Hey all! It's been some time that I've posted on here, but I've had some renewed motivation thanks to the support of my partner, my friends and those of you that have left reviews, I can't thank you enough for helping to inspire me though I can't promise a regular update schedule, I'm hoping to continue posting again.
Hope you enjoy this new chapter of Why do birds sing
- WeeklyCrisis
"No. Not at all." Hermiome spoke frostily, arms folded and her gaze marble, mirroring Bellatrix's own pitched irises. Nymphadora shifted on her feet uncomfortably, looking between the two witches in confusion and a little concern. She cleared her throat to gain both prodigy's attention.
"Right… okay… well, now that you're awake, want to explain what happened 'Mione? Because I practically jinxed Ron to keep his mouth shut until I could figure this out." Nymphadora questioned sternly, brows furrowed as she takes in the state of the living room, looking at the damage inflicted before settling her gaze on the pair at the centre of it all.
"I…" Hermione hesitated, meeting Bellatrix's firm gaze and the way the dark witch seemed resolute in her decision to take the full blame for what had happened. Hermione despised it. The willingness, the eagerness to take it all upon herself for no good reason other than to… to what exactly? She still didn't understand Bellatrix's reasoning, nor why the dark witch would put Hermione's life, her project above her own survival, it wasn't Bellatrix's style. Yet here she was, ready to take the consequences for an incident that wasn't her fault. It made Hermione's blood boil and her chest ache in the most confusing and infuriating way. She wouldn't have it, she would clear Bellatrix's name, she could always start the project fresh, she could fix this.. "We-" And before she could even finish her sentence and rectify the situation, Bellatrix interrupted with her mock haughty sneer, standing to her full height and chuckling without any care in the world.
"Like I said Nymph, it was my fault, I got rowdy and tried to scare the little witch, the ginger prick walked in and did what he thought was right." Bellatrix glanced at the younger brunette witch, eyes ablaze with the promise of another argument should the genius try to challenge her statement. "It was my fault." She restated confidently, signature Black smirk in place, despite the burning pleading in her eyes for Hermione to accept the story. Hermione grit her teeth, fists clenched under her arms as her thoughts raced to find an argument, another reason, anything.
Nymphadora raised her brows in surprise at Bellatrix's confession, her assured tone and the way she seemed resolute in her story. She changed her focus from one witch to another, her gaze searching Hermione's for the real story.
""Is that true?" Nymph asked more softly, attempting to coerce whatever the real story was from Hermione who seemed to struggle to meet her gaze.
"It's-" Hermione started, frustration welling up in her chest as all of her thoughts for another excuse seemed to be coming to a dead end. And once again, Bellatrix saved her from a response.
"If I was lying I would blame the git." Bellatrix laughed, cocky and obnoxious as she casually leaned against the kitchen counter, a playful grin on her lips, one that flashed her canines and though Hermione would deny it, sent a small thrill down her spine.
Nymphadora frowned at Bellatrix's answer, sure, the dark witch was her aunt but with her reputation, she wasn't entirely sure her aunt could be trusted to tell the truth, and so, her frown found Hermione once more, watching as the brunette uncrossed her arms and looked away, seemingly lost in thought.
"Hermione?" Nymph tried again, urging the brightest witch of her age to meet her eyes and provide her the truth.
Hermione had no backup. For once, she had no further option, nothing she could say that would prevent both herself and Bellatrix from getting into more trouble. She inhaled sharply, preparing herself to lie to her friend as she steeled her nerves and let the frustration melt away in a defeated glance to Bellatrix before she met Nymph's inquisitive look.
"It's the truth." She eventually replied, voice devoid of any wavering tone, a mask of indifference in place as she confirmed Bellatrix's story, adamantly avoiding glancing at the dark witch who let out a quiet breath of relief.
Nymphadora considered Hermione's answer, peering at the witch for a moment more before she laughed in nervous relief and shook her head, turning to grin at her troublesome aunt.
