FIC: Impossible (20/30)
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), (16), (17), (18), (19)
**
Before the doors close
And it comes to an endWith you by my side I will fight and defend
Avril Lavigne, Keep Holding On
**
20.
The Battle gradually moved from outside and back into the Great Hall, with Hermione, Bellatrix and Neville running as fast as possible. Eventually Neville was separated from them, and left alone, Hermione kept an eye out for Rodolphus disguised as Bellatrix. She had unconsciously decided from the moment that Rodolphus had taken the Polyjuice Potion that he was going to be her target; now that Harry was alive (and though she hadn’t seen him, she knew he was somewhere, hidden under his Invisibility Cloak...) Voldemort was his to defeat, and Ron was most likely going after Rookwood, who they suspected had caused the blast that killed Fred.
In Hermione’s search for Rodolphus she had lost sight of Bellatrix, and attempting to ignore the worried pang in her chest by telling herself that Bellatrix was an extremely skilled witch and capable of protecting herself, she spun around, moving apprehensively closer to Voldemort. In the centre of the room, he was duelling against McGonagall, Slughorn and Kingsley, fixated on murdering them but not quite succeeding. It was then that Hermione spotted him; Rodolphus, the fake Bellatrix, had placed himself close to Voldemort, most likely in an attempt at protection. It was uncanny, Hermione thought, how much he looked like her, from the expression on his face to the mannerisms he used. Polyjuice Potion could disguise oneself, but it took real talent, Hermione grudgingly admitted, to truly become the person. It made her wonder if Rodolphus had disguised himself as Bellatrix before; it seemed to come so naturally to him that he wasn’t putting effort into anything but duelling.
As Rodolphus duelled with Ginny and Luna, Hermione stepped forward to join them. With three against one they were technically in a stronger position, but Rodolphus had unfortunately had far more practice at duelling than them. He easily matched all three, laughing cruelly each time he waved his wand in their direction. Despite this, it seemed to take several moments for Rodolphus to realise that it was Hermione he was duelling against, and it was only when he locked eyes with her that his face contorted into a snarl at his recognition of who she was. He continued to battle them, but he aimed the majority of curses towards Hermione now, targeting her because of his discovery of Bellatrix’s betrayal for her.
“You’ll never defeat me, Mudblood!” he shrieked, hatred within the eyes of Bellatrix that he had stolen so cleverly.
At once Hermione was reminded of the expressions that Bellatrix used to wear when she first abducted her, and it took all her energy to focus on continuing to deflect the curses. It was illogical for she knew that she was faced with Rodolphus, but she couldn’t look at Bellatrix’s body and summon up enough hatred to curse him. Fear began to rise within her as the curses flew at her faster than before, and desperately, she attempted to throw an Impervius Charm at Rodolphus to tie him up and prevent him from aiming curses her way. Unfortunately, Rodolphus was too quick, and with a sneer on Bellatrix’s face, he shot a Killing Curse that narrowly missed Hermione and Ginny who were launched back in the air and out of the way.
Winded, but otherwise unharmed by the move, Hermione gazed around with terror and happened to spot the real Bellatrix under her cloak. Their eyes met, and she tried to pull herself into a sitting position and gesture for Bellatrix to come towards her. It was a struggle, however, for she was still trying to catch her breath, and by the look of Ginny next to her, she was having difficulties too. Seeing a flash of light from the corner of her eye, she heard Mrs Weasley shout, “NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!” and was suddenly aware of Bellatrix running towards her, launching herself downwards and landing on top of her.
She stared at Hermione with wide, panicked eyes, and she seemingly could not talk, for seconds later she was still watching Hermione desperately, her lips unmoving.
“I’m ok,” Hermione forced out, knowing that Bellatrix needed reassurance that she was alright. Carefully, she shifted out from underneath Bellatrix, ignoring the pain in her ribs from their collision. “Don’t worry.”
“What’s going on?” Ginny said next to them, taking note of Bellatrix. “Hermione, who’s that? If my mum is fighting Bellatrix...” her voice trailed off as she nodded towards her mother, who was now engaged in a vicious duel with Bellatrix, no, Rodolphus, whilst onlookers stood all around, watching with their wands out in case a curse should accidentally fly their way and they needed to defend themselves.
“There’s no time to explain properly,” Hermione said urgently, directing her gaze at Ginny and Luna who were seated on the floor beside her. “All you need to know is that this is the real Bellatrix, and she’s on our side.”
“What?” Ginny gasped, sounding horrified. She thrust her wand outward towards them without hesitation.
Hermione mirrored Ginny’s actions. “Put down your wand, Ginny,” she said firmly. “Just believe me for the moment, because now is not the time to question me!”
Ginny remained silent, her eyes mistrusting, and gradually lowered her wand, albeit not completely. Still, Hermione chose to interpret this as her command being understood, and she watched as Bellatrix pulled her hood down, her face now visible. Everyone else was still focused on the duels and as far as Hermione was aware they didn’t notice; though if anyone had realised there were two Bellatrix’s they chose to not get involved as they didn’t want to make the wrong move, and were most likely preoccupied with keeping an eye on Voldemort anyway.
“She’s on our side now?” Luna said airily, from her position next to Ginny. “How nice.”
Grateful that at least Luna had accepted her statement (even though it was in her usual barmy way), Hermione turned back to Rodolphus, fully prepared to step in and help Mrs Weasley. Just as she prepared to stand, however, a hand grasped her wrist, and Bellatrix hissed in her ear. “No! He is mine!”
Realising what Bellatrix was about to do, Hermione held onto her arm tightly. “If I’m not killing him, you aren’t either!”
Bellatrix opened her mouth to protest, and then suddenly, it was too late. Mrs Weasley had successfully launched a Curse at Rodolphus as he taunted her, and with a twisted smile on Bellatrix’s face, he fell to the ground with a thud. For a second, Hermione imagined it to be her Bellatrix, and she sharply drew in air, before she realised that she was clutched onto the true raven haired witch, and that the imposter was dead.
Voldemort’s scream of rage upon imagining Bellatrix to be defeated terrified Hermione, for what if Bellatrix had a change of heart and decided to return to him? Bellatrix had not moved up until this point, but she was still staring ahead, eyes wide. It made Hermione question the expression on her face, one that she had never before seen on Bellatrix. It was almost a perverse version of satisfaction that Hermione hated to witness, but couldn’t quite take her eyes away from. And then, she smiled. It was a gloating, pleased smile that sent shivers down Hermione’s spine.
“Bella?” Hermione said nervously. “What are you...?”
“Shut up,” Bellatrix said, cutting her off.
Glancing back towards Rodolphus, Hermione realised that he had began morphing back to his usual form, the Polyjuice Potion no longer having an effect. It was horrifying to watch the lifeless transformation, for it seemed entirely unnatural, and forced Hermione to bite down on her tongue to stop herself from making choking motions. Any second now Voldemort was going to realise that Bellatrix wasn’t dead, and he was going to be enraged beyond belief at the betrayal of a Death Eater whose loyalty he had never doubted.
Three.
Two.
One.
Bellatrix was watching Voldemort now, and it seemed for a second that she was actually trying to catch his eye, watching as he noted the change in the corpse before him and eventually looked in her direction. The shock on his face was evidently only for half a breath, before the questioning began.
