, "Oh, and you have to advance me the gold. I'll pay you back."

Draco closed his eyes took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

"Fine, but nothing too expensive. Do you want to change into robes first?" he asked as he gestured at her attire.

Bellatrix looked herself over; she was feeling uncharacteristically nonchalant.

"Nah," she said.

"Whatever," he said and he turned to lead the way to the front door. Narcissa joined to walk them to the floo, but as they crossed in front of the double doors leading to the grand ballroom, Bella decided to make a slight detour. She grabbed Cissy's hand and all but dragged her into the cavernous, high-ceilinged room. Unlike most of the manor, the tapestries still hung from the walls here, and the hardwood floor remained intact. Bellatrix gasped.

"Cissy, remember the balls? If you can't go out to meet people, you could invite them in to see you," she said as she started to lead her sister in a waltz, "echo!"

She smiled as her voice bounced around the ballroom and back to her.

"We're bloody pariahs, nobody would come," Draco said from the doorway.

"I'm sure somebody would come, and somebody is better than nobody," Bellatrix said, "and even if nobody came, how would you know unless you try?"

"I'll convince Hermione to come," she thought, "and she'll bring her friends. Everybody wins."

"We're losing daylight, do you want to go shopping or not?" Draco asked.

Bellatrix abruptly left Narcissa on the dance floor and followed Draco to the floo. He stepped through first and Bellatrix took a handful of powder.

"You'll visit again, won't you?" Cissy asked.

"Of course," Bella replied, "I need to sort a few things out first. Diagon Alley."

She appeared as a few leaves skittered by in the late afternoon breeze, a harbinger of colder weather to come. Draco already waited, cane in hand.

"Let's get a move on, it'll be dark soon," he said, "what did you want to purchase?"

"I'm not sure," she replied, and Draco looked at her with an expression somewhere on the border between impatience and disbelief, but as he was about to retort, it came to her, "wait, I know… Slug and Jiggers."

"Just as well, I need to make a purchase there too," Draco said.

They walked the nearly deserted street and the silence between them stretched, broken only by the intermittent clack of Draco's cane against the ground.

"He's Cissy's son, you should say something," she thought, "he also knew Bellatrix Lestrange though."

"You asked to come work for me, just after graduation," he said.

"I was trying to find a way to make contact with my sister, without exposing myself," Bellatrix replied.

Draco nodded.

"What will you do now?" he asked.

They walked in silence for another minute as Bella thought about his question.

"Kill Brandon Clark," she thought.

"I'm not sure. Try to stay out of Azkaban," she said, "why?"

"Mother could use the company," he said, "I'm busy trying to restore our house and keeping the Ministry from confiscating the rest of it, and she's all alone."

The wind gusted and she brushed her hair out of her face.

"We'll see," Bellatrix replied.

They arrived at the apothecary and the lingering scent of dozens of ingredients swept over her. Bellatrix knew exactly what she was looking for and made a beeline for the shelf along the adjacent wall. Hermione never did manage to pick up the cutting knives she left on the day of the dungbomb. She turned the package over and the magical overhead lights near the ceiling reflected off the silver blades.

"That's what you're buying?" Draco asked. Bella nodded.

"Good, let's get this over with," he said.

In his free hand he carried a jar of distilled snail slime and he set it on the checkout counter.

"Could I have this gift wrapped please?" Bella asked as she placed the knives next to the snail slime.

The receptionist, a middle-aged witch, nodded and took the package to a back counter. Draco sent her a questioning glance.

"Is it for Granger?" he asked.

She nodded. Several emotions passed over his features in rapid succession.

"Do I even want to know?" he asked.

"Probably not," Bellatrix replied. She grinned at him.

Draco ignored her, opened his pouch, and started counting galleons, then paused.

"Do you carry live crickets?" he asked.

"Aisle three," the shop assistant replied.

"Right," he said as he turned to Bellatrix, "do you mind?"

