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

51. Chapter 51

Harry Potter belongs to JKR

Trigger Warnings Listed at the End of the Chapter

Chapter 51

Bellatrix stared at the two small chunks of reddish orange metal drying on the white towel. Brewing the potion had consumed almost all of the remaining black filament and most of the orichalcum. Figuring it belonged to her and Hermione anyway, she tucked what remained of the precious alchemical metal into one of her storage jars and set it on the potions rack in her pouch. The completed obliviation cure, brewed with enough black filament to reverse at least fifty years of memory loss, sat corked in a bottle on the counter.

"Not here," she thought, and she picked up the vial, turned, and apparated to Hermione's living room.

In the kitchen, with that the moment of truth upon her, she hesitated.

"They're my memories, but what if they change me?" she thought as she swirled the mixture in the squat bottle, "then again, that's the whole point, right?"

Bellatrix alternated between uncorking the bottle and chugging it down, and setting it on the rack in her pouch, when a pop of apparition interrupted her thoughts. She went for her wand.

"Bellatrix?"

It was Potter's voice.

"Kitchen," she said as she stowed her wand and tucked the potion back into her pouch.

He rounded the corner, still wearing blue Auror robes.

"Hi," he said, and she leaned back and rested her elbows on the counter behind her. Harry cleared his throat, "err, Hermione's going to be gone for a few days so… if you need anything, let me know. Also, if you don't feel like cooking, you can always stop by Grimmauld and Kreacher will fix something up for you."

"I'm not completely incapable, you know," she said as she glanced at the stove.

He blinked.

"Usually, when someone offers to help, it's polite to say 'thank you'," Harry said.

"Oh, where are my manners," Bellatrix said as she stood up straight and cleared her throat.

"Allow me to express my deepest gratitude, Lord Potter, for your gracious hospitality," she said as she dipped into an obscenely low curtsey and held it.

"Merlin, that's somehow worse," Harry muttered, "please stay out of trouble."

Bellatrix smirked as she stood up.

"I'll stay away from trouble if trouble stays away from me," she said.

Harry muttered something under his breath, returned to the living room, and vanished again with a soft pop. She pursed her lips.

"Hmm, what am I going to do?" she thought, "first things first, food."

After a Kreacher-prepared baked chicken pie, Bella returned to Hermione's house and immediately froze; something was different. A light breeze stirred the air, and a loud meow issued from somewhere.

"What the bloody hell?" she thought. Wand first, she emerged from the living room into the kitchen and spotted an extra-large orange cat on the granite countertop, tail twitching. The tail stopped as she crossed onto the kitchen tiles. The cat yawned and hopped down to the floor, then nudged a blue pet bowl from where it was partially hidden beneath a shelf. It clattered and rolled to settle near Bella's feet.

"You're Hermione's cat?" Bellatrix asked. She looked to the den; the door leading to the back patio sat slightly ajar. The cat nudged the bowl again so it bumped into Bellatrix's boot.

"Okay, you're hungry, uhm," she said, then pulled open the fridge.

A loud meow sounded from behind her and she turned around to see the cat had opened a cabinet near the oven. It knocked a pair of cans from the cabinet onto the floor. Bellatrix leaned over to pick them up.

"Must be cat food," she thought as she spied a photo of an overly enthusiastic feline on the side of the can. She turned it this way and that, "how the bloody hell do I open it?"

Still studying the aluminium can, she absently crossed into the den and closed the exterior door as the cat meowed loudly. Bella returned to the kitchen to see the tawny feline had leapt up to the counter and now strutted, tail in the air, to lay down above a drawer. It stared at her with a bored expression, tail twitching.

"Cheeky little furball, aren't you…" Bella said.

She pulled open the drawer, and all manner of kitchen implements greeted her. Eventually, after much trial and error, she found the right tool and figured out how use it to cut away the lid of the cans, then dumped the contents into the bowl with a pair of wet splats. The cat immediately dropped down to the floor and started eating. Bellatrix found a white bowl beneath the shelf and filled it with water from the tap and set that one down as well. As the large cat gorged itself, Bella wandered around the house, the potion in her pouch beckoning her.

"What the bloody hell am I supposed to do?" she thought as she flopped unceremoniously onto the couch. The black remote for the stereo lay on the glass table, and she picked it up.

"Hermione used this dozens of times, can't be too difficult," she thought. She managed to turn the sound system on and crooning music piped in through the speakers.

Why, she, had to go, I don't know, she wouldn't say…

"Merlin," Bella thought as a twinge ran through her chest, "can't listen to this."

She flicked off the stereo again with a press of a button, then walked back to the living room.

"Staying in the house isn't doing me any good… I wonder what Cissy is up to…" she thought.

She tried her luck that the wards would still admit her, and apparated directly to Malfoy Manor. The crack of apparition echoed off stone walls as Bellatrix appeared directly in front of a large moving cabinet, which promptly slammed into her shoulder and knocked her off balance.

"What in Merlin's name?" she thought.

She'd apparated directly into a scene of pure chaos. Furniture levitated here and there, and a massive rolled-up carpet inched its way down the centre of the room like a gigantic worm. In the centre of it all, Cissy stood arguing with what looked like a maintenance wizard, given his blue uniform and nametag. Astonished whispers rapidly grew to a cry of alarm.

"It's Bellatrix Lestrange!"

Furniture dropped to the ground and a half-dozen wands trained on her. In an instant, Bella's wand tip rose as she assumed a duelling stance, and her heartrate spiked in anticipation of a fight. A grin spread across her face as a brief standoff ensued, the calm before the storm.

"Lower your wands, you imbeciles, unless you're looking for an early grave," Narcissa said as she stalked between the maintenance wizards and Bellatrix, "Get back to work, I'm not paying you to stand around and chat with my sister."

The wands gave way and wizards grumbled as they restarted the furniture restarted moving about, though not without a wary glance sent Bella's way. She twirled her wand and grinned at them. Cissy stopped in front of her.

"Too bad, I could have used a work out," Bellatrix said.

"Not the time, Bella," Narcissa said, "what are you doing here? Wait, never mind, I could use your help."

"What?" Bellatrix said as she stopped twirling her wand, but Cissy had grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her towards the grand ballroom.

"The Ministry of Magic has, as only they can, determined that this year's fall ball will be held here, in just a few weeks' time," Narcissa said.

"What?" Bellatrix repeated as she followed in her older younger sister's wake.

"Pay attention!" Narcissa said, "traditional fall masquerade ball, we're planning it."

"We?" Bellatrix said, "that doesn't sound like fun."

Narcissa stopped and rounded on her.

"It was your idea in the first place, so you have to help," she said.

"My idea? I don't know what you're talking about," Bellatrix said as she ducked beneath a levitating potted flower.

"No? Remember the balls, weren't they lovely?" Narcissa said as she mimicked Bella's sing-song voice from a few days earlier, "and then Draco got it into his head to convince Minister Winthrop to hold it here."

"So? Weren't you complaining you were lonely?" Bellatrix asked.

"What else do you have planned for today?" Cissy asked.

"I…" Bella said, but she knew her expression had already given her away, "fuck."

Narcissa turned around and continued walking.

"You take the ballroom decorations and the food lists for the caterers, while I handle the new furniture, music, wards, and entertainment," Narcissa said.

"What about your son, wasn't this his proposal?" Bellatrix asked as trotted to catch up as they entered the cavernous ballroom.

"Something's happened, he won't tell me what, but he appears unable or unwilling to engage in anything more than one-word responses," Narcissa said.

"She's worried," Bella thought, "she's worried and she's distracting herself with preparations for the ball."

"Why can't I do entertainment?" Bellatrix asked, "I'll make sure it's a night to remember."

"Absolutely not," Narcissa said, "oh and by the way, it's going to be a bloody menagerie in here; the Ministry, in its infinite wisdom, is inviting muggleborns and Beings, so be mindful of the food choices."

Bellatrix pouted.

"Not very traditional, is it," she muttered.

Bellatrix wasn't sure what she wanted to do until Hermione returned, but she was pretty sure this wasn't it. Then she stood up straight.

"I get to plan a ball! Surely, I'll be invited… I'm preparing the bloody thing and I'm Cissy's sister… and then I can bring someone; I'll bring Hermione," she thought, "it'll be just like the spring dance, and we'll both be masked up, no one will know who we are."

She smiled at the thought.

"I don't like that look, what are you planning?" Cissy asked.

"Traditional fall ball, with muggleborns and Beings, apparently," she replied.

The memory potion forgotten for the time being, the days passed quickly as Bellatrix helped Narcissa prepare the festivities. She did not see Draco, not once, though she did spot some familiar looking former Hogwarts students on the grounds.

"Draco's employees," Narcissa said by way of explanation.

The obliviation cure stayed in her pouch. With all her spare minutes taken up planning an event in half the usual time, plus feeding the large orange cat which had taken up residence in the house, she barely paid it a second thought…

Until she returned home to find Hermione resting comfortably at the kitchen table with said cat curled up in her lap. Her heart nearly leapt into her throat at the mere sight of the bushy haired muggleborn, currently dressed in a simple long-sleeved shirt and jeans.

"There you are, where were you?" Hermione asked.

"Visiting Cissy," Bellatrix replied.

"Cissy… Draco's mum?" Hermione replied, then she lowered her voice to a mutter, "so weird."

"How was Paris?" Bellatrix asked as she approached.

"It was… interesting," Hermione said as she held Bellatrix's gaze for several long seconds. The moment stretched.

"How did you find Crookshanks?" Hermione asked as she continued to pet the cat.

"Crookshanks? That's his name?" Bellatrix replied, "I didn't, he just sort of, showed up the day you left."

