FIC: Impossible (16/30)
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), (14), (15)
I really struggled to get this chapter exactly how I wanted it, and it's slightly lengthier than planned, mainly due to some last minute entire blocks of text I deleted and rewrote. Also, for clarification's sake, the format of the Galleon in this part and the last is TIME then DATE/MONTH/YEAR. Anyway... hope you enjoy the latest update!
**
I think I'll change my ways
So all your words get noticed
Tomorrow's a brand new day
Forty Foot Echo, Brand New Day**
16.
True to her word, Hermione had not gone to see Bellatrix the next day, ignoring the burning coin and placing it into her beaded bag until the time of the offered meeting had passed. She spent the coming weeks recuperating from the experience with Harry and Ron, mulling over the information they had learned regarding wands from Ollivander (who had also been rescued from Malfoy Manor, along with Luna) and speaking to Griphook about Gringotts. Even after making a deal to give him the sword of Gryffindor, albeit after they had used it to defeat the Horcruxes, Hermione had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, worried that their eventual plan to turn her into Bellatrix was going to go horribly wrong.
Her nerves weren’t helped by the fact that Fleur and Bill kept fussing around, making it impossible for her to think half of the time. Although she appreciated the additional company, she really could have done with a great deal more peace than she was currently granted in order to consider how she felt towards Bellatrix after the events at Malfoy Manor, and whether Bellatrix would attempt to contact her again. She couldn’t see how Bellatrix could possibly intend on aiding the Order after her behaviour, but then she still didn’t understand what the whispered words were about. It was for this reason that eventually, Hermione came to accept that the only way she would finally have clarity would be to meet with Bellatrix once more.
It was in fact nearly a month after the original time and date offered by Bellatrix that the Galleon burned again, and a second meeting was offered, now reading:
04.00. 02.04.98
Logically, Hermione assumed this would mean four a.m. considering that she was using a twenty-four hour clock. Apparently, despite her asking Bellatrix to choose daylight hours, the witch had completely ignored her request. Typical. Nevertheless, it probably wouldn’t make too much of a difference now that they were staying with Bill and Fleur and there was immense protection surrounding Shell Cottage, as everyone slept at night and there was no necessity for lookouts as there had been when it was just Harry, Ron and Hermione.
Hermione was determined not to spend the rest of her life dreaming of Bellatrix, and aching within her heart to such an extent that she couldn’t make sense of her own thoughts in the way that she could before. No longer could she easily distinguish between right and wrong, the light and the dark. She accepted that Semper Amor did exist between them, for as the days went on she steadily felt emotionally worse. However, she refused to allow the ancient magical love to become a factor in the war against Voldemort. Bellatrix would have to pledge her loyalty one way or the other, and if she did promise to help battle against Voldemort then Hermione wasn’t going to just accept it at face value; she would request solid proof of some sort.
I’ll play to win, she vowed.
Although she intended to meet Bellatrix, Hermione was more anxious than she had thought possible. Her fear mainly stemmed from the fact that she no longer had her own wand and was forced to currently use Bellatrix’s. As she had not won it from the talented witch it failed to work in the way that it should for her, which did complicate matters if she needed to defend herself against Bellatrix. There was always the possibility of stealing Draco’s which Harry was currently in possession of, but Bellatrix was still likely to ask for her wand to be returned from Hermione. Whether Voldemort was aware that they had stolen several wands from his Death Eaters Hermione couldn’t say for certain, but she was pretty sure that had he made this unpleasant discovery he would be even more furious.
Hermione had decided that she would have to go through with the meeting offered, despite the risks. Maybe she would be forced to attempt to kill Bellatrix, or else harm her if the need arose for her to escape. Whatever happened, she considered the rage she held inside to be so strong at the moment that it would sufficient enough to defend herself successfully at the very least. Righteous anger was nothing compared to how she felt now, for Dobby, for Harry, for Ron and every other person that had been affected by Voldemort, his followers and every evil belief that they stood for.
**
March 1998
“Cissy,” Bellatrix whispered, dragging her sister through the door of her own bedroom, and shutting it behind them. Lucius and Draco were currently outside in the courtyard, no one else was in the Manor (including the Dark Lord who was off on an unknown, private mission) and this was probably the best opportunity Bellatrix was going to get to speak to Narcissa privately. “I need to borrow your wand tomorrow.”
“My... my wand?” Narcissa stuttered, looking confused. “Why?”
“There’s something I need to do,” Bellatrix said urgently, eyes large and wide, her hands holding onto Narcissa’s. “Please.”
“The Dark Lord has forbidden us to leave here,” Narcissa hissed in disbelief. “You can’t even go to your own home at the moment, Bella! If the Dark Lord finds out then he’ll kill you.”
Bellatrix shook her head. “I’ll be careful. But I don’t have a wand, and I need one. Please, trust me.”
Narcissa looked horrified. “What are you going to do? You’re not thinking of going after Potter yourself, are you? We have no idea where he is and even if we did, it’s unlikely you could take him on alone!”
Bellatrix blew out a breath in annoyance. “This is nothing to do with Potter! Well, not directly, anyway.”
She meant what she said. The skirmish at her sister’s manor had led Bellatrix to realise that she had to think about what she was doing. Now that she had seen for herself exactly how Potter fought and the support he had, she realised that this was no longer just a child they were up against. It scared her, to wonder of Potter’s powers. At the Ministry nearly two years previously she had not had the opportunity to witness his talents due to her Lord’s possession of her, and she had always assumed it was merely down to Dumbledore. Again, on the night that Dumbledore died there had not been the opportunity for a proper, thorough duel, and at Malfoy Manor too, though admittedly no one but a talented wizard could have got themselves out of that, even considering the help from the elf.
“Then what is it?” Narcissa asked, frowning. She searched Bellatrix’s face in an attempt to discover what was going on, and Bellatrix quickly schooled her features into a picture of blankness.
“I can’t tell you,” she said ominously. “If the Dark Lord were to penetrate your mind...you... well you just have to trust me.”
“Bellatrix, I am more than accomplished in the art of Occlumency,” Narcissa said, firmly gripping her hand now. “You cannot expect me to hand over to you the only weapon of defence that my family currently have for an unknown reason that may only result in us getting into an even more perilous position than we already are; which as you know, is saying something!”
Bellatrix sighed. Apparently, Narcissa was not going to give up her wand without a fight or without further information. “Your skills in Occlumency do not equal the Dark Lord’s in the area of Legilimency, Cissy.”
“When it comes to protecting my family I will more than match the Dark Lord,” Narcissa sneered, and there was a sudden fierceness in her eyes that Bellatrix was sure she had never borne witness to before. Despite this, she could not bring herself to be angry with her sister, for she was smart enough to realise that although Narcissa loved her family and she would go to great lengths to protect Draco, she still loved and cared for Bellatrix herself at the same time. Sometimes, it made Bellatrix wonder if Narcissa was just as insane as she herself was.
“I... I believe that the Dark Lord has reason to fear Potter, now more than ever. ” Bellatrix said, feeling disgusting for her betrayal, but continuing all the same. She would allow herself to because of Semper Amor, even if she couldn’t tell her sister about her darling little Mudblood yet. To carry out her intentions she would tell Narcissa as much information as she felt she could, (and the little she knew) but without risking too much and putting her sister in jeopardy. “I do not believe he has been simply hiding all of these months; I think he has been doing something to vanquish the Dark Lord.” She paused, considering her next words. “It may be time for us to... re-evaluate our priorities.”
“You have always claimed to be faithful to the Dark Lord, you have never once wavered in your loyalty towards him,” Narcissa said suspiciously.
“I have a feeling that this time his defeat may be more permanent,” Bellatrix confided, and she held up a hand to stop Narcissa interrupting. She didn’t know exactly what had been happening, but from what she had seen inside of Hermione’s head, there was reason to fear Potter. She hadn’t tried hard enough to break through the Occlumency barriers that her little one raised to prevent her finding out precisely what she was doing with Ron and Harry, because she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know. Moreover, she didn’t want the younger witch to realise that she was attempting to penetrate her mind and to consequently change her plans. “Do not ask me why I believe this, because it’s complicated. But needless to say, I do not want to spend the rest of my life in Azkaban for a cause which has proved fruitless.”
Narcissa gaped. “What you’re saying is... you are turning on... our Lord?”
Bellatrix swallowed. “No. Not in here, where it counts” she said, raising a hand to her heart, and forcing herself to face Narcissa directly. Even if she did betray her Lord, she wouldn’t be able to stop believing in him with just a flick of her wand. It was too complicated, longwinded and risky to explain for the moment though, and so Bellatrix simply said, “But I love you, Cissy. And Draco, I suppose. Lucius can go and fuck himself, but know that from now on, my concern is for you. Can you accept that?”
“No, because there’s something you’re not telling me, and you still haven’t answered my question,” Narcissa said, although her tone was softer after Bellatrix’s admission. “Why do you need my wand?”