"Merlin, always have to get yourself into trouble don't you, aunty Bella?" Nymph laughed now, more relaxed now that the golden girl had confirmed what had happened, as vague as their story was, she knew Hermione's report would be far more detailed than anything she could write herself. She grinned at Bellatrix who joined her laughter; wolffish smile in place and a more laidback disposition as she stretched her arms up and gave a shrug.
"What can I say, mischief follows me wherever I go." Bellatrix responded in a singsong voice, chuckling as she shared a small knowing look with Hermione. Nymphadora rubbed her forehead, inhaling deeply before looking between the two and chuckling herself.
"I'll have to report this… and the security breach, unless you can handle it, Hermione?" Nymphadora spoke more cheerfully now before her brows furrowed and she looked at the front door and the wards still in place. "Merlin, How did Ron even find this place?" She mulled aloud, scratching her chin.
"I can handle the reports; leave it to me, and the same with Ron." Hermione responded automatically, as if on autopilot as her brain worked overtime to figure out how this happened in the first place. "We'll have to strengthen the wards… maybe even relocate Bellatrix completely." She continued, holding her chin as she looked at the door quizzically, running through every possible spell that could allow someone to pass through her wards without detection.
"I'll talk to the ministry." Nymphadora nodded in agreement, following Hermione's lead in the matter despite the young with not necessarily being her supervisor, it was easy to see the leadership qualities in the girl and hard to question her when she made decisions that often curated successful outcomes.
Bellatrix huffed as the two began to speak to each other about changing her security and moving her about like some sort of cargo as if she wasn't standing right there. She folded her arms over her chest, eyes narrowed.
"Don't I get a say in this?" She grumbled in irritation, bristling as the two other witches turned to look at her with stern eyes that would make even a dragon bow its head.
"No." They both responded resolutely, leaving Bellatrix to fume by the counter, grumbling away about 'useless nieces and stupid muggleborns.'
"Right I'll just silencio then." Bellatrix snarked quietly, deflating as the two other witches continued their talks for improvements and fortifications before sharing a hug that left Bellatrix a little bristled, digging her nails into the countertop as she held back from grumbling at the sight of Nymphadora's arms wrapped affectionately around the muggleborn. It left a sensation like knives in her chest, a bitter jealousy creeping up her throat in a low growl that caused the younger witch to lock eyes with her in confusion. She turned her head, unable to meet Hermione's gaze for they both know she would simply argue that she simply didn't want Nymph's hands around a dirty creature like a muggleborn… though again, they both also know that wouldn't be the whole truth.
"I'll see you later Hermione." Nymphadora's cheerful voice, the familial smile and the way Hermione returned it only served to grate Bellatrix more, even as her niece left the safe house to return to her duty, leaving Bellatrix and Hermione alone once more.
Hermione shifted on her feet for a moment before raising her head to look at the dark witch casually resting against the kitchen counter, eyes dark and reserved as they gazes locked once more.
"Bellatrix-" Hermione started, ready to discuss the reasoning behind the witch's decision to take the blame, though once again, the dark witch interrupted her, and if it wasn't for the soft smirk on Bellatrix's lips, Hermione would have been annoyed.
"So, what now golden girl?" Bellatrix asked promptly, raising her hand to her face, extending a claw to pick at her teeth absentmindedly, as if this whole ordeal never happened.
Hermione sighed and leaned on the opposite kitchen island facing Bellatrix, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she exhaled and gave Bellatrix a stern glare.
"We just lied, Bellatrix." She stated calmly, though her anger brimmed just beneath the calm as she watched the dark witch simply shrug and snicker at her.
"I didn't realise this was a first for you, little witch." Bellatrix couldn't help but tease the golden girl, grin in place as she did so, her body language relaxed and confident. "Do you need me to coach you through it?" She asked teasingly, black eyes speckled with amusement as she watched a soft pink hue colour the pretty brunette's cheeks. It was hard to resist teasing the girl when she blushed like that, hard to resist the surprise in golden flecked eyes, Hermione Granger was hard to resist. Thankfully, Bellatrix is a master at composure when it mattered. "First we lie, then we get away with it and then oh look, you get what you want." She snickered as air filled Hermione's cheek before she blew it out in an angry huff that left Bellatrix full on chuckling.
