Note: So, indeed, you're very right in many observations about Hermione. In her case she was abused by her father her entire life and she still feels trapped in this abusive/toxic relationship, carrying with her all the emotional damage.
It was hard writing in her POV because it can be very angsty and dark. But it's part of the story. Harry has a lot of issues too, in different aspects, of course, but very similar. But both, on their own and together, will find a way of healing, worry not.
This chapter is particularly sad and very emotional, but hey, I'm all about happy endings, so, bear with me while we go on this hurtful - but necessary - journey.
Hope you enjoy it!
(And the title, Queen, of course.)
(…)
Night of the Ball
She looks at her reflection in the mirror. Hermione decided getting ready with her mother inside the room she shares with her father. He's not there now, so, it's just her and Bellatrix.
"You look absolutely gorgeous." Her mother says. Hermione smiles.
"This dress is truly beautiful." She says in a low voice.
Hermione doesn't know why, but she's nervous for tonight. Maybe it's the first time that she's getting this feeling inside her stomach because of a Ball.
"Here." Bellatrix says behind her, moving to put a necklace around Hermione's throat. She helps by holding her hair up. It's the serpent. Their crest. What represents the Riddles. Her fingers touch the beautiful jewelry. Bellatrix is smiling behind her. "I'm so proud of you, honey."
Hermione smiles back and turns to hug her mother. "I love you, mum." She says in a thin voice, a turmoil inside her.
"What's wrong?"
Shaking her head, she moves away. Hermione doesn't know why, but she feels like crying. "Nothing. I just-" She shrugs, sighing. "I'm a bit emotional, that's all."
"Talk to me." Bellatrix says softly.
"I- I'm just very confused, mum. About a lot of things."
Her mother makes a face. "That's new. You're always so sure of every little thing, Hermione. Since you were a little girl." Hermione says nothing to that. "Is this about… D'Angelo?"
She widens her eyes. "No. Of course not! Why-"
"Don't lie to me. You can lie all you want to others, but not to your mother." Her tone is harsh. "I know you've been investigating a lot with him. As counselor I have my eyes and ears everywhere." She makes a face. "Just as your father does." She's warning Hermione. "But not just that, Hermione. You've been acting different since he got here. Since the Fair. Do you feel something for him?"
Hermione gulps and groans, "I don't know." She says faintly. She trusts her mother completely. "Maybe." She closes her eyes. "No. It's still that same attraction, a pull that-" She moves her hand in front of her. "I'm sure it'll go away. It's probably nothing."
Bellatrix narrows her eyes, considering her words. "Well, I'm looking forward to meeting him tonight."
Hermione nods. The notion that Harry will be there gives her… butterflies in her stomach. She wants to laugh at it. What am I? A teenager?
"You'll like him." She says to her mother.
"Let's see." Sighing, Bellatrix heads to the door. "I'll look for your father."
Hermione watches her go and putting two fingers against her temple, she walks outside, on the porch. Leaning at the rail, she observes the guests arriving.
Until-
Her eyes settle at a male figure in the distance. It looks like Harry.
Her heart beats faster. Is it him? She gets the funny feeling that… yes. It's him. And he's looking at her. There's a huge distance separating them, but Hermione never felt this close to someone, this absolutely bewitched.
But the moment ends when her father comes from the room, calling her.
"We need to talk." He says, heading back inside.
"About?" Hermione asks.
Her mother is there with her arms crossed.
"Is Asmodeus still without a wand?" Her father asks.
Hermione sets her jaw. "Yes."
"Is he capable of performing the wandless Patronus?"
"I don't think so." She answers sincerely, her mind catching up to where this conversation is going. She didn't even spare a thought on this, all her worries elsewhere-
"So, he can't dance with you." Her father says in a firm tone.
"Maybe I shouldn't dance, I mean, what's the point if-"
"You will dance." Tom says sharply, his eyes on her. "You're my daughter, a Riddle. This is our legacy. I hope you don't forget that, Hermione."
She grits her teeth. "Yes, father. Of course. But I'm afraid I don't have a partner, then-"
"She should dance with the new Auror. D'Angelo, isn't it?" Bellatrix says, interrupting Hermione.
Widening her eyes she tries signaling her mother to drop this crazy idea, but Tom is narrowing his eyes to his wife now.
"Why D'Angelo?" He asks.
"Well, because he's a foreigner. Think about it," Bellatrix begins walking around inside the room, talking calmly, "if Hermione dances with any other Pureblood from a respected family, it'll surely cause some headache. Can you imagine the family and the Pettigrews? But with D'Angelo," She shrugs, "It's just a dance with another man. A man that Hermione surely has no chance of having any kind of involvement."
Hermione freezes at the way her mother is looking at her. She's suggesting this on purpose. She wants her to dance with Harry.
Gulping, she looks down. Her whole body is reacting to the mere thought of dancing with him. She's not sure she'll be able to keep it together-
"Well," Her father says, "it is a good idea."
Hermione widens her eyes. "He already has a dance partner. He's dancing with Sally Black and-"
"So? Doesn't matter. He'll dance with you. Sally is young, she has many Balls ahead of her and if they truly have something, this won't be a problem." Riddle says and clears his throat, straightening his suit.
She feels desperate. "Let me talk with Asmo one more time. Make sure that he can't perform the Patronus." Her father is making a face. "You know him, father. Asmo hates D'Angelo. He won't accept this easily."
With clear distaste, Tom says, "Fine. But if he's not able to do it, then it's settled, you dance with D'Angelo tonight." She only nods, her stomach doing somersaults, her insides melting at the possibility. "Okay, let's go then, we'll be introduced in five minutes."
Things finally settled after the attack and everyone left.
Hermione wasted no time, she went straight to her old bedroom - she's spending the night at the Manor - hiding away inside.
Many years ago she enchanted her room. It keeps changing locations, so, she's the only one who knows where it is inside the mansion. The only one who knows the right shelf to move.
And because of this, she's sure no one will bother her now.
Taking off her dress and tossing it on the armchair at the corner, she summons an underwear and a white t-shirt. Then, she crumbles down on her bed, her stomach up, both hands covering her face.
