Ron didn't consider himself a violent person, however something about the casual familiarity of Draco Malfoy's arm draped across his love's shoulders; the way they smiled carelessly at each other and that joyful look in their eyes. Well… it sparked a hot, white fire to rot through his veins and a huge desire to plant his fist in Malfoy's face.
"'Mione." He greeted stiffly, eyes narrowing as the girl simply sighed, not even attempting to detach herself from Draco's side.
"Weasley!" Draco greeted back cheerfully instead of the brunette. Hermione glanced up at her blonde counterpart who simply smirked, keeping his eyes trained on the fuming redhead before them.
"Ferret." He growled sharply, arms coming over his chest as he sized the other boy up. "Mind telling me why Malfoy's got his spindly arms wrapped around you, love?" Ron puffed his chest out and stood taller. He wanted Hermione to know that he would fight for her, he thought that their kiss was enough proof of his affections for her, but perhaps he needed to be more bold. Unfortunately for the young Weasley, that couldn't be further from the truth and Hermione frowned at her friends behaviour. She crossed her arms and stared at him incredulously. She honestly didn't know what he possibly thought she saw in him other than friendship. Ron was sloppy and dirty. Admittedly, there were times where he could also be sweet and brave-hearted but that was why she loved him as a brother. The very thought of his lips sloppily against hers again caused her stomach to twist sickeningly. Besides that, she needed someone intellectually challenging, someone whose emotional intelligence wasn't the equivalence of a pebble. For a brief, flickering moment, obsidian eyes and tousled curls, flitted through her mind and her heart began a sporadic rhythm in response. No, she had quashed that a long time ago. Filled it with anger and loathing. Pain and scars. She swallowed harshly forcing those thoughts back into the crevices they crawled out from. This clearly was brought on by the time spent with the unhinged, volatile, although extremely attractive, dark witch. Realistically she hadn't spent an overwhelming amount of time with her since they started their sessions so… perhaps she was sick. That could be a very valid reason, a fever causing delusions. Hermione quickly raced through any and every tangent that avoided the feelings being sprung from the thought of dark eyes of her past torturer. Eventually, as always her logic and reasoning crushed the panic and redirected it to the fact that she had to win Bellatrix over for the sake of the mission. Nothing else, just the mission. Voldemort was the priority, the target, and Ron just wasn't seeing the big picture and she wouldn't let her thoughts distract her from that either. Even if to Hermione, sometimes that picture was skewed by an impish grin. Swallowing thickly, she grit her teeth.
"Ron, please that's enough. Honestly, this is ridiculous, Draco's my-"
"Very, very good friend." Draco winked, pulling Hermione closer than necessary. Inwardly, Hermione smiled at the display, finding his actions nothing but amusing. "Why would you care, weasel? She's not property, so perhaps you should stop treating her like it." Draco bit out tightly, ice curling around the edges of his voice like burning paper, lips lifting ever so slightly into the infamous Malfoy sneer as he peered at the infuriating boy before him. His eyes, however, were a Siberian maelstrom in the middle of winter. He greatly disliked the way the ginger haired boy felt he had claim over Hermione, and his general behaviour to his friend had put him on edge ever since he had heard that he had called out her name instead of Lavenders during a particularly intimate exchange. His obsession with Hermione was unhealthy and unwarranted.
"I never- I just. Me and Hermione aren't together...yet, but-"
"But nothing, Ron. I thought we talked about this." Hermione bristled at what Ron was insinuating. She had honestly had enough and stepped forward away from Draco's casual grip. In return, Ron frowned, his temper tapering into confusion. Regardless he stepped forward too, standing directly in front of the girl.
"Well actually, we didn't, not really. After our… kiss, all you said was that it was spur of the moment." Ron's eyes fell to the brunette's hands balled at her sides before he looked back into her face. Soft brown locks fell just below her collarbone, slightly wild due to her naturally bushy hair. "When, 'Mione… it didn't… it didn't feel spur of the moment." Raising his hand he gently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, leaving his hand resting against her cheek. Despite her ire, Hermione was beautiful, still his lovable 'Mione that threw her arms around him whilst they were soaking wet and brought their lips together heatedly. Yet despite all their time together, Hermione would always take a step back from them moving forward. Like right now, she visibly flinched, lurching away from him, as if burnt by his touch. He didn't understand why. "And whenever I tried to talk to you about it, you would change the subject." He reached for her once more, fingertips brushing her cheekbone.
"That's not how things happened, and you know it. I told you over and over that it didn't mean anything, and that I was sorry that I didn't see you like that, that I was wrong for kissing you that time and it really was spur of the moment." Hermione lamented, she really wanted Ron to understand, she wasn't trying to hurt him, but this was ridiculous and her ire was growing. "I chose to change to subject because I didn't want to discuss it anymore, Ron. Did you ever stop to think about that?" Hermione snapped, slapping his hand away furiously. She didn't understand what more she could do to make him see that while no part of her wanted to lose Ron, she still wanted nothing more than friendship from him. However the way he was acting was more than enough for her to wish for some more distance between them. With Ron standing so close she could see the way his nostrils flared at her cold words and how his brow creased in irritation, a vein visibly protruding from his neck.
"Well, when the hell do you want to discuss it then!" Ron bit out angrily. "All your free time recently seems to have been spent working on this 'save the death eater' project, that is bound to fail by the way, because, hey! Guess what, 'Mione?! She's a goddamn death eater!" Ron snarled viciously at the brunette, a finger jabbing the girl in her shoulder as he advanced forwards, forcing her back. "Hell, all you do is talk about her! 'Bellatrix did this, Bellatrix did that', you've been doing this for two seconds and suddenly this project means more to you than me?! She means more to you than me?!" Ron continued forward. Heat surging from his skin in waves as he stretched the lines of his own temper, ignoring the looks of other students that began to swarm around them. "You need a reality check, 'Mione! The woman is a skilled liar and a murderer, and you are wasting your time!" Hermione bit her cheek to stop herself from tearing up at her friend's harsh and spiteful words. A need to defend not only her pride but Bellatrix streaked through her veins, inextricable from the flowing anger. Although deep inside her, a fear at the truth clung desperately to the edge of her anger, an interceptable sense of doubt becoming more tangible as she worried if he was right. Swallowing tightly, she decided that her anger was the more comfortable course, so she narrowed her eyes, and set her shoulders, magic itching beneath her skin, and red began to cloud her judgement.
"When are you going to get your head out of those books and projects and focus on what's right in front of you!" Ron continued, oblivious to the destructive energy building in the young witch before him. Draco, fortunately noticed how his friends energy was slowly bubbling around her, the ends of her curls lifting ever so slightly with her temper.