"If I told you that I was going to meet someone who can give us help to give us second chance when this is over, would that be sufficient?” Bellatrix asked hopefully.
“It would if you weren’t you,” Narcissa sighed. “What happened to the Bellatrix who loved the insanity of war and bloodshed? Who quite happily rejects our own sister for falling in love and feels no guilt over it, as I do? How can you proclaim to love me when you so hate Andromeda?”
Love, Bellatrix thought, focusing only on that one word. Now she was the one in love. A ridiculous, abysmal, horrendous love that entrapped her so completely that she couldn’t function. Her dreams of bloodlust and service to the Dark Lord had been absent for a while now, and after he performed the Cruciatus Curse on her for the first time, she realised that even if he did win, she would always be nothing to him. The power would always be his and never hers. With Hermione though, her darling Mudblood, she could have all she had ever wanted. Control. Domination. She would be the Mistress in charge, finally.
But she couldn’t tell Narcissa that. Not yet. “That Bellatrix doesn’t exist anymore,” she said as a substitute for the truth. “My priorities have changed.” She drew her hands from Narcissa’s and for the first time in almost eighteen years, she warmly enveloped her into a hug.
Apparently she had made the right decision, for Narcissa pulled away and said reluctantly, “Fine. Take the wand.”
Inwardly, Bellatrix cheered silently. It was debatable whether Hermione would meet her considering what had just happened, but if that was the case then Bellatrix would allow her time to calm down before suggesting another. Perhaps another month and she would be ready for them to meet once more. Bellatrix was sure that she could persuade Narcissa to give up her wand for a second occasion should she say the right thing and catch her in a good mood. It was a relief, really, after facing the Dark Lord’s fury to know that things might not always have to be this way. One day, she could have all the power she had ever desired, as long as she played her cards right.
**
Sneaking out of Shell Cottage was easier than Hermione imagined it to be. Harry had slept deeply (no doubt helped by the Firewhiskey Hermione had poured both him and Ron before bed) and Draco’s wand was at his side, lying on the cabinet. As quietly as possible, Hermione had grasped the wand and snuck out of the cottage, Disapparating the second that she exited the wards that surrounded the property. She didn’t want to hang around and risk someone getting up and seeing her wandering outside, especially with no valid reason.
This time when she arrived at Bellatrix’s home, Hermione didn’t want to enter in the same fashion. Bellatrix would be on her guard and so it was pointless to try and sneak into the home; on this occasion there would either be greater protection in place or Bellatrix would be expecting her to try a more convoluted means of confronting her. For this reason, Hermione simply knocked the front door not even wearing the Invisibility Cloak, and waited for Bellatrix to open it.
The instance that the door clicked open, Hermione pushed her way inside and with a wave of her wand, rendered Bellatrix incapable of moving. The Body-Bind Curse always was a useful spell to know. Shutting the front door, Hermione took the wand that Bellatrix held in her hand from her, and then moving backwards, she stated without even a greeting, “I’m going to unfreeze you now, ok? But don’t even think about trying to hurt me, because I won’t hesitate to kill you.”
Hermione gave Bellatrix a few seconds to take in the instructions, before she flicked her wand once more, and Bellatrix stumbled forward, getting used to movement again. She looked shocked that Hermione had attempted such a curse and had disarmed her of her wand, perhaps even seeming slightly afraid judging by the way her pupils were dilated.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Bellatrix protested. “I just wanted to talk to you, like we planned.”
Hermione laughed wryly, pointing her wand at Bellatrix. “Like we planned before you killed Dobby, you mean?”
“Dobby?” Bellatrix frowned. She looked confused. “You mean that demented elf who used to belong to Narcissa? The one that turned up her manor the other day?”
“Oh but of course, you’re not going to care about an elf, are you?!” Hermione exclaimed, mocking Bellatrix. “Why bother to learn his name even before you stuck a knife in his chest you vindictive, evil BITCH!”
Bellatrix stared at Hermione, eyes wide. She didn’t appear to believe what she was hearing, but there was no sudden flash of anger, just an expression of shock. Her hair was wild and untamed, falling around her face, and she looked tired, prominent bags under her eyes. “I didn’t... what?”
“You threw the knife when Dobby Disapparated with us,” Hermione snapped. “And now he’s dead! Because of you.”
“I...” Bellatrix paused. “That wasn’t my intention; I was just frustrated at the fact that you were leaving.”
“Escaping, more like!” Hermione thundered. “How would you feel if it was your elf, Bellatrix? If someone had killed Lemmy?!”
Bellatrix cleared her throat. “Well... I would be a little annoyed, yes.”
“That’s it? You would be ‘a little annoyed’ and nothing else? I thought you cared about Lemmy? She’s the one creature in this world that you don’t actually torture, anyhow!”
“Of course I care about Lemmy, but she’s still just a sodding elf! It’s not really about that though, is it? It’s about the fact I tortured you!” Bellatrix said, and Hermione could see in her expression that she was becoming riled.
“Partly, but it’s also because YOU KILLED DOBBY!” Hermione yelled. Her voice breaking, she added, “Do you have any idea how much he meant to us? We loved him.”
Bellatrix rolled her eyes. It was obvious to Hermione that despite the fact she had shown herself to be capable of love, she still wasn’t able to entirely comprehend that others felt it. She was so consumed in her own little bubble that she failed to realise that her actions had consequences for others, and that a moment’s irrationality on her part could lead to a lifetime of heartache for another. Nevertheless, there was no way that Hermione would be able to teach her how to empathise for others in a single day, for it was something that she would have to learn gradually over time.
“Stop shouting. I thought you came here so that we could have a conversation,” Bellatrix said, sounding irritated.
Hermione ignored her, and decided at the very least she was determined to make Bellatrix understand that she’d done something entirely terrible and hideous. “What if it had been me, Bellatrix? What if you had killed me?”
“I didn’t though,” Bellatrix said pointedly, shrugging her shoulders. “What’s the point in discussing something that didn’t happen?”
Hermione stared, holding her wand out and shaking her head, unable to speak. She truly didn’t have a clue what on earth was going through Bellatrix’s head half of the time. Most people would have apologised and begged for forgiveness, but she was stood as still as the statue of Muggles at the feet of wizards and witches that currently occupied the Ministry of Magic. There was nothing from her, no expression on her face, no tears or pleading words. It sickened Hermione inside, twisting at her stomach. How had she ever fallen in everlasting love with someone like the woman before her?
She wanted to scream and shake Bellatrix to make her understand exactly what she had done. She didn’t seem to comprehend the fact that a few moments of pleasure or venting anger on her part could result in an individual's suffering. And Hermione wasn’t even bringing herself into the equation; she was wondering about the rash, impulsive decisions that Bellatrix had likely taken over the years when inflicting the Cruciatus Curse or similar pain-inducing curses on her poor unsuspecting victims. She just didn’t think about the damage she had caused for she was too selfish.
Bellatrix didn’t move for a few seconds longer, and stood surveying Hermione. “Please, lower your wand. I do not want to fight, merely to talk.”
Hermione, who hadn’t thought to check Bellatrix’s person before unfreezing her (and considering the bond between them it wouldn’t exactly have been a comfortable experience anyway) was more than wary. “How do I know that you’re not going to have another knife stuffed inside your dress, ready to launch at me?”
“Because I don’t want to kill you,” Bellatrix said quietly. “And you’ve taken my wand... Narcissa’s wand, I mean, although you have mine too, I assume?”
“This wand is Draco’s,” Hermione said, and she lowered her wand slightly. “And yes, we have your wand, but I didn’t think it was a good idea to bring it tonight as it probably wouldn’t work too well against its’ actual owner. Narcissa allowed you to borrow her wand?”
“Smart move,” Bellatrix said, and it almost sounded like she was praising her. “Yes, I loaned Narcissa’s wand. Considering it is the only wand our family has at the moment, she was extremely reluctant to give it to me. I don’t suppose you have my broomstick with you though, do you?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Hermione said in disbelief unable to comprehend why Bellatrix would think that now was the right time to bring up the subject. “I don’t even have your broomstick myself anymore. When the Snatchers brought us to you it was left inside our tent, which we also haven’t been able to recover through fear of ending up caught by your stupid Lord.”
Bellatrix flinched, but otherwise remained silent.
“You’re not defending him?” Hermione continued, ranting on. She knew she should stop provoking Bellatrix but she was furious with the older witch for so many things that she just couldn’t stop herself. “What, is this a ploy to make me believe that you’re on our side now?”
There was something that was different about Bellatrix, but Hermione couldn’t quite figure out what it was. She seemed less abrasive for definite, but there was something more than that. Has she been anyone but the insane Death Eater Hermione knew her to be, she would say that Bellatrix seemed softer. No though, that wasn’t quite it. There was weariness within Bellatrix that Hermione had never thought to be possible. She was always so up, hyper, or contrary to that, quiet or childish. Here, she wasn’t any of these things, she was just so... normal. Unfeeling and quiet, but normal.
“So you’re angry at me because of the elf?” Bellatrix said finally, ignoring Hermione’s question and answering with one of her own.