"But we lied to Nymph! I'm going to lie to the order, to the ministry! That's not okay, Bellatrix, and more than that, it's a lie that shows you as the criminal they all want to hang you as!" Hermione argued fervently, despite the blush on her cheeks she would not allow Bellatrix's naturally flirty disposition to thwart this conversation, and she knew she was getting back on topic when Bellatrix's lips curled into a small snarl and she pushed away from the countertop to snap at her, fangs bared and knuckles bone white.
"In order to save your stupid project, are you really going to stay hung up on this?" The dark witch's voice was barbed with frustration. Could you blame her? Months of this experiment; months of spending time with this brat, months of reading muggle books, of cooking, of talking to this petulant, irritating, blood-boiling, heart racing, intelligent and utterly tempting witch. And in a moment of chaos, she chose to take the blame, because that would mean staying. She chose to stay. Yet this little brat couldn't just accept that. Who wouldn't be frustrated?
"Of course I am!" The younger witch exclaimed, hardening her gaze when Bellatrix stepped closer, her heart starting an unsteady rhythm at the dark witches proximity, memories of her thigh pressing between hers, of teeth grazing her skin, of Bellatrix close to her in a way she hadn't experienced even with Harry.
It was different, with Harry it was a moment of needed comfort, of stability and reassurance. It never felt… right necessarily, just something they both needed at the time and when appropriate. Yet, with Bellatrix it was natural, it was wrong, but it was natural and exciting and tangible, yet just out of reach. Bellatrix was… exhilarating, unique, tempting and utterly frustrating. And even with that thought, she couldn't fight the pixies dancing in her stomach when Bellatrix outright snarled at her, fangs in full view and yet completely harmless as the dark witch simply scoffed at her.
"What is it you muggleborns say, don't look a gift horse in the mouth?" Bellatrix's lips curled in disgust at the saying but fought past the irritation to make her point, but not without making her distaste clear. "Foul, ridiculous, but applicable here, so stop being a brat and just accept what happened, what needed to happen." She emphasised with a sharp snap of her fangs, hoping to whatever gods that the young witch would back down for once instead of matching her energy at every turn, however those hopes were dashed as Hermione's own challenging fire burned deep in her eyes and she had the audacity to jab a finger against Bellatrix's chest.
"You keep saying to accept it, like it doesn't matter, like you don't matter! All I want to know is why?" The younger witch argued vehemently, unafraid of the flash of yellow in the dark witch's eyes, nor the way a rumble could be heard in her chest, she wasn't going to back down just because Bellatrix didn't want to have this conversation. "You could have told the truth, Ron would be in more trouble, I'd be in trouble for making a mistake. You could have bent this in your favour, so why didn't you?" She finished in wild confusion, her eyes begging Bellatrix for an answer, a real answer. Her finger that had been pressing against Bellatrix's chest flattening to a palm against the dark witch, no longer aware of the proximity during this heated debate; nor of the fact that Bellatrix hadn't pushed her away, hadn't thrown an insult or curse. In fact, Bellatrix seemed to quiet down at Hermione's questioning, her gaze drifting to the hand on her chest, the palm making contact with her body and the way her heart beat against the brunette's touch. Bellatrix didn't know how to respond, she didn't know how to feel or what to think, why did it even matter to the young witch?
"Does it matter?" Bellatrix asked in a quieter voice, her tone indiscernible with how quiet she had actually spoken, now purposefully avoiding the girl wonder's eyes. Her words, an echo of one's spoken prior to Nymphadora's interruption earlier.
The quiet tone had caught Hermione off guard and left her guard down, left her anger and frustration to fizzle into something softer, something warmer that left the space between them more intimate.
"Yes Bellatrix, it does." Hermione whispered back reassuringly, urging the dark witch to be honest for once.