"Probably around the time you realise that no is no, Ron! You're being intransigent!" Hermione snarled vindictively, fresh tears breaking past her resolve and running in rivulets down her cheeks. The explosion of chatter from her fellow students didn't help either as she tried to compose herself. "At least I have been trying to find information on Voldemort, trying to rebuild a broken woman, to possibly even have her switch sides. Do you even understand what a powerful ally she would make?" Ron grit his teeth as Hermione jabbed a finger against his chest accusingly. "Do you want me to list all that you've done so far, Ronald?" Hermione spat viciously as she shoved him back in a desperate act for space. "So far, all you've done is put me down, whinge and complain-" Hermione wiped tears angrily away as her voice hitched from the raging sadness and betrayal welling inside her. "Not only that, you continue to senselessly pine after me whilst fucking Lavender on the side! So don't you dare. Don't you dare come at me with this shit, Ronald Weasley! I am TRYING." Ron balked at Hermione's accusation, shame and guilt colouring his cheeks redder than the anger. He balled his fists as denial as thick as bile rose in his throat.
"I- I am not screwing Lavender, where did you even hear that? And even if I was, can you blame me!" Ron began to stammer, as his denial paved a way for his anger once more. If Hermione was more honest about her feelings there would be no competition, he wished she understood that. He would make her understand. "All you do is tease me and lead me on, you kiss me and leave me confused for weeks, you embrace me when you're sad but when I want you, you turn me away! Make it make sense, Hermione."
"Oh? You're not?" Hermione's words were rimed with ice, nothing but a callous cold in her eyes as she stared at Ron. Blubbering, angry, dismissive Ron. The Ron that she was beginning to loathe, the Ronald Weasley that was trying to blame her for his sexual appetite. "So you didn't have sex with Lavender? Not one time?" Laughter bubbled through her lips, miserable and uneven. "Not that time last night? hidden away in the dorms, a silencing charm on your room?"
"Hermione, don't."
"Not that time last week where she blew you under the quidditch stands? Not that time where you told me you were in love with me after you had finished fucking her in a bloody closet."
"Well I wouldn't fuck Lavender if I could be with you would I! It's not my fault you keep holding out on me. I want to be with you Hermione! There is no one for me except you, but you can't expect to lead me on and tease me with no consequences!" Ron spat vindictively. Yes it wasn't his fault Lavender wanted him, he was a war hero and they were both single, why wouldn't he take the opportunity. Just because he was having sex with her, didn't mean he loved Hermione any less.
"Lead you on and tease you? All I've done is tell you no! That I'm not interested, that I'm sorry!" Hermione was on the verge of a breakdown. Not quite one that would end in tears, but one that would end up with Ron in the medi-wing. She could not believe she was arguing with Ron about this, her hands were trembling, her heart had turned to stone, and it was taking the power of Morgana herself for her not to snap completely.
Draco swallowed nervously, this display of tenacity between the two had drawn a lot of attention, both friends were reaching a very dangerous boiling point, in which he was sure someone would get hurt. And so the young Slytherin attempted to come between the two Gryffindors, his hand coming up onto Ron's shoulder cautiously in an attempt to dissuade the boy from invading the witches space again, a hand behind him cautioning Hermione to also step back.
"Weasley, listen mate, that's enough." He tried softly, however his efforts were met by a furious dismissal as Ron smacked his hand away, tsunami eyes focused solely on Hermione, the waves retreating in order to come crashing forward with an intention to not just submerge, but to drown. Draco grunted roughly before physically coming in-between the two, once again placing his hands on the ginger boy roughly. "Oi, come on mate. You're taking it too-"
"Oh fuck off, Malfoy!" Ron shoved the other boy to the side hard. An audible thwack reverberated through the halls, slicing into the bustling conversations in the hall before descending into a thick silence. Slowly, Draco's body slid down, followed by a sickening scratching as his head scraped against the wall, burgundy wine blossoming in blonde locks mirroring the congealed red that now ran the same path his body had. Immediately noise flooded the room once more, two boys draped in green and silver raced to the blonde's side, slinging their arms around his waist and trying to lift the now limp, bleeding boy. Hermione's eyes were glued to the scene, however, her world was in complete silence. The image of Draco's head bouncing away from the wall and then snapping back like a rubber band before he finally fell unconscious was enough for a snowbank to encase her entire nervous system. Everything was numb. Students and teachers raced around her to attend to her friend, instinctually parting around her as she stalked towards a stammering Weasley; her eyes like brown marble.
"Shit- I-I didn't mean-"
She wasn't sure when her knuckles connected with Ron's cheek, just that the stinging in her fingertips and the red welts beginning to form on his skin and her knuckles, and the blood dripping from his nose were a good confirmation that she had in fact struck him. Although the strike didn't quell her rage, if anything it made it bubble and pop.
"Hermione…" He murmured quietly, soft shock and blood slurring his speech - she'd split his lip. Perhaps even broken his nose.
"Don't." She bit darkly as she made to follow the group carrying Draco. Ron's hand twitched towards the girl as she passed him, though the erratic, seething energy surrounding her followed by the murderous look in her eyes, halted him. Scraped bark paralyzing his limbs and forcing his eyes to drop to the floor, his ears burning in shame. Ron didn't consider himself a violent person, but this act of unbridled, barbaric energy was enough to skew his perspective.
Once again, Hermione walked away, leaving a very stunned Ronald Weasley in her wake.
After an hour or so of waiting outside the medical wing of Hogwarts and receiving a very intense telling off from McGonnagal, it became apparent to students and teachers alike, that Hermione Granger for once, held no interest in returning to classes. However, with the medi-witches refusing her access to the medical wing whilst they worked on the still unconscious Draco Malfoy, Hermione had instead chosen to brood in the hallways. The thought of what had happened still made the young witch's blood boil as she replayed choppy, ocean eyes glazing over followed by Draco's body being thrown back into the opposite wall. Instinctively, Hermione's hands curled. She took two calming breaths before unclenching her hands, smooth crescents already fading from her skin. Deciding that the most productive thing she could do, would be to work on her, 'failing project'. Yes, some work would do Hermione a world of good. After treading the halls back to her room, Hermione gathered a few books and a writing pad for Bellatrix's session. Her gaze lingered on her notepad, thumbing the binder as her mind wandered to the conversations she had recently shared with the dark witch.
Ron wasn't right was he?
