Chapter 38: Topic 101

Hermione Granger stood in the middle of her bedroom. Her wand was out. Her eyes were glued to the door of her closet. Behind her, on her bed, DADA books from her years at Hogwarts, her class notes, thick journals in Bellatrix's handwriting, and several rare books on all things defense from the other library were spread out.

A loud melancholic sigh sounded though the closet's door. Hermione gripped the wand tighter. A sorrowful moan followed not a minute later. She started to think she might need to look for assistance.

'DADA was rubbish my last years at Hogwarts.' Bellatrix informed her out of the blue at breakfast. 'Studied on my own, and with... family.' She then nodded towards books and journals stacked on the side table. 'I'm not a teacher. You must tell what'd help. And about dueling...'

As strategies went, that was a good one. Hermione's utter surprise at Bellatrix's unexpected helpfulness, the outrage at the suggestion of using the elves for dueling practice, and the curiosity about the books and journals derailed the other topics on Hermione's mind to later. She sped through her food, agreed to a DADA tutoring time with Bellatrix for the following day, grabbed the reading materials Bellatrix shared, and all but skipped to her room.

Of course none of the books made any horrid spell-resistant noises at the time.

Hermione almost jumped out of her skin when she noticed the black-clad figure in her doorway. Bellatrix just stood there, lost in thought, unbothered by the wand in Hermione's hand or the sorrowful noises trickling into the hallway from Hermione's room.

Bellatrix never came to Hermione's room before... at least not when Hermione was present.

Hermione braced for whatever brought the witch to her door.

'Bellatrix?'

Black eyes focused on her. The dark witch took several steps into the room. Hermione stuck the wand into her jeans' back pocket, and pretended there were no wailing closets anywhere close.

'As you requested.'

The book flew into Hermione's hands with enough force to sting.

Hermione flushed but held the older witch's gaze.

'And?'

'101'

The page or the topic... Hermione's brows rose at the topic and the picture on page 101. No, definitely not the page.

Hermione leafed through the book to almost the very beginning... Of course... The first one indicated the chapter's number...

She glanced up.

'That's what you'd rather do?'

'I'd rather stick to what works.'

Hermione took a breath to explain just how much things didn't work.

'You wished for less clothing or more touching or something that lets us pretend we are a real couple.' Bellatrix recited to the space somewhere to the right of Hermione's head.

That indeed was fairly close to what she said the other night. She hoped Bellatrix would cooperate, was committed to insisting on it... She just didn't expect Bellatrix to actually do so without additional arguments.

The witch whirled around to leave, summoning the book from Hermione's hands.

'I'll reconsider-'

'Bellatrix, wait! Wait. That works. Tonight?'

'Today is Saturday.'

That was a yes to tonight then.

Bellatrix was suspiciously proactive... about DADA, and about this...

Narcissa had to be missing again. There had to be a reason behind Bellatrix's uncharacteristic goodwill... There must be another Malfoy Manor trip in her near future...

Bellatrix lingered at the doors, clearly conflicted about something.

Hermione bit back a groan. Hopefully, the inspection of the Manor's interior wouldn't be required.

'You know what Legilimency is...'

What?

Hermione's heart thumped loudly in her ears. Was Bellatrix about to confess to something?

The sentence didn't sound entirely like a statement. So Hermione nodded just in case it was actually a question.

'Can you cast the spell?'

That was a very strange intro to a confession...

'Sort of... in theory... ahh I might need to read- Lestrange, I'm not letting you-'

'I asked whether you know how to cast it, did I not?'

Oh...

'I want to show you something...'

Again the sentence sounded as much a statement as it did a question.

At least, it didn't sound like Narcissa was missing after all.

A thin book slammed into Hermione's chest.

'Must you do that!'

The book had a soft leather cover, and gleaming pages which looked and felt like silk. The writing appeared stitched into the pages rather than written. Judging by the things coming from the other library the place was... magical! Hermione idly wondered if she'd ever get to see the place...

She ran her fingers over the unfamiliar word on the cover.

Mind Magicks: Legilimency, Occlumency, Veritafictumency

'Learn what you must if you want to see what I want to show.'

Bellatrix whirled around and was out the room, not waiting for a reply.

'What is-'

'Leave the Veritafictumency alone,' came the snap from the hallway. 'Dark dark magic in your shiny tiny itty-bitty little world,' continued in a flat unhurried chant.

The dark head popped into the open doorway, and continued in a normal voice.

'It does mess with one's head if done wrong. Leave. It. Alone.'

