Title: Impossible
Author:
perfect_pridePairing: Hermione/Bellatrix
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: It goes without saying that none of the Harry Potter world or its’ characters belong to me, unfortunately. Neither do the lyrics.
Warnings: Mental and physical abuse/torture.
Summary: Bellatrix abducts Hermione and keeps her prisoner, but an ancient magic threatens to change both their lives in ways they never thought were possible.
A/N: This fic begins during the summer months at the start of Deathly Hallows and complies with the events throughout the book. The timeline has been slightly adjusted at the start but it is barely noticeable. It takes into account events from the books and the films, but mainly the books as they are my favourite and provide greater detail. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 (film) wasn’t considered as I wrote this beforehand and I feel like the scenes I have written and slotted into the book version work better. I hope that makes sense, if not, please ask. Also, I have tried to keep the characters in-character despite the unlikely pairing. Feedback is welcome. :)
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Up until now I had sworn to myself that I'm content with loneliness
Because none of it was ever worth the risk
But you are the only exception
Paramore, The Only Exception
**
13.
By the time morning had arrived, nerves had set in for Hermione. She had prepared herself as best she could, making sure that she had the book carefully concealed (she had used a Reducio charm and slipped it into the pocket of her jeans) her wand held tightly in her hand, and the Invisibility Cloak thrown over her, ready to Apparate. She didn’t want to take too much with her just in case she could not return if she was captured, and had even been in two minds about whether to take the cloak. Harry however had insisted, and although she wasn’t sure he would be so encouraging if he knew where she was really going, she chose not to argue and to do as he said, aware that being invisible would aid her with her plan.
She had not slept well, and the little sleep she had managed to get had been filled with dreams of Bellatrix as usual. The dreams so far were like nothing she had ever experienced before; intense and real in ways that made her feel as though she were actually with Bellatrix. She remembered every aspect such as her facial details, the exact shade of her eyes and the way she dressed. Sometimes the dreams were pleasant, sometimes horrendous, morphing into each other in unrelated encounters that she could never quite see the link between. One minute Bellatrix was kissing her in the Forbidden Forest, and the next she was strangling her in the Slytherin Common Room. She was several different Bellatrix’s that looked exactly the same.
The Patronus she had sent to Lemmy the night before had been simple, merely saying:
“Lemmy, it is HG. Please tell Bellatrix that I need to speak with her and will arrive at Black Manor tomorrow at ten o’clock in the morning. Make sure Bellatrix is alone when you tell her this.”
She had opted for giving her initials so that it was not immediately clear who the Patronus was from. That way, if by some horrible fluke someone else had overheard they would not have easily guessed it to be her. Bellatrix was a smart witch; she would have known immediately who was sending her such a message, and hopefully she would have been intrigued enough to attend. Although Hermione had not asked her to be alone for the meeting, Bellatrix would have realised this was obvious, and so Hermione was not worried about her misinterpreting it, but just concerned for whether she would choose to betray her or not.
Fortunately, it had been surprisingly simple to reach Bellatrix’s home; it seemed that just picturing a place and not really having any idea of the real location made it possible to Apparate there. Upon her arrival, Hermione made sure that she was covered by the Invisibility Cloak before she actually entered the property. It was possible that there was protection placed around it, for although Hermione could see the house, she did not know what would happen when she stepped foot inside the grounds.
Taking the chance she had not been granted whilst fleeing from there initially, Hermione gazed up at the large manor before her. It stood alone (no other houses were even near to it from what Hermione could tell) and had vast, open grounds surrounding it, the green grass neatly trimmed. Hermione supposed that Lemmy must take care of the state of the gardens; she didn’t picture Bellatrix handling such menial duties when she was busy running around on behalf of Voldemort.
Deciding that she could put it off no longer, Hermione began to climb the giant, iron black gate before her, using the horizontal bars to hoist herself up and over. She hissed in pain as her jumper rode upwards, and she scraped her stomach along the spears sticking up. It was a decidedly Muggle way of entry, but she didn’t want to use any magic if she could help it, just in case that alerted Bellatrix to her presence. What she was doing was dangerous enough as it was, and any added potentially risky moves should be avoided.