No. Despite everything, a part of her was truly beginning to believe she could make a difference, she knew she could, they didn't see the difference between Bellatrix Lestrange and Bellatrix Black. Merlin, she was still trying to work out where the lines were herself. But she had seen glimpses, small ones of the girls past self, the person she used to be, and that was enough to make a start. She had seen it the first time she met this witch, and again when she had driven a dagger through her skin, except that time it was shrouded in a glaze of mania and chaos. But it was still there, a star in an endless mire of night. She just wished her friends could've seen the dark witch's fascination with interior design, with time magic, even just the look in her eyes as she spied the muggle books Hermione had left her. Hell, even at the trials, that brief look of regret and exhaustion was enough to sway Hermione. In fact that exact look before the trial was precisely what did sway her in the end. It was the sole reason she believed Bellatrix could change. If they could have seen it themselves, that would've surely blown their minds and at least made them think twice. She knew what someone looked like when there was no hope left for them, when someone was so shrouded in darkness that not even a shadow of them remained. That was not this dark witch. Honestly the amount of progress Bellatrix was making in such a short time was incredible considering how recently she was killing and torturing people. They couldn't see how necessary trust was if this was to work. If Hermione was honest, the dark witch was always on her mind, even before the rehabilitation started, even before the war. She refused to look any more into that though, chalking it down simply to the fact that the woman was terrifying and had tortured her. Though she knew deep down, that even before she was tortured, before this war and time travel, she thought of the dark witch on more than one occasion. She thought of Lavender and Ron and immediately decided that was something she needed no more thoughts on, so she dismissed it. If that's how Ron viewed things, then she would give it no further thought, give him no further thought. She used to see him as a brother, a great friend; at this present moment, all she saw was a deluded arsehole. Crookshanks hopped up onto her dresser purring loudly, drawing her attention away from her pool of thoughts. Smiling softly, Hermione began to thread her fingers through his thick fur.
"Hey, Crookshanks." She cooed softly, nuzzling into the shaggy felines ginger fur. "I think I'll introduce you to the big bad wolf next week. What do you think?" At Crookshanks noncommittal meow she giggled giving the slightly tubby cat one more pat before leaving the dorms.
Bellatrix languidly stretched across her couch. Her hair dangling down the arm of the chair as she read one of the books the muggleborn had brought her. She had quickly grown bored sitting around the house doing nothing but glaring at the titles. Speaking to her niece had been entertaining for all of five seconds, their ages were similar enough to have an engaging conversation, but the girl was too bubbly for her liking. The only interesting tidbit she got out of Nymphadora was some rather laughable moments of her love life. It seemed her cousin was more than a little awkward when it came to love. And then there was the issue of no house elves; she couldn't go outside and she only knew how to make cereal and toast so cooking was out of the question. In summary, Bellatrix was completely and utterly bored. Derived of all entertainment and mental challenges. All she had were her thoughts, and they tended to prove to be dangerous if she stewed in them too long, especially about a certain brunette. So, obviously, she had no choice but to read the muggleborn garbage. Although she wouldn't dare admit out loud that not only were the books interesting but they helped...a lot. But she hated being in one position for too long and her thoughts as of late had started to drift back to a certain mudbaby and when their next session would be.
Bellatrix didn't know what to make of the girl; ever since she fought the girl in the department of mysteries she had piqued her interest. If she was honest, the girl had probably caught her eye well before then too. Something about the girls magic and aura pulled at Bellatrix, it made her own magic thrash beneath her skin. The feeling had given her pause that day. For a brief moment, Bellatrix swore she saw something other than red, and then the first curse was thrown and she remembered she had a job to do. The Dark Lord especially reminded her that same night after they failed to return with the prophecy. She shuddered at the memory of the Dark Lord pointing his wand at her, his eyes fresh, smouldering lava bubbling with disappointment and disgust as he sneered. The cruciatus curse didn't even leave his lips as the sensation of a hundred tiny spiders crawling up and around her body sent her mind into shock, their fangs sending electricity through each and every pore whilst their silk filled her mouth leaving her unable to even scream.
'Bellatrix.'
Suddenly she was seven, sitting in her manor's shed, chained to one of the walls, her father's wand thrust under her chin, the same look of unbridled disgust in his eyes.
"You should be thanking me, Bellatrix. I'm going to make you perfect."
Bellatrix sat up, book dropped and forgotten as an overwhelming churning in her stomach threw her into panic and she started to pant. Her heart began to thud painfully in her chest, as if wanting to tear its way through her ribs. "Are you listening, Bellatrix?" Her mind was a vortex of chains and sharp teeth, painful curses and lashings and then worse, the cold breath of the dementors. Her pupils dilated and suddenly the room felt too small, too suffocating; her body felt constrictive, far too tight. Her skin was burning. Closing her eyes she imagined running next to a river in the woods and counting how many trees she could run past, the deer, the smell of pine and the sounds of the water rushing nearby. She ran through every single riddle she could think of. She thought of the sun, the moon-
"Bellatrix?"
She got to fifteen trees before she felt a pressure on her forearms, instinctively she reached out and slammed the intruder into the ground, teeth bared. The scent of fear dripped off the creature beneath her and it sent a thrill up her spine. A growl, deep and hungry resonated in her chest as she stared at doe eyes beneath her.
"Bellatrix." It whimpered. Bellatrix cocked her head, as recognition flooded her senses and the shape before her began to look more and more human. She blinked once. Twice. A third time and her eyes focused on the present, not the past, nor the forest. She stared down into chocolate. Her chest heaved as it took a moment for the rest of her body to return to the present. 'Granger.' Bellatrix thought briefly. Staring into the younger woman's eyes, Bellatrix made one of her first mistakes since being here.
She took a deep breath.
And it was sublime. It was sinful how utterly delectable the younger witch smelled. It was a delicate balance of chocolate and strawberries, of pine wood in the fresh mist of rain and it tinged the air so heavily that it cascaded over her lungs like chilled water down a parched throat. Her eyes fluttered momentarily as another, more possessive but equally hungry growl tumbled from her lips unbidden. She couldn't fathom how she never picked up on the scent of the girl before. It was all over the fucking house. For a few minutes, the two stared at each other in silence, only their breathing filled the room. After two minutes, Hermione shifted her arms uncomfortably and Bellatrix's eyes tore away from the woman beneath her and to where her hands were currently curled around her wrists; nails slightly digging into the pale skin. Hard enough to draw blood, it would definitely leave a mark, but thankfully she hadn't cut the skin. Her grip tightened in response to Hermione before her eyes widened and she immediately loosened her hold but made no move to get up off of her, fear keeping her locked above the witch. Hermione flexed her fingers experimentally before tentatively removing one hand from the death eater's less painful grip. This definitely wasn't what the bookworm expected when she returned to the cabin. Hesitantly, she lifted her hand to Bellatrix's curls, her fingertips brushing against the darker haired woman's jaw, Bellatrix gave no reaction other than the slight flare of her nostrils as she sucked in air at the touch. A soft, unsure rumble lingering in the dark woman's chest.
'Remarkable' Hermione thought. She couldn't help herself, she had far too many questions.
"What are you running from?"
Three sharp knocks echoed through the room followed by Tonk's concerned vocalisation of 'Hermione?'- clearly the young auror had heard the, more than likely very loud thud of Hermione's back crashing against the floor. Finally, Bellatrix's brain caught up with her actions and she let go, scurrying back in a frantic panic. Realisation like ice water from a river drowning her as she came to the conclusion that she had just completely and irrevocably, fucked herself over. Hermione watched closely as she sat up, Bellatrix's eyes dropped to the floor as heat flooded her cheeks in humiliation. Her nails or… rather claws dug deep into the floorboards beneath her.
