Chapter 33: The Train of Thoughts

Hermione Granger strode through the half empty Hogwarts Express. The train pulled out of the station moments after she got on board, and was slowly rolling through the London outskirts.

The first two cars resembled the pre-war Hogwarts Express experience, overflowing with students and bubbling with excitement. The third car was sparsely occupied and quiet, housing mostly the brooding Slytherins and the overwhelmed first-years. The last car was empty save for a snogging Hufflepuffs couple inside the front compartment.

It looked like a third, if not a half, of the student body chose to skip the upcoming school year.

'I was at Malfoy Manor!' exclaimed Hermione as soon as the doors of the very last compartment on the train closed behind her. 'Dear Merlin! I was at Malfoy Manor!'

She dropped her bag on the soft bench, and twirled around as if sharing with others.

'Of my own free will! I did it. I went there, and it was alright!'

It really wasn't that alright. Not at first. The first hour near the gates of the Manor Hermione spent reliving the past. She was quite out of it for majority of that time. It was wise to go there with plenty of time to spare. Else she'd be looking for alternative ways into Hogwarts.

By the time Narcissa Malfoy appeared at the gates Hermione was able to look at the property and see just a massive building and just the sunlit grounds. She wasn't completely over the past hurts, of course, but a bit more of her old confidence was back.

A disbelieving uncontrolled chuckle left her.

'I had Bellatrix Lestrange trapped under me!'

The thought only occurred when she was near the gates looking in and remembering. Since then she couldn't stop drawing parallels.

'How the times have changed! How are all my limbs still in place?!' Her voice rose before going back to its normal mutter. 'I was stronger. I am stronger. And with the wand I am stronger magically too. If she hexed me I could have hexed her back.' She paused thinking, then nodded as if agreeing with the sentiment. 'She is lucky she kept talking…'

The train abruptly increased speed finally out of the London proper. Hermione plumped onto the seat heavily.

'I am lucky she kept talking…'

She groaned.

'I'm never taking that potion again! Never! And I must stop thinking about sex… and especially sex with her! She made very clear what she is alright with. In her world there is clearly only one way to go about things. How hard is it to remember, Mione?! Merlin! Never again I'm taking the blasted potion!'

Bellatrix was predictably and frustratingly nonchalant about Hermione's drugged actions. At least in front of Hermione. Everything was fine the dark witch stated when Hermione came to her senses and stammered an apology and a heartfelt please don't hex me.

And of course the following morning, the one morning Hermione hoped not to run into Bellatrix, the dark witch joined her for breakfast. Hermione had no excuse but to bring up the most pressing of topics in person.

..'So that was a sex schedule.'

The dark witch hummed a nonchalant observation much to Hermione's annoyance. She expected Bellatrix to be a tad more put off by the information on family unity expectations given the previous night's events.

Hermione barely slept. The beehive at the back of her mind during the consummation was nothing compared to the previous night's compulsion. Images from the Ministry's Guide blended with descriptions from romance novels from the library. She needed to possess Bellatrix... to have her in every way... in any way... with the dark witch's cooperation, or without. It was a miracle she mastered any self-control. She was mortified every time she recalled that fog of thoughts and images.

Perhaps, lust potions, similarly to love potions, turned more potent with time. Their potion, by design, was very short-lived. It could have changed potency sooner than was normal for similar longer-lasting potions…

Another thought was that somehow, over the past two weeks, deep down, Hermione became less terrified of the dark witch.

Fear, pain, utter revulsion were all deterrents to the manufactured emotions.

Lately, she did feel more like Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age and a War Hero, and less like Hermione Granger, a marriage-bound counterbalance to the infamous Death Eater, Bellatrix Lestrange. The ability to leave the island at any time didn't hurt that sense of safety either.

Perhaps that also explained why Bellatrix was so unaffected that first time… Hermione tried hard not to focus too much on that conclusion.

Both reasons could have factored in. It didn't really matter though.

Hermione got rid of the whole stock before the sun even rose.

'Bagnold didn't confirm directly… Maybe there is a way around it… sort off…'

Bellatrix chewed on her breakfast favorite, a flavored bread stick, as she motioned for Hermione to continue.

'Well… we could sleep together some nights. Well… Saturday nights really… that's the only time I would be here. Not sleep sleep, but just sleep. I mean that bed is huge. Right? And ugh... short of asking for details for every occasion…'

She shrugged and stopped.

'Hm... that'd work... if the questions are asked just right. Ask how often we have sex rather than sleep together, and all that sleeping around would be for nothing.'