Just then a loud mournful groan sounded from the closet.

Hermione startled.

The curly head disappeared from view.

'Wait! Bellatrix! How do I stop this bloody book from wailing?'

The sound of booted steps headed away from her room.

'You are a witch!' echoed through the hallway. 'Make it!'

The Master bedroom was as dark as it always was. A customary single dim candle flickered on the nightstand.

'What are you wearing, Miss Granger?'

Hermione looked down at her very sensible attire, long sleeved brown t-shirt and loose pants in a red-brown-yellow tartan pattern. Though in faint candlelight the outfit looked yellowish-brown and black.

'PJs. It's most suitable for activity 101… I think...'

She looked critically at the corseted dress. A small stack of folded cloths fell into her hands, summoned from her room.

'Here.'

Bellatrix glanced at the crisp set of clothing. A tiny shiny globe appeared momentarily over her palm revealing the red-white-brown shades. Black eyes narrowed.

'Look' Hermione pointed at the still attached tags. 'It's new. It's in my size and in my preferred colors. Naturally. With PJs the size is relative. It'll be more comfortable than the dress.'

Bellatrix kept eyeing the clothing suspiciously. Hermione sighed.

'It's not going to turn you into a Muggle, Bellatrix… or a Gryffindor.'

'I know that!'

Bellatrix hesitated for another moment but then snatched the clothing from the younger witch and disappeared inside the closet.

Bellatrix reappeared a couple of minutes later. She didn't look traumatized by Muggle-made outfit. In fact, her fingers kept brushing over the materials of her outfit curiously, and as if accidentally.

All three buttons of her shirt were undone. The likely consequence of trying to stuff whatever held some of her hair up through the shirt's head opening. The battle was obviously lost. Bellatrix's hair was out of its elevated configuration, and hang freely.

'Shall we?' she nodded towards the bed.

The two sat in the middle of the bed with the open book between them.

'The clothing stays on.' Bellatrix continued. 'There will be no flowing into any other options.'

As if by its own accord the pages started to flip only to first pause on topic 206, then 207, and finally 304.

'Salazar!' Bellatrix snapped her fingers sharply in a pinching motion, and the book snapped closed.

'Sure, whatever.' Hermione wanted to get through option 101 first without any major issues before exploring anything else.

'So?…'

'So..'

'Alright...' Hermione flipped the book back open on Topic 101. 'Which one you'd rather be, Witch One or Witch Two?'

Hermione knew what her own preference would be. However, in her mind this was still part of Bellatrix's decision-making.

'One,' Bellatrix rubbed her left forearm absentmindedly, 'unless-'

'No, no, that works.' Better than expected...

Bellatrix waved the book off the bed.

It landed on the floor; still open at the topic in question.

"..SPOONING (a form of cuddling) -
is an excellent starting option for new partners at the beginning of their intimate journey.
It builds physical intimacy, and increases feelings of happiness and safety.

..In this position, both witches lie facing the same direction.
W1's back presses against W2 front. W2 arms wrap around W1.
The position of arms and legs for both witches may vary. It should abide the witches' physical and emotional comfort levels.

..the position organically flows into sexual contact, see topics 206, 207, 304..."

Bellatrix settled the pillow just so and then flopped on her side.

'Afraid to have your back to me?'

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Bellatrix's back.

'I'm surprised you are not.'

The shoulder moved in a tiny shrug.

'Doesn't really matter…'

Time passed.

Hermione just sat there.

She knew she should move. The pause was becoming increasingly awkward. They'd already stayed in the Master bedroom twice as long as they usually did.

Instead... she just stared. Her mind ran on a loop of all possible ways her part in this arrangement could incur Bellatrix ire, and all possible ways all of this was some tricky plot on Bellatrix part.

Hermione was oblivious to the puzzled, then questioning, and, finally, annoyed glances sent her way. She certainly noticed when Bellatrix sat up, and half turned to glare.

'What is wrong with you, Miss Granger?! You wanted something different. You wanted more. You wanted no purple stick. And you act like... like I have a dragon pox or... worse!'

The book flew to rest in front of Hermione.

'Go ahead, why don't you pick!' The pages started to flip all on their own. ' Which more do you actually want? I won't object. Is it about permission? You have it. Or do you need it in writing?!'

Despite the fiery tone, black eyes weren't angry, they were... uncertain.

Hermione hoped she read the witch correctly and Bellatrix was truly in a non-violent state of mind. She ignored the words and the tone, and instead leaned in and wrapped her arms around the dark witch.

