I'm so sorry this was a day late - life totally got in the way!

Enjoy xx

-xXx-

Hermione hesitantly knocks on the door. She's not been in the youngest Black sister's quarters yet, and Ginny hadn't known why she was being summoned when she had informed her the blonde had requested her presence.

"Come in, Hermione," Andromeda's voice answers, rather than Narcissa's.

She pushes the door open. Narcissa's quarters could not be more different to the Captain's. Bellatrix prefers warm wood with a simple clear varnish that leaves the grain of the wood on show. Narcissa, it seems, has a liking for dark wood and heavy fabrics like forest green velvet. She can't help wondering about Andromeda's cabin. All three sisters are so alike, and yet could not be more different.

"You wanted to see me?" Hermione broaches, taking a seat when Andromeda gestures for her to sit down.

"Just a check up," Andromeda reassures her, picking up her wand and casting a diagnostic spell Hermione is fully familiar with now. Hermione stays quiet and lets the witch work, eyes wandering around the oddly comforting cabin. Narcissa is sitting on the bed next to her sister, reclining back on her hands, and watching her sister work with a fond smile.

Dropping her wand, Andromeda nods. "Everything looks fine. How are you feeling now?"

"Hazy," Hermione doesn't hesitate to answer. "It's frustrating that I can't remember, but I know there is something there that I need to."

"Well. Now Andy has given you a clean bill of health, I can have a look and we can get to the bottom of this mystery." Narcissa picks up her wand, poised to cast the spell, but Hermione holds out her hands.

"Wait!"

Narcissa lowers her wand, a questioning brow raised. "What's wrong?"

"I'm… I'm not ready. I want to know, I do, but please, can we wait?"

"Not ready? It's a completely harmless procedure," Narcissa assures her, fingers twitching on her wand impatiently.

"No. I'm not ready," Hermione states more firmly. "Please?"

"What's stopping you?" Andromeda asks gently.

Hermione shakes her head. "I don't know. It was magic that did this to me. What if something goes wrong and I lose even more memories?"

"Cissa is extremely skilled at what she does," Andromeda says with a small smile at her sister. "There is no one better, Love."

"I know. And I do trust you. Both of you…"

"But?" Narcissa urges.

"But I'm not ready. I don't know why, okay? But do I have to do it right now?"

Hermione can hear the panic in her own voice, her heart thudding heavily against her ribs. She tries to smile at the two sisters, unwilling to say more because the lump in her throat will make it almost impossible to speak.

"We don't have to do it today," Narcissa starts reluctantly. "But soon, Hermione. You can't run away from this forever."

"I'm not running away," Hermione replies automatically. Stubbornly.

"Aren't you?" Narcissa asks softly, but her tone is free from judgement, and Hermione's eyes begin to burn tellingly.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. I said I'd help Harry," Hermione improvises on the spot, desperate to leave so she doesn't have to face the concerned look of the witches in front of her.

"That's fine," Andromeda says, raising a hand to stop her when Hermione gets up to leave. "But I want you to do something for me."

"What?"

"Go up on deck for a while once you're done with Harry. Take a moment to relax, okay? Lay back on one of the folded up sails on deck, and just take a moment to really think."

"About what?"

"About why you don't want to know," Narcissa takes over, perfectly in sync with her sister's thoughts. "Be honest with yourself, and take a few minutes to work out what frightens you so much about knowing."

"I'm not scared." Hermione gets to her feet, raising her chin as she glares at them.

Neither one of them is bothered by her display, both wearing the same patient smile.

Narcissa nods. "Just give it some thought, Darling."

"Fine," Hermione mumbles, making her escape. She scurries out and along the corridor, heading towards the common room, where Rose is sitting with Luna, playing a card game. She turns into the galley where Harry is waiting. She may as well offer him some help, considering that's what she told Narcissa and Andromeda.

"Hey, Hermione. You hungry?" Harry frowns, his eyes scanning her face with concern. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, and no, I'm not hungry. I came to help, actually."

Harry's face breaks into a wide smile. "Well, that's a welcome change. This lot are bloody useless. Can you cook?"

"Yes," she replies, unable to hide the pride in her voice. Cormac had stopped her from doing many of the things she enjoys, but even a catering service pales in comparison to what Hermione can do in the kitchen, and when he had people to impress, he'd wanted nothing but the best. So for once, that meant that Hermione got to do something she enjoyed.