"Hermione?" Tonks called again, the door handle beginning to turn before Hermione finally moved. Rising quickly, she strode to the door and opened it, only slightly. Smiling at her now blue haired friend, Hermione spoke, irritation colouring her tone.
"Everything's fine, Tonks. Bellatrix was messing with the table again and decided a temper tantrum was the perfect way to convince me to allow her to move it permanently." Hermione sighed as Tonks began to laugh in amusement and relief, the girls hair blooming into a lilac pink.
"Oh, alright. Okay cool, was just checking. I thought… well, nevermind." The other girl stammered. "Uh… call me if you need me, remember." She shrugged and waved as Hermione shut the door. Bellatrix sat stunned, unsure of what to do or say. Dumbfounded, she watched as the girl sat in the armchair, shifting a few times uncomfortably due to her likely bruised back. It took a few seconds for her to clock the brunettes raised brow and expectant gaze. Swallowing, Bellatrix rose from the floor, more than embarrassed, and took a seat on the couch opposite Hermione. The girl fiddled with her shirt before summoning a notepad and pen.
"So… what? You're some kind of werewolf? An animagus maybe?" She started, excitement tinging her babbling thoughts as she began twirling her pen absentmindedly. "This actually makes a lot of sense." Bellatrix bit her cheek nervously and nearly laughed at the ludicrousness of the situation. The girl didn't demand an apology or threaten her with Azkaban. Unconsciously, the fluffy black tail that had sprouted due her flashback, thumped against the leather of the couch. Hermione tracked its movements diligently, curiosity eating away at her core.
"Do… we have to talk about this right now?" Bellatrix answered, she didn't know if she could handle this conversation without being thrown into a slew of bitter memories, and with the enticing scent wafting from the brunette, she could barely focus on taking regular breaths. Bellatrix allowed her eyes to flick back to the muggleborn, she was appraising her and it made Bellatrix feel extremely exposed. She couldn't allow that so she tilted her chin arrogantly, trying to gain some confidence back.
Hermione smiled at the petulance and blew some hair out of her face. "Would you rather discuss it with the auror standing outside your door?" Now that had Bellatrix stumped. Sure Nymphadora was her niece, but she severely doubted the young girl would brush something like the 'deranged ex-death eater can also shapeshift!' under the rug. Bellatrix grit her teeth. Hermione's smile fell, and a seriousness that Bellatrix hadn't seen since the day the witch agreed to vouch for her, claimed the girl. "We don't have to discuss it now, but I would like to when you are ready. I take it you also don't want to talk about why you were crying? I won't tell anyone about this. I promise, Bellatrix." Hermione poured every ounce of honesty and conviction into her words, imploring the dark witch to trust her. At the mention of tears, Bellatrix roughly wiped her cheeks, eyes hardening.
"Why?" Bellatrix frowned. "You could end all of this. Ship me off to Azkaban. I attacked you, you could give me the dementors kiss and that would make more sense than you keeping this a secret." Bellatrix was growing impatient with the girl. Impatient and frustrated. A part of her was still waiting for McGonagall and a gaggle of aurors to smash through the windows. Hermione crossed her legs as she thought about her response, pursing her lips she eventually gave a non-committal shrug.
"Look, this whole thing is meant to be about trust." Hermione folded her hands in her lap contemplatively, rubbing at her wrists slightly. Guilt stabbed weakly at Bellatrix, however she quickly chose to maintain a mask of indifference, with only a frown of distrust and confusion etched in her features. "It's not that I'm not thinking about giving you up. It's just that I'm also thinking about how you didn't kill me. Bellatrix Lestrange would have torn out my throat there and then. But you, Bellatrix Black, didn't."
Bellatrix lips pulled into a snarl. "We're one and the same you idiot. Don't you get that? Both those Bellatrix's are me! I was never a Lestrange but that doesn't mean that the things I did under that name don't exist, I still did those things!" Bellatrix sat forward angrily, claws tearing into leather as her frustration started to culminate, slicking hotly through her veins.
"Bellatrix-" Hermione tried before the dark witch continued ranting unhindered.
"Don't you get it, you stupid little mudblood! I am a monster!" Bellatrix's ears pricked forward as she began to breathe heavily. Green rims around the woman's pupils spilling like ink across black paper as Bellatrix's control began to slip. "You said it yourself, muddy." Bellatrix kissed her teeth as she glared at Hermione. "You are-"
"Reconsidering." Hermione finished stubbornly. Even when she tried to be compassionate and understanding, the dark witch just stirred her emotions and riled her up. Bellatrix stared in disbelief.
"What."
"I... am reconsidering." She repeated carefully. "I think that you truly are capable of great things, Bellatrix. If you are willing to take those steps. Perhaps by telling me more about this." Hermione took a calming breath as she watched the other witch. When she had walked in and saw Bellatrix hunched over, black fur, sharp teeth and all she honestly didn't know how to react. What struck her most were the woman's eyes. Her eyes were a burning gold. "You don't need to tell me everything. You can answer only what you want to." Hermione murmured the last part softly as she fell into warm, golden eyes. Bellatrix felt the storm within her settle slowly. Completely dissipating as the witch chose to say 'great things' instead of change. It actually caused a low burning warmth to tickle her chest. The simple fact that Hemione Granger believed that she could be a good person, could do not only good, but great things without changing who she was at her core was… bewildering. Eventually, Bellatrix huffed.
"I get to ask questions too." She finally relented. Hermione was surprised by Bellatrix's answer and easy co-operation and smiled as she made a few notes.
"Of course. I'll go first, if you don't mind?" Bellatrix gave Hermione a calculating look before sighing and nodding her consent. If she were truly to be free of this place, she would have to follow the girls rules. Besides, what harm was there in actually sharing just a little if she could also dig into the girls history with time travel? "How can you manage and maintain a half transformation?" Hermione started eagerly, pen fervently meeting paper as she wrote, the scratching eventually coming to a stop, waiting for a response. Hermione had an inkling she knew what Bellatrix was, but she needed information.
"Well, for starters, I'm pretty sure I am a werewolf, but not the same kind that the ministry know of. The moon does have a sway over me, but I've long since learned to control myself." Bellatrix glanced out the window in the room nervously, her fingers unconsciously playing with the fur of her tail. "But animagus seemed an easier answer for it at the time since I don't change into an ugly, uncontrollable beast every moon, although the bloodlust is higher on a full moon and having creature blood would make me impure. I can do a partial transformation whenever I want though, I don't even need to think about it." She paused and scratched behind her neck, doubt swirling in her heart. "There are times when it's harder to… control though, when I get angry for example, when I'm in pain… it's a delicate balance. Pain for control, and pain to lose control." Hermione sensed there was more to be told but remained respectfully silent as Bellatrix took to cleaning her nails, which were now normal length and less razor sharp. Her ears were the next to go back to normal, almost sinking back into the skin of her human ears, the fur dissipating into her hair, followed by her tail disappearing behind her. The tail was new, she hadn't seen that before. Her eyes were the last to turn, gold simply melting into black iron. Hermione wrote it all down, utterly captivated. If the young witch was honest, she found the whole thing entirely riveting. She had minimal experiences with these kinds of werewolves and this was the chance to figure them out right in front of her.