He motioned to the indicated aisle and continued to count. Bellatrix rolled her eyes but considering he was purchasing Hermione's birthday gift for her, she made her way to aisle three without a fuss. A shifty looking older man with grey hair meandered down the same aisle, and she spotted him staring at her. They made eye contact for a split second, and he stepped closer.

"It's true," he breathed, "Ras told me you were alive, but I didn't believe him, not until now."

She recognised the voice, but couldn't quite place it.

"You're as beautiful as the day of our betrothal," he said.

"Rod," she whispered, her obviously glamoured former husband, Death Eater, his voice raspier than she recalled. Paranoia gripped her; was anyone else with him? Bellatrix glanced around the aisle; they were alone, at least it looked like they were alone.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered as she faced the rows of jars of live insects.

"Waiting for you, of course. I've come every day since it was in the news you were seen here," he said, "how did you do it?"

"Do what?" she asked as she hunted for the crickets, but her eyes merely moved across the jars without reading any of the labels.

"Get yourself a pardon, walk around unglamoured. This isn't a glamour, is it. You really are young again. Was it unicorn blood?" he asked.

"I honestly have no idea," she replied.

"You can drop the charade, it's me," he said.

Bellatrix came to a decision.

"Rod, the Dark Lord was lying to us all, he was a half-blood," she said.

He looked puzzled and disappointed at the same time.

"What've they done to you?" he asked, "come with me, we'll see Rookwood, he'll fix you up."

He grabbed her forearm; she yanked it out of his grip before he could apparate.

"Aunt Bella?" Draco asked, and she spotted him at the end of the aisle. Rodolphus' glamoured face grimaced in annoyance for a second before he smoothly turned around.

"Everything alright?" Draco asked. Bellatrix noticed he had his wand and cane in hand.

"Yes, everything's fine," she said as she placed a hand on the small of Rod's back, "this gentleman was just helping me find the crickets. Ah, here they are."

She pulled the jar from the shelf and walked past Rodolphus to follow Draco back to the counter, where she picked up the cheerily wrapped package waiting for her. She held it in both hands as they made their way to the door, with Rodolphus following several feet behind.

"Do you think we could head to the Ministry? I'm sure the Aurors are looking for me by now," she said.

"Why, what did you do?" Draco asked.

"Nothing really. Well, I was supposed to meet-"

"Oculus carirae!" a woman's voice shouted from across the street.

"Another Death Eater?!" Bellatrix thought.

Time seemed to slow down for the pureblood, and she moved the package to intercept the conjunctivitis curse. It impacted the wooden container with a bang, and Bellatrix was already moving, legs driving her forward as she flung it with both hands at her attacker, then sprinting across the narrow road. It was a witch in her early 40s, with wavy brown hair. She ducked as the wooden box hit her in the shoulder, and before she could bring her wand around again, Bellatrix barrelled straight into her, tackling them both to the ground.

"Fucking bitch!" the woman shrieked.

"I don't even know who you are!" Bellatrix yelled as she wrestled with the other witch.

"Definitely not a Death Eater," Bella thought as she quickly gained the upper hand.

Spellfire zipped out of the tip of the wand as Bellatrix tried to prise her fingers off it. Faintly, as if from far away, she heard the clattering of debris and the screaming of bystanders, but she almost had the wand… two quick elbows to the woman's face and her grip relaxed enough for Bellatrix to win control of the bit of wood. She rolled to her feet and cackled triumphantly as she held the wand over her head.

"I have a wand again!" she thought. She felt invincible, "Now, to make this idiot woman pay."

Just as she brought the wand to bear on her would-be attacker, someone wrapped her up from behind, pinning both arms to her sides.

"Don't be foolish," Draco said. Magical ropes wrapped around both of them and they toppled to the ground, bound together, and Bellatrix's cheek smushed roughly into the pavement.

"Ow," she said.

"Aurors, drop the wand!" a voice shouted.

"She… she stole my wand!" the witch shouted, pointing at Bellatrix and Draco, "she was going to curse me! They're Death Eaters, both of them!"

