Chapter 11: The Breakfast

Hermione lingered not far from the open doors leading into the Sunrise sunroom. She knew Bellatrix was there. She stopped at the kitchen to get breakfast, and the elves confirmed that the witch requested her own breakfast brought there not too long ago.

Hermione fingered the parchment in her jeans pocket. She successfully avoided the witch for two days, and did her research. Useless as it proved to be.

The sordid romances at the far shelves of the library and the Marriage Manuals circa 1886, and circa 1834, and circa 1773... She stopped at 1773 edition... They all agreed on a couple of things. People need to see each other to have relations… any relations. The books had some disagreement on the frequency, but Hermione had her own ideas about that.

Both her sources also agreed that a lady was to let a gentleman lead the interaction whether it is by waiting for him to save her from the dragon or initiating personal relations. Useless advice, given her reality. Hermione imagined she'd have to improvise as the situation developed. Though she couldn't help but feel apprehensive that the older witch, the previously married scary assertive witch, might decide to go straight to the heart of the matter. Half of the scenarios in her mind involved her finding ways to stop or to slow things down.

The Manuals also suggested a witch exercise patience, acceptance, and self-sacrifice. At that Hermione put the books to the side concluding sacrificing any more was the last thing she should be doing.

When the second morning came without an incident she started to wonder whether the witch was even still at the Grotto. The thought that she'd have a highly unpleasant discussion with the Auror Office, and Harry and Ron, and the Minister, and who knows who else, if the witch was not where she supposed to be brought her out to search for her spouse.

'If you are spying, you are doing it badly.'

Hermione walked into the room.

'How do you know I wasn't just walking by?'

'I felt your magic for a good five minutes, silly Mugglespawn.'

Hermione blinked.

'That's what you are going with?'

'You are a spawn of Muggles, are you not? What do you want?'

'Charming'

Black eyes stared impassively at her.

'Fine, so I think we should have breakfast together' Hermione fidgeted under the flat gaze, 'in the same room… at the same time...'

'I comprehend what together means, silly Muggle. Why?'

'I'm a witch!'

'Yes-yes, you are a great witch. Why?'

Bellatrix's tone was flat but the sentence sounded like a sing song in Hermione's head, and it grated on her nerves. A lot. Hermione pulled at her patience. Who knew the 19th century marriage manual was still sound.

'I was just thinking that if we spend time together we might get more used to each other's presence, you know… for other stuff...'

Dark eyes slid over her form from her head to her sneakers and back up. Hermione felt herself blush, so she narrowed her eyes at the witch and pursed her lips for good measure.

'Whatever, so we shall.'

As if the witch was that well put together, she fumed at the dismissive tone. Completely ignoring the fact that the witch so far had only one inflection.

The black hair rivaled her own in its freedom of expression, the long black robes were baggy, but even those couldn't hide the hollows of the witch's face and pronounced bones of the wrists and hands. The witch was painfully sickly thin.

Only after a moment she realized that the witch agreed without much fight.

Hermione's eyebrows rose, but the witch was already staring back out the window.

She coughed and forged on.

'And I think we should have conversations.'

That got the witch's attention, the black eyes were back on her.

'Every other day.'

If the witch could show expressions Hermione thought the look on her face would be one of incredulity. As it was the dark head cocked to the side.

'We can start at ten minutes of conversation. Your sister should not be a go-between. Unless you want to invite her into this.' Brown eyes widened. 'Merlin, that was not an invitation! Forget I said that. I don't know what purebloods' tradition is on this but we are not inviting your sister into it!'

Dark witch half rose eyeing the doors, then breathed a forceful puff and sat down.

'I believe Narcissa did enough to my person already.'

Hermione hoped that meant a no to the sister.

'You can manage ten minutes of conversation, I assume?'

Bellatrix turned to the window once more.

'Every third day,' she finally said.

Hermione checked for her wand, and decided to push a bit more. She sat her breakfast on a nearby table, levitated a chair and the table to the windows, a respectable distance from the dark witch.

'Why are you still here, Muggle-' The witch paused shooting a quick look at Hermione, before adding 'spawn.'

'Well, we might as well start today… I already have breakfast with me.'

'I've already had mine.'

'Perfect, then you can talk first.'

Hermione stated and shot a look of her own at the witch.

Hermione thought for a first proper conversation, the experience went surprisingly well, all things considering. She half expected Lestrange to leave, and for a moment it looked like the witch was contemplating storming off. Instead, she made an effort to relax into her seat, forced those flat eyes on Hermione and rattled question after question about the marriage law and about the house arrest.

End of Chapter 11