Chapter 45: Truth or Dare
Hermione's three days away from the Grotto gave her time and space to reflect.
She admitted that she might have overreacted...
A little.
She didn't regret voicing her frustrations, not with the interactions between them, and not with the ugly opinions the dark witch likely still shared. Hermione didn't realize how much glossing over those things bothered her... not until the words started pouring out.
The setting and the tone of that conversation could have been better though. She shouldn't have lumped everything together, not if she wanted a meaningful conversation rather than the furious monologue it dissolved into...
Bellatrix didn't show on Thursday when Hermione returned from Hogwarts for the week.
Or the day after.
Or the day after that.
Hermione knew Bellatrix was still on the island.
Every morning, she got an elven mail. The little creatures with disapproving frowns popped up on her nightstand just when she was about to get up, squeaked Mistress Bella's busy and won't be joining you for the day, and disappeared right after.
She saw elves preparing food Bellatrix favored when she dropped by the kitchens to prepare her own; saw glimpses of the black-clad witch around the island; and, though feeling like a Peeping Tom, she even spied the lights in Bellatrix's bedroom windows in the evenings.
Bellatrix came down for breakfast on Sunday, and the day went on mostly as usual, DADA tutoring and the tea with Narcissa included.
And on the surface it appeared as if everything returned to normal.
Only it wasn't the same.
Bellatrix wasn't the same.
The dark witch was unnaturally worryingly formal.
There were no amused puffs when Hermione had trouble putting the book away during a meal. There were no quirky, and occasionally dark, commentary on the Prophet's news and opinion columns. There were no suggestions for less than light application for the topics Hermione studied.
Bellatrix joined Hermione for most meals. She kept her end of conversation if Hermione started it. She responded to questions and gave her opinions, if asked. And without fail she was gone after a polite enough time for a visit passed.
Hermione knocked on the closed door and waited.
It was just an hour after dinner. Bellatrix had to still be up.
She knocked again, and waited some more.
Eventually, the door opened.
Bellatrix was dressed in a black long sleeve top and black tartan pants with a faint grey-white pattern. Her long unruly curls were collected into a loose braid. The more rebellious strands hang freely around her face.
The witch might have been on her way to bed after all.
'What?'
Hermione wiped sweaty palm on her jeans.
Her plan suddenly felt less brilliant.
'Here,' she held a bottle out.
Surprised, Bellatrix took the item.
'You brought me wine?..'
'Mrs. Malfoy said it is your favorite… from her wine cellar.'
Dark flat gaze dropped to inspect the item.
'Why?'
'I want to spend the evening with you-'
'And the wine is what?… a payment?! Liquid courage in place of the lust potion you accused me of taking! I don't-'
Bellatrix's words faded as Hermione's world started to split.
She hated the dark witch's returned habit of switching back and forth between shrill and seething when she got angry. She hated her ability to get angry, period. Hermione missed the time when Bellatrix tone was just one flat monotone.
Hermione glued her eyes to the plaid material and to the toes peeking from under the oversized pants. Bellatrix of the Manor wouldn't have been caught dead barefoot and dressed in Muggle-made clothing. Hermione forced the when of the situation to the front of her mind, and focused on that.
The space around her was quiet.
Bellatrix's foot was tapping impatiently.
'No!' Hermione cleared her throat. 'Not like that! What I meant is I want us to spend time together. Chatting. You are never anywhere anymore... So... Here I am.'
'We chat at breakfast, and at dinner.'
'Not like before.'
'Very well,' Bellatrix adjusted her grip on the wine, as she went to close the door. 'We'll chat as before tomorrow.'
'Wait!'
Bellatrix glared at Hermione, but the door stopped closing.
'I'm already here. And... you aren't sleeping… Can we spend time now? Maybe?'
Bellatrix kept glaring, silently.
'We... we can go downstairs or to the Master or to my r-'
With a loud sigh Bellatrix pushed the door a bit wider, and disappeared inside.
Hermione looked curiously around the room.
This was the first time since July, since she tried to suffocate the unconscious witch, that she was there.
The space was still separated into three areas: a bedroom, a sitting room, and a study.
