Hermione watches as Narcissa tiredly lowers her wand, exhaling heavily. A trickle of sweat runs down the side of her face, and Narcissa dries it with a lazy flick of her wand.
They've been at it for over an hour now. Countless "Legilimens" have been uttered, and Narcissa has been meticulous in her search, no place unturned in Hermione's mind. It's been exhausting for both of them, and Hermione is in desperate need of a break now. Judging by the weary smile she is offered by the other witch, Narcissa could do with one too. Still, regardless of that, the blonde's eyes light up unexpectedly.
"I think I have it figured out," she informs Hermione triumphantly.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Hermione shrugs. "Maybe we should stop? If you haven't found anything by now, then maybe there is nothing to be found?"
Narcissa shakes her head. "No, that's not it. There is something there, Hermione. I can feel it when I am inside of your mind."
"Then why can't you find it? Or access it? Or whatever it is you do when you're in there?"
It's a valid question, and Hermione can see the pause Narcissa takes as she tries her best to formulate words that will be easily understood. In the end, what leaves her mouth is simple, and entirely unexpected.
"It's you," Narcissa reveals with a decisive nod. "I've been going about this all wrong, looking for the tell-tale remnants that have been left behind by someone altering your memories, but I can't find them. It's you," she repeats more firmly.
"What do you mean it's me?"
"I think that you have repressed your own memories of something. An event, or a time in your life, or maybe even a person. It could be anything, but sometimes we protect ourselves from the things that hurt us, and I have to wonder if this is true for you. With your permission, I will look again, now I have a better idea of what to look for," Narcissa suggests, reaching out to squeeze her hand again.
A part of Hermione wants to refuse. She's tired, and emotionally drained after the tidal wave of memories that Narcissa has been sifting through in order to look for something relevant. There is not much time though, so she finds herself reluctantly nodding.
"Try again, Cissa," she permits, looking longingly at the door and wishing she could go and find Bellatrix.
Hermione grips hold of her hand for comfort, needing the connection to a friendly source as they delve back into her mind for the umpteenth time. This time everything is different, and Narcissa takes them to a barely visible shimmer in the deepest recesses of her brain. She can practically feel the triumph radiating from the older witch as she finds exactly what they have been looking for, and Hermione lets herself surrender to the memories that are being freshly revealed.
The moment she sees him, she knows that he is part of her. Same eyes, same nose, same giggle of excitement when they unwrap presents on their shared birthday. Hermione watches them grow up over the years, best friends who tell each other everything. Alex is not just her brother, but her best friend, and it's them against the world… until it isn't.
When they reach their twelfth birthday everything begins to change. It's subtle at first, a gentle distance growing between them, no longer turning to each other for comfort or support. The space between them grows, a chasm opening up that is so wide that Hermione feels like she no longer recognises the once sunshine-filled boy who has been with her since the womb.
Their magic - once so similar - begins to change. The intent behind it becomes obvious; Alex showing a desire to learn how to control and force the things he wants. Hermione herself discovering a love of ancient runes, arithmancy and transfiguration, though alongside that a rather potent love for duelling. For someone who is renowned for being so gentle, Hermione is lethal; unbeatable by anyone crossing her path who is foolish enough to try. She wears her victories well, with a quiet confidence that takes the sting out of other's failures. Never smug, never gloating, she is always happy to offer a hand to help someone up from the floor.
Shared laughter between Hermione and Alex morphs into bickering, which soon progresses into fights; twisting and turning their friendship into something ugly until Hermione is watching herself at seventeen, standing with her back against the wall, a wand tip pressed against her throat.
"Alex, stop. Please."
He laughs cruelly. "I always knew I would best you in a duel. Everyone thinks that you're so perfect, but you're weak, Emma. Your title is wasted on you and so is your magic."
As Hermione watches the memory, it's almost jarring now to hear her first name being used.
"Is that what this is about?" she wonders, searching manic eyes for an answer she isn't sure she wants. "You want to be the heir?"