"It's only because you tried to blind me," Bellatrix said as gravel stuck to her cheek. From her position, she couldn't even see who was talking.

"Right, Draco Malfoy, Bellatrix Black, you're both coming with me," the Auror said, "Ma'am, you'll have to come to the Ministry as well, to make a statement. What's your name?"

"Miss Madison, sir," she said.

He plucked the wand from Bellatrix's hand, and she felt herself pulled to her feet, awkwardly, as she was still bound to Draco. Strong hands pushed the two of them against the wall, and Bella caught a glimpse of the Auror, a huge man, powerfully built, easily twice as wide as Draco.

"This is complete bullshit, you know that, right?" Draco said, "that witch started the fight out of nowhere, and all I did was restrain my aunt."

Another wizard apparated in with a pop, and Bella had never been so glad to see Harry Potter in his blue robes. He stared at her for a good two seconds, then turned to the other Auror and nodded.

"Wilson. What happened?" he asked.

Wilson saluted and handed Madison's wand to him.

"Seems like a minor scuffle, sir," Wilson said, "Miss Madison said Bellatrix stole her wand and was going to curse her."

"Potter. It's bullshit," Draco said. He turned to Miss Madison, "I saw the whole thing. You're going to take back what you said, or I'll pay for a memory review and then I'll see you in court, take you for everything you have, whoever you are."

Harry regarded Draco for a moment, and Bellatrix sensed there was much more going on just beneath the surface. Harry turned to Miss Madison.

"This is your wand?" he asked.

Madison nodded.

"Should I cast a prior incantato charm to see which spells this wand last cast?" Harry asked.

"Oh, umm… that won't be necessary," she said.

She cleared her throat as she took her wand back.

"I see," Harry said, "would you like to change your statement?"

"Yes.. umm.. it must have been an accident, misfired spell," she said quietly, "just one big misunderstanding."

The large Auror waved his wand and the ropes binding Draco and Bellatrix vanished.

"You said she tried to blind you? Assuming that's true, do you want to press charges?" Wilson asked.

Bella looked at the woman. The excitement of the fight had fled, and she realised she had this witch at her mercy. The old her would have crushed her like a bug out of general principle, but Bella felt off balance, numb, almost as if nothing in the world mattered.

"No," she said.

Wilson looked at Harry, who nodded to him.

"Right, clear off everyone, show's over," Wilson said as he started to motion to the crowd to move back.

Miss Madison glared at Bellatrix as she slunk away with the rest of the crowd.

"Have you been with him this whole time?" Harry asked.

Bellatrix was about to answer when she remembered with a gasp.

"Lestrange was here," she said.

He looked at her in confusion.

"Rodolphus Lestrange, he was glamoured," she said as Draco looked at her in alarm, "he was looking for me."

She pointed at Slug and Jiggers, but of course Rod was nowhere to be found.

"Appare vestigium," Harry said, and golden flecks coated every surface, revealing footsteps entering and exiting.

"That was bloody Rodolphus Lestrange?" Draco asked.

"That's us, and that's him," Bellatrix said as she ignored Draco in order to point out the footprints to Harry.

"He stayed to watch the fight and then apparated," Harry said as the footprints vanished, "damn."

"Least we know he's in England now," Wilson said as he looked over his shoulder.

"Yeah, but if he's smart, he won't be using that disguise again," he said, "did he say what he wanted?"

"Me. He was looking for me," Bellatrix replied, "I told him the truth about the Dark Lord, but I don't think he believed me."

Harry nodded and looked around with a grimace, then turned to Bellatrix again.

"He's long gone by now," Harry said, "I've been looking all over for you; come on."

He held out his arm for side-along.

"Oh, you're taking her back? Good, if it's all the same, I'll be going now," Draco said.

"Great, see you never," Harry said without taking his eyes off Bellatrix.

"Likewise," Draco said, and he apparated with a pop.

"Let's go," Harry said.

"Wait," Bellatrix said, and she jogged over to pick up the discarded parcel and dust it off. A burnt hole marred the bottom where the curse had singed it, but it appeared otherwise undamaged. Harry looked at her questioningly.

