FIC: Impossible (28/30)
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. :)
There is sexual content in this part.
(1), (2) , (3a), (3b) , ( 4), ( 5) , (6), (7), (8), ( 9), (10), ( 11), (12), (13), (14), (15), (16), (17), (18), (19), (20), (21), (22), (23), (24), (25), (26), ( 27)
**
We don't need to go that far
Let's hold on to where we are
If it's real we'll make it through
‘Cause all I need is you
The Click Five, All I Need Is You**
28.
The day of Bellatrix’s appointment with the Soul Healer arrived sooner than expected. Hermione had been prepared to attend with her, but Bellatrix had steadfastly refused to let her, preferring to go entirely by herself. As much as Hermione wanted to accompany her lover, she hadn’t pressed the issue, not wishing to rile Bellatrix before a session that she imagined would be extremely intense. Nevertheless, Hermione also knew that she wouldn’t be able to cope with waiting in the manor on tenterhooks, and so boldly she had decided to pay a visit to The Burrow to visit Harry, and the rest of the Weasley clan. Even if they ended up refusing her entry, at least she would know for certain where she stood.
Whilst Hermione was there, she also intended to collect Crookshanks. She felt guilty for barely giving him a second thought this year and not having rushed to be reunited with him the moment she was able to, but she’d had so much on her mind. Knowing that he was well cared for had been the main reason why she wasn’t overly concerned about him; despite any potential animosity between herself and the Weasleys, she knew that they would look after her pet regardless. Even if the red haired family were angry with her, there was no way that they would mistreat Crookshanks; they always had been kind, loving people.
She had decided to Disapparate there and then walk to the house in a mark of respect towards the Weasleys; using the Floo Network to enter into their living room directly probably wasn’t the best idea. Besides, a couple of seconds more in which she could debate what she intended to say to them and how to react towards them would be brilliant, because as things currently stood she didn’t have a bloody clue about what to do for the best. Did she defend herself to the hilt, or did she admit that she saw their point of view? Did she allow them to insult Bellatrix (which she assumed they would) or try and persuade them to think differently? All she knew for sure was that she would not lie about anything, for that would achieve nothing. Even if there were painfully honest things she didn’t want to say, she would say them anyway. No lies, Hermione.
Going the back way, for that was the entrance through which she had always entered the property, Hermione noted that the kitchen door was ajar, and she could hear low voices inside. Cautiously, she creaked the door open, peering around it. Immediately, she spied Mrs Weasley stood next to the kitchen counter, with Ron and Ginny sat at the table. Making herself known, she stepped inside.
“Hermione,” Mrs Weasley said finally, looking neither pleased nor displeased. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to see Harry and... well to see how everyone is doing,” Hermione answered truthfully. “I’d like to pick up Crookshanks too.” She looked pointedly at Ron, but he refused to meet her gaze, fixated on the table. Ginny however, met Hermione’s eyes, and although she didn’t exactly look happy, she didn’t look angry either. It was as though she were neutral and reserving judgement for the moment. This was something Hermione could live with; she didn’t expect people to treat their friendship as normal, but civility was always a bonus.
“Harry’s good,” Ginny declared, and when she spoke she sounded much warmer than expected. “Crookshanks too. In fact... I’m just going to go and get them for you, ok?”
“Brilliant,” Hermione said, forcing a smile. As Ginny left the room wordlessly, she focused her attentions back on Ron. “How have you been, Ronald?”
Ron grunted.
“Is that good or bad?” Hermione pushed. He was irritating her already, but she hadn’t made it this far to give up at the first hurdle.
“Fine,” Ron said tonelessly.
Although riled, Hermione did not give him the satisfaction of reacting, especially in front of his mother. It was obvious that Ron was in a sulky mood, but that wasn’t going to deter Hermione. From what she had seen so far of Mrs Weasley, the older witch appeared to be watching the exchange between herself and Ron, waiting to see how their conversation went before she intervened. Or it could just be that she had yet to figure out why Ron was so upset, (unlikely) or else perhaps Harry had spoken to her to convince her that there was more to Hermione’s relationship with Bellatrix than ordinarily met the eye.
“How lovely,” Hermione forced out, with a smile through gritted teeth. “Have you been up to much?”
Ron shook his head, but he still didn’t make eye contact with Hermione.
After a few seconds of silence, Mrs Weasley cleared her throat. “And what about you?” she asked with what sounded like forced politeness, addressing Hermione and facing her head on. More than can be said for her son.
One look at Mrs Weasley’s face, and Hermione realised that she definitely knew of her relationship with Bellatrix, as expected. However, by not mentioning something so important it seemed that she wanted Hermione to reveal this herself before she could comment on it, not wishing to be the one to bring it into the conversation. It was possible that she didn’t want to blame Hermione for something that may have just been rumour, even if she had read about it in the Daily Prophet, or Harry and Ron had already told her themselves. Whatever the reason, Hermione wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction; she would work around it and let Mrs Weasley be the one to bring it up.
“I’ve been relaxing and adjusting to life after the war,” Hermione said, a simple half-truth. “Getting myself together.”
“Yes. Well,” Mrs Weasley said stiffly, and at once, Hermione sensed that she was going to mention Bellatrix after all, unable to help herself. “You should know that I didn’t speak to the Daily Prophet about you; I actually threatened Rita Skeeter with the kitchen knife I was chopping carrots with. Believe me, it wasn’t fear that led me to threaten to shove it where Lumos won’t shine!”
Hermione suddenly wanted to laugh, and had just opened her mouth to suggest that she should have followed through with her threat when Ron rudely interrupted. “I’d have thought you’d want to find your parents,” he said, sounding bitter and judgemental. “Or don’t you care about them anymore either?”
Hermione sighed. It hadn’t taken Ron long to start with the sarcastic comments, and although she understood his anger, that didn’t mean she was going to let such a statement go unanswered. She resented the implication that she didn’t care about her parents, but she needed time to get herself sorted out before finding them. Apart from being scared of what state she may find them in, the last thing she wanted after giving her parents back their memories of her was for them to discover they had a shell of a daughter rather than the bright and vivacious one they had previously known. As it was she was going to have to locate them in Australia which was a difficult task in itself, followed by explaining to them why she had made the decision to modify their memories. If she wanted some times to work things through in her head to grieve and become used to her life now, then who was Ron to judge?
“Of course I care, but it isn’t as simple as just finding them and giving them their memories back,” Hermione said, trying to sound patient. “There’s more to it than that.”
“Like what?” Ron said, look at her with disgust. “Oh wait, I know. Your girlfriend probably doesn’t want you to, right? I mean, your parents are Muggles, aren’t they? She probably won’t be able to stop herself from introducing them to Crucio!”
In truth, Hermione didn’t know what Bellatrix thought of her parents. Although she had briefly made references to them, and Bellatrix had refrained from saying anything derogatory in reply, that didn’t meant she wasn’t thinking of them in an offensive way. Hermione had been hoping that Bellatrix would find it in herself to accept them in the way that Hermione had tried to accept Bellatrix’s family (though Lucius Malfoy was bound to pose a problem in the future) and realise that Hermione needed her mother and father back in her life. However, there was no way she was going to tell Ron this. If there was one thing she was certain of it was that Ron didn’t need yet more ammunition against Bellatrix.
“That’s not fair,” Hermione said angrily. She glanced towards Mrs Weasley for support, but the older witch was unable to meet her eye all of a sudden. It made sense now that Hermione really thought about it; Mrs Weasley had killed Rodolphus whilst under the impression that he was Bellatrix, and so it was obvious that she held more than enough hate towards the raven haired witch. Who was to say that even if Ginny’s life hadn’t been at risk that Mrs Weasley wouldn’t have attacked the imposter Bellatrix anyway? “I thought you’d at least try and understand.”
“I tried!” Ron exclaimed. “I can’t though. It’s disgusting. If it has to be a woman you’re with, why that hideous thing?”
“You know nothing of my life now, Ronald,” she said sharply, defending Bellatrix to the hilt. “Because you haven’t bothered to get in touch. I want to be your friend; I love you. I miss you. But you have to accept that things are different now.”
“No I don’t,” Ron said stubbornly, ignoring Hermione’s declaration entirely. “I don’t care if I never see you again. Go to hell, Hermione.”
