FIC: Impossible (14/30)
Title: Impossible
Author: perfect_pride
Pairing: 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. :)
(1), (2) , (3a), (3b) , ( 4), ( 5) , (6), (7), ( 8), ( 9), (10), ( 11), (12), (13)
**
I want you to burn
I want you to steal
I want you to bleed
And see how it feels
Nick Lachey, I Do It For You
**14.
August 1997
Upon arriving back at her home and discovering that her Mudblood had disappeared, Bellatrix had felt a combination of fear, regret and relief. She was terrified because when the Dark Lord learned of the disappearance, (and she would have to tell him, because otherwise when he found out from someone else he would only react more horrifically) the consequence would be that she had to face his wrath. Immediately after coming to this realisation, she felt sorry that she had made such an absurd decision, but this was coupled with relief that she would no longer have to battle with the emotions raging inside her on a daily basis. The Mudblood could go back to her life with her pathetic little friends, and Bellatrix would only ever have to deal with her if they stumbled across each other in Battle. And even if that happened, she planned to look the other way. Avoidance was the only solution as far as she could see.
In Bellatrix’s entire life, no one had been able to affect her in the way that her Mudblood had. It had gotten to the point where she had even started to think of her as Granger, and then Hermione. When the latter happened, when she started seeing her as a person and not just a possession, Bellatrix knew that she was in trouble. It didn’t make sense in the slightest, but the harder she tried to maintain her customary behaviour around the girl, the less like herself she seemed to act. What made the situation far more dismal was the fact that she was less interested in her service to her Lord than she usually was, and she was worried that her lack of interest had been noted. Narcissa had been giving her strange looks the past few days, and although she hadn’t said anything, Bellatrix knew that as her sister, she realised there was something wrong.
Allowing her Mudblood to escape from the house earlier this morning had been a stupid idea; Bellatrix was aware of that now. If she hadn’t been in such a rush to get to the Dark Lord then she would have had time to think things through, but as it was she just wanted to make a decision and forget about the girl. Keeping her as a prisoner would have been a ridiculous idea when she was such a distraction, and one look into her eyes and Bellatrix knew that even if she screamed Avada Kedavra, there wouldn’t have been be enough meaning or force behind the words to actually kill her.
Now, faced with the Dark Lord, Bellatrix had to seal off all her thoughts related to Granger and focus on being the devoted servant that she had been for years. She was almost certain that she was accomplished enough at Occlumency to keep the Dark Lord out of her thoughts, as long as he didn’t probe too hard. If she didn’t give him reason to penetrate her mind, she was sure that her skills would keep her safe. It was just a case of being on her guard and making sure that she didn’t say or do anything stupid.
“You wished to see me, Bellatrix?” Voldemort said, clasping his hands in front of him whilst he stared directly into her eyes. There was an intrigued look on his face as he watched Bellatrix stand before him, and she knew he had already sensed she was bringing bad news to his attention.
“Yes, my Lord,” she said, thankfully able to keep her voice level. “I have... unfortunate news.”
Voldemort raised his eyebrows, face strangely impassive. The only sign that the anger was beginning to settle was a quick flash of fire in his eyes. “Oh?”
“It seems that this morning when you requested my presence, the Mudblood, Granger, escaped from the Manor,” Bellatrix paused, allowing Voldemort a few seconds to process the news. “I must apologise, my Lord, I have...”
“Silence!” Voldemort hissed, interrupting. Now that he was aware of the unwanted news, he was ready to show his disapproval with no need for pretence any longer. “I am not interested in apologies. How have you allowed this to happen?”
Bellatrix swallowed nervously, sensing how furious the Dark Lord was. “I do not know how she escaped, my Lord. She has taken her wand and broom, and she was locked in her cell when I left,” she lied, keeping her mind blank in case there was an active attack on her mind.
Voldemort stood, towering over her. “It sounds, Bellatrix, as though she had... outside help. I am assuming there was an Anti-Disapparation Jinx placed within the area of her cell?”
“Yes,” Bellatrix said quietly.
“Well I can only surmise that Potter and friends, perhaps even the Order rescued her,” Voldemort said sharply, and Bellatrix knew that he was now enraged beyond belief. “Do you know how displeased I am, Bellatrix? That Potter has thwarted me once again?”
“Yes,” she said, remorseful as ever. “Please, my Lord...”
Before she could finish her sentence, Voldemort raised her wand and slashed it across her, sending her flying backwards against the far wall. She cried out in agony, shocked. Never before had her Lord attacked her in such a way; he always punished her by giving her tougher missions, and never by causing her physical pain. Why would he do this?! Terrified in a way she had never been before, Bellatrix forced herself to remain still and not reach for her wand, knowing that if she attempted to defend herself it would only make the situation worse.
“You have failed me in a way that I never imagined you would,” Voldemort said, voice echoing off the walls. He raised his wand once more, and silently cast a spell. “You have disappointed me.”