"Well, let's see what you can do then," Harry suggests kindly, pulling down an extra chopping board and handing her a long, heavy knife. "Have a look in the cool store at what we've got, and the pantry is pretty well stocked at the moment, so you should find everything you need. What would you suggest?"

Hermione feels a spark of excitement as she makes a mental catalogue of everything she finds, skimming through recipes in her head until she settles on the perfect thing.

"How about a warm dill and lemon white bean salad with crushed sweet potatoes and grilled broccoli and asparagus? It's Mum's family recipe, passed down through at least five generations I think," Hermione informs him, before frowning, not sure why she has said that. She can't remember ever making this dish with her mother, so how does she know it's her mother's recipe?

Harry doesn't seem to notice her momentary confusion. "That sounds perfect, and the crew will appreciate a change, I'm sure. I'll be your assistant, so put me to work."

It takes nearly an hour to prepare all the ingredients for so many people, even before they start to cook, and Hermione regards Harry with a new found respect. "You do all this by hand without help?" she asks. "Three times a day?"

His eyes meet hers, but his hands never still, effortlessly chopping spring onions on his board. "I could use magic, but I'd rather do it by hand. It tastes better, and it was how I was trained. Besides, how else would I fill my days?"

"I think I prefer things to be done by hand," Hermione admits quietly. "This magic stuff is a little overwhelming."

Harry nods. "I understand, more than you know."

"What do you mean?"

Harry puts the last of the ingredients into a large bowl, and then turns around to lean against the counter next to her. "My parents died when I was a baby, and I grew up with muggle relatives. Strange things happened around me growing up, but my aunt and uncle always had an explanation for it, you know? It was only after I met Draco that I realised I had magic."

"How did you find out?"

Harry chuckles. "Well, I didn't sink my ex's ship, that's for sure." He grins at her then, gently nudging her ribs with his elbow. "It wasn't anywhere near that exciting or dramatic. No, I picked up Draco's wand one day, and I nearly set fire to the common room."

Hermione laughs. "And you're comfortable using magic now?"

"Not all the time," Harry admits, rubbing the back of his neck. "But it's certainly useful. It's an automatic feeling to reach for my wand now, and it will be for you, too."

Hermione picks up another lemon and rolls it against the board, before slicing it in half and squeezing it into the dressing. "Bellatrix is going to take me to get a wand at Port Ventus."

"Ollivander's?" he asks, continuing when Hermione bobs her head. "He's the best in the business, these days. You'll be paired with the perfect wand, I guarantee it. Rose too, when she's a little older. There is no doubt that girl has magical blood in her veins."

"Bellatrix said as much, but wants Rose to be eleven before she gets her wand, as per tradition. So it's just me, today, and then I'll need to learn how to use it so I don't accidentally blow something up, or set fire to the ship," Hermione says wryly.

"Let Bellatrix teach you," Harry suggests. "She's better than any of us, and something tells me you might just enjoy it." He winks at her then, and Hermione feels her face heat up.

"Shut up," she grumbles, unable to hide her grin.

-xXx-

"Andy, Cissa, you can take a night on shore, if you want? I'll take Hermione to get a wand, but we'll be back in a couple of hours. If you don't mind waiting on board until then, the rest of the night is your own," Bellatrix informs her sisters.

"Trying to get rid of us?" Andromeda teases. "Desperate to be alone with your little witch?"

"Don't push her, Bella," Narcissa warns seriously. "Try and get her to open up by all means, but don't push her too hard. Whatever her reasons are for not wanting to remember her past, she needs to work it out for herself, and not under pressure from you."

Bellatrix rolls her eyes. "What do you take me for?"

"You're impatient," Andromeda tells her with a grin.

"And overbearing at the best of times," Narcissa cuts in, adding, "with the tact and subtlety of a sledgehammer."

"Nice to know you think so highly of me," Bellatrix mutters.

"Just… be patient," Andromeda scolds lightly.

"I will," Bellatrix replies sincerely. "Back soon."

She strides across the wooden deck to where Hermione is waiting, and does a double take. Her hair is shorter now - courtesy of Draco, she assumes - the style asymmetric with one side trimmed close to her skull. She's wearing skinny black jeans, black boots and a cropped black t-shirt that reveals a tantalising strip of flesh around her middle. The young woman looks like she belongs. Like she has grown up on The Black Serpent, spending her entire life at sea amongst the crew.

"Wow, Hermione. You look amazing," Bellatrix says honestly, stopping a few feet away, just so she can drag her eyes more slowly up and down the woman in front of her.