Hermione nodded. “Fine. I see there’s absolutely no reasoning with you...” she turned to Mrs Weasley. “Does the same go for you and Mr Weasley?”
“That is something that I just cannot answer at present, Hermione,” Mrs Weasley said wearily. “Look at it from our point of view. Bellatrix has committed some truly atrocious acts; I dread to think about the things she did whilst she served You-Know-Who as a Death Eater. Have you forgotten that she burned down our home too? Not to mention that she abducted and tortured you... how on earth have you forgiven her for doing something so awful?”
“I have forgiven her for all that she has done wrong,” Hermione said simple.
“Some say that some acts are so abhorrent that they’re unforgiveable,” Mrs Weasley responded. “Not everyone is able to do what you have done.”
“I accept that,” Hermione said carefully. “But the end of the war means that everyone alive now should be granted a second chance if they are willing to change. And no matter what her motivations were, Bellatrix did a lot of good in the end.”
“Like what?” Ron interjected incredulously, banging his hand on the table in front of him. His cheeks flamed with rage, making his freckles stand out even more.
“She saved Neville’s life for one,” Hermione retorted. “Had she not done that straight after he had killed Voldemort’s snake, Nagini, then he would be dead now.”
Ron stared at her with disgust, but otherwise didn’t comment on this admission. In fairness to Mrs Weasley, she did have the decency to look surprised as opposed to disbelieving.
“She also defended Kingsley,” Hermione added for good measure.
Again there was no response from Ron, although fortunately at that moment, Harry entered the room with both Ginny and Crookshanks trailing behind him. “Hermione,” Harry said, the expression on his face implying that he had sensed the animosity in the room. He stepped towards Hermione in spite of the tension and pulled her into a hug. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you,” Hermione said, attempting to sound upbeat and failing miserably. In an attempt to cover it up, she bent down to stroke Crookshanks’ head tenderly, and hugged him to her chest, where he rested contently now that he was back with his magical familiar.
“I think I’ll leave you all to it,” Mrs Weasley announced, making her way towards the door. “Goodbye, Hermione.”
“Goodbye,” Hermione said, in the same formal, polite tone that Mrs Weasley had used when speaking her parting words.
“I’m coming too mum,” Ron said immediately, and without bothering to so much as even look Hermione’s way again, he strode out of the kitchen.
Now, faced with only Ginny and Harry, Hermione asked to neither of them in particular, “So am I right in assuming everyone else hates me?”
“No,” Ginny answered softly. “Ron’s just upset and I suppose mum and dad don’t really know what to make of things. George is really depressed about Fred, and the others... well they haven’t given their opinion as they’ve had other things to worry about. But I think that everyone thought that you and Ron would eventually... you know...” her voice trailed off, but the implication was clear. Get married. Have a baby, and at least another before living a long, happy life together.
“I think we all did,” Hermione admitted, her cheeks going red. “But I can’t help the way I feel, Ginny. I love Bellatrix, and nothing is ever going to change that no matter how much easier my life would be if I didn’t.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I know that more than anyone. Last year when Harry, you and Ron disappeared, everyone told me I had to move on, that I was clinging onto false hope of ever being with Harry again, but it didn’t matter,” Ginny said sincerely, sharing a contented look with Harry. “You can’t change your feelings, no matter how much you want to. So... I understand that much. What I don’t understand is how Bellatrix can have changed so suddenly, but I trust you and I choose to believe you when you say that she has.”
“Me too,” Harry said finally. “Don’t get me wrong; I still hate her, but she would have no reason to lie about Sirius. The others believe that too, you know. Their main problem is that they can’t comprehend why you’d want to be with someone who has served Voldemort all this time.”
“Semper Amor,” Hermione said tiredly. “Isn’t that explanation enough.”
“We know that,” Harry said, answering for Ginny also. “But from an outsider’s perspective, I suppose it’s hard to imagine how that sort of love can be so strong.”
“Well when they wonder again, tell them this,” Hermione instructed. “It’s love of great magnitude; all consuming, all powerful, and all controlling. When we were apart I felt as though I couldn’t survive without her and that I would do anything to be with her, even if it meant giving up everyone I’ve ever cared about. I would be happier with her in the middle of the dessert with no food or money than I would to live in luxury with the most beautiful and kind man or woman in the world. That’s how much I want and need her. She is my everything.”
Harry nodded. “Really Hermione, we understand, and we can see how earnest you are. We’ll tell them but whilst they will probably appreciate that you feel that way, they won’t be able to accept that Bellatrix is capable of feeling a small amount of love, let alone love the way you have just described it. They will be unlikely to believe she is no longer a threat. That’s something I find hard to believe too, if I’m honest.”
This was something that Hermione could appreciate. Harry had accepted the truth about Bellatrix’s actions, but he was also smart enough to be entirely aware that she had still done a lot of terrible things, even if she hadn’t been the one to take Sirius away from him. Harry hated her for everything that she stood for because at the end of the day, his parents were still dead. He had grown up without a mother or father because of the cause that Bellatrix had stood for. The mere fact that Harry was mature enough to see past that and allow the love he felt for Hermione overrule his anger and upset was testament to all that he had learned from Dumbledore. It was clear to Hermione that this time a couple of years ago, he might not have been so understanding.
Hermione nodded. “I understand that. I don’t expect you to ever be friends with Bellatrix, or even to like her. But I still want you in my life. Ron too, if he ever permits it.”
“We still want you in our lives too,” Ginny said, and she pulled Hermione into a hug. “We’ll keep working on Ron, promise. But for now, don’t worry, ok? You still have us. And if you need anything, then we’re here.”
“Thank you,” Hermione said, smiling more easily now. Whilst things weren’t ok, it felt as though they were going to get better eventually. She still had friends, and as long as she had them, life would slowly improve. Even if when she went back to Hogwarts and people were foul to her, knowing that she had several people other than Bellatrix to turn to if she needed them would make everything more bearable. “I should probably go; I don’t want to overstay my welcome. But... well maybe we could meet up soon? Go shopping or something in Diagon Alley.”
“Sounds good,” Harry nodded. “Or a cinema trip. I’m introducing Ginny to the wonders of the Muggle world. I never got a chance to experience much of it as a child, and I’d like to now that there’s not an evil wizard trying to murder me.”
Hermione smiled. “That’d be lovely. And... thanks Ginny, for looking after Crookshanks. Thank your parents too for me.”
“He’s missed you,” Ginny said, staring at Crookshanks fondly. “And it was no trouble, honestly. Do you want his things?”
“Can you just send them on? I’ve bought him everything that he needs already and I have them back... well back where I’m staying,” she said uncomfortably, not knowing how to refer to Black Manor. Bellatrix’s home? My home? Maybe.
Ginny agreed to do so, ignoring Hermione’s discomfort which she was grateful for. The three hugged once more before Hermione gave an awkward sort of wave, and left through the back door, clutching Crookshanks in her arms. Although her visit had been brief and had started off uneasily, it had improved greatly by the end. The simple fact of knowing that she had Ginny onside in addition to Harry had brightened her spirits, because she had been envisioning the worst of scenarios where absolutely everyone hated her and wouldn’t even so much as look at her. It was a shame that Ron hadn’t been able to get past the hatred, but Hermione chose to have faith that he would one day change. At the moment things were still raw; Fred’s death, not to mention Lupin and Tonks’ deaths too would have hit the Weasley family especially hard. Maybe in time everyone would learn to be more accepting and to practice forgiveness, even if they were unable to forget.
**
After Apparating back to Black Manor, Hermione sat in the library with Crookshanks at her side, reading up on Memory Charms to take her mind off Ron, if only for a few hours. Besides, it was useful information for her to learn; she wanted to make sure she knew enough about the different sorts of charms to adequately reverse the spell she had placed her parents under. After doing this, she chose to work on her Occlumency skills as best she could with the help of a book and only herself. The most effective way for her to become fully competent at Occlumency would be to practice with an accomplished Legilimens. Unfortunately, Bellatrix was the only Legilimens that she knew, and Hermione wasn’t ready for Bellatrix to actively attempt to break into her mind, not willing for Bellatrix to see certain private memories, and especially because for the main part she wanted to use Occlumency to keep Bellatrix out of her head. The raven haired witch was so skilled that she managed to probe Hermione’s mind without her being fully aware of what was happening sometimes, and in the future, that was something Hermione would like to prevent. Eventually, when she was stronger and there was less for Bellatrix to know about that Hermione hadn’t already told her (she hoped that one day she could be open and honest with Bellatrix about everything) then she would be willing to ask her for help.