The sleeping area, the only part of the room Hermione remembered vividly, held the same four poster bed which still had its tall posts but was now missing the canopy and curtains.
The sitting area was centered around the fireplace. It had a sofa, armchair and several small coffee tables. The armchair sat alarmingly close to the fireplace, and looked well-used. The sofa on the other hand looked brand new.
The study area included a large desk, a chair, and a tall shelf with books, scrolls, and supplies. Several thick books sat on the desk. Broken quills and crumpled parchments littered the floor around it. Framed Prophet's front page from the day Bellatrix was broken out of Azkaban, picture Bellatrix forever straining in her chains, hang on the wall above the desk.
Hermione pulled her eyes away from the disturbing image.
Even though the set up resembled every other bedroom in the house, the furnishings made it so very different. The generic summer house colors and features were gone. The space looked like a photo negative of that decor.
The walls were black. The wall accents were silver. The parquet floor was in the shades of black and grey. The ceiling and the crystal chandeliers were black too.
The large thick rugs were off-white. The heavy wooden furniture was stained grayish-white.
The fabrics on the sofa, chairs, and bed were in the shades of dark grays and muted violets. Bellatrix was serious about liking the color. Though, thankfully, the colors used in the room were elegantly understated.
The decorative throws and pillows were light, as were the whisper-thin window curtains.
The bedlinen peeking from under the carelessly thrown over cover was black or something close to black.
'Are you done with the sight-seeing?'
Bellatrix was sitting on the sofa observing Hermione. The opened bottle with filled glasses sat on the coffee table.
They sipped wine for a quarter of an hour in silence.
'Is this sufficient before time?'
Hermione sighed. This wasn't turning out the way she had imagined. The ease which started to appear in their interactions was not there anymore.
'About the other night, I'm sorry if-'
Black eyes flashed.
'I don't wish to discuss that evening.' Bellatrix rose sharply barely avoiding spilling the wine all over the sofa. 'Leave! If that's why you are here, leave!'
Hermione took in the rigid stance, the clenched fist, and the careful way the witch put the glass on the mantel before grabbing the armchair's back.
She was seconds away from being kicked out of the room. That was clear.
She thought of her options.
Something to change the mood and the direction might keep her put.
Something unexpected...
She took a sip.
'Would you like to play a game?'
Black eyes lost some of the anger.
'Excuse me?'
'A game. To get to know each other better… or get alcohol poisoning trying.'
When Bellatrix didn't immediately object, Hermione summoned an elf. With many please and thank you's... and an eyeroll or two from the older witch... she asked the creature to retrieve the firewhiskey bottle with orange glow from kitchen storage, and to fix a bowl of snacks for them.
Several days after Weasley's Wedding she received the whole colorful set of Ogden's Specials. "For keeping things fresh. GW, with FW in heart" said the accompanying note before bursting into tiny fireworks which spelled 'F*** the Ministry'.
The occasion felt like the right one for a taste of sunshine.
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the dark form relax slightly, and pick the wine glass back up.
Hermione looked around the spacious room. She wanted something less orderly then sitting a polite distance apart on the sofa. So she grabbed several decorative pillows from the sofa, threw them on top of the thick rug in front of the fireplace. Bellatrix usually liked the vicinity of the fire…
Hermione sat down in front of the fireplace and reached for the open wine bottle to refill her glass.
The elf brought requested items, looked around the room, popped off and returned immediately with the trays to keep the glasses and bottles steady on the rug.
Bellatrix stepped around the armchair and joined Hermione.
'What is this game?' The older witch's tone was arrogantly indifferent but her eyes were bright with curiosity.
That was a good question...
'Truth or Dare. Do you know about it?'
Hermione didn't plan for any game. Suddenly all the dubious tasks, embarrassing questions and occasional hurt feelings from her games with friends popped up in her mind... The game would need some adjustment to work for the two of them for any length of time.
'I assume the name tells all I need to know?'
'Exactly... Usually, the choice is either or. You pick to answer a question or to perform a task from another player...' Hermione sipped some more of her wine to give herself time to think. 'Let's still start with a question or a task, but if the first choice is too disagreeable, there'd be an option to switch: the question to a task, and the task to a question.'