“What is this, Bellatrix?” he said sharply, immediately knowing he was faced with the true Bellatrix, such was his intelligence. After all, he was a horrifying, manipulative and evil wizard, but also one of immense skill which was the main reason he was such a danger to wizarding society.
“My-my Lord,” Bellatrix stammered, her eyes widening.
“Have you betrayed me? I wouldn’t have thought it possible...” Voldemort mused. Then, his face mutated further in violent fury. “Rodolphus took on your identity with Polyjuice Potion?” he said in his high, soulless voice, the inflection at the end of his sentence making it clear he was asking Bellatrix a question.
“Yes,” Bellatrix whispered, her bottom lip quivering.
Voldemort stared at her for several minutes more, and as his eyes took on an expression of understanding, Hermione realised he had seen the way Bellatrix felt about her.
“You have betrayed me,” Voldemort said quietly, his voice all the more terrifying for it quivered, as though he was holding back his rage. Briefly, Hermione wondered exactly how he knew of Bellatrix’s change in loyalty, immediately before she worked it out for herself. Voldemort was so experienced at Legilimency that he could see all of Bellatrix’s thoughts and feelings laid out before him just by glancing into her eyes. He was probably aware of the entire confrontation between Bellatrix and Rodolphus this evening having discovered it for himself. Hermione was sure that he had also had sight of all events previously, such as the intimate moments between herself and Bellatrix and the words they had shared. There had been no need for him to torture her for information, because Bellatrix had most likely not even attempted to block him from her mind, paralysed by fear and unwilling to do anything that would anger Voldemort further.
“My Lord, if I may just-”
“There’s no need to say anything, Bellatrix; I see all that you feel. You have fallen prey to the weakness that I warned you against. Love for a Mudblood, Bellatrix? How utterly disgusting!” Voldemort hissed, moving towards them.
Bellatrix again attempted to protest, “Please, allow me to explain-”
“SILENCE!” Voldemort roared, the glass bottle within which his anger had been encased shattering violently. “Tell me Bellatrix, if you had to choose in this moment who your loyalty lies with, what would you say? I, your Lord, or the Mudblood?”
Whimpering, Bellatrix didn’t appear to be able to bring herself to reply. She just stared in terror, and Hermione realised she couldn’t think straight, that she didn’t know who to proclaim her allegiance to. Voldemort was her past, but Hermione could be her future. No doubt if she was capable of thinking rationally then she would realise that Voldemort would punish her in the most gruesome of ways for her betrayal, and she would never be respected by him again. He would never forgive her, and she would be lucky if he even allowed her to live. Hermione on the other hand was willing to accept her for all her faults and to give her the love that she had always desired, but never before been granted. This, Hermione could see with clarity, but whether Bellatrix could was a different matter entirely.
Moments passed.
There was a flicker in Bellatrix’s eyes, and she glanced over to Hermione. Her one simple action spoke volumes, and even as her heart soared, Hermione worried for the repercussions. How was she going to save Bellatrix now? They wouldn’t have time to run away, for Voldemort would strike them dead before they even had a chance to get out of the Great Hall. Afraid, Hermione shuffled backwards, and jumped as she felt a hand on her shoulder. She glanced backwards. Ginny. Grateful for the gesture of support, she shakily touched her hand down on Ginny’s in gratitude, before she placed a hand on the small of Bellatrix’s back. If they were going to die, she at least wanted to die touching Bellatrix.
Voldemort breathed heavily, his eyes glowing red. “Before I kill you Bellatrix, I am going to teach you a lesson that you appear to have forgotten. All Mudbloods have dirty blood, no matter how attractive you may find them. As a traitor no longer capable of serving me, you shall be forced to watch as I spill her impure blood before you.” His eyes fell on Hermione, and he raised his wand.
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for death. She heard Bellatrix take a sharp intake of breath next to her, and felt nails dig into her arm as Bellatrix clutched her desperately. Burying her head in Bellatrix’s shoulder, she whispered, “I love you.”
In the next moment, everything changed.
“Is killing her really more important than killing me?”
Harry.
Lifting her head up, Hermione watched as Harry stalked towards them.
In that moment, Hermione knew that Harry had succeeded in distracting Voldemort entirely. As much as Voldemort wanted vengeance for Bellatrix’s betrayal, killing Harry, the reason for his demise sixteen years ago was far more important. There was arguing, but no fighting, just vicious words exchanged. Throughout, Bellatrix was enraptured, watching the two circling each other, now the only focus of everyone in the room. Hermione too couldn’t stop herself from looking, but Bellatrix was also on her mind, and so every now and then she glanced her way.
At first all she saw was the same glazed over expression on Bellatrix’s face, until love was mentioned, and she looked back towards Hermione, the spell over her seemingly broken. Relieved, Hermione met her eyes, and automatically without prio thought, she entwined a hand in Bellatrix’s, not stopping to worry about the raven haired witch ridiculing her. Fortunately, it didn’t appear to concern Bellatrix anyway, and although she didn’t grasp Hermione’s hand back, neither did she pull away.
Harry was telling Voldemort that Snape loved his mother, and Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise. There was so much she didn’t understand but would accept because it was coming out of Harry’s mouth, her best friend, the boy who was the closest thing she had to a brother. The wonderful, talented man who was now telling Voldemort, no, Riddle, to try to feel remorse. Draco was mentioned, and at the reminder of her sister and nephew, Bellatrix’s eyes began to search the hall, looking for Narcissa. As the pressure built though, the argument between Voldemort and Harry drew to a close, and it was then that the final moment came:
“Avada Kedavra!” Voldemort raged.
At the same time, Harry shouted, “Expelliarmus!” and there was a great whirl of green light in the air. Voldemort screamed, a terrible, ear-splitting kind of shriek that tore at Hermione’s insides, making her wish that she was momentarily away from the scene, that she didn’t have to witness this part of the evening. Black smoke poured out of his chest as Voldemort sunk, no longer moving, and the noise stopped, the hall rendered silent. Red eyes were no more, and for the first time, Voldemort was no longer so horrendously domineering, overpowering, intimidating. He was just a shell of a man, to live no longer.
There were shouts of relieved happiness, and suddenly everyone was moving at once. “IT’S OVER!” somebody yelled, and Hermione rose, whooping with joy, running towards Harry to crush him in a hug with Ron. People all around soon enveloped them, people like Ginny, Neville, Luna, all the Weasleys, every last living person who had been waiting for this moment. Death Eaters were defeated (captured or dead) and victims lay motionless all around, but they had not died in vain, Hermione told herself bravely, they had died for the greater good and would be rewarded for it in whatever world they had now entered. Nevertheless, it stung beyond belief, deep in her heart in a place that would never be healed, to know that many of those she loved, Tonks, Lupin and Fred, had perished at the hands of Voldemort and his sick, evil perception of what it was to be a worthy wizard.
She wanted to stay with Bellatrix, but she suspected that at the moment she would want to be with Narcissa, (Hermione could only hope that she had survived the Battle) and that as Bellatrix’s sister, Narcissa would be able to comfort her in a way that Hermione couldn’t. Whilst Hermione was thrilled with Voldemort’s demise, she didn’t expect Bellatrix to celebrate anytime soon, even if this meant that they may be able to be together. There was so much about a normal life that Bellatrix hadn’t experienced in a very long time, and it wasn’t suddenly going to be perfect for her. No, for us, Hermione corrected herself.