"Hermione's birthday is tomorrow," she said.

He winced.

"Thanks for the reminder," he said, then he held out his arm again. She grabbed on and steeled herself for side-along.

"See you back at the Ministry," Harry said to Wilson, and then they were inside Grimmauld Place. Bellatrix swallowed to keep the nibbles she'd eaten with Cissy down.

"I told you to lay low for a reason; you can't just go wandering off," Harry said, "you're going to get arrested again. What happened at Hermione's this morning, anyway?"

Bellatrix thumbed the burnt hole in the wrapping paper then held the package out to Harry.

"Think you could fix this up?" she asked.

Harry paused.

"Did you even hear a word I said?" he asked.

"Yes of course, but it's not my fault Hermione's parents are ungrateful," she replied as she put one hand on her hip.

Harry pulled his glasses off to massage the bridge of his nose.

"Look, just stay here for the time being and don't break anything. I'll be back in a few hours and we can talk, sort things out with Hermione," Harry said, "there's food in the kitchen if you're hungry."

"Don't worry about me, I can amuse myself," Bellatrix said.

"Yeah, that's what worries me," Harry muttered, "Reparo."

The small hole fixed itself up and she gave Harry a thumbs up. He looked at her for a second.

"Kreacher," Harry said, and the elf appeared with a pop, "make sure Bellatrix stays in the house until I return, and you can prepare food for her, but you're not to follow any of her instructions."

"Hey!" Bellatrix said.

"I can't trust you to stay here, and today's been enough of a mess as it is," Harry said.

Kreacher twisted his hands in agitation, but the magic binding him to Harry as head of house Black compelled him.

"Kreacher hears and obeys," he said with a low bow.

"Perfect," Harry said, and he apparated away with a pop before Bellatrix could protest further.

"Kreacher is sorry, young Miss," the elf said.

"It's fine," Bellatrix said; she was fairly certain she could get around the restrictions if she really wanted to. In the meantime, she decided to explore her uncle's old house. She still wasn't quite sure how she felt about the new furnishings. A plush dragon wind-up toy peeked out from beneath the couch. She bent over, picked it up, and turned it over; it seemed oddly out of place, and she tossed it onto the coffee table. She climbed steps, those hadn't changed, to the second story and poked around the bedrooms a little bit. In Harry's room, she plucked a few strands of hair from his pillow.

"Just in case," she thought as she stowed them in a vial and tucked it into her pouch.

Then she made her way up to the attic. Warm and stuffy air, owing to it being located at the top of the building, greeted her as she ascended the ladder into the storage space.

"Lumos," she said with a snap of her fingers, and a small ball of light appeared in her palm.

"Yes!" she thought with a smirk, and tossed it into the air where it hovered, casting its pale glow over the room. She rooted around a little bit, but most everything of interest had been moved out.

"Hmm… I wonder," she thought, and she dragged a pair of trunks over and stacked them against the wall, then clambered on top of them. From there, she was able to reach the support beams running across the room, near the ceiling. She felt along the top of the beam until her hand hit a metal object. She pulled it down and blew the dust off - her favourite silver hairpin comb. She smirked. Andy seemed to find it no matter where she hid it in their old manor, so she'd moved it here, where her sister would never think to look. The floo whooshed from downstairs.

"That was fast," she thought.

"Harry, this is mine," she said as she walked down to the first story, "Hope you don't mind-"

But the words died on her mouth as she cleared the first story ceiling. Standing there with the plush dragon in one hand was not Harry, but Andromeda, wearing muggle jeans and a green cardigan. Her estranged younger sister stared in shock for a second, then went for her wand. Bellatrix sprinted up the stairs as a blasting curse blew the banister to splinters.

"Kreacher! Help!" Bellatrix yelled as she slammed the master bedroom door shut and locked it.

The aged house elf appeared with a pop and pulled his ears.

"Kreacher cannot, Kreacher is forbidden from obeying young Miss' instructions!" he wailed.