"Fascinating. Truly." Hermione murmured to herself quietly. Complete captivation lacing her voice and Bellatrix shifted uncomfortably. Now that she had calmed down and put the woman's scent at the back of her mind, she had taken the other witch in properly. The first thing she noticed was the dishevelled state of her hair, the next was the winding redness on the brunette's wrists that were caused by Bellatrix's grip. However there was a more purplish colour to the girls knuckles that definitely wasn't caused by her. Bellatrix debated with herself, she knew what she wanted to ask. She was most curious about the time travelling the woman did, but that seemed like barred territory still. Something that she definitely wouldn't be sharing at this moment, however the bruises on her knuckles seemed to be personal as well. Bellatrix stewed for another minute before ultimately dragging her eyes back up to patient chocolate eyes. Something inside Bellatrix flared.
"What did you to your hand?" She asked. It was a simple observation and it made the girl feel uneasy. Good. Bellatrix was taking back the reins and control of the conversation. Hermione's eyes drifted towards her hand before back to Bellatrix lazily. She felt no regret in punching Ron. Flexing her hand, she shrugged indifferently.
"I punched a weasel." Hermione said shortly.
Bellatrix stared in confusion before a full and pure belly laugh overwhelmed her. She couldn't believe the witch before her. "You punched a weasel? Why?" Bellatrix couldn't help herself, it was too funny. Hermione's gaze lingered on the laughing witch, she didn't think the woman knew how to laugh without it being a cackle but this was… unfiltered. It was pure humour and enjoyment. It was like bells. Momentarily, Hermione forgot about her anger towards Ron. She forgot about the project. She forgot Bellatrix Lestrange. She smiled to herself, Ron was wrong. Bellatrix had hope. She was impressed.
"One question at a time." She smirked as Bellatrix's expression soured. "Okay, since you're some kind of werewolf, I take it that your were-form in full transformation is also dog-like?"
"A wolf." Bellatrix grinned ferally, onyx burning brightly "I'm no mangy dog, pet." Bellatrix stretched lazily, enjoying the way rosy warmth stole winter from the girls cheeks. Smirking giddily, she reached over to pick up her discarded book. The change of atmosphere did wonders for Bellatrix's mood. The woman really was like a thunderstorm, her emotions and reactions were always unexpected and had a tendency to be wild whether it was anger or amusement. And at the drop of a pin she could switch between murderous and jovial. Hermione's pen had slipped at the pet name, causing a smudge and she knew the other woman enjoyed her mistake. Although try as she might, she couldn't deny the way her heart had skipped delicately at that look in the other woman's eyes. Hermione hesitated before she continued making notes, writing off the way her body reacted as fear.
"So… why did you hit the blood-traitor?"
To say that Bellatrix wasn't expecting the outburst the little witch had in regards to her friend, was an understatement. She was outright stunned by the muggleborns' behaviour, how at ease the younger woman was around her was unexpected, but it did show she was trying. Bellatrix hadn't met someone who really tried to get to know her, sure it was for the purpose of rehabilitation but she could have just given up. They talked for another hour or three, time irrelevant to their conversation. Neither women noticed the sky's light wash denim slip into the darker silk of winter evenings. Nor the clouds fading into simple sky and the breeze fanning just a little colder.
Bellatrix frowned as Hermione recounted how the filthy weasel harmed her nephew. It spun a dark, protective anger which began to encase her, she wanted to rip apart the boy for what he'd done. Hermione, as if sensing the more dangerous change in Bellatrix's nature summoned a plate of finger sandwiches and tea. The witch hadn't looked like she'd eaten much since her stay and getting worked up again was sure to leave her exhausted. Bellatrix eyed the food ravenously and went to reach for one of the meat packed ones. Before she made contact, she looked at Hermione unsurely. This surprised Hermione but she quickly nodded, watching as she happily snatched two off the plate and began inhaling them, frothing homicidal thoughts forgotten.
"Wow, you're acting like you haven't eaten in days." Hermione's brow furrowed and she tapped her pen against her chin uneasily. "You did eat something last night right?" Bellatrix didn't meet her gaze as she scarfed down another sandwich. "The last few days? I'm sure I packed the fridge and cupboards with enough food. Have you not been eating?" Again, Bellatrix simply picked up another sandwich, with this one she ate more slowly, chewing quietly as she blatantly ignored Hermione. "Bellatrix?"
"Bloody hell, do you have an off switch?" Bellatrix's lips curled into a sneer as she snapped her teeth at the younger witch. "The answer is clearly no. Okay? I haven't." Bellatrix crossed her arms and sunk into her seat. Hermione grit her teeth, the skin over her knuckles stretching thinly over bone, narrowing her eyes she leaned forward ready to respond before the sight of Bellatrix's lower lip jutting out ever so slightly halted every insult that sat on her tongue. The woman sat grumpily pouting, her eyes darting between food and the floor, black curls loose and wild cascading down her shoulders. Despite not eating, Bellatrix had taken a shower, and her curls were vollumous, her skin had a brighter colour to it and she looked a lot less like death. Hermione briefly wondered if she had lost her mind. She could admit that the other witch was beautiful. And with her lip pouted like that, she looked adorable. But that was all. Nothing more. Hermione had not lost her mind… at least that's what she kept telling herself.
Hermione sucked in a breath as her chest tightened and her cheeks flushed a darker pink. She blinked a few times as she huffed in an attempt to clear the feeling, previous irritation with the dark witch forgotten. Sitting up straighter, Hermione pulled her hair up into a messy bun, anxiety settling deep in her stomach as she tried to rationalise her behaviour. "Nothing to say, mudbaby? Hmph, good." Bellatrix chortled, pleased with having seemingly stunned the girl into silence. Hermione pursed her lips and sighed softly.
"Why?"
Bellatrix's eyes widened and she glanced at the brunette, a mixture of shame, astonishment and bewilderment swirling in her gaze. Chewing on her cheek she looked away, nails tapping absentmindedly against her thigh as the seconds ticked by.
"I don't know how to cook." She said scathingly, lathering as much venom and contempt into the words in an attempt to derail the bratty bookworm from continuing this line of questioning. Hermione sat back, quietly observing the dark witch who was trying very hard not to fiddle.
"Okay. I'll see if I can arrange something for you, I doubt they'd give you a house elf." Hermione paused, mischief running rampant in doe eyes. Bellatrix wasn't sure how she felt about that look, but it made the hair on her neck stand up, whether it was excitement or nerves, she couldn't tell. "Or… If you agree, I could teach you?" Hermione grinned at herself, this was a great bonding exercise and another way to learn more about the other woman. And to eventually find out information pertaining to Voldemort of course. She almost laughed at herself, she seriously needed to stop forgetting that.