"What have I done?" She says, her mind being taken by Harry, by what they shared.
It was theoretically wrong. Very wrong.
But then why it felt so right?
And she couldn't resist him anymore. Not after the dance.
Not after… sharing the Perfect Harmony.
She takes a pillow and screams into it.
She was sure this was a myth. Sure it would never happen with her. Of course it hadn't happened with Asmo for these past years-
She was waiting for someone else.
How it's even possible to share this with Harry, she has no idea, but deep down, it doesn't matter.
It happened.
She can't describe what she felt while they were waltzing. Nothing else mattered, nothing existed around them. The only thing for her was him, his hands, his eyes, the way they moved together. Her heart was beating so, so fast.
When she first noticed the claps she couldn't believe them. It surely was a mistake, a prank, something of the sort. But then they stopped and she saw how their Patronus were behaving and it just… she knew.
She knew inside her heart that what she felt for him was more than an attraction. And it exhilarated her. She felt like she… belonged. With him. In his arms.
But then she looked at him.
Hermione could tell that Harry was very confused about it all. And when he kissed her forehead she felt like crying.
In that moment… if he had kissed her… not even her father would oppose to their wedding.
And even if the notion seems ridiculous it's also so very perfect… right.
In that moment she felt like she was losing something because she'd waited her whole life for this to happen.
If she's true to herself she only stopped believing in the Traditional because she had already accepted that it wouldn't happen to her. She tried with Ron, with Blaise, with Cedric, then Krum - who she was sure was going to happen and nothing.
When she had her first dance with Asmo she had already lost any kind of hope. So, when it didn't happen, she was fine with it.
But now.
She's shaking her head, laughing out of despair.
"Damn, D'Angelo." She says in a whisper.
How can this man mean so much in so little time? And how is she going to function properly now? After the best sex of her life?
She grunts, closing her eyes. It's going to be pretty difficult dealing with all of this from now on. Not just because it seems like she and Harry might be soulmates, but she has a boyfriend. And she has a father that would never approve her with a foreigner. And then there's the binding obedience contract she made with her father and the obvious fact that D'Angelo can't be fully trusted.
"What am I going to do?"
She felt terrible when Asmo held her after the attack. His touch… it was- wrong. Nothing like Harry's. And she wanted to step away from him, to swat his hand from her body. Specially with Harry close by. Strangely, it felt like she was cheating on Harry.
Maybe she should end things with Asmo.
She knows she can pretend that everything is fine, but Asmo will question her about the Traditional. He'll be crazy because of it and things are going to be even worse because he'll want to prove to Harry that he's the one for her.
Hermione considers the consequences of ending things with him.
And she makes a face.
Asmo will make a scene. He will talk with his father who will talk with… her father. And her father will question her incessantly. He'll ask if D'Angelo is the reason why she broke things up and Hermione will be in a terrible position, she could lie, but then, if her father learns the truth, he'll try even more to send Harry away. Asmo will do whatever it takes to see Harry back in Italy and her father might take even drastic measures.
She sighs. If she wants to have something with Harry, the only way of doing it is… staying with Asmo. They all know that she doesn't believe in the Perfect Harmony, they all expect her to brush it off like a silly thing. They expect her to keep acting normally, to keep doing her things as she has been doing for the past twenty-six years of her life.
If she ends things with Asmo she'll be putting a huge target on hers and Harry's back, practically yelling to the others that they want to be together.
And do they? Want to be together?
Hermione swallows the huge lump in her throat. Harry does - in a way. He wants her. And it's not some simple attraction.
She knows because- he saw them in the mirror. What his heart wants. She thought she was crazy when he acted as if she was the one losing it in front of a mirror. He has no idea. No idea of what he saw, of what it means. And she won't tell him. She can't complicate things even further.
She inhales deeply, trying to calm down.
And their encounter fills her mind. His touch, his kisses, the way they fitted perfectly… like they were made for each other. She was throbbing for him, wanting him since the moment she saw him standing in the crowd. So handsome and strong. She couldn't wait to rake her nails over his chest, abs, back. Everywhere.
She wets her lips, clicking her tongue. It'll be very hard to keep away from him. And truth is… she doesn't want to. But they'll need to be careful now. Extremely careful.
Turning on the bed, she closes her eyes again. On top of everything the Manor was invaded. She can't even begin to imagine how furious her father is. Since he left that room with orders, she didn't see him again, neither her mother.
Her mother. Who Hermione is sure will have a lot to say about the Traditional.
She grunts. Bellatrix was the one who made her dance with Harry, somehow her mother knew what would happen and Hermione asks herself how exactly is she talking about D'Angelo with the others… is it that obvious? What she feels? Because if it is… she's in some real trouble.
She rolls again on the bed, smiling to the ceiling, thinking about him. About the way he smiled after they'd fucked and said he hoped it wasn't a one time thing. She loves his smile-
Suddenly, she frowns.
He said someone tried to choke him. Hermione narrows her eyes. Oddly, she felt it. Her left hand burned and she searched for him inside the room, all her senses on alert, telling her that he was in danger. Gulping, she lifts the hand to her eyes, examining it.
What is this tingle? A sensation? A connection?
Whatever it is, no one can know about this. She has a strong feeling that it's important, huge. She blinks a few times, thinking.
Whoever invaded the Manor, drugged everyone inside the ballroom… except for her. It was like they wanted Hermione to find out what was happening. Which is probably the case. But even so, when she was dueling inside that room, something felt off. The invaders weren't really attacking them and she doesn't remember performing any spell that might be fatal, however when the lights came back on, all of them were dead…
And Lucius.
She can't say she'll miss him. He was… terrible. A Pureblood in all aspects. Nasty aspects. Hermione makes a face. Not so different from her own father-
Her father's reaction… she's already dreading what she'll face at the Ministry. How much she'll need to work to solve this, and even so, she doubts she'll find answers. Much like what's been happening with the Fair. There's a traitor inside the inner circle, she's sure. An invasion like this would be impossible otherwise. And the Minister surely thinks the same. She wonders who might be his main suspect.
Hermione sits on the bed, crossing her arms. There's something she needs to do.