Instead of going back to Bellatrix, Hermione took a seat at the table next to Ron. She opened her mouth to speak to him about the kiss earlier, to explain it could never happen, when he spoke first.
“I know,” he said, sad and bitter. “I know it’s not me you want.”
“It’s not like that,” Hermione protested, despite the relief that had welled up as she realised that she didn’t need to confess her lack of feelings when he was already aware of them. “I still love you, Ron. I still want you in my life, and I want you to carry on being my best friend. But I... I’m not in love with you.”
“I know,” Ron snapped. “Bellatrix... well, she’s insane and I hate her. I wish she wasn’t around, but she is. And if she’s who will make you happy, then I have to try and deal with... well that Semper Amar thing.”
“Semper Amor,” Hermione corrected quietly because it was easier than trying to formulate the right words to say to Ron.
“Whatever,” Ron replied, uncaring. “Just... just leave me alone. I need to figure out whether I’m able to accept this or not.”
“I’m sorry about Fred,” Hermione whispered, unable to end the conversation without saying something.
“Percy got Rookwood for that,” Ron said, his voice full of hatred, his freckled skin reddening with burning anger. “I wish it could have been me, but I did help him to get Greyback. We stopped them from causing any more destruction; that’s something at least.”
Hermione didn’t know how to reply to that, though privately she admitted that she was especially relieved to hear of Greyback’s defeat. Fortunately she was saved by Harry appearing (or rather, not appearing) in his Cloak and asking them to join him. Together, they recounted their own experiences of the night, and listened to Harry’s tale of how he had escaped death and attempted to sacrifice himself for their sake. It hit home for Hermione just how brave and kind a person Harry was to do such a thing. There weren’t many people in the world who would have been able to walk towards their own death in such a circumstance.
They walked to the office that had once been Dumbledore’s and as far as Hermione was aware, currently belonged to no one. They entered to a round of applause from the portraits, but Hermione discounted all around her, only having eyes for Dumbledore’s portrait. She waited through the conversation as Harry and Ron discussed the Elder Wand with him, only interjecting once to agree with Harry. The Elder Wand would do nobody any good, but she wasn’t too concerned about that right now; she could only think of Bellatrix.
“Is something troubling you, Miss Granger?” Dumbledore asked from his portrait, his brilliant blue eyes displaying concern. “Forgive me for saying so, but you seem quieter than usual.”
“I need some advice, Professor,” she blurted out before she could stop herself.
Dumbledore inclined his head to the side, and despite the fact that he was doing it from a portrait rather than standing before her, it still comforted Hermione to know that he was willing to listen. He had been through so much in his own life such as the death of his sister, but he never tried to burden anyone around him with the miserable truth about his own past. Instead, he hid his shame and dedicated his entire life to improving the wizarding world. The time wasn’t right at the moment, but one day, Hermione hoped that she, Harry and Ron could discuss with Dumbledore the conversation they had with Aberforth, and tell Dumbledore that they still had a huge amount of respect for him anyway.
Without another moment’s hesitation, Hermione launched into her own long and detailed story of all the events that had transpired with Bellatrix, even the more embarrassing aspects as she knew that for Dumbledore, they would be relevant. He nodded his head in the frame throughout, listening intently and not interrupting her once. For their part, Harry and Ron stood by her sides in silence, allowing her the space she needed to talk.
“So Bellatrix has changed,” Hermione finished eventually. “She says she can prove what she says about Neville’s parents with the memory from Rodolphus, and I’m sure if we ask her she’ll show us the memory of Voldemort stating he will be possessing her at the Ministry.”
Before Dumbledore could open his mouth to speak, however, Phineas Nigellus Black interrupted the conversation from his own portrait. “Surely you are not discussing my Great Great Granddaughter, Bellatrix Lestrange?” he asked, outraged. “The proudest pure-blood ever to descend from our line?”
“That’s exactly who I’m talking about,” Hermione snapped, daring him to challenge her.
“A Mud... Muggle-born? Is she insane?!” he exclaimed, looking appalled.
“That will do, Phineas,” Dumbledore said sharply. “Miss Granger... Hermione... what exactly is it that you want from me?”
“Only advice,” Hermione assured him. “I need to know if I’m doing the right thing by accepting Bellatrix despite every horrible thing she’s done over the years. I know that others may not forgive her and... well she could face Azkaban.” She swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump that formed in her throat at the thought of Bellatrix being imprisoned.
“Do you truly believe she has changed?” Dumbledore posed the question to her.
Hermione took a few seconds to think before giving her answer. Eventually, she said slowly, “I think... I think she is no longer a risk to others as long as she has me. And I think in time I could change her opinions, but at the moment, I wouldn’t say she has entirely reformed.”
Inviting himself into the conversation Harry placed a hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “It seems to me that Bellatrix has become like Snape, in a twisted kind of way. Snape changed after Voldemort took my mother who was the love of his life away from him, and Bellatrix will change because of you. If Snape had lived and my mother had married him instead of my dad, then he never would have become a Death Eater, and he would have lived a very different life.”
“Wise words, Harry. Words I would not have thought you able to say before this tonight,” Dumbledore concurred. “I agree. I believe, Hermione, that if you can convince others that Bellatrix has changed, coupled with her contribution when fighting and the actions others have witnessed, there should be no reason why she cannot be pardoned for her offences. Especially if you take it as true that she was not responsible for Sirius or the Longbottoms.”
“But...” Hermione swallowed. There was still one particular issue that she worried about. “How can she be forgiven if she doesn’t even regret the things that she has done?”
Dumbledore shook his head. “You are expecting too much, too soon. Bellatrix has shown herself to be capable of love... and those that are capable of love are also capable of feeling remorse. It may take twenty years, but sometime, some place, she will express it.”
“Are you talking about Bellatrix Lestrange?” A booming voice interrupted from behind.
Hermione spun around. Kingsley.
“Yes,” she said. “How much did you hear?”
Kingsley held up an Extendable Ear; one of Fred (no, don’t think of him, not now) and George’s most infamous inventions. “All of it.”
“Oh.”
“Oh indeed, Miss Granger,” Kingsley said. “I feel now it is an appropriate time to tell you that I have been voted Minister for Magic by the remaining Order members. It’s obviously temporary at the moment, but hopefully it’ll be made official if I do a good enough job.”
Hermione’s heart sank. Why would Kingsley defend Bellatrix when it would probably cause half of the wizarding world to hate him?
Her disappointment must have shown on her face, as Kingsley shook his head. “Listen to me, Miss Granger. I did indeed witness Bellatrix’s defence of me earlier this evening, before Voldemort started to lose the battle. I know that what you have just told Dumbledore is the utmost truth, and so I have a proposal for you. I will question Bellatrix myself under the influence of Veritaserum; I know it isn’t fool-proof, but it should be an indicator from her body language, and whether she struggles to answer or does so straight away. I will ask her to show me the memories she has, and to provide all information she can. Should she agree to those conditions and more regarding her freedom to move within the wizarding world, then I will see to it that she doesn’t serve time in Azkaban. Especially considering that she was not responsible for the incapacitation of the Longbottoms or the death of Sirius.”