Hermione hated that the older witch was right. That was her only idea.

'At least that would show we are making an effort?..'

They could focus on intellectual and emotional connections. Two out of three was more than none at all. Emotional connection… Hermione glanced at the Bellatrix. The normally volatile and cruel witch who was so repulsed by Hermione's heritage even lust potion went flat. Alright, maybe one out of three…

Bellatrix was conjuring tiny fire spheres over her food-free palm, and then closing the hand into fist to extinguish them. Hermione knew if she asked what the witch was doing she'd hear one of the standard responses: it's magic or I'm a witch or, her personal favorite, you're a witch. Intellectual connection, indeed.

She returned to staring out the large window.

They were doomed.

'Or we could just have sex.'

Hermione's head whipped around.

'What?'..

She didn't imagine things. Bellatrix announced that there were worse things than sex, like Ministry dungeons and Ministry's further meddling. Hermione reckoned justifying the lack of physical connection to several Ministry-assigned strangers was possibly one of those worse things too.

Hermione resolved to keep encounters potion free and exactly as Bellatrix specified.

Hermione sat quietly for some time looking out the window. The Express was going through the countryside.

Returning to Hogwarts for her NEWTs was the right thing to do. At this point, it was the only thing to do.

Hogwarts, despite Headmistress' welcoming words at the wedding, was another bitter pill among her lately very bitter career prospects.

There were no honorary student roles available for the eighth-years. Hermione's Prefect role was effectively over. The Head Girl was supposedly never even considered for her. And yet, Susan Bones, a very average witch from Hermione's year, was made the Head Girl.

Hermione searched her bag for a notebook with her school related notes.

Her schedule held the same seven classes she chose in her sixth year, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Transfiguration, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and Potions.

Her quill hesitated before scratching Professor Snape's name off the DADA cell. Question marks appeared next to Transfiguration and Potions in the notebook table.

Her studying schedule was next. Saturdays, and Sunday mornings were out. That cut greatly into her studying times.

Perhaps she could persuade Bellatrix to spend some of their Saturdays doing something useful and studious… Something with runes or plants perhaps… Something neutral enough to use as an example of them building non-physical connection without alarming Ministry clerks.

Hermione stuffed the notebook back into her bag, and stretched out on the couch with her bag serving as a pillow. Turned out she was not in the mood to think about school after all.

She wondered if the dark witch spotted the note and the item already. The note might have been a bit much. But if Bellatrix insisted on treating her as a wizard...

.. 'Do you have anything more elaborate?' Hermione inspected the rings. This was the third jewelry place they visited, and she expected more from a store hidden in the twists and turns of Knockturn Alley. 'These look so…' pedestrian… boring… bland… 'so… uhm… Muggle.'

Ginny snorted loudly.

The teenage wizard assisting them looked confused.

'The simplistic style is in fashion right now, Miss, but I assure you all our rings include the complimentary Muggle-repellant ward, and all of them can be safely enchanted with up to two additional charms at a reasonable price.'

'And what about hexes?'

Hermione started to question her decision to take Ginny along. The frown on the boy's face confirmed the inappropriateness of the inquiry.

'Hexes, on the other hand, are not in fashion right now, Miss.'

'But they are so Muggle…' Hermione muttered under her breath, and Ginny snorted again.

'Wait, you charm the final ring, not the silver as it's shaped and not the stones as they are set?'

'Not with those rings, Miss…' The wizard gave the young blonde witches a calculating look. Both lacked the wedding rings. He paged them at first as young wives of just as young husbands of modest means, half-bloods at best.

Now he wasn't so sure.

There was steel under the humor of one, and hints of deeper knowledge of the topic behind the reserved inquiries of the other. 'Please follow me…'

The new section of the store had no windows and was warded so thoroughly Hermione's skin tingled.

'What's the diff, Mione?' Ginny whispered in her ear.

'When magic is woven into the metal and uh… soaked… I suppose the word is… soaked into the stone, it is more potent, and permanent, and it's hard to stick curses on top of such an item, and also hard to mess with the original charms…'

'You understand, the price reflects the time and effort.' The wizard led them to the wall with ring displays.

'The size of those stones!' Ginny exclaimed.

Ginny was correct, the new rings spotted larger stones, more complex cuts and designs. However, 'simplicity' was still the theme of the collection.

'Don't you have anything more… antique looking?'

'Excuse us!' Ginny dragged her to a far corner of the room.

'Godric's pants, Mione! You are getting her the ring!' Ginny whispered in Hermione's ear. 'The price of those! What did she do? What did you do?! Is it a thank you or an apology?!'