Bellatrix growled, but she heard footsteps up the stairs and dove out of the way as the door blew off its hinges. She crawled to Kreacher and picked the house elf to hold as a shield. The house elf squirmed but she gripped him tightly and forced her mind to think.

"Andy, can we talk about this?" she asked as she backed up alongside the bed.

Her sister crossed into the room, wand first, hair dancing with the fury of her wrath.

"You killed my daughter!" Andromeda shouted.

"Are you sure about that?" Bellatrix asked.

Andromeda responded with a blood boiling curse aimed low, and only Bellatrix's enhanced reflexes allowed her to lift her leg at the last instant. The solution came to her.

"I absolutely forbid you from telling Harry that Andromeda is trying to kill me and to get his Chosen Arse back here," she whispered to the elf. Kreacher instantly vanished from her hands, leaving her completely exposed.

"Crap," she thought as she dove behind the bed. The window shattered and Bellatrix coiled her legs beneath her to leap through it, but Andromeda caught her with a levitation charm and yanked her back inside to tumble to the ground.

"Excorio," she said with a snap and flick of her wand, and the blue bolt struck Bellatrix in the hand she put up to block.

Bellatrix stared as the flesh of her palm tore open to reveal the muscle and ligaments beneath. Then the pain started, excruciating fire as the flaying curse spread to her fingers and wrist. Bellatrix grunted as she tried to will the curse to stop, but of course it had no effect, and then the pain was too much and she shrieked in agony. The skin of her hand literally peeled itself away and dropped to the ground in bloody spatters. She barely noticed Andy starting to cast another spell, but a small part of her mind registered the danger and twisted and leaped to the side, and the spell only glanced off her boot. As she huddled in a corner and cradled her flaying hand, nowhere else to run, Andromeda advanced, wand raised high.

Expelliarmus!

Andy's wand flew from her grip, straight into Harry Potter's outstretched hand as he crossed the threshold into the room; the witch whirled around.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing?" Harry asked, and for the first time, Bellatrix witnessed a hint of what must have been Potter's terrible power; his emerald eyes practically sparked with anger. Bellatrix spotted Kreacher peeking around from behind Harry's leg. The flaying curse had spent itself, and while her hand felt like it was on fire, the pain was slightly more manageable now and she slowly rose to her feet.

"She killed Nymphadora," Andy said.

"Andy, that wasn't me," Bellatrix said.

"Fuck you," Andromeda said as she rounded on Bellatrix again, "deranged bitch."

Bellatrix growled again.

"Can I say something?" Harry asked.

"NO!" Andromeda and Bellatrix said at the same time.

"I don't remember anything past seventh year, but Cissy told me everything, how Father took it all out on me after you left," Bellatrix said, "Did you even think for one second how what you did would affect our family?"

Andromeda's expression changed slightly, and Bellatrix saw an opening.

"Of course not, you always did put yourself first. Cissy said after you ran off was when Bellatrix Lestrange became a fanatic. She might have been the one to kill your daughter, but you certainly helped make her what she was," Bella said, but she could tell she wasn't getting through.

"None of that matters," Andromeda said.

Potter took a step forward.

"Maybe, maybe not, but you can't come to my home and start blowing up furniture and flaying the skin off a guest," Harry said as he gestured to Bella, "the past is the past, and if we're ever going to have a better future, we have to learn to solve our problems without cursing each other."

Andromeda took a deep breath and for a second it looked like she was going to ignore him, then she relented.

"Fine, but I never want to see her here, and she doesn't come to the cottage, ever," she said, and held out her hand, palm open.

"What?" Bellatrix thought.

Harry placed her wand back in her hand, and Andy swept out of the room, with one last glare back at Bellatrix. Harry waited in silence until the whoosh of the floo signalled Andromeda's departure.

"That looks painful," he said.

"Do you think?" Bellatrix replied as a few more drops of blood splashed onto the floorboards.