"Thank you," Hermione replies shyly, one hand coming up to fuss with the short hair on the left side of her head. "It's not… too much?"

"It's perfect. You're perfect," Bellatrix replies, licking her lips slowly. It's an obvious gesture, far too obvious really, but the faint tinge of pink that lights up Hermione's cheeks makes it worth it.

They both jump down onto the deck below, and again, Bellatrix watches with pride as Hermione lands lightly on her feet, perfectly at balance. In a gallant gesture that takes them both by surprise, Bellatrix offers her arm, which is taken with a shy smile but no hesitation.

"Cissa tells me that you don't want her to use her Legilimency skills," Bellatrix asks quietly, not wanting to disturb the comfortable peace that has developed between them, but desperately seeking answers none the less.

Hermione scowls, dropping her arm. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You need to know. We all do, Hermione. You can't run from this."

Bellatrix stops walking when she realises Hermione has come to a halt. "What?" she asks.

"Do you really think that I've not heard all of this from both of your sisters already?"

Hermione's arms are folded defiantly in front of her chest, and Bellatrix knows she shouldn't find her as adorable as she does. Hermione would probably be mortified to know that she isn't as intimidating as she thinks she is. Schooling her face into a solemn expression, Bellatrix steps closer, cupping her cheek.

"I know my sisters will have said the same thing. What you have to remember is that they said it for the same reason I did. We all care about you, and this is a huge mystery in your life. How can you be happy not knowing?"

Hermione drops her arms back down to her sides and shrugs, looking so lost that Bellatrix wants to reach out and hug her.

"I know I need to know, but do you ever just have a 'feeling' about something, Bellatrix? Like, you don't know what it is, but you know that you're going to find out something that you don't want to know? Or that will hurt you? I can't explain it, but I just know that nothing I find out will be good."

"But will you really be happier not knowing at all?" Bellatrix pushes, albeit gently; Narcissa's warning playing in her head. "These things have a habit of eating you alive if you let them. It's better to face things head on, and when you know what you are dealing with, you can move on. Move past it."

"Can you just sto- Oh! Look!"

Bellatrix follows where Hermione is staring, her eyes fixed on an orange ball of fluff that is running towards them at full speed. The cat swerves Bellatrix, and jumps straight up into Hermione's arms, rubbing its pink nose against her cheek.

"It likes you," Bellatrix comments with a grin. "I can't say I blame it."

"Hey there, pretty little thing," Hermione coos quietly, rubbing her cheek against the soft fur.

"Great. Now I'm jealous of a fucking cat," Bellatrix mutters under her breath.

Hermione looks up, eyes sparkling. "You're pretty too, Captain."

Bellatrix rolls her eyes, reaching out to stroke the cat's head. It shies away from her hand, hissing slightly as it tucks itself further into Hermione's arms.

The young witch chuckles. "I don't think it likes you."

Ignoring her, she gestures up ahead. "Shall we go? Ollivander shuts his shop over lunch time and we don't want to miss it."

"Awww time to say goodbye, now," Hermione murmurs to the cat, kissing the top of its head and setting it gently on the floor. It meows loudly in protest, drawing another chuckle from Hermione. "I'll give you another cuddle on the way back, I promise."

It only takes a few steps to realise that the cat is not going to leave them anytime soon, and by the time both Bellatrix and Hermione have nearly trodden on it, it becomes obvious that the easiest option is for Hermione to pick it up and give it the attention that it so clearly wants.

"Don't get attached," Bellatrix warns sternly. "I don't have room for free-loaders."

"Awww poor baby. Don't listen to the mean Captain. You're not a free-loader, are you my sweet thing? No. You're such a good cat, aren't you? I can tell."

As they meander down a narrow street leading away from the harbourside, Bellatrix listens to Hermione talking away to their new companion as though it understands every word that she is saying. Judging by the tilt of its head and the way it meows at the perfect time, Bellatrix wonders at the possibility it might.

"Here we are," she announces, stopping in front of a shop with small panes of glass making up a large bay window. "Put your new friend down now."

Hermione nods, placing the ginger cat down on the ground. "I'll be back in a minute, okay?"

The cat squawks loudly, circling their feet. When Bellatrix opens the door, it darts inside before she can block its path. "Sorry," she calls to the bemused man walking towards them. "I don't know where it came from, but it's taken a shine to my latest crew member."

Ollivander comes to a stop, mouth hanging open. "Emma?"