Bellatrix must have reached the same conclusion, as she simply nodded.
'The same question or task shouldn't be used twice by the same person,' added Bellatrix.
'That's fair. And the tasks have to be reasonable and safe. No unforgivables or jumping off cliffs or something like that!'
'That's… fair. What if I don't wish to do either?..' Bellatrix looked suspiciously at Hermione.
'Hm… well…If both the question and the task are disagreeable, for either of us… the game would be over… but maybe let's have an option to change the mind back to the original choice?'
'Fine.'
'Alright then, do you want to start or-'
'What of the winnings?'
'What?'
'How do we decide on the winner and what's the prize?'
'Uhm… there's usually no winner.'
'What type of game has no winner?'
Of course the witch wanted a result and a prize…
'Alright… how about points? Say, three points - on the first go, two points - if requested a switch, and one point - for going back to the original?'
'Fine'
'Alright, how many questions are you ok with?'
'Ten... each. Then we count the points.'
'Whoever gets less points each round drinks a shot, and if it's even, both of us drink…'Hermione paused thinking of the number of rounds Bellatrix suggested. 'Half a shot, if it's even both of us drink half a shot.'
'You are serious about the alcohol poisoning.' Bellatrix smirked thinly but nodded her agreement.
Hermione summoned the writing materials from the desk. She charmed the quill to record the points when instructed. She then wrote out the rules and showed Bellatrix for approval.
'What should be the prize?'
Bellatrix thought awhile. Hermione suspected a wand to be on the top of the dark witch's list given the frequent longing looks her own got. That wasn't an option, of course. Bellatrix had to have understood that...
'I want to pick the next portrait you create trouble for.'
There had to be a catch somewhere, but ultimately none of the people on the portraits would remain unbothered…
'Alright'
The quill wrote out Bellatrix's prize on the parchment.
Hermione had a lot of ideas for her own prize, but many she suspected would stop the game before it even started. She needed something impersonal enough but believably desirable enough…
'I want you to show me how you read my diary without breaking the privacy enchantments.'
The witch puffed the amused breath.
'I don't know what you are talking about.'
'Come on, Bellatrix! There is a trace enchantment on it. I know you were able to read some of it.'
'Some?..'
Hermione smirked.
The witch puffed another amused breath.
'Very well.'
The quill recorded Hermione's prize next to her name.
Later, recalling her questions and her answers, Hermione found many ways she could have used the opportunity better.
She didn't plan on any sort of Q&A. She wanted to clear the air; apologize if necessary; talk about that night's events, and the accusations and frustrations she voiced... very one-sidedly.
Yet, Bellatrix dismissed that outright.
So she had to improvise.
And maybe it was good she didn't have an agenda. Bellatrix could have easily just kicked her out if she felt manipulated.
The first few rounds went quickly. Both witches favored simple factual questions. Both were secretly surprised by the number of potential easy questions they discarded because they knew the answer.
XXX
Hermione was surprised to learn Bellatrix's favorite class was Care of Magical Creatures.
'Why? What did you think? DADA?' A dismissive puff. 'I could perform OWL and NEWT level spells years ahead, but creatures… There were only owls and Aethonans on the estate... And we weren't allowed beasts at home.' A pout. 'Except for Narcissa's puppy, from the sunroom portrait. And she wasn't magical.'
Contrary to Hermione's assumptions young Bellatrix's dream beast was not a dragon or chimaera or something just as intimidating, but a fairly ordinary kneazle.
XXX
Bellatrix was in no way surprised that Divination was Hermione's least favorite subject, and actually regretted wasting the turn on such predictable information.
And she was only mildly surprised that Sorting Hat suggested both Ravenclaw and Slytherin as the second options for Hermione.
So it went until a fairly innocuous question opened the door for dares.
XXX
'So… when is your birthday?'
Bellatrix smirked.
'I want to switch to a dare.'
'Seriously?'
This was so utterly ridiculous in Hermione's opinion she gave a dare she knew Bellatrix won't perform.
'Kiss me'
Black eyes narrowed at her.
'You can always choose to answer the question.'
'And lose another point?'
Hermione was sure the witch would back out despite the protest. Instead Bellatrix slid the short distance between them, leaned in, touched her lips to the younger witch's cheek, smirked and slid back to her spot.