The cat jumped down from Hermione's legs and sauntered over to lap some water from his bowl. Hermione stood to lean back against the counter, and folded her hands in front of her.

"I wanted to talk," she said.

"Uh oh," Bellatrix thought. She leaned a shoulder against the wall and crossed both arms and ankles. Hermione took a deep, unsteady breath.

"When I was in Paris… I missed you. And, I want to try… dating," she said.

"Did I hear that correctly?" Bellatrix thought.

"Sort of a.. reset. Maybe we can start from zero, try again," Hermione continued.

Bellatrix stayed silent and watched as Hermione squirmed.

"Well..? Say something," Hermione said.

"What, like courting? I should invite you for dinner?" Bellatrix asked.

"That would be… nice, I suppose," Hermione replied.

"Sure, you can meet what's left of my family at Malfoy Manor for tea in the drawing room, wouldn't that be lovely…" Bellatrix thought.

"I don't have a place to invite you to… or money to pay for dinner," Bellatrix said, "they confiscated my vault, remember?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well, it doesn't have to be dinner, we can figure something out," Hermione said, "but… we have to be able to trust one other, and that means that going forward, we have to be honest… both of us. Okay?"

"What? What does… ohh… she's opening herself up to me again. She doesn't know if she could bear it if I betrayed her a second time," Bellatrix thought, and trepidation slithered up from her gut to lodge somewhere in her throat, "why do I feel like this? Shouldn't I feel happy?"

She tried to swallow.

"Okay," she said, practically grunting the word out.

"What if I get it wrong somehow?" she thought.

"You… you aren't hiding something right now, are you?" Hermione asked.

Bellatrix shook her head.

"But… what about your friends?" the pureblood asked.

"That's a conversation for later," Hermione said with a wave of her hand. Apparently, she'd already considered that, "We can keep it a secret at first and see how things go, and then cross that bridge when we come to it."

But dating meant being intimate, after what Bellatrix had been subjected to in Azkaban. She felt Clark's abhorrent taint upon her even now, and fell back on occlumency for a moment to clear her thoughts. She looked up to see Hermione's chocolate brown eyes… concerned, worried about her.

"But you know, I'm not… not the same as I was…" Bellatrix said, and then she fell silent; she couldn't even get the words out.

The muggleborn bit her lip in thought.

"That's something that happened to you, it's not who you are," Hermione said, "I still think you should see a mind healer, but… one step at a time, I suppose. So… how about a date?"

Bella looked up at Hermione, at the way her cheeks had flushed pink, the way she held her breath.

"How could I say no?" she replied. Hermione's beaming smile was reward enough.

Later that week, both of them under glamour, Bellatrix met Hermione for coffee at a café near the Ministry entrance.

"Here, I'll show you… Can you believe this… tripe?" Hermione said as she fished out a copy of the Daily Prophet, threw it onto the small table between them, and simmered at it in disgust.

"Hermione Granger appointed as junior undersecretary in Minister Winthrop's Administration"

"Congratulations?" Bellatrix said, "looks like good news."

"Look what they said here," Hermione replied as she pointed to a passage a few paragraphs down.

It's almost unheard of for a fresh graduate to be appointed to such an important role, and one must question the exact nature of the relationship between the newly appointed Minister of Magic and the far younger Hermione Granger, perhaps even starting while they were both at Hogwarts, and whether there was an exchange of favours involved while they worked together on an independent study of Granger's…

"Oh," Bellatrix said, "that's almost outright slander."

"Libel," Hermione muttered.

"Winthrop is under attack here too, what does he say?" Bella asked.

"He says it's a distraction, and to ignore it, as there are 'more important things to worry about'," Hermione replied.

She put her chin in the palm of her hand and stared off into the street.

"I could curse the editor, or the author," Bellatrix said, "or feed them love potions and take a photo of them having a tryst, wouldn't that be fun?"

"You will do no such thing," Hermione said, but Bellatrix had coaxed a smile from her.

"I could," Bella said.

"No, don't…" Hermione said, "it'll only cause more problems."

"But it would be oh so hilarious," Bellatrix said.

Hermione laughed. She placed her hand on top of Bella's where it rested on the table, and it was like a sip of water after days of thirst… not nearly enough.

"This was good," Hermione said, "and it was good seeing you… err, meeting you. I need to get back to work though."

Bellatrix's smile faded and she nodded. Hermione paid for both of them and left while Bella stayed and sipped her coffee. It had been non-stop work for Hermione since she'd returned. The announcement of her new position had come almost immediately after her return, and ever since, she'd only been back to the house late at night to sleep, then off to work again first thing the next morning. Bellatrix sighed, drained her cup, found a public loo to apparate from, and appeared back in the house with a soft pop.

"Even if 'dating' works out, what then?" she thought, "at some point she's going to have to choose between her friends and me."

If she were someone else, she had no doubt the two of them could spend the rest of their lives together… but she wasn't someone else, she was Bellatrix Black, and she wasn't going to give up her identity for anyone, not even Hermione Granger. Her shoulders slumped and she moved to the den. She fiddled around with the stereo remote for a while and somehow it ended up playing the same song repeatedly… something about a bloke who wanted a girl but didn't measure up. Eventually she decided it wasn't horrible and lay back on the couch to ponder her existence.

"What the fuck are you doing," she thought, "everyone hates you. By all accounts, you shouldn't even be alive."

"That's not true," she thought, "Cissy doesn't hate you, and Hermione…"

"Would she be happier if you weren't in her life though?" she thought, "probably not, but what in Merlin's name is wrong with you that you're even considering that line of thought?"

She flicked off the stereo but ending refrain of the song haunted her: I don't belong here…

That evening, Hermione arrived home late, after Bella had already gone to bed. She half-awoke to the sound of quiet footsteps on the stairs, and then the pipes hissing as the shower ran. The sound of water splashing mingled with raindrops hitting the window; a storm had swept in. Then she was back in her cell as waves crashed far below, shivering on a metal cot while dementors swirled nearby, periodically feasting on every happy memory she had. Bellatrix snapped her eyes open and took a deep breath, smelled the fabric softener on the sheets, and lay her head back. A rumble of thunder rattled the windows, and her body shook without her permission. She tried to bleed the excess energy off by hugging her pillow, to no avail.

"This isn't you," she thought, "you never needed anyone else, you can get through this on your own. It's just a bloody thunderstorm, Bella!"

Another flash of lightning and crash of thunder had her squeezing her eyes with the pillow pressed tight against her ears. The chill of the cell came back to her, the terrible despair of the dementors, but the worst was the loneliness, day after day, with no hope, and no one to talk to except herself, for the rest of her life.

"But now it's different," she thought, "Hermione is just down the hall. You don't have to go through this by yourself."

She didn't want to be alone, but she didn't want to have to tell Hermione she didn't want to be alone. She tried occlumency to banish the flashbacks from prison for another few minutes as wind whistled and rain pelted the window, but her concentration inevitably faltered as she drifted towards sleep. Another crash of thunder and she found herself padding down the hall, comforter wrapped tight about her shoulders as she crept towards Hermione's room.

---

Hermione lay in bed and listened to the rain and the thunder. It had been quite some time since they'd had a proper thunderstorm, and ever since she was small, she enjoyed counting the seconds between the flash and the first rumble, to calculate out how far away it was, whether it was moving closer or farther away.

"Coffee went well," she thought, "perhaps we'll have dinner next time."

A little tingle and warmth grew in her stomach as she reminisced and played out scenarios in her head at how their newly reset relationship might progress.

"Assuming I can find the time," she thought.

Her appointment at the Ministry and her desire to prove to her detractors that she was capable of performing the task Winthrop had entrusted to her and Percy had led to several extremely long days, with no end in sight.

More carnal thoughts slipped through her mind, making sleep impossible. Right about when she considered slipping a hand beneath her knickers, a light knock had her eyes snapping to her door, even if she couldn't see it in the pitch darkness. A soft murmur and a click, and the formerly locked portal swung open. A flash of lighting illuminated Bellatrix for an instant, wrapped up in the comforter from her bedroom.

"Bella?" Hermione whispered, but there was no response, only the sound of the door clicking shut. Then she felt a weight press down on the bed, and Hermione reflexively scooted backwards to make room.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, but again there was no response. Bellatrix simply lay there, motionless.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked. No response.

"Is it the thunder?" she asked. No response.

She nudged closer to the silent form lying at the edge of her bed and tentatively slid a hand over her abdomen. A slight tremble reached her fingers, as if every one of Bella's muscles were tensed up, and Bellatrix let out a soft sigh as Hermione's palm warmed against the thick blanket.

"The wind and the waves never stop in Azkaban," Bellatrix whispered. It was probably the only explanation Hermione would receive, but she nodded her understanding.

Having her so close, in the dark, reminded her of their night in Scotland, before they'd learned the extent of the abuse at Azkaban. Now though, their positions were reversed, with Hermione's arm across Bella's stomach instead of vice-versa. She inched closer still, near enough to breathe in Bella's sawdust scent, and warmth spread down from her belly to between her legs.

Another flash of lightning, and Bella tightened up against her hand, shuddered with the thunder, then exhaled loudly.

Hermione's lip trembled at the unusual show of unfiltered vulnerability, and she couldn't stop herself as she shifted slightly and gently tucked Bella's hair behind her ear, then planted a soft kiss directly on the outer edge. A soft exhale from Bellatrix was her reward.

"What are you…, oh," Bella said, and Hermione felt her relax slightly to lean back against her. Hermione smiled as she nibbled and moved down towards Bella's earlobe, and gently pulled her closer, encouraging her to roll onto her back, which she did. Hermione found the corner of her mouth in the dark, and quickly adjusted to kiss her properly, softly, lightly sucking on her lower lip, and Bellatrix's hand came up to her shoulder, and then behind her head beneath her hair with light caresses. They broke apart momentarily, and Bellatrix pulled her down more forcefully to kiss her fiercely, but then… something was wrong. Hermione felt her grimacing beneath her lips, shuddering, teeth clenched.