Moving slowly, quietly, Hermione kept her wits about her as she made her way up the steps to the manor, her heart pounding in her chest. So far, so good, but that didn’t mean she could let down her guard yet. She had already decided on a plan of action which started with her knocking on the door. As soon as she had knocked, she moved back, pressing herself into the wall. She took as few breaths as possible, wanting to remain silent, and the thirty or so seconds that it took for the door to open seemed ten times as long.
Upon seeing Bellatrix appear, Hermione felt a rush in her chest and her knees quivered, despite the fact that the older witch had her wand out before her and was looking around furtively, brown eyes wide. Not wanting to make Bellatrix aware of her presence, (not yet anyway) Hermione slipped behind her into the manor, pressing her back to the wall to her left where she could still see Bellatrix moving around outside, presumably looking for her. The other woman had still not spoken, and seemed to be concentrating on her surroundings, her posture signalling that she was ready for any attack that might possibly come.
Eventually, Bellatrix re-entered the property, closing the door behind her. She looked confused. Maybe even a little worried, although Hermione couldn’t be sure of this. When Bellatrix moved into what seemed to be a sitting area, Hermione followed, making sure that she made no noise and stayed far back. Bellatrix still had her wand out, and the last thing Hermione needed was for Bellatrix to throw a curse at her. Fortunately, Bellatrix simply went over to the window, looking out as though expecting to see Hermione outside.
Now that Hermione had seen that Bellatrix did appear to be alone, she decided it was time to reveal herself. Remaining under the cloak, she uttered softly, “Bellatrix, I’m here.”
As predicted, Bellatrix span around with wand in hand, looking shocked and taken aback. Her eyes flitted back and forth, but as the room was so vast she couldn’t place exactly where it came from. “Reveal yourself!” she snarled, and there was a sudden viciousness in her eyes.
Harry and Ron would have thought her crazy, but Hermione took off the cloak, allowing Bellatrix to see her for the first time. She smiled nervously and kept her hands by her side, her wand limply held there for she did not want Bellatrix to think she was going to curse, jinx or hex her. “Hi,” she said.
Upon seeing that Hermione was alone and did not appear to want to attack her, Bellatrix slowly withdrew her wand. “You’re a fool for coming here,” she spat. “Do you have a death wish?!”
“You won’t kill me,” Hermione said, though her voice sounded uncertain even to her own ears.
Bellatrix raised her eyebrows. “Won’t I? Maybe I was an imbecile before... blinded by whatever spell you had somehow managed to cast over me, Mudblood.”
Hermione shook her head, ignoring the stab of pain in her chest that came with Bellatrix’s insult. It was to be expected, wasn’t it? From the minute that Hermione had decided to return she knew it was highly unlikely that Bellatrix would warmly welcome her, hence why she had entered the Manor in the way she had. Currently, at least she and Bellatrix were on nearly equal footing. Both of them had possession of their wands, and the only factors that counted against Hermione were that Bellatrix knew darker magic than herself, and that she didn’t know her way around the Manor should she need to escape. That was ok though. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.
“I did not cast any spell on you, Bella. I didn’t have access to a wand until after... after what happened.” She couldn’t bring herself to specifically mention the kiss, unsure of what sort of reaction it would invoke in Bellatrix. She would wait until after she had shown her the book to mention the details.
“Either way, you should not be here,” Bellatrix said harshly, though there was a flash of an unidentified emotion in her eyes. “And don’t call me Bella!”
“Fine,” Hermione said dismissively, though she had witnessed the unreadable glint. I’m getting to her.
Bellatrix looked her up and down and then around her, as though searching for something. “Where’s my broom?” she asked, and she took a step towards Hermione. Despite the fact that she was smaller by several inches, the move coupled with the wild look in Bellatrix’s eyes unnerved Hermione.
“Umm,” Hermione said, remembering that she had stolen Bellatrix’s broom months ago. “I sort of... forgot. It’s fine, I mean, it’s not like I’ve used it since.”