Putting on some sweatpants and socks, she moves out of the room.
The Manor is silent and dark. Her father is surely in his study and she hopes she doesn't run into her mother. She's not ready to talk about what happened. Not yet.
Walking fast, she descends into the storage room/basement where she took Harry some hours ago. She needs to look at the Mirror again, she needs to be sure of what she saw.
For almost ten years the image never changed for her. She used to go down there just to be sure, but tonight… she was surprised because it finally did change. She was so shocked she didn't look at it properly-
Hermione gulps when she enters the room, closing the door behind her and leaning against it. Her eyes inevitably go to the wall where she held on to while Harry thrusted inside her. She presses her lips together, the memory arousing her.
But she shakes her head and walks to the Mirror. She stops in front of it with her head down, taking a deep breath. Then, she looks at the inscription above - 'Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.' - 'I show you not your face but your heart's desire.'
And she faces her heart's desire.
It's herself, a bit older… and-
Hermione begins to cry. She used to see herself pregnant, the big belly showing, a huge smile on her face but now…
Now there's a small child with her, a boy. And he looks like Harry. His eyes are the same emerald, the same black hair. She kneels in front of the Mirror, bracing herself, sobbing. And again the image changes- Harry is also there, he's holding the boy in his arms, the other one around her. Both are smiling.
She cries harder.
It's an impossible dream. An impossible wish.
When she was sixteen she discovered she couldn't have children.
A private healer said it to her. The woman explained that Hermione's chances of getting pregnant were almost zero. Her words exactly were 'You might try, but it'll never happen. I'm sorry.' It wrecked her completely. It broke something inside that Hermione was never able to mend. It's a hollowness that fills her, if that's even possible.
And since then, this has been her heart's desire. To get pregnant, to have a child.
Be a mother.
It's worse now. Because she knows who she wants to be the father. Whose children she would want to bear.
Harry's.
She looks again at the Mirror. A family. With Harry.
Hermione observes every little detail of the image. The little boy must be around three and he's a perfect mixture of both, even with black hair, the texture is like Hermione's, more curly. His nose is like hers also.
And the breathtaking eyes.
Harry is holding her tightly, happily.
Herself is showing a smile Hermione never opened in her real life.
They're… perfect together.
Her eyes settle on Harry. He's young. Handsome. Healthy. And he surely desires a family of his own… brushing her tears away, she decides.
She decides that she can't do this to him. She can't get too involved. There's no future for them, because of many, many reasons. The most they can have is a bit of fun. That's all.
He deserves to marry a woman that can give him heirs. Or someone that can be his wife without having to choose between him or her family.
Sally might be a good option. She sighs. The thought cuts her open. It won't be easy seeing him with someone else, but there's no other way of dealing with this.
Hermione stands from the floor. She has no idea for how long she knelt there, looking at the Mirror, but her knees are sore when she leaves the room.
Without looking back, she goes, sure of what she needs to do.
March 25th, 2006
Ministry of Magic
She clears her throat. Most of them are seated, others are standing, but all eyes are on her. Gathering the courage she thinks she has left, she says:
"I started suspecting Auror D'Angelo when Auror Pettigrew came to me and stated that his father," Hermione points to Peter, "was sure that he'd seen D'Angelo killing Lucius Malfoy on that night. Since I didn't have any real proof of this, I decided only to get closer to Auror D'Angelo in a way that might give me concrete evidence of what he'd done. Not just that but I hoped that he might confess to other secrets." She sets her jaw, stopping her words. "However, D'Angelo is highly trained, smart. When I realized he wasn't going to share any information willingly, I began planning a way of making him confess without giving him Veritaserum inside Ministry's grounds, which would have stirred many questions and some kind of bureaucracy." She inhales deeply, pausing. She doesn't dare looking at anyone in particular, her eyes lost on the wall in front of her. "I made a direct question and he gave me a direct answer. Yes, he's the one who murdered Lucius on that night."
"I knew it!" Peter Pettigrew slaps the oak desk, a smile on his face. Hermione wished she could hex the shit out of this nasty man.
"Very well." Her father says. "That was incredible work, Hermione. Congratulations. I assume D'Angelo might be responsible for the attack and the-"
"No." She cuts him. "I don't think he holds any responsibility on these other incidents. However, I plan on conducting a series of interrogations with him. Alone. Now that he's inside a cell, it won't be an issue giving him more Veritaserum." She discreetly gulps. Of course she's not giving him more. But she wants them to think that she is. Especially her father.
The Minister raises an eyebrow. "More interrogations won't be necessary. He should be immediately-"
"You want to send Matteo D'Angelo's grandson to Azkaban without a fair interrogation or trial, father?" She snaps. Her heart is beating extremely fast, but she holds herself, keeping her coolness.
Riddle presses his lips together, his eyes heavy on her. She sustains his gaze. She won't let him do this to Harry. She doesn't care what it takes.
"Hermione is right." Bellatrix says, her voice loud at the deafening silence inside the room. "It would be silly and imprudent. Now that he's under our custody, after confessing a crime, there's no rush, Tom. Let Hermione do her job. It's better for the Ministry and for the explanation that the IWO will surely want because of Matteo D'Angelo."
Hermione wants to hug her mother in gratitude. Bellatrix knows what Harry means to her. For real. And Hermione knows that they'll have a long talk after this.
Her father doesn't seem pleased, but he nods. "Very well." He says in a clipped tone. "But you won't do it alone, someone must be there with you."
She grits her teeth. When she's about to protest, Sirius beats her to it:
"I'll do it. I'll be there with her." He says in a serious tone, his eyes on Riddle, looking for confirmation.
"Good. It's settled." Her father says.
Hermione ponders if she should protest. Maybe not. Maybe Sirius' presence will… calm Harry in a way.
She turns cold just to imagine how Harry will treat her.
"Also," She says, getting their attention again, "I'm the only one allowed to interrogate him. Is that clear?"
"Why?" Asmodeus asks.
Hermione wants to laugh at his face. Of course he thought he might have his shot at torturing Harry.
"Because this is personal, Asmo. I trusted D'Angelo and he killed one of ours. I feel responsible for welcoming such a terrible man into our Department. I've put all our lives in danger."