Hermione took this in, and picked up on something within Kingsley’s speech. “What other sorts of conditions?”
“Her cooperating with us at the Ministry by visiting us regularly. Appointments with a Soul-Healer who will be able to work with her to help her fit back into society and change her views, those sorts of things,” Kingsley informed her. “I’ll have to talk to her and see how she responds though. If I face more than just attitude and I think she needs it, then she may have to stay in St. Mungos for a short while.”
“A Soul-Healer?” Harry asked, frowning.
“It’s the wizard version of a psychologist,” Hermione explained promptly, though inside she desperately hoped that Bellatrix would not require hospital treatment. “They deal with wizarding mental health problems which um... which Bellatrix obviously has.”
“Obviously,” Ron muttered.
“Will you allow her sister and nephew, Narcissa and Draco to also go without punishment?” Hermione asked. “They didn’t actually fight us.”
“She’s right,” Harry said, again backing her up. “They’ve been through enough. Lucius Malfoy too, I suppose. I don’t like Draco but he doesn’t deserve Azkaban, and Narcissa is the reason I’m alive. She lied to Voldemort and told him I was dead when she’d already felt my heart beating. Granted it was to save Draco’s skin, but still...”
“I will speak with them too eventually, but I see no immediate problem with that,” Kingsley replied. “Bellatrix on the other hand I would rather deal with now. Would you like to go and find her?” Kingsley suggested, glancing at Hermione. “Bring her to me here; I am sure Professor McGonagall, Hogwarts new Headmistress if I have anything to say about it, will not object to us using her office.”
Hermione nodded, and without looking back, she ran off in search of Bellatrix, down the stairs and along the corridor. For the first time she had real, honest optimism that she could be with Bellatrix. If Bellatrix did as was expected and she cooperated with the Ministry, then she would be able to live her life a free woman, and she and Hermione could be together without hiding. It would be incredible, for Hermione wasn’t ashamed of the fact she was in love with Bellatrix, rather she was proud that she was the reason that Bellatrix had made the right decision and betrayed Voldemort.
Walking swiftly, Hermione didn’t get very far before she ran straight into the very woman she was searching for, and stepped back in surprise. “Bellatrix!” she said happily. “I’ve been looking for you.” Despite her dishevelled state, Bellatrix still bore signs of her striking good looks, and had they not been in a corridor surrounded by other people, (who were occasionally glancing over at Bellatrix with displaying expressions on their faces such as shock, distrust and horror) then she would have kissed her passionately.
Bellatrix stared at her and said sullenly, “You seemed distracted by your friends, so I have been with Narcissa.”
Glancing to the left of Bellatrix, Hermione noted with surprise that she wasn’t actually alone, for trailing alongside her were Narcissa and Draco. Lucius Malfoy, however, was nowhere to be seen.
“Hello,” Hermione said, keeping her tone even, and Narcissa and Draco nodded in her direction, though they said nothing. She turned back to Bellatrix. “I had to see Harry so he could explain exactly what had happened tonight, but I’m here now.”
Leaning in towards her, Bellatrix hissed into Hermione’s ear so that only she could hear, “I don’t expect such treatment!”
Frowning, Hermione replied in a normal volume, uncaring that they had witnesses, “I haven’t done anything! There were important things I had to do before I saw you, and I imagined you would want to spend time with your family.”
“I think we should leave you, Bellatrix,” Narcissa murmured to her sister.
“I’ve been speaking to Kingsley about you,” Hermione said, starting to wonder why she had even bothered if this was the thanks she was going to get. Was this the Bellatrix she would be faced with from now on; moody and uncooperative? She had assumed that once they were free of Voldemort that Bellatrix would be pleased to see her after the immediate aftermath, that she would be back to her usual insanity that Hermione apparently found so endearing. Deciding to make it clear what she had done, Hermione added, “He is confident that you won’t have to serve time in Azkaban, and the same applies for Narcissa and Draco too. Just like you wanted.”
“And what of Lucius?” Narcissa asked, addressing Hermione for the first time, looking at her desperately. Her brown eyes reminded Hermione of Bellatrix so much that her heart skipped a beat, and she had to force herself to focus on the conversation once more.
Hermione nodded, meeting the eyes of the blonde witch, determined not to let herself be intimidated. If she could handle Bellatrix, then she was obviously capable of handling her somewhat tamer sister. “Him too. Kingsley... he’s temporary Minister for Magic, and he wants to speak to you all soon, but right now he wants to see Bellatrix.”
“Fine,” Bellatrix said tonelessly, not looking at all grateful. “Narcissa, I shall see you later,” she added curtly.
“We are going back to the Manor,” Narcissa announced. “You are welcome to join us later on.” She looked only at Bellatrix, ignoring Hermione. As ridiculous as it was, Hermione couldn’t help thinking that she was extremely ungrateful, especially considering the fact that she had served the wrong side for a very long time. Apparently an inability to show gratitude was something that Narcissa had in common with Bellatrix. Miserable cow.
As Hermione walked away with Bellatrix, she asked pointedly, “Does Narcissa know about us?”
“No,” Bellatrix denied. “Though she suspects, I would imagine.”
Hermione sighed at the fact there was yet another thing for her to worry about. Now that the war was over she had wanted to live an entirely stress-free life for a few months at least, but apparently that wasn’t going to happen. “Are you going to tell her?”
“I shall have to, but first I have the more pressing issue of my freedom to deal with,” Bellatrix said sharply.
Anger flared up inside Hermione at the way Bellatrix was treating her after everything she had risked for her. She may lose some friends because of the choice she had made to support Bellatrix, not to mention the fact that over the past months she had put herself in danger by taking chance after chance with Bellatrix, before they were even together. Granted, Bellatrix released her from Black Manor, but considering that she had been the one to abduct Hermione last summer, Hermione wasn’t all that sure she should be given credit for that. Speaking harshly, she said, “Don’t take out your frustration on me! It’s not my fault; I’ve only tried to help you.”
“Then don’t speak to me,” Bellatrix snapped.
“Fine,” Hermione said, making her annoyance clear.
Ignoring her, Bellatrix haughtily walked up the stairs, Hermione trailing behind.
Before she opened the door to the office, Hermione grabbed her arm. There was something that had been irritating her ever since the final confrontation between Voldemort and Harry, and that was the look in Bellatrix’s eyes as she watched the man, the creature, that used to be her Lord. For a brief few minutes there had been a gaze that suggested adoration, and disturbingly it was an expression that Hermione had never before witnessed in the older witch. She could only hope that as Voldemort was truly gone, Bellatrix would begin to move on from him and obsession would diminish entirely. Already she had made a vast amount of progress, but Hermione still had something she wanted to say to Bellatrix.
“Wait,” Hermione said in a hushed voice so that they weren’t overheard.
“I thought you weren’t going to speak to me,” Bellatrix said childishly.
“I wasn’t. “But... well back there with Voldemort,” she said his name, relishing just a little the fact that it was now safe to do so. “For a moment, I thought you were going to choose him over me.”
“I almost did,” Bellatrix disclosed.
Hermione’s face fell.
“But I didn’t,” Bellatrix added, as she opened the door to the office. “And that’s all that matters.”
