Harry Potter is owned by JKR
Chapter 61
Hermione looked up and realised Bellatrix had gone.
"Bella?" she asked.
"She left, about five minutes ago," the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black said as he pointed towards the door.
Hermione looked to McGonagall in alarm.
"She has not left the castle," the Headmistress replied calmly, "please bring her back. Although students are in bed, prefects still have rounds."
"Right," Hermione thought, "that might have unintended consequences…"
"But…" she said as she gestured to the plan-in-progress.
"Don't worry, we'll make sure to save some planning for you," Harry said with a wry grin.
Hermione couldn't help but smile in return. They'd made it through Voldemort, and they were all stronger for it. Surely they could meet this challenge as well, daunting though it was.
"And we have Bellatrix, too," she thought.
Hermione pushed past the remaining insistence to convince Harry to support repeal of the Statute and descended the spiral staircase past the stone gargoyle. On the way, she started coming up with a list of likely spots Bella might have gone to. The castle was huge, with numerous hidden nooks and crannies, so even with only a five-minute head start, it might be a monumental task. It wasn't until she reached the bottom that she recalled that Harry probably had the Maurauder's Map. As she exited into the darkened corridor though, before she turned around to hike back up the steps, she noticed a small flash of light from around a corner. Hermione walked in that direction, the echoes of her heels loud enough to her ears to wake the entire castle. Another soft burst of light reflected off the walls from somewhere out of sight.
"Looks like some kind of charmwork," she thought.
Around the corner, the hallway opened up to the grand staircase.
Bellatrix sat in the corner of the top step of the flight. Her dress had stopped transfiguring, or she had stopped it, in a long black form, with a few narrow slits revealing the contrasting cream coloured skin of her arms and legs beneath. As Bella's dress had stopped changing colour and form, so had Hermione's, though hers had ended up shorter, dark orange and red, with her knees and most of her arms exposed. A trio of glowing balls of white light bobbed and flitted about in the atrium in the centre of the staircase, and as Hermione watched, a beam of red light shot out from Bella's wand, and one of them winked out. She walked over and Bella lay her wand across her knees. Hermione sat down right next to Bellatrix, close enough their hips and thighs touched, and she immediately removed her heels to rest her tired feet on the cool stone of the step beneath them. Bellatrix hesitated for a second, then with an expression that said 'I should have thought of that' she followed suit, her painted nails several shades darker than Hermione's deep maroon.
"Well, that was some date," Bellatrix said.
"Yes. Can't say I'll ever forget this one," Hermione said, "what are you doing out here?"
"Target practise," Bellatrix said as she gestured to the pair of glowing balls floating in the space in front of them, "and I was wondering how he disguised himself for so long. Then I realised I was an idiot, because I did the exact same thing for almost a year, with a spell I found in the vault next to the Aevum."
Hermine's hand went to her arm, where the unbound transfiguration, recast after she'd removed it to aid in Bella's prison break, concealed her scars.
"Bet it's not even a Black spell," Bella muttered as she hit another floating orb of light, "probably his."
They sat in silence as the final orb floated about.
"Are you okay?" Hermione asked.
Bellatrix responded by opening her pouch and pulling out an apple and a small knife. Deftly, as if she'd done it a hundred times before, she sheared off a slice.
"Apple?" she asked as she held the blade and piece of fruit to Hermione.
"Bella," Hermione said as she ignored the offer. Bellatrix ate it straight off the knife.
"Hermione," she said as she chewed, mimicking her.
"I know it's a lot to take in," Hermione said.
Bellatrix paused mid-slice.
"I'm not some fragile porcelain doll," she said as she stared out at the grand staircase.
"I… don't think anyone would mistake you for fragile," Hermione said.
Bellatrix smirked.
"I'm a big girl, and I know how I feel," she said, "I don't need help."
Hermione sighed internally. She could be so difficult sometimes.
"I know, but sometimes a little help is good, even if you don't need it," Hermione said as she leaned over to touch shoulders, the fabric of Bella's dress rough against the naked flesh of her arm.
"Bellatrix Lestrange can't be vulnerable, but Julia can…" Hermione thought, "perhaps Julia White is what she might have been, had her circumstances been different."