Unaware that it was coming, for she had not heard the incantation Crucio, Bellatrix was suddenly struck with an intense agony boiling from the inside, beyond pain she had never before experienced. It felt as though she would go crazy from the sheer throbbing that was exuberating from every pore of her body, washing over her in ways that she never imagined to be possible. Is this how it always felt? Bellatrix had faced the curse before, but never in such a brutal, unhinged manner that made her terrified of her own reaction, of the screams that she could hear coming from her mouth, no matter how hard she tried to stop them.
Is this how Hermione felt?
With great difficulty she forced her mind back to the present torture, knowing that here in this state she was far more vulnerable than she had ever been before. Occlumency was vital now, even through the waves and swirls of suffering that threatened to drown her, choking her from the inside. It felt like she was bleeding through every hole in her body, like her mind was on fire. In addition, it was almost impossible to stop the flashes of images running through her mind, and should this go on for much longer, she was sure she would end up like the Longbottoms’.
Crazy crazy crazy. Crazier than you already are.
After what seemed like hours, Voldemort withdrew his wand. Calmly, he sat back down, watching Bellatrix writhe on the floor, a smile on his face. “How does it feel, Bellatrix, to experience the same torture that you so easily dish out to Mudbloods and Muggles alike?”
Bellatrix whimpered. The truth was; she could never handle pain. Lucius had borne the brunt of the punishment after the fiasco at the Ministry, and fortunately, Bellatrix has gone unpunished, most likely due to the small part she played considering the Dark Lord’s possession of her body for the majority of the encounter. The Dark Lord had threatened her with pain, but not actually injured her, instead satisfied with her fearful reaction alone. Bellatrix indulged pain in Battle for the sake of her Lord or the odd cut across her wrists when there was no one around to take her rage out on, but once the adrenaline had worn off and she was alone, the frustration began. It was something she had been well aware of ever since a young age, but she chose to ignore it, never thinking about the consequences of batting curses around like a Bludger on the Quidditch pitch. The Dark Lord was aware of her serious lack of tolerance for pain, she was sure of that.
“But of course, you suppose yourself to be above such trivial treatment,” Voldemort continued. “I am well aware that I have never punished you in this way before, but I felt it was time. I should make it clear that the years of devotion you have provided me with means absolutely nothing should you not continue to perform at the high level I expect. Further mistakes will lead to much worse punishment than this.”
“Yes, my Lord,” Bellatrix said, her voice hoarse. “I understand.”
“Let’s hope for your sake that you do,” Voldemort said, smiling terribly at her. “You may leave.”
Scrambling up, Bellatrix all but fled from the room, desperate to get back to her own home where she could collapse in bed alone to recover. Now that the only inhabitants of her house were herself and her elf, there was nothing else to worry about for the time being. More than that, she didn’t even have the energy to think coherently at the moment. She had saved her Mudblood and been punished for it, and hopefully, she would never have to think about that wretched, lovely girl again.
**
Heartened by her visit to Bellatrix, Hermione had felt better in the immediate days following their encounter. She was still dreaming of Bellatrix and missing her, but the fact that they had parted and planned to meet once again evidently made all the difference, because she was not sinking into the similar depressive state she had when there was no guarantee that she would ever see Bellatrix again. It was entirely possible that due to the events occurring that this may still happen, but Hermione had chosen to discount this, putting her faith in Bellatrix. She was accomplished enough at Occlumency to handle Voldemort, and as long as he didn’t suspect anything they should be safe. The main worry for Hermione was not getting herself captured; with Snatchers and Death Eaters out there, the world was a dangerous place.
However, as time had gone on, Hermione had once again started to feel downhearted, mainly due to Bellatrix not contacting her. She incessantly checked the coin, worried that it was not heating up or working properly, but after examining the Galleon time and time again she was forced to admit there was nothing wrong with it. More than likely it was that Bellatrix had experienced a change of heart and had no intention of ever being with Hermione. Ever since the very first time that she realised this, Hermione had literally had a constant physical ache in her chest that made it almost impossible to put Bellatrix completely out of her mind.
She knew that she should stop moping and focus on the search for Horcruxes, but it was easier said than done. Ron kept trying to comfort her, thinking her to be upset about their lack of progress, which would have been perfectly fine were it not for the fact that she knew his feelings ran deeper. If she had never met Bellatrix then maybe she would be perfectly content with Ron, but ever since she had spent hours at a time with the raven haired beauty (albeit whilst being tortured, but according to Semper Amor that was neither here nor there) it was becoming impossible to allow him to touch her. She had always been a tactile person, she loved dancing, hugging, kissing, holding hands... but knowing that Ron wanted to be doing all of that and a lot more was something that she just couldn’t handle.
They had decided (or rather, Hermione had suggested and Ron had gone along with her) to visit Xenophilius Lovegood in order to discover more about the symbol they had seen around his neck at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, but the visit had proved futile, and had only led to their almost being captured by Death Eaters. Frankly, it wasn’t an experience that Hermione was willing to repeat anytime soon, and so for the moment they had been continuing with their own research and not involving other people. Harry seemed frustrated by this, but Ron had accepted it more easily, although he was still hanging around her incessantly. She wished things could just go back to the way they were when they were just three best friends, but becoming adults in the wizarding world apparently brought a lot more to the table than Hermione had ever bargained for, even without considering Voldemort.