Bellatrix stared angrily and swept her hair back from her face, raven curls thrown backwards. “Ugh! Never mind. Just tell me what you want and then leave before I change my mind and hand you over to the Dark Lord!”
“Ok,” Hermione said grudgingly, though she did worry about whether Bellatrix would follow through with her threat or not. “But you need to hear what I have to say, or rather, read what I’m going to show you.”
Bellatrix laughed cruelly. "What could you possibly interest me with?”
Taking out the book from her pocket and enlarging it back to normal size, Hermione found the relevant page, and handed it to Bellatrix. “Read this.”
Unexpectedly, without protest Bellatrix took the book, and sat down on the sofa, though she did have her wand gripped firmly in hand, implying she thought that Hermione may take the chance to attack her. She read silently, not stopping to ask Hermione any questions, but reading the same page over and over, just as Hermione had done when she first stumbled across it. Without asking permission for she was no longer Bellatrix’s prisoner, Hermione took a seat next to the Death Eater, leaving enough space between them for Bellatrix not to call her on her actions. Taking the opportunity whilst she could, she observed the older woman, noting that she had bags under her eyes as though she had not slept properly in a long time, and she had lost weight over the past few months.
Eventually, Bellatrix looked up from the book, and said in a bored voice, “What exactly is the point you are trying to make?”
Hermione swallowed. She had been afraid of having to explain to Bellatrix why she had brought this to her attention, even though she was pretty certain that as an intelligent witch she had figured it out for herself. It was quite likely that Bellatrix was going to scoff at the mere idea of there being an unbreakable bond between them, especially considering the fact that she considered Hermione as a Muggle-born to be less than worthy. Maybe if she had been a half-blood then it wouldn’t have been quite as bad, but as it stood, Hermione was the lowest of the low.
“You can’t deny that there is a connection between us,” Hermione said, choosing her words carefully. “It goes beyond that of a normal attraction... how else would you explain it?”
“Explain what?” Bellatrix said, acting as though she were entirely oblivious to what had happened between them.
Not rising to the bait, Hermione said, “Well if it were just me then I’d think it was a warped wizard version of Stockholm Syndrome, but somehow I don’t think that’s the case. I think you feel something too, because otherwise you would never have allowed me to leave.”
“Escape, you mean,” Bellatrix denied, face expressionless. “And what is Stockholm Syndrome?”
“Put simply it’s when a victim develops feelings of trust and sympathy for their captor,” Hermione explained.
“Muggle mumbo-jumbo then,” Bellatrix said airily.
“Don’t,” Hermione said firmly. “It’s just me and you alone here. We have to be honest, otherwise how are we going to figure this out?”
“There is nothing to figure out,” Bellatrix said sharply. “I don’t know what you’re trying to imply about me, but there is absolutely no way I would ever be so stupid as to fall in love with a Mudblood.”
Hermione sighed. “Being in love isn’t something you can control.”
Apparently, this was going to be even harder than she had imagined it to be. Bellatrix had completely shutdown all her barriers, whether through fear that what Hermione had revealed to her about Semper Amor was true or because she thought this whole situation was ridiculous and was about to curse Hermione, she had no idea. Nevertheless, although her behaviour at present suggested that Hermione had read the situation between them wrong, there were three very important points she had noted in her head. Firstly, Bellatrix had kissed her back. She wouldn’t have done that if she wasn’t attracted on some level to Hermione. Secondly, she had allowed her to escape. Again, what possible motivation could she have for doing that if she didn’t care about Hermione? Thirdly, she had yet to harm Hermione. Had Bellatrix wanted to she could have at least started a duel, but instead she had sat down and read as Hermione has requested that she do. That has to mean something, right?
“We’re not getting into this debate again,” Bellatrix said dismissively. She threw the book back at Hermione. “I can’t believe you’ve wasted my time with this. Get out before I kill you.” She stood, drawing her wand.