"What-?" Hermione asked, but Bellatrix only responded with a sniffle and a stifled sob, and turned her head away.

"I feel…disgusting," Bella said, "I'm… I should go."

She rolled away, but Hermione caught her about the midsection with one hand, leaving her in limbo halfway between the bed and standing on the floor.

"She's ashamed," Hermione thought.

"Wait, it's okay. Stay for a while," she said, her voice coming out huskier than she'd intended. She was still incredibly turned on, but that wasn't what Bella needed right now.

"I don't need anyone's help," Bellatrix said quietly.

"Of course you don't…maybe I need you," Hermione whispered. Apparently, Bellatrix could live with that, and she didn't resist as Hermione drew her back to where she lay earlier, on her side, facing towards the door.

"Is this okay?" Hermione asked as she placed her hand back on top of the duvet, over her stomach, "is this… nice?"

Bellatrix didn't respond at first, merely nodded once. They lay like that for some time, and listened together to the rain and thunder. Bellatrix placed her hand atop Hermione's.

"It reminds me of before, in the tent," Bella said quietly, and she sighed deeply, a tentative, shuddering thing. Hermione's heart ached, and she yearned to try and recapture those moments.

"But you can't, too much has happened since then," she thought, "you can only go forward."

Eventually, Bellatrix relaxed. She even slid backwards a little bit to press closer to Hermione, and the muggleborn listened as the sound of her breathing evened out while the storm receded, and Bella eventually fell asleep. It wasn't much, but it was the most intimacy they'd shared since Scotland. With Bellatrix sound asleep, curled up against her, Hermione eventually let herself relax and drift off.

---

Bellatrix awoke to the sound of birds chirping and squinted at the morning sun against the blinds, Hermione's arm still draped over her. Shame washed over her.

"Stupid, acting so needy. Nobody wants a clingy loser," she thought, "what's wrong with you?"

She slipped out of bed and tiptoed back to her room to drop off the duvet and collect clothes for the day. Under the streaming water of a hot shower, the events of the previous night played out in her mind's eye as her hands moved by themselves to wash her hair and body. Kissing Hermione had been glorious… until certain sensations arose, sensations that reminded her of Brandon Clark.

"Fucking bastard," she thought.

She finished up and stepped out of the bathroom to find Hermione waiting for her.

"Morning," Hermione said, "are you feeling better?"

"I'm fine," Bella replied, "you?"

Hermione paused for a split second as if weighing whether to call out Bellatrix's obvious brushing over of her near panic attack the previous evening.

"I… need to get to work, it's another busy day," she said. Bella nodded and slipped past her on her way to her room to finish dressing.

"That means yet another late night," she thought, but there was nothing for it.

Later, she sat in the kitchen with the morning's Prophet in her hands, and nearly jumped out of her skin as she felt something brush past her ankles.

"Bloody menace," she thought as Crookshanks purred and made his way to his bowl.

"Bella? I'm heading out," Hermione said as she descended the steps. She looked stunning in her new deep blue dress robes, and Bellatrix felt threadbare by comparison.

She nodded and waved absently, and Hermione vanished with a loud pop. Bellatrix took the paper with her and apparated to Grimmauld.

"Potter?" she said as she glanced around. Then she smirked to herself.

"Good, he's already gone," she thought.

"Kreacher," she said, and the elf appeared with a pop, "I'm hungry."

He vanished to cook up breakfast for her, and a plate of scrambled eggs and sausage, complete with a glass of orange juice and toast on a separate plate, appeared on the dining room table.

"This is brilliant," she thought as she tucked in. A thunk from the front door drew her attention. She leaned back in her chair to peer around the wall, and spotted a package on the ground beneath the mail slot.

"Hmm," she thought as she let the chair settle back down and took another bite of sausage. Curiosity got the better of her and she wandered to the front door to pick up the large rectangular object wrapped in brown paper, addressed to H. Potter. She brought it back to the table and set it in the place across from her, then stared at it. It stared right back at her.

"Fuck it," she thought.

She produced her wand and used it to unwrap the paper without tearing it, and revealed a relatively thick folder. As she picked it up and opened to the first page, a scrap of parchment fluttered to the ground.

Potter, do with this what you will.

JD

"JD, JD," Bella thought, but nothing came to her.

She set the folder down on the table and sat to leaf through it. Photographs greeted her on the first page, still pictures from a muggle camera, of an older couple leaving their home. Her eyes widened as she read the hand-written caption.

William and Martha Clark

Her heart raced as she flipped through the dossier, everyone they had met, everywhere they had gone, every visitor to their home, with hand-written dates and notes below each photograph and in the margins of the pages.

Parents' memories likely modified

She came upon a slightly blurred photo of a young man wearing a baseball cap, with red ink circling his face, and another of the same location of an individual with his face circled, and a third one, this time of an old man, and another of an African, all of them wearing different clothes, but all of them on the same street, all of their faces circled in red ink.

A different person apparates away from this spot every Thursday afternoon, after speaking with the parents at Bingo…. Brandon Clark?

Bellatrix stood bolt upright as she stared at the address on the page, and the double underlined name.

"John Dawlish," she thought, "former Head Auror, he tracked him down!"

Uncertainty coiled in her gut. She could tell Potter; they could set a trap.

"But if Dawlish wanted the Aurors to set a trap, he could have sent this to the DMLE, why send it directly to Potter?" Bellatrix thought, "he could have taken Clark himself."

No good reason came to her, unless…

"Unless he meant for Potter to give this to me," she thought, "he wants me to deal with Clark, probably in a way that wouldn't be allowed by law."

She started walking, then realised she didn't know where she was going.

"Can you even face him down?" she thought. She shuddered at the memory of Clark's face.

"She survived fifteen years in Azkaban, defeated countless skilled wizards. She was the Dark Lord's second. She wouldn't have an issue," Bellatrix thought.

Slowly she reached into her pouch and withdrew the potent obliviation cure potion.

"Not here," she thought. She stowed the potion, picked up the dossier, and, breakfast forgotten, apparated back to Hermione's living room and climbed the steps to her room, and locked the door.

She swirled green-blue potion in its squat bottle, then sat down on the bed. A moment of indecision, and then she downed half of the butterfly wing and peanut butter tasting potion, plenty enough for the charm to work on restoring all her memories. She corked the bottle, set it on the night table, and waited a minute. Having performed the memory restoration charm over a hundred times, the motion was almost automatic as she pointed her wand at her temple.

"Vivica scopum," she said.

At first, nothing happened, then a striking pain engulfed her and she clutched her head with both hands.

"It's never hurt before, something's wrong!" she thought, but her vision tunnelled and darkness fell as her knees slammed onto the carpet.

"I've fallen off the bed," she thought, but her thoughts felt stretched, pulled in all directions. Images, sounds, smells, tastes, and sensations bombarded her mind and body. Memories flooded through her, but they were broken, different sounds from each ear, different images from each eye, and hundreds of points of pain and comfort and pleasure all at the same time. She might have been screaming, she had no idea, and time lost all meaning.

"I'm losing my mind," she thought, but the thread was instantly lost among all the others.

She spotted a muggle car rumbling by, then an electric light, a candelabra with too many candles, she walked into her brand-new home, she secretly masturbated into her sheets.

"What in Merlin's… I'm a boy?!" she thought.

More and more memories came, hundreds of them, thousands: the sound of breaking glass, laughter, cheering, shouting, crackling campfires, silent snowfall, the sound of starvation, the smell of holding a puppy for the first time, the taste of a sunset, the feel of burying a loved one, of swimming in an icy river, of rain on her face, wind in her hair.

"These aren't mine," she thought, "these aren't my memories!"

She felt love, hate, terror, contentment, longing, joy, disgust, humiliation, and satisfaction all at once. Hundreds of mothers and fathers, dozens of sons and daughters. Lost in the sea of memories, they crashed over her and she gasped for breath, started to drown. She didn't know which way was up; there was nothing to cling to, not even her own name.

"Who am I?" she thought, though that too was lost in the torrent.

"Lumos," she heard, and turned towards the sound.

She saw it, a walnut wand, her walnut wand, lighting up with her first deliberate spell when she was still a child.

"There! There I am!" she thought.

She chased the memory in slow motion, as if she were in a dream. It fluttered on an unseen breeze, dancing just out of reach, until with a desperate lunge, she grabbed hold and held it tight to her chest.

"This… this is a witch's memory," she thought, "the others, they're all muggle memories."

She knew she had to sort through them, or she'd be lost in her own mind forever, until she died of thirst or starvation or old age. One by one, little by little, she fell onto her occlumency training to cordon off the unfamiliar memories and keep hold of her own. Memory by agonising memory, she carefully reconstructed her own life, observing as if she were watching a film.

"The Aevum!" she thought as she came across the memory of where she'd discovered the artifact in her family's sub-vault.

She used her wand to vanish the wooden box containing it, and, far from being an empty frame, she faced her own youthful reflection in a mirror. She leaned forward and touched it with a single finger, and a tingle shot up her spine.

"Some kind of spell activated," Bellatrix thought. Past-Bellatrix looked at her finger, then at the mirror. She touched it again, this time with no effect except for a small smudge on the reflective surface. Then she shrugged and skipped her way back up the steps and out of the sub-vault. She was back at Hogwarts later that day.