Voldemort.
Just the word made her cringe inside. She knew it was silly and that it was only a name, but it was a name associated with fear, death, and loathing. Voldemort hated everything Hermione was and everything she stood for, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, he was trying his utmost best to bring everyone else onto his side. From what they had just heard on the radio show Potterwatch, he was succeeding in attracting an immense amount of followers. The realistic side of Hermione was aware that this was because so many people were afraid, but that still didn’t make it any better. If more witches and wizards were willing to stand up and fight then maybe Voldemort wouldn’t have gotten as strong as he was; ignorant attitudes had aided his bid for domination and power. His name being made taboo had been the final straw in Hermione’s eyes; what else was there left for him to taint and destroy?
It had been so lovely to hear familiar voices on Potterwatch that Hermione was barely thinking about Bellatrix at the moment, but instead was engaged in an argument with Harry. So engrossed was she that she didn’t consider Harry’s anger, or his inability to think straight when he was worked up. It was for this reason that by the time Harry had half said Voldemort’s name; Hermione knew it was too late. There was no defending themselves against Snatchers; not when they were outnumbered, and so quickly, Hermione had done the only thing she could think to do to protect Harry and cast a Stinging Jinx. Hopefully it could at least buy them some more time so that one of them could think of a decent plan to get them out of this situation.
During their interrogation, Hermione barely paid attention. She was aware of being manhandled and having to deal with sick and disgusting comments from who she knew to be Fenrir Greyback, but as a form of self-protection it seemed her mind was forcing her to tune out. As a Gryffindor she was supposed to be brave, but she had been courageous so often lately that she wasn’t sure how much more she could take. It was only when they specifically addressed her to ask who she was (thankfully she had remembered Penelope Clearwater’s name, although whether that would do her any good remained to be seen) that she forced herself to pay more attention, but all she could think about was the fact that as soon as this charade was over, they were going to be tortured and killed. There was no way out this time, she was sure of it. They had never actually been caught before, not without the use of their wands or some sort of advantage.
Unfortunately, once they had spotted her picture in the Prophet; Hermione had known the game was up. Her lies didn’t even sound convincing to her own ears. Immediately in her head she had started planning what they could do once they got to the Ministry; maybe they could try to break free before they actually entered the building and then disappear off into Muggle London? If they chose the right moment it would be possible, wouldn’t it? They may not have their wands or possessions but it was sure as hell worth a try.
You were put in Gryffindor for a reason, she reminded herself. Fight to the death, Hermione!
Except suddenly she learned that they would be taken to Malfoy Manor, and horrified, she barely reacted as they were forced to Side-Along Apparate. It was quite possible that Bellatrix would be at Malfoy Manor, or at the very least that her sister, Narcissa would be present. Hermione wondered what Narcissa knew about herself and Bellatrix, and although she assumed that she would have no idea, if possible she could try and speak to her alone and ask for Bellatrix. It could work out to her advantage if Bellatrix chose to save her one again, but then there was also the possibility that in front of others Bellatrix would react harshly and torment her for the sake of the audience.
It was difficult to know what to do for the best.
Another possibility would be if Draco was present, for despite everything vile he was and stood for, Hermione did not think he would be able to torture or kill them. If she begged, maybe he would not actively help them, but provide a distraction at the very least. She knew that it was clutching at straws, but what else could she do but hope and wish? Herself, Ron and Harry were the only ones who knew of the Horcruxes and were actively searching for them (she assumed, at least) and so if they were killed, who else was there left to defeat Voldemort? People would try, she was sure of that, but He would keep coming back time and time again until all the Horcruxes were destroyed. Part of her now wished that she had disobeyed Harry’s wishes and confided in someone, if only to ensure that after their deaths the search would continue. Nevertheless, she had failed to do this, which brought about one extremely important realisation to her.
If they wanted Voldemort defeated, they had to stay alive. There was no other option.
**
April 1996
Being in Azkaban had changed Bellatrix. For a while after the breakout she was a little more insane than usual, and then, a little more inquisitive. The world had changed a great deal during the many years she had been locked away, and suddenly being free meant that she had to learn all of what had happened during her incarceration, usually from Narcissa as nobody else would indulge her incessant questioning. Lucius was irritated at her lack of knowledge on absolutely everything from the Ministry of Magic to newly discovered Dark objects, and most of the other Death Eaters generally couldn’t string a sentence together. Rodolphus had been entirely uninterested in spending time with her, (Bellatrix supposed she should thank Azkaban for this at the very least) and Draco seemed utterly terrified of her, although she had no idea why considering she had never actually done anything to him. Narcissa would kill her if she even thought about hurting her precious baby boy.