Bellatrix follows his gaze, fixed on the witch standing just inside the door. "No, not Emma. Her name's Hermione."

"My mistake," he replies smoothly. "What can I help you with today?"

"Hermione is in need of a wand. Can you help her?"

"But of course." He beckons for Hermione to move closer, apprehension clear on her face as she steps up to the counter. "I'll be back in a moment." He leaves them in the shop, the sound of drawers being opened and closed reaching them from the back room.

"What's he doing?" Hermione hisses.

"Finding a wand that he thinks might be suitable."

"Aren't they all the same?"

"The wand chooses the witch, Miss Hermione," Ollivander interrupts, joining them again. He places two boxes on the counter, and removes the lid of the first one. "Try this one."

"What do I do?"

"Give it a wave," Bellatrix instructs, swishing her hand through the air to demonstrate.

Hermione furrows her brow, and flicks the wand, jumping back a step when the drawers on the opposite wall fly open, spilling their contents all over the floor. The cat lets out a loud howl and hides behind her legs.

"Perhaps not," Ollivander states calmly, pushing the second box toward her. "Try this one."

Hermione is more cautious picking this one up, and gives it an experimental swish. When a vase explodes, she puts it down hastily. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Not to worry," Ollivander reassures her, his eyes roving over her with intense scrutiny. "I wonder…"

Without another word he scuttles off to the back room, the sound of drawers being frantically opened and closed reaching their ears once more. When he returns, he holds a box in his hand as though it is something precious. He places it reverently on the counter, keeping his hand on top.

"You really do look rather… familiar…" he trails off, brow furrowing.

"I'm not from around here," Hermione replies impatiently, reaching for the box.

"Hmmm." He doesn't say any more, finally removing the lid and pushing the box toward her.

The air changes in a second, the moment that Hermione's fingers touch the dark wood. Hair blown back, the room glows in a warm light. "It's humming," she exclaims in awe. "It's vibrating in my hand."

"Curious. Very curious," Ollivander whispers under his breath.

"I'm sorry, but what's curious?" Hermione asks.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Miss Hermione. The core of the wand you hold in your hand belongs to the last ever griffin we saw in Britain. Two feathers were acquired from it, and as such, became the core of two different wands. One you hold in your hand, and the other… the other belonged to the princess."

"Why is that curious?" Hermione wonders.

"Because a wand made of griffin core is notoriously difficult to pair with a witch, Miss Hermione. They show a loyalty and allegiance to family bloodlines, like no other. That this wand chose you, and its twin chose the princess, is curious indeed."

"Emma," Bellatrix ponders out loud. "The princess was called Emma, wasn't she? That's who you thought Hermione was when we walked in?"

"The likeness is striking, is it not?" Ollivander replies, gesturing to the young witch's face. "And she used to travel with a half kneazle familiar, too."

"What's a kneazle?" Hermione asks, and Bellatrix feels a pang of sympathy for the confusion on her face.

"The cat that has taken a liking to you, also bears a strong resemblance to the half kneazle cat that followed the princess wherever she went," Ollivander clarifies, but Bellatrix is left with more questions. Before she can ask, Hermione has a query of her own.

"There is no monarchy, only governmental bodies," she states, eyes darting between Ollivander and Bellatrix. "The last royal bloodline died out years ago."

"The last royal bloodline was assassinated just off of these shores," Ollivander informs her with a frown. "It was a poorly kept secret that they had fallen foul of the government in Port Solis and were on the brink of war."

"That was years ago," Bellatrix interrupts, when it becomes obvious Hermione is going to stay silent.

"Only five in fact, but in an ever-changing world, I find memories are… short," Ollivander counters.

"Right. Five years," Bellatrix nods, looking again at Hermione, who is looking increasingly uncomfortable. The half kneazle meows loudly and Hermione picks it up. It's a gesture born of familiarity, like she has done this a hundred times before, and the wheels start turning in Belaltrix's mind. She needs to get Hermione back to the ship, and she needs to talk to her sisters about this. It's obvious there is more to Hermione than any of them know. Her resemblance to Princess Emma can't be a coincidence, can it? "How much do we owe you?" is all she says to the shopkeeper.

"It's on the house," he offers with a small smile and a full-body twitch Bellatrix assumes is meant to be a bow.

"Thank you," Bellatrix replies, already guiding Hermione and her cat to the door. "Bye."