"Eight minutes!" he screeches in her face. "You are eight minutes older than me, that's all. Yet I get nothing and you get it all. You don't even want it!"
She breathes evenly, though her hands are shaking out of sight down by her sides. "I never asked for this, Alex. It's just how things are."
"You're wasting it all. You are so powerful, and you are the heir to everything that I want, and you're wasting all of it. All that power at your fingertips and you refuse to use it. You're just like them," he snarls, his lip curling up in disgust.
"Who?"
"Our parents, of course. They're just as weak as you are, ruling over this land, but refusing to take any real power. Does our history mean nothing to any of you? We are royalty, Emma, yet we bow down to the peasants and let them force us to be governed by a council."
"No one forced us to do anything," Hermione reminds him. "We chose to form a council. It was the right thing to do, Alex. No one should have that much power and nowhere should be ruled by just one person. That's a dictatorship, and the time for them is long in the past."
"You make me sick," he seethes, wand now pointing at her face. "What's the point in being so fucking powerful if you don't use it? We could rule the world, but you refuse to even rule your own people."
Hermione shakes her head, eyes watering as she delivers a truth that has been rattling around in her mind for a while now. "And it's for that reason I will never abdicate and let you take my place. I will become Queen for no other reason than to keep you from the throne, Alex. You can't be trusted. The little power you do have has made you greedy."
"The little power I have? I am one of only four people in the world who know how to tap into ancient magic."
"It's not something to be taken lightly," Hermione cautions, and it's an old argument they've had many times before. The words feel overused to the point where they have lost any meaning, but she has to try. She won't give up on him, not now, not ever. "Magic can corrupt far too easily, and a force as strong as what we have needs to be handled with a gentle touch."
"You're just a fucking coward," he spits, dropping his wand from her face as he shakes his head. "You're worthless, and weak, and pathetic, and you disgust me. You are the heir of this family, heir of Atlantis, heir of the fucking world, and you don't deserve any of it. It should have been me!" He lashes out, the echo of his palm against her cheek shocking her so much that she remains quiet, slumping to the ground with her back against the wall as he turns away from her.
She watches in shock as he leaves, strangely relieved that he hasn't actually thrown any unforgivable curses her way. It's the first time they have ever come to blows like this - magical or physical - and he has walked away under the impression that he beat her in their impromptu but vicious duel. He couldn't be more wrong.
Hermione could have ended it and stopped him in his tracks, but at what cost? He is already threatened by her power, and at this point, he needs a victory to try and combat his crippling fear of being second best.
She is not arrogant, but Hermione knows how skilled she is. Magic has always come so easily to her, as natural as breathing it flows from her in abundance. The same is not true of Alex. Each new lesson has been a struggle, and they've been tutored separately for as many years as Hermione can remember, so that he doesn't hold her back from truly mastering her unique abilities.
She stares at the door that closed behind his departure, wondering who this man is. No longer children, they each have a responsibility to their people. Up until now, she has always assumed Alex takes it as seriously as she does. Today, for the first time, she felt a slither of fear when staring into familiar brown eyes. They have never looked so cold.
The memory fades, and Hermione knows better than to expect any reprieve before hurtling into the next one.
It's been a long night. Hermione has spent her hours of darkness looking after both Pansy and Rose, who have succumbed to the same illness, no doubt picked up on their latest trip to Port Ignis. Even in her exhausted, sleep-deprived state, Hermione would recognise the extra voice in her brother's wing as she walks past his door, an involuntary shudder running down her spine.
She hovers by the door, her suspicions confirmed when she hears the chilling laughter of Cormac McClaggen, President of Port Solis. Unable to stop herself, she bursts into her brother's living room, anger vibrating from every pore.
"What is he doing here?" she demands, refusing to look at the man sitting opposite her brother.
Alex grins at her smugly. "We had some business to discuss, Emma. Now, why don't you run along, and leave the grown ups to talk."
She doesn't bother with a reminder that she is older than him, it's been a bone of contention their entire lives. "What could you possibly have to discuss with him? You know what he is doing to Mum and Dad. He's caused nothing but trouble for us, for years now."