Bellatrix stared incredulously at the so called 'brightest-witch-of-her-age'. In this moment, with the witch's brown eyes alight with determination; body tense with excitement, complete with an infectious smile lined with hope and from what she could smell, blackberry lip gloss, it was impossible not to see how the pretty little muggleborn ended up in Gryffindor. Bellatrix's mind went into overdrive at that parting thought, and she decided to eliminate those thoughts then and there. A small growl teased her throat and she knew for a fact that if her tail was visible, it would be doing the unfathomable. Wagging. That was absurd. Being so badly affected by another person's energy. It was preposterous and she quashed the flurry of hope and thrilling trepidation that tiptoed along her chest and danced along her ribs.
"You are perhaps the strangest witch I have ever met, Hermione Granger." Bellatrix leaned back, kicking her feet up on the table lazily and sporting an arrogant, lopsided grin, enjoying the surprise splayed across the girls features. She had meant to call the brunette a mudblood but that no longer settled right with the dark witch. She was quickly realising that if wasn't for the war, the mudbaby would have made great company and she was, in her own right, remarkable. Bellatrix respected the woman before her, more than that, she was realising more and more just how much the other witch did, and was continuing to do for her. Hermione Granger was truly remarkable. The muggleborn, despite everything, was truly helping her, more than any pureblood had in her life. More than her family. More than the dark lord. And that merited a willingness to cooperate and an ounce of trust. Although that didn't mean she would stop teasing her though. Bellatrix was beginning to take great pleasure in teasing Hermione. "Have I finally caught your tongue, pet?"
Hermione bit her lip lightly as the darker haired woman snapped her teeth playfully at her. A warmth settled across her chest, rosewater washed over paper cheeks and Hermione fought against the blush that was now spilling across her chest. She was used to being mocked, ridiculed, called names. This playful banter wasn't unexpected, Bellatrix was a sarcastic personality wrapped in dark humour with a bow of senseless flirting. She knew that when the witch was in school she was notorious for having the student population fall at her feet, whether that was quite literally from a spell or from falling for her charm.
The sarcasm and humour, Hermione was used to, Bellatrix had been known for teasing people in class and pulling pranks…but the low, sensual undercurrent that lined her words and curved up along dark pink lips was definitely new and her heart stuttered in response. Swallowing roughly, she leant forward and picked up her cup of tea, sipping on the soothing liquid to hide her embarrassment.
"I'll admit you caught me by surprise. So, is that a yes?" Hermione met dark eyes over the rim of her cup, again her heart made that ridiculous thundering. Bellatrix was staring at her, eyes alight with mischief and an intensity she couldn't quite place. She tightened her hold on her cup in response when she realised that Bellatrix could hear the embarrassing rhythm of her heartbeat. In return, Bellatrix simply smiled wolfishly.
"Sure thing, muddy. You'll be like a big, irritating house elf." Bellatrix cackled.
"Great, when I come by later we can get started. For now, are you okay to continue?"
"I suppose."
Hermione grinned excited to get some work with Bellatrix done. The information the woman could give her had endless possibilities. She briefly wondered if Bellatrix was some kind of new species of were-creature. Almost every feature was similar to the ones she had met in a different timeline, except the tail. She would have to come back to that thought another time.
"When did you first transform?" Hermione quickly returned to writing with a soft, contemplative hum.
"When I was five, it was unintentional. I shredded my sheets." Bellatrix responded despondent as she turned a page of her book, although her eyes barely paid any attention to the actual words. She chewed on her lip as she thought of what to ask. "What's your favourite spell?"
"Oh well um, I find appare vestigium an interesting spell." Hermione murmured, unsure if Bellatrix would belittle her for choice or lose interest like most others when she talked about spells.
Bellatrix blinked in surprise, drumming her fingers across the pages of the book as she observed the witch. "An unusual choice, most people would prefer an offense or defence spell over something like tracking. Although, I find that that particular spell relies too much on the premise that the person being tracked has conducted in magical activity." At this, something ignited in Hermione's eyes; bright and blinding and all encompassing, and she leaned forward excitedly towards Bellatrix.
"I completely agree! Given the chance I would love to play around with the schematics of the spell in order to create something that doesn't simply rely on the target using magic!" Hermione was thoroughly enraptured, endless possibilities, and someone to discuss them with? Her heart raced as she flitted through new concepts and ideas, like a hummingbird latching onto the next flower, greedily and avidly lapping at the nectar there. Her hands grasped the edge of her notepad and pen dangerously tight. "Sometimes I feel that wizards and witches alike, rely far too much on magic. For example, with this spell what if you were tracking a muggle?" For a split moment, she thought she had gone too far, she had just disrespected wizardkind. Yet, despite her blunder, Bellatrix for her part only looked pensive. Perhaps even… engrossed. And the moment that Hermione had finished speaking, the dark witch had leant forward, her eyebrows drawn together in concentration, amassing all of her own ideas together.
"I see your point, it would be beneficial if you could track them the way muggles use dogs to track game through forests and snow." Bellatrix mulled before she snapped her fingers in excitement, a rapacious grin tearing at her stoic features, as if she had caught some sort of elusive prey. "What if you could use something, say... a personal belonging that the spell could absorb and turn into the gold dust from the original spell?" Hermione was astounded. As if Bellatrix had hit her with a stupify except this paralysation was brimming with elation and wonder. That could be a very promising idea and a grin of her own claimed her lips as enthused laughter spilled shortly after.
"Yes! That's a fantastic idea! The item, so long as it's something personal or even if it's something they use a lot. Something as simple as a watch or even clothing! So, that in the same way that dogs track scents, the spell can use these items to find the person!" Hermione's breath was coming out in short, laboured breaths in her rush to get her words out, a sense of euphoric trepidation skirting across her skin as she realised that herself and Bellatrix were both hunched over the table, a breath away from each other, eyes reflecting an insurmountable desire for knowledge. Hermione briefly pondered over how she could get lost in the colour of oleaginous ink and black oil pastels. Bellatrix gently tilted her head to the side, flushed with curiosity, appraising the brown haired witch, gaze drifting across the pretty brunette's features, her eyes, her jaw, her lips, before a cheeky grin pulled at her lips.
"Do you know what else?" Bellatrix hummed deviously, breath teasing over Hermione's lips as she purposefully moved just an inch close.
"What?" Hermione murmured, lost in thoughts of spell-work and magic and black curls.
"It already exists."
"I- you… what?" Hermione blinked as she sat back in surprise.
"It's called Avenseguim. Although most people don't remember it or use it since the people they track tend to be magical beings. It's most likely been erased from your textbooks, from what I know, the purebloods had it struck from the spell records." Bellatrix continued, enjoying the way the witch blushed, her lips parted in open shock as embarrassment settled in.
"Oh."