**
(( CLICK HERE for part 21. ))
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), (16), (17), (18), (19)
**
Before the doors close
And it comes to an endWith you by my side I will fight and defend
Avril Lavigne, Keep Holding On
**
20.
The Battle gradually moved from outside and back into the Great Hall, with Hermione, Bellatrix and Neville running as fast as possible. Eventually Neville was separated from them, and left alone, Hermione kept an eye out for Rodolphus disguised as Bellatrix. She had unconsciously decided from the moment that Rodolphus had taken the Polyjuice Potion that he was going to be her target; now that Harry was alive (and though she hadn’t seen him, she knew he was somewhere, hidden under his Invisibility Cloak...) Voldemort was his to defeat, and Ron was most likely going after Rookwood, who they suspected had caused the blast that killed Fred.
In Hermione’s search for Rodolphus she had lost sight of Bellatrix, and attempting to ignore the worried pang in her chest by telling herself that Bellatrix was an extremely skilled witch and capable of protecting herself, she spun around, moving apprehensively closer to Voldemort. In the centre of the room, he was duelling against McGonagall, Slughorn and Kingsley, fixated on murdering them but not quite succeeding. It was then that Hermione spotted him; Rodolphus, the fake Bellatrix, had placed himself close to Voldemort, most likely in an attempt at protection. It was uncanny, Hermione thought, how much he looked like her, from the expression on his face to the mannerisms he used. Polyjuice Potion could disguise oneself, but it took real talent, Hermione grudgingly admitted, to truly become the person. It made her wonder if Rodolphus had disguised himself as Bellatrix before; it seemed to come so naturally to him that he wasn’t putting effort into anything but duelling.
As Rodolphus duelled with Ginny and Luna, Hermione stepped forward to join them. With three against one they were technically in a stronger position, but Rodolphus had unfortunately had far more practice at duelling than them. He easily matched all three, laughing cruelly each time he waved his wand in their direction. Despite this, it seemed to take several moments for Rodolphus to realise that it was Hermione he was duelling against, and it was only when he locked eyes with her that his face contorted into a snarl at his recognition of who she was. He continued to battle them, but he aimed the majority of curses towards Hermione now, targeting her because of his discovery of Bellatrix’s betrayal for her.
“You’ll never defeat me, Mudblood!” he shrieked, hatred within the eyes of Bellatrix that he had stolen so cleverly.
At once Hermione was reminded of the expressions that Bellatrix used to wear when she first abducted her, and it took all her energy to focus on continuing to deflect the curses. It was illogical for she knew that she was faced with Rodolphus, but she couldn’t look at Bellatrix’s body and summon up enough hatred to curse him. Fear began to rise within her as the curses flew at her faster than before, and desperately, she attempted to throw an Impervius Charm at Rodolphus to tie him up and prevent him from aiming curses her way. Unfortunately, Rodolphus was too quick, and with a sneer on Bellatrix’s face, he shot a Killing Curse that narrowly missed Hermione and Ginny who were launched back in the air and out of the way.
Winded, but otherwise unharmed by the move, Hermione gazed around with terror and happened to spot the real Bellatrix under her cloak. Their eyes met, and she tried to pull herself into a sitting position and gesture for Bellatrix to come towards her. It was a struggle, however, for she was still trying to catch her breath, and by the look of Ginny next to her, she was having difficulties too. Seeing a flash of light from the corner of her eye, she heard Mrs Weasley shout, “NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!” and was suddenly aware of Bellatrix running towards her, launching herself downwards and landing on top of her.
She stared at Hermione with wide, panicked eyes, and she seemingly could not talk, for seconds later she was still watching Hermione desperately, her lips unmoving.
“I’m ok,” Hermione forced out, knowing that Bellatrix needed reassurance that she was alright. Carefully, she shifted out from underneath Bellatrix, ignoring the pain in her ribs from their collision. “Don’t worry.”
“What’s going on?” Ginny said next to them, taking note of Bellatrix. “Hermione, who’s that? If my mum is fighting Bellatrix...” her voice trailed off as she nodded towards her mother, who was now engaged in a vicious duel with Bellatrix, no, Rodolphus, whilst onlookers stood all around, watching with their wands out in case a curse should accidentally fly their way and they needed to defend themselves.
“There’s no time to explain properly,” Hermione said urgently, directing her gaze at Ginny and Luna who were seated on the floor beside her. “All you need to know is that this is the real Bellatrix, and she’s on our side.”
“What?” Ginny gasped, sounding horrified. She thrust her wand outward towards them without hesitation.
Hermione mirrored Ginny’s actions. “Put down your wand, Ginny,” she said firmly. “Just believe me for the moment, because now is not the time to question me!”
Ginny remained silent, her eyes mistrusting, and gradually lowered her wand, albeit not completely. Still, Hermione chose to interpret this as her command being understood, and she watched as Bellatrix pulled her hood down, her face now visible. Everyone else was still focused on the duels and as far as Hermione was aware they didn’t notice; though if anyone had realised there were two Bellatrix’s they chose to not get involved as they didn’t want to make the wrong move, and were most likely preoccupied with keeping an eye on Voldemort anyway.
“She’s on our side now?” Luna said airily, from her position next to Ginny. “How nice.”
Grateful that at least Luna had accepted her statement (even though it was in her usual barmy way), Hermione turned back to Rodolphus, fully prepared to step in and help Mrs Weasley. Just as she prepared to stand, however, a hand grasped her wrist, and Bellatrix hissed in her ear. “No! He is mine!”
Realising what Bellatrix was about to do, Hermione held onto her arm tightly. “If I’m not killing him, you aren’t either!”
Bellatrix opened her mouth to protest, and then suddenly, it was too late. Mrs Weasley had successfully launched a Curse at Rodolphus as he taunted her, and with a twisted smile on Bellatrix’s face, he fell to the ground with a thud. For a second, Hermione imagined it to be her Bellatrix, and she sharply drew in air, before she realised that she was clutched onto the true raven haired witch, and that the imposter was dead.
Voldemort’s scream of rage upon imagining Bellatrix to be defeated terrified Hermione, for what if Bellatrix had a change of heart and decided to return to him? Bellatrix had not moved up until this point, but she was still staring ahead, eyes wide. It made Hermione question the expression on her face, one that she had never before seen on Bellatrix. It was almost a perverse version of satisfaction that Hermione hated to witness, but couldn’t quite take her eyes away from. And then, she smiled. It was a gloating, pleased smile that sent shivers down Hermione’s spine.
“Bella?” Hermione said nervously. “What are you...?”
“Shut up,” Bellatrix said, cutting her off.
Glancing back towards Rodolphus, Hermione realised that he had began morphing back to his usual form, the Polyjuice Potion no longer having an effect. It was horrifying to watch the lifeless transformation, for it seemed entirely unnatural, and forced Hermione to bite down on her tongue to stop herself from making choking motions. Any second now Voldemort was going to realise that Bellatrix wasn’t dead, and he was going to be enraged beyond belief at the betrayal of a Death Eater whose loyalty he had never doubted.
Three.
Two.
One.
Bellatrix was watching Voldemort now, and it seemed for a second that she was actually trying to catch his eye, watching as he noted the change in the corpse before him and eventually looked in her direction. The shock on his face was evidently only for half a breath, before the questioning began.