"Still so spirited, I see," Cormac comments, and for some reason, he looks pleased in a way that makes her feel cold. Especially when he smirks at her brother, who raises a glass of wine in his direction.
Hermione ignores him, but it's difficult not to feel a ripple of fear at her brother's laugh. "She's easily tamed, I'm sure," Alex tells the President in what sounds frighteningly like a promise that Hermione doesn't quite understand.
"This meeting is over, and it's over now," Hermione tells them, finally turning to Cormac for the first time since she entered the room. "And you are not welcome here. Not in our home and not on Port Ventus. I will give you one hour to get to the port and leave, or you will face the consequences."
She lazily upturns her hand, white magic dancing over her palm. His eyes widen, and he hastily gets to his feet.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Alex. This meeting has been most… helpful. I will see to it that you are provided with the contacts you have requested, and in return? Well, everything we discussed. It's been a pleasure doing business with you."
"Likewise, Cormac," Alex replies like he is an old friend, and not the most feared political leader of the modern world.
Hermione watches them shake hands, and Cormac leaves without a backward glance. Alex turns to her, eyes glittering dangerously. "You will come to regret many things in life, Emma, but nothing more than making me your enemy. Now, get out."
She wouldn't normally take an order like that from her brother, but there is something in his eyes that she doesn't like and she makes her escape, heading back to her own wing where the safety of Pansy's arms are waiting for her.
The memory tails off and Hermione finds herself back on Narcissa's bed, being held by the blonde witch. Tears streaming down her face, her thoughts are jumbled as she speaks the only words she can find.
"I have a brother."
She feels rather than sees Narcissa nod against her. "You have a brother."
"That was the last time I saw him," Hermione realises, sitting up and pulling back so she can see the witch. "I wasn't there the day he left, but I know it was ugly. Things were said, threatened, and then it wasn't long before Cormac proposed to me. We refused, of course, and our family decided it was time to leave rather than put our people in danger of the war he was holding over our heads. You know what happened next."
Narcissa hugs her, a silent reminder that she isn't alone. Her parents and Pansy might have died soon after that day, but Hermione has a family now, found in the most unlikely of places but nonetheless true for that fact.
Hermione lets herself be held, taking quiet comfort in the way that Narcissa's arms wrap around her. It's maternal in nature, and she can imagine that Draco would have been held in much the same way when he was growing up and in need of solace.
They sit there in silence, Narcissa allowing her space to gather her thoughts until Hermione is ready to talk about what they have seen. She feels bonded to Narcissa after so many excursions into her mind together, and the witch feels safe to her, a port in a storm that Hermione is incredibly grateful for.
"We need to tell the others," Narcissa eventually murmurs, breaking their quiet moment.
"I know," Hermione agrees reluctantly. "Can we do it here?"
Narcissa seems to understand her desire not to leave this cocoon they have developed, and picks up her wand, summoning both her sisters with a Patronus.
Bellatrix bursts through the door. "Well?" she demands, looking between them.
Hermione giggles. Her entry is just so… Bella. She smiles, welcoming the witch up onto the bed next to her as Narcissa moves to the chair.
"We're done," Narcissa confirms, smiling at them both fondly when Bellatrix pulls Hermione into her arms, kissing her temple affectionately.
Andromeda opens the door next, and Hermione grins at Narcissa when they hear her first word. "Well?" Andromeda demands.
"We've discovered quite a lot," Narcissa begins, a small frown forming on her forehead. "Though I am not sure how much of it is relevant. We do know more about Hermione's capabilities, though."
"I have a brother," Hermione informs them more calmly than she feels. "My twin, actually."
"Why did they hide that so deeply?" Andromeda muses. "Why would they hide that from Hermione?"
"Not them, it was Hermione. She's the one who buried it all," Narcissa corrects her sister.
Bellatrix's arms wrap around her more tightly, and Hermione knows in that moment that Bellatrix understands why she would have done such a thing, even before the youngest Black sister continues her explanation.