When Bellatrix finally arrived home, she was in a bad mood. Stomping with her heavy black leather boots out of fireplace and into the library, she threw herself down on the armchair next to Hermione. Sensing that Bellatrix was probably going to require her full attention, Hermione put down the book she was reading, The Discipline of Occlumency, and turned her body around so that she was now facing Bellatrix.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, genuinely concerned.
“That was dreadful,” Bellatrix complained. “That despicable woman, Healer Lawrence or whatever her bloody name was, didn’t even want to talk to me about my service to the Dark Lord; she wanted to talk to me about my childhood. Does that even make sense? Not to mention her insistence that I take a stupid bloody potion called Sedonus that will apparently help to stabilise my moods.”
Privately, Hermione thought everything that Bellatrix said sounded completely fine, but she didn’t want to say it in such a way as to offend Bellatrix or start an argument. Moving from her own armchair, she sat herself on Bellatrix’s lap, wrapping her arms around her lover’s neck. “Bella, even if you don’t want to do this, you have to. It’s a small price to pay for freedom, so it’s best just to cooperate.”
“I know,” Bellatrix said, sounding exasperated. She had yet to push Hermione away though, which she chose to take as a good sign. “It just seems so pointless! She was utterly fascinated by the most preposterous of things.”
“Like what?” Hermione asked curiously.
Bellatrix shrugged. “Oh I don’t know... ridiculous memories.”
“Such as?”
“Oh you know, the usual childhood memories,” Bellatrix said, shrugging her shoulders. “She was utterly enthralled by the fact my parents used physical punishments to chastise me, as though it’s strange for a father to use Wingardium Leviosa to levitate his child out of the window and then drop them!”
“Uhh, Bellatrix?” Hermione said, slightly disturbed. “That... that is strange. Actually it’s more than strange... it’s horrible.” It sounded as though Bellatrix’s father had abused her, whether she admitted it or not. Now that Hermione thought about it, Bellatrix’s angry nature and violent behaviour were not the signs of someone who had been brought up in a stable, loving home, with her sisters also testament to that. Narcissa was utterly cold and shut off, and even Andromeda seemed to have had a haunted look in her eye. For Bellatrix, it seemed that she had chosen to deal with whatever demons were in her past by inflicting her fury on others, whether she realised it or not.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Bellatrix huffed.
“Most parents don’t do that to their children,” Hermione said forcing herself to sound rational. “They stop them from reading their favourite books or from going out with their friends or punish them in a way that doesn’t involve physically hurting them.”
“Well how would you know? Your parents are only Muggles,” Bellatrix retorted. “Wizarding families do things differently.”
“Are you honestly telling me that you think it’s normal to levitate a child out of a window and then to drop them? That could kill them if they fall from somewhere high enough!” Hermione exclaimed. “I can guarantee that no normal family do that to their children, wizarding or otherwise.”
“Obviously they’re not dropped from more than about five or six feet in the air,” Bellatrix said matter-of-factly.
“It’s still sick,” Hermione proclaimed. “It’s called child abuse.”
“Anyway, what does it matter?” Bellatrix said indifferently. “All I know is that it’s none of her business.”
“The Soul-Healer is just trying to help, Bella,” Hermione said gently. Not wanting Bellatrix to lash out, she placed a soft kiss against her cheek, and buried her head into the older witch’s neck. “Don’t let it get to you. Please, don’t be mad.”
“I’m not angry with you,” Bellatrix said sharply. “I just don’t understand the necessity of this. I betrayed the Dark Lord whilst he was still in power. I have never hidden my feelings, or pretended to be innocent; I have confessed all that I am responsible for. Why should I be made to talk about past events that I wish to forget about?”
Hermione pulled back, staring at Bellatrix in awe. “You know, I wish you’d talk like this to me more often. It makes me feel like you’re trusting me, and that in turn I can be more open with you.”
It really, truly did. Bellatrix never lied to her, but she didn’t tell the truth either. She would very rarely reveal anything about her own life or feelings that meant something to her, and so to imply that she had suffered some sort of abuse to Hermione and her Soul Healer was a major thing in Hermione’s eyes. Now that she had disclosed something so personal to Hermione, she didn’t want to completely discount the confession, but neither did Hermione want to push too hard and make Bellatrix close up once more. It was difficult to decide what to do for the best.
“I just don’t see why it is necessary to discuss the past,” Bellatrix stated, and now she sounded monotone. It was the sort of statement said in such a cold way that for a second, Hermione felt as though she were in a room with Narcissa, not Bellatrix.
“Sometimes the past has to be talked about,” Hermione said, taking hold of one of Bellatrix’s hands, and feeling elated when she didn’t pull away. “I’m not saying it has to be something you talk about every single day for the rest of your life, but you should be able to talk about it sometimes, even if it’s painful.”
“It’s not painful,” Bellatrix denied, and she said it so vehemently, Hermione wasn’t sure whether or not she was telling the truth anymore. People could be more forceful with their words whether they were telling the truth or when they were lying, and Hermione wasn’t sure which of these applied to Bellatrix’s latest statement. “I wish to talk about something else now, if you don’t mind.”
“Ok,” Hermione said, choosing not to press the subject for the moment. Bellatrix had probably had enough for today and needed to unwind. “What do you want to talk about?”
Instead of replying, Bellatrix gave a yelp. “What is that?” she looked down horrified at Crookshanks who she had just spotted resting in front of Hermione on the floor.
“Crookshanks. Remember I told you about him?” Hermione said calmly. “I picked him up from the Weasleys today. Now that the war is over and I’m safe, it’s ok for him to be with me again. I have everything needed to look after him; I bought it all the other day in Diagon Alley, so I can show you how to care for him whilst I’m gone.”
“Speak to Lemmy; she can do that,” Bellatrix said dismissively, not sounding particularly enthusiastic. “Wait, what? You went to the Weasleys?”
Hermione nodded. “Yes.” Underneath her, Bellatrix stiffened. Smart enough to recognise the signs of Bellatrix’s disapproval, Hermione quickly continued to speak. “You don’t need to worry because Ron didn’t even want to come near me. He hates me.”
“What happened?” Bellatrix demanded, not looking at all mollified. Once again, her pretty features had contorted horribly; a sign that she was becoming extremely irate.
In an attempt to comfort Bellatrix and prevent an outburst, Hermione slowly stroked her finger along Bellatrix’s face and across her lips. “I spoke with Harry and Ginny, and even though they aren’t exactly your biggest fans, they’re trying to get used to the idea. Apparently Mr and Mrs Weasley are torn and unsure of what to think. I wasn’t really there long enough to learn more than that,” she said calmly.
Surprisingly, Bellatrix smirked. “That ginger cow is probably devastated it wasn’t me she murdered.”
“Don’t talk about her like that,” Hermione said, defending Mrs Weasley. For all her faults she had always been good to Hermione, and had never failed to treat her well. Even now she hadn’t done anything particularly nasty to her; if anything, she was more hurtful years previously during the Triwizard Tournament, when she had read the Rita Skeeter article about Hermione supposedly toying with Harry and Krum’s affections at the same time. “She’s a good person.”
Bellatrix stared at Hermione, nostrils flaring. “Do you fancy her?”
Hermione gawped back at Bellatrix, mouth open. “What...? I... no! Bloody hell, Bellatrix, what is wrong with you? No! She’s like a mother to me.”
“Are you sure?” Bellatrix questioned her once again.
“Am I...? Yes! Yes, I am! Never ask me such a ridiculous question again!” Hermione exclaimed, unable to believe she was actually having such a conversation.