Outside in the warmth of the sunlight, she can see that Hermione is pale, and her eyes glazed over. "Are you okay?"

"I..I don't really understand what happened in there," Hermione admits, her eyes searching Bellatrix's for answers.

"Neither do I, but if you let Cissa help you, then I'm sure we can make sense of it all."

They start walking towards the ship, Hermione pulling the cat closer to her. "I'm not ready. Please don't make me do this, yet?"

Bellatrix sighs. "Look. Put the cat down, and let's get back to the ship. We can talk about it there."

"I can't leave Crookshanks!"

They both stop and stare at each other.

"Who?" Bellatrix asks gently.

Hermione shakes her head, her face paling considerably. "I don't know why, but I just feel like he is a Crookshanks. It suits him, don't you think?"

Considering neither of them had even known if he was a male or female cat, this information is doubly surprising, but not as surprising as the name that has sprung from Hermione's lips. It's not the first half kneazle Bellatrix has known of to be called Crookshanks, not that she plans on overwhelming Hermione with this information just yet.

"It suits him," she replies softly, shaking her head with a fond smile as the cat purrs loudly. "And you're keeping him. I can see you've already decided." Bellatrix gives her a small smile, and Hermione returns it with one twice as bright.

"Can I? Can I really keep him?" she asks Bellatrix, before looking the cat in the eye. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, Crookshanks?"

The cat purrs even more loudly, and licks her cheek.

Withholding a sigh, Bellatrix accepts that they won't be separated. "We'll have to pick him up a litter tray, and some suitable food. But yes, Hermione. You can keep him."

Crookshanks hisses when he is suddenly crushed between them, Hermione's lips pressing against her cheek. "Thank you, Bellatrix. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I guess we better go shopping then."

Bellatrix rolls her eyes when Crookshanks gives her a smug look, as if he knows he has won a battle Bellatrix isn't even fighting.

-xXx-

"What is it with you?" Ginny asks, a wide grin on her face as she stalks across the deck.

Hermione looks up from her vantage point, sprawled out on a folded sail on the bow of the ship. The sun is setting and the heat has calmed enough to enjoy the slight breeze up on deck.

"What do you mean?" she asks, hand idly stroking Crookshanks' fur, where he is curled up on her stomach.

"The crew are calling you the Pussy Whisperer," Ginny informs her, dramatically dropping her voice.

"They're calling- What?"

"The Pussy Whisperer," Ginny repeats, taking a seat next to her and reaching out to pet Crookshanks.

"Why would they be calling me that? Crooks is half kneazle."

"And half pussy," Ginny counters with a grin. "Not to mention all three Black sisters that you conveniently have wrapped around your little finger."

"That hardly makes me a… you know… pussy whisperer."

"All three of them have a cat Patronus, 'Mione. Not to mention this little ball of fluff which from all accounts adopted you the moment it saw you."

"He was lonely," Hermione defends. "He was just looking for someone to give him attention."

Ginny stares at her and Hermione squirms. "What?"

"He's half kneazle."

"Yes, I know." Hermione shrugs. "So what?"

"So they're not like normal cats. They're familiars, 'Mione, and they are notoriously difficult to win over. Don't get me wrong, once you do then you have a familiar for life, but it's hard work. They're really picky."

"Cats have always liked me," Hermione confides. "My cat-" Hermione stops talking. She's never had a cat, has she? Unsure where that thought has come from, she changes the subject. "Why didn't you go on shore with the others?"

"Want the truth?"

Hermione nods. "Obviously."

"They want me to talk to you. They think I might be able to convince you to let Narcissa help you."

Hermione closes her eyes, relaxing back into the sail. "I will. Eventually. Just not now."

There is silence for a moment and Hermione wonders if that will be the end of it, but Ginny is worse than the Black sisters in her doggedness.

"What happened on shore?" Ginny asks quietly. "The three of them were talking in the common room when I walked in, and I heard your name, but they went quiet and didn't say another word about it until I left."

"I don't know," Hermione replies honestly, opening her eyes. "I'm so confused about everything. I don't know who I am, I don't know what has happened to me, and I really don't know what the man who gave me this wand was saying."

"What did he say?"

"He called me by another name and said he recognised me."

Ginny's eyes widen. "He does? Well, out with it. Tell me everything!"

"I can't. I don't know anything else."

"You didn't ask him?" Ginny wonders.

Hermione shakes her head. "I couldn't, Gin. And then Bellatrix said goodbye and practically dragged me out of there, so the moment was gone."