"I'll take you to St. Mungo's," he said. He picked up Hermione's gift, now severely dented in one corner, and tucked it under his arm. Bellatrix grabbed on for side-along, and Harry disillusioned her first, then they appeared in the waiting room at the wizard hospital. Bella's arm and hand throbbed with every heartbeat and even a light touch of breeze felt like fiendfyre, but she kept her mouth shut and concentrated on keeping up with Harry. Just as before, he led her to an unoccupied ward.

"Wait here," he said.

A moment later, he returned with healer Yarr, and the disillusionment sprayed off of her.

"Oh, back again?" she said as she waved her wand in what Bella recognised as the pattern of a diagnostic spell, "this is a flaying curse. Who did this to you?"

"Nobody," Bella replied.

"Family first," she thought.

"Hmm," Yarr said, "this will heal with Wiggenweld, but it will take some time. I'll be back with the potion."

She closed the door behind her.

"Potter… how did you do that?" she asked.

He gave her a confused look.

"Nobody can make Andy back down once she gets going," she said.

He cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses.

"Maybe she's not the same as you remember," he said, "I'll… tell Hermione you're here."

He left her alone in the hospital, again. She glanced to the side table, at the damaged package, the wrapping paper torn and the wood case beneath dented and splintered. Yarr returned and Bellatrix drank down the healing potion, along with one to dull the pain, then lay back on the bed and waited. Due to the nature of the curse, it would take longer than a normal wound to heal.

"Not the first time you've been hit with one of these," she thought. She couldn't recall exactly when she'd suffered a flaying curse before, and that bothered her. She must have fallen asleep because she heard someone call her name quietly, and when she opened her eyes, she saw Hermione standing by her bed. A smile spread across her face.

"Hi," Hermione said.

"Hi," Bella replied.

"Harry said Andromeda attacked you," Hermione said.

"Yeah," Bellatrix replied and she turned her hand over, where a sizable patch of skin had yet to grow back, "hurts like you wouldn't believe, but it'll get better."

Hermione looked unsettled for a second.

"Can you not go a single day without getting into a fight?" she asked.

Bellatrix was unsure of which specific fight she was talking about.

"She started it," she said with a pout.

"And she almost ended it," Hermione said, as she gestured to Bella's neck, "if that had hit you here…"

Bellatrix shrugged one shoulder and looked away; she didn't want to think about what that would feel like.

"How are your parents?" Bellatrix asked.

"I think I sorted it out," Hermione said, "I talked them through everything again, gave them some more detail."

"Everything?" Bella asked.

"Yeah. It took a while. Well… I didn't tell them about you, err, she… that Bellatrix Lestrange was a Death Eater during the war," Hermione said, "that would overcomplicate things."

"Right," Bellatrix said with a nod, "we wouldn't want our lives to be complicated."

Hermione smirked at that and Bella's heart warmed.

"But… that's good, isn't it? That they know the truth, at least most of it?" Bellatrix asked.

Hermione nodded.

"They're still leaving, but I don't think they're scared of me anymore, at least not as much, if that's what you're asking," Hermione said, though she remained glassy eyed.

Bellatrix nodded, then glanced at the damaged package on the night table.

"Anyway, the reason I was in Diagon in the first place was that," she said, "Happy birthday. It's a bit of a mess…"

Hermione's shoulders dropped slightly, and Bellatrix hoped it was because she was touched.

"Thank you," she said as she picked up the package, "you didn't have to…"

"And… I wanted to apologise," Bellatrix said, "about your parents. I was only trying to help. Go on, open it."

"I know… still, you could have talked to me first," Hermione said. She tore the wrapping paper and gave a small smile as she saw the knives.

"Of course," she said, "it's perfect."

She set the package on the night table again and folded her hands in front of her, then opened her mouth to speak, and paused.

"Healer Yarr says it'll be another day before your hand is fully healed," she said, "I'll come back soon."

"You're heading home?" Bellatrix asked.

Hermione nodded.

"If it's all the same, I think I'll come with you now," Bella said as she sat up, "save you a trip and at least I can rest in a comfortable bed, not this piece of junk."