“What is this, Bellatrix?” he said sharply, immediately knowing he was faced with the true Bellatrix, such was his intelligence. After all, he was a horrifying, manipulative and evil wizard, but also one of immense skill which was the main reason he was such a danger to wizarding society.
“My-my Lord,” Bellatrix stammered, her eyes widening.
“Have you betrayed me? I wouldn’t have thought it possible...” Voldemort mused. Then, his face mutated further in violent fury. “Rodolphus took on your identity with Polyjuice Potion?” he said in his high, soulless voice, the inflection at the end of his sentence making it clear he was asking Bellatrix a question.
“Yes,” Bellatrix whispered, her bottom lip quivering.
Voldemort stared at her for several minutes more, and as his eyes took on an expression of understanding, Hermione realised he had seen the way Bellatrix felt about her.
“You have betrayed me,” Voldemort said quietly, his voice all the more terrifying for it quivered, as though he was holding back his rage. Briefly, Hermione wondered exactly how he knew of Bellatrix’s change in loyalty, immediately before she worked it out for herself. Voldemort was so experienced at Legilimency that he could see all of Bellatrix’s thoughts and feelings laid out before him just by glancing into her eyes. He was probably aware of the entire confrontation between Bellatrix and Rodolphus this evening having discovered it for himself. Hermione was sure that he had also had sight of all events previously, such as the intimate moments between herself and Bellatrix and the words they had shared. There had been no need for him to torture her for information, because Bellatrix had most likely not even attempted to block him from her mind, paralysed by fear and unwilling to do anything that would anger Voldemort further.
“My Lord, if I may just-”
“There’s no need to say anything, Bellatrix; I see all that you feel. You have fallen prey to the weakness that I warned you against. Love for a Mudblood, Bellatrix? How utterly disgusting!” Voldemort hissed, moving towards them.
Bellatrix again attempted to protest, “Please, allow me to explain-”
“SILENCE!” Voldemort roared, the glass bottle within which his anger had been encased shattering violently. “Tell me Bellatrix, if you had to choose in this moment who your loyalty lies with, what would you say? I, your Lord, or the Mudblood?”
Whimpering, Bellatrix didn’t appear to be able to bring herself to reply. She just stared in terror, and Hermione realised she couldn’t think straight, that she didn’t know who to proclaim her allegiance to. Voldemort was her past, but Hermione could be her future. No doubt if she was capable of thinking rationally then she would realise that Voldemort would punish her in the most gruesome of ways for her betrayal, and she would never be respected by him again. He would never forgive her, and she would be lucky if he even allowed her to live. Hermione on the other hand was willing to accept her for all her faults and to give her the love that she had always desired, but never before been granted. This, Hermione could see with clarity, but whether Bellatrix could was a different matter entirely.
Moments passed.
There was a flicker in Bellatrix’s eyes, and she glanced over to Hermione. Her one simple action spoke volumes, and even as her heart soared, Hermione worried for the repercussions. How was she going to save Bellatrix now? They wouldn’t have time to run away, for Voldemort would strike them dead before they even had a chance to get out of the Great Hall. Afraid, Hermione shuffled backwards, and jumped as she felt a hand on her shoulder. She glanced backwards. Ginny. Grateful for the gesture of support, she shakily touched her hand down on Ginny’s in gratitude, before she placed a hand on the small of Bellatrix’s back. If they were going to die, she at least wanted to die touching Bellatrix.
Voldemort breathed heavily, his eyes glowing red. “Before I kill you Bellatrix, I am going to teach you a lesson that you appear to have forgotten. All Mudbloods have dirty blood, no matter how attractive you may find them. As a traitor no longer capable of serving me, you shall be forced to watch as I spill her impure blood before you.” His eyes fell on Hermione, and he raised his wand.
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for death. She heard Bellatrix take a sharp intake of breath next to her, and felt nails dig into her arm as Bellatrix clutched her desperately. Burying her head in Bellatrix’s shoulder, she whispered, “I love you.”
In the next moment, everything changed.
“Is killing her really more important than killing me?”
Harry.
Lifting her head up, Hermione watched as Harry stalked towards them.
In that moment, Hermione knew that Harry had succeeded in distracting Voldemort entirely. As much as Voldemort wanted vengeance for Bellatrix’s betrayal, killing Harry, the reason for his demise sixteen years ago was far more important. There was arguing, but no fighting, just vicious words exchanged. Throughout, Bellatrix was enraptured, watching the two circling each other, now the only focus of everyone in the room. Hermione too couldn’t stop herself from looking, but Bellatrix was also on her mind, and so every now and then she glanced her way.
At first all she saw was the same glazed over expression on Bellatrix’s face, until love was mentioned, and she looked back towards Hermione, the spell over her seemingly broken. Relieved, Hermione met her eyes, and automatically without prio thought, she entwined a hand in Bellatrix’s, not stopping to worry about the raven haired witch ridiculing her. Fortunately, it didn’t appear to concern Bellatrix anyway, and although she didn’t grasp Hermione’s hand back, neither did she pull away.
Harry was telling Voldemort that Snape loved his mother, and Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise. There was so much she didn’t understand but would accept because it was coming out of Harry’s mouth, her best friend, the boy who was the closest thing she had to a brother. The wonderful, talented man who was now telling Voldemort, no, Riddle, to try to feel remorse. Draco was mentioned, and at the reminder of her sister and nephew, Bellatrix’s eyes began to search the hall, looking for Narcissa. As the pressure built though, the argument between Voldemort and Harry drew to a close, and it was then that the final moment came:
“Avada Kedavra!” Voldemort raged.
At the same time, Harry shouted, “Expelliarmus!” and there was a great whirl of green light in the air. Voldemort screamed, a terrible, ear-splitting kind of shriek that tore at Hermione’s insides, making her wish that she was momentarily away from the scene, that she didn’t have to witness this part of the evening. Black smoke poured out of his chest as Voldemort sunk, no longer moving, and the noise stopped, the hall rendered silent. Red eyes were no more, and for the first time, Voldemort was no longer so horrendously domineering, overpowering, intimidating. He was just a shell of a man, to live no longer.
There were shouts of relieved happiness, and suddenly everyone was moving at once. “IT’S OVER!” somebody yelled, and Hermione rose, whooping with joy, running towards Harry to crush him in a hug with Ron. People all around soon enveloped them, people like Ginny, Neville, Luna, all the Weasleys, every last living person who had been waiting for this moment. Death Eaters were defeated (captured or dead) and victims lay motionless all around, but they had not died in vain, Hermione told herself bravely, they had died for the greater good and would be rewarded for it in whatever world they had now entered. Nevertheless, it stung beyond belief, deep in her heart in a place that would never be healed, to know that many of those she loved, Tonks, Lupin and Fred, had perished at the hands of Voldemort and his sick, evil perception of what it was to be a worthy wizard.
She wanted to stay with Bellatrix, but she suspected that at the moment she would want to be with Narcissa, (Hermione could only hope that she had survived the Battle) and that as Bellatrix’s sister, Narcissa would be able to comfort her in a way that Hermione couldn’t. Whilst Hermione was thrilled with Voldemort’s demise, she didn’t expect Bellatrix to celebrate anytime soon, even if this meant that they may be able to be together. There was so much about a normal life that Bellatrix hadn’t experienced in a very long time, and it wasn’t suddenly going to be perfect for her. No, for us, Hermione corrected herself.