“Dobby. His name was Dobby,” Hermione spat. “At least have the decency to speak his name!”
“Fine, Dobby,” Bellatrix said dismissively. And then, in a gentler voice she added, “Is that why you’re furious? Because I have a feeling it’s more than that. I tortured you...”
“Yes,” Hermione said, trying not to allow her emotions to override her and to stay calm, though she knew it was basically a futile attempt on her part. “And also because, oh, I don’t know, after torturing me for information you decided to summon Him!”
“I’ve tortured you before,” Bellatrix stated, truthfully, disregarding Hermione’s last issue.
“Not since you accepted the connection between us,” Hermione countered, unable to speak the words Semper Amor aloud. “When you first captured me, it was because you hated me and everything I stood for. Now though, you’re supposed to love me whether you want to or not, at least enough not to hurt me the way you did. But maybe you just like to torture for fun! Maybe you don’t actually care about who wins the war, this is just one giant mindfuck of a game to you.”
Bellatrix started, remaining silent. Her dark eyes remained focused on Hermione, but she didn’t move a single muscle.
“When I started really caring about you, I thought maybe you cared about me too. I was so wrong,” Hermione continued, becoming even more frustrated. She wiped away the tears that had began leaking out of her eyes, knowing that she was crying through anger and wishing that she had the guts to just throw the Cruciatus Curse at Bellatrix to see if revenge made her feel better.
Deep down, she knew that it wouldn’t. Hermione was not the sort of person who could turn her pain onto others, or at least, not physically. Bellatrix was of a different mould to her; she could use the Dark Arts against others and feel like she had accomplished something. On the other hand, Hermione simply felt like she was committing a crime not only against the person, but herself too. As a Gryffindor she had to be brave enough to withstand pain and hurt without retaliating just for the sake of it. What would be the point when she would only feel immense guilt for her violent actions?
“Don’t cry,” Bellatrix said, her cheeks flushing as though she were embarrassed by the fact that she was witnessing Hermione breakdown from her position several metres away. “Please, don’t. The truth is that the Dark Lord said I should torture you for information, but from the moment I first met you I realised you would give nothing away, no matter what I did to you. I was only ever torturing you for my own amusement, until you started getting under my skin. And then I became angry and... and so much more.”
“What... what do you mean?” Hermione asked, her voice trembling.
“I care about you. I think about you all the bloody time. I don’t want to, but I do,” Bellatrix sighed, shutting her eyes briefly, and rubbing her forehead as though she had a headache. “Just please, believe me when I say I’m on your side now. Not... not the Order’s or even the Dark Lord’s... just yours.”
“You expect me to believe you after what you did to me?” Hermione asked, wrenching up her coat sleeve and thrusting it towards Bellatrix, not caring that her wand now pointing away from the other witch. “You basically tattooed Mudblood onto my arm. It’s scarred.” She had tried desperately to make the inscription fade, but no healing spell had fixed it yet. Hermione assumed that Dark magic had been used to cause it, meaning that there was either no way of healing it or if there was, it would be a very specific way that she had yet to learn.
“I had to act that way in front of the others, but I told you at the time to trust me. Remember? And that’ll... that’ll heal though,” Bellatrix insisted, inclining her head towards Hermione’s arm. “If you give me back Narcissa’s wand then I will rectify the...”
“I’m not a fool!” Hermione interrupted, not believing Bellatrix. “The moment I give you back the wand you’ll curse me like the last time we met. There’s no way I would trust you after what you did. You went too far, Bellatrix.”
“Admittedly, I may have slightly overdone it...” Bellatrix said, her voice trailing off.
Her words would have been laughable if the pain Hermione had been subjected to hadn’t been so fresh in her mind, but as it was, she couldn’t bring herself to even give a sarcastic smile. Instead, she said seriously, her voice filled with pain, “You’re so messed up. I... I don’t even know what to say to you.”
“You don’t understand,” Bellatrix said, and she was almost, almost pleading. “I wasn’t going to hurt you, Hermione. I was going to choose the right moment when not everyone’s eyes were on us, perhaps send them down to the cellar to interrogate Potter and Weasley, and Disapparate with you to my home to keep you safe. Then I’d return to Malfoy Manor and feign that you had grasped my wand meaning I lost you.”
“And how exactly were you going to have claimed to have gotten back to Malfoy Manor and make it seem even half true?” Hermione said, thinking Bellatrix’s supposed plan entirely ridiculous. It didn’t even make sense.
Bellatrix shrugged. “I was going to summon Lemmy and return with no wand. I’d have trusted you with my wand, you know.”
“And what about Harry and Ron?” Hermione asked, dreading the answer but needing to hear it for herself anyway.
“They weren’t my concern,” Bellatrix admitted. “I didn’t... I didn’t have much time to figure out what to do. I just didn’t want anything to happen to you. And then they had to go and ruin my entire plan by interfering to save you when I would have kept you safe! By the time the Dark Lord had arrived after we summoned him, you would have been safely back in my home and I would have returned to give the Dark Lord what he truly wanted. He wouldn’t have cared about you, as long as he had Potter.”
Hermione shook her head in disbelief. “You didn’t think I might have a slight problem with the fact that you had just offered up my two best friends to Vol-”
“Don’t!” Bellatrix shrieked. “Don’t say his name!”
Fortunately, Hermione stopped herself. Her heart racing, she waited a moment, sobered by the mistake she had almost made. Had she gone and said the entire name, there was no doubt in her mind that they would be dead. Even Bellatrix wouldn’t have been able to explain why she was in her house with one of Undesirable Number One’s best friends; a Mudblood no less. Whether or not she had claimed to intend to take her to Malfoy Manor, there would have been too many questions asked of her. It was just lucky that Bellatrix had been paying enough attention to stop her from making such a dire mistake. No doubt her correction was motivated by entirely selfish reasons, but still, at least she had been on the ball enough to prevent it.
“Accident,” Hermione mumbled, cheeks flushing at her error. She felt like an idiot for letting her anger get the better of her. Out of herself, Harry and Ron, she was supposed to be the calm and reasonable one of the group. Compose yourself and think clearly, Hermione.
“I didn’t think about how you would react,” Bellatrix said, no mocking tone in her voice, no look of amusement. If anything, she just looked terrified. “I only thought about keeping you safe.”
“Why?” Hermione asked.
“Semper Amor,” Bellatrix whispered. “Remember?”
“I’m surprised you do,” Hermione shot back, unable to help herself. “I’m just a Mudblood, a Mudbaby, a Mudwhore, remember that? I haven’t forgotten the things you’ve done to me. Just because I’ve been mature enough to forget about them for the moment whilst there are more important issues to deal with, it doesn’t mean I’m ok with the way I have been treated by you.” Tell the truth, she thought. Don’t keep trying to worm your way out of everything you have said and done to me!
“I’m not denying that I think of you that way,” Bellatrix said, appearing to be choosing her words carefully, as though she didn’t want to lie, but she didn’t want to admit the whole truth either. “But now, I think of you as my little Mudblood, or whatever you want to call yourself.”
“I want to call myself Hermione,” she said harshly.
“Then I won’t call you Mudblood anymore,” Bellatrix offered.
Hermione shook her head. “You don’t get it, do you? It’s not the word that offends me; it’s the connotations behind it!”
“I was brought up to think that it was ok to think that way; to believe that as a pure-blood I’m superior. It’s what pure-bloods are taught,” Bellatrix said in an attempt to reason.
“Not always,” Hermione disagreed. “The Weasley’s don’t think like that. Ron has never believed himself to be superior to me. He’s always accepted me into his life despite me being a Muggle-born.”
The fact he had disliked her upon first meeting her was irrelevant; that was nothing to do with her blood status after all, but more the fact that she was an irritating eleven year old at best. She felt a pang in her chest as Ron’s face came to the forefront of her mind. If he knew that she was talking to Bellatrix like this, he would be livid. And jealous too, probably. Her cheeks reddened deeper as she thought of what they had shared, and the fact that she was now longing for Bellatrix in a way that she had never longed for him. She had once been extremely attracted to him, of course, but Bellatrix was different. She was always in her sodding dreams, preventing her from getting a decent night’s sleep. A beautiful nightmare.
Her thoughts must have shown on her face, because Bellatrix called her on her declaration, saying suspiciously, “What do you mean ‘accepted’ you?”
Hermione’s avoided Bellatrix’s eye. “That doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me,” Bellatrix said stubbornly. “What exactly is the Weasley boy to you? Is he your boyfriend?”
“No,” Hermione denied, and then deciding to be honest and relishing the fact that it would probably antagonise Bellatrix, she added, “But he could be if I wanted him to be.”
Hermione watched as outwardly, Bellatrix began to seethe. She gritted her teeth together and her eyes darkened, her face seeming to transform before Hermione’s eyes. Hermione’s intention to wind her up had evidently worked, because she looked utterly furious and as though any moment now she was going to attack Hermione. It was most likely a jealous rage, but a little bit of Hermione couldn’t help wondering if she was angry at the idea of a pure-blood wanting to be with a Muggle-born. Even if that was the way she felt about Hermione, it was more than obvious that it was a feeling within herself that she despised and didn’t want to exist.