Hermione came to the conclusion that Bellatrix really was the most jealous person she had ever met. In hindsight it should have been fairly obvious a long time ago; when Rodolphus tried to use Hermione for his own pleasure it was probably the first sign of Bellatrix’s possessiveness. Hermione couldn’t believe that someone as headstrong and confident as Bellatrix would be worried about being betrayed, especially considering Semper Amor, but there was nothing she could do except try to placate her fears. Bellatrix was evidently going to have some problems adapting to being in a normal relationship after the weird one that she had had with Rodolphus when he’d still been alive.
Bellatrix’s dark orbs focused on her own. “How do I know I can trust you?”
Hermione sighed, and despite her annoyance at Bellatrix, she kissed her tenderly on the lips. “I love you, idiot. The sooner you realise that the better.”
Bellatrix didn’t reply; instead she just pulled Hermione towards her once again. Sensing that it was a private moment between Hermione and Bellatrix, Crookshanks slipped out of the room quietly, Hermione supposing that he was leaving to explore the rest of the house.
Focusing on Bellatrix, Hermione allowed her to take the lead. She submitted herself to whatever Bellatrix chose to do, which was apparently to remove her shirt and bra so that Hermione was sat on her lap topless. Bellatrix stared at her chest with pure, unadulterated lust in her eyes, and unconsciously licked her lips. Enjoying the response she was drawing from Bellatrix, Hermione smiled, feeling her cheeks inflame from the attention that she was being paid.
Seconds later and Bellatrix fumbled with Hermione’s jeans, trying her best to tug at the button and pull them down. She struggled, for although they were far from tight considering Hermione’s weight loss, it was evident that Bellatrix wasn’t used to such material. She wrinkled her nose with the effort, and it was plain to see that she was getting frustrated by the seemingly simple task that she could not complete.
“Let me do it,” Hermione said, extremely amused.
Obliging, Bellatrix let go, but not before she flashed Hermione with a glare. “What are these stupid things you insist on wearing anyway?”
Now, Hermione couldn’t help giggling. “They’re called jeans.”
“Well I don’t like them,” Bellatrix stated, and the second Hermione had undone them, she tugged them down.
“Too bad,” Hermione said, and before Bellatrix could get herself worked up, she leaned in and kissed her. Throwing her jeans to the floor, she straddled Bellatrix with only her underwear on, her thighs wrapped around Bellatrix, and her upper body pressed against her lover. All that remained between them now was the clothing that Bellatrix wore; her black leather vest, thinly veiled black top and bra prevented Hermione from seeing her breasts too. Without pause, Hermione wasted no time in pulling each layer from Bellatrix, casting everything to the side and staring down at her lover’s newly revealed flesh.
Desperate for Bellatrix to remove the rest of her clothing, Hermione undid each clasp rapidly, and roughly dragged down her lengthy black skirt. Next, she pulled off Bellatrix’s laced black bra, and yanked down her knickers. Although Bellatrix didn’t object to such treatment, she evidently wanted to outdo Hermione as she pulled on her panties with such force that she ripped them in the process.
“Oops,” Bellatrix said, smirking.
With a growl, Hermione pulled Bellatrix backwards, and as she fell towards the floor, she flipped their positions so that she landed on top of her lover. She used as much strength as she could muster to pin back Bellatrix’s arms against the floor, before she connected their mouths in a searing hot kiss. Although she was in charge, she suspected that if the raven haired witch really had a problem with it then she would easily be able to control Hermione. Apparently, she was letting her take the role of the dominant one for once. Savouring it whilst it lasted, Hermione lightly nipped at Bellatrix’s neck, breasts, even belly button, before she lowered her head towards Bellatrix’s core. After several teasing strokes, she jammed her tongue inside of Bellatrix, drawing out wild moans from the older woman that highlighted exactly how much pleasure was pulsing through her. Replacing her tongue with three fingers, Hermione alternated between sucking and nipping at Bellatrix’s throbbing clit, causing her to come within minutes, screaming out in ecstasy as she did so.
Now it was Hermione’s return to smirk. She raised her head, arching an eyebrow at Bellatrix, and she knew from the expression on her lover’s face that she was very pissed off that Hermione had made her orgasm so quickly. It was only a matter of seconds and far too soon for Hermione to react, that she found herself underneath Bellatrix, with the older woman on top of her. Blinking, she wondered how exactly she had managed to reverse their positions so rapidly, before she realised that Bellatrix was much more capable of holding her down than the other way around, especially when she was annoyed.
Bellatrix didn’t even bother to lower her head; she thrust two fingers inside of Hermione with no warm-up, already aware of how wet she was from what had transpired between them so far. Hermione had always been the sort of girl to anticipate things, enjoying the build-up, and sex with Bellatrix was no exception. She knew it wouldn’t be long before her own release; Bellatrix held down her upper body, but not her lower half. Apparently Bellatrix was willing enough to allow Hermione a little control, which enabled her to bend her knees and spread her legs as wide as possible, serving to increase her pleasure further. In such a position it was easy for Bellatrix to powerfully flick Hermione’s clit with her thumb, drawing moans and screams, until with one last thrust inside of her, Hermione’s body rose and fell in a shattering climax. Oh yes! Yes, yes, Bella!
If Hermione had expectations that it would now be over, she was sorely mistaken. She barely had time to catch her breath when she realised that Bellatrix had shoved her head in between her legs, and was now lapping at her enthusiastically, her mouth pressed down against her centre, causing tiny jolts to run through Hermione’s body. Gasping, she raised her head to look down at her lover, who had now focused all of her attention’s solely on Hermione’s core. Moving faster, she began to speed up as Hermione struggled to focus her eyes on the soft wet lips that sucked at her desperately, until finally, she slammed back down on the floor, calling out Bellatrix’s name as she came for the second time.
Grinning, Bellatrix raised her head, lewdly wiping her mouth, and sucking each of her fingers in turn. “Never try to get one over on me, sweetie,” she purred.
Hermione only whimpered at the sight before her, more turned on than ever. She watched as Bellatrix lay back on the floor next to her, and forcing what little energy she still had in her body to the surface, she crawled across onto her. Out of breath, she buried her head into Bellatrix’s neck, ignoring the ninety-three tattoo that one day she would persuade Bellatrix to get rid of. Such beautiful skin shouldn’t be tainted with a crude prisoner tattoo, especially when that was no longer Bellatrix’s identity.
Words couldn’t truly describe everything that Hermione felt now, but there was an intense, burning desire within, coupled with lust, love and several other feelings all for the raven-haired beauty who lay beneath her. Breathing hard, she moved raven curls backwards to reveal porcelain white skin, and shakily placed a gentle kiss on Bellatrix’s neck. She enjoyed showing Bellatrix affection, knowing it wasn’t something that hadn’t been handed out to her enough over the years. It angered Hermione, because despite the fact she had done terrible things, it didn’t mean she deserved that kind of treatment. Especially not as a child, Hermione considered, remembering Bellatrix’s blasé attitude about her parents punishing her. If anything, the lack of warmth and tenderness had probably contributed to Bellatrix’s attitude and behaviour.
“What was that for?” Bellatrix asked curiously.
“Just felt like it,” Hermione said. In her head she was thinking get one over on me all you like because I bloody love you, but she wouldn’t be so stupid as to confess this to Bellatrix, knowing that even if she submitted to her, she wasn’t willing to openly admit it yet. Bellatrix probably had an inkling of what she was thinking about, but she wouldn’t call her on it; deep down she seemed to know she was lucky enough to have Hermione, and for all her faults, she had not once forced her to do anything she hadn’t wanted to do when it came to issues of intimacy.
“Now you’re the idiot,” Bellatrix said, but her voice was filled with a teasing fondness that made it clear Bellatrix liked the fact that Hermione was happy to show how much she cared for her in a physical way.
If there was any doubt at all as to the meaning behind Bellatrix’s words, it was all erased when she grasped her wand from the table next to where they lay, and summoned a blanket and pillows, which she used to create a makeshift bed for them, there on the library floor. Hermione briefly wondered what Lemmy would think if she happened upon them like this, before she realised that it didn’t matter. Instead, she allowed Bellatrix to gently manoeuvre her so that she was fully cushioned, and before Hermione fell asleep, she was aware of a tender kiss being placed upon her forehead, and Bellatrix’s thumb softly stroking her forearm, sending shivers of pleasure down through her body once more.
Laying in Bellatrix’s arms, for the first time, Hermione felt completely safe and content. Thank you, Bellatrix.