Instead of going back to Bellatrix, Hermione took a seat at the table next to Ron. She opened her mouth to speak to him about the kiss earlier, to explain it could never happen, when he spoke first.
“I know,” he said, sad and bitter. “I know it’s not me you want.”
“It’s not like that,” Hermione protested, despite the relief that had welled up as she realised that she didn’t need to confess her lack of feelings when he was already aware of them. “I still love you, Ron. I still want you in my life, and I want you to carry on being my best friend. But I... I’m not in love with you.”
“I know,” Ron snapped. “Bellatrix... well, she’s insane and I hate her. I wish she wasn’t around, but she is. And if she’s who will make you happy, then I have to try and deal with... well that Semper Amar thing.”
“Semper Amor,” Hermione corrected quietly because it was easier than trying to formulate the right words to say to Ron.
“Whatever,” Ron replied, uncaring. “Just... just leave me alone. I need to figure out whether I’m able to accept this or not.”
“I’m sorry about Fred,” Hermione whispered, unable to end the conversation without saying something.
“Percy got Rookwood for that,” Ron said, his voice full of hatred, his freckled skin reddening with burning anger. “I wish it could have been me, but I did help him to get Greyback. We stopped them from causing any more destruction; that’s something at least.”
Hermione didn’t know how to reply to that, though privately she admitted that she was especially relieved to hear of Greyback’s defeat. Fortunately she was saved by Harry appearing (or rather, not appearing) in his Cloak and asking them to join him. Together, they recounted their own experiences of the night, and listened to Harry’s tale of how he had escaped death and attempted to sacrifice himself for their sake. It hit home for Hermione just how brave and kind a person Harry was to do such a thing. There weren’t many people in the world who would have been able to walk towards their own death in such a circumstance.
They walked to the office that had once been Dumbledore’s and as far as Hermione was aware, currently belonged to no one. They entered to a round of applause from the portraits, but Hermione discounted all around her, only having eyes for Dumbledore’s portrait. She waited through the conversation as Harry and Ron discussed the Elder Wand with him, only interjecting once to agree with Harry. The Elder Wand would do nobody any good, but she wasn’t too concerned about that right now; she could only think of Bellatrix.
“Is something troubling you, Miss Granger?” Dumbledore asked from his portrait, his brilliant blue eyes displaying concern. “Forgive me for saying so, but you seem quieter than usual.”
“I need some advice, Professor,” she blurted out before she could stop herself.
Dumbledore inclined his head to the side, and despite the fact that he was doing it from a portrait rather than standing before her, it still comforted Hermione to know that he was willing to listen. He had been through so much in his own life such as the death of his sister, but he never tried to burden anyone around him with the miserable truth about his own past. Instead, he hid his shame and dedicated his entire life to improving the wizarding world. The time wasn’t right at the moment, but one day, Hermione hoped that she, Harry and Ron could discuss with Dumbledore the conversation they had with Aberforth, and tell Dumbledore that they still had a huge amount of respect for him anyway.
Without another moment’s hesitation, Hermione launched into her own long and detailed story of all the events that had transpired with Bellatrix, even the more embarrassing aspects as she knew that for Dumbledore, they would be relevant. He nodded his head in the frame throughout, listening intently and not interrupting her once. For their part, Harry and Ron stood by her sides in silence, allowing her the space she needed to talk.
“So Bellatrix has changed,” Hermione finished eventually. “She says she can prove what she says about Neville’s parents with the memory from Rodolphus, and I’m sure if we ask her she’ll show us the memory of Voldemort stating he will be possessing her at the Ministry.”
Before Dumbledore could open his mouth to speak, however, Phineas Nigellus Black interrupted the conversation from his own portrait. “Surely you are not discussing my Great Great Granddaughter, Bellatrix Lestrange?” he asked, outraged. “The proudest pure-blood ever to descend from our line?”
“That’s exactly who I’m talking about,” Hermione snapped, daring him to challenge her.
“A Mud... Muggle-born? Is she insane?!” he exclaimed, looking appalled.
“That will do, Phineas,” Dumbledore said sharply. “Miss Granger... Hermione... what exactly is it that you want from me?”
“Only advice,” Hermione assured him. “I need to know if I’m doing the right thing by accepting Bellatrix despite every horrible thing she’s done over the years. I know that others may not forgive her and... well she could face Azkaban.” She swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump that formed in her throat at the thought of Bellatrix being imprisoned.
“Do you truly believe she has changed?” Dumbledore posed the question to her.
Hermione took a few seconds to think before giving her answer. Eventually, she said slowly, “I think... I think she is no longer a risk to others as long as she has me. And I think in time I could change her opinions, but at the moment, I wouldn’t say she has entirely reformed.”
Inviting himself into the conversation Harry placed a hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “It seems to me that Bellatrix has become like Snape, in a twisted kind of way. Snape changed after Voldemort took my mother who was the love of his life away from him, and Bellatrix will change because of you. If Snape had lived and my mother had married him instead of my dad, then he never would have become a Death Eater, and he would have lived a very different life.”
“Wise words, Harry. Words I would not have thought you able to say before this tonight,” Dumbledore concurred. “I agree. I believe, Hermione, that if you can convince others that Bellatrix has changed, coupled with her contribution when fighting and the actions others have witnessed, there should be no reason why she cannot be pardoned for her offences. Especially if you take it as true that she was not responsible for Sirius or the Longbottoms.”
“But...” Hermione swallowed. There was still one particular issue that she worried about. “How can she be forgiven if she doesn’t even regret the things that she has done?”
Dumbledore shook his head. “You are expecting too much, too soon. Bellatrix has shown herself to be capable of love... and those that are capable of love are also capable of feeling remorse. It may take twenty years, but sometime, some place, she will express it.”
“Are you talking about Bellatrix Lestrange?” A booming voice interrupted from behind.
Hermione spun around. Kingsley.
“Yes,” she said. “How much did you hear?”
Kingsley held up an Extendable Ear; one of Fred (no, don’t think of him, not now) and George’s most infamous inventions. “All of it.”
“Oh.”
“Oh indeed, Miss Granger,” Kingsley said. “I feel now it is an appropriate time to tell you that I have been voted Minister for Magic by the remaining Order members. It’s obviously temporary at the moment, but hopefully it’ll be made official if I do a good enough job.”
Hermione’s heart sank. Why would Kingsley defend Bellatrix when it would probably cause half of the wizarding world to hate him?
Her disappointment must have shown on her face, as Kingsley shook his head. “Listen to me, Miss Granger. I did indeed witness Bellatrix’s defence of me earlier this evening, before Voldemort started to lose the battle. I know that what you have just told Dumbledore is the utmost truth, and so I have a proposal for you. I will question Bellatrix myself under the influence of Veritaserum; I know it isn’t fool-proof, but it should be an indicator from her body language, and whether she struggles to answer or does so straight away. I will ask her to show me the memories she has, and to provide all information she can. Should she agree to those conditions and more regarding her freedom to move within the wizarding world, then I will see to it that she doesn’t serve time in Azkaban. Especially considering that she was not responsible for the incapacitation of the Longbottoms or the death of Sirius.”