Realising that she shouldn’t aggravate Bellatrix any further, Hermione added, “I don’t want to be with him; I’m just saying that if I did want to, he would want me too. I was just... well I was just highlighting that not all pure-bloods are brought up to hate Muggle-borns.”
“Some are,” Bellatrix countered, her voice only shaking slightly with anger as she visibly tried to calm herself down, taking deep breaths and clenching her fists to stop them trembling. “I was.”
“I know. But you don’t have to think that way anymore. Don’t you want to change?” Hermione said desperately, hoping that Bellatrix would agree on some level at the very least.
“The entire concept of Semper Amor and it happening between a Pure-blood and a Muggle-born is encouraging me to... rethink my views,” Bellatrix said reluctantly, beginning to control her rage. “If it can exist between two different kinds of blood, then it makes me doubt everything I have ever been taught.”
Hermione raised her eyes disbelievingly. “Really?”
“I know that will be hard for you to understand. But I have been trying to figure out myself what is going on in my own head, and why I am so determined to betray the Master I have served ever since I was a young girl. And I will, Hermione. I know you don’t believe me, but I’ve spoken to Narcissa, and I am prepared to.” Hermione opened her mouth to interject, but Bellatrix held up her hand. “Let me finish. I know you will want to see evidence before you believe me, and I am fully prepared to provide that somehow.”
“What’s the catch?” Hermione asked suspiciously.
“There is no catch,” Bellatrix said firmly. “All I ask is that when you decide to inform the others of this that you agree to help my sister and nephew too. They don’t deserve to be locked away; they’re all but held under duress.”
Hermione groaned internally. As if matters weren’t complicated enough, she would have to consider what happened to Narcissa and Draco Malfoy too. “I can’t guarantee anything, even if I wanted to believe you,” she informed Bellatrix.
“Try,” Bellatrix said. “Because you and I both know that’s the only way this will happen.”
“I don’t even know if I want this to happen,” Hermione said, voicing her greatest fear. “You abducted me Bellatrix, kept me as your prisoner. You did things to me that... that some people would never be able to forgive.”
“Are you one of those people?” Bellatrix asked straight to the point. “If you can’t forgive me then this whole conversation is pointless.”
“I’m not saying that I... that I hate you for it or can’t forgive you, but you have to prove to me you’ve changed. Then I’ll forgive you.”
“I see.”
Stepping forward to move closer to Bellatrix, Hermione made a decision. “If you prove to me your sincerity, then I will do everything in my power to make the others see that you’ve changed,” Hermione promised. “And in case you haven’t noticed, I can be pretty persuasive when I want to be.”
Bellatrix gave a tiny smile that made Hermione’s heart flutter despite her anger. “I’m aware of that.”
Hermione sighed. Remembering that she had been meaning to ask Bellatrix about what happened after she had left Bellatrix’s manor after being released, she said questioningly “Before... I’d imagine that He was enraged after I left your manor?”
“The Dark Lord, you mean?” Bellatrix asked, and at Hermione’s nod of confirmation, she added with a haunted look in her eyes, “He performed the Cruciatus Curse on me. I’ve never... well I’ve never been tortured by him before. And aside from Potter’s weak attempt at using the Curse on me or when it rebounded on me when I tried to use it against you, I’ve never had that done to me. It was... it was horrendous. And before you bring it up again, I know I performed it on you at the Manor but Lucius would have suspected something was wrong if I hadn’t. It had to be done but I am sorry about that.”
Although she pitied Bellatrix, Hermione had suffered too much to provide her with any real sympathy or to readily accept her apology. She wasn’t glad about what had happened to her, but she was satisfied that the Death Eater was now aware of exactly what she had been putting people through every time that she cast the Curse. What she has put me through. So for now, Hermione would allow her to suffer in silence, because there were more important things to deal with than Bellatrix’s first true experience of the Cruciatus Curse.
Realising that time was getting on, Hermione knew she had to leave. She had to work out what to say to Harry and Ron and make them understand that there was a chance Bellatrix was genuine. Although she herself didn’t entirely believe her at the moment, if Bellatrix meant what she said about proving herself then that would have to suffice. There was always the possibility that she was lying (Snape came to mind) but it was a risk that Hermione would have to take. As long as she didn’t put Bellatrix in the know about anything she could possibly use against them, then things should be ok.
“I’m going to have to go,” Hermione said.
Bellatrix nodded. “Can I... can I have the wand back before you go?” Seeing Hermione’s torn reaction she added, “Look at it this way, if I curse you now, you know that I’m a liar.”
“Fair point,” Hermione conceded, and she handed over Narcissa’s wand. If Bellatrix betrayed her after all then her life may be over, but at least she’d know the truth. Except Bellatrix didn’t. Instead, she slowly reached out and grasped Hermione’s arm, pulling up her sleeve. Tracing the wand over the word engraved into Hermione’s arm, she muttered under her breath, until finally, the scar began to fade. She continued to do so until there was nothing left but untarnished, renewed skin, and she gently ran her fingers over the healed area before releasing Hermione, the task complete.
“Told you I could heal you, little babe,” Bellatrix said, almost as though she was expecting praise.
“Don’t expect me to say thank you,” Hermione said coldly, though secretly she was heartened by Bellatrix’s latest nickname for her. A definite improvement on Mudblood. “It’s no less than I deserve.”
Bellatrix looked angry for a moment at the lack of thanks, but she apparently managed to get her feelings under control as she did not respond. Allowing her expression to go without comment, Hermione gazed back, soon realising that staying any longer would achieve nothing. Moving slowly, she walked towards the front door, ready to go outside to Disapparate back to Shell Cottage to speak to Ron and Harry.
“Wait,” Bellatrix said, almost inaudibly.
Turning around, Hermione faced the raven haired woman once again. “What is it?” she said tiredly.
“I...” Bellatrix looked at her expectantly.
“What?” Hermione repeated.
Seeming to have an internal debate with herself, eventually, Bellatrix stepped forward. Grasping her face, she drew their mouths together in a searing kiss, working her tongue inside of Hermione’s mouth to intensify it. As before, the effects of Semper Amor caused Hermione to feel as though she were bound to Bellatrix, and the feeling was warmly welcome as expected. Unable to stop herself from responding, (and if she was honest, even considering her anger; she really didn’t want to resist) Hermione moaned against the other woman as she pressed harder, deeper. The unhappy feeling within her diminished slightly, and replaced by what felt like hope and optimism.
A couple of minutes, however, and Hermione knew that she really did have to go. Reluctantly, she pulled away. “I really can’t stay any longer,” she said regretfully.
“Before you go, just answer me this. They didn’t touch you, did they?” Bellatrix said, and there was a glint of fire in her eyes.
“The Snatchers, you mean?” Hermione guessed.
Bellatrix nodded. “Yes. I mean... they didn’t do anything inappropriate?”
“Not really. Although Greyback did express a desire to bite me,” Hermione said, shuddering. Then, wondering why Bellatrix wanted to know, she frowned curiously. She had a strange feeling that Bellatrix had an ulterior motive, and so she watched her, waiting for her to reveal her reasons.
Bellatrix didn’t disappoint. She gave a low growl, and dug her nails into the small of Hermione’s back. “You don’t need to worry, anyhow. I took care of that foul, disgusting animal.”
Hermione started, “What do you mean you-”
“I didn’t kill him unfortunately,” Bellatrix interrupted. “Don’t worry; just tortured him, but no matter, there will be time in the future for that.”
Hermione didn’t even have the energy to form a reply to such a confession, and she didn’t have the time to explain exactly why Bellatrix didn’t need to kill him. Revenge was sweet, yes, but that didn’t mean it was the right thing to do. Besides, it wasn’t as if Greyback had actually managed to hurt her; he hadn’t had the chance and so there was no need to punish him with death. Bellatrix was right; he was foul and disgusting, but that didn’t mean it was right to murder him. She’d be happy if he was just locked in Azkaban until the day he died. Besides, it was sort of hypocritical considering what Bellatrix had subjected her to, and the far worse damage she had done.
Changing the subject, Hermione told Bellatrix, “I’ll... I’ll contact you when I’ve spoken to Harry and Ron or if you need to see me again then you contact me.” It was time for her to leave; she had been far too long already.
Nodding her understanding, Bellatrix silently walked with her out of the house, and kept walking until they had reached beyond the wards. Having a great deal more clarity about the situation and enchanted with the hope that Bellatrix actually might be serious, Hermione was far more optimistic than she had been upon her arrival. There was still a chance for them. Maybe.
The last thing that Hermione saw before she Disapparated was Bellatrix’s dark orbs gazing at her, even as she swirled into a mass of blurry colours. Beautiful. Insane, but beautiful.