The love Narcissa felt for Draco was something that Bellatrix found herself often wondering about. It was so entirely unconditional; no matter what Draco had wanted since returning home for the Easter holidays, Narcissa had provided. She practically waited on him hand and foot with no complaint, seemingly happy to serve him and do anything and everything he required. Amazed, Bellatrix had watched with avid fascination each and every time she performed a simple task for him without question.
Eventually, Narcissa called her on her relentless, persistent staring one evening whilst they were sat in the lounge. “What do you find so fascinating about my conversations with Draco?”
Bellatrix frowned. Narcissa was entirely clueless. “It’s not your conversations; it’s the way you do everything for him. Does it not bore you?”
Narcissa rolled her eyes. “No, Bellatrix. Draco is my son, and it is my job as his mother to provide for him and to make sure that he is safe, happy and well.”
“But... why? Mother didn’t used to do that for us, did she?” Bellatrix asked, confused. She didn’t understand it at all. Still. What was it about Draco that made Narcissa care so much? He was her son, yes, but that didn’t automatically mean she should have to slave away for him when he was perfectly capable of making his own sodding bed, or getting his own bloody drink.
Narcissa wrinkled her nose. “Our mother wasn’t exactly a fantastic mother. She had some satisfactory moments, I know, but for the most part, she was useless. I on the other hand happen to love Draco very much. He is my whole world, and I would do anything for my son; without him my life wouldn’t be the same.”
Bellatrix remained silent, contemplating this. She was unsure of how to reply, but fortunately was saved from doing so by Narcissa continuing to talk.
“It makes me wonder how... well, how mother and father could ostracise Andromeda,” she confided.
“Ugh,” Bellatrix spat, for this was something she could easily comment on. “They ostracised her because she decided she would rather run away and shag some Mudblood filth. She deserved everything she got and more.”
“The point I am trying to make is that should Draco ever do that, which I am confident he wouldn’t, but should he... I could never abandon him,” Narcissa said quietly.
“You cannot be serious, Cissy?” Bellatrix said, mouth agape. Surely her sister was exaggerating? Mudbloods just weren’t acceptable, to the Blacks, Lestranges, Malfoys, or any other respectable, pure families.
“I cannot control how strongly I love him,” Narcissa said patiently. “He is my only son; I would die for him. You don’t understand how it feels because you don’t love.”
Bellatrix rolled her eyes. “Of course I do. Just because I don’t go all mushy about it, and generally consider love to be nothing useful, I love you, Cissy.”
“Yet you would still abandon me should I betray our Lord,” Narcissa stated. “That isn’t real, honest, love, Bella. The type of love that I feel for Draco and the type of love that Andromeda evidently feels for her husband, that is the true definition of love. You will risk everything for that person because they mean so much to you.”
Defences rising, Bellatrix sneered, “If that’s the way you feel then why didn’t you intervene when Andromeda ran off? I didn’t see you backing her up then!”
“I was young and foolish,” Narcissa said, and Bellatrix could at once see the raw honesty in her sister’s eyes. “I wish that I had been strong enough to tell our parents what I really thought, or at least that I could still speak to Dromeda once in a while. I miss her, Bella, in the same way that I missed you when you were in Azkaban all that time. When you... went away... I was sisterless entirely, and it was a most horrendous feeling. I can’t even begin to explain it to you.”
Bellatrix considered this before she flared up at her sister. She understood where she was coming from in that to lose two sisters and not only one was unbearable, because she had missed Narcissa too. Andromeda had made her own choice, but at the time, yes, it had hurt. Unlike the Dark Lord; Bellatrix was still human. And although she didn’t understand exactly what it was to love someone unconditionally, she could appreciate how deep the love was within her sister, just from looking into her eyes and hearing the way she talked about Andromeda and more importantly, Draco.
Instead of arguing, Bellatrix posed another question to Narcissa. “Do you think that to love is as powerful as being in love?”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Narcissa said, looking bewildered.
“Well you can love anyone, a mother, father, sister, bla bla,” Bellatrix said. “But being in love... wanting someone. Infatuation or the like... is that as powerful a feeling?”
Narcissa considered the question before answering. “I think there are many types of love, and that some are stronger than others. But it depends on the person, I suppose. What do you think?”
“I think that love is generally speaking, a waste of my time. I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation, to be perfectly honest, Cissy.”
Narcissa stared at her, looking deep beyond the surface. She seemed to see right inside of Bellatrix, and that was without Legilimency. It made Bellatrix feel uncomfortable, and she stood to leave the room. She didn’t want to carry on talking like this, it was bringing up memories of Andromeda that she had steadfastly refused to think about since six months after she had fled to go and be with her Muggle-filth. The girl was dead to Bellatrix; the Andromeda that existed now was absolutely nothing to her, no matter what Narcissa said.
“If you ever fall in love, you’ll know exactly what I mean, Bella.” Narcissa said meaningfully, eyes still locked on Bellatrix. “I only hope if you do fall in love it’s with somebody suitable and not a Mudblood, because when you’re torn between what choice to make, it’ll be the worst decision you have ever had to make.”
“I could never love a Mudblood,” Bellatrix spat. “Never!”