Remaining perfectly still, Hermione looked up. “Then kill me, because I have no intention of leaving until we talk about this. Are you honestly telling me that you haven’t been having dreams about me, or that you didn’t experience what I did when we kissed? Or that you’ve been able to go a day without thinking about me? I might be a Mudblood but for some insane reason there’s a bond between us that we cannot ignore!”
Bellatrix stared. “Even if it does exist between us, and I am not accepting that it does, but if that is the case... what do you propose we do? We are on different sides of a war, agree on nothing.”
“So you say,” Hermione said, trying her hardest to remain patient. “But as the book says, ‘Semper Amor does not recognise wars, disagreements or conflicts, and exists alongside such issues between lovers.’ So I don’t see how that matters.”
“You don’t see how it matters? Bellatrix shrieked suddenly, causing Hermione to jump. “If my Lord knew we were talking like this then we would be dead. We can never be what the book says, never. So let’s just ignore it and continue onwards.”
“And never live a happy life?” Hermione posed. She stood tall opposite Bellatrix.
Bellatrix laughed at this, a brutal laugh that reminded Hermione of who she was faced with. “Do you honestly think my life is happy now?”
“You’re not happy?” Hermione questioned, for she hadn’t really thought in great detail about how Bellatrix felt on a day to day basis. She had always assumed that Bellatrix would be so focused on serving Voldemort that she didn’t really spend any time sitting around and dealing with her emotions. Besides, being a Death Eater didn’t allow someone to go through everyday feelings like being happy and sad; it usually only allowed for anger and hatred. She hadn’t ever considered that Bellatrix wouldn’t feel happy; she had only thought that she didn’t care enough either way. Wasn’t it about the fight and the pleasure that brought to her? Curses, screaming and torture. Wonderful.
“My life is... exhilarating!” Bellatrix proclaimed, avoiding the question.
“Are you happy?” Hermione pressed, not wanting to let the subject go and trying to draw more information out of Bellatrix without making it too obvious. She needed to know more about how Bellatrix felt, not general vague answers.
“It isn’t about happiness.” Bellatrix deflected, and Hermione realised that she was as good as admitting that she wasn’t content with her life. “It’s about serving my Master, though I must admit life is far more boring now that I don’t have you to Crucio for entertainment,” she smirked. Then, her facial expression brightened. She raised her wand.
“Don’t,” Hermione warned, realising what the raven haired witch intended to do. She drew her own wand.
Bellatrix ignored her. “Crucio!”
“PROTEGO!” Hermione yelled louder, having been prepared, and raised her wand swiftly to prevent Bellatrix from successfully torturing her. So strong was the Shield Charm that she caused the curse to rebound on Bellatrix, and horrified, she watched as Bellatrix was thrown backwards in the air, a terrified scream wrenching from her throat. From behind the safety of the shield that had been cast between them, Hermione watched as for several seconds, Bellatrix twitched in agony on the floor before her body stilled.
At this point, Hermione no longer worried about protecting herself. She lowered the shield and moved towards Bellatrix, kneeling next to her. The older witch looked pained, and no longer angry. Lost and confused were the two main emotions that Hermione could read in her deep brown orbs. But she’s ok, Hermione thought with relief, despite her anger at the fact Bellatrix had tried to torture her. The logic she possessed had allowed her to realise that it was Bellatrix’s conflicting emotions that had caused her to try and commit such a terrible act, even if she did insinuate that she would have gained pleasure from it. This time, Hermione could see through her.
“If your life isn’t happy, then why are you so intent on living like this?” she asked, sat inches away from Bellatrix on the floor next to her. She couldn’t bring herself to ask how Bellatrix felt, because she knew she would only receive a mouthful of abuse as a reply, and certainly nothing that even came close to an apology. What Hermione wanted to do was yell “Told you so!” but she knew that if she was to have any sort of positive impact on Bellatrix that she couldn’t do that. No, she had to be the bigger person here, no matter how hard it would be.
“I cannot leave him,” Bellatrix whispered.
“You won’t leave him you mean,” Hermione corrected.