**
(( CLICK HERE for part 17 ))
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), (14), (15)
I really struggled to get this chapter exactly how I wanted it, and it's slightly lengthier than planned, mainly due to some last minute entire blocks of text I deleted and rewrote. Also, for clarification's sake, the format of the Galleon in this part and the last is TIME then DATE/MONTH/YEAR. Anyway... hope you enjoy the latest update!
**
I think I'll change my ways
So all your words get noticed
Tomorrow's a brand new day
Forty Foot Echo, Brand New Day**
16.
True to her word, Hermione had not gone to see Bellatrix the next day, ignoring the burning coin and placing it into her beaded bag until the time of the offered meeting had passed. She spent the coming weeks recuperating from the experience with Harry and Ron, mulling over the information they had learned regarding wands from Ollivander (who had also been rescued from Malfoy Manor, along with Luna) and speaking to Griphook about Gringotts. Even after making a deal to give him the sword of Gryffindor, albeit after they had used it to defeat the Horcruxes, Hermione had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, worried that their eventual plan to turn her into Bellatrix was going to go horribly wrong.
Her nerves weren’t helped by the fact that Fleur and Bill kept fussing around, making it impossible for her to think half of the time. Although she appreciated the additional company, she really could have done with a great deal more peace than she was currently granted in order to consider how she felt towards Bellatrix after the events at Malfoy Manor, and whether Bellatrix would attempt to contact her again. She couldn’t see how Bellatrix could possibly intend on aiding the Order after her behaviour, but then she still didn’t understand what the whispered words were about. It was for this reason that eventually, Hermione came to accept that the only way she would finally have clarity would be to meet with Bellatrix once more.
It was in fact nearly a month after the original time and date offered by Bellatrix that the Galleon burned again, and a second meeting was offered, now reading:
04.00. 02.04.98
Logically, Hermione assumed this would mean four a.m. considering that she was using a twenty-four hour clock. Apparently, despite her asking Bellatrix to choose daylight hours, the witch had completely ignored her request. Typical. Nevertheless, it probably wouldn’t make too much of a difference now that they were staying with Bill and Fleur and there was immense protection surrounding Shell Cottage, as everyone slept at night and there was no necessity for lookouts as there had been when it was just Harry, Ron and Hermione.
Hermione was determined not to spend the rest of her life dreaming of Bellatrix, and aching within her heart to such an extent that she couldn’t make sense of her own thoughts in the way that she could before. No longer could she easily distinguish between right and wrong, the light and the dark. She accepted that Semper Amor did exist between them, for as the days went on she steadily felt emotionally worse. However, she refused to allow the ancient magical love to become a factor in the war against Voldemort. Bellatrix would have to pledge her loyalty one way or the other, and if she did promise to help battle against Voldemort then Hermione wasn’t going to just accept it at face value; she would request solid proof of some sort.
I’ll play to win, she vowed.
Although she intended to meet Bellatrix, Hermione was more anxious than she had thought possible. Her fear mainly stemmed from the fact that she no longer had her own wand and was forced to currently use Bellatrix’s. As she had not won it from the talented witch it failed to work in the way that it should for her, which did complicate matters if she needed to defend herself against Bellatrix. There was always the possibility of stealing Draco’s which Harry was currently in possession of, but Bellatrix was still likely to ask for her wand to be returned from Hermione. Whether Voldemort was aware that they had stolen several wands from his Death Eaters Hermione couldn’t say for certain, but she was pretty sure that had he made this unpleasant discovery he would be even more furious.
Hermione had decided that she would have to go through with the meeting offered, despite the risks. Maybe she would be forced to attempt to kill Bellatrix, or else harm her if the need arose for her to escape. Whatever happened, she considered the rage she held inside to be so strong at the moment that it would sufficient enough to defend herself successfully at the very least. Righteous anger was nothing compared to how she felt now, for Dobby, for Harry, for Ron and every other person that had been affected by Voldemort, his followers and every evil belief that they stood for.
**
March 1998
“Cissy,” Bellatrix whispered, dragging her sister through the door of her own bedroom, and shutting it behind them. Lucius and Draco were currently outside in the courtyard, no one else was in the Manor (including the Dark Lord who was off on an unknown, private mission) and this was probably the best opportunity Bellatrix was going to get to speak to Narcissa privately. “I need to borrow your wand tomorrow.”
“My... my wand?” Narcissa stuttered, looking confused. “Why?”
“There’s something I need to do,” Bellatrix said urgently, eyes large and wide, her hands holding onto Narcissa’s. “Please.”
“The Dark Lord has forbidden us to leave here,” Narcissa hissed in disbelief. “You can’t even go to your own home at the moment, Bella! If the Dark Lord finds out then he’ll kill you.”
Bellatrix shook her head. “I’ll be careful. But I don’t have a wand, and I need one. Please, trust me.”
Narcissa looked horrified. “What are you going to do? You’re not thinking of going after Potter yourself, are you? We have no idea where he is and even if we did, it’s unlikely you could take him on alone!”
Bellatrix blew out a breath in annoyance. “This is nothing to do with Potter! Well, not directly, anyway.”
She meant what she said. The skirmish at her sister’s manor had led Bellatrix to realise that she had to think about what she was doing. Now that she had seen for herself exactly how Potter fought and the support he had, she realised that this was no longer just a child they were up against. It scared her, to wonder of Potter’s powers. At the Ministry nearly two years previously she had not had the opportunity to witness his talents due to her Lord’s possession of her, and she had always assumed it was merely down to Dumbledore. Again, on the night that Dumbledore died there had not been the opportunity for a proper, thorough duel, and at Malfoy Manor too, though admittedly no one but a talented wizard could have got themselves out of that, even considering the help from the elf.
“Then what is it?” Narcissa asked, frowning. She searched Bellatrix’s face in an attempt to discover what was going on, and Bellatrix quickly schooled her features into a picture of blankness.
“I can’t tell you,” she said ominously. “If the Dark Lord were to penetrate your mind...you... well you just have to trust me.”
“Bellatrix, I am more than accomplished in the art of Occlumency,” Narcissa said, firmly gripping her hand now. “You cannot expect me to hand over to you the only weapon of defence that my family currently have for an unknown reason that may only result in us getting into an even more perilous position than we already are; which as you know, is saying something!”
Bellatrix sighed. Apparently, Narcissa was not going to give up her wand without a fight or without further information. “Your skills in Occlumency do not equal the Dark Lord’s in the area of Legilimency, Cissy.”
“When it comes to protecting my family I will more than match the Dark Lord,” Narcissa sneered, and there was a sudden fierceness in her eyes that Bellatrix was sure she had never borne witness to before. Despite this, she could not bring herself to be angry with her sister, for she was smart enough to realise that although Narcissa loved her family and she would go to great lengths to protect Draco, she still loved and cared for Bellatrix herself at the same time. Sometimes, it made Bellatrix wonder if Narcissa was just as insane as she herself was.
“I... I believe that the Dark Lord has reason to fear Potter, now more than ever. ” Bellatrix said, feeling disgusting for her betrayal, but continuing all the same. She would allow herself to because of Semper Amor, even if she couldn’t tell her sister about her darling little Mudblood yet. To carry out her intentions she would tell Narcissa as much information as she felt she could, (and the little she knew) but without risking too much and putting her sister in jeopardy. “I do not believe he has been simply hiding all of these months; I think he has been doing something to vanquish the Dark Lord.” She paused, considering her next words. “It may be time for us to... re-evaluate our priorities.”
“You have always claimed to be faithful to the Dark Lord, you have never once wavered in your loyalty towards him,” Narcissa said suspiciously.
“I have a feeling that this time his defeat may be more permanent,” Bellatrix confided, and she held up a hand to stop Narcissa interrupting. She didn’t know exactly what had been happening, but from what she had seen inside of Hermione’s head, there was reason to fear Potter. She hadn’t tried hard enough to break through the Occlumency barriers that her little one raised to prevent her finding out precisely what she was doing with Ron and Harry, because she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know. Moreover, she didn’t want the younger witch to realise that she was attempting to penetrate her mind and to consequently change her plans. “Do not ask me why I believe this, because it’s complicated. But needless to say, I do not want to spend the rest of my life in Azkaban for a cause which has proved fruitless.”
Narcissa gaped. “What you’re saying is... you are turning on... our Lord?”
Bellatrix swallowed. “No. Not in here, where it counts” she said, raising a hand to her heart, and forcing herself to face Narcissa directly. Even if she did betray her Lord, she wouldn’t be able to stop believing in him with just a flick of her wand. It was too complicated, longwinded and risky to explain for the moment though, and so Bellatrix simply said, “But I love you, Cissy. And Draco, I suppose. Lucius can go and fuck himself, but know that from now on, my concern is for you. Can you accept that?”
“No, because there’s something you’re not telling me, and you still haven’t answered my question,” Narcissa said, although her tone was softer after Bellatrix’s admission. “Why do you need my wand?”
"If I told you that I was going to meet someone who can give us help to give us second chance when this is over, would that be sufficient?” Bellatrix asked hopefully.