**
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. :)
There is sexual content in this part.
(1), (2) , (3a), (3b) , ( 4), ( 5) , (6), (7), (8), ( 9), (10), ( 11), (12), (13), (14), (15), (16), (17), (18), (19), (20), (21), (22), (23), (24), (25), (26), ( 27)
**
We don't need to go that far
Let's hold on to where we are
If it's real we'll make it through
‘Cause all I need is you
The Click Five, All I Need Is You**
28.
The day of Bellatrix’s appointment with the Soul Healer arrived sooner than expected. Hermione had been prepared to attend with her, but Bellatrix had steadfastly refused to let her, preferring to go entirely by herself. As much as Hermione wanted to accompany her lover, she hadn’t pressed the issue, not wishing to rile Bellatrix before a session that she imagined would be extremely intense. Nevertheless, Hermione also knew that she wouldn’t be able to cope with waiting in the manor on tenterhooks, and so boldly she had decided to pay a visit to The Burrow to visit Harry, and the rest of the Weasley clan. Even if they ended up refusing her entry, at least she would know for certain where she stood.
Whilst Hermione was there, she also intended to collect Crookshanks. She felt guilty for barely giving him a second thought this year and not having rushed to be reunited with him the moment she was able to, but she’d had so much on her mind. Knowing that he was well cared for had been the main reason why she wasn’t overly concerned about him; despite any potential animosity between herself and the Weasleys, she knew that they would look after her pet regardless. Even if the red haired family were angry with her, there was no way that they would mistreat Crookshanks; they always had been kind, loving people.
She had decided to Disapparate there and then walk to the house in a mark of respect towards the Weasleys; using the Floo Network to enter into their living room directly probably wasn’t the best idea. Besides, a couple of seconds more in which she could debate what she intended to say to them and how to react towards them would be brilliant, because as things currently stood she didn’t have a bloody clue about what to do for the best. Did she defend herself to the hilt, or did she admit that she saw their point of view? Did she allow them to insult Bellatrix (which she assumed they would) or try and persuade them to think differently? All she knew for sure was that she would not lie about anything, for that would achieve nothing. Even if there were painfully honest things she didn’t want to say, she would say them anyway. No lies, Hermione.
Going the back way, for that was the entrance through which she had always entered the property, Hermione noted that the kitchen door was ajar, and she could hear low voices inside. Cautiously, she creaked the door open, peering around it. Immediately, she spied Mrs Weasley stood next to the kitchen counter, with Ron and Ginny sat at the table. Making herself known, she stepped inside.
“Hermione,” Mrs Weasley said finally, looking neither pleased nor displeased. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to see Harry and... well to see how everyone is doing,” Hermione answered truthfully. “I’d like to pick up Crookshanks too.” She looked pointedly at Ron, but he refused to meet her gaze, fixated on the table. Ginny however, met Hermione’s eyes, and although she didn’t exactly look happy, she didn’t look angry either. It was as though she were neutral and reserving judgement for the moment. This was something Hermione could live with; she didn’t expect people to treat their friendship as normal, but civility was always a bonus.
“Harry’s good,” Ginny declared, and when she spoke she sounded much warmer than expected. “Crookshanks too. In fact... I’m just going to go and get them for you, ok?”
“Brilliant,” Hermione said, forcing a smile. As Ginny left the room wordlessly, she focused her attentions back on Ron. “How have you been, Ronald?”
Ron grunted.
“Is that good or bad?” Hermione pushed. He was irritating her already, but she hadn’t made it this far to give up at the first hurdle.
“Fine,” Ron said tonelessly.
Although riled, Hermione did not give him the satisfaction of reacting, especially in front of his mother. It was obvious that Ron was in a sulky mood, but that wasn’t going to deter Hermione. From what she had seen so far of Mrs Weasley, the older witch appeared to be watching the exchange between herself and Ron, waiting to see how their conversation went before she intervened. Or it could just be that she had yet to figure out why Ron was so upset, (unlikely) or else perhaps Harry had spoken to her to convince her that there was more to Hermione’s relationship with Bellatrix than ordinarily met the eye.
“How lovely,” Hermione forced out, with a smile through gritted teeth. “Have you been up to much?”
Ron shook his head, but he still didn’t make eye contact with Hermione.
After a few seconds of silence, Mrs Weasley cleared her throat. “And what about you?” she asked with what sounded like forced politeness, addressing Hermione and facing her head on. More than can be said for her son.
One look at Mrs Weasley’s face, and Hermione realised that she definitely knew of her relationship with Bellatrix, as expected. However, by not mentioning something so important it seemed that she wanted Hermione to reveal this herself before she could comment on it, not wishing to be the one to bring it into the conversation. It was possible that she didn’t want to blame Hermione for something that may have just been rumour, even if she had read about it in the Daily Prophet, or Harry and Ron had already told her themselves. Whatever the reason, Hermione wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction; she would work around it and let Mrs Weasley be the one to bring it up.
“I’ve been relaxing and adjusting to life after the war,” Hermione said, a simple half-truth. “Getting myself together.”
“Yes. Well,” Mrs Weasley said stiffly, and at once, Hermione sensed that she was going to mention Bellatrix after all, unable to help herself. “You should know that I didn’t speak to the Daily Prophet about you; I actually threatened Rita Skeeter with the kitchen knife I was chopping carrots with. Believe me, it wasn’t fear that led me to threaten to shove it where Lumos won’t shine!”
Hermione suddenly wanted to laugh, and had just opened her mouth to suggest that she should have followed through with her threat when Ron rudely interrupted. “I’d have thought you’d want to find your parents,” he said, sounding bitter and judgemental. “Or don’t you care about them anymore either?”
Hermione sighed. It hadn’t taken Ron long to start with the sarcastic comments, and although she understood his anger, that didn’t mean she was going to let such a statement go unanswered. She resented the implication that she didn’t care about her parents, but she needed time to get herself sorted out before finding them. Apart from being scared of what state she may find them in, the last thing she wanted after giving her parents back their memories of her was for them to discover they had a shell of a daughter rather than the bright and vivacious one they had previously known. As it was she was going to have to locate them in Australia which was a difficult task in itself, followed by explaining to them why she had made the decision to modify their memories. If she wanted some times to work things through in her head to grieve and become used to her life now, then who was Ron to judge?
“Of course I care, but it isn’t as simple as just finding them and giving them their memories back,” Hermione said, trying to sound patient. “There’s more to it than that.”
“Like what?” Ron said, look at her with disgust. “Oh wait, I know. Your girlfriend probably doesn’t want you to, right? I mean, your parents are Muggles, aren’t they? She probably won’t be able to stop herself from introducing them to Crucio!”
In truth, Hermione didn’t know what Bellatrix thought of her parents. Although she had briefly made references to them, and Bellatrix had refrained from saying anything derogatory in reply, that didn’t meant she wasn’t thinking of them in an offensive way. Hermione had been hoping that Bellatrix would find it in herself to accept them in the way that Hermione had tried to accept Bellatrix’s family (though Lucius Malfoy was bound to pose a problem in the future) and realise that Hermione needed her mother and father back in her life. However, there was no way she was going to tell Ron this. If there was one thing she was certain of it was that Ron didn’t need yet more ammunition against Bellatrix.
“That’s not fair,” Hermione said angrily. She glanced towards Mrs Weasley for support, but the older witch was unable to meet her eye all of a sudden. It made sense now that Hermione really thought about it; Mrs Weasley had killed Rodolphus whilst under the impression that he was Bellatrix, and so it was obvious that she held more than enough hate towards the raven haired witch. Who was to say that even if Ginny’s life hadn’t been at risk that Mrs Weasley wouldn’t have attacked the imposter Bellatrix anyway? “I thought you’d at least try and understand.”
“I tried!” Ron exclaimed. “I can’t though. It’s disgusting. If it has to be a woman you’re with, why that hideous thing?”
“You know nothing of my life now, Ronald,” she said sharply, defending Bellatrix to the hilt. “Because you haven’t bothered to get in touch. I want to be your friend; I love you. I miss you. But you have to accept that things are different now.”
“No I don’t,” Ron said stubbornly, ignoring Hermione’s declaration entirely. “I don’t care if I never see you again. Go to hell, Hermione.”