She can't believe the words coming out of her mouth. It seems like a delirious fever. Everything.
"Hermione has a point." She turns her head to look at Draco. "And I agree with her. He killed my father but I don't think I should be there interrogating him. We have to… trust our Head." He gives her a pointed look and she doesn't react.
This is so very strange.
They're all accepting this fact so easily… almost like…
She inhales deeply. They knew. They already knew.
She nods her head. "Exactly, thank you, Draco. He'll pay for what he did to your father. I'll make sure of it." She says firmly, watching his reaction, watching the others. They're all obviously uncomfortable. The only exceptions are her father, Peter and Asmo.
Oh, shit.
Things are way more complicated than she imagined at first.
"It's settled, then." Her father says. "Now, all of you leave. I want to talk in private with my daughter."
November 15th, 2005
Ministry of Magic
It was hard sitting on that meeting. Mostly because her mind kept wandering to Harry. She could feel the few times he looked at her, could tell that he was watching her every reaction.
She can't help wondering if he's feeling the same that she is. A maddening urge to be together. To kiss. To fuck again. She can't stop thinking about it.
Hermione clears her throat.
Asmo just left her office. His presence makes her nervous. Whenever she looks at him she wants to tell what happened at the Ball, she has half of a heavy conscious, but the real reason why she wants to say to him that she and D'Angelo fucked is so that he'll have a reason to break up with her.
But she can't. She won't.
It's tiresome pretending that things are okay... that things didn't change for her after the Traditional. Because they did. They surely did.
She sighs, looking down at the memo resting atop the file she was reading.
Since D'Angelo first stepped inside the Ministry, she warned all Departments to be wary of him and communicate her of his comings and goings. This memo she just received is from the Archives. He went there four days ago. On the day Asmo tackled him.
She narrows her eyes. It says that he was searching for the file concerning the Potters' Persecution.
Now, that's odd.
Why would Harry want to know about this? She sighs, thinking about the Potters. Hermione used to be obsessed with what happened. But she never found satisfying answers. Well, not that she knew what answers she wanted, exactly. However, the mystery around this whole thing… the fact that it was her father's breakthrough case as Minister… and how many holes seem to exist on the explanation as to why they were indeed persecuted… it never sat right with her. Not even when she was twelve. Much less now.
She holds her head with a hand. It's been a long while since she last spared a thought on this… and now Harry is certainly investigating. What do you want to know, D'Angelo? He's obviously looking for something. She makes a face. There's… a sense of strangeness about this. And her mind is itching, trying to remind her of something. Hermione hates this feeling, of having a huge answer but not being able to even understand the question.
Someone knocks on her door. "Come in!" She says.
And her eyes go to Harry immediately.
Hermione locks down all her reactions. She can't deal with this now. Not inside her office. Because if she gives in to her wishes, she'll be bending over her desk for him.
"D'Angelo." She says neutrally, he seems worried and… disappointed.
"We need to talk about the investigation." He says. Hermione discreetly gulps. Indeed. Care to tell me why you're investigating the Potters' Persecution?
November 22th, 2005
Hermione's house
She's standing by her bedroom window, observing the night from inside. Asmo is snoring on the bed. She sets her jaw. They never talked about living together. He has his own place and she loves her house, so, in a way she's glad he didn't ask her to move in with him. And until now they have nicely divided the amount of time they spend at each other's houses, but since the Ball, since the Traditional, Asmo is at her house almost every fucking day and night.
And his presence is pissing her off.
It's awful to feel like this, but his touch, his kisses, his hugs… she hates them. She feels dirty when she has sex with him. Unsatisfied and-
She looks down, sighing. The encounter she just had with Harry inside her office fills her mind. He's a fucking God when it comes to pleasuring a woman with his mouth and she can't deny she's jealous of every other lucky girl that had him this way. She's also baffled that at the age of twenty-six and after several partners, she's discovering a whole new layer of pleasure with him.
The downside of this is that… she's burning for more. And she can't go to him.
Bracing herself she thinks about how sad she was when he doubted her a week ago. She's been mulling over this the entire week, hurt. It astonished her how the way he sees her, trusts her, is able to dictate her mood for that many days.
It's not like she doesn't understand his doubts, she does. But even so… she can't explain. She wished he trusted her fully, but she's not a hypocrite. She has her eye on him, of course. And she knows he'll be pissed because of the conversation with Asmo that he overhead-
He said Harry killed Lucius.
She turns her head to look at her boyfriend. Hermione hates his father. Peter Pettigrew is the worst kind of man. He has no principles. She knows Peter would do anything to anyone if that meant gaining some advantaged for himself. Not to mention that he… tried kissing her one day. The memory gives her a gag reflex. It was at their house, on a dinner party. Asmo was entertaining some guests and she was alone, drinking. Then, that pig of a man came to her and insinuated all kinds of things, the worst kind. Hermione was already leaving when he seized her by the arm and went for a kiss. She's glad she reacted fast enough, slapping him hard on the face.
But he only opened a sneer and walked away. That still gives her the chills.
She had a huge fight with Asmo because of this. And he took her side. Asmo didn't speak to his father for months, but then it was simply like it had never happened. She has no idea why she stayed with him. She should have ended things back then, but well…
So, she can't be sure of this information. She doesn't trust Peter and she knows how they hate foreigners… accusing Harry is the perfect way of getting rid of him.
She wets her lips and walks back to the bed. She'll ask Harry. Hermione is fairly sure that she can tell when he's hiding something. She needs to look into his eyes and be sure that he won't lie to her.
March 25th, 2006
Ministry of Magic
"What is it, father?" She asks Tom Riddle when they're all alone.
Her father watches her closely, his eyes like slits. But it takes him minutes to talk, and she tries not fidgeting.
"I guess our binding obedience contract is over." He finally says when he sits down in front of her. "You made sure D'Angelo was no longer a threat. The same way you exposed him as a murderer." He chuckles. "Oh, Matteo D'Angelo is going to be so pissed. It makes me happy." Her father sighs, she gulps. Oh, father, you have no idea. He observes her and she relaxes back on the chair. She's eager for him to release her from this contract, but she doesn't want to show exactly how much. "Are you okay with all of this, Hermione?"