“It would if you weren’t you,” Narcissa sighed. “What happened to the Bellatrix who loved the insanity of war and bloodshed? Who quite happily rejects our own sister for falling in love and feels no guilt over it, as I do? How can you proclaim to love me when you so hate Andromeda?”
Love, Bellatrix thought, focusing only on that one word. Now she was the one in love. A ridiculous, abysmal, horrendous love that entrapped her so completely that she couldn’t function. Her dreams of bloodlust and service to the Dark Lord had been absent for a while now, and after he performed the Cruciatus Curse on her for the first time, she realised that even if he did win, she would always be nothing to him. The power would always be his and never hers. With Hermione though, her darling Mudblood, she could have all she had ever wanted. Control. Domination. She would be the Mistress in charge, finally.
But she couldn’t tell Narcissa that. Not yet. “That Bellatrix doesn’t exist anymore,” she said as a substitute for the truth. “My priorities have changed.” She drew her hands from Narcissa’s and for the first time in almost eighteen years, she warmly enveloped her into a hug.
Apparently she had made the right decision, for Narcissa pulled away and said reluctantly, “Fine. Take the wand.”
Inwardly, Bellatrix cheered silently. It was debatable whether Hermione would meet her considering what had just happened, but if that was the case then Bellatrix would allow her time to calm down before suggesting another. Perhaps another month and she would be ready for them to meet once more. Bellatrix was sure that she could persuade Narcissa to give up her wand for a second occasion should she say the right thing and catch her in a good mood. It was a relief, really, after facing the Dark Lord’s fury to know that things might not always have to be this way. One day, she could have all the power she had ever desired, as long as she played her cards right.
**
Sneaking out of Shell Cottage was easier than Hermione imagined it to be. Harry had slept deeply (no doubt helped by the Firewhiskey Hermione had poured both him and Ron before bed) and Draco’s wand was at his side, lying on the cabinet. As quietly as possible, Hermione had grasped the wand and snuck out of the cottage, Disapparating the second that she exited the wards that surrounded the property. She didn’t want to hang around and risk someone getting up and seeing her wandering outside, especially with no valid reason.
This time when she arrived at Bellatrix’s home, Hermione didn’t want to enter in the same fashion. Bellatrix would be on her guard and so it was pointless to try and sneak into the home; on this occasion there would either be greater protection in place or Bellatrix would be expecting her to try a more convoluted means of confronting her. For this reason, Hermione simply knocked the front door not even wearing the Invisibility Cloak, and waited for Bellatrix to open it.
The instance that the door clicked open, Hermione pushed her way inside and with a wave of her wand, rendered Bellatrix incapable of moving. The Body-Bind Curse always was a useful spell to know. Shutting the front door, Hermione took the wand that Bellatrix held in her hand from her, and then moving backwards, she stated without even a greeting, “I’m going to unfreeze you now, ok? But don’t even think about trying to hurt me, because I won’t hesitate to kill you.”
Hermione gave Bellatrix a few seconds to take in the instructions, before she flicked her wand once more, and Bellatrix stumbled forward, getting used to movement again. She looked shocked that Hermione had attempted such a curse and had disarmed her of her wand, perhaps even seeming slightly afraid judging by the way her pupils were dilated.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Bellatrix protested. “I just wanted to talk to you, like we planned.”
Hermione laughed wryly, pointing her wand at Bellatrix. “Like we planned before you killed Dobby, you mean?”
“Dobby?” Bellatrix frowned. She looked confused. “You mean that demented elf who used to belong to Narcissa? The one that turned up her manor the other day?”
“Oh but of course, you’re not going to care about an elf, are you?!” Hermione exclaimed, mocking Bellatrix. “Why bother to learn his name even before you stuck a knife in his chest you vindictive, evil BITCH!”
Bellatrix stared at Hermione, eyes wide. She didn’t appear to believe what she was hearing, but there was no sudden flash of anger, just an expression of shock. Her hair was wild and untamed, falling around her face, and she looked tired, prominent bags under her eyes. “I didn’t... what?”
“You threw the knife when Dobby Disapparated with us,” Hermione snapped. “And now he’s dead! Because of you.”
“I...” Bellatrix paused. “That wasn’t my intention; I was just frustrated at the fact that you were leaving.”
“Escaping, more like!” Hermione thundered. “How would you feel if it was your elf, Bellatrix? If someone had killed Lemmy?!”
Bellatrix cleared her throat. “Well... I would be a little annoyed, yes.”
“That’s it? You would be ‘a little annoyed’ and nothing else? I thought you cared about Lemmy? She’s the one creature in this world that you don’t actually torture, anyhow!”
“Of course I care about Lemmy, but she’s still just a sodding elf! It’s not really about that though, is it? It’s about the fact I tortured you!” Bellatrix said, and Hermione could see in her expression that she was becoming riled.
“Partly, but it’s also because YOU KILLED DOBBY!” Hermione yelled. Her voice breaking, she added, “Do you have any idea how much he meant to us? We loved him.”
Bellatrix rolled her eyes. It was obvious to Hermione that despite the fact she had shown herself to be capable of love, she still wasn’t able to entirely comprehend that others felt it. She was so consumed in her own little bubble that she failed to realise that her actions had consequences for others, and that a moment’s irrationality on her part could lead to a lifetime of heartache for another. Nevertheless, there was no way that Hermione would be able to teach her how to empathise for others in a single day, for it was something that she would have to learn gradually over time.
“Stop shouting. I thought you came here so that we could have a conversation,” Bellatrix said, sounding irritated.
Hermione ignored her, and decided at the very least she was determined to make Bellatrix understand that she’d done something entirely terrible and hideous. “What if it had been me, Bellatrix? What if you had killed me?”
“I didn’t though,” Bellatrix said pointedly, shrugging her shoulders. “What’s the point in discussing something that didn’t happen?”
Hermione stared, holding her wand out and shaking her head, unable to speak. She truly didn’t have a clue what on earth was going through Bellatrix’s head half of the time. Most people would have apologised and begged for forgiveness, but she was stood as still as the statue of Muggles at the feet of wizards and witches that currently occupied the Ministry of Magic. There was nothing from her, no expression on her face, no tears or pleading words. It sickened Hermione inside, twisting at her stomach. How had she ever fallen in everlasting love with someone like the woman before her?
She wanted to scream and shake Bellatrix to make her understand exactly what she had done. She didn’t seem to comprehend the fact that a few moments of pleasure or venting anger on her part could result in an individual's suffering. And Hermione wasn’t even bringing herself into the equation; she was wondering about the rash, impulsive decisions that Bellatrix had likely taken over the years when inflicting the Cruciatus Curse or similar pain-inducing curses on her poor unsuspecting victims. She just didn’t think about the damage she had caused for she was too selfish.
Bellatrix didn’t move for a few seconds longer, and stood surveying Hermione. “Please, lower your wand. I do not want to fight, merely to talk.”
Hermione, who hadn’t thought to check Bellatrix’s person before unfreezing her (and considering the bond between them it wouldn’t exactly have been a comfortable experience anyway) was more than wary. “How do I know that you’re not going to have another knife stuffed inside your dress, ready to launch at me?”
“Because I don’t want to kill you,” Bellatrix said quietly. “And you’ve taken my wand... Narcissa’s wand, I mean, although you have mine too, I assume?”
“This wand is Draco’s,” Hermione said, and she lowered her wand slightly. “And yes, we have your wand, but I didn’t think it was a good idea to bring it tonight as it probably wouldn’t work too well against its’ actual owner. Narcissa allowed you to borrow her wand?”
“Smart move,” Bellatrix said, and it almost sounded like she was praising her. “Yes, I loaned Narcissa’s wand. Considering it is the only wand our family has at the moment, she was extremely reluctant to give it to me. I don’t suppose you have my broomstick with you though, do you?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Hermione said in disbelief unable to comprehend why Bellatrix would think that now was the right time to bring up the subject. “I don’t even have your broomstick myself anymore. When the Snatchers brought us to you it was left inside our tent, which we also haven’t been able to recover through fear of ending up caught by your stupid Lord.”
Bellatrix flinched, but otherwise remained silent.
“You’re not defending him?” Hermione continued, ranting on. She knew she should stop provoking Bellatrix but she was furious with the older witch for so many things that she just couldn’t stop herself. “What, is this a ploy to make me believe that you’re on our side now?”
There was something that was different about Bellatrix, but Hermione couldn’t quite figure out what it was. She seemed less abrasive for definite, but there was something more than that. Has she been anyone but the insane Death Eater Hermione knew her to be, she would say that Bellatrix seemed softer. No though, that wasn’t quite it. There was weariness within Bellatrix that Hermione had never thought to be possible. She was always so up, hyper, or contrary to that, quiet or childish. Here, she wasn’t any of these things, she was just so... normal. Unfeeling and quiet, but normal.
“So you’re angry at me because of the elf?” Bellatrix said finally, ignoring Hermione’s question and answering with one of her own.