Bella had insisted multiple times that Julia was the real her; she just had to break through the façade. The pureblood took a shuddering breath, and then they both jolted as the staircase detached and shifted, leaving nothing but open air at their back. Hermione slid down a step in alarm, but Bellatrix glanced over her shoulder and down, six stories to the ground. She looked to Hermione with a gleam in her eye.
"Think fast, catch my legs," she said, then threw her arms back and leaned, tipping like a teeter totter over the abyss.
Hermione gasped and lunged for Bella's shins, hands grasping for purchase as Bellatrix cackled wildly, her laughter echoing off the walls and staircases as the staircase swung around. Hermione managed to get her weight on Bella's legs and tip her back onto the steps, and down to safety, an exhilarated smile on her face.
"You… you!" Hermione said, but her breath caught as she made eye contact with Bella's silver-flecked Black eyes, then she was pulled roughly forward by the top of her dress, on top of Bellatrix, their lips locked together. An explosion of sensation lit like fiendfyre as Bellatrix writhed beneath her. Hermione's hands went down Bella's sides and around her waist as best they could. They lay on the steps as the staircase continued to move, and Bella's hands went around her back, searching, seeking.
"Looking for slits that aren't there," Hermione thought.
The staircase rumbled to a stop, and Hermione pulled back for a second to catch her breath. Bella panted beneath her, cheeks flushed, but her eyes were glassy, and she stared up at Hermione with raw emotion.
"I love her so much," Bella thought, "but it's Grindelwald… Dumbledore's equal. Not even the Dark Lord would duel him directly."
"Can't we just… leave all this behind?" she asked as she ran her fingers beneath Hermione's hair, around her ear.
Hermione closed her eyes for a second at the contact.
"What? With everything going on?" she asked.
Bellatrix nodded.
"But.. the Statute, I can't, not now," Hermione said, "what about all the people who could get hurt?"
Bella cupped her cheek with one hand.
"I honestly do not really care about them," Bellatrix said.
"You don't care if tens of thousands of people die?" Hermione asked.
"People die all the time," Bellatrix said, "I care if something happens to you."
Hermione paused at that for a second, as if acknowledging the sweet sentiment.
"And I care if something happens to my friends," she said, "if I could have saved them, but instead I ran away… how could I live with myself?"
"Of course. You should have thought about that Bella," Bellatrix thought, "Still, the only one thinking about what makes Hermione happy is me. Everyone else, Potter, Weasley, Winthrop… they're too caught up in themselves and only care about her when something's wrong, or when they need her for something."
Bellatrix took a shuddering breath. She knew she was right, but she also knew Hermione would react badly if she told her. She pulled her close for a kiss again, but this one was chaste; the moment had passed.
"There's something else," she said, "when I restored my memories."
They sat up again, thigh-to-thigh and hip-to-hip, close enough Bellatrix felt every movement in the other girl as she shifted slightly. Hermione laced her fingers, so much smaller and smoother than Rod's, with hers and rested their hands where their knees met.
"I didn't get just my memories," Bellatrix said, "after Dumbledore's explanation, I'm certain I also saw memories of the people who died as part of the ritual. I… don't remember them, exactly. I had to use occlumency to separate them from my own memories… I think I almost died, actually."
Hermione squeezed her fingers.
"I had no idea," she said quietly.
Bella looked down as Hermione lightly thumbed the small scar on her hand.
"You don't belong here, Bella," she thought, "you should be dead, and it's only through dumb luck and the murder of thousands of muggles you've got this second chance."
She squeezed Hermione's hand back.
"People," she thought, "the murder of thousands of people."
"I was out for almost a day, lost in those memories," Bellatrix said, "they're gone now, but I think I may have broken something, because I've felt a bit off ever since then, and this cold is simply not going away."
"You need to go to St. Mungo's, we both do," Hermione said.
Bellatrix shook her head.
"Nobody's going to poke around in my head," she said.
"What if it's serious? You have to go," Hermione said.
"I have to?" Bellatrix replied as she raised her eyebrow.
Hermione huffed.
"Don't be like that. You know I only want you to go because I care about you," Hermione said.