She knew at once that Bellatrix was not talking about her husband, but Voldemort. Her main concern appeared to be for him, and whilst she was justified in being worried about him finding out what was going on between them, she couldn’t see why Bellatrix wouldn’t go to the Order for protection. The Fidelius Charm that had been placed over the Order’s Headquarters would most likely ensure Bellatrix’s safety, though of course there was no guarantee that they would permit her presence. Nevertheless, there would be a solution of some sort, Hermione was sure. She envisioned a happy, carefree Bellatrix stood before the Order, aiding them with their fight against Voldemort. Wishful thinking.
“Please tell me you’re joking,” Bellatrix groaned, changing the subject, and standing up.
“Huh?” Hermione said, rising to her feet too, unaware that she had said anything and feeling a little shaky. Seconds later and she remembered; Bellatrix was accomplished at Legilimency and had probably invaded her private thoughts, unknown to her whilst she was lost in thought. “Oh. Well, I don’t think it’s such a bad idea! You might actually get to experience happiness and discover you like it. And don’t delve into my mind like that!” She couldn’t decide whether she wanted to slap, curse or kiss Bellatrix. The latter urge was overwhelming, but for the moment she restrained herself, just as Bellatrix appeared to be doing. Although now that she was directly opposite Bellatrix and so close to her, there was something in her expression that seemed uneasy, and there was a faint blush on her cheeks, visible against pale skin.
“There is no cure,” Bellatrix said, her voice sounding hoarse and changing track again. Acceptance, Hermione thought triumphantly. Finally!
Hermione shook her head. “No. And that book’s latest edition was only published two years ago so unless they’ve made progress since...” her voice trailed off. “Or if one of us kills the other, or dies or... whatever, then the intensity of every aspect will fade.” Would you really kill me, Bellatrix?
Bellatrix closed her eyes, letting Hermione’s declaration pass without comment and swaying on the spot. If she had been anyone but Bellatrix, Hermione would have thought she was going to faint, but she was almost certain that Bellatrix would not fall apart in that way. However, it did encourage her to move forward, so now there were only a couple of inches between them, and she could feel the heat radiating from the other woman’s body. It only served to highlight the fact that nothing was as it seemed, for although on the surface Bellatrix appeared cold and heartless, it was now completely obvious that there was so much more to her, whether she realised it or not. It showed that she was still capable of love, even if the Death Eater in her despised it and considered it to be a weakness.
Unable to stare at Bellatrix for any longer without doing something, Hermione slowly wrapped an arm around her waist, and drew their bodies together. Immediately Bellatrix’s eyes flew open, and shaken out of her reverie, she opened her mouth to protest. Taking the chance whilst she could, Hermione pressed her lips to Bellatrix’s, her emotions surging high the moment that they made contact. All the fears, weakness and worry she had been feeling over the past months no longer seemed to matter, and she was entirely focused on the woman before her, drinking in the intense sensations between them, ecstatic that Bellatrix was reciprocating. It felt much the same as the first kiss, and as they began to rise a few inches from the floor, Hermione wondered if it was because there had been such a long length of time between them that Semper Amor was treating it as the first kiss once more.
Minutes later, Hermione reluctantly pulled backwards, though she still held onto Bella’s waist to keep contact between them. She watched, waiting for the older woman to speak first so that she could gauge her mood and decide how best to continue their encounter. There was no time for more kissing or touching between them to progress, especially under such circumstances, but they would have to decide where to go from here if only so that Hermione could get back to Harry and Ron.
“I see what the book means,” Bellatrix said, and she sounded as vulnerable as Hermione would if she was facing Voldemort with no wand or weapon. “I forgot how powerful the sensation was.”
Hermione gave a shaky laugh. “I know. What are we going to do?”
Bellatrix looked lost, her eyes fixed on Hermione’s, still dilated from the kiss. “I don’t know. Ignore it...?”
“No,” Hermione interrupted. “Do you have any idea what I have been going through?”
“Yes,” Bellatrix said, and at once Hermione realised she was right. Whatever she had been going through herself, Bellatrix had also been experiencing the very same feelings.