“Dobby. His name was Dobby,” Hermione spat. “At least have the decency to speak his name!”
“Fine, Dobby,” Bellatrix said dismissively. And then, in a gentler voice she added, “Is that why you’re furious? Because I have a feeling it’s more than that. I tortured you...”
“Yes,” Hermione said, trying not to allow her emotions to override her and to stay calm, though she knew it was basically a futile attempt on her part. “And also because, oh, I don’t know, after torturing me for information you decided to summon Him!”
“I’ve tortured you before,” Bellatrix stated, truthfully, disregarding Hermione’s last issue.
“Not since you accepted the connection between us,” Hermione countered, unable to speak the words Semper Amor aloud. “When you first captured me, it was because you hated me and everything I stood for. Now though, you’re supposed to love me whether you want to or not, at least enough not to hurt me the way you did. But maybe you just like to torture for fun! Maybe you don’t actually care about who wins the war, this is just one giant mindfuck of a game to you.”
Bellatrix started, remaining silent. Her dark eyes remained focused on Hermione, but she didn’t move a single muscle.
“When I started really caring about you, I thought maybe you cared about me too. I was so wrong,” Hermione continued, becoming even more frustrated. She wiped away the tears that had began leaking out of her eyes, knowing that she was crying through anger and wishing that she had the guts to just throw the Cruciatus Curse at Bellatrix to see if revenge made her feel better.
Deep down, she knew that it wouldn’t. Hermione was not the sort of person who could turn her pain onto others, or at least, not physically. Bellatrix was of a different mould to her; she could use the Dark Arts against others and feel like she had accomplished something. On the other hand, Hermione simply felt like she was committing a crime not only against the person, but herself too. As a Gryffindor she had to be brave enough to withstand pain and hurt without retaliating just for the sake of it. What would be the point when she would only feel immense guilt for her violent actions?
“Don’t cry,” Bellatrix said, her cheeks flushing as though she were embarrassed by the fact that she was witnessing Hermione breakdown from her position several metres away. “Please, don’t. The truth is that the Dark Lord said I should torture you for information, but from the moment I first met you I realised you would give nothing away, no matter what I did to you. I was only ever torturing you for my own amusement, until you started getting under my skin. And then I became angry and... and so much more.”
“What... what do you mean?” Hermione asked, her voice trembling.
“I care about you. I think about you all the bloody time. I don’t want to, but I do,” Bellatrix sighed, shutting her eyes briefly, and rubbing her forehead as though she had a headache. “Just please, believe me when I say I’m on your side now. Not... not the Order’s or even the Dark Lord’s... just yours.”
“You expect me to believe you after what you did to me?” Hermione asked, wrenching up her coat sleeve and thrusting it towards Bellatrix, not caring that her wand now pointing away from the other witch. “You basically tattooed Mudblood onto my arm. It’s scarred.” She had tried desperately to make the inscription fade, but no healing spell had fixed it yet. Hermione assumed that Dark magic had been used to cause it, meaning that there was either no way of healing it or if there was, it would be a very specific way that she had yet to learn.
“I had to act that way in front of the others, but I told you at the time to trust me. Remember? And that’ll... that’ll heal though,” Bellatrix insisted, inclining her head towards Hermione’s arm. “If you give me back Narcissa’s wand then I will rectify the...”
“I’m not a fool!” Hermione interrupted, not believing Bellatrix. “The moment I give you back the wand you’ll curse me like the last time we met. There’s no way I would trust you after what you did. You went too far, Bellatrix.”
“Admittedly, I may have slightly overdone it...” Bellatrix said, her voice trailing off.
Her words would have been laughable if the pain Hermione had been subjected to hadn’t been so fresh in her mind, but as it was, she couldn’t bring herself to even give a sarcastic smile. Instead, she said seriously, her voice filled with pain, “You’re so messed up. I... I don’t even know what to say to you.”
“You don’t understand,” Bellatrix said, and she was almost, almost pleading. “I wasn’t going to hurt you, Hermione. I was going to choose the right moment when not everyone’s eyes were on us, perhaps send them down to the cellar to interrogate Potter and Weasley, and Disapparate with you to my home to keep you safe. Then I’d return to Malfoy Manor and feign that you had grasped my wand meaning I lost you.”
“And how exactly were you going to have claimed to have gotten back to Malfoy Manor and make it seem even half true?” Hermione said, thinking Bellatrix’s supposed plan entirely ridiculous. It didn’t even make sense.
Bellatrix shrugged. “I was going to summon Lemmy and return with no wand. I’d have trusted you with my wand, you know.”
“And what about Harry and Ron?” Hermione asked, dreading the answer but needing to hear it for herself anyway.
“They weren’t my concern,” Bellatrix admitted. “I didn’t... I didn’t have much time to figure out what to do. I just didn’t want anything to happen to you. And then they had to go and ruin my entire plan by interfering to save you when I would have kept you safe! By the time the Dark Lord had arrived after we summoned him, you would have been safely back in my home and I would have returned to give the Dark Lord what he truly wanted. He wouldn’t have cared about you, as long as he had Potter.”
Hermione shook her head in disbelief. “You didn’t think I might have a slight problem with the fact that you had just offered up my two best friends to Vol-”
“Don’t!” Bellatrix shrieked. “Don’t say his name!”
Fortunately, Hermione stopped herself. Her heart racing, she waited a moment, sobered by the mistake she had almost made. Had she gone and said the entire name, there was no doubt in her mind that they would be dead. Even Bellatrix wouldn’t have been able to explain why she was in her house with one of Undesirable Number One’s best friends; a Mudblood no less. Whether or not she had claimed to intend to take her to Malfoy Manor, there would have been too many questions asked of her. It was just lucky that Bellatrix had been paying enough attention to stop her from making such a dire mistake. No doubt her correction was motivated by entirely selfish reasons, but still, at least she had been on the ball enough to prevent it.
“Accident,” Hermione mumbled, cheeks flushing at her error. She felt like an idiot for letting her anger get the better of her. Out of herself, Harry and Ron, she was supposed to be the calm and reasonable one of the group. Compose yourself and think clearly, Hermione.
“I didn’t think about how you would react,” Bellatrix said, no mocking tone in her voice, no look of amusement. If anything, she just looked terrified. “I only thought about keeping you safe.”
“Why?” Hermione asked.
“Semper Amor,” Bellatrix whispered. “Remember?”
“I’m surprised you do,” Hermione shot back, unable to help herself. “I’m just a Mudblood, a Mudbaby, a Mudwhore, remember that? I haven’t forgotten the things you’ve done to me. Just because I’ve been mature enough to forget about them for the moment whilst there are more important issues to deal with, it doesn’t mean I’m ok with the way I have been treated by you.” Tell the truth, she thought. Don’t keep trying to worm your way out of everything you have said and done to me!
“I’m not denying that I think of you that way,” Bellatrix said, appearing to be choosing her words carefully, as though she didn’t want to lie, but she didn’t want to admit the whole truth either. “But now, I think of you as my little Mudblood, or whatever you want to call yourself.”
“I want to call myself Hermione,” she said harshly.
“Then I won’t call you Mudblood anymore,” Bellatrix offered.
Hermione shook her head. “You don’t get it, do you? It’s not the word that offends me; it’s the connotations behind it!”
“I was brought up to think that it was ok to think that way; to believe that as a pure-blood I’m superior. It’s what pure-bloods are taught,” Bellatrix said in an attempt to reason.
“Not always,” Hermione disagreed. “The Weasley’s don’t think like that. Ron has never believed himself to be superior to me. He’s always accepted me into his life despite me being a Muggle-born.”
The fact he had disliked her upon first meeting her was irrelevant; that was nothing to do with her blood status after all, but more the fact that she was an irritating eleven year old at best. She felt a pang in her chest as Ron’s face came to the forefront of her mind. If he knew that she was talking to Bellatrix like this, he would be livid. And jealous too, probably. Her cheeks reddened deeper as she thought of what they had shared, and the fact that she was now longing for Bellatrix in a way that she had never longed for him. She had once been extremely attracted to him, of course, but Bellatrix was different. She was always in her sodding dreams, preventing her from getting a decent night’s sleep. A beautiful nightmare.
Her thoughts must have shown on her face, because Bellatrix called her on her declaration, saying suspiciously, “What do you mean ‘accepted’ you?”
Hermione’s avoided Bellatrix’s eye. “That doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me,” Bellatrix said stubbornly. “What exactly is the Weasley boy to you? Is he your boyfriend?”
“No,” Hermione denied, and then deciding to be honest and relishing the fact that it would probably antagonise Bellatrix, she added, “But he could be if I wanted him to be.”
Hermione watched as outwardly, Bellatrix began to seethe. She gritted her teeth together and her eyes darkened, her face seeming to transform before Hermione’s eyes. Hermione’s intention to wind her up had evidently worked, because she looked utterly furious and as though any moment now she was going to attack Hermione. It was most likely a jealous rage, but a little bit of Hermione couldn’t help wondering if she was angry at the idea of a pure-blood wanting to be with a Muggle-born. Even if that was the way she felt about Hermione, it was more than obvious that it was a feeling within herself that she despised and didn’t want to exist.