**
(( CLICK HERE for part 15. ))
Author: perfect_pride
Pairing: 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. :)
(1), (2) , (3a), (3b) , ( 4), ( 5) , (6), (7), ( 8), ( 9), (10), ( 11), (12), (13)
**
I want you to burn
I want you to steal
I want you to bleed
And see how it feels
Nick Lachey, I Do It For You
**14.
August 1997
Upon arriving back at her home and discovering that her Mudblood had disappeared, Bellatrix had felt a combination of fear, regret and relief. She was terrified because when the Dark Lord learned of the disappearance, (and she would have to tell him, because otherwise when he found out from someone else he would only react more horrifically) the consequence would be that she had to face his wrath. Immediately after coming to this realisation, she felt sorry that she had made such an absurd decision, but this was coupled with relief that she would no longer have to battle with the emotions raging inside her on a daily basis. The Mudblood could go back to her life with her pathetic little friends, and Bellatrix would only ever have to deal with her if they stumbled across each other in Battle. And even if that happened, she planned to look the other way. Avoidance was the only solution as far as she could see.
In Bellatrix’s entire life, no one had been able to affect her in the way that her Mudblood had. It had gotten to the point where she had even started to think of her as Granger, and then Hermione. When the latter happened, when she started seeing her as a person and not just a possession, Bellatrix knew that she was in trouble. It didn’t make sense in the slightest, but the harder she tried to maintain her customary behaviour around the girl, the less like herself she seemed to act. What made the situation far more dismal was the fact that she was less interested in her service to her Lord than she usually was, and she was worried that her lack of interest had been noted. Narcissa had been giving her strange looks the past few days, and although she hadn’t said anything, Bellatrix knew that as her sister, she realised there was something wrong.
Allowing her Mudblood to escape from the house earlier this morning had been a stupid idea; Bellatrix was aware of that now. If she hadn’t been in such a rush to get to the Dark Lord then she would have had time to think things through, but as it was she just wanted to make a decision and forget about the girl. Keeping her as a prisoner would have been a ridiculous idea when she was such a distraction, and one look into her eyes and Bellatrix knew that even if she screamed Avada Kedavra, there wouldn’t have been be enough meaning or force behind the words to actually kill her.
Now, faced with the Dark Lord, Bellatrix had to seal off all her thoughts related to Granger and focus on being the devoted servant that she had been for years. She was almost certain that she was accomplished enough at Occlumency to keep the Dark Lord out of her thoughts, as long as he didn’t probe too hard. If she didn’t give him reason to penetrate her mind, she was sure that her skills would keep her safe. It was just a case of being on her guard and making sure that she didn’t say or do anything stupid.
“You wished to see me, Bellatrix?” Voldemort said, clasping his hands in front of him whilst he stared directly into her eyes. There was an intrigued look on his face as he watched Bellatrix stand before him, and she knew he had already sensed she was bringing bad news to his attention.
“Yes, my Lord,” she said, thankfully able to keep her voice level. “I have... unfortunate news.”
Voldemort raised his eyebrows, face strangely impassive. The only sign that the anger was beginning to settle was a quick flash of fire in his eyes. “Oh?”
“It seems that this morning when you requested my presence, the Mudblood, Granger, escaped from the Manor,” Bellatrix paused, allowing Voldemort a few seconds to process the news. “I must apologise, my Lord, I have...”
“Silence!” Voldemort hissed, interrupting. Now that he was aware of the unwanted news, he was ready to show his disapproval with no need for pretence any longer. “I am not interested in apologies. How have you allowed this to happen?”
Bellatrix swallowed nervously, sensing how furious the Dark Lord was. “I do not know how she escaped, my Lord. She has taken her wand and broom, and she was locked in her cell when I left,” she lied, keeping her mind blank in case there was an active attack on her mind.
Voldemort stood, towering over her. “It sounds, Bellatrix, as though she had... outside help. I am assuming there was an Anti-Disapparation Jinx placed within the area of her cell?”
“Yes,” Bellatrix said quietly.
“Well I can only surmise that Potter and friends, perhaps even the Order rescued her,” Voldemort said sharply, and Bellatrix knew that he was now enraged beyond belief. “Do you know how displeased I am, Bellatrix? That Potter has thwarted me once again?”
“Yes,” she said, remorseful as ever. “Please, my Lord...”
Before she could finish her sentence, Voldemort raised her wand and slashed it across her, sending her flying backwards against the far wall. She cried out in agony, shocked. Never before had her Lord attacked her in such a way; he always punished her by giving her tougher missions, and never by causing her physical pain. Why would he do this?! Terrified in a way she had never been before, Bellatrix forced herself to remain still and not reach for her wand, knowing that if she attempted to defend herself it would only make the situation worse.
“You have failed me in a way that I never imagined you would,” Voldemort said, voice echoing off the walls. He raised his wand once more, and silently cast a spell. “You have disappointed me.”