'You are serious about keeping it a mystery, aren't you?' muttered Hermione.
XXX
'Order elf to get a new bowl of snacks... without please and thank you and similar sentiments.'
They each were just three half-shots in before Bellatrix had to drink the full one after switching to a dare. They did do a quick work of the snacks though. But was it necessary to be rude while asking for more?
'Bellatrix! They don't like me already!'
'They don't like you because you talk to them weirdly and they don't know what to expect from you, an assignment or a clothing item!'
The snacks did get refilled even as Hermione was quite mortified.
XXX
'What did you think the first time you saw me? Did you know I was a Muggle-born?'
'In the Department of Mysteries?' Hermione nodded, a bit surprised the witch so easily recalled the event. 'I thought that you looked a lot like Andromeda in the days just before she left; jeans, sweaters, bothered hair. So yes, I guessed that you were the Potter's m- witch, and not the other two.'
'Bothered hair?'
'That's a second question!'
'That's a clarification'
'Fine. Overmodified, not curly, not straight.'
XXX
And as more whiskey shots were consumed, the questions turned more personal, and a few more dares came into play.
XXX
'Why didn't you want Weasley? Didn't you know you'd end up in the Ministry Matchings?.. Or was there someone you fancied who disappeared on you?'
'That's way more than one question, Bellatrix!'
'Those are clarifications, to help you answer.'
'Nope, I want a dare.'
Dark eyes lit up.
'Truly?'
'Yes. What is it?'
'Floo call Narcissa, right now, and thank her for her thoughtful gift. Emphasize thoughtful.'
'Just that?'
'Yes'
Bellatrix looked too happy.
'What was the gift?'
'That's not important'
Hermione hated loosing two points in one go, but the witch was just too cheerful. So instead she explained the Ron situation.
'It felt like we… like I was going through the motions… after the year we had maybe even a little before that... I didn't feel as much for him... I was going to give us a fair shot over the summer, maybe even try living together as Ron wanted… but not under the seven year commitment over our heads. Honestly, I was tempted to reconsider but Ron wasn't fighting for it and everything was happening so fast…'
XXX
'Answer the Ministry Quiz questions we filled together with the truth quill.'
Bellatrix checked the tally, thought whether she wanted to switch her choice to a question.
'There were four questions. That's four dares.'
'They are on one test'
'But they'd have different answers.'
'Fine, complete one with the truth quill. The last one.'
Bellatrix summoned the scroll and the quill. Hermione noted curiously that the scroll flew from the nightstand and not from the desk.
'Rate physical intimacy...'
Hermione's brows rose. The green ink refused to form into 6, just as she expected, but formed into a 5 without issue, as she certainly didn't expect.
XXX
Bellatrix didn't wish to talk about her biggest regret, but neither did Hermione when the witch mirrored the question to her. So the round turned into the exchange of dares.
'Shout Molly Weasley is a better witch out the window,' tasked Hermione. For a moment it looked like Bellatrix would end the game. Instead she asked whether out the window was really necessary. Then, looking like she was tortured, Bellatrix whisper-shouted the sentiment... And her warning glare told Hermione who was unsuccessfully stifling her giggles to pick her battles. Hermione wasn't about to complain about the volume. She had trouble believing that happened at all.
'Cast a corporeal Patronus,' tasked Bellatrix after Hermione picked the dare in place of the biggest regret question Bellatrix mirrored to her.
Hermione did so a little remorseful about her own task for the witch. Bellatrix appeared to be delighted with the show. And that gave Hermione idea for an easy question to ask in the final rounds.
XXX
The table on their tally scroll was almost completely filled. Only one spot, for Hermione's score in the last round, was left.
Hermione's worry that the game would turn into something ugly and strategic didn't turn true. Bellatrix's questions didn't stay superficial, but they didn't turn mean, and neither did her dares. And Hermione knew they could have. If anything her own curiosity got the better of her on several occasions.
XXX
'If you had to marry one of my sisters, which one'd you pick?'
Hermione gaped at the witch. She should have just picked a dare!
'Where are you in this little scenario?'