"Hermione had a twin, but he walked out on them all and never came back. She hasn't seen him since. I believe that Hermione protected herself from the hurt and pain that losing him caused, her memories already affected by the magic they used to Obliviate her. Plainly put, she used their magic to tuck this down a little deeper than everything else. Her magic piggybacked on to their Obliviation spell, in a way."
"And her magical skills?" Andromeda asks curiously. "Did you learn any more?"
"I'm… powerful, I guess?" Hermione admits sheepishly. "I remember everything now. The spells, the endless training… How to fight."
"Powerful?" Narcissa scoffs. "Darling, you are magnificent. I have seen no one in all my years at sea that could even hope to match you in a duel. She could take all three of us on, blindfolded and wandless."
Bellatrix lets out a low whistle. "She's that good?"
"She's that good, Bella," Narcissa replies. "She's truly a marvel."
"Nothing we didn't already know," Andromeda adds with a wink in Hermione's direction.
Feeling her cheeks get warm, Hermione ducks her head, raising a hand over her mouth to cover a yawn.
"You should rest," Narcissa tells her kindly. "What we've just done would exhaust anyone."
Hermione stubbornly shakes her head, allowing a grin to pull up the corners of her lips. "No. I don't need rest," she refutes, jumping lightly off the bed. "What I really need to do is fight. I need to get some practice in before I have to deal with Riddle."
"You want to duel, Pet?" Bellatrix queries, her amusement clear.
"Yes!"
-xXx-
They've taken as many precautions as possible, without draining themselves by using too much unnecessary magic. The sails are now flameproof and the mast is re-enforced against damage spells. The hull of the ship itself is protected by its own ancient magic from a thousand years ago, and protected against both magical and physical assault.
Bellatrix sits this round out, happy to watch from the wheel as Hermione faces off against Andromeda, Narcissa and Neville; her very own prodigy. The quiet and unassuming man, who prefers the company of his plants to people, is an extremely competent duellist. Bellatrix will never admit it, of course, but he's come close to besting her a few times now, and it was only the last minute cast of something he wasn't expecting her to use that saved her pride.
Hermione has never looked so fierce. It suits her, though, Bellatrix muses. Her eyes blazing with energy, she's laser focused on the three witches and wizards in front of her, wielding her wand like it is more than a weapon. Like it is an extension of herself. It's something that is rarely seen even by older wizards, and it's easy to see that she has spent her entire life being trained.
Bellatrix is mesmerised by the beauty of the spells that Hermione conjures. Reds, blues, yellows, purples… and a colour that she's entirely sure has never been seen with the naked human eye before.
She's beautiful. Bellatrix sighs wistfully. Hermione has been through so much, and yet, despite the scars she carries both inside and out, she has come through it with grace; a quiet strength and confidence that not many have. She's good, really good at duelling, and yet she stays humble. Not once does Bellatrix see her make a mistake where she has allowed arrogance to cloud her focus.
"Bella, come and join us," Andromeda pants out, not taking her eyes off of the young witch in front of her who is laughing joyfully as she bounces back and forth, impossibly light on her toes.
"You don't need me," Bellatrix calls back with a cackle. "There's only one of her, and three of you." That said, Bellatrix has her wand in her hand, clicking her fingers to get Draco's attention. He relieves her of the wheel, and she hops down onto the main deck, a grin on her face as she joins her sisters and Neville.
Hermione smirks at her, eyes narrowing playfully. "It's on, Bella. Don't hold back."
Bellatrix snorts, swiftly manoeuvring her body into battle stance; knees bent, core tight and her wand arm curved over her head. Determined to get the upper hand, she chooses not to reply, firing off three rapid spells on what she assumes will be Hermione's weaker side. The younger witch just laughs, swatting them away with a flick of her wrist that's barely visible.
"You can do better than that," Hermione taunts, and Bellatrix wants to stop and kiss her, wrapping her arms around the witch whose eyes are sparkling like she's never witnessed before. Hermione is happy. She's enjoying this.