Hermione sighed. “I’m sorry.” She buried her head into Bellatrix’s neck, grateful when she didn’t pull away. “I don’t know what we should do, but I know that I don’t want the solution to be never seeing you again. I’ve been so miserable, I can barely focus on...” she stopped. She had almost mentioned the Horcruxes, but that would have been a very bad idea. Knowing that Bellatrix was bound to be intrigued by her stopping midsentence, she quickly began to practice Occlumency, shielding her from discovering what she wasn’t supposed to know. Over the past months she had been trying to clear her mind before bed, which were mainly futile attempts due to her thoughts of Bellatrix, but still likely to have had some effect.
“Killing the Dark Lord?” Bellatrix said sarcastically, taking a guess at Hermione’s words and practically right, although in a vague sense of the truth. “And therein lies the problem.”
“The problem is that you support your Lord, not that I am trying to kill him,” Hermione said patiently, pulling herself back to face Bellatrix again.
“Aren’t they just one and the same problem, depending on which way you look at it?” Bellatrix suggested dryly.
“Whatever,” Hermione said impatiently. “But I can never join your side; I’m Muggle-born and Vol- I mean your Lord, he hates people like me. You could join our cause though and we could be together.”
“It’s not that simple,” Bellatrix said tiredly. And suddenly, she looked completely sane. Normal. “Life is not a fairytale, Hermione.”
Feeling another surge in her chest as Bellatrix used her name as opposed to a derogatory offensive word, Hermione was pushed to continue. “I’m not saying it’ll be easy,” she agreed. “But you can do it.”
Had somebody predicted to her years ago that at this very moment in time Hermione would be trying to persuade Bellatrix Lestrange to fight for the greater good, she would have laughed until her stomach ached. Now that she was in the moment though, it seemed achievable. She needed to make Bellatrix focus on her rather than the Dark Lord, making her offer of a free life much more appealing. Should the greater good win the war against Voldemort then as long as the right people were in charge at Ministry of Magic, things would work out fine as long as Bellatrix had proved her loyalty.
“You don’t know me well enough to make a statement like that,” Bellatrix countered.
Hermione paused, thinking things over in her head. “Well... why don’t you tell me exactly what it is that makes you want to be a Death Eater? What beliefs and values?”
“Purity of blood is important to me, and my Lord is important to me,” Bellatrix told her, without even having to think about what she was saying.
“You do realise that your Lord is a half-blood?” Hermione said cautiously.
Bellatrix laughed. “Even if he is, he’s still purer than you.”
Hermione kept a straight face and didn’t encourage Bellatrix with so much as a smile. This situation wasn’t in the least bit funny, anyhow. “Tell me... considering your feelings for me, do you really look at Muggle-borns in the same way?”
“Yes. You are the only exception,” Bellatrix said, no trace of laughter, her eyes downcast, and her cheeks flaming at such a confession.
At once, Hermione could see that she was ashamed to feel the way she did, and to a certain extent, she felt sorry for the raven haired witch. She had been taught from a young age that to be of pure-blood status made one a superior witch or wizard, and undoing those sort of beliefs that had been with Bellatrix since childhood was extremely difficult to do. If Hermione had more time then she was certain that she could have persuaded Bellatrix, but as it was they were on a tight schedule and couldn’t hang around all day chatting.
It was for Hermione now to decide how best to proceed. If Bellatrix didn’t want to fight against Voldemort, there was nothing she could do without the luxury of time. However, it was also pretty clear to her that Bellatrix didn’t really want her to just walk away without ever coming back; the older witch’s behaviour and appearance showed how much Hermione’s absence had affected her. Really, it would probably be best for Hermione to leave her alone and give her time to think about what she wanted to do, then come back at a later date.
“I think I should give you time to decide what you want,” Hermione said softly. “I have made my feelings clear, and now it’s your turn to consider what you’re prepared to do.”
She turned, ready to leave.
“Wait,” Bellatrix said, and she pulled Hermione back around to face her. “Can’t... can’t this be our secret and we still... fight on opposing sides?”