She widens her eyes a bit, the question surprising her. "What do you mean?" She asks, her throat dry.
Her father shrugs. "Well, you share the Perfect Harmony with D'Angelo." The words are like a cold bucket of water. It's the first time her father is sincerely recognizing that sharing this brings other things with it. Like a connection she never shared with anyone else. "Even if it takes a few weeks, he's going to be executed, you know that, don't you?"
She clears her throat. He's not worried about her, oh no, he just wants to rub it in her face. The fact that she'll be losing her soulmate. "I'm fine." She says, her voice steady. "You know what I think about the Perfect Harmony. It's just a bunch of rubbish fed to people so they might have a motive to throw Balls. D'Angelo is nothing more than a colleague. He deserves what's coming his way."
Riddle nods, raising one eyebrow. "I have to say this surprises me a bit. But in a good way. To be honest I was starting to suspect you, Hermione." She holds her breath. "The way you kept defending him, defying me to be by his side." Riddle clicks his tongue. "Even Asmodeus brought this to my attention, the way you seemed fascinated by D'Angelo."
"Asmo was just jealous. And I had to gain D'Angelo's trust somehow, you know that."
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"Huh." He narrows his eyes. "Well, I do hope he confesses more to you on these interrogations, then. I'm sure he knows more, about a lot of things."
She blinks a few times. "About what exactly?"
"Oh, maybe the Potters' Persecution?" He sets his jaw. Hermione's heart quickens.
"Why would D'Angelo know anything about that?"
"You tell me." He leans back on his chair, his hands coming together in front of him. "Weren't you helping him investigate?" She shakes her head, ready to deny, but her father stops her, "You pulled the files on the Aurors. Why? I didn't question you before because I wanted to see how far you would go with this. And suddenly, the file on the Persecution disappeared from my office." He moves forward on the chair. "I know you took it. There's no one else inside this place with enough courage or knowledge to do that." He raises a finger when she opens her mouth. "And then these same former Aurors began to drop dead." He clicks his tongue. "Do you have something to say to me, Hermione? Because if you do, now is the time."
SHIT.
She tries not panicking. She was kinda of prepared if her father ever questioned her about this, but now that Harry is inside a fucking cell she thought the Minister wouldn't mind this little detail.
Steeling herself, mustering her frail courage, she says, "Father, I admit I dug into this and I'm sorry. You know how curious I've always been with the Persecution. Because of the attack at the Fair, at the way Lily and James were used to justify that attack, I thought going back to this might be a good idea, maybe to understand better who we're up against." She takes a breath, hiding her hands that are shaking. "D'Angelo is an incredible Auror, despite the obvious reason why he's inside a cell right now, and I asked him to help me in this. He'd never heard about the Potters. Not exactly. But when I went to him with the idea, he backed me up and we started investigating. That's all. If these Aurors are dead, I have no clue why."
He makes a face. Not happy. "Are you sure that's all, Hermione?"
"Yes." She says sharply, some more courage coming back to her, muffling her fear. "I don't understand these questions, why does it even matter? I was doing my job."
"Why didn't you consult with me before stealing a file?" His tone is a bit higher.
"Because you wouldn't agree to it, would you? Even if you deny it, father, you're very touchy when it comes to the Potters. Almost as if you have something to hide."
He stands swiftly from the chair, she does the same, a center table between them. "Don't talk with me like that." He says in a dangerously low voice. "Don't forget that I'm your father."
"How could I ever?" She snaps.
He presses his lips together, his nostrils flaring. She's used to this. They've had another billion fights like this. The only thing she dreads is that this time she's hiding a huge secret. This time she's protecting Harry.
"Is this meeting over?" She asks, defying him.
The Minister opens a small smile. "How can I be angry with you, Hermione? I raised you after all, didn't I? I made you who you are." He straightens his back, a hand on his tie. Then he circles the center table and leans close to her, his mouth inches from her ear. "A woman that is capable of throwing her soulmate to the wolves because she's ruthless. Because she won't ever disobey." He laughs. "Yes, I raised you well. You're a true Riddle." She holds back her tears. "You're dismissed from our binding obedience contract." He says the words and she feels a coldness behind her ear, the mark of the contract vanishing, releasing her from its hold. She nods to him. "Again, very well done."
"Well, thank you." She says naturally and walks away from him, heading to the door. He calls to her when she's about to turn the knob.
"I want the file on the Persecution back." He says. "You can go now."
She flees.
November 24th, 2005
Draco and Ginny's
It takes over her in a powerful wave, her left hand hurting. It's not a warning inside her head or a red light shining before her eyes. It's not a voice yelling at her or anything of the sort. It's just a strong sensation that she's losing something. Losing half of her.
Harry.
She bolts to the house, no one is paying her any attention, so, in a beat she's there running up the stairs to the room where he's inside watching the funeral.
Hermione knows something is wrong. Her hand is burning up and she's desperate.
Desperate to see him, to feel him, to make sure that he's fine.
She opens the door with a bang and her heart stops at the sight in front of her.
Blood. His blood. All over the floor, taking over the place. She takes a second to react, in shock. Then she goes inside, her heart pounding.
Harry is on the floor, blood oozing from cuts on his torso. She kneels down, her left hand seizing his. That tingle and exhilaration she got used to feel when they touch is gone. A tear falls down from her face and she tries not losing it completely.
He can't be dead. No.
She's shaking, but Hermione holds her wand tightly, breathing slowly, closing her eyes and trying to remember the right spell for this. She's sure it was a Sectumsempra. She dares touching her left hand on his chest, searching for his heartbeat. There isn't one.
No, no.
She closes her eyes harder, the only counter spell she can think of coming to her lips. With a shaky voice she utters it. She needs to save him, there's no time to call the healers, no time to anything else.
Opening her eyes she sees the cuts closing, some blood coming back, reversing the spell. She purses her lips. He lost a lot of blood. An awful lot. It won't be enough.
