Chapter 55: The Mixed Feelings, Part 1

The events of November 1998 on the premises of the Black Grotto House were too consequential, too ripe with emotional complexities, too peppered with questions and secrets for Hermione Granger and Bellatrix Lestrange to easily talk about and move on from. Unfortunately, neither Hermione nor Bellatrix, or, possibly, Hermione and Bellatrix together, in relation to each other, while nursing individual hurts, possessed enough patience and compassion for each other to deal with the situation productively.

At least, not right away.

Hermione yearned for clarity.

She needed to understand the how's and why's in order to put the events, and her own actions, into perspective; to stop thinking of herself in endless turns as either a calculated killer or as Bellatrix's pawn.

She needed to know Bellatrix's side of the story to stop second-guessing the witch's every word and every action of the last few months; to stop anticipating new treachery at every turn; to stop dreading the new break-ins onto the island.

She needed to know what the Head of Family really meant, and how she came about that title in order to understand what exactly Bellatrix cursed... charmed... manipulated her into. And why!

Bellatrix did not yearn to help Hermione find the answers.

Bellatrix felt trapped and exposed. Literally and figuratively. She was several kinds of angry almost at the same time, almost all the time.

Seething-angry; helpless-angry; furious-angry; sad-angry; crazed-angry; angry-angry...

The Ballroom Situation day hadn't even come to close when the two witches had their first words.

Hermione's hands were full of comfort food. Her mind was full of thoughts about the opportunities lost.

The last thing she expected was to run into Bellatrix.

At one point, Hermione saw Bellatrix outside, huddled under the tree where Rabastan had died, where Bellatrix herself had been tortured. That was hours ago. Hermione assumed the witch retired for the night.

Yet there Bellatrix was, leaning heavily against a column by the stairs, dripping water all around, and glaring at Hermione for no good reason.

'Nice walk?' blurted Hermione.

Bellatrix's recently knitted bones ached. Accessing her magic was an effort, once again. Even Lumos, one of the easiest spells, refused to work as intended. To add injury to the insult, Bellatrix's forehead spotted a nasty stinging gash, the courtesy of traversing the orchards in the dark.

Rabastan's demise felt like a poor consolation for all the trouble at that moment. Bellatrix didn't even remember his inexcusably quick death.

Hours outside failed to help clear her mind.

Her plan for dealing with Hermione continued to vacillate between despaired full-disclosure and obstinate absolute-silence.

Yet, there Hermione stood. In her Muggle PJs. With a wand stuck in her hair. And a plate full of sweets in her hands.

Bellatrix frowned at the plate and preemptively glared at Hermione. The two were better not be headed towards Bellatrix's room, to trap Bellatrix into a conversation already.

'They are off the island,' said Bellatrix.

'Guessed as much,' Hermione fought hard not to roll her eyes.

'Have you removed their welcome to the island?'

Hermione steeled her resolve.

'From the Minister.'

Dark eyes narrowed.

'And the Holy Potter?'

'Harry is my friend, and will stay welcome'

'And if I don't wish a person who wants me dead to have access to my house?'

The nerve! thought Hermione recalling Rabastan Lestrange unimpeded access and dueling in the orchards.

Bellatrix knew Rabastan had access to the island. Hermione was certain. Bellatrix was not surprised. Scared but not surprised. And she had never said anything. Either the dark witch planned an escape, and the two Death Eaters had a falling out at the last moment; or there was some back story between the two and Bellatrix counted on Hermione to have no plan but to defend them and kill the wizard.

Hermione didn't know which was preferable: Bellatrix scheming to escape, or Bellatrix setting her up to kill.

In either case, Hermione didn't have the energy for that discussion.

'Our house!' She snapped instead. 'The wards have proven, you are perfectly safe! Don't think I haven't noticed how you bated Harry!'

Bellatrix pushed off the column, her hands clenched angrily.

Seeing Potter had led to a few questionable actions on her part.