Bellatrix kept her eyes lowered for a moment, unwilling to meet the pretty muggleborn's gaze. Merlin, she had to stop referring to Hermione like that, it wasn't right. She sighed, a soft exhale as she raised her hand to slowly wrap around the wrist of Hermione's hand that was still placed against her chest.
"Well, then re-evaluate your priorities." She spoke calmly, finally meeting the other girl's gaze, her voice held no venom but just a firm defeat. One that Hermione couldn't stand to hear, one that crumpled her heart and made her veins burn and ache as she felt the gentle fingertips wrap around her wrist. She had to make Bellatrix understand, to see her point of view, make her understand.
"You ARE my priority." Hermione's voice burned Bellatrix's walls, singed the arteries in her heart and made her let out a soft breath, her eyes meeting the golden girls, before briefly falling to lips that made her falter. This was too much. It almost hurt not to follow her instincts, the way her body begged for her to close the gap between them, to do something that would damage this whole budding friendship and Hermione's entire project. But, Morgana, she wanted to, more than having wanted anyone before.
Hermione herself was in no better shape, her heart beating fast, her cheeks flushed and her eyes soft and dazed at the heat that filled the space between them. At the way Bellatrix's eyes fell to her lips and caused her heart to skip just for a second and for lightning to skirt across her skin leaving goosebumps in their wake. Then, in a single moment, filled with uncertainty and with the hidden hope that Bellatrix would close the distance and unravel this unknown pull between them, she instead pulled away, head turned and black hair curtaining her expression as she pulled Hermione's hand away from her chest.
"No, this 'project' is your priority." Bellatrix spoke resolutely, almost coldly, clearly trying to break whatever spell they both seem to be under whenever they're this close, and Hermione's perfume tints the air in the most alluring manner. "I'm trying to help you, Granger, what don't you understand about that?" She continued despondently, an attempt to protect herself, her heart and her thoughts from the little witch, who seemed to deflate at their broken contact yet continued to push for answers.
"The reason behind it, Bellatrix. You lied to protect me, me and my friend, why?" Hermione pressed with soft relentlessness, the need, the drive for answers impossible to ignore and more favourable than acknowledging the pang of disappointment in the pit of her stomach at how Bellatrix had pulled away from her.
"Because-" The dark witch started before hesitating, swallowing the words threatening to spill from her unbidden, swallowing her confusing thoughts and feelings surrounding the girl before her before she shook her head, searching for a way to end this conversation, to redirect the know-it-all. "You have bigger problems than this, Granger; like catching that filthy little weasel for example."
"Bellatrix-" Hermione tried to get the dark witch to look at her, to let her in, to renew that strange feeling between them that had been brewing over months, before once again. Bellatrix cut her off.
"I'll see you later, Granger."
And with that, Hermione found herself standing alone in the living room, Bellatrix retreating to the confines of her bedroom, leaving her with nothing but silence and her own deafening heartbeat. She couldn't focus on it for now, despite it all; Bellatrix was right, she had to find Ron, and so with hazy, conflicting thoughts and a defeated sigh, she made her way back to the school dorms, ignoring the looks pointed her way from classmates and students, ignoring the concerned look from McGonnagal as she silently walked the halls in search of Ron.
It took all of 30 minutes to find Ronald Weasley. After scouring the dorm rooms, the lunch hall, the quidditch grounds and wasting time asking others if they had seen the thick-headed Weasley. She should've known she would have found him hidden in one of the winding corridors in a closet.
With Lavender on her knees…
And his pants around his ankles.
Initially she was furious, a ravaging white anger that steamed her skin and left her seeing red… then a wave of calm disappointment settled over her, because of course this is what she would find him doing.
"Jesus, Hermione!" He flustered, his Adam's apple bobbing inelegantly, like a rope made to hang him in his sputtering as he quickly fumbled with his trousers, Lavender quickly standing as the pair's cheeks flushed darker than gryffindor red.