She performs a mild shock with a spell on his chest, knowing this is standard procedure when trying to bring someone back. There's a weak heartbeat now. She takes his left hand in hers, the tingle is faint, but there. She chokes on a few tears of relief, and… she pours down her whole magic into him through their hands.
Come back.
She wishes it with all her soul.
He squeezes her hand. She utters again the counter spell on the Sectumsempra, some more blood going back into the cuts. She knows it's not the right spell, but it's working so it's good enough for her.
Come back to me.
She grits her teeth, feeling inside her that's working, almost as if she's… giving a bit of herself to him.
Hermione widens her eyes when she sees some light coming out of their joined hands. "Please." She says in a broken voice.
He can't die. He can't.
She- it-
Her thoughts are rushing into one another, nothing really making sense. She squeezes his hand harder, the light intensifying. Her other hand is now above some cuts and she utters a healing spell, the first thing that comes to her mind. It seems to work.
He stirs. She sobs. "Please, please."
She doesn't even care what it might cost her.
What matters is him. Only him.
November 25th, 2005
Somewhere in Wizarding London
There's a man following her. Hermione walks faster, pressing her lips together, utterly annoyed. Apparently her father doesn't trust her that much. She knows it's because of the Traditional. Tom Riddle wants to make sure that his daughter won't get too close to a certain Italian.
She suddenly runs and turn at a corner, apparating right after to a point where she knows her follower has already walked by. And indeed, the man is running to the corner, looking for her. She snorts. Maybe he's the best spy - or whatever - that her father has, but Hermione is just too good.
He was following her since the moment she left the Ministry. She just fooled him to have some fun. Sighing, she apparates again, now to a quieter street where she can walk calmly.
Hermione needs to think.
Yesterday was a strange day for her. First she had that little fight with Harry. He lied to her. Hermione saw it clearly. It was a punch to the stomach to know that he indeed killed Lucius. She has no idea what to do with this information. There are no concrete proofs. And she's sure it was self defense. Lucius Malfoy was choking Harry to death and she's insanely curious to know why. It wasn't something out of the blue or a mistake. Lucius knew what he was doing and to whom.
She can't help wondering why he didn't use a spell. Why choke him? It seems awfully mundane for a Pureblood, especially Lucius.
Again, she feels like she has an answer at the tip of her tongue. And again, she doesn't know the question she's making.
Reaching Hide Park, Hermione sits down on a bench, crossing her legs and watching the movement.
Her follower won't look for her in Muggle London. Which is idiotic. It doesn't cease to amaze her how her father can be such an ambitious man and not acknowledge the importance of Muggles, Muggleborns and Half-Bloods to society-
She stops this train of thought. Not the time.
Going back to yesterday, she thinks about the despair that took over her when she saw Harry lying there on his own blood. As Head Auror she already went through a lot of similar situations, close friends almost dying and such… but what she felt with Harry, it-
She has a hard time organizing her emotions. They're all kinda of new. She lacks words to describe them in a way that enables her to explain to herself what she's feeling. It's raw. Everything she feels for Harry or because of him. Raw emotions.
Raw despair. Raw excitement. Raw anger. Raw desire. Raw jealousy. Raw-
She purses her lips. No, it can't be. Hermione shakes her head. She's surely confused because of the Traditional, because of the image in the Mirror, right? Her heart beats faster and she grunts lowly. I've known him for less than a month! But even so, the notion is not absurd. Instead, it's simple and surely what she's feeling but is denying to herself.
She might be in love with him.
It's not a surprise. She can't stop thinking about him. Harry consumes her thoughts from the moment she wakes to the moment she lies down to sleep. She goes through her things with him at the back of her mind constantly. Not just that, but the way her feelings for Asmo - my boyfriend - changed drastically over the last month is enough indication for her that something is different. She cringes at Asmo's touch while she yearns for Harry's. If that isn't saying something, then she doesn't know what is.
I can't be in love with him. Fuck, I can't.
She snorts. What a mess. She can't deal with this right now. Maybe it's just a silly infatuation bound to go away after a while. Yes. That's it. It's not like he's the love of her life or something of the sort-
Hermione gulps. She keeps ignoring what having the Perfect Harmony actually means. Of course she can keep refusing to believe in it, but this particular and uncommon thing indicates that the person you shared this with is your soulmate. In other words, your other half. The perfect person for you. She looks down, exhaling heavily.
Does he feel the same?
She has no idea. He surely wanted to fuck her, but that's a whole other matter. The attraction between them has been a constant since their first meeting and- is it possible that this only happened because they're meant to be together? Real soulmates?
Oh, please. What a bunch of rubbish.
Her logical brain can't accept this.
I'm not in love with him. We're not soulmates. There is no such thing.
But she catches herself wanting to visit him, to check how he's feeling.
She bites her lower lip. Maybe she should knock on his door. If anything, she wants to talk about the attack and… reassure herself that this between them is just sex. He'll tell her that, won't he? Just some fun.
Nodding to herself she apparates to his door. She takes a deep breath before knocking.
I'm not in love with him.
March 25th, 2006
Ministry of Magic
Her heart is still beating like crazy because of the talk she just had with her father. Now she's heading to her office, waiting for the elevator to reach the right floor.
She needs to calm herself before going to the cells.
Don't cry.
It won't be easy facing him. Talking with him. Having to pretend, to lie. She squeezes the black stone of her necklace, trying to draw some strength from it.
The elevator stops and she exits it with wide and fast steps. She can't look at anyone right now. The fact that they all knew that Harry had killed Lucius is hammering her head. Now she's sure there's a lot she doesn't know. They've been covering for him and in a way she's glad that Harry will have all their support. They're obviously on his side and she wonders if her father has any loyal follower left. The answer she comes up with is: Pettigrew. But not even that is a certainty-
"Hermione." She stops, her hand close to her doorknob. Hermione closes her eyes, oh, fuck. "I want to talk with you. Now." She gulps and turns to face her mother.
"Mum, I can't right now-"
"I don't care." Bellatrix comes closer, her eyes accusatory. "We're going."
"Going?" She tilts her head.
"Yes. To the Manor. To talk." Bellatrix purses her lips and widens her eyes to Hermione, showing her that she has no other choice than obey.