Instead, Bellatrix rattles off three more spells, timing them to fall in between her sisters' curses, but it's like they are throwing wisps of smoke Hermione's way, for all the impact they have. Bellatrix has fought many witches and wizards over the years, but this is the first time she's really felt like she is facing off against an equal.
No. Not an equal. There is nothing equal about this, at all. Hermione is so far beyond the capabilities of the four best duellists on the ship, that she's completely unphased by the barrage of spells that are sent her way.
They spend a few minutes volleying spells back and forth, but then Hermione cackles. "Okay. Now we're warmed up, it's time to really play."
This is warming up? Bellatrix actually loses her breath when Hermione stops her defensive spell-work and begins to go on the offensive. She's throwing curses, hexes and jinxes at the four of them so quickly, that none of them can even attempt to send one back, far too busy protecting themselves against her onslaught. Most of the spells Bellatrix recognises, though they all have a signature to them that is distinctly Hermione. A flamboyance and ease that Bellatrix has never seen before, and a small part of her feels envious at just how little effort it takes for Hermione to keep them all at bay. She squashes that feeling down, reminding herself of what this is really about. The better Hermione is, the safer they all are, and now is not the time for a wounded pride.
They don't last long.
First Neville, followed quickly by Andromeda are brought to their knees, wrists bound by invisible ropes. Narcissa is quick to join them and only three seconds later, Bellatrix is bemused to find herself lying on her back staring up at dark, ominous clouds. She's not even sure how she has ended up like this, but her eyes are drawn by Hermione's giggle and she sees the hand being offered to her.
Hermione pulls her to her feet and wraps her arms around her, kissing her so enthusiastically, Bellatrix forgets everyone else on deck, completely lost in the moment. They are interrupted by a loud whistle that can only have come from Ron, and she pulls away.
Bellatrix rolls her eyes at the redhead, keeping an arm around Hermione's waist as the others walk up to join them.
"I enjoyed that," Hermione announces gleefully, but again, the arrogance that could be there in light of her skill is entirely missing. In its place is sheer joy and a playful exuberance that has them all smiling. "It's been a long time since I got to let loose like that. Thank you, everyone," she tells them sincerely.
It's easy to see at times like this, just how much her sisters care for the young witch, both of them pulling Hermione into their arms for a hug. It's equally as clear just how much Hermione cares about both of them. There is no hesitation in the way she responds, and the smile she gives both Narcissa and Andromeda is so warm and full of love that Bellatrix feels her heart actually skip a beat watching them all.
Hermione has given them all something that none of them knew they were missing. She has unique relationships with all three sisters, and now, none of them would be the same without her.
Bellatrix looks up to the skies when she feels cool droplets landing on her skin. "Thought we were outrunning the storm?"
Anathema shrugs. "We're nearing Port Fulgar. You know what it's like! Miss one, and you run straight into another."
"True," Bellatrix agrees with a nod. "Any news on Riddle, Ana?"
"Still just keeping his distance. He'll time it carefully, you know he will."
"And we'll be waiting," Hermione cuts in solemnly, her tone completely belying the excitement Bellatrix can see in her eyes. "But first, I need to go and spend some time with my daughter."
With a quick parting kiss, Bellatrix watches Hermione wander off below deck. For all her confidence, it's clear why Hermione has chosen to go and see Rose. No matter how capable the witch is, Riddle cannot be trusted, and he always has a trick up his sleeve, or a surprise to pull out the bag. They are all aware that if this goes wrong, it could be the last fight they ever take part in.
"Any last minute preparation needed?" Bellatrix asks. Eyes scanning the deck, she's pleased to see that everything has been cleared away.
"No," Narcissa replies. "We're ready.
-xXx-
Hermione sits next to Rose on the bed in Bellatrix's cabin, already expecting the question before Rose speaks.
"But why? I can help!"
Hermione gazes at her daughter affectionately, moved by her determination to help. Rose will be a talented witch one day, but she's too young and doesn't even have a wand yet. When Narcissa returned Rose's memories, it became clear that Rose can be quite adept at wandless magic, but it's erratic at best, and could be dangerous at worst. Still, Hermione is not about to knock her daughter's confidence.