Realising that she shouldn’t aggravate Bellatrix any further, Hermione added, “I don’t want to be with him; I’m just saying that if I did want to, he would want me too. I was just... well I was just highlighting that not all pure-bloods are brought up to hate Muggle-borns.”
“Some are,” Bellatrix countered, her voice only shaking slightly with anger as she visibly tried to calm herself down, taking deep breaths and clenching her fists to stop them trembling. “I was.”
“I know. But you don’t have to think that way anymore. Don’t you want to change?” Hermione said desperately, hoping that Bellatrix would agree on some level at the very least.
“The entire concept of Semper Amor and it happening between a Pure-blood and a Muggle-born is encouraging me to... rethink my views,” Bellatrix said reluctantly, beginning to control her rage. “If it can exist between two different kinds of blood, then it makes me doubt everything I have ever been taught.”
Hermione raised her eyes disbelievingly. “Really?”
“I know that will be hard for you to understand. But I have been trying to figure out myself what is going on in my own head, and why I am so determined to betray the Master I have served ever since I was a young girl. And I will, Hermione. I know you don’t believe me, but I’ve spoken to Narcissa, and I am prepared to.” Hermione opened her mouth to interject, but Bellatrix held up her hand. “Let me finish. I know you will want to see evidence before you believe me, and I am fully prepared to provide that somehow.”
“What’s the catch?” Hermione asked suspiciously.
“There is no catch,” Bellatrix said firmly. “All I ask is that when you decide to inform the others of this that you agree to help my sister and nephew too. They don’t deserve to be locked away; they’re all but held under duress.”
Hermione groaned internally. As if matters weren’t complicated enough, she would have to consider what happened to Narcissa and Draco Malfoy too. “I can’t guarantee anything, even if I wanted to believe you,” she informed Bellatrix.
“Try,” Bellatrix said. “Because you and I both know that’s the only way this will happen.”
“I don’t even know if I want this to happen,” Hermione said, voicing her greatest fear. “You abducted me Bellatrix, kept me as your prisoner. You did things to me that... that some people would never be able to forgive.”
“Are you one of those people?” Bellatrix asked straight to the point. “If you can’t forgive me then this whole conversation is pointless.”
“I’m not saying that I... that I hate you for it or can’t forgive you, but you have to prove to me you’ve changed. Then I’ll forgive you.”
“I see.”
Stepping forward to move closer to Bellatrix, Hermione made a decision. “If you prove to me your sincerity, then I will do everything in my power to make the others see that you’ve changed,” Hermione promised. “And in case you haven’t noticed, I can be pretty persuasive when I want to be.”
Bellatrix gave a tiny smile that made Hermione’s heart flutter despite her anger. “I’m aware of that.”
Hermione sighed. Remembering that she had been meaning to ask Bellatrix about what happened after she had left Bellatrix’s manor after being released, she said questioningly “Before... I’d imagine that He was enraged after I left your manor?”
“The Dark Lord, you mean?” Bellatrix asked, and at Hermione’s nod of confirmation, she added with a haunted look in her eyes, “He performed the Cruciatus Curse on me. I’ve never... well I’ve never been tortured by him before. And aside from Potter’s weak attempt at using the Curse on me or when it rebounded on me when I tried to use it against you, I’ve never had that done to me. It was... it was horrendous. And before you bring it up again, I know I performed it on you at the Manor but Lucius would have suspected something was wrong if I hadn’t. It had to be done but I am sorry about that.”
Although she pitied Bellatrix, Hermione had suffered too much to provide her with any real sympathy or to readily accept her apology. She wasn’t glad about what had happened to her, but she was satisfied that the Death Eater was now aware of exactly what she had been putting people through every time that she cast the Curse. What she has put me through. So for now, Hermione would allow her to suffer in silence, because there were more important things to deal with than Bellatrix’s first true experience of the Cruciatus Curse.
Realising that time was getting on, Hermione knew she had to leave. She had to work out what to say to Harry and Ron and make them understand that there was a chance Bellatrix was genuine. Although she herself didn’t entirely believe her at the moment, if Bellatrix meant what she said about proving herself then that would have to suffice. There was always the possibility that she was lying (Snape came to mind) but it was a risk that Hermione would have to take. As long as she didn’t put Bellatrix in the know about anything she could possibly use against them, then things should be ok.
“I’m going to have to go,” Hermione said.
Bellatrix nodded. “Can I... can I have the wand back before you go?” Seeing Hermione’s torn reaction she added, “Look at it this way, if I curse you now, you know that I’m a liar.”
“Fair point,” Hermione conceded, and she handed over Narcissa’s wand. If Bellatrix betrayed her after all then her life may be over, but at least she’d know the truth. Except Bellatrix didn’t. Instead, she slowly reached out and grasped Hermione’s arm, pulling up her sleeve. Tracing the wand over the word engraved into Hermione’s arm, she muttered under her breath, until finally, the scar began to fade. She continued to do so until there was nothing left but untarnished, renewed skin, and she gently ran her fingers over the healed area before releasing Hermione, the task complete.
“Told you I could heal you, little babe,” Bellatrix said, almost as though she was expecting praise.
“Don’t expect me to say thank you,” Hermione said coldly, though secretly she was heartened by Bellatrix’s latest nickname for her. A definite improvement on Mudblood. “It’s no less than I deserve.”
Bellatrix looked angry for a moment at the lack of thanks, but she apparently managed to get her feelings under control as she did not respond. Allowing her expression to go without comment, Hermione gazed back, soon realising that staying any longer would achieve nothing. Moving slowly, she walked towards the front door, ready to go outside to Disapparate back to Shell Cottage to speak to Ron and Harry.
“Wait,” Bellatrix said, almost inaudibly.
Turning around, Hermione faced the raven haired woman once again. “What is it?” she said tiredly.
“I...” Bellatrix looked at her expectantly.
“What?” Hermione repeated.
Seeming to have an internal debate with herself, eventually, Bellatrix stepped forward. Grasping her face, she drew their mouths together in a searing kiss, working her tongue inside of Hermione’s mouth to intensify it. As before, the effects of Semper Amor caused Hermione to feel as though she were bound to Bellatrix, and the feeling was warmly welcome as expected. Unable to stop herself from responding, (and if she was honest, even considering her anger; she really didn’t want to resist) Hermione moaned against the other woman as she pressed harder, deeper. The unhappy feeling within her diminished slightly, and replaced by what felt like hope and optimism.
A couple of minutes, however, and Hermione knew that she really did have to go. Reluctantly, she pulled away. “I really can’t stay any longer,” she said regretfully.
“Before you go, just answer me this. They didn’t touch you, did they?” Bellatrix said, and there was a glint of fire in her eyes.
“The Snatchers, you mean?” Hermione guessed.
Bellatrix nodded. “Yes. I mean... they didn’t do anything inappropriate?”
“Not really. Although Greyback did express a desire to bite me,” Hermione said, shuddering. Then, wondering why Bellatrix wanted to know, she frowned curiously. She had a strange feeling that Bellatrix had an ulterior motive, and so she watched her, waiting for her to reveal her reasons.
Bellatrix didn’t disappoint. She gave a low growl, and dug her nails into the small of Hermione’s back. “You don’t need to worry, anyhow. I took care of that foul, disgusting animal.”
Hermione started, “What do you mean you-”
“I didn’t kill him unfortunately,” Bellatrix interrupted. “Don’t worry; just tortured him, but no matter, there will be time in the future for that.”
Hermione didn’t even have the energy to form a reply to such a confession, and she didn’t have the time to explain exactly why Bellatrix didn’t need to kill him. Revenge was sweet, yes, but that didn’t mean it was the right thing to do. Besides, it wasn’t as if Greyback had actually managed to hurt her; he hadn’t had the chance and so there was no need to punish him with death. Bellatrix was right; he was foul and disgusting, but that didn’t mean it was right to murder him. She’d be happy if he was just locked in Azkaban until the day he died. Besides, it was sort of hypocritical considering what Bellatrix had subjected her to, and the far worse damage she had done.
Changing the subject, Hermione told Bellatrix, “I’ll... I’ll contact you when I’ve spoken to Harry and Ron or if you need to see me again then you contact me.” It was time for her to leave; she had been far too long already.
Nodding her understanding, Bellatrix silently walked with her out of the house, and kept walking until they had reached beyond the wards. Having a great deal more clarity about the situation and enchanted with the hope that Bellatrix actually might be serious, Hermione was far more optimistic than she had been upon her arrival. There was still a chance for them. Maybe.
The last thing that Hermione saw before she Disapparated was Bellatrix’s dark orbs gazing at her, even as she swirled into a mass of blurry colours. Beautiful. Insane, but beautiful.
**
(( CLICK HERE for part 17 ))