"She knows something. More than she's letting on, anyway," Ginny guesses. "Did you talk to her about it on the way back?"

"I might have asked her not to talk about it," Hermione admits sheepishly, looking away.

"Listen, I know you're scared, but this is ridiculous. I mean, what can possibly be worse than not knowing? You might have family and friends out there that miss you, Hermione. Narcissa isn't sure that your 'parents' are even your real family.

Hermione raises an eyebrow, and Ginny's cheeks heat up. "I hear things, okay?"

"You're nosy."

"Yes," Ginny agrees, a smile tugging up the corners of her lips. "But that doesn't change anything. Stop being a fucking coward, Hermione. You're stronger than this."

"Am I?" she asks seriously, eyes searching the redhead's for any sign of deceit.

"For one, you're one of the most powerful witches I have met," Ginny starts, holding up a finger. She adds another one to it. "Two, you were brave enough to walk away from Cormac." She raises a third finger to group with the other, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"And three?" Hermione asks, already dreading the answer Ginny is about to give her, judging from the way her eyes are sparkling.

"Three, you were fearless enough to sleep with the Captain. I mean, there aren't many of us that would kick her out of bed, if you know what I mean, but none of us are stupid enough to actually try our luck."

Hermione smacks her arm. "Shut up. I've not slept with her. Not like that!"

"Yet." Ginny pokes out her tongue.

"Yet," Hermione echoes, unable to stop the smile growing on her face.

"Well, you don't want to go into a relationship with secrets, which is yet another reason why you should face this head on and go and see Narcissa."

"You're not going to let this drop, are you?"

"You know it's the right thing to do, 'Mione. No matter what happens, or what you find out, we'll all still be here for you."

"You don't know that, Gin. What if it's something awful? What if we find out something that means I can't stay here?"

"Is that what's worrying you?"

Hermione nods slowly. "I'm happy now and I don't want to lose that. After so many years of being miserable, I don't think I can say goodbye to this life now."

The redhead wraps her arms around her, hugging her close, ignoring the protest from Crookshanks. "I think I speak for all of us when I say there is absolutely nothing that you could find out that would change a damn thing."

"She's right," Bellatrix says from behind them. "Ginny, go and… well, just go."

Ginny jumps to her feet and scurries off with a backward wave. Hermione pats the sail, a silent invitation which Bellatrix takes, settling onto the coarse fabric next to her. The Captain reaches out to stroke Crookshanks, only to be swatted with a paw.

"The damn thing does not like me."

"He's just shy," Hermione defends automatically, stroking his fur.

Bellatrix snorts. "Sure he is."

"What can I do for you? I was in the middle of a conversation, you know."

"I know. But I wanted to reassure you about something. Ginny is right, Hermione. There is nothing that will change your place on this crew. If you want to be here, then it will always be your home. Nothing will stop that," Bellatrix promises.

"I don't want anything to change."

The Captain shrugs. "Change is a part of life. It doesn't have to be bad."

"I don't want things to change between us," Hermione clarifies. "I don't want you to see me any differently. What if I used to be a horrible person? What if I have done awful things?"

"Do you think you have?"

"I don't know. I just have a really bad feeling about this. I don't know why, but I do."

"That feeling is not going to go away, Little Witch. It's going to get worse the longer this goes on. I know you're nervous, but will you please come and see Cissa with me?"

"I thought she took shore leave?"

Bellatrix shakes her head, curls flying around her face. "Cissa and Andy stayed behind in the end, in case you needed them or changed your mind. You're more important to them than a night on shore."

"You're all too good to me," Hermione says bashfully.

"We love you," Bellatrix replies softly, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close.

"All of you? Even you?"

"Do you even have to ask?" Bellatrix questions, leaning forwards and connecting their lips chastely. It's brief, but warm, and reassuring in a way that words have failed to be.

"I'm scared, Bella."

"I know, Pet, but do it anyway. For me?"

Hermione slowly gets to her feet, holding out a hand for the Captain. "Let's do this. Let's go and see Narcissa."

She allows Bellatrix to guide them towards the stern, strolling across the deck in the evening sun. Before they can head down the stairs to Narcissa's cabin, Hermione stops and boldly pulls the Captain close. Wrapping her arms around Bellatrix's neck, she kisses her hungrily. She loses herself in the feel of soft lips and the contours of the warm body pressed into hers. They part, breathless, and Hermione giggles. "Okay. Now I'm really ready."