She nods to her mother. But before they go, she walks to Ron, he's close by, at his desk. Hermione gulps when she steps closer and her eyes fall on Harry's desk. All his stuff are there. Frozen in time since he was sure he had another day to come back to the Ministry and do his job. But Hermione threw him inside a cell. She blinks a few times, averting her eyes from a mug that holds an Italian joke.
"I need to leave with my mother." She says to Ron. He's watching her with weary eyes. "You're in charge." He nods. "Make sure D'Angelo is tended to." She says in a low voice.
"Are you not coming back today?" Ron asks.
She gives her mother a side glance. "Probably later. I won't have the time today to interrogate him. Make sure no one goes down there."
Ron sets his jaw. "As you wish."
And he goes back to whatever he was doing. She presses her lips together. "And clean up D'Angelo's desk, Ron."
He widens his eyes-
"Let's go." Bellatrix says and Hermione follows her, not trying to talk with Ron again.
It's terrible. Not being able to tell them everything.
There's total silence between them until they reach the Atrium. But when they're about to step into the fireplace, Hermione sees Bellatrix shaking her head.
"Mum…" She begins, not finding the words to end her sentence.
"Not here." Bellatrix says and in a blur they step into the fireplace.
When Hermione emerges she's already at the Manor.
They go to Bellatrix's private room that comes close to a study, but not quite. This place is more detached from the rest of the mansion and Hermione knows that a lot of spells secure the secrets spoken inside.
She walks to the mini bar and fetches a whole bottle of Firewhiskey. Bellatrix just watches her.
"Hey, give me some of that." She says and Hermione extends her the bottle after taking a sip.
Bellatrix drinks and makes a face. Without a word they settle down, sitting on the enchanted fluffy floor. It's like a huge couch and Hermione can't even tell how many times mother and daughter sat together to share all kinds of things.
The moment Bellatrix brings Hermione closer to her with an arm around her shoulders, she crumbles down, crying, wailing.
"It's okay. It's okay. Shhh." Bellatrix tries soothing her, squeezing her tighter and just being there while she lets it out.
"I- I feel terrible. Like- Like a monster." She's sobbing through her words, brushing the tears falling from her eyes. It's a type of cry that hurts, that sears the soul. That one that takes all the person's strength with it.
"Hermione, oh, my sweet girl." Bellatrix kisses her head.
She cries and cries. Hermione thought yesterday she had already cried every possible tear inside her, but now… it's worse.
"I lost- him- forever."
Bellatrix sighs. "I don't think so." She says in a low voice and Hermione shakes her head through the tears.
"Don't do this, mum." She pulls back, trying to take a few deep breaths to stop the sobs. "Don't. He already had all the reasons in the world to hate me, and now-" She cries some more. "It just hurts. So fucking much." She covers her face with both hands. "We could have had it all and now there's nothing left."
Bellatrix says nothing for a while. Hermione tries calming herself, her cry finally subsiding, she can already feel the brutal headache coming back.
"Why did you do it?" Her mother asks. "When your father told me I couldn't believe him. At first I was sure he was mad, talking nonsense. Then I feared that you might have been under someone else's Imperius Curse. But you're too powerful for that. So, explain to me why you sent the love of your life to a cell?" Bellatrix emphasizes the last words, exasperated. "Your father will send him to Azkaban, Hermione! To death. So, because of this, I know for sure that you have a plan. Tell me."
"You know I was under the binding obedience!" Hermione fetches back the bottle of Firewhiskey, taking two gulps. "I had to give father something on Harry. I had to! He freed me from this contract after the meeting. I'm free."
Bellatrix sighs, relieved. "Finally."
Hermione looks down, considering her next words. "He won't go to Azkaban, mum. I made a deal with Matteo D'Angelo. We Vowed on it."
"Oh, Hermione." Bellatrix shakes her head, taking the bottle from her hand and drinking. "How huge of a mess is this? Who's getting burned in the end?"
"Apart from me… father." She says in a low voice, looking at her mother with piercing eyes. "Please, don't hate me-"
Bellatrix raises a hand, closing her eyes and stopping Hermione. "It's impossible for me to hate you, Hermione. I love you with all my heart. I've had for all your life." Bellatrix pulls her for a hug. "I understand your actions." She sighs. "And… there's something we need to talk about. I'm not sure it's the right time because of all that's happening, but know this… your father- he's not a good man." Hermione widens her eyes. It's the first time she's hearing such words from her mother. Bellatrix brushes away a few tears. "Whatever deal you made with D'Angelo, I'll be by your side, you understand? You're my priority and I'll do whatever it takes to protect you."
Hermione swallows the lump in her throat. "Father won't know about my participation in it. I mean, he'll suspect, but there's no way of being sure." She closes her eyes, "I had some very incriminating things on father and I gave them to D'Angelo. He'll offer his silence for Harry's freedom."
Bellatrix nods. "Clever. I see you've thought this through." Bellatrix takes another sip on the bottle. "Your father won't have a choice. Harry will walk free."
Hermione closes her eyes. "He will."
"And you're free from your the binding obedience."
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell Harry? About all of this? Why keep him in the dark?"
She shakes her head. "He has to believe in it. It's the only way father will also believe, and everyone else. Not just that, but I couldn't betray the bonding obedience being disloyal to father." She waves a hand. "And-" Hermione chokes. "It's easier if Harry hates me." She whispers.
"How come?" Bellatrix makes a face. "Easier for whom? Because I'm sure as hell that that man is suffering a great deal inside that cell. The same way you are."
She gulps. "Mum, I can't be with Harry, you know that. For so many reasons." She whispers. "But-" She hesitates. "I- we-" Hermione inhales deeply. "I can't give him children." Her voice is barely there. "You know that. It would be unfair to him, to us." She cries some more, silent tears. Hermione presses her lips together, trying to stop her chin from trembling. "He deserves a family." Her heart hurts.
Bellatrix groans, angry. She squeezes Hermione's hand. "Look at me." Hermione blinks many times before she does, afraid of what she might see in her mother's eyes. "This fact doesn't define who you are, Hermione. I know what you mean, but you took away his choice. Harry has no idea of this and-"
"Exactly. If I'd told him I know he would have chosen me, regardless. No. I don't want him to resent me in twenty years."