Trying to have the wards to do away with her Lord's killer was a split of the moment idea. She didn't regret it. It was a good idea. It would have succeeded too. If the girl wasn't there.

Attempting to leave with the wizards, on the other hand… Bellatrix blamed her muddled mind for that ridiculous venture. She likely would have failed to get to Potter. And, avoiding the girl didn't need to be that drastic. And surely, there was no other reason for that silliness.

'Whatever you mean, pet?' Bellatrix smirked faintly. 'Potter's poor self-control is not of my doing!'

Hermione had no patience for that that evening.

'Of course not! Nothing ever is!' her voice rose.

'I don't want him on the island!' Bellatrix demanded, just as loudly, refusing to get side-tracked.

'None of this would have turned into such a disaster if Harry had the access in the first place! I could have called him for help! But no!'

Hermione couldn't believe she was standing in the middle of a hallway, with a plate full of sweets in hand, shouting at Bellatrix.

She was so upset she didn't want to stop shouting. The witch was beyond infuriating. Unreasonable. Entitled. After everything Hermione had to do. Everything Hermione had lost.

Yes, Bellatrix somehow wrangled a concession out of the Minister about Hermione's work ban. Pretty effortlessly, too. At the moment, it felt like no concession at all. A decade with nothing meaningful to do seemed like forever.

'I delayed! I thought of your feelings on the matter! And look where it left me!'

'You?! Where it left you?! I nearly died! I was tortured!'

'And I am the one without a future!' Hermione was committed to for once think of herself first.

And Bellatrix was committed to make things... more complicated still.

'If you killed him as I told you, as I taught you-'

Hermione wanted to scream. And she did. It was a lie after a lie after a lie with the witch.

'I knew it! Merlin! I knew it! Even that! Even helping me out with DADA was a set up! How long have you planned all this?! How long, Bellatrix?!'

Without meaning to, Hermione took a few steps toward Bellatrix.

Bellatrix's gaze, and tone, turned more heated, her gestures more wild.

'I was helping! And none of this would have happened if you hadn't played a bloody hero! I would not have needed a healer! No one would have needed to come into the House! And no one would have seen your silly project! And nothing would have changed for your stupid future!'

Hermione glared at the plate still in her hand. She half-dropped half-slammed it on the floor. And felt bad immediately after. Destruction for the sake of destruction was clearly not her thing.

'I'm not a killer!'

Bellatrix smirked faintly.

'You are, now.'

Hermione glanced regretfully at the broken plate. She should have hurled it into Bellatrix's infuriating self!

'So that's it?' She blinked away the upset. The statement, said so plainly, so mockingly, hurt. 'That's why you wouldn't take the wand? So I could be like you?!..'

Bellatrix looked away. She breathed heavily unsure about her next words. She ran her hand through her wind-blown hair. She bit her lip till it bled. Hermione's stomach roiled at the sight.

'You know nothing!' snapped Bellatrix finally.

Hermione folded her arms. She knew plenty.

'I know he was your brother-in-law. And your ally. I know he shouldn't have had access to the island. And yet he had it. I know you had plenty of opportunities to kill him! The wand was right there! And yet you didn't! Should I even bother asking why?! Do you even know why?!'

Bellatrix looked down her nose at Hermione.

'I don't have to explain myself!'

Outraged, Hermione fell silent for a moment. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out the water. She finally settled on a simple, but very loud, yes you have to! but Bellatrix was already speaking.

'I had nothing to do with your silly project! I told you it was silly! And I most definitely didn't make you send anything out! This is absolutely your stupid doing!' And, just in case Hermione missed her point, Bellatrix poked Hermione chest and added, loudly, 'Yours, and not mine!'

'I wouldn't have sent those things in the first place if not for you! If you weren't...' Hermione stopped abruptly, then finished with much less fervor, 'you.'

'If I weren't what?'

'Nothing. The point is-'

Bellatrix frowned. She was not in the mood. She had plenty of her own handmade slights to answer for. She wasn't about to allow Hermione add to them.