Bellatrix fell silent. Between Hermione's awkward lunge and Bellatrix half-turned sitting position, the two wobbled precariously. A moment later a warm hand sneaked under Hermione shirt to rest on her waist.

Presumably, for balance.

Yet, the very next moment, in replay of the more regretful evening of Hermione's life, the two lost their balance and toppled onto the bed. Unlike during that evening, Hermione fell on her own back, while Bellatrix was mostly on her side and only partially on top of Hermione.

Bellatrix went to move up and away, but Hermione's arms tightened around her. So she willed herself to relax.

'What do you wish me to do?' She muttered quietly into the place most of her face resided on at the moment, the side of Hermione's breast.

'Nothing. Merlin!' Hermione squeaked, dropped her arms from around the dark witch, and cleared her throat. 'You don't have to do anything. 101 is a good option. I don't know why I'm being weird. I overthought things, and froze, and look at me now.'

Bellatrix gave a puff of amusement.

Hermione's nipple hardened. She bit back a whimper.

This was awkward.

This was embarrassing.

This was hell... or, at the very least, the punishment for her indecisiveness.

'Can we try again?' Surely having Bellatrix's back flash to her chest was a safer option than having her head remain where it was.

The two awkwardly rearranged themselves.

After some fuss with her pillow, and a quick look to confirm Hermione was showing signs of life, Bellatrix settled back on her side.

Hermione had one arm going under her head and her pillow. The other arm though...

Hermione contemplated the situation.

She rested her free arm at her side. That defeated the purpose of the activity though. Bellatrix was correct. Hermione did ask for more.

Her hand hovered over Bellatrix's hip. She paused. What if it slid dangerously low, upset her balance, again, and landed her on top of the witch, again...

Her hand moved to hover over Bellatrix's waist. What if-

All Hermione's wonderings stopped.

Bellatrix scooted backwards until her back was flush against Hermione's front. She then reached for Hermione's frozen hovering hand and pushed it up towards her shoulder.

'Miss Granger... Was it not your intention to have a closer contact?'

Hermione rested her hand lightly on Bellatrix's shoulder.

Somehow being there like that felt more awkward to Hermione than even their first attempts at consummation; and more intimate than pretty much anything they'd done before.

Bellatrix had to be feeling just as awkward. The thin fingers kept tapping some unknown melody into the pillow. And the witch breathed so lightly, seemingly just enough not to die or faint. Though Hermione wasn't entirely certain about not fainting part.

And really if both of them didn't relax soon they'd strain all the major muscles in their backs and necks and who knows where else.

She needed a distraction, for both of them.

'Bellatrix, what does it mean to be a natural in mind magic? The book says such people are the most dangerous of practitioners, that only they should even attempt that other magic.' That earned her a loud inhale and a narrowed glance over the shoulder. 'Which I stayed away from.' She added quickly.

A hum of disbelief.

'How would I know?'

Hermione snorted.

'Fine, yes... Mind magic does run in the family. Both, the Blacks and the Rosiers. That's my parents' lines. That's simply how the mind works. There is no form, no method, no rules, not like the taught skill has. Can't predict mind limits exactly, can't know its tricks. Hard to break into, hard to defend from.'

'You are a natural occlumens?..'

'I'm both, but I care more about my own stuff...'

'And Mrs. Malfoy?'

Bellatrix fell silent. The fingers returned to tapping for some moments. Until the shoulder under Hermione's hand gave a tiny shrug.

'Both too, though opposite.'

'As in she is more interested in Legilimency?'

'Useful when you have the high society to please, or dangerous people to host…'

'And Mrs. Tonks?'

The body in Hermione's arms stiffened. Only then she noticed just how much both of them relaxed while talking.

'Come on, Bellatrix. What if she reads my mind every Friday, and I don't even know?!'

That earned her a very strong puff of air and a tiny noise to go along with it. Bellatrix relaxed into her once again.

'Hardly. You'd notice. She's like a bloody hippogryph in a snake pit. Doubt that changed.' Bellatrix ran a finger along part of Hermione's forearm she could reach without moving much. 'Is it not odd to talk about my sisters in our bed?.. Are you trying to tell me something, Miss Granger?..'

The distraction left the tingling paths up and down Hermione's arm. So it took some moments for the words to sink in.

'Wha- NO!'

Hermione stuttered. Bellatrix hummed.

Hermione didn't want the evening to end. Who knew when and if Bellatrix would be in the mood for such interaction again. However there was no way Hermione was going back to the previous conversation.