"I don't want you up on deck, Rose, because there is something more important for you to do. You're needed down here, okay?"
Rose looks at her dubiously, arms crossing in front of her chest. "For what?"
"Luna needs to stay below deck out of danger. She will be using her skills to make sure that we can find our way out of this. She will be our eyes and will tell us which direction to go in once this is over, so we don't just sail into more danger," Hermione informs her daughter seriously, pausing for a moment until Rose huffs impatiently. "I need you to help her, okay? If she is busy doing that for us, then she needs your assistance. You can protect her down here, and help her in any way that you can."
Rose puffs her chest out, and it's adorable how seriously Hermione can see her taking her new responsibilities.
"I will, Mum. I'll do anything she asks."
"Good girl." Hermione tickles her sides until Rose is giggling hysterically and squirming on the bed next to her. "And when this is all over, we're going to go and find Atlantis. We'll be surrounded by magical people, and all kinds of magical creatures."
"Unicorns?" Rose pipes up hopefully.
Hermione smiles gently. "Maybe. It's been a long time since we were last there, and the unicorn population was in decline back then."
"But we'll still all live together, won't we?"
It's not something Hermione has really thought about, yet she answers without hesitation. "Of course we will. You still remember the palace there, don't you? There is plenty of room for everyone should they want to live with us."
Rose hugs her tightly "Good."
A knock at the door breaks up their moment of peace and Hermione calls for them to enter, smiling when Luna peers into the room.
"Bellatrix said I could use her cabin," she explains unnecessarily.
"No problem. I am needed up on deck, anyway," Hermione replies grimly, forcing herself to smile at Rose when her daughter catches her serious tone. "I'll leave you here with Rose."
"I'm going to be your assistant," Rose tells Luna proudly.
"And there is no better assistant in the world," Luna replies, bopping Rose on the nose.
Hermione grins, heart full of love for the friendship that has sprung up between them. "I'll leave you to it, then."
Rose darts forward to hug her one last time, wiggling when it's Hermione that doesn't want to let go. With a kiss to her daughter's forehead, she leaves the room and walks back up on deck.
She's just in time.
In the distance, but gaining rapidly, she can see a huge ship sailing towards them, and it could not be more different to The Black Serpent. Bellatrix's ship is all warm wood, and curving architecture, a beautifully crafted vessel that has no rival. Tom Riddles' ship, The Voldemort, is made of metal; sharp edges glinting in the strong sunlight that peeks through the clouds above.
It all happens so fast and as expected, Riddle times it perfectly. Just as both ships sail into what is the dead zone for every other witch apart from Hermione, he drops his sails, ready for battle.
Hermione stands tall, eyeing the ship impassively. Unsure of which weapons are the new additions, she realises it doesn't matter. It's not difficult to see that they are seriously outgunned without their magic. For the first time, the pressure to get them through this feels like a lead weight, and Hermione has to force herself to walk across the deck to where the rest of the crew are waiting.
To everyone's surprise, Riddle holds back, and Bellatrix orders for them to hold their own fire. Instead, the other ship is brought close under the power of their motors, until they are side by side in the water and Hermione gets her first look at the man who taught Bellatrix this life all those years ago.
Riddle appears to scan the crew until his eyes meet Hermione's, and then he smirks. "Princess Emma," he acknowledges in a whispery voice that sends goosebumps racing across her skin. "I've heard so much about you over the last few years."
"You have?" Hermione can't help but ask. She was reported as missing, presumed dead five years ago, so who would be talking about her at all, let alone after all this time?
The crew of the other ship parts, and a man in black wizarding robes steps forwards. Hermione can't help but move closer to the other ship, drawn in by familiar brown eyes that are exactly the same shade as her own.
Her suspicions are confirmed when he closes the gap as much as he can, leaning casually up against the railings of The Voldemort.
"Hello, Emma. Did you miss me?"
Alex.
Here, in the middle of the ocean after all these years, she finally comes face to face with her brother, and from the expression on his face, this will not be a happy family reunion.