An ache filled her chest, and Bellatrix tamped down her chagrin and tried to think of what she would do if their roles were reversed.
"Probably hog-tie her and drop her on the floor of the hospital," she thought with a giggle, which only caused Hermione's eyebrows to draw even closer together.
"I thought you were clever. I can't let anyone see what's in here," Bellatrix said as she brought their hands up to tap a knuckle against her forehead, "or they'll throw me back in Azkaban."
Realisation dawned on Hermione's face.
"That's the reason?" she asked.
"That and I don't particularly want to," Bellatrix muttered, but Hermione wasn't listening.
"We'll find someone who will swear to secrecy, or we can obliviate them afterwards," Hermione said.
Bellatrix looked at her.
"That's a little bit devious for you, isn't it?" she asked.
Hermione smirked at her.
"Someday I'll tell you all the Hogwarts stories," she said.
"Hogwarts…" Bellatrix thought.
"That gives me an idea," she said. Out came her silk pouch and she stuffed her heels into it, then produced her favourite pair of black leather boots and fished around for a clean pair of socks.
"Come on, let's go for a walk," she said as she slid her feet in and zipped the boots up.
Hermione followed suit, only she laced up white and purple trainers instead of boots.
"I have no idea how she walks around in those things all the time," she thought.
"Where are we going?" Hermione asked as they descended the steps, hand in hand.
"Spare classroom where Winthrop taught the extra classes," Bella replied.
Hermione hmmed.
"So is this a continuation of our date?" she asked.
"Hoping to get lucky strolling around our old school after hours?" Bellatrix asked. With a grin, she stopped and pulled her close to kiss her quickly on the lips, and her heart fluttered at the gesture.
"Much as I'd love to tie you down somewhere and lick you until you clench around my fingers, I really want to see what's in Winthrop's old classroom," she whispered.
Tingling engulfed her groin and Hermione's knees went weak at the vision Bella painted for her.
"Not everything is about sex, you know," Hermione said, but her voice came out tighter than she'd intended, and she cleared her throat.
Bellatrix regarded her curiously, and Hermione swallowed, then teetered at the edge of those dark, starfield eyes.
"No, but between you and me, I wouldn't mind if it was," Bella said. Then she turned and continued walking, dragging Hermione along in her wake.
They arrived at the alternate Defence classroom on the second floor, and Bellatrix pushed into the room, then closed the door behind them. Hermione threw up a ball of white light, casting dark shadows. The room looked identical to the previous year, with desks arranged in neat rows, several blackboards around the edges, and a slightly raised platform at the front for a professor to lecture.
"What are we looking for?" Hermione whispered.
"Something to plant a ward on, to create a long-lasting compulsion," Bellatrix replied, "hmm… if I were going to do it…"
She looked up at the ceiling, then down at the floor and started walking up and down the rows, tapping her heeled boots on the ground.
Click. Click. Click. Click… Clack.
Bellatrix looked at Hermione, and stomped down again. Clack.
"Isn't that interesting…" she said.
The floor was made of solid stone though, and after about three minutes of searching for a hidden door or catch, Bellatrix apparently ran out of patience.
"Get out of the way," she said as she drew her wand, "bombarda."
Hermione's eyes widened and the resulting explosion overturned desks and popped her ears as chunks of stone blew out of the floor and bounced off the ceiling and walls, and clattered to the ground. She coughed in the plume of dust that followed.
"Are you mad?" she asked.
"That's what they say," Bellatrix replied as she levitated the larger pieces away to reveal a space beneath the floor, a long hollow which curved slightly. Nestled in the bottom lay a vein of a dark, blue-tinted metal Hermione was beginning to recognise very well.
"Cold iron," she said, "we need to tell McGonagall."
All thoughts of a lovemaking session vanished from her mind, and they made haste back to the Headmistress' office. After a quick explanation, the six of them returned to the classroom.
"Was it too much trouble to summon me before blasting a hole in the classroom floor?" McGonagall asked, "what if there was something delicate inside?"
Bellatrix shrugged.
"But there wasn't," she said.