"You can't know that for sure." Bellatrix says harshly. "Hermione. He's your soulmate. Your other half-"
"Stop." She closes her eyes. "I don't want to talk about this." She looks at her mother. "It's done, mum. He hates me already. He'll move on eventually and I'll marry Asmo."
"For fuck's sake." Bellatrix says, drinking the Firewhiskey. "This is madness, Hermione. You can't marry that man." She's shaking her head. "You don't love him and I think he's awful." Bellatrix snorts. "Mostly because he's just like your father." She says in a low voice and Hermione frowns.
Bellatrix narrows her eyes, looking at the floor. Hermione waits.
"Hermione," Bellatrix sighs deeply, "there are a few things I want to tell you."
She blinks. Her mother is very serious. "Mum, you can tell me anything." She takes her hand and they smile at each other.
"I know, but I never wanted you to carry my… burden."
Hermione tilts her head. "Burden? What do you mean?" Her mother looks desperate… afraid of something. "Mum, what's wrong? You're scaring me." Hermione moves closer to her mother, their hands together.
"It's not easy talking about this." Bellatrix looks up, to the ceiling, inhaling deeply. Then she looks at Hermione. "Your father… when we met, he was not the powerful man he is today, even with the whole Salazar heritage and stuff." Hermione nods. "And the Blacks, my family," Bellatrix puts a hand on her chest, a sadness in her eyes, "we're old. Traditional, with a long Lineage. The purest of bloods." Bellatrix closes her eyes and continues to talk, Hermione watches her closely, "Tom Riddle wanted to ascent. Ascent to power. To Blood Supremacy. Who better to marry than a Black?" She opens her eyes, looking at Hermione. "It may be difficult hearing this, but, he- he gave me a love potion."
Hermione widens her eyes, totally shocked. She opens and closes her mouth, not knowing what to say. "What? How? I mean-"
"I was young and naive." Bellatrix gulps. "It took me years to notice that he was slipping me love potion."
"YEARS?" Hermione has a strong reaction at this. "Mum, please, don't tell me he gave you love potion for years!" She's outraged.
"He did." Bellatrix is crying. Hermione hugs her mother. "He did." She says again, her voice breaking. "When I realized what was happening I had nowhere else to go, no place to escape to." She cries harder and Hermione begins to cry all over again. "I was used to him and I think that… after so many years taking the potion, its effects linger inside me until today." She makes a pained face. "Hermione. I- I don't love your father. At all. If anything, I hate him."
Hermione presses her lips together, the tears falling from her eyes. "Mum, I'm so sorry."
"I know, sweetie, I know." Bellatrix sighs. "But he gave me you." She smiles and cups Hermione's cheek. "You're the real love of my life." Bellatrix touches her forehead on Hermione's. "I wanted to murder him for everything he did to you." Hermione lets out a small sound, almost a whine. "He's not a good man, Hermione. Don't you ever let him bind you to him again, do you understand?" Bellatrix pulls back to look into her eyes. "You have to be careful with him."
"I know. I am." She brushes her tears away.
"Good." Bellatrix nods, "There's… something else I need to tell you." Hermione takes a deep breath, from the way her mother is preparing herself she knows it won't be good news. "When you were nine… he wanted to experiment some spells on you," Bellatrix gulps, "dangerous things. Just because he wanted to see if you would be able to resist them." Hermione is biting hard on her lower lip, waiting. "I was against it and called in a healer, someone with knowledge that might change his mind. And the healer indeed warned him, she said it was too much of a risk to test such things, she emphasized that you were too young and it was impossible to know what kind of consequences it might bring to you further in life." Bellatrix shakes her head. "He didn't listen. He went through with it all and I'm so sorry that I wasn't able to stop him. He- he used to lock me up when he was doing this. I could hear your screams and-" She chokes, sobbing, shaking her head. "I failed you as a mother, Hermione."
"No." She says fast. "You didn't. Never." Hermione moves closer to her mother again, touching their foreheads. "It's his fault, mum. He's the monster." She remembers this experiment. It was painful. She can't tell which spells were used, he wasn't voicing them, but it was like she was breaking inside. Burning up and then dying. Dying to come back to life to suffer again. And then, when she was already exhausted, he used to strap her to a bed to collect her blood. Nine needles. At once.
"I should have fled with you. I should have killed him. I don't know. I should have done more. I'm so sorry." They look into each other's eyes for a long moment. "I'm sure the reason why you can't have children is linked to that experiment." Bellatrix whispers. "He did this to you. He caused this because his greed was bigger than anything else. His wish was to turn you into someone indestructible, turn you into his weapon."
Hermione feels numb. This is worse than any nightmare. Too much. It's all too much at once. She closes her eyes, silently wishing she could just disappear. How in hell is she going to deal with this?
They share a hug filled with sorrow.
"Do you understand better now? Some of my actions?" Bellatrix asks.
Hermione nods. "I do. I wish you'd told me sooner." She whispers. There's not a droplet of affection left inside her for her father. She hates him. Tom Riddle could burn in hell for all she cares.
"I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing, mum. It's not your fault."
"You're too good, sweetie." Bellatrix cups her cheek. "That's why I forbid you from marrying Asmodeus. I don't want you to have the same life I did."
Hermione scrunches her whole face. Her heart breaking. "I don't have a choice anymore." She whispers. "He-" She sobs, looking down. She's not sure she should share this, but how else is she going to explain to her mother?
"He what? Has he hurt you?" Her tone is deeper now, angry. "I swear that if he touched you I'm killing him-"
"No. It's not that." Hermione sighs, deciding what to do. "Mum, there's something I need to tell you and you have to promise me that you won't tell anyone. You have to promise me that this won't leave this room."
"I promise." Bellatrix says in a serious tone, wrinkles around her eyes. She's worried. "What is it?"
"Asmo is blackmailing me into marrying him. I- he-" Oh, fuck. "He found out a huge secret. Something that I- I'm willing to sacrifice everything to protect. Harry." She gulps. "Harry is… a Potter."
(…)