Unaware that it was coming, for she had not heard the incantation Crucio, Bellatrix was suddenly struck with an intense agony boiling from the inside, beyond pain she had never before experienced. It felt as though she would go crazy from the sheer throbbing that was exuberating from every pore of her body, washing over her in ways that she never imagined to be possible. Is this how it always felt? Bellatrix had faced the curse before, but never in such a brutal, unhinged manner that made her terrified of her own reaction, of the screams that she could hear coming from her mouth, no matter how hard she tried to stop them.
Is this how Hermione felt?
With great difficulty she forced her mind back to the present torture, knowing that here in this state she was far more vulnerable than she had ever been before. Occlumency was vital now, even through the waves and swirls of suffering that threatened to drown her, choking her from the inside. It felt like she was bleeding through every hole in her body, like her mind was on fire. In addition, it was almost impossible to stop the flashes of images running through her mind, and should this go on for much longer, she was sure she would end up like the Longbottoms’.
Crazy crazy crazy. Crazier than you already are.
After what seemed like hours, Voldemort withdrew his wand. Calmly, he sat back down, watching Bellatrix writhe on the floor, a smile on his face. “How does it feel, Bellatrix, to experience the same torture that you so easily dish out to Mudbloods and Muggles alike?”
Bellatrix whimpered. The truth was; she could never handle pain. Lucius had borne the brunt of the punishment after the fiasco at the Ministry, and fortunately, Bellatrix has gone unpunished, most likely due to the small part she played considering the Dark Lord’s possession of her body for the majority of the encounter. The Dark Lord had threatened her with pain, but not actually injured her, instead satisfied with her fearful reaction alone. Bellatrix indulged pain in Battle for the sake of her Lord or the odd cut across her wrists when there was no one around to take her rage out on, but once the adrenaline had worn off and she was alone, the frustration began. It was something she had been well aware of ever since a young age, but she chose to ignore it, never thinking about the consequences of batting curses around like a Bludger on the Quidditch pitch. The Dark Lord was aware of her serious lack of tolerance for pain, she was sure of that.
“But of course, you suppose yourself to be above such trivial treatment,” Voldemort continued. “I am well aware that I have never punished you in this way before, but I felt it was time. I should make it clear that the years of devotion you have provided me with means absolutely nothing should you not continue to perform at the high level I expect. Further mistakes will lead to much worse punishment than this.”
“Yes, my Lord,” Bellatrix said, her voice hoarse. “I understand.”
“Let’s hope for your sake that you do,” Voldemort said, smiling terribly at her. “You may leave.”
Scrambling up, Bellatrix all but fled from the room, desperate to get back to her own home where she could collapse in bed alone to recover. Now that the only inhabitants of her house were herself and her elf, there was nothing else to worry about for the time being. More than that, she didn’t even have the energy to think coherently at the moment. She had saved her Mudblood and been punished for it, and hopefully, she would never have to think about that wretched, lovely girl again.
**
Heartened by her visit to Bellatrix, Hermione had felt better in the immediate days following their encounter. She was still dreaming of Bellatrix and missing her, but the fact that they had parted and planned to meet once again evidently made all the difference, because she was not sinking into the similar depressive state she had when there was no guarantee that she would ever see Bellatrix again. It was entirely possible that due to the events occurring that this may still happen, but Hermione had chosen to discount this, putting her faith in Bellatrix. She was accomplished enough at Occlumency to handle Voldemort, and as long as he didn’t suspect anything they should be safe. The main worry for Hermione was not getting herself captured; with Snatchers and Death Eaters out there, the world was a dangerous place.
However, as time had gone on, Hermione had once again started to feel downhearted, mainly due to Bellatrix not contacting her. She incessantly checked the coin, worried that it was not heating up or working properly, but after examining the Galleon time and time again she was forced to admit there was nothing wrong with it. More than likely it was that Bellatrix had experienced a change of heart and had no intention of ever being with Hermione. Ever since the very first time that she realised this, Hermione had literally had a constant physical ache in her chest that made it almost impossible to put Bellatrix completely out of her mind.
She knew that she should stop moping and focus on the search for Horcruxes, but it was easier said than done. Ron kept trying to comfort her, thinking her to be upset about their lack of progress, which would have been perfectly fine were it not for the fact that she knew his feelings ran deeper. If she had never met Bellatrix then maybe she would be perfectly content with Ron, but ever since she had spent hours at a time with the raven haired beauty (albeit whilst being tortured, but according to Semper Amor that was neither here nor there) it was becoming impossible to allow him to touch her. She had always been a tactile person, she loved dancing, hugging, kissing, holding hands... but knowing that Ron wanted to be doing all of that and a lot more was something that she just couldn’t handle.
They had decided (or rather, Hermione had suggested and Ron had gone along with her) to visit Xenophilius Lovegood in order to discover more about the symbol they had seen around his neck at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, but the visit had proved futile, and had only led to their almost being captured by Death Eaters. Frankly, it wasn’t an experience that Hermione was willing to repeat anytime soon, and so for the moment they had been continuing with their own research and not involving other people. Harry seemed frustrated by this, but Ron had accepted it more easily, although he was still hanging around her incessantly. She wished things could just go back to the way they were when they were just three best friends, but becoming adults in the wizarding world apparently brought a lot more to the table than Hermione had ever bargained for, even without considering Voldemort.