McGonagall wore the expression Hermione had come to associate with an incoming detention or deduction of house points. Instead, she pointed her wand at the floor. It took the Headmistress under a minute to transfigure the entire floor to be as transparent as glass. Laid out in a circle around the room was what looked like a block of cold iron, one long, narrow rectangle twisted to join itself in a loop, with various runes inscribed on the dark surface.
"Who were the students in the special class?" Ron asked, "we're going to want to track them down."
"Daisy Vane," Hermione said as Ron wrote, "Julie Parks… oh honestly Ronald, your handwriting. Let me."
Ron relinquished the quill with a grin.
"Professor, do you know what this does?" Ginny asked as he studied the circle of metal.
"I believe it is for ritualisation of a potion, though I am not familiar with which one…" she said.
Bellatrix agreed with her assessment… although something tickled her memory, she couldn't place it.
Harry started copying runes, while Ginny moved desks out of the way to clear the path around. Bellatrix joined in next to them to double check his work. He stopped to look at her for a second, then continued. She made a few corrections, and then after about twenty or so, the runes started to repeat. They followed the vein all the way around the room to ensure the pattern remained, then Harry folded the parchment.
"What are you planning to do with that?" Bellatrix asked.
"I have someone I think can tell us what it is, and then hopefully we'll have an idea of how to break the enchantment," Harry replied.
He looked around.
"In fact, I'd better get going," he said as he tucked it into his dress robes, "with any luck, I can catch him before he knocks off for the day."
Hermione tsked and she walked up to Harry and held out her hand. The Boy-Who-Lived pulled the parchment back out and handed it over. She set it side-by-side on a desk with a blank parchment, and then with a wave and a muttered charm, the image of the runes passed onto the blank page. Hermione scanned them briefly to ensure it was a good copy, then passed the original back to Harry.
"Right, I'm off," Harry said.
"I'll go with you," Ron said.
McGonagall nodded.
"It is getting late, and I still need to have a word with Albus' portrait," she said.
With that dismissal, they all followed her back to the Headmistress' office. Harry and Ginny went first, to Grimmauld, followed by Ron, who flooed to the Burrow. By unspoken agreement, Hermione and Bellatrix departed to Diagon, then apparated to Hermione's house.
Bellatrix appeared in the living room with a small pop.
"I'm knackered, going to turn in," Bellatrix said with a yawn. Hermione nodded and let her take the loo first.
Although she was tired, after changing into her nightgown and laying beneath the thick blankets, the day's events replayed over and over, from dancing with Hermione in the dresses they'd enchanted together, to stabbing Rod, to everything that Dumbledore had revealed.
"Gellert Grindelwald," she thought, "the Aevum of Eternity."
She turned to her side and thought back to the experience of recovering her lost years. Instead of focusing on them, she'd used occlumency to keep them separate, so when the charm faded, so did the memories. It had been necessary to escape from being trapped in her own mind, but try as she might, she now could not recall a single one of them.
"Do I have a soul? Or am I more like a very advanced golem, or Inferi?" she thought, "I'll wager there's only one person who could answer that..."
The thought of having to confront him, after his unusual interest in her… he must have known, or at least suspected…
"What would he say? Would he be angry I stole his creation? Happy it worked?" she thought, "would he think I somehow belonged to him? Good luck with that."
She smirked, but a soft knock at the door interrupted her, and then the knob turned to reveal a bushy haired silhouette.
"Do you mind if I join you?" Hermione whispered.
"As if I'd say no," Bellatrix replied as she slid back to make space.
Hermione closed the door and slid into bed, face to face with her in the dark, their knees touching one another, and Hermione slid one hand atop her waist.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"I'm fine," Bellatrix replied, but Hermione shook her head slightly.
"Bella…" Hermione said.
"I'm not getting out of this," Bellatrix thought, "well… if it's what she wants, then…"
She sighed deeply.
"Okay, I know I said I did, but honestly, I don't really know how I feel," Bellatrix said, "It's a bit odd. I would think I'd feel more… something, but really I don't feel much of anything at all. Perhaps I'm in shock."
"How's your cold?" Hermione asked. Her hand shifted to her forehead but Bellatrix brushed it away.
"More or less the same, thank you very much," she said, "is this why you came over?"
"Is it so wrong that I'm worried about you?" Hermione asked.