Hermione looked down in shame, she had done her research, there were mentions of similar spells but nothing like the one she had thought of. If what Bellatrix was saying was true then it's no surprise she didn't come across it, but even during her travels she didn't find anything. Was she sloppy? There were many things Hermione was, but sloppy was not one of them. So how did she miss it?
Bellatrix observed as the witch lost herself in her thoughts, it seemed her little revelation caused something to malfunction in the young witch. She almost felt bad for the brunette, even though the spell already existed, the muddling had some very interesting ideas and theories that if applied correctly she could create some very unique spells. As much as Bellatrix wanted to deny it, Hermione Granger was indeed the brightest witch she had ever met. Brown eyes finally met hers, a fire burning behind them, a hunger. Now this was interesting, Bellatrix smirked at the challenge in the witch's eyes. How cute.
"Could you teach me it?" Bellatrix's smirk melted into a warm, considering smile and she hummed in approval. Hermione Granger was stalwart in the face of adversity, and instead of rage at not knowing something or throwing a tantrum, she wanted to improve. Smart.
"I'm beginning to see why you're the brightest witch of your age."
Heat furiously tiptoed across Hermione's cheeks as she leaned away from the dark witch. She only now realised how close they were. Swallowing frantically, she sat back fully. Her fingers twitching and thumb absentmindedly brushing along the clicker of her pen. She coughed loudly to clear her throat in a weak attempt at covering the red slowly dusting the tops of her ears and prayed Bellatrix didn't notice, yet a cursory glance at the witch showed she was giving Hermione her full attention, swirling black eyes tinged with a gold rim. She really couldn't believe the conversation she had with Bellatrix to be real. Bellatrix was charming, funny and intelligent. She had more to her than what people thought, she would have been a fantastic ally, a truly exceptional and formidable member. Except she was an enemy.
Reality fell upon Hermione harshly. She had a job to do. This talking was meant to lead to answers. Hermione was getting distracted. Back on track, she had to get back on track. Chewing her cheek lightly, she wondered how far she could take this. A glance at the witch showed relaxed muscles reclining contently against the length of the couch, hair tousled uncaringly over the side and an arm draped haphazardly across her stomach. She was much more lax in her approach to their communication than before. Hermione knew her next question would be a thorn in the woman's side. So, softly, her voice just above a whisper she dared to ask. "When I found you earlier… you looked like you were in so much pain. I didn't know if it was some sort of panic attack or if you were faking it." Bellatrix tensed, the beginnings of a sneer winding its way across her lips. Well… there was no time like the present. Hermione took a steadying breath. "But then you were mumbling something about your father and a master, the dark lord… and it was like I could feel your pain. It wasn't just tangible… it was like I was there and I just... What did they do to you?"
The reaction was immediate. Seamlessly, bristled tufts of fur stood up, claws tore into cushions and a tail lashed violently. Her lips pulled up to expose elongated canines that punctuated her words and gold devoured black. Hermione's heart thudded painfully as she tried not to tremble, noting the change down. When Bellatrix parted her lips, her tone was tempestuous. It caused a shiver to race along Hermione's pores.
"No."
"Bellatrix-"
"Ask something else or sod off, Granger." A growl decorated Hermione's last name tenderly, like a 'beware of the dog' sign hanging on a picketed fence. It was a promise of something deeper, something angrier should she continue. Hermione gulped and worried her cheek before she crossed her legs and wrote a different question, ignoring the plain threat.
"Does Voldemort…" The sound of cloth tearing caused her to swallow, but she grit her teeth, refusing to be deterred. "Um, does he-who-shall-not-be-named know about this?"
"No." It resounded in the air. Clear and heavy, pregnant with agitation and no room for more questions. Yet, Hermione prodded once more, an arrow of Gryffindor courage drawn from its quiver, or perhaps it was foolishness, either way she wanted to know, needed to.
"No, as in he doesn't know? Or no, as in you won't tell me?" Hermione ventured, fingers tracing circles across parchment, trying to remain nonchalant whilst staring into eyes as slick as oil. At least her eyes hadn't changed. Bellatrix sneered before she changed her position, choosing to sit cross-legged, resting her elbow on a knee, her chin in her palm, a look of total apathy set in her gaze. She let her eyes fall to the brunette's nails absentmindedly digging grooves into her notebook, a sure sign of anxiety yet the witch's eyes never strayed from her. She licked her lips enjoying the challenge. An ear twitched.
Normally, Bellatrix would scorn, bite, bring a storm. But, she was exhausted from the fighting and arguing. Besides, surprising her captors was just as fun as scaring them, her tail swished.
"You've just asked two questions isn't it my turn?"
The look on the muggleborns face was priceless and Bellatrix grinned triumphantly as the girl began to choke on air, words sputtering from her mouth, her voice hitching and breaking into a soprano like a broken kettle.
"W-well, technically you didn't answer either of them"
"You think you can get answers from me based on a technicality?" Bellatrix teased enthusiastically. Hermione blinked in surprise but her brain had finally caught up to Bellatrix's intentions and she narrowed her eyes. Bellatrix was choosing to play with her, it was better than torturing her or violence but it grated Hermione's sense of pride. Two could play at this game, the dark witch wanted to keep her on her toes, she could, no. She would, match her step for step.
"How old are you?"
"What?"
Hermione smirked as Bellatrix went still. Even her tail had stopped its motions. "You won't answer my important questions so let's talk about something else." She continued smugly, clearly baffling the older witch.
"And my age interests you?" Bellatrix asked incredulously, eyebrows raised.
Hermione rifled through her notes in thought before she gave an evasive shrug. "Well the fact that you have both magical being and creature blood running through you interests me. And I'm certain it's effects on your body will be fascinating."
"We don't know what blood runs through me." Bellatrix rebutted, flashing fangs frustratedly.
"So we'll try and find out."
Bellatrix blinked in stupefaction. A very watery blush painted her cheeks. Very rarely had anyone told her 'we'. She wasn't picked to be a partner a lot during school. Sure she was good at quidditch, she surpassed even the most talented beaters, ascending the ranks quickly but even then, Bellatrix was never part of a team. Not in the conventional sense anyways, people feared her so did what she said therefore she was either always leading or taking orders from those that she herself feared. Her father, the Dark Lord. She didn't work with anybody, and no one ever offered. Her fur flattened and her claws retracted as she peered at the woman before her. Her gaze softened imperceptibly and she huffed.
"Don't you know you're not supposed to ask a woman her age?"
"Please?" Hermione smiled softly, disarmingly. A smile so soft, so inviting and so undeniably beautiful that it was as if she didn't even know the power behind it. Bellatrix's heart began a sporadic dance and to avoid making it worse she averted her gaze and growled, disgruntled.
"Ughhh." Bellatrix groaned rubbing her face before looking at the woman between her fingers. "Fine. I'm twenty, or at least I think I am. I'm not 100 if that's what you think; although Azkaban did do a number on me, my age didn't change and I didn't really look as dead as the others."
"Twenty? God with the war it made everyone seem so much older."
