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May 1998 - Hermione - Hogwarts

The Great Hall laid in rubble around them. Tables splintered and overturned; house tapestries above tattered and charred; bodies below limp and lifeless. The inevitable Final Battle finally come and gone and the war officially over. Harry Potter emerged victorious over the Dark Lord and the remaining Death Eaters dead, fled, or captured. 

They’d won. After almost twenty years, they had finally won. 

But not without cost.

Even now, Hermione could see the blood stained robes of her students amid the rubble. She’d already pulled out poor Colin Creevey’s body from the rumble earlier and laid him next to Fred Weasley in the foyer. Who knew how many more students remained. Hermione’s hands curled into fists; they shouldn’t have even been here. Child soldiers forced to fight in a war they barely understood. A war that started before they were even born.

But it’s over now. All seven horcruxes were destroyed, and Voldemort could never return. She’d been waiting for this for almost half her life. They both had.

So why wasn’t Bellatrix looking at her?

No, instead she stared across the room at the doorway leading to where the fallen lay. Where her old colleagues and victims lay. In her hand, her wand still drawn at the ready and her frame tense as if she expected those she betrayed to come back from the dead for another round.

“Bella?” Hermione spoke quietly, her hand reaching up to touch Bellatrix’s arm, jerking it back when Bellatrix flinched. “Bella, it’s over. We finally won.”

“Is it?” Bellatrix’s voice cracked low and rough.

People were staring now. They’d been staring for almost half the battle. And now without the duels and explosions distracting them, nothing stopped students, professors, and parents from throwing the full weight of their attention on them. And that weight was heavy.

“Come with me.” 

Hermione snagged Bellatrix’s taunt dueling arm and drug the dazed witch behind her down the hall and into the closest empty classroom. Once in, she threw a locking hex over the door and a silencing spell over the room. When she finally turned her attention back to the other woman, Bellatrix once again wasn’t looking at her, but instead the floor. The tension slowly seeped from her frame, and her curved wand slipped and clattered to the floor.

“I’m sorry, Hermione.” Bellatrix whispered, staring down at the blood on her palms.

“What?” Hermione took Bellatrix’s hands in her own, flipping them over as she inspected them. “Are you okay? Were you hit?”

“No.” Bellatrix’s hands clenched, but Hermione didn’t release them when she pulled away. “I’m just sorry. For all of it. For all these years.”

Hermione’s frown deepened. “What are you talking about?”

Bellatrix choked through a breath and a wet tear fell onto the back of Hermione’s hand. “I know what we agreed to twenty years ago. I know what we fought for, what we did. What I did. But…I just don’t know if you can love me again after you’ve seen the monster I’ve become.”

Furrowing her brow, Hermione’s lips parted slightly as her mind whirled. When the words finally registered, Hermione’s jaw locked and her grip on Bellatrix’s hands tightened painfully.

“How fucking dare you.” Hermione seethed.

Blinking, Bellatrix finally met Hermione’s gaze, her dark eyes confused and searching. “Wha…what?”