'Gin! I do not! And it's neither!'

Her friend just hummed.

The boy behind them cleared his throat.

'Miss, if you describe what you are looking for, perhaps I can ask-'

'Son, show Miss Granger in, Mrs. Potter too' an amplified man's voice sounded through the display room.

The boy gave them a wide-eyed look mouthing their names.

'Now!' the disembodied voice added, prompting the boy into action.

Hermione and Ginny followed the teen assistant through several hidden walls and a number of twisted passages into a fairly large work room.

'How can I help you, ladies? Assuming only your appearance is false and not your intentions…'

'A ring, a new ring in an older style, it has to be massive but not grotesque.'

'Ah, for Madame Lestrange?'

Ginny snorted. Hermione frowned.

'For me!'

Ginny snorted again.

'But… perhaps something Bellatrix might find good enough to… ah… borrow if she wishes.'

Ginny turned away and Hermione noticed her shoulders shake. Honestly! If this wasn't Harry's first day back to work after the Wedding, and Ginny wasn't mopping around in that depressing townhouse and thinking that Hermione was pushing her away, Hermione would have braved the shops by herself!

'A replica or… forgery?'

'What? No! I don't want to claim it as old, I simply want it made in the antique style!'

The jeweler beckoned her to one of the work tables.

'Any specifics on the materials, stones, the look?'

The table held a number of open and closed tomes.

'How did you know who we were?'

The man waved the wand to rearrange the books, and had some of them open at index pages.

'How do I know you won't curse-'

The wizard turned to look at the two witches in disguise fully.

'Miss Granger, Mrs. Potter, my family have been in this business a very long time, security… and discretion are good for business, grudges are not. The design?'

'Silver, in a darker style… Intertwined strands rather than a solid shape, sort of like this...' Hermione pulled out her wand and pointed to the designs there, ' vine shaped... with a stone… black… or red… or green… oh no no maybe purple?.. hm… engraved… yes definitely engraved… and charmed…'

'Let's start with the stone, then.'

The three went through a set of thick doors and into a square box which whirled around, dropped down for several seconds, slowed, spun again, and finally opened.

'Semi-precious or precious… oh I wonder…' the wizard took them to one of the locked doors.

The small room held multitude of displays, some floating, some stacked.

'Look around. You too Mrs. Potter, if you wish. You don't have to keep me company.'

Hermione stopped not a minute later in front of the display, and the wizard grinned. Something told him he'd finally get to work with those stones.

The oddly shaped light violet stones with a clear moving starburst pattern within.

'Are those cursed? I can… feel them.'

Ginny was at her side immediately, all mirth forgotten, her hand slid towards her wand.

'Can you feel them too, Mrs. Potter?'

'I cannot feel anything' the younger witch snapped looking suspiciously at the wizard.

'These are Hebridean Black's eye stones, Miss Granger. Very rare. Your wand's core must from a dragon too.'

'This is a dragon's eye?!'

'No, this is a mineral that makes the Hebridean Black eyes such a brilliant purple color. It's no different from the bone, or blood, or skin, or heartstring' The wizard looked pointedly at Hermione's wand, and Ginny's boots. 'And unlike for those things, only non-violent deaths combined with very rare set of natural phenomena produces the stones. Killing the creature results in a brittle and flaky item.'

'Oh alright... Will I always feel it if I chose it for the ring?'

'No, the little bit of magic it possesses would be redirected into the ring itself. The thing is, this stone cannot be modified or warded without damaging the internal structure and the magic within it. It can only enhance the enchantments woven into the silver but cannot be the holder of the additional enchantment.'

Ginny was suspicious and scandalized by the price, but Hermione found the source of the stone, and the color, too coincidental not to choose it.

'Why?'

Ginny didn't say anything until they were back at Grimmauld. Hermione was thankful for that.

'With the design, and that inscription… Are you making sure she won't accept it?'

'Honestly, I don't know what she wants with a ring… probably just being difficult since there are so few opportunities for her now... At least I can make sure she has to think of me every time she sees it! And it is not a gift... it is... a requested item.'

Ginny's brows took permanent residence at the top of her forehead.

'You spent an obscene amount of galleons for a witch you supposedly don't even like, for a ring she supposedly wouldn't even wear, and you don't even know exactly why? Are you under Imperius, Hermione?! In love? In lust? In guilt?! With this price tag you must have Crucio'ed her! Repeatedly. You didn't… did you?'

'I didn't! Merlin, why does everybody think I'm hurting her, on purpose?!'