"No, but I don't need to be babysat," Bella replied, "I'll be fine."
Hermione scooted closer until their foreheads almost touched, and Bella allowed her to nudge one of her legs between hers, below their knees.
"You understand why I can't leave now, don't you?" Hermione asked.
Her heart tore at the question. She knew then that if she left, Hermione would not go with her. She'd let her leave on her own.
"Not on your own, Leana would welcome you," Bella thought. But Leana wasn't who she wanted.
"You understand why I can't stay?" Bellatrix whispered.
Hermione's breath shuddered with her sigh.
"She's almost in tears," Bella thought, and her own eyes stung in response.
She blinked in the dark.
"You can. We could probably really use your help," Hermione said.
"What if you leave, and something happens to Hermione?" Bella thought, "what if you stay and something happens to her anyway?"
"Why oppose him though?" she asked.
"What?" Hermione asked.
"Come on Hermione. Bloody Gryffindor just has to be brave. It's fucking Gellert Grindelwald," she thought, "he nearly took over Europe and only Dumbledore stopped him, and only through trickery. Dumbledore, who even in his decline, the Dark Lord wouldn't face."
She wasn't being fearful, simply pragmatic.
"Keep telling yourself that, Bella," she thought.
"Not everything is black and white," Bellatrix said, "I mean… you don't have to join his… movement or whatever, but you don't have to fight him."
"Until he gathers enough power and followers and becomes unstoppable?" Hermione asked, "what are you thinking?"
"Yes, let's think," Bellatrix said, "what's he done… full rights for werewolves and free Wolfsbane potions, Beings included on the Wizengamot, Aurors out of Azkaban, homes for disadvantaged muggles, property rights for goblins…"
"Yes but the ends…" Hermione said, but she paused and took another shaky breath.
"She's fighting the compulsion," Bellatrix thought. The Slytherin in her wasn't above pressing the advantage while she had it though.
"You would have fought for the same things if you were Minister," she added.
Hermione growled.
"How many laws did he break to accomplish that though? Where's the real Frances Winthrop? What about his father, Abel Winthrop, who was murdered in his home? And that's just what we know about," Hermione said, "you can't tell me you're condoning his actions… forget about a position of power with responsibilities for others, someone like that belongs in prison. He put me under a compulsion for Merlin's sake. You too, by the way, in case you'd forgotten."
Bellatrix nodded. Certainly she was angry about that, and yet…
"Not to mention however many muggles died to create the Aevum in the first place," Hermione continued.
"But if that didn't happen, I wouldn't be here," Bellatrix whispered.
Hermione stopped short.
"Oh Bella," she said, her voice raw with emotion, "is that what's…?"
Warm lips pressed to hers, and Bellatrix pulled Hermione against her, slipped an arm beneath her neck to embrace tighter, chest to chest and stomach to stomach as their legs entwined and her tongue sought entrance. Her fingers came away wet from Hermione's cheek, and she pulled back a few inches, her breaths coming fast and heavy.
"If ten thousand people died so I could live, how does that make me anything but an abomination?" she asked.
"That's not something you chose," Hermione said.
"But it's what I am," Bellatrix said.
"No, it's not," Hermione said, resolution powerful in her voice, "you are what you choose to be, and you're a beautiful, talented witch, who uses her power to help people."
Hermione slid back a few inches and shuffled slightly until her nightgown fell to the floor, leaving her fully exposed, then pressed against her so only Bella's thin shift separated them. One stroke down her naked back and over her bum and instinct demanded the feel of Hermione's skin against her own. A second nightgown joined Hermione's on the floor, and she wrapped up her lover with everything she had. She wanted to touch all of her at once, to be touched in return, and as their tongues clashed, a single thought ran through her head.
"Tonight at least, nothing matters except this beautiful witch, naked in your bed," she thought, "she's here because she wants you, because she believes in you. Don't let her down."
She trailed kisses down Hermione's neck and chest and her lover's head fell back onto the pillow. The moan she released when Bella scraped her teeth over a hardened nipple was cool, clear water after three parched days under the desert sun. As she moved lower, over her flat stomach, Bellatrix Black again allowed herself to fall into the fantasy that she was as Hermione described: worthy of her.