She thumped the thin mattress, and Hermione frowned.

"But.. your hand," she said.

"It's fine. It stings a little bit but the wiggenweld is working," she said as she waved it about and flexed her fingers a bit. In fact, it hurt a lot more than she let on, but she wanted to go home with Hermione.

"Alright, if you're sure," Hermione said.

Bellatrix nodded and slid herself onto her feet. Hermione tapped her wand on her head and she felt the broken egg sensation of disillusionment. The golden girl picked up the package, vanished the wrappers, then held an elbow out, which Bella gladly slipped her arm through. Her heart thumped in her chest at the simple gesture, all the way through St. Mungo's until they reached the apparition point, and then Bella was dragged through space to land in Hermione's foyer. Her arm throbbed in pain again but she ignored it.

"I wanted to talk a little bit," Hermione said. She walked to the kitchen and placed the silver knives not in her pouch, but on the counter, propped up against the wall where they could be seen.

"That has to count for something, doesn't it?" Bella thought.

Hermione turned around to face her, leaned back against the counter, and folded her hands in front of her.

"I know how you feel, about us," Hermione said, "and…"

She took a deep breath.

"I'm not going to lie and say I feel nothing, but…" she said, "the issue is, I don't know why I feel the way I do, whether it's just some kind of trauma response or, something else. So… I suppose what I'm saying is… I need time to sort myself out."

"At least she doesn't despise you," Bella thought.

"And then?" Bellatrix asked.

"I don't know. I'm not saying never, just… not now," she said.

Bellatrix's heart lifted with hope, but then it was just as quickly dashed.

"She's seen you violated, repeatedly, at your weakest and most helpless; in her eyes, you'll be forever tainted," she thought, "she feels pity for you, nothing else."

Hermione continued to speak.

"In the future, someday… or maybe never, who knows what might happen, but not now," Hermione said, "don't you understand? It's too new, it's too raw, and I feel like I don't know which way is up. I don't want to start something unless I'm sure."

Bellatrix stared at Hermione's face, her beautiful face, which currently wore an expression of pain, pity, and regret. Her chest ached as if a wave of her love wanted to burst out and envelop the muggleborn.

"But maybe someday," Bellatrix whispered.

"I don't know," Hermione said, "and… also… once the new memory cure is tested, Professor Winthrop is bringing me with him to Europe. I asked about you, but he said… how did he put it? 'There's too much baggage.'"

Bella's eyebrows came together in concern.

"You're okay traveling with him to Europe, just the two of you?" Bellatrix asked, "I thought you didn't trust him."

"I suppose I've changed my mind; he's the Minister for Magic, after all, and an opportunity like this doesn't come along every day," Hermione replied, "you needn't worry, Macmillan is coming as well, and so is Percy Weasley. And honestly speaking, I think some time apart might do both of us well."

"Oh," Bellatrix said. It certainly didn't feel like a good thing.

"You can stay here of course, or perhaps visit Harry," Hermione said, "I'd stay away from Draco Malfoy if I were you."

She paused as Bellatrix frowned into the counter.

"What's the matter with you?" Bellatrix thought, "stop acting like a loser!"

"…I also have something for you," Hermione said. She reached into her pouch and paused with her arm sunk halfway in.

"Despite everything that's happened… when I heard you'd been injured… well, if it had been worse, I realised I would have regretted not doing this earlier… plus it belongs to you anyway, and you need to be able to defend yourself," Hermione said, then paused and closed her eyes, "please, please, before you do anything rash, think of how I'd react."

Hermione pulled her hand from the pouch, and grasped in her slender fingers was a wand Bellatrix recognised immediately.

"You… you had it this whole time?" she asked.

Hermione nodded.

"We took it from Malfoy Manor, right after…" she said as she brushed her forearm. She shook off the memory quickly and held the wand out to Bella, who hesitated only for a second, then picked it up. It thrummed in her hand as her fingers found their usual spots, and she smiled.