'Are you hurting her without purpose?'

'No! You don't understand, Gin.'

'I want to. But you don't say anything! Since your matching evening you are like a different person! A person with secrets!'..

That's when Ginny extracted a promise from Hermione to have Harry and her over for dinner. She refused to listen to reason, reminding Hermione that she wasn't behaving too reasonably anyways.

Hermione sighed. Perhaps she could put off to later the dinner invitations just like she'd been putting off seeing Andromeda Tonks... She didn't mention either promise to Bellatrix yet. The dark witch might find some ill-spirited amusement at having Harry and Ginny over. Her sister was a completely different matter, if even an indirect mention of her prompted a flash of anger.

Hermione startled out of her thoughts by the trolley witch at the compartment door.

They must be halfway to the castle. Ginny and Luna were taking their time finding her.

She selected a bunch of snacks and candies to keep her until the Feast.

As she was about to close the door a scroll floated inside. Out of the corner of her eye she saw an owl flying away from the train.

Acceptable

The scroll held just one word in now familiar handwriting.

Acceptable! The bloody thing was nothing short of outstanding.

And did it physically hurt the bloody witch to say thank you?! She had to suffer Ginny's teasing to get the thing!

Hermione reached into her bag for a quill, but then changed her mind. The note was an acknowledgement. It didn't require an answer.

Instead she selected a sweet suddenly realizing just how long ago was her breakfast, and stretched back on the seat.

The compartment door slid open.

'May I join you?'

Hermione half shrugged.

'Thanks. It is quite disconcerting to be one of the very few older Slytherins on the train.'

Daphne Greengrass slid gracefully into the booth opposite Hermione, clasped her hands lightly on top of the window table, and fixed her gaze out the window.

Most of Hermione's classmates chose to forego the makeup year. Hermione heard so from Harry, and saw it on her walk through the train.

Select few, like Harry and Ron, had their NEWTs requirement waived and started jobs; others opted to study on their own and take the tests alongside Hogwarts' seventh- and eighth-years; some others still simply accepted graduation certificates of completion of study and opted out of NEWTs all together.

It was surprising to see the Slytherin witch among those returning for the eighth year.

'Blaise is here too, but he is a Prefect and is at the meeting still.'

Hermione frowned at the tidbit that there was another eighth-year, a Slytherin, with honorary duties. She felt the top of the table for another sweet.

'Thought you would be directing the prefects.'

Hermione flushed. So did she! She finally sat up, and pulled a leg up to rest her chin on her knee.

'Thought you won't be going to Hogwarts at all. Didn't you attend last year?'

The other witch grinned faintly at the snap, even as she kept looking out on the passing scenery.

'There is only so much of Longbottom I can take, ' muttered the witch after some time.

Oh.

'Susan is the Head Girl.' Hermione admitted. 'Maybe because I won't be staying on school grounds on weekends…'

Blue eyes flitted towards her momentarily before returning to the window.

'Neville will be coming to Hogsmeade on weekends.'

Hermione didn't remember having any sort of conversation, any sort of interaction even, with this particular classmate in the six years she attended Hogwarts. The witch wasn't mean spirited as Pansy Parkinson, or violent as Millicent Bulstrode. Daphne's attitude was polite, arrogant, and indifferent. It was eerie how much she resembled a younger looking Narcissa.

'You are not pleased?'

'Are you?'

'Neville is a good person. Free and respected. Our situations are not alike.'

Daphne turned to look at Hermione with another faint grin. Hermione narrowed her eyes.

'Why do you dislike him so much?'

'I don't. I simply find him uninspiring, off-puttingly nice, weak.' The elegant hand waved off Hermione's objection before any sound left her. 'I know, I know, he is this brave wizard who made speech in You-Know-Who's face and killed You-Know-Who's snake. He is still blandly plain.'

Hermione felt for Neville. He was brave, and kind, and nice, and didn't deserve to be dismissed or mocked for it.

She wondered what Bellatrix would say about her. Would she even get past the blood status?.. Did the dark witch think her weak for not treating her as an immediate threat… She knew her demeanor puzzled Bellatrix. After the other night Bellatrix wouldn't see her in quite the same way, she thought mournfully. Not to mention the journal revelations which Hermione was quite sure Bellatrix somehow accessed.

Perhaps she should bring it all up. Give proper unflattering names to her actions. Not take it's fine as a true response. She sighed. Bellatrix was brash, and loud and forceful in her pre-deathbed days. She was also a pureblood, and a Slytherin. Hermione sometimes wondered whether honesty actually physically pained her on some level. Direct approach might make things worse rather than better.