Bella tucked the memory to one side as she continued to sort and compartmentalize. She found more of her own memories and bound them all together into a whirlpool of magical history: graduation, taking the Dark Mark, training with the Dark Lord, Andromeda's betrayal, suffering flaying curses from Father's wand for not being able to find her, eventually murdering her own father and instructing her house elf to take the blame, her wedding to Rod, the first war, missions, duelling, killing, torturing Frank and Alice Longbottom after the Dark Lord vanished, her capture and trial, the long years in Azkaban, freedom when the Dark Lord returned, recovery from her decade and a half long stay with the dementors, the mission to recover the Prophecy.

"Hermione!" she thought as she saw the little mudblood for the first time, "she was so young..."

She didn't linger long; who knew what was happening to her body while she was trapped in her mind.

She teased out more of her own memories, separated them out from the muggle memories they were jumbled and mixed with… knocking cousin Sirius through the Veil, Snape killing Dumbledore, finishing off Andromeda's husband after Greyback brought him to her.

"There she is again!" she thought as she encountered the memories from Malfoy Manor, where she'd carved the bloody slur into Hermione's arm.

"What the fuck Bella," she thought, but she had been scared, petrified, that she had failed the Dark Lord in his most important command to her, to keep the small golden cup hidden and safe.

Last was the Battle of Hogwarts, killing Andy's daughter, and the duel with Molly Prewett. Bellatrix mentally rolled her eyes at that.

"Lucky bitch," she thought. On review, missing a counter on a lethal curse was a combination of bad luck, fatigue, not having her own wand, and the frumpy housewife's natural protective instinct of her daughter.

"Perhaps a little too much confidence as well," she thought, "won't make that mistake again, first things first though… Wake up!"

Nothing happened, and she existed only in infinite darkness in all directions, with little boxes of memories all around.

"Come on Bella, you didn't go through hell and back, return to life, and fall in love just to die alone on the ground," she thought.

The muggle memories slowly faded, but she held on to her own, clutched them tight. The first thing that returned was touch; her cheek against the thick carpeting of Hermione's guest room. One by one, the rest of her senses returned.

"Fuck, I need to pee," she thought as her eyes opened to darkness, "shit, am I blind?"

She sat up and spotted a red light, glowing in the dark, the digital clock set next to the bed, and breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't blind, merely passed out for an entire day. Crawling at first, then stumbling, weaving, bladder about to burst, she held onto the wall for support and squinted against the glare as she flicked the loo light on and barely managed to get her pants down in time. She slammed her arse down on the seat and let out a soft moan.

"What in Merlin's name was that?" she thought. She'd never experienced anything like that in all the experimentation she'd done with the memory restoration charm.

"Was it a side effect of the orichalcum?" she thought, but that didn't make any sense.

She sifted through her own memories again.

"I don't feel any different. I don't feel half-mad either. Merlin, what the fuck was wrong with her?" she thought, and then immediately hit upon the easiest explanation, "it was all the Dark Lord… he twisted me."

She put her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands as pee continued to flow into the toilet bowl.

"Or is that rationalisation? Did you not make your choices every step of the way?" she thought, "you really did do all of it. Everything they accused you of, you did it, and more."

It would have been one thing if she was right, if purebloods were superior and therefore deserved to rule over all the others, but her experiences as Julia White had taught her otherwise. That and the Dark Lord's shade explicitly telling her he was a half-blood and intended to murder her. She closed her eyes again as she recalled just how close she had come to fulfilling his awful resurrection ritual.

"What the fuck are you doing? Get ahold of yourself! You're Bellatrix Black!" she thought, "you brought those memories back for a reason, now go take care of Clark."

Bladder finally empty, she returned to the bedroom and collected her wand and the dossier that had spilled onto the floor.

"I've got to get out of here before Hermione comes back," she thought. What to do about her would have to wait, for tomorrow was Thursday, and she had a date to plan.

---

"I need two doses of Polyjuice potion," she said from beneath the hood, "pepper up, and wiggenweld, too. And I need the Ministry to not know anything about it."

"I'm sorry Miss… whoever you are," the young Asian replied, "we're a respectable establishment and Polyjuice is restricted; all sales must be reported to the Ministry."

"I can trade," she said as she set one of the jars containing the orichalcum fragments on the counter.

"Wait, is that…?" the shopkeeper asked as he examined the little chunk of floating orangish red metal.

"It is," Bellatrix replied, "do we have a deal?"

He paused for a second.

"Come with me," he said as he scooped up the jar. He brought her to a hidden back room and filled a potion rack with four bottles.

"The Polyjuice needs the final ingredient," he said.

"I want those ward stones too," Bellatrix said as she pointed them out.

The vendor hesitated for a moment, then tossed the three dark stones into a pouch and handed it and the potions to Bella.

"Pleasure doing business," she said.

"What business, you were never here," he replied with a small smirk as he set the orichalcum on the shelf. She smirked in response, then disillusioned herself and found her way into muggle London, using a map to hike to the alley Dawlish had photographed. She paused to wait on the near deserted street.

"To set up the wards now, or not," she thought, "hmm. If he spots them, he might apparate immediately. Surprise is the way to go."

She stood next to a tree lining the path and waited as her heart thudded and her wand grew slick in her hand with sweat. A muggle vehicle occasionally drove down the street, and she spotted a few birds, but this little nook of London appeared rather empty.

"Perfect for apparition," she thought.

She spotted a dark-haired brown skinned man walking towards her, and held her breath as he passed in front of the alley. As soon as he turned, she leapt into action, firing wordless spells as rapidly as she could.

The first stunner took him square in the back, but he fell forward and the next two missed as she charged ahead, disillusionment spraying off of her.

"Shit, warded clothing!" she thought as a wand snapped into his hand and his skin contorted back into Clark with the ending of his glamour.

He rolled onto his back and she locked onto his eyes to get an idea of what he was doing next.

"Apparition, stop him!" she thought as his eyes widened at the sight of her. He'd barely begun his turn when she wordlessly smashed him into the brick wall of the alley and summoned his wand to her outstretched hand.

"Don't get overconfident now," she thought as she recalled her final duel with Prewett.

A few more waves of her wand and Brandon Clark was bound, gagged, and stunned into oblivion. She shuddered at the sight of his face, his slicked back hair, mussed from their brief duel. Having him completely at her mercy helped.

"Hmm, that was easier than I thought it would be," she thought, "Stop wasting time Bella, get out of here before something goes wrong!"

She looked around to make sure she was unobserved, then featherweighted the unconscious former Auror, picked him up, and turned on the spot. They appeared with a loud crack in the woods, specifically, the Forbidden Forest, outside of Hogwarts' wards. Leaves of orange and red and gold greeted her, along with the earthy smell of decomposing vegetation and rich soil.

"Lovely day for some vengeance," she thought as she breathed deep.

She looked around, spotted a small clearing, and dragged Clark's unconscious body over to it. Twiddle widdle fiddle came to mind, and she hummed absently as she set up the ward stones in a large triangle on the ground. Her wand went into her pouch, and prick of pain from Clark's wand, a few drops of blood smeared on each of the stones, and a thrum went through her as they activated. She aimed Clark's wand at him and hit him with a rennervate; his eyes snapped open and stared about wildly, and he tried to shout through the gag, to no avail.

"We're behind blood wards in the middle of the Forbidden Forest," Bellatrix said, "no one can hear you."

He glared at her, hatred and fear in equal measure in his eyes. Bellatrix extended her senses through them, just enough to know he desperately wanted to kill her. She smirked.

"Crucio," she said, almost casually, and his back arched off the ground, and infinite pain was hers to dole out again. A cackle bubbled up from deep inside her chest.

"Bella, stop!" she thought, and with great difficulty, she pulled her wand away to leave Clark twitching with aftershocks. Just a taste, and she wanted more, so much more.

"What I wouldn't give for a decent dungeon and a week or two, but unfortunately, we only have the day," Bellatrix said. Clark mumbled something against the gag, but Bella didn't really care what he had to say. She giggled, an excited grin plastered on her face.

"I just thought of something funny, do you want to know? It's the irony," she said as she leaned over so her face was right next to his, close enough to feel the heat off his skin, feel him tremble, close enough to whisper, "it was a law against abuse of prisoners that got me out of Azkaban… if you hadn't done what you did, I'd still be locked up. Isn't that hilarious?"

He only trembled, and she dug her nails into his jaw to turn his terrified eyes to hers.

"I said isn't that hilarious?" she shouted.

Eyes wide enough to expose the whites around his irises, he nodded quickly.

"Breaking my hip, dosing me with a love potion is funny?" she shouted, "Rape is funny?"

He shook his head, and Bellatrix heard a faint hissing sound from his pants; he'd pissed himself. She growled in anger and stood up to vanish his clothes, not an easy task without vanishing the ropes as well, but she managed.

"Scourgify," she said as she callously cleaned up the mess between his legs and he winced in pain as the scouring spell scraped across his skin.

Bellatrix observed the bound and naked Auror lying on the forest floor in front of her and tapped the stolen wand against her thigh, then glanced down at the offending organ, the one he had repeatedly violated her with. Along with his balls, it currently retracted so far as to be almost entirely hidden within his groin. Whether from fear, the recent scouring, or the chill autumn air, she wasn't sure, but it didn't much matter.

"I suppose I should be thanking you," she said, "but how to thank you properly?"

She glanced down to his cowering penis again and grinned, and Clark shook his head, begging through the gag. She cackled and ran a fingernail down his cheek.

"You really think I'm going to remove your balls?" she asked, "Well, I have to admit, the thought did cross my mind, but that's so boring and cliché, and Bellatrix Black is anything but boring."

She hit him with a warming charm.

"No numbness for you," she said with a smile, "I want you to feel every second of this."