'When exactly did I cause this terrible misstep?'

'Just let it go, Bellatrix! I misspoke, alright!'

Bellatrix whirled around and walked, as fast as her limping leg would allow, towards the floo-enabled study.

'I'm sure Potter would be delighted to tell me when your oldest communication came!'

Hermione let out a frustrated breath.

'Yes, Harry is ever so eager for a chat with you!' Hermione called at Bellatrix back.

'He could be! With a proper incentive!'

Bellatrix was not hard to catch up to.

'Merlin, just let it be!' Hermione grabbed for Bellatrix's arm but missed.

'When!' Bellatrix stopped with her hand on the closed study door's handle.

Hermione's hand hovered over Bellatrix's. She hesitated to touch the witch.

'When?!' Bellatrix screeched.

Hermione took several steps back.

'In early August... after the first time we... you know... You were... different...'

In the privacy of Hermione's mind, the reasoning made sense. The action felt more justified with such reasoning. That encounter was in fact the catalyst of the first mail. Aloud though, the words sounded off, unfair and unreasonable. Half-heartedly, Hermione stumbled through.

'Distressed… You were distressed... And I was disgusted with myself... And with everyone who mandated the… you know… I wanted to humiliate all of them.'

Bellatrix let go of the door knob.

She took a step towards Hermione. Then another one. And another. Until there was barely any space left.

Her pale face was filled with color by the time Hermione's eyes met hers.

Bellatrix bit her lip anew.

Hermione winced at the red-stained teeth.

'I was NOT distressed!' Bellatrix spat the last words with particular vehemence. Droplets of spit, or blood, landed on Hermione's cheek. She didn't dare to check which. 'Everything was fine. But you must have a problem! You must have something to fix! Perfect little hero!'

The witch let out an unintelligible scream, then grabbed onto her head as if to keep it from exploding.

'Bellatrix...' Hemione muttered.

Barely a step of space was left between her and Bellatrix.

She tried to take another step back. There was nowhere further to back away to. A wall was at her back.

'If it was different- if I was different-' Bellatrix continued in an angry halting mutter, 'if I was... as you had imagined me to be... when your shaking wand pointed at me that evening-'

Hermione barely breathed. This level of fury had not been directed at her at the Grotto yet.

'You... you would have still mailed those things, pet!'

Bellatrix's voice became louder with each new sentence.

'You would have hated me! And you would have wanted to get back at them! For making you marry me! For trapping you with me!'

A hand landed heavily on Hermione's shoulder squeezing painfully.

Hermione would have found some irony in the dark witch using her as a crutch while listing her grievances… if she wasn't so terrified.

Bellatrix got nose to nose with Hermione.

'And even if I wasn't outright cruel-'

Hermione didn't hear the rest.

She was back in Malfoy Manor, more than she was in the Grotto. For Hermione, there was too little of a difference between the crazed blacks from the past, and the incensed blacks from the present to grab on to. The shrill voice. The painful grip. Even the smell of damp clothing was too similar to whatever the Manor's floor smelt of.

Hermione came back to the silence of the Grotto hallway.

Bellatrix stood straight if a bit wobbly, silent and calm, observing her mockingly. Hermione's wand was at her neck.

Slowly, the dark witch leaned back in ignoring the vinewood digging into her flesh.

'Still rather I was different these past few months?' Bellatrix spat bitterly.

She straightened once more, and after a long look at Hermione limped toward the stairs.

Hermione waited till Bellatrix started up the stairs before moving.

She vanished the food mess from the floor. There was no way she'd fall asleep any time soon. Yet, snacking or drinking was out of the question. She looked back at the direction of the small study.

She might as well see if Harry was up.

'Stay out of it,' Hermione startled at the hissed warning.

She looked up.

Bellatrix disappeared from sight in the second floor hallway.

Narcissa stood frozen at the top of the stairs. Likely prompted out of the guest room by their shouting.

End of Chapter 55