Hermione took this in, and picked up on something within Kingsley’s speech. “What other sorts of conditions?”
“Her cooperating with us at the Ministry by visiting us regularly. Appointments with a Soul-Healer who will be able to work with her to help her fit back into society and change her views, those sorts of things,” Kingsley informed her. “I’ll have to talk to her and see how she responds though. If I face more than just attitude and I think she needs it, then she may have to stay in St. Mungos for a short while.”
“A Soul-Healer?” Harry asked, frowning.
“It’s the wizard version of a psychologist,” Hermione explained promptly, though inside she desperately hoped that Bellatrix would not require hospital treatment. “They deal with wizarding mental health problems which um... which Bellatrix obviously has.”
“Obviously,” Ron muttered.
“Will you allow her sister and nephew, Narcissa and Draco to also go without punishment?” Hermione asked. “They didn’t actually fight us.”
“She’s right,” Harry said, again backing her up. “They’ve been through enough. Lucius Malfoy too, I suppose. I don’t like Draco but he doesn’t deserve Azkaban, and Narcissa is the reason I’m alive. She lied to Voldemort and told him I was dead when she’d already felt my heart beating. Granted it was to save Draco’s skin, but still...”
“I will speak with them too eventually, but I see no immediate problem with that,” Kingsley replied. “Bellatrix on the other hand I would rather deal with now. Would you like to go and find her?” Kingsley suggested, glancing at Hermione. “Bring her to me here; I am sure Professor McGonagall, Hogwarts new Headmistress if I have anything to say about it, will not object to us using her office.”
Hermione nodded, and without looking back, she ran off in search of Bellatrix, down the stairs and along the corridor. For the first time she had real, honest optimism that she could be with Bellatrix. If Bellatrix did as was expected and she cooperated with the Ministry, then she would be able to live her life a free woman, and she and Hermione could be together without hiding. It would be incredible, for Hermione wasn’t ashamed of the fact she was in love with Bellatrix, rather she was proud that she was the reason that Bellatrix had made the right decision and betrayed Voldemort.
Walking swiftly, Hermione didn’t get very far before she ran straight into the very woman she was searching for, and stepped back in surprise. “Bellatrix!” she said happily. “I’ve been looking for you.” Despite her dishevelled state, Bellatrix still bore signs of her striking good looks, and had they not been in a corridor surrounded by other people, (who were occasionally glancing over at Bellatrix with displaying expressions on their faces such as shock, distrust and horror) then she would have kissed her passionately.
Bellatrix stared at her and said sullenly, “You seemed distracted by your friends, so I have been with Narcissa.”
Glancing to the left of Bellatrix, Hermione noted with surprise that she wasn’t actually alone, for trailing alongside her were Narcissa and Draco. Lucius Malfoy, however, was nowhere to be seen.
“Hello,” Hermione said, keeping her tone even, and Narcissa and Draco nodded in her direction, though they said nothing. She turned back to Bellatrix. “I had to see Harry so he could explain exactly what had happened tonight, but I’m here now.”
Leaning in towards her, Bellatrix hissed into Hermione’s ear so that only she could hear, “I don’t expect such treatment!”
Frowning, Hermione replied in a normal volume, uncaring that they had witnesses, “I haven’t done anything! There were important things I had to do before I saw you, and I imagined you would want to spend time with your family.”
“I think we should leave you, Bellatrix,” Narcissa murmured to her sister.
“I’ve been speaking to Kingsley about you,” Hermione said, starting to wonder why she had even bothered if this was the thanks she was going to get. Was this the Bellatrix she would be faced with from now on; moody and uncooperative? She had assumed that once they were free of Voldemort that Bellatrix would be pleased to see her after the immediate aftermath, that she would be back to her usual insanity that Hermione apparently found so endearing. Deciding to make it clear what she had done, Hermione added, “He is confident that you won’t have to serve time in Azkaban, and the same applies for Narcissa and Draco too. Just like you wanted.”
“And what of Lucius?” Narcissa asked, addressing Hermione for the first time, looking at her desperately. Her brown eyes reminded Hermione of Bellatrix so much that her heart skipped a beat, and she had to force herself to focus on the conversation once more.
Hermione nodded, meeting the eyes of the blonde witch, determined not to let herself be intimidated. If she could handle Bellatrix, then she was obviously capable of handling her somewhat tamer sister. “Him too. Kingsley... he’s temporary Minister for Magic, and he wants to speak to you all soon, but right now he wants to see Bellatrix.”
“Fine,” Bellatrix said tonelessly, not looking at all grateful. “Narcissa, I shall see you later,” she added curtly.
“We are going back to the Manor,” Narcissa announced. “You are welcome to join us later on.” She looked only at Bellatrix, ignoring Hermione. As ridiculous as it was, Hermione couldn’t help thinking that she was extremely ungrateful, especially considering the fact that she had served the wrong side for a very long time. Apparently an inability to show gratitude was something that Narcissa had in common with Bellatrix. Miserable cow.
As Hermione walked away with Bellatrix, she asked pointedly, “Does Narcissa know about us?”
“No,” Bellatrix denied. “Though she suspects, I would imagine.”
Hermione sighed at the fact there was yet another thing for her to worry about. Now that the war was over she had wanted to live an entirely stress-free life for a few months at least, but apparently that wasn’t going to happen. “Are you going to tell her?”
“I shall have to, but first I have the more pressing issue of my freedom to deal with,” Bellatrix said sharply.
Anger flared up inside Hermione at the way Bellatrix was treating her after everything she had risked for her. She may lose some friends because of the choice she had made to support Bellatrix, not to mention the fact that over the past months she had put herself in danger by taking chance after chance with Bellatrix, before they were even together. Granted, Bellatrix released her from Black Manor, but considering that she had been the one to abduct Hermione last summer, Hermione wasn’t all that sure she should be given credit for that. Speaking harshly, she said, “Don’t take out your frustration on me! It’s not my fault; I’ve only tried to help you.”
“Then don’t speak to me,” Bellatrix snapped.
“Fine,” Hermione said, making her annoyance clear.
Ignoring her, Bellatrix haughtily walked up the stairs, Hermione trailing behind.
Before she opened the door to the office, Hermione grabbed her arm. There was something that had been irritating her ever since the final confrontation between Voldemort and Harry, and that was the look in Bellatrix’s eyes as she watched the man, the creature, that used to be her Lord. For a brief few minutes there had been a gaze that suggested adoration, and disturbingly it was an expression that Hermione had never before witnessed in the older witch. She could only hope that as Voldemort was truly gone, Bellatrix would begin to move on from him and obsession would diminish entirely. Already she had made a vast amount of progress, but Hermione still had something she wanted to say to Bellatrix.
“Wait,” Hermione said in a hushed voice so that they weren’t overheard.
“I thought you weren’t going to speak to me,” Bellatrix said childishly.
“I wasn’t. “But... well back there with Voldemort,” she said his name, relishing just a little the fact that it was now safe to do so. “For a moment, I thought you were going to choose him over me.”
“I almost did,” Bellatrix disclosed.
Hermione’s face fell.
“But I didn’t,” Bellatrix added, as she opened the door to the office. “And that’s all that matters.”
**
(( CLICK HERE for part 21. ))