She hit herself with a warming charm as well and stripped off her clothes, tucking everything into her pouch to keep them clean, until she too was stark naked in the autumn forest. Sunlight dappled her skin as she turned to face him, and his eyes flicked between her breasts and groin.

"Oh, you like this young, sexy body, hmm?" she asked as she palmed her own breast and squeezed.

Three sauntering steps and she knelt by his face. He flinched away as she bent to whisper in his ear again.

"I am sorry about your sister, but really she's better off… Greyback could have bit her instead," Bellatrix whispered as she pulled a leaf away from his cheek.

"Don't worry, you'll be reunited soon," she added.

She moved slightly to the side, closer to his cock, which had decided to lengthen slightly at the mere sight of her naked body. She ran a finger up from his retracted balls, across his lengthening shaft, and grinned when it twitched in response as she neared the tip, growing still longer at her touch. He was saying something against the gag, but she ignored him and did it again, and then a third time, watching as it grew larger and harder, the angle changing, the organ pulsing in time with his heartbeat. She looked into his desperate eyes.

"Oh.. did you not want that to happen? You want it to stay down?" she asked with a nod, then looked back at his throbbing cock, "you want it to hide from big bad scary Bella?"

"So pathetic," she said as she continued to massage his member with a single finger. She used her thumb and index finger to coax the protective skin further back to fully expose the sensitive head, then lightly traced her finger around it. Clark groaned and twisted, but bound as he was, he couldn't get away from her. She stared at the raging erection; Clark's throbbing cock now pointed directly at his face. She flicked it lightly and his whole body jumped, drawing a giggle from her.

"Aww, such a stupid thing, isn't it? It thinks it's about to have sex. Even though you know you're about to die, you can't keep it down, can you?" she asked with a pout.

She quirked her lips to one side, as if in thought.

"Should I make it think it's inside of me again?" she asked with a nod, her eyebrows raised questioningly, "Should I make it spray your worthless spunk all over you? There's some interesting rituals I could cast with that, shall we try them?"

Clark frantically shook his head and mumbled against the gag, but Bellatrix grinned as she wrapped her fingers around his warm cock and held them there, feeling his racing heartbeat. She licked her lips, then released him to stand up and tower over, straddling his supine form and giving him a perfect view of her arse and groin. Then she deliberately pointed her wand, untied his legs, and unleashed a bludgeoning curse at his ankle, shattering the joint with a sickening crunch. Clark screamed through the gag and twisted, but Bellatrix giggled as she felt a wave of tingles spread through her. The power she exerted pulsed from her stomach straight to her groin, and wetness spread as she trembled with anticipation. Another bludgeoning curse shattered his knee, and the third his pelvis, just like he had done to her. She stepped back and noticed his cock, rock hard just a few seconds ago, had softened with the agony she'd just inflicted.

"Like a deflated balloon," she said with a smirk, and she thwapped it with the tips of her fingers, knocking it aside.

Rich soil tickled her toes as she walked to her pouch and pulled out the Polyjuice and a jar with a few strands of black hair inside, while Clark groaned and tried in vain to roll onto his stomach. She dropped one of her own hairs into the first potion, and it fizzled with the final ingredient. In the second, she dropped the hair she'd saved in her jar.

"You know. At first, I thought about using your hair, but then I realised I have another one, a better one, that won't involve me sticking this stupid thing into my body again," she said as she again tapped his nearly flaccid penis, "Imperio. Watch me, but don't move."

Injured and helpless to resist, Clark's eyes glazed over, and Bellatrix quaffed her potion. The pain started, just as it always did with Polyjuice. A moment later, she opened her eyes again only to see a blur of gold and red and yellow.

"Oh, silly me, I almost forgot," she said. She felt around until she found her pouch.

"Accio glasses," she thought, and the world came into focus as she shoved the spare spectacles onto her face.

"So, what do you think?" she asked as she turned around then thrust her fingers through the curly dark hair between her legs, "who better than your saviour? Think I'll keep my voice though, so you know it isn't really the Chosen One who's fucking you."

Her borrowed cock was already hardening at the thought and the touch of her fingers. Clark only stared at her, and she rolled her eyes.

"Right, part two," she said as she tucked the gag down over Clark's chin, "drink."

Forced by the Unforgivable, Clark swallowed all of the Polyjuice, and Bellatrix watched and pointed her stolen wand to tighten the bonds as his body bubbled and shrank into a perfect copy of Bellatrix Black's, right down to the uninjured bones. She giggled.

"Oh, this is too good, an unexpected bonus… I get to do it again!" she said as she noticed his restored body. A second round of bone crushing bludgeoning curses followed, this time against her doppleganger bound on the ground, and an extra one to his wand hand, just in case.

"Right, are you ready?" she asked, "of course not, that's the point."

She used Clark's wand to transfigure a few nearby twigs into posts and drove them into the ground.

"Twiddle widdle fiddle, play me a song," she sang quietly as she worked and Clark writhed on the ground, "I promise I will be good, all day long…"

Satisfied with the posts, she lashed Clark's legs, now they were her legs, to the posts, forcing them wide, especially the broken one.

He groaned in pain and his eyes fluttered.

"Oh no no, no passing out for you," she said a she pulled the pepper up from her pouch and fed him a sip. His eyes wide and lucid again, Bellatrix stood up and ended the Imperius curse as she dropped the wand near the edge of the ward.

"Now, let me show you how this feels," she said as she knelt down between Clark's forcibly spread thighs.

"Please, please don't," he said.

"Oh shut up," she said as she stuck the gag back in his mouth. Then she leaned on his shattered pelvis with the heel of her palm for good measure, and he screamed in vain through the gag.

The anticipation already had her fairly turned on, but by her estimation, Harry's cock wasn't quite hard enough to penetrate, not yet.

"Okay, never done this before but it shouldn't be too hard," she thought as she held the semi-erect member in her hand, "hard, haha. Good one Bella."

She stroked it a few times and knelt lower to let the cock settle against the naked groin in front of her.

"I've always wanted to fuck myself… this is pretty hot," she said as she looked down into her own face, eyes squeezed shut.

"That won't do," she thought, and she grabbed a handful of wild raven locks and jerked forcefully.

"Look at me, don't close your eyes," she said, "you're going to look into Harry Potter's eyes while he fucks you raw, or I really will cut off your balls and feed them to you."

Her own terrified silver-flecked orbs stared back at her and Clark nodded.

She released him and got to work, rubbing the penis sprouting from her loins against her own bald cunt. What struck her was how centralised the sensations were. As a woman, her whole body lit on fire, but as Harry, everything seemed dulled except for her now raging hard-on, and all she wanted to do was pound her cock into something.

"Lucky me," she thought. She punched Clark's hip again and just as he screamed in agony, she rammed the head of Harry's cock into the entrance, but barely got an inch in as she met resistance from the dry passage.

"Twiddle widdle fiddle…" she thought as she started thrusting, grunting and going deeper with each forward motion. The wetness on the inside spread, and it felt glorious, almost as glorious as Clark's cries of pain and tears streaking from his eyes. On a whim, she leaned forward and licked one of them up, salty on her tongue. She finally managed to penetrate all the way to the hilt, as deep as Harry's cock could go, and relished the sensation for a moment. Then she started pounding again, digging her fingernails into breasts and nipples, and occasionally slamming her fist into his broken pelvis, just in case he was starting to enjoy it.

Her orgasm built quickly, starting in her balls, then exploding out of her as she frantically kept thrusting through the convulsions, not wanting it to end but not able to prolong it any longer. The last one spent with a shudder, she thrusted a few more times into the flooded passage, until her borrowed cock started to soften. Bellatrix stood up, kicked Clark in the knee, then fished around in her pouch for robes and threw them on to cover up. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she recoiled at what she'd just done.

"He deserved it, ten times over. Besides, that was kind of fun," she thought. She glanced back at him, trapped in her bound and broken body, blood and cum leaking from the hole she'd just fucked.

"You're so fucking pathetic," she said, "crucio."

It was a half-hearted torture curse and she broke it off easily, but the convulsions were still enough to expel more bloody cum onto the forest floor. Bellatrix conjured a chair and sat down to wait for the Polyjuice to wear off, occasionally hitting Clark with a lacklustre torture curse when she thought he might be getting comfortable.

"I need to pee," she thought, then glanced at her doppleganger on the ground.

She stood up and opened her robe, revealing Harry's member again. Whereas a few minutes ago it had been a mighty weapon penetrating Clark, now it was a sad looking little thing, all soft and floppy. She stood over the helpless former Auror and aimed as she tried to relax; she wasn't used to peeing while standing up. The first bit missed but she adjusted and soon hot piss streamed and splattered all over Clark's face and hair as he squeezed his eyes shut. The stream slowed to a dribble and stopped, and Bellatrix went back to waiting. It only took another ten minutes for the pain to start again, and then she was back in her own body, and Clark in his. She forgot to enlarge the ropes and nearly crushed his ribs, but luckily remembered at the last second.

"Not that it would make much difference," she thought.

Having shrunk back to normal size, she fastened the ties on her robe, stuffed her feet back into her black boots, then kicked Clark's leg to ensure it remained broken through the transformation. The wooden spikes she returned to their original form, and she turned to Clark again.

"Now for the fun part," she said, "hold still."

Carefully, she aimed at the border between his stomach and chest.

"Contra costas," she said with a twist and flick. His lowest rib snapped and he screamed through the gag. As Bellatrix drew her wand back, the broken rib moved with it, until the skin of his lower chest split open, revealing a jagged tip of blood covered bone. Over the next hour or so, she repeated the procedure, breaking each rib and reversing its curve until they all protruded from his chest or back, and he resembled a kind of nightmarish centipede.

"Here, drink," she said as she uncorked the wiggenweld. She only gave him a sip, enough to stop the bleeding but not enough to repair the bones.