“ Again ?” Hermione’s left eye twitched and her nostrils flared. “That implies I ever stopped loving you.”

~~~

June 1978 - Bellatrix - Hogsmeade 

It was a hot, stuffy night in June when they’d met with Albus, Minerva, Lily, and James in the private cellar of Hogs Head. Bellatrix hadn’t wanted to go. She had surprised Hermione with tickets to a muggle theatre to see that new Greece musical film she’d been talking about. But Hermione insisted that they could simply catch a later showing. Even after graduation, Hermione was too much of a teacher’s pet to ever say no to an old professor’s request, and Bellatrix was too much of Hermione’s pet to ever say no to her.

“You’re having a laugh, right?” Firewhiskey burned Bellatrix’s throat as she coughed. “You want me to join that cult?”

“That’s our proposal, yes.” Albus folded his hands in his lap. “Their numbers and movements continue to grow as does their threat. We’d like to have a man, or a woman in your case, on the inside.”

“Yeah, brilliant bloody proposal.” Bellatrix snorted into her glass as she took another long gulp. “Like they’re going to accept me, the known blood traitor, with open arms.”

Minerva shared a glance with Albus. “We were thinking you’d ‘reform’ in a sense.”

At that point Bellatrix stopped drinking. Her glass hit the table with a heavy thud, the alcohol sloshing on to her hand, and her tone chilling. “You want me to break up with Hermione.”

“Not officially.” James quickly cut in. “Just publicly. Maybe phrasing it as if that’s how you ‘saw the light’ so to speak. Sirius said that Lestrange’s proposal offering is still valid until you turn twenty one next month. We know he’s already a Death Eater so you should be able to join no problem.”

Bellatrix pulled back her lips from her gritted teeth. “You want me to accept a proposal from that arrogant, abusive prat? Why not just crucio me right here?”

“It wouldn’t have to be for that long.” James pressed. “Maybe a year?”

“A year?!” Bellatrix’s palms smacked against the table as she stood up. “Do you have any idea what I’ve had to do to separate myself from my family? To keep my sisters and Hermione safe? I’ve burned those bridges for a reason. And now you want me to throw it all away? For what? So you know who is under those ridiculous hoods?”

The audacity of that Potter boy. He acted as if he knew. As if his best friend, Sirius, had had it as bad as her. But he wasn’t the one that left the family for a muggleborn woman. He wasn’t the one whose mother burned her out the family tapestry in a rage.

All the while, Hermione sat quietly next to her, picking at invisible threads on her skirt. Next to her, Lily slipped her hand on top of hers to draw her attention upwards. It was only then Bellatrix realized neither of them had said much the entire night.

“They threatened Petunia, Hermione.” Lily blinked, fighting the swelling tears. “Severus said he’d help keep her safe, but–”

“I don’t trust that snake as far as I can throw him,” James ground out.

Closing her green eyes, Lily shook her head. “They’re targeting muggleborns, Hermione. All of us.”

A breath caught in Hermione’s throat, and Bellatrix’s arm immediately draped along Hermione’s shoulders, pulling the other woman close. Hermione’s blood status was widely known, more so than even Lily’s, due to her record number of OWLs and NEWTs, then subsequent work in the Ministry right after Hogwarts. When her and Bellatrix’s relationship went public in sixth year, most of the slurs her way finally stopped after Bellatrix replied to any she heard with a nasty hex.

But blood status tensions only worsened in the wizarding world. Just yesterday, four muggles died due to an explosion many suspected to be the work of the Death Eaters. They despised muggles and killed them for sports. In their eyes, the only thing worse than a muggle was a muggleborn, a muggle who allegedly stole a wizard’s magic at birth. Complete hippogriff shit to Bellatrix, but very dangerous for people like Lily, Hermione, or any other muggleborn. They’d all be in danger if this Voldemort and his Death Eaters continued to rise in power. 

“Okay.” Bellatrix said softly. “I’ll think about it.”

~~~

“Bellatrix, no you can’t! There must be another way!”

“What am I supposed to do, Hermione? Just stand by and wait for those bloody Death Eaters to blast through our door?”

“We’re not part of the Order. They have no reason to!”

“You work in the ministry! That puts an even larger target on your back!”

Hermione sucked her teeth and threw up her hands. “Then we leave. We can go to France or Australia or some place. I don’t care.”

Bellatrix snorted. “Oh yeah, just run away. Let that Gryffindor courage shine.”

Crossing her arms, Hermione’s jaw clenched. “Don’t you dare try to shame me for wanting to protect you.”

“Then why can’t I protect you ?!” Bellatrix’s nails dug into her palms as she forced herself to take a calming breath. “Look, Hermione, please. This wouldn’t be just about protecting you, but any other muggleborn.”

Narrowing her eyes, Hermione tilted her head as a small, teasing smile tugged the corner of her mouth. “I thought you didn’t care about other muggleborns.”

“Of course, I care–”

“You’ve literally told me countless times that I’m the only muggleborn you give a flying fuck about.”

“Hermione–”

“Oh, God, please don’t tell you’ve been holding a candle for Lily all this time like Severus. What is it with Slytherins and her–”

“No, Hermione, listen.” She grabbed Hermione's shoulders and finally the other witch quieted. “Andy is dating a muggleborn.”