Bellatrix raised her brown, a smirk already forming. "Did you think I was a lot older? Do I look in my forties, pet?"
Bellatrix thoroughly enjoyed the scarlet that feather-dusted along the witch's cheeks, a smirk tugging at her lips watching the floundering response. "No! I just- I-"
"Wanted to know if I was too old for you?" Bellatrix winked playfully and Hermione blushed darkly in response and before she could say anything Bellatrix raised her hand. "I said twenty. If I have to repeat myself this will get ugly for you, pet"
"Right right." Hermione mumbled, embarrassed. "Fascinating, I'm assuming that's something to do with healing and aging. The death eaters sucking your soul would normally age your body further along than it would have done naturally. But with your abilities I imagine it didn't have as detrimental an affect?"
Bellatrix flexed her claws experimentally, watching the ceiling light glint along the curves. "That's the theory, yes."
"Fascinating."
Bellatrix groaned before sneering. "Do you know any other words?" Bellatrix sniffed disdainfully at Hermione who simply smiled, a wondrous look in her eyes.
"Apparently not when it comes to you."
Silence sputtered back into existence. Hermione flushed darkly at the unexpected admittance, breaking eye contact with the dark witch. Bellatrix watched carefully, beyond confused at the younger woman's words, a very watery pink scattering across her cheeks. She was enjoying talking, it felt good. She didn't want it to end just yet so she decided to grin devilishly, slamming her hand against the table causing the plate to shudder. Hermione jolted in surprise at the resounding smack, heart racing as she looked at the source, raven curls bouncing with mirth.
"You're absolutely right, with these big teeth and claws, I truly am a specimen!" Bellatrix flashed her teeth with a big grin, raising her hands dramatically to show the length of the claws and their points. "Do you have any more of these chicken filled sandwiches? Also, I want more sugar." Bellatrix chirped, dragging a claw against an empty porcelain plate.
"Perhaps if you asked a tad nicer, you know you could say please?"
"Do not make me go back to Azkaban over some sugar for my tea."
"I'm sure they would welcome you with open arms." Hermione finally laughed, tension ebbing out of her frame as she reclined against her seat. A slow tingle swam across Bellatrix's chest at the sound and her tail swayed unconsciously behind her.
"Yes, the dark lord knows."
"What?" Hermione breathed, stunned.
"What did I just say?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I just…"
Bellatrix sighed. "He's aware of everything, he had someone who was… like me as an advisor." Bellatrix sighed, resting a cheek against her knuckles. "Everyone thought creature blood was undesirable to him, my father tried to sell my abilities as an animagus but the dark lord knew better." Bellatrix sighed, opening her palm to Hermione so she could show the girl her claws more closely. Hesitantly, Hermione slowly reached out to trace the tip of her finger along a claw. "He had his advisor train me, they were an alpha, I was initiated into his pack although I didn't really have a choice. After that, I was kind of… stuck I guess. Father didn't want me back and the pack was my new family, you protect the pack. And even though Dimitri was the alpha, he followed the dark lords orders." Glancing out the window in the room, Bellatrix caught the ethereal gleam of silk in the moonlight. The owner scurrying across the makeshift zipline to the more sturdy structure of its web. The moon was at a high and if she focused hard enough, she could just make out the ruffling of wings, settling in for the night. 'When had it gotten so late?' She thought sullenly, a pang of disappointment striking her briefly. "And after that it was simple, kill or be killed." Hermione traced the length of one of Bellatrix's claws, the skin of her palm and then to the top of a different claw.
"Did he... ever make you do things as a werewolf?"
"Another time, pet. We've been talking for a while and I'm sure you'll need to return to your dorm."
Hermione cast a cursory glance at the clock on the wall. Her eyes widened, it was ten past eleven and she let go of Bellatrix's hand. "Oh… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"Stop that, it's annoying." Bellatrix cut in irritably, waving a hand dismissively as her tail lashed against the cushions.
"Stop what?"
"Apologising for things that you don't need to apologise for."
Hermione froze in shock before gulping unsurely, anxiety raking her throat. "But… I rambled on for so long and I probably made you re-live something very painful and-"
"Muddy-"
Hermione was starting to thrash, hands wringing around wrists and flailing in the air with her panic. "You didn't even get to tell me exactly what happened and-"
"Pet-" Bellatrix frowned seeing the nervous energy building around the brunette erratically, she hadn't seen this manic energy before in the woman, and she didn't particularly like it. She didn't need to apologise to her and get flustered like that. After all, it was her that was under house arrest, her that had tortured and killed people. So, she must have been apologising for the sake of it. She worked her jaw in frustration and watched as Hermione thumbed her wrists, hazel eyes never quite catching her gaze, and plump lips worried between teeth. Bellatrix's lips pulled into a frown. Except… this wasn't just apologising for the sake of it, this seemed built-in, second nature, another skin. A conditioned behaviour. She didn't like what that implied. She leant forward to try and get the rambling brunette's attention.
"I wanted to learn so much more and-"
Bellatrix reached forward, gently catching a still bruised wrist. "Granger." She forced herself to say it more softly. A quiet rumble, almost a trill in the back of her throat wrapping around the name.
That caught Hermione's attention.
Bellatrix smirked in response. "Did you forget that I'm stuck here? You'll have plenty of time to fill that obnoxiously big head of yours with 'fascinating' tidbits about me."
Hermione's eyes were locked on the hand carefully wrapped around her wrist, the action itself a parallel to the grip the witch had on her hours before, but it didn't scare her. But that realization terrified her. Immediately the supportive warmth fled from her skin as Bellatrix's hand retracted back to her side. " I—"
"If you apologise one more time I swear I will cut that wagging tongue of yours out." Bellatrix growled, although the threat fell on deaf ears as Hermione finally looked at her. Eyes warm with confusion and relief.
"Thank you."
"What in Morgana are you thanking me for?"
"For trusting me. You're one of the only people who has recently."
Bellatrix chewed her cheek in rumination before blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Well, it's not exactly like I have a choice. Besides, you've stupidly decided to trust me."
"Even so, thank you." Bellatrix supplied a stiff nod in answer. Tail curling at the warm praise littering the woman's tone. Hermione smiled wider.
"So… I'll see you tomorrow?"
"I've got nowhere to go, kitten."
Hermione kept smiling as she packed away her things. Her chest and body as light as the clouds that lazily swirled in the night sky. By the time she reached the door, she realised Bellatrix had not given a definitive answer. Not wanting to impose on the dark witch further than necessary for the program, Hermione tried once more. Voice more hesitant in its gentle questioning.
"So?…"
Bellatrix heaved a heavy sigh, her whole form slouching grumpily along the length of the couch. "So, yes, I will see you tomorrow. Now piss off!"
Whilst Hermione strolled back to the castle, with only the wind at her heels and the trees like wooden titans watching over her; no one but the moon caught the small, fanged smile of a relaxed Bellatrix Black.
Sessions after that flowed easily.