"Stop whinging," she said as she stood up. Sunset had come to the Forbidden Forest, and while she wanted to play with Clark for days, she needed to get back home.

She gathered the ward stones, then hit him with a feather light charm and took an end of the rope to drag him through the Forest. After all their expeditions searching for reagents, she knew her way around fairly well. She hiked towards the acromantula nests, and he occasionally bumped into a tree with a whimper, but Bellatrix ignored him; she needed to keep her eyes and ears peeled in case any nasty critters that called the Forest home smelled Clark's blood and came looking. As twilight fell, the temperature started dropping, but with a shiver up her spine and a flashback of her cell, Bellatrix recognised the dread aura for what it was.

"Shit shit shiiiit," she said in a singsong voice as she pulled out the ward stones again. She wasn't ready to kill Clark and be done with it just yet.

She set up the three ward stones in a triangle again, though the tingle was not nearly as powerful as the first one, she hoped it would be sufficient to conceal her.

"Probably. Most likely," she thought, "oh wait!"

"Seems I lied about you being reunited with your sister," she said with a kiss planted directly on Clark's cheek.

"Oh, forgot that I peed on him," she thought as she smacked her lips, "well, that was kind of gross."

Before he could respond, she used the wand to remove his gag, then shove him beyond the boundary of the ward and let him fall to the ground. He gave off an agonised gurgling sound as his protruding ribs bumped up against internal organs. With one good leg, he tried to push his way back inside, but as it was her blood ward and not his, he bumped up against the invisible barrier. Bellatrix knelt down a few metres away from the edge as her breath started to steam. Clark continued to struggle against the edge of the ward as a trio of dementors approached.

"No… no," he said, "please no."

His movements grew slower as despair claimed him, and one of the dementors picked his head up with one bony hand, and with a great sucking sound, peeled off some of his essence.

"This is it," Bella thought as the dementors descended to feed.

A small ball of pale, wan light coalesced from Clark's chest, and he slumped over. It tried to move away, but the dementors surrounded it. One of them drew bits of it into its hood, like scraping small bubbles off of a large spinning globe. A horrible, screeching, keening filled her ears, and Bellatrix covered them with both palms, to no avail. Dully, she realised she wasn't hearing with her ears; she was hearing with her soul, as Clark's cried out while it was devoured and the dementors prevented it from escaping or returning to his body. Her own life force felt diminished as she stared, terrified at the profane feast, but unable to look away. The wan light shrank, shuddered, flickered, and then went out, entirely consumed by the trio of dementors, with nothing but a few wisps of glowing light and echoes remaining, and then… nothing. The Dark creatures looked no different, neither energised nor weakened by the Kiss. They milled about for a moment, as if seeking another victim, then drifted off. Bellatrix waited several minutes until after their aura faded before she stepped out of the ward to Clark's slumped body. He still breathed.

She nudged his broken pelvis with the toe of her boot, and he groaned in pain, eyes rolling about lazily.

"Clark?" she said.

"Buuhh," he said as his gaze slowly moved towards her. She tried to read his thoughts, but there was nothing… Brandon Clark was gone, utterly consumed.

"I kind of feel bad, but not really," she thought.

Night was almost upon her, so she picked up the ward stones, levitated Clark's body, and continued hiking. When she spotted wisps of silk in the trees, she stopped, sliced Clark's wrist with the wand just in case the protruding ribs weren't enough, and tossed him forward, into a small clearing. When she set up the ward stones this time, she didn't feel any tingle at all, so she disillusioned herself and waited.

Drawn by the scent of blood in the air, it wasn't long before a skittering sound drew her attention. A pair of acromantulas approached, one significantly larger than the other, as Clark moaned and mumbled in the dirt. The larger one prodded him with a long front leg, and he groaned in pain. Then the smaller one charged in and went for the fleshy bits between his legs, and tore the entire package off, leaving nothing but a bloody crater where his balls and cock used to be. Bellatrix winced as Clark's high-pitched shriek echoed through the forest, and, as if it were a dinner bell, a dozen acromantulas swarmed from the darkness and savagely tore Clark's body to pieces, each of them taking what they could back to their nest. In less than a minute, all that remained was a black stain on the ground in the silvery light of the gibbous moon.

"And that's that," she thought, "do I feel bad? Kind of. Maybe I should have got him off one last time, smeared his spunk into his eyes or something. Oh well."

Without ceremony, she tossed Clark's wand onto the blood-stained dirt, drew her own, and apparated to Grimmauld place.

"Harry?" she asked.

Kreacher appeared.

"Master Harry has not yet returned. Is young Miss hungry?" he asked.

Bellatrix paused for a second.

"Perhaps something quick," she said. Kreacher bowed low and vanished again. Bellatrix quickly pulled out the dossier, already returned to its original packaging, and set it on the floor in front of the mail slot, then returned Harry's old specs to his night table drawer. She scrubbed her hands in the loo and made it to the dining table just as Kreacher arrived with a plate of sandwiches and a glass of pumpkin juice. Right on cue, her stomach rumbled, and she tucked in. Near starved from having barely eaten all day, she finished off two sandwiches in rapid succession.

"Shower," she thought as she gulped down pumpkin juice.

She apparated to Hermione's living room and, having made it home before the muggleborn, stripped off in the guest room. Invigorated by the Unforgivables she'd cast, and exultant at finally exacting her revenge on Clark, even if it lasted less than a day, she boldly walked naked down the hall to the loo. Hot water sluiced off the filth of the day, the dirt from her knees and feet, whatever taint remained of fucking Clark on the ground with Harry's borrowed body. She replayed the memories in her mind's eye.

"Damn, I'm ready to go again," she thought as she ran her fingers over her groin as the water streamed down her body.

As she towelled off, she felt stretched, somewhat frayed at the seams, but better than she had in over a month. Completely humiliating Clark and feeding him to the dementors was definitely the right thing to do. Her mind shifted to Hermione, as it often did. Looking back, it was now obvious to her that her former lover had been doing her utmost to hold back her urges. If she'd had only pressed a little firmer, she'd have broken through the wall for sure.

"What in Merlin's name were you thinking Bella? Why so timid?" she thought, "you've had great sex before, you know what she likes."

She also realised the dementors had done a number on her the second time around, even more than the first. She supposed that with no real happy memories when she went in the first time, they didn't have much to feed on. She put Azkaban out of her mind.

"When she comes home tonight, I'm going to take her and make her beg," she thought.

Still drying her hair with her wand, she didn't bother dressing except for her silk bathrobe, and then stood on bare feet in the carpeted hallway near the top of the steps, twirling her wand as she waited for Hermione to arrive home and climb up. The minutes ticked by, and Bellatrix Black was left alone with her thoughts…

---

Hermione apparated into her living room and stowed her wand with a weary sigh. She and Percy were making great progress, but he was just as driven as she, and it looked like there would be no end to the long hours, at least not in the short term. She kicked off her shoes and padded up the steps.

"Bella's probably already asleep," she thought. Just as she reached the top though, her limbs seized up, and her eyes widened in shock and froze there as a wordless full-body-bind ensnared her.

"Shit," she thought as she started toppling backwards.

A hand reached out and snagged the top of her robes and pulled her forward, to safety.

"Whoops, that was a close one," Bella said. Hermione's heart skipped a beat.

"Thank Merlin it's only her… but what in the world is she up to?" Hermione thought.

"Relax. You're going to have to trust me," Bellatrix said. She hummed a cheery tune and another spell washed over Hermione. She then felt herself dragged towards her room, the beneficiary of a featherlight charm. Unable to move, she resolved to give Bellatrix an earful when the body-bind wore off. At the same time, her heart hammered in her chest, even though her limbs remained completely immobilised. Bellatrix leaned her against the bed and Hermione felt her socks slipped off one at a time, followed by her outer robes as Bellatrix used her wand to rearrange her limbs as necessary.

"She's removing my clothes with her wand?" Hermione thought. Where had this new assertiveness come from all of a sudden?

"You're clearly overdressed," Bellatrix said.

The rest of her clothing followed, until she only wore her knickers, and a little bit of embarrassment crept up; she couldn't even cover her chest with her hands. Suddenly, a diffuse orange glow lit the room, and Hermione realised Bella had set up at least a dozen candles, on her desk, on her dresser, even one on her night table.

"Thought it would set the mood," Bellatrix said, "do you trust me?"

She leaned over and looked Hermione in the eye, and a light probe tickled her mind.

"She's using legilimency to ask permission to… do what?" Hermione thought.

Bellatrix snickered.

"Ah ah, that would be telling," she said, "I asked if you trust me."

"Sneaky vixen! When did you learn how to do this?" Hermione thought, but there was no response as she stared into silver-flecked, heavy-lidded eyes. In the soft glow of numerous candles, they looked more than ever like a field of sparkling stars.

"I trust you," she thought.

Bellatrix grinned, set her down on the bed, stretched one arm up and Hermione felt a rope bind it to the bedpost. Her other arm followed until it too was lashed to the opposite post, not tight, but tight enough to restrict her movement and leave her torso completely exposed and vulnerable. Only then did the body-bind release.

She tried to ignore both the situation she found herself in and the coiling heat in her belly.

"What is all this?" she finally sputtered.

"A good time, promise," Bellatrix said as she straddled Hermione's hips.

"She's not wearing anything under the robe," Hermione thought as she immediately felt the heat radiating from Bella's sex, "and she's turned on, really turned on."