"Bella," Hermione whispered, almost lovingly, and Bellatrix's eyes snapped to those wonderful chocolate brown orbs, "promise you won't make me regret giving this back to you."

Bellatrix held her wand to her chest.

"I promise," she said, and she meant it.

---

The following day, in the cellar of the cottage, they brewed up a memory cure potion, and when it was time to add the black filament, they returned to the alchemy lab.

"Moment of truth," Hermione said. She pulled the filter out of the glass apparatus, and used tweezers to hold up a small lump of orange coloured metal that shone in the light. Two more smaller lumps remained in the filter.

"Oh, most excellent," the portrait of Flamel said, "I had hoped for more, but still quite the feat."

"Is it enough?" Bellatrix asked.

"We only need a gram, according to the Minister," Hermione said as she placed the larger piece of orichalcum on a small cloth to dry, then replaced the filter.

All through the process of adding the black filament to the orichalcum infused potion under the red light of her wand, of meeting Winthrop, and traveling to St. Mungo's to test it on a long-term obliviation sufferer, Bellatrix felt the looming deadline of the Minister's trip to Europe. She felt dead inside, even when the elderly witch's eyes went from confusion to recognition at the sight of her daughter. Mother and daughter reunited and embraced for the first time since her unfortunate accident over five years past.

"Incredible," Winthrop said while Hermione beamed as a single photographer, no doubt hand-picked by the Minister, snapped photos. She turned to Bella, and her smile seemed to light up the pureblood's whole universe; she couldn't help but reciprocate.

"No more Hag's eye," Hermione said.

"This is an excellent development," Winthrop said, "congratulations to both of you. Now we have to strike a deal with the goblins to supply it, but you let me worry about that."

Winthrop stayed at the hospital with the reporter while Hermione and Bellatrix returned to the house.

---

The following morning, Hermione stood in the kitchen wearing a new set of maroon dress robes that, at least in Bella's opinion, looked positively divine.

"Wish me luck. I'll see you soon," Hermione said.

Bellatrix couldn't tell if she was sad or trying to hide her excitement at traveling with the Minister, and Hermione hesitated for a second, then she stepped forward and embraced Bellatrix lightly.

"Stay out of trouble," she said, and then she had her wand in hand and apparated with a pop.

"I love you," Bella whispered, but she was alone in the quiet of Hermione's house. She sat at the kitchen table and her thoughts whirled with the events of the past few weeks, how she might have done things differently, how she might have convinced Hermione.

"Plus Clark is still nowhere to be found, the slippery bastard. If I wasn't broken…" she thought, "if I had all of her memories… all of my memories, thirty years of them, maybe I could find the bloody rapist. Maybe I wouldn't feel so incomplete, or I'd at least know of a way to fix myself…"

One thing was certain, she hated this hollow, dirty feeling inside, and she wanted nothing more than to patch up whatever Azkaban and Clark had broken.

"She could do it," Bellatrix thought. She looked down at the wand in her holster. With flick of her wrist and a deliberate turn, she apparated back to Winthrop's cottage.

"All the ingredients are still there in the cellar, and the orichalcum in the filter," she thought. She checked it to find a little bit more had accumulated over the past day, and she tipped the filter onto a cloth, which she used to dry the small lumps of shiny orange metal.

With the precious alchemical catalyst held in one hand, she descended to the basement and took a quick look around to find it was still stocked with all the ingredients she needed to brew up an obliviation cure. She doused the lights and wordlessly lit her wand with a red glow, and peeked inside the metal case to find at least a dozen sizable clumps of black filament mould, far more than she needed to undo thirty years of memory loss.

"Do it, Bella, you'll never be the witch you could be without all your memories," she thought.

With the formula she'd spent nearly half a year developing imprinted on her mind, she set up a dragon's mouth, dropped a salamander egg in to ignite the fire, then affixed a cauldron to start brewing.

---

A/N: Getting complicated now as storylines are coming together. If there are any loose threads or side plots you'd like to see more of, please let me know in the comments.