'Do you want to show me your memory,' jumped as if on its own accord from her mouth, 'or...'

Bellatrix glanced back at Hermione intrigued. If she noticed the renewed tension in Hermione she didn't acknowledge it.

'I haven't practiced… Obviously. But I've read the book, and I have no ulterior motives... the book said it helps to have no agenda... at first…'

Bellatrix hummed noncommittally.

'Alright. You can attempt the spell. And Miss Granger, if you try anything, anything at all, you might not leave my mind with all of yours intact.'

Hermione gulped. Her innate curiosity and stubbornness didn't let her to back down, however.

'I won't, I promise. I'll follow your lead... if I even get there.'

Bellatrix motioned for Hermione to proceed.

..Hermione found herself standing near a window of a sunlit study. There were two people in the room. Neither looked particularly happy. Yet, the sense of the memory was that of content and well-being.

Bellatrix looked to be around 14 or 15 years old.

Her clothing was lighter. Her hair was orderly, styled into an elaborate braid. Even her wand appeared to be lighter and straighter.

An imposing man sat behind the large desk in front of her.

Same black curls, same hooded eyes, same regal features and the same furrow of the eyebrows.

'Father, I must discuss this with you.'

'Not again, Bella, we've-'

'But you said it was never done, that it is not natural, that this is Muggle's corruption. But Father, I've never even seen a Muggle, and I stay away from Muggle-borns at school, how could I get any Muggle corruption? I could not. It is our current customs that go against nature! It is these customs that we adopted in the Dark Ages from Muggles that betray nature!'

'Bellatrix!' the large fist hit the desk making everything on it rattle.

The teen was not deterred.

The heavy load of levitating books was finally let go and thundered on the desk in front of the wizard. The rattling effect rivaled that of the fist slam.

'Family journals. History books.'

'Be as it may, this day in our society this is not acceptable.'

'But it is. Maybe not in stuffy Britain, but other places-'

'You are in Britain! We are in Britain!'

Several books levitated closer to the wizard's side of the desk, and thundered in front of him spilling his drink.

'Customs of different Wizarding Societies. We are Blacks! Why must we conform to anything?!'

'It is just not done, Bella'

The teen folded her arms and looked down her nose at the wizard.

'You have no sons, Father, don't you want your story to continue? Not Orion's. Yours. If I marry a witch, she will take my name, your name. Our children will carry the name, history and customs of your line. Think about that.'

With that young Bellatrix whirled around; paused; whirled back; grabbed handful of raisins from the bowl on her father's desk; and with the final look down her nose headed for the doors.

Hermione was staring at the wizard expecting violence. It was obvious Bellatrix landed several blows with her short outburst.

The wizard didn't move.

Instead the top book from the pile Bellatrix left behind flew and slammed the wizard in the chest...

Everything went black...

Hermione landed into her own mind not a moment after the study door in the vision slammed closed.

During the spell her hand slid from Bellatrix's shoulder, and wrapped around the witch's waist, under her shirt. Bellatrix appeared ignorant or purposefully indifferent to the fact. Actually, it was almost as if the witch was leaning into her even more than before. Which was hardly possible... So Hermione decided take the same approach, and not to notice a thing.

'What would you've done if your father agreed?'

Bellatrix looked over her shoulder.

'Picked a witch.' She stated slowly as if suddenly doubting her bed companion's comprehension skills. 'It was highly unlikely. Father knew I'd call his bluff if he called mine.'

'So… do you- hm…do you… well… does it mean you don't prefer witches? or that you do?..'

Bellatrix looked over her shoulder again, an unreadable look in her eyes.

'I prefer not to think in such terms.' She finally said. 'There is a marriage, and one's duties within it.'

Bellatrix clearly didn't wish to continue with this line of questions, so Hermione let it go.

That however brought the questions of why and what. The witch picked the memory for a reason. There had to be particular something to take away from it or get interested in and ask questions about.

Soon after Bellatrix pushed Hermione's arm away and slid off the bed.

She summoned her dress from the closet and headed for the doors.

'Your PJs are acceptable, Miss Granger. I expect black ones for the next time.'

Looked like they were doing the same thing next time...

Several pairs of flannel pants and cotton shirts were bound to be cheaper than the magic ring was.

'And Granger, arrange for the meeting... with Andromeda.'

Hermione blinked at the closed door in disbelief.

Bellatrix was awfully cooperative this weekend.

End of Chapter 38