She shuddered as Bella leaned forward to kiss her, only the thin silk robe separating their breasts from skin-to-skin contact. Body heat bled through to her stomach and Hermione immediately felt the familiar tingle spread downwards to her groin. She moaned into Bella's mouth… chagrin at being literally captured, stripped bare, and tied to her bed rapidly morphed into desire. Her head fell back as Bella moved to her neck, then clamped down with her teeth. Hermione winced and gasped at the sharp pain, followed by a soothing lick.

"That's going to leave a mark," she thought.

She wanted to hold Bella, to pull her tight, but with her wrists bound, the most she could do was vainly try to follow her as Bellatrix leaned back and re-adjusted her robe. Hermione felt the last of her resolve crumble like a breached sandbag wall succumbing to the ocean.

"Don't make me wait," she said as she panted.

"What's the magic word?" Bella asked.

"Please?" Hermione said.

"Please what?" Bellatrix asked.

"Please don't make me wait, I want it… I want you," she said. She tugged lightly at her restraints.

Bellatrix smiled at that, a real, genuine smile, but she stood up and opened Hermione's desk drawer.

"We're going to have fun tonight. I couldn't find a proper one, and I'm not going to risk a transfiguration, so, this'll have to do," Bellatrix said as she held up Hermione's old hairbrush, "it's not like you need it anymore; magic is much easier."

She aimed her wand at it and circled around a little bit, then placed the handle against Hermione's thigh.

"She turned it into a vibrator?" Hermione thought, "wait, when did she learn how to do that?"

The thought collapsed into nothingness as the hairbrush drifted closer to her knickers, and then skimmed over them to her other thigh.

"Bloody tease," she thought.

"Hurry," she said, her voice barely above a whimper.

Bellatrix smirked at her, and Hermione lifted her hips as the other witch slowly slid her knickers down and off to be tossed onto the floor. Bella paused, and Hermione rubbed her thighs together to try and get some kind of friction, but it wasn't nearly enough. Bellatrix let the vibrating brush hover above for a few seconds, and Hermione resisted the urge to buck her hips and make contact with it; Bellatrix would surely punish her for that. Finally, she dipped it down to circle around her clit, and a tickling sensation quickly gave way to a familiar building pressure. She wanted to reach out and cover all of Bella at once, but with her wrists tied, she couldn't even sit up. The most she could do was lay back, writhe on her sheets, and spread her thighs as far as she could. Bellatrix must have sensed her need though, because she leaned over and kissed her deeply, fiercely, their tongues clashing while the makeshift vibrator sent waves of pleasure through her. Without breaking their kiss, Bella cupped one breast, then tweaked her other nipple. Hermione broke the kiss and threw her head back again, breaths coming quicker as the vibrating handle circled her clit, still teasing, until finally it pressed directly.

"So close, so close," she thought.

"I'm… almost…" she said, words failing her as she rode the wave higher, "don't stop… don't-."

"I'm just… about…." she thought as she thrust up into the point of pleasure, "just a little bit…more…"

The sensations abruptly stopped, leaving her gasping, hips bucking but finding nothing but air. Her orgasm, just within her grasp, dissolved and slipped through her fingers. Eyes snapped open to see Bella, her body lit by the orange glow of the candles, throwing her robe onto the floor.

"No! please!" Hermione said, desperate, "finish it!"

"Not until you do what I say," Bellatrix said, "will you do what I say?"

Hermione nodded vigorously. Bella could have asked anything of her in that moment, and she would have agreed. The dark-haired witch smirked and slid Hermione down slightly, giving her enough space to straddle her head with her knees nearly against the headboard.

"Use your tongue, lick me," she said.

Hermione stared up at her torso, past the flat stomach to hardened nipples, her youthful body now fully recovered from Azkaban. Bellatrix started to use the vibrator on herself, staring down into Hermione's eyes as she ground her groin against her face. The vibration passed through and onto Hermione's lips. The golden girl thrust her tongue into tangy folds, doing as she was told. She might have found the position degrading, if she wasn't more turned on than she'd ever been in her life. A few shudders went through her from her almost-orgasm, and she moaned into Bella's sex. That seemed to set her off even more, and the raven-haired witch threw her head back and clenched Hermione's hair with one hand, but Hermione didn't even mind the pain. The pitch of Bella's breaths changed, and Hermione moaned one last time, driving her over the edge. She lifted up slightly, and with a final 'Oh', a bit of hot juice barely missed Hermione's eye and landed on her cheek, where it rapidly cooled. She blinked, stopped herself from giggling, and looked up at Bella's heaving breasts as she panted. Those beautiful eyes opened again to capture Hermione's gaze as the hairbrush came away.

"I love you," she said.

"I need," Hermione thought.

"Please," Hermione said.

Bellatrix nodded with a grin and turned around. The hairbrush went back to massaging her clit, and this time, Bella also curled a finger inside her, then quickly added a second. The combination of sensations had her quickly cresting the wave again, and this time there was no tease; she came hard, clenching tight around Bellatrix's fingers as Hermione clutched her restraints and her vision blacked out. Next thing she knew, her hands were free and her legs tangled with Bella's beneath her covers. She took a few deep breaths as shadows danced on the walls from the flickering candlelight. Her old hairbrush lay on the night table.

"Wow, where did that come from?" Hermione asked, her heart still racing as little aftershocks twitched through her limbs.

"I just um… I got tired of dancing around, I suppose," Bella replied, "aren't you glad?"

Hermione chuckled and kissed Bella softly on the lips; once again it was just the two of them, the rest of the world forgotten. They broke apart and Hermione stroked her ear as she stared deep into starry eyes.

"That was… well, wow, not that I'm complaining but…" she said, "you've never been… I mean, even at Hogwarts you never…"

Bellatrix stroked her back, and Hermione sighed, leaned into her, and closed her eyes again. She let her stay quiet for a moment, but something was off.

"Something's changed," Hermione said, "won't you tell me what happened?"

Bellatrix did not answer for some time, then she shifted to lay on her back and her hand found Hermione's between them. Hermione opened her eyes to see Bellatrix studying the bedsheets with a thoughtful expression.

"Honesty, right?" she asked as she interlaced fingers.

Hermione paused. It must be something serious.

"This is important," Hermione thought, "she's about to share, and she wants to know that by being open and honest, she's not going to ruin everything. You need to show her that sharing secrets isn't a bad thing."

She gave Bella's hand a reassuring squeeze… whatever it was, she resolved to be open and understanding, especially considering what they'd just done together. Bellatrix sighed, and then sighed again. Finally, she spoke.

"When you went to Europe, I used the ingredients at Winthrop's house to brew an obliviation cure," she said as she stared up at the ceiling above them, "and I used it.. I remember everything."

Hermione froze. She wasn't expecting that.

"E-Everything?" she asked.

"Well… I don't know if I remember everything," Bella replied with a small smile, "honestly, how would I know if I've forgotten something?"

She tried a half-hearted smirk, but Hermione could tell she was nervous.

"So…" Bellatrix said.

"Everything, like the war, and…" Hermione asked.

"Yes, all of that," Bellatrix replied.

Hermione only realised she started to pull her hand away when Bella gripped it tightly. For a split second she caught the desperate look in Bella's eye before it vanished.

"Umm… are you umm… have you changed or… I mean obviously you've changed, obviously," Hermione said, "but how much...?"

"How much of Julia is left?" she thought.

"Not much changed, I don't think. The memories, they were different than normal, like watching a film," Bella replied, "I told you, it was always me when we were at Hogwarts, that hasn't changed. It all was me, except my name, and really, what's in a name?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and smacked Bellatrix lightly on the shoulder.

"Seriously?" Hermione said, "you know it didn't work well out for them."

Bella nodded and grew quiet, and Hermione let her; she figured opening up wasn't something she was used to.

"Okay, she has her memories back, but clearly hasn't reverted to a raving lunatic blood purist, so… that's a good thing," Hermione thought.

From what she knew, Bellatrix Lestrange was very much a loner, except when it came to Voldemort. As she thought about it more, she wondered on her experiences… the Bellatrix she met at Hogwarts had still been in school.

"Would she have ever had anyone she could turn to?" she thought.

Hermione knew Bella was the eldest of three sisters and two younger cousins. Growing up, she would have been the one to set an example for the others. At Hogwarts, she was in Slytherin, and then the Death Eaters. All her life, showing weakness of any kind to anyone would have been frowned upon, or in the case of Riddle, painful or potentially fatal. But Julia had had Hermione, with whom she'd shared so much already. Perhaps they did have something special.

"The fact she's even giving me this much…" Hermione thought.

"Remember in the tent, we used to hold hands after, and just be with one another?" Hermione asked, "I've never done that with anyone."

"I'm sure she hasn't either, but she's not the type to come right out and tell you," she thought.

Bellatrix squeezed her hand, but otherwise stayed silent.

"Thirty years…" Hermione said.

Bella nodded, and Hermione held her breath for a moment.

"That makes you what, forty-eight?" Hermione asked.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes at that.

"Tart," she said, "I feel eighteen, and I look eighteen. That should be good enough for you."

Hermione grinned, then grew serious again.

"In all that time, did you have anyone you could talk to? I mean really talk to?" she asked.

Bellatrix shrugged.

"I don't know, do dementors count? I never needed anyone. I'm more than enough witch on my own," she replied.

Hermione let go of Bella's hand and snuck one arm beneath her pillow and the other over the top to hug her.

"Oh fuck off," Bellatrix said with a wry smile. Hermione laughed quietly.

"You really remember everything?" Hermione asked.

Bellatrix nodded.

"And you still love me?" Hermione asked.

"I do love you… I think," she said, "I've never felt this way before, at least, not about anyone…. but…"

Hermione waited for her to gather herself.

Bellatrix suddenly sat up.

"Let's go out," she said.

"Out? Where?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know, muggle London," Bellatrix said, "I can't sleep."

"Uh… it's the middle of the night, and some of us have to be up for work tomorrow," Hermione said.