Hermione nodded. “Fine. I see there’s absolutely no reasoning with you...” she turned to Mrs Weasley. “Does the same go for you and Mr Weasley?”
“That is something that I just cannot answer at present, Hermione,” Mrs Weasley said wearily. “Look at it from our point of view. Bellatrix has committed some truly atrocious acts; I dread to think about the things she did whilst she served You-Know-Who as a Death Eater. Have you forgotten that she burned down our home too? Not to mention that she abducted and tortured you... how on earth have you forgiven her for doing something so awful?”
“I have forgiven her for all that she has done wrong,” Hermione said simple.
“Some say that some acts are so abhorrent that they’re unforgiveable,” Mrs Weasley responded. “Not everyone is able to do what you have done.”
“I accept that,” Hermione said carefully. “But the end of the war means that everyone alive now should be granted a second chance if they are willing to change. And no matter what her motivations were, Bellatrix did a lot of good in the end.”
“Like what?” Ron interjected incredulously, banging his hand on the table in front of him. His cheeks flamed with rage, making his freckles stand out even more.
“She saved Neville’s life for one,” Hermione retorted. “Had she not done that straight after he had killed Voldemort’s snake, Nagini, then he would be dead now.”
Ron stared at her with disgust, but otherwise didn’t comment on this admission. In fairness to Mrs Weasley, she did have the decency to look surprised as opposed to disbelieving.
“She also defended Kingsley,” Hermione added for good measure.
Again there was no response from Ron, although fortunately at that moment, Harry entered the room with both Ginny and Crookshanks trailing behind him. “Hermione,” Harry said, the expression on his face implying that he had sensed the animosity in the room. He stepped towards Hermione in spite of the tension and pulled her into a hug. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you,” Hermione said, attempting to sound upbeat and failing miserably. In an attempt to cover it up, she bent down to stroke Crookshanks’ head tenderly, and hugged him to her chest, where he rested contently now that he was back with his magical familiar.
“I think I’ll leave you all to it,” Mrs Weasley announced, making her way towards the door. “Goodbye, Hermione.”
“Goodbye,” Hermione said, in the same formal, polite tone that Mrs Weasley had used when speaking her parting words.
“I’m coming too mum,” Ron said immediately, and without bothering to so much as even look Hermione’s way again, he strode out of the kitchen.
Now, faced with only Ginny and Harry, Hermione asked to neither of them in particular, “So am I right in assuming everyone else hates me?”
“No,” Ginny answered softly. “Ron’s just upset and I suppose mum and dad don’t really know what to make of things. George is really depressed about Fred, and the others... well they haven’t given their opinion as they’ve had other things to worry about. But I think that everyone thought that you and Ron would eventually... you know...” her voice trailed off, but the implication was clear. Get married. Have a baby, and at least another before living a long, happy life together.
“I think we all did,” Hermione admitted, her cheeks going red. “But I can’t help the way I feel, Ginny. I love Bellatrix, and nothing is ever going to change that no matter how much easier my life would be if I didn’t.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I know that more than anyone. Last year when Harry, you and Ron disappeared, everyone told me I had to move on, that I was clinging onto false hope of ever being with Harry again, but it didn’t matter,” Ginny said sincerely, sharing a contented look with Harry. “You can’t change your feelings, no matter how much you want to. So... I understand that much. What I don’t understand is how Bellatrix can have changed so suddenly, but I trust you and I choose to believe you when you say that she has.”
“Me too,” Harry said finally. “Don’t get me wrong; I still hate her, but she would have no reason to lie about Sirius. The others believe that too, you know. Their main problem is that they can’t comprehend why you’d want to be with someone who has served Voldemort all this time.”
“Semper Amor,” Hermione said tiredly. “Isn’t that explanation enough.”
“We know that,” Harry said, answering for Ginny also. “But from an outsider’s perspective, I suppose it’s hard to imagine how that sort of love can be so strong.”
“Well when they wonder again, tell them this,” Hermione instructed. “It’s love of great magnitude; all consuming, all powerful, and all controlling. When we were apart I felt as though I couldn’t survive without her and that I would do anything to be with her, even if it meant giving up everyone I’ve ever cared about. I would be happier with her in the middle of the dessert with no food or money than I would to live in luxury with the most beautiful and kind man or woman in the world. That’s how much I want and need her. She is my everything.”
Harry nodded. “Really Hermione, we understand, and we can see how earnest you are. We’ll tell them but whilst they will probably appreciate that you feel that way, they won’t be able to accept that Bellatrix is capable of feeling a small amount of love, let alone love the way you have just described it. They will be unlikely to believe she is no longer a threat. That’s something I find hard to believe too, if I’m honest.”
This was something that Hermione could appreciate. Harry had accepted the truth about Bellatrix’s actions, but he was also smart enough to be entirely aware that she had still done a lot of terrible things, even if she hadn’t been the one to take Sirius away from him. Harry hated her for everything that she stood for because at the end of the day, his parents were still dead. He had grown up without a mother or father because of the cause that Bellatrix had stood for. The mere fact that Harry was mature enough to see past that and allow the love he felt for Hermione overrule his anger and upset was testament to all that he had learned from Dumbledore. It was clear to Hermione that this time a couple of years ago, he might not have been so understanding.
Hermione nodded. “I understand that. I don’t expect you to ever be friends with Bellatrix, or even to like her. But I still want you in my life. Ron too, if he ever permits it.”
“We still want you in our lives too,” Ginny said, and she pulled Hermione into a hug. “We’ll keep working on Ron, promise. But for now, don’t worry, ok? You still have us. And if you need anything, then we’re here.”
“Thank you,” Hermione said, smiling more easily now. Whilst things weren’t ok, it felt as though they were going to get better eventually. She still had friends, and as long as she had them, life would slowly improve. Even if when she went back to Hogwarts and people were foul to her, knowing that she had several people other than Bellatrix to turn to if she needed them would make everything more bearable. “I should probably go; I don’t want to overstay my welcome. But... well maybe we could meet up soon? Go shopping or something in Diagon Alley.”
“Sounds good,” Harry nodded. “Or a cinema trip. I’m introducing Ginny to the wonders of the Muggle world. I never got a chance to experience much of it as a child, and I’d like to now that there’s not an evil wizard trying to murder me.”
Hermione smiled. “That’d be lovely. And... thanks Ginny, for looking after Crookshanks. Thank your parents too for me.”
“He’s missed you,” Ginny said, staring at Crookshanks fondly. “And it was no trouble, honestly. Do you want his things?”
“Can you just send them on? I’ve bought him everything that he needs already and I have them back... well back where I’m staying,” she said uncomfortably, not knowing how to refer to Black Manor. Bellatrix’s home? My home? Maybe.
Ginny agreed to do so, ignoring Hermione’s discomfort which she was grateful for. The three hugged once more before Hermione gave an awkward sort of wave, and left through the back door, clutching Crookshanks in her arms. Although her visit had been brief and had started off uneasily, it had improved greatly by the end. The simple fact of knowing that she had Ginny onside in addition to Harry had brightened her spirits, because she had been envisioning the worst of scenarios where absolutely everyone hated her and wouldn’t even so much as look at her. It was a shame that Ron hadn’t been able to get past the hatred, but Hermione chose to have faith that he would one day change. At the moment things were still raw; Fred’s death, not to mention Lupin and Tonks’ deaths too would have hit the Weasley family especially hard. Maybe in time everyone would learn to be more accepting and to practice forgiveness, even if they were unable to forget.
**
After Apparating back to Black Manor, Hermione sat in the library with Crookshanks at her side, reading up on Memory Charms to take her mind off Ron, if only for a few hours. Besides, it was useful information for her to learn; she wanted to make sure she knew enough about the different sorts of charms to adequately reverse the spell she had placed her parents under. After doing this, she chose to work on her Occlumency skills as best she could with the help of a book and only herself. The most effective way for her to become fully competent at Occlumency would be to practice with an accomplished Legilimens. Unfortunately, Bellatrix was the only Legilimens that she knew, and Hermione wasn’t ready for Bellatrix to actively attempt to break into her mind, not willing for Bellatrix to see certain private memories, and especially because for the main part she wanted to use Occlumency to keep Bellatrix out of her head. The raven haired witch was so skilled that she managed to probe Hermione’s mind without her being fully aware of what was happening sometimes, and in the future, that was something Hermione would like to prevent. Eventually, when she was stronger and there was less for Bellatrix to know about that Hermione hadn’t already told her (she hoped that one day she could be open and honest with Bellatrix about everything) then she would be willing to ask her for help.