It was a poor and warped compromise. Hermione knew that it would be Bellatrix who had to make a tougher decision than herself, because she would be the one who was abandoning all she had preached for practically her whole life. Bellatrix was risking her relationship with her sister, Narcissa, and she supposed Lucius and Draco, although Hermione wasn’t sure exactly how much she cared about them. To a certain extent, Hermione could see where Bellatrix was coming from; they would be able to meet, indulge each other, and then once again go their separate ways. Nevertheless, there were too many dangers attached to that for Hermione’s liking; someone like Rodolphus or one of the other Death Eaters could discover them, or worse, Voldemort could penetrate Bellatrix’s mind. Should the latter happen there would be no doubt that he would kill his traitorous Death Eater, and that was something that Hermione wasn’t prepared to risk.
“If we do that and your Lord finds out; you’re dead,” Hermione pointed out. It was amazing how Bellatrix’s view on the matter had changed so suddenly after the kiss. The sensations were evidently strong enough to change her mind, which in itself was a miracle.
“He could just as easily see this memory,” Bellatrix said stubbornly. “So that is an entirely ridiculous argument to make.”
“Actually, it’s not,” Hermione retaliated, “The more we do it, the more chance that we slip up. You have hardly anything to hide at the moment, but as time goes on, it is more likely that something related to me will slip through the barriers you put up around him.”
Bellatrix sighed, squeezing her eyes shut.
“Just... do what I said and think about it?” Hermione said, softer now.
Bellatrix looked at her, dark brown eyes focused only on Hermione. It made her feel slightly intimidated, self-conscious almost. She was giving her a look that made Hermione feel as though she could see right through her into her soul, and as though she was seeing her in an entirely new light. Maybe it was just that Bellatrix wasn’t used to people being kind to her, but whatever the reason, it made Hermione’s heart beat just that little bit faster.
When Bellatrix gave a small nod to indicate that she would do as was asked of her, Hermione knew that it was time for her to leave. Making sure she had all her belongings, she placed one final kiss on Bellatrix’s mouth, hopefully to sustain them both a little longer. Again she felt the rushes of emotion, felt her legs sway and her mind go fuzzy. She was unbelievably temped to stay and spend the next few hours kissing Bellatrix, even if ultimately the majority of that time they just lay quietly together. That was wrong though. She had to fight so she could create a better future for them, and then they would have all the time in the world.
“How will I contact you so we can meet again?” Bellatrix asked suddenly, evidently aware that she had no idea how to find Hermione. “So I can give you my answer?”
Having thought ahead, Hermione drew a fake Galleon from her pocket. “Sorry, I forgot. Use this.” She handed the coin to Bellatrix. “I have another Galleon of my own that is partnered with only this coin. I’ve used a Protean Charm to bind them. You see the writing around the edge that is usually the serial number of the goblin who produced it? Well when you want to meet me, change the serial number to a time and date. I’m assuming that you know how to do that?”
Bellatrix nodded, seemingly dumbstruck by Hermione’s brainwave.
“I’ll know you’ve changed it because the coin will heat up,” Hermione added. “It’s better for me if it’s a daytime meeting, that way I can tell Ron and Harry I am going out to get us food like I did today.” She made a mental note to hurry in the supermarket after leaving; she had already been gone far too long.
“Did you get that idea from the fact that we use our Dark Marks to communicate?” Bellatrix asked, sounding intrigued, but not angry.
“Yes,” Hermione admitted reluctantly. Not wishing to go into any further detail, and certainly not wishing to mention Dumbledore’s Army, she said, “I need to go. Can I Disapparate out of here?”
Bellatrix accepted her answer without further questioning, and she waved her wand. “I’ve taken off the enchantments for you to do so directly from here. Hurry, though.”
She moved away, allowing Hermione to throw the cloak over herself. “Goodbye Bella,” she said, despite being under the Cloak.
Still staring at the place where Hermione had previously been visibly standing, Bellatrix replied despondently, “Goodbye.”
**
(( CLICK HERE for part 14. ))