"Tomorrow's Friday and you've already put in well more than forty hours this week," Bellatrix said, "tell them you're sick. I guarantee the work will still be there on Monday. And if it makes you feel better, you can always go in on Saturday or Sunday."

She looked Hermione in the eye.

"Come on, just this once," she said.

With those long-lashed silver-flecked eyes pleading with her, there was no way Hermione could say no.

Less than an hour later, dressed in muggle jeans and jackets, they strolled the touristy areas near Big Ben. Even at this time of night, people still walked the streets, and Hermione and Bella held hands in the chill evening.

"I like this," Hermione said as she leaned into Bella, enjoyed the feel of their bodies pressed together through their jackets, "it reminds me of Christmas, do you remember?"

She still wasn't sure how she felt about Bellatrix having recovered all of her memories, or how that changed things, but she wanted to keep hold of as much of her time with Julia as she could.

"Of course I do," Bella replied, "it was right after I found out the Dark Lord… the truth about the Dark Lord."

The walked a little bit more in silence, and Hermione ran her thumb over the small scar on Bella's hand.

"Maybe we can spend Christmas together again this year," Hermione said.

"You did promise," Bella said.

They stopped at a zebra crossing and waited for the light to turn green.

"I killed Brandon Clark," Bellatrix said without warning.

"I'm sorry, what?" Hermione asked as she turned to face the other witch.

"Well, not me specifically, but I arranged for him to no longer be alive," Bellatrix said.

"I… uh… how?" Hermione asked.

"I… tortured him a little bit and then three dementors Kissed him, and then I fed what was left to acromantulas," Bellatrix said.

"That's… that's…." Hermione said.

Bella turned to look her in the eye, and Hermione's desire for justice for Bella against Clark warred with her sensibility to treat criminals humanely.

"Can you blame me though?" Bella asked.

What Bellatrix had been through was horrible. How could Hermione, who hadn't suffered anything near what she had, possibly judge her actions in the wake of that experience? The light turned green but they didn't move, and it wasn't until the green man flashed that she responded.

"Would I have done the same?" she thought, "I'd like to think not, but…"

"No," Hermione replied, and they turned to run across the street, hand in hand, to make it before the light turned red.

"What the bloody hell is that?" Bellatrix asked as she pointed. They'd cleared the corner of the nearest building and a new structure had gone up across the river.

"I don't know, looks like a giant Ferris wheel," Hermione replied as she squinted at the out-of-place construction.

"Let's take a closer look," Bellatrix said. She pulled Hermione next to a large handicapped ramp next to the building, drew her wand, and apparated them both to the base of the structure.

"Urp," Hermione said as she fought down the nausea of side-along, "warn me next time!"

"Sorry," Bellatrix said, not sounding sorry at all, "Wow, it's even bigger up close. What do you think it's for?"

"Looks like people ride up in those… compartments, and at the top you'll have a good view of the city," Hermione said as she walked to a sign posted on a fence, "bad luck, it doesn't open until December."

"It looks fairly sturdy to me," Bellatrix said, "let's apparate to the top."

"That sounds like a great way to plummet to our deaths," Hermione said.

"Not on top, inside the topmost booth or whatever the muggles are calling these things," Bellatrix said as she pointed, "it's right there, we can apparate inside."

"I'm not…" Hermione said.

"I'm not sure I can apparate directly inside it," she thought.

Bellatrix held out an arm.

"Fair warning, prepare yourself for side-along," Bella said with a giggle.

Hermione rolled her eyes and held on with both hands. They appeared with a crack, and Hermione doubled over. When she stood up though, her breath caught at the sight of the city lights laid out all around them.

"Wow," she said as a smile played on her lips.

"Yeah," Bellatrix said, but when Hermione looked at her, the pureblood was already staring at her face and smiling. Heat rose to Hermione's cheeks and she smiled back.

They held hands and stepped up to the glass to stare down at the lights of London together.

"I'm going to leave," Bellatrix said softly.

"Leave?" Hermione asked.

"I'm going to leave England," she replied.

Hermione tightened her hold on Bella's hand.

"Why?" she asked, "when? Where will you go?"

Bellatrix looked at her with such an expression of raw vulnerability that Hermione nearly pulled her into a hug to try and take some of the pain away. Instead, she led her over to the row of seats in the centre of the pod.

"I'm not welcome here, I never will be," she said.

"But… Harry's come around, I'm sure others will too," Hermione said.

Bella shook her head.

"Come on, you said it yourself. They shouldn't hold me responsible for things I didn't do, but now… that's just it, turns out I did," Bellatrix said, "misguided, sure, but I did all those things, and even if it wasn't my fault, they're not going to care."

It was true. The entire crux of Hermione's argument at the trial was that Bellatrix Black was not the same as Bellatrix Lestrange, and shouldn't be punished for events she couldn't recall. Now that she remembered everything she'd done, she probably did belong in prison, even if she realised she had been wrong. Everything John Tilworth had argued was correct; even if Bellatrix did feel remorse and apologise, even if she never committed another crime for the rest of her life, that didn't mean she should escape punishment.

"It also means a good portion of those damn opinion pieces about me in the Prophet are true as well," Hermione thought as she absently stroked Bella's thumb.

"How can I look Longbottom or Andy in the eye, knowing what I did?" Bellatrix asked, "bad enough about your arm. There's no possible atonement here. Longbottom will never forgive me for taking his parents away, and neither will Andy. I killed her daughter, for Merlin's sake, and her husband, not that she knows about that and please don't tell her. I can't stay."

Anger and betrayal flared in Hermione's chest.

"So you thought 'let's have one last shag and then I can head off'?" she asked.

Bellatrix looked at her seriously and took both her hands.

"Come with me," the pureblood said.

Hermione blinked. She hadn't expected that.

"There's a hundred cities like London in the world, we can visit all of them, see everything, just like tonight," Bellatrix said, a manic gleam coming to her eye, "two witches with the whole world in front of us. Wouldn't that be amazing?"

It did sound amazing, but..

"But everything I've ever known is here, all my friends, and this huge opportunity at the Ministry… I'd be giving up my career before it even got started," Hermione said.

"I can't believe I'm actually considering this," she thought.

"Pish, career. We're brilliant and talented enough to make money whenever we want," Bellatrix said, "and it's not like you won't be able to visit your friends. They'll be an international portkey or two away."

Hermione's thoughts flipped between the two options, back and forth.

"But we're really doing a lot of good…" she said, "I…"

Her mind raced; she needed more time to think. Maybe there was a way they could be together without running away?

"What if… what if we kept dating, secretly," Hermione said, "coffee was fun, and tonight is fun too. We could try dinner or something next time. We don't necessarily have to leave everything behind."

Bellatrix's smile faded.

"Glamours?" she said, "sneaking around in the middle of the night? A secret relationship? It almost sounds like you're ashamed of me."

Hermione shook her head.

"I'm being pragmatic. It's a way for you to be friends with my friends," she said, but Bellatrix ploughed on.

"You think Bellatrix Black would settle for hiding in the shadows while you chase after your promotions or whatever useless titles or meaningless awards they deign to toss your direction?" she asked, her voice rising, "not to mention the hypocrisy… a glamoured girlfriend is exactly what Julia White was, and you hated me for it when you found out. Now you want to do the same thing to your friends?"

"I don't want to lose you!" Hermione said, and that seemed to get through to Bella, "but I don't want to give it all up either! It's important to me. I… I don't know what to do."

The pureblood looked at her with wide eyes for a moment, then she threw her head back and laughed, full throated, and Hermione's eyes widened.

"I don't believe it," Bella said.

Hermione's eyebrows came together in confusion.

"You… you have a bright future ahead of you, you're talented, and popular, and beautiful, and you fancy me, but I'm an undesirable," Bellatrix said, and she laughed again, "if your friends knew we were dating, they would ostracize you, and your colleagues would look down on you; it would probably affect your advancement."

She pointed at Hermione.

"Don't you see! You're the pureblood," Bellatrix said, then pointed at herself, "and I'm the mudblood!"

"No, that's not-" Hermione said, but it was true. Somehow, their roles had reversed. Bella's expression grew sad.

"I've seen it a dozen times; I know how this story ends," Bellatrix said, "Pure blood heir has their fun and then when reality sets in, when all your friends intervene and tell you you're destroying your life, you get rid of me and go back to your perfect society. Oh, I know you'll be gentle, try to be understanding… but it always ends the same way. You'll convince yourself you're 'just being pragmatic'… and you think that I, I? would settle for that?"

The truth of the matter was not lost on Hermione; this was exactly what Andromeda had gone through.

"And I obliviated Eric Widly rather than let my reputation suffer," she thought, to her shame.

"I won't," Hermione said.

"Think you're my sister, do you?" Bella asked, suddenly deadly serious as she looked her in the eye, "you're not."

Hermione felt on the verge of tears, but words failed her. Bella's expression softened. She reached out to stroke her hair and cup her cheek, and Hermione leaned into her touch.

"I love you. But I don't love you enough to stick around and wait for them to find a reason to throw me back in Azkaban," Bella said, her beautiful eyes brimming with tears as well, "I'm not going back. Take your time, but don't take too long. A girl like me won't wait around forever."

Bellatrix pulled her close and kissed her deeply, tongue slow and sensuous, then stared into her eyes as she nibbled her lower lip and scraped a fingernail down her cheek. Bellatrix Black stepped back, turned, gave her one last lingering look, and apparated with a loud pop.

Now alone in the pod, Hermione took a shuddering breath and turned back to the window to look down at the city of London.

"What am I going to do?" she thought.

---

Chapter 51 Trigger Warnings: Kidnapping, Torture, NonCon,