When Bellatrix finally arrived home, she was in a bad mood. Stomping with her heavy black leather boots out of fireplace and into the library, she threw herself down on the armchair next to Hermione. Sensing that Bellatrix was probably going to require her full attention, Hermione put down the book she was reading, The Discipline of Occlumency, and turned her body around so that she was now facing Bellatrix.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, genuinely concerned.
“That was dreadful,” Bellatrix complained. “That despicable woman, Healer Lawrence or whatever her bloody name was, didn’t even want to talk to me about my service to the Dark Lord; she wanted to talk to me about my childhood. Does that even make sense? Not to mention her insistence that I take a stupid bloody potion called Sedonus that will apparently help to stabilise my moods.”
Privately, Hermione thought everything that Bellatrix said sounded completely fine, but she didn’t want to say it in such a way as to offend Bellatrix or start an argument. Moving from her own armchair, she sat herself on Bellatrix’s lap, wrapping her arms around her lover’s neck. “Bella, even if you don’t want to do this, you have to. It’s a small price to pay for freedom, so it’s best just to cooperate.”
“I know,” Bellatrix said, sounding exasperated. She had yet to push Hermione away though, which she chose to take as a good sign. “It just seems so pointless! She was utterly fascinated by the most preposterous of things.”
“Like what?” Hermione asked curiously.
Bellatrix shrugged. “Oh I don’t know... ridiculous memories.”
“Such as?”
“Oh you know, the usual childhood memories,” Bellatrix said, shrugging her shoulders. “She was utterly enthralled by the fact my parents used physical punishments to chastise me, as though it’s strange for a father to use Wingardium Leviosa to levitate his child out of the window and then drop them!”
“Uhh, Bellatrix?” Hermione said, slightly disturbed. “That... that is strange. Actually it’s more than strange... it’s horrible.” It sounded as though Bellatrix’s father had abused her, whether she admitted it or not. Now that Hermione thought about it, Bellatrix’s angry nature and violent behaviour were not the signs of someone who had been brought up in a stable, loving home, with her sisters also testament to that. Narcissa was utterly cold and shut off, and even Andromeda seemed to have had a haunted look in her eye. For Bellatrix, it seemed that she had chosen to deal with whatever demons were in her past by inflicting her fury on others, whether she realised it or not.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Bellatrix huffed.
“Most parents don’t do that to their children,” Hermione said forcing herself to sound rational. “They stop them from reading their favourite books or from going out with their friends or punish them in a way that doesn’t involve physically hurting them.”
“Well how would you know? Your parents are only Muggles,” Bellatrix retorted. “Wizarding families do things differently.”
“Are you honestly telling me that you think it’s normal to levitate a child out of a window and then to drop them? That could kill them if they fall from somewhere high enough!” Hermione exclaimed. “I can guarantee that no normal family do that to their children, wizarding or otherwise.”
“Obviously they’re not dropped from more than about five or six feet in the air,” Bellatrix said matter-of-factly.
“It’s still sick,” Hermione proclaimed. “It’s called child abuse.”
“Anyway, what does it matter?” Bellatrix said indifferently. “All I know is that it’s none of her business.”
“The Soul-Healer is just trying to help, Bella,” Hermione said gently. Not wanting Bellatrix to lash out, she placed a soft kiss against her cheek, and buried her head into the older witch’s neck. “Don’t let it get to you. Please, don’t be mad.”
“I’m not angry with you,” Bellatrix said sharply. “I just don’t understand the necessity of this. I betrayed the Dark Lord whilst he was still in power. I have never hidden my feelings, or pretended to be innocent; I have confessed all that I am responsible for. Why should I be made to talk about past events that I wish to forget about?”
Hermione pulled back, staring at Bellatrix in awe. “You know, I wish you’d talk like this to me more often. It makes me feel like you’re trusting me, and that in turn I can be more open with you.”
It really, truly did. Bellatrix never lied to her, but she didn’t tell the truth either. She would very rarely reveal anything about her own life or feelings that meant something to her, and so to imply that she had suffered some sort of abuse to Hermione and her Soul Healer was a major thing in Hermione’s eyes. Now that she had disclosed something so personal to Hermione, she didn’t want to completely discount the confession, but neither did Hermione want to push too hard and make Bellatrix close up once more. It was difficult to decide what to do for the best.
“I just don’t see why it is necessary to discuss the past,” Bellatrix stated, and now she sounded monotone. It was the sort of statement said in such a cold way that for a second, Hermione felt as though she were in a room with Narcissa, not Bellatrix.
“Sometimes the past has to be talked about,” Hermione said, taking hold of one of Bellatrix’s hands, and feeling elated when she didn’t pull away. “I’m not saying it has to be something you talk about every single day for the rest of your life, but you should be able to talk about it sometimes, even if it’s painful.”
“It’s not painful,” Bellatrix denied, and she said it so vehemently, Hermione wasn’t sure whether or not she was telling the truth anymore. People could be more forceful with their words whether they were telling the truth or when they were lying, and Hermione wasn’t sure which of these applied to Bellatrix’s latest statement. “I wish to talk about something else now, if you don’t mind.”
“Ok,” Hermione said, choosing not to press the subject for the moment. Bellatrix had probably had enough for today and needed to unwind. “What do you want to talk about?”
Instead of replying, Bellatrix gave a yelp. “What is that?” she looked down horrified at Crookshanks who she had just spotted resting in front of Hermione on the floor.
“Crookshanks. Remember I told you about him?” Hermione said calmly. “I picked him up from the Weasleys today. Now that the war is over and I’m safe, it’s ok for him to be with me again. I have everything needed to look after him; I bought it all the other day in Diagon Alley, so I can show you how to care for him whilst I’m gone.”
“Speak to Lemmy; she can do that,” Bellatrix said dismissively, not sounding particularly enthusiastic. “Wait, what? You went to the Weasleys?”
Hermione nodded. “Yes.” Underneath her, Bellatrix stiffened. Smart enough to recognise the signs of Bellatrix’s disapproval, Hermione quickly continued to speak. “You don’t need to worry because Ron didn’t even want to come near me. He hates me.”
“What happened?” Bellatrix demanded, not looking at all mollified. Once again, her pretty features had contorted horribly; a sign that she was becoming extremely irate.
In an attempt to comfort Bellatrix and prevent an outburst, Hermione slowly stroked her finger along Bellatrix’s face and across her lips. “I spoke with Harry and Ginny, and even though they aren’t exactly your biggest fans, they’re trying to get used to the idea. Apparently Mr and Mrs Weasley are torn and unsure of what to think. I wasn’t really there long enough to learn more than that,” she said calmly.
Surprisingly, Bellatrix smirked. “That ginger cow is probably devastated it wasn’t me she murdered.”
“Don’t talk about her like that,” Hermione said, defending Mrs Weasley. For all her faults she had always been good to Hermione, and had never failed to treat her well. Even now she hadn’t done anything particularly nasty to her; if anything, she was more hurtful years previously during the Triwizard Tournament, when she had read the Rita Skeeter article about Hermione supposedly toying with Harry and Krum’s affections at the same time. “She’s a good person.”
Bellatrix stared at Hermione, nostrils flaring. “Do you fancy her?”
Hermione gawped back at Bellatrix, mouth open. “What...? I... no! Bloody hell, Bellatrix, what is wrong with you? No! She’s like a mother to me.”
“Are you sure?” Bellatrix questioned her once again.
“Am I...? Yes! Yes, I am! Never ask me such a ridiculous question again!” Hermione exclaimed, unable to believe she was actually having such a conversation.
Hermione came to the conclusion that Bellatrix really was the most jealous person she had ever met. In hindsight it should have been fairly obvious a long time ago; when Rodolphus tried to use Hermione for his own pleasure it was probably the first sign of Bellatrix’s possessiveness. Hermione couldn’t believe that someone as headstrong and confident as Bellatrix would be worried about being betrayed, especially considering Semper Amor, but there was nothing she could do except try to placate her fears. Bellatrix was evidently going to have some problems adapting to being in a normal relationship after the weird one that she had had with Rodolphus when he’d still been alive.