'Why were you even in the matchings, Daphne? Don't all of you get betrothed as babies? Or was he from another Death Eater family?'

'My family didn't support You-Know-Who… not in this war and only as much as was needed not to get wiped out in the first. I could have married during the grace period. My father certainly tried to make that happen. The Law holds a hidden gem, you see. Betrothed witches and wizards are allowed to disregard the contracts in favor of matchings. Only a few dared, you understand. It's not in our nature to go against our parents so openly.'

'And you did?'

'Matchings promised a more socially acceptable husband, and, as a result, better opportunities for my future children. Neville is exactly that.'

Hermione thought about that as she finished the last of her chocolate frog.

'Is this how all purebloods think?'

She nodded at the pile of sweets for the other witch to help herself.

'As opposed to what?'

Daphne looked over Hermione's supplies of sugary treats, and picked the least troublesome of the pile.

'I was, well still am actually, surprised how nonchalant wizarding families are about the Marriage Law. Especially the old families. I mean if there was ever a time or a reason to protest modern… ahh.. Muggle-loving ways… wouldn't that be it?'

The compartment door swished open to reveal Ginny and Luna.

The two were clearly surprised to find the Slytherin inside.

'What are you two up to?' Ginny helped herself to the sweets and settled next to Hermione. 'By the way did you know Padma and Dean are both attending? Bloody convenient, isn't it? Mcgonagall told us Hogwarts was not a brothel to arrange the couples' rendezvous.'

'You actually asked her?'

'Harry did. Everyone over 17 is allowed off the school grounds on weekends no questions asked this year. We'd just need to sign in and out. Even Harry will have to arrange something outside for us to meet. Of course technically we don't need to. We passed the interview yesterday. Oh, yes! I have Harry's question list in my trunk for you, Mione, and I'll write mine down soon.'

'Thanks!'

'We've sent the Wizengamot a letter of complaint regarding their unreasonable expectations anyway. Mcgonagall has a point, you know.'

Daphne cleared her throat.

'I've heard they are preparing a new set of amendments to the Law... My father never overshares. I only know that amendments are based on Commission recommendations, and public concerns... Whatever that means. Maybe your letter influenced them too...'

The group fell silent each wondering whether those new things from their troublesome government would impact them personally.

'How is this Law even possible?' Hermione muttered with renewed bewilderment.

Daphne took it as the continuation of their conversation.

'Social status is a big part of why younger people are compliant. It is expected of us to marry in a way that benefits our families. You'll notice at the feast, there are only few returning six-years and seven-years in Slytherins. Taking NEWTs for many is pointless. We won't be considered for career opportunities in the Ministry. Clerks maybe... But not for promotion positions in enforcement or research or policy making… even getting into healing or private apprenticeships has become much harder already. Having a spouse who may smooth things along for us of for our future children is valuable.'

'And I think many moderate families also like the mandatory children rule. My father's generation had over three times as many students at Hogwarts as our generation has. They had three dorm rooms for boys, and as many for girls. He loves to bemoan that. My mother's generation, she is much younger than him, she was at school during the start of the First Wizarding War. Births weren't even impacted by the war yet, and still they were down to two dorms each for boys and for girls, and you obviously know how it is now.'

'30 students in a year?'

'Yep, my grandparents said the same.' Ginny added.

'My father said something like that once too' Luna added.

'Yes, so you see old families of all leanings observed this for a while. Many parents and grandparents are hopeful that this new way would actually work… even if many are annoyed at having much less say in our spouse selection. This, of course, is based on moderate circles, like my parents' social circle, Augusta's… uh… Nevill's grandmother… her circle...'

'So there is no hope any generation of older families would support repeal efforts?' Hermione was glad she got to talk about it with someone from the other side. Though it was so not what she expected to hear.

'Some might... But many couples already are settling in and starting families. Even in our year and among the seventh-years.'

'This is insane! Not even a year in... What are these girls thinking… At 17?!'

'Maybe they don't see children as a bother, and don't want to live for years with the Ministry requirement over their heads…' Ginny snapped a bit too sharply and Hermione gave her a curious look. She didn't mean to imply anything bad about Weasleys... 'Looks like we are getting close, I'm going to grab my stuff from the front car.'

Luna followed Ginny out to collect her own things.

Daphne rose to leave too.

'I'm need to grab my stuff from the front too. Thanks for the company.' The Slytherin paused at the doors. 'You do realize your friend is pregnant, right?'

Hermione paused putting the remaining candies in her bag.

What?!

End of Chapter 33