Voldemort.
Just the word made her cringe inside. She knew it was silly and that it was only a name, but it was a name associated with fear, death, and loathing. Voldemort hated everything Hermione was and everything she stood for, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, he was trying his utmost best to bring everyone else onto his side. From what they had just heard on the radio show Potterwatch, he was succeeding in attracting an immense amount of followers. The realistic side of Hermione was aware that this was because so many people were afraid, but that still didn’t make it any better. If more witches and wizards were willing to stand up and fight then maybe Voldemort wouldn’t have gotten as strong as he was; ignorant attitudes had aided his bid for domination and power. His name being made taboo had been the final straw in Hermione’s eyes; what else was there left for him to taint and destroy?
It had been so lovely to hear familiar voices on Potterwatch that Hermione was barely thinking about Bellatrix at the moment, but instead was engaged in an argument with Harry. So engrossed was she that she didn’t consider Harry’s anger, or his inability to think straight when he was worked up. It was for this reason that by the time Harry had half said Voldemort’s name; Hermione knew it was too late. There was no defending themselves against Snatchers; not when they were outnumbered, and so quickly, Hermione had done the only thing she could think to do to protect Harry and cast a Stinging Jinx. Hopefully it could at least buy them some more time so that one of them could think of a decent plan to get them out of this situation.
During their interrogation, Hermione barely paid attention. She was aware of being manhandled and having to deal with sick and disgusting comments from who she knew to be Fenrir Greyback, but as a form of self-protection it seemed her mind was forcing her to tune out. As a Gryffindor she was supposed to be brave, but she had been courageous so often lately that she wasn’t sure how much more she could take. It was only when they specifically addressed her to ask who she was (thankfully she had remembered Penelope Clearwater’s name, although whether that would do her any good remained to be seen) that she forced herself to pay more attention, but all she could think about was the fact that as soon as this charade was over, they were going to be tortured and killed. There was no way out this time, she was sure of it. They had never actually been caught before, not without the use of their wands or some sort of advantage.
Unfortunately, once they had spotted her picture in the Prophet; Hermione had known the game was up. Her lies didn’t even sound convincing to her own ears. Immediately in her head she had started planning what they could do once they got to the Ministry; maybe they could try to break free before they actually entered the building and then disappear off into Muggle London? If they chose the right moment it would be possible, wouldn’t it? They may not have their wands or possessions but it was sure as hell worth a try.
You were put in Gryffindor for a reason, she reminded herself. Fight to the death, Hermione!
Except suddenly she learned that they would be taken to Malfoy Manor, and horrified, she barely reacted as they were forced to Side-Along Apparate. It was quite possible that Bellatrix would be at Malfoy Manor, or at the very least that her sister, Narcissa would be present. Hermione wondered what Narcissa knew about herself and Bellatrix, and although she assumed that she would have no idea, if possible she could try and speak to her alone and ask for Bellatrix. It could work out to her advantage if Bellatrix chose to save her one again, but then there was also the possibility that in front of others Bellatrix would react harshly and torment her for the sake of the audience.
It was difficult to know what to do for the best.
Another possibility would be if Draco was present, for despite everything vile he was and stood for, Hermione did not think he would be able to torture or kill them. If she begged, maybe he would not actively help them, but provide a distraction at the very least. She knew that it was clutching at straws, but what else could she do but hope and wish? Herself, Ron and Harry were the only ones who knew of the Horcruxes and were actively searching for them (she assumed, at least) and so if they were killed, who else was there left to defeat Voldemort? People would try, she was sure of that, but He would keep coming back time and time again until all the Horcruxes were destroyed. Part of her now wished that she had disobeyed Harry’s wishes and confided in someone, if only to ensure that after their deaths the search would continue. Nevertheless, she had failed to do this, which brought about one extremely important realisation to her.
If they wanted Voldemort defeated, they had to stay alive. There was no other option.
**
April 1996
Being in Azkaban had changed Bellatrix. For a while after the breakout she was a little more insane than usual, and then, a little more inquisitive. The world had changed a great deal during the many years she had been locked away, and suddenly being free meant that she had to learn all of what had happened during her incarceration, usually from Narcissa as nobody else would indulge her incessant questioning. Lucius was irritated at her lack of knowledge on absolutely everything from the Ministry of Magic to newly discovered Dark objects, and most of the other Death Eaters generally couldn’t string a sentence together. Rodolphus had been entirely uninterested in spending time with her, (Bellatrix supposed she should thank Azkaban for this at the very least) and Draco seemed utterly terrified of her, although she had no idea why considering she had never actually done anything to him. Narcissa would kill her if she even thought about hurting her precious baby boy.
The love Narcissa felt for Draco was something that Bellatrix found herself often wondering about. It was so entirely unconditional; no matter what Draco had wanted since returning home for the Easter holidays, Narcissa had provided. She practically waited on him hand and foot with no complaint, seemingly happy to serve him and do anything and everything he required. Amazed, Bellatrix had watched with avid fascination each and every time she performed a simple task for him without question.