Bellatrix’s dark orbs focused on her own. “How do I know I can trust you?”
Hermione sighed, and despite her annoyance at Bellatrix, she kissed her tenderly on the lips. “I love you, idiot. The sooner you realise that the better.”
Bellatrix didn’t reply; instead she just pulled Hermione towards her once again. Sensing that it was a private moment between Hermione and Bellatrix, Crookshanks slipped out of the room quietly, Hermione supposing that he was leaving to explore the rest of the house.
Focusing on Bellatrix, Hermione allowed her to take the lead. She submitted herself to whatever Bellatrix chose to do, which was apparently to remove her shirt and bra so that Hermione was sat on her lap topless. Bellatrix stared at her chest with pure, unadulterated lust in her eyes, and unconsciously licked her lips. Enjoying the response she was drawing from Bellatrix, Hermione smiled, feeling her cheeks inflame from the attention that she was being paid.
Seconds later and Bellatrix fumbled with Hermione’s jeans, trying her best to tug at the button and pull them down. She struggled, for although they were far from tight considering Hermione’s weight loss, it was evident that Bellatrix wasn’t used to such material. She wrinkled her nose with the effort, and it was plain to see that she was getting frustrated by the seemingly simple task that she could not complete.
“Let me do it,” Hermione said, extremely amused.
Obliging, Bellatrix let go, but not before she flashed Hermione with a glare. “What are these stupid things you insist on wearing anyway?”
Now, Hermione couldn’t help giggling. “They’re called jeans.”
“Well I don’t like them,” Bellatrix stated, and the second Hermione had undone them, she tugged them down.
“Too bad,” Hermione said, and before Bellatrix could get herself worked up, she leaned in and kissed her. Throwing her jeans to the floor, she straddled Bellatrix with only her underwear on, her thighs wrapped around Bellatrix, and her upper body pressed against her lover. All that remained between them now was the clothing that Bellatrix wore; her black leather vest, thinly veiled black top and bra prevented Hermione from seeing her breasts too. Without pause, Hermione wasted no time in pulling each layer from Bellatrix, casting everything to the side and staring down at her lover’s newly revealed flesh.
Desperate for Bellatrix to remove the rest of her clothing, Hermione undid each clasp rapidly, and roughly dragged down her lengthy black skirt. Next, she pulled off Bellatrix’s laced black bra, and yanked down her knickers. Although Bellatrix didn’t object to such treatment, she evidently wanted to outdo Hermione as she pulled on her panties with such force that she ripped them in the process.
“Oops,” Bellatrix said, smirking.
With a growl, Hermione pulled Bellatrix backwards, and as she fell towards the floor, she flipped their positions so that she landed on top of her lover. She used as much strength as she could muster to pin back Bellatrix’s arms against the floor, before she connected their mouths in a searing hot kiss. Although she was in charge, she suspected that if the raven haired witch really had a problem with it then she would easily be able to control Hermione. Apparently, she was letting her take the role of the dominant one for once. Savouring it whilst it lasted, Hermione lightly nipped at Bellatrix’s neck, breasts, even belly button, before she lowered her head towards Bellatrix’s core. After several teasing strokes, she jammed her tongue inside of Bellatrix, drawing out wild moans from the older woman that highlighted exactly how much pleasure was pulsing through her. Replacing her tongue with three fingers, Hermione alternated between sucking and nipping at Bellatrix’s throbbing clit, causing her to come within minutes, screaming out in ecstasy as she did so.
Now it was Hermione’s return to smirk. She raised her head, arching an eyebrow at Bellatrix, and she knew from the expression on her lover’s face that she was very pissed off that Hermione had made her orgasm so quickly. It was only a matter of seconds and far too soon for Hermione to react, that she found herself underneath Bellatrix, with the older woman on top of her. Blinking, she wondered how exactly she had managed to reverse their positions so rapidly, before she realised that Bellatrix was much more capable of holding her down than the other way around, especially when she was annoyed.
Bellatrix didn’t even bother to lower her head; she thrust two fingers inside of Hermione with no warm-up, already aware of how wet she was from what had transpired between them so far. Hermione had always been the sort of girl to anticipate things, enjoying the build-up, and sex with Bellatrix was no exception. She knew it wouldn’t be long before her own release; Bellatrix held down her upper body, but not her lower half. Apparently Bellatrix was willing enough to allow Hermione a little control, which enabled her to bend her knees and spread her legs as wide as possible, serving to increase her pleasure further. In such a position it was easy for Bellatrix to powerfully flick Hermione’s clit with her thumb, drawing moans and screams, until with one last thrust inside of her, Hermione’s body rose and fell in a shattering climax. Oh yes! Yes, yes, Bella!
If Hermione had expectations that it would now be over, she was sorely mistaken. She barely had time to catch her breath when she realised that Bellatrix had shoved her head in between her legs, and was now lapping at her enthusiastically, her mouth pressed down against her centre, causing tiny jolts to run through Hermione’s body. Gasping, she raised her head to look down at her lover, who had now focused all of her attention’s solely on Hermione’s core. Moving faster, she began to speed up as Hermione struggled to focus her eyes on the soft wet lips that sucked at her desperately, until finally, she slammed back down on the floor, calling out Bellatrix’s name as she came for the second time.
Grinning, Bellatrix raised her head, lewdly wiping her mouth, and sucking each of her fingers in turn. “Never try to get one over on me, sweetie,” she purred.
Hermione only whimpered at the sight before her, more turned on than ever. She watched as Bellatrix lay back on the floor next to her, and forcing what little energy she still had in her body to the surface, she crawled across onto her. Out of breath, she buried her head into Bellatrix’s neck, ignoring the ninety-three tattoo that one day she would persuade Bellatrix to get rid of. Such beautiful skin shouldn’t be tainted with a crude prisoner tattoo, especially when that was no longer Bellatrix’s identity.
Words couldn’t truly describe everything that Hermione felt now, but there was an intense, burning desire within, coupled with lust, love and several other feelings all for the raven-haired beauty who lay beneath her. Breathing hard, she moved raven curls backwards to reveal porcelain white skin, and shakily placed a gentle kiss on Bellatrix’s neck. She enjoyed showing Bellatrix affection, knowing it wasn’t something that hadn’t been handed out to her enough over the years. It angered Hermione, because despite the fact she had done terrible things, it didn’t mean she deserved that kind of treatment. Especially not as a child, Hermione considered, remembering Bellatrix’s blasé attitude about her parents punishing her. If anything, the lack of warmth and tenderness had probably contributed to Bellatrix’s attitude and behaviour.
“What was that for?” Bellatrix asked curiously.
“Just felt like it,” Hermione said. In her head she was thinking get one over on me all you like because I bloody love you, but she wouldn’t be so stupid as to confess this to Bellatrix, knowing that even if she submitted to her, she wasn’t willing to openly admit it yet. Bellatrix probably had an inkling of what she was thinking about, but she wouldn’t call her on it; deep down she seemed to know she was lucky enough to have Hermione, and for all her faults, she had not once forced her to do anything she hadn’t wanted to do when it came to issues of intimacy.
“Now you’re the idiot,” Bellatrix said, but her voice was filled with a teasing fondness that made it clear Bellatrix liked the fact that Hermione was happy to show how much she cared for her in a physical way.
If there was any doubt at all as to the meaning behind Bellatrix’s words, it was all erased when she grasped her wand from the table next to where they lay, and summoned a blanket and pillows, which she used to create a makeshift bed for them, there on the library floor. Hermione briefly wondered what Lemmy would think if she happened upon them like this, before she realised that it didn’t matter. Instead, she allowed Bellatrix to gently manoeuvre her so that she was fully cushioned, and before Hermione fell asleep, she was aware of a tender kiss being placed upon her forehead, and Bellatrix’s thumb softly stroking her forearm, sending shivers of pleasure down through her body once more.
Laying in Bellatrix’s arms, for the first time, Hermione felt completely safe and content. Thank you, Bellatrix.
**