'Molly killed me, of course. Didn't you hear she is a better witch?' Bellatrix singsonged and Hermione, try as she might, couldn't decide whether the witch was truly annoyed or simply sarcastic.
It didn't matter though. There was no good way to answer the question and not have it come back to bite her later on.
'Dare. I'm switching to a dare!'
Black eyes danced.
'Really?'
'Really.'
'Kiss me.'
Hermione shot a startled look at Bellatrix. Black eyes met hers evenly.
Hermione shifted to her knees and slid the few feet separating them towards Bellatrix.
She gave the dark witch plenty of time to move away.
Her lips brushed lightly over the other witch's. Whether it was her Gryffindor's courage, the copious amounts of fire whiskey already consumed, or the sunny outlook the orange glowing whiskey promised, but when Bellatrix didn't move back she pressed their lips firmer together and felt the witch respond in kind.
'Well it appears we are at a draw…' Hermione reviewed the calculations again to be absolutely certain.
'Pity,' Bellatrix was putting her unruly hair back into a semblance of a braid. The dark witch didn't appear particularly unhappy by the lack of winnings.
Hermione vanished the empty bottles, dirty glasses, and empty snack dishes. She then straightened the living room, sent the pillows from the floor to their proper places, returned the writing implements to the coffee table, and Scourgified the rug.
Finally there was no reason to linger any longer.
'I wanted to say-' Bellatrix's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but Hermione was too tired for complicated discussions. 'I miss our usual chats, informal, with some life in them... and the... sleepovers... not Saturdays... well Saturdays were nice too... but the ones where we'd just talk and sleep.'
Hermione blinked at Bellatrix suddenly realizing she just said all that out loud.
After the night she stumbled on Bellatrix in the Master suite and stayed the night, the two spent several more intentional nights together, often talking or reading before going to sleep, careful to stay within the boundaries of their sides.
'We talked.'
'We did…' Hermione waited a moment then headed to the door. 'Good night, Bellatrix'
Pushing the dark witch hadn't worked well so far. And after five plus shots her judgement was bound to be impaired. The evening felt like success. No need to test her luck.
'The bed is large enough not to bother each other...'
With that the witch disappeared inside the ensuite.
The lights were out.
The black surface of the ceiling twinkled like the starry sky in the nonexistent light. And a very faint glow came from the fireplace shutters.
Hermione was on the window-side of the bed, and as close to the edge as possible without falling off. The bed was a bit smaller then in the Master bedroom, but just like with the Master, the older witch slept in its exact middle. Hermione didn't want to give the impression of asking for more than what Bellatrix had already permitted.
Bellatrix was awake. When Bellatrix slept, she was curled into herself, with arms either hugging her midsection or covering her head. At the moment she was just stretched on her side facing away from Hermione.
Hermione wondered whether the witch was thinking about their kiss. As kisses went, it was quite brief and absolutely chaste. No tongues. No wondering hands. Yet, it was playing on repeat at the back of Hermione's mind. The question of whether this was one more thing Bellatrix wouldn't want to talk about was also playing on repeat.
'It-It wasn't lust… it was a calming draught that you saw.'
That answered what Bellatrix was thinking about.
'Alright.'
'You know.'
'Guessed… eventually. I'm- I should have let you explain.'
Bellatrix was quiet for so long Hermione started to wonder if the witch fell asleep after all.
'I get angry when things are uncertain... or too much or... well... whatever really... Served me well over the years.' Bellatrix paused, and Hermione could clearly hear a deep breath before the witch spoke again. 'Didn't want to get angry then. You don't react too well when I'm angry.'
That was a big understatement. Hermione was much more in control over her reactions, but she still froze occasionally. Current evening was a perfect illustration to that.
'Alright.'
There was another long silence. Hermione started to nod off.
'..didn't take anything today… didn't know you would even come by tonight…'
Hermione started to say alright again then stopped.
There was no reason for the older witch to say anything... unless…
Idly wondering if she would get thrown out of the room after all, Hermione slowly rolled over closer to the other witch. She would blame her drunken brain if she did get thrown out.
She wound her arm around the still witch, and waited.
Bellatrix let out a long breath and relaxed into her.
End of Chapter 45