Eventually, Narcissa called her on her relentless, persistent staring one evening whilst they were sat in the lounge. “What do you find so fascinating about my conversations with Draco?”
Bellatrix frowned. Narcissa was entirely clueless. “It’s not your conversations; it’s the way you do everything for him. Does it not bore you?”
Narcissa rolled her eyes. “No, Bellatrix. Draco is my son, and it is my job as his mother to provide for him and to make sure that he is safe, happy and well.”
“But... why? Mother didn’t used to do that for us, did she?” Bellatrix asked, confused. She didn’t understand it at all. Still. What was it about Draco that made Narcissa care so much? He was her son, yes, but that didn’t automatically mean she should have to slave away for him when he was perfectly capable of making his own sodding bed, or getting his own bloody drink.
Narcissa wrinkled her nose. “Our mother wasn’t exactly a fantastic mother. She had some satisfactory moments, I know, but for the most part, she was useless. I on the other hand happen to love Draco very much. He is my whole world, and I would do anything for my son; without him my life wouldn’t be the same.”
Bellatrix remained silent, contemplating this. She was unsure of how to reply, but fortunately was saved from doing so by Narcissa continuing to talk.
“It makes me wonder how... well, how mother and father could ostracise Andromeda,” she confided.
“Ugh,” Bellatrix spat, for this was something she could easily comment on. “They ostracised her because she decided she would rather run away and shag some Mudblood filth. She deserved everything she got and more.”
“The point I am trying to make is that should Draco ever do that, which I am confident he wouldn’t, but should he... I could never abandon him,” Narcissa said quietly.
“You cannot be serious, Cissy?” Bellatrix said, mouth agape. Surely her sister was exaggerating? Mudbloods just weren’t acceptable, to the Blacks, Lestranges, Malfoys, or any other respectable, pure families.
“I cannot control how strongly I love him,” Narcissa said patiently. “He is my only son; I would die for him. You don’t understand how it feels because you don’t love.”
Bellatrix rolled her eyes. “Of course I do. Just because I don’t go all mushy about it, and generally consider love to be nothing useful, I love you, Cissy.”
“Yet you would still abandon me should I betray our Lord,” Narcissa stated. “That isn’t real, honest, love, Bella. The type of love that I feel for Draco and the type of love that Andromeda evidently feels for her husband, that is the true definition of love. You will risk everything for that person because they mean so much to you.”
Defences rising, Bellatrix sneered, “If that’s the way you feel then why didn’t you intervene when Andromeda ran off? I didn’t see you backing her up then!”
“I was young and foolish,” Narcissa said, and Bellatrix could at once see the raw honesty in her sister’s eyes. “I wish that I had been strong enough to tell our parents what I really thought, or at least that I could still speak to Dromeda once in a while. I miss her, Bella, in the same way that I missed you when you were in Azkaban all that time. When you... went away... I was sisterless entirely, and it was a most horrendous feeling. I can’t even begin to explain it to you.”
Bellatrix considered this before she flared up at her sister. She understood where she was coming from in that to lose two sisters and not only one was unbearable, because she had missed Narcissa too. Andromeda had made her own choice, but at the time, yes, it had hurt. Unlike the Dark Lord; Bellatrix was still human. And although she didn’t understand exactly what it was to love someone unconditionally, she could appreciate how deep the love was within her sister, just from looking into her eyes and hearing the way she talked about Andromeda and more importantly, Draco.
Instead of arguing, Bellatrix posed another question to Narcissa. “Do you think that to love is as powerful as being in love?”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Narcissa said, looking bewildered.
“Well you can love anyone, a mother, father, sister, bla bla,” Bellatrix said. “But being in love... wanting someone. Infatuation or the like... is that as powerful a feeling?”
Narcissa considered the question before answering. “I think there are many types of love, and that some are stronger than others. But it depends on the person, I suppose. What do you think?”
“I think that love is generally speaking, a waste of my time. I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation, to be perfectly honest, Cissy.”
Narcissa stared at her, looking deep beyond the surface. She seemed to see right inside of Bellatrix, and that was without Legilimency. It made Bellatrix feel uncomfortable, and she stood to leave the room. She didn’t want to carry on talking like this, it was bringing up memories of Andromeda that she had steadfastly refused to think about since six months after she had fled to go and be with her Muggle-filth. The girl was dead to Bellatrix; the Andromeda that existed now was absolutely nothing to her, no matter what Narcissa said.
“If you ever fall in love, you’ll know exactly what I mean, Bella.” Narcissa said meaningfully, eyes still locked on Bellatrix. “I only hope if you do fall in love it’s with somebody suitable and not a Mudblood, because when you’re torn between what choice to make, it’ll be the worst decision you have ever had to make.”
“I could never love a Mudblood,” Bellatrix spat. “Never!”
**
(( CLICK HERE for part 15. ))