Hermione’s humor blinked into concern. “Your sister?”

“Yes. They have been for a while. His name is Ted.” Gripping Hermione’s shoulders tighter, Bellatrix forced herself to take another calming breath. “And she’s pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” Hermione’s brown eyes bulged. “But she just finished seventh year!”

“Obviously, it wasn’t planned, but they want to keep the baby. Regardless of the blood status.”

With her brow now furrowed, Hermione worked her jaw several times before she spoke. “But your parents… won’t they–”

“If I were still in the family, I could protect her.” Bellatrix’s calm voice cracked with fear. “One of the Black sisters can be disowned, but not two. Especially not if we want to keep Narcissa safe.”

Hermione’s hands curled around Bellatrix’s waist, holding her and speaking softly. “How far along is she?”

“A month? Maybe two? I just got the letter yesterday.”

Soft fingers touched her cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Bellatrix closed her eyes and leaned into the warm touch. “I just wanted one more night. One more night with you before everything changed.”

“That’s why you bought the movie tickets to Grease…”

With a weak laugh, Bellatrix shrugged. “I’d much rather just take you to Greece, but you always love such muggle novelty.”

Those fingers on her cheek slid to her neck to pull her close. Their lips touched with a sigh, and their arms wrapped tighter around each other. Usually their kisses were rough and passionate, lust guiding and building them until they laid breathless and spent next to each other on the bed. But this one was different. Gentle and full of love. A goodbye.

“Okay.” Hermione whispered, her words ghosting along Bellatrix’s lips as their foreheads leaned against each other. “Do what you must. But don’t ever forget to come back home to me after this war is over, okay?”

“Of course.” Bellatrix offered a small smile, her fingers tangling into Hermione’s curls. “I love you, Hermione.”

“And I love you too, Bella.”

~~~

October 1979 - Hermione - Tonks’ Residence

Hermione tried to keep her distance. She really did, but as the days drew into weeks, then months, then seasons, her restlessness only grew. She started to visit Andromeda and Ted, offering to help the young couple with their move to a tiny home and company as they tried to find a life beyond their family to start a new one. They didn’t talk about Bellatrix. At least not directly. Whenever Andromeda mentioned her sister or Hermione mentioned her ex, their smiles slowly turned sad and silence would fall between them. 

On occasion, the only other disowned Black would visit. Things seemed brighter when he and his barking laughter was around. He’d bring updates from the Order and research needs for Hermione which she eagerly took, especially now that she’d resign from her Ministry job. Sirius would return in a day or two to touch base to find several rolls of parchment waiting for him, then jest with her that the Sorting Hat really screwed the pooch with her Gryffindor sorting over Ravenclaw. Hermione would simply smile and laugh with him, until he’d mention Bellatrix and Hermione shut down completely. 

He didn’t know. And Hermione refused to tell him; refused to tell anyone. Only four people outside of herself and Bellatrix knew, and it would remain that way. Sirius didn’t pry much further than that though. He’d take that as a sign to leave, only to restart the cycle again in a few days.

Lily announced her own pregnancy a few months later. While not ideal timing with the war and the couple’s rising standing among the Order, they were over the moon with happiness. Sirius too; even pre-ordering his first broom. Frank and Alice Longbottom soon announced they were expecting as well, both in similar situations but so thrilled to know a Potter and a Longbottom would attend Hogwarts together, likely in the same house if James and Alice had anything to say about it.

Throughout it all, Hermione smiled best she could, but the pregnancy glow, the hormonal spikes, and constant reassurance of a partner grated slowly against her, leaving her heart raw and bleeding each time. She was alone; all to simply attempt to give those children the best world to be raised in. But they didn’t know it. And she’d prefer it that way - one pitying glance form Lily was already too much for her to handle.

Once the air swung sunny and warm and the leaves grew green and plush, the next generation of Blacks entered the world. Nymphadora Tonks. She was everything they’d been sacrificing for embodied. And she was perfect.

While had her own tiny flat in London, Hermione essentially lived at the cottage through Nymphadora’s first year, essentially as a live-in nanny for Andromeda and Ted as they tried to figure out their relationship and identity as a new couple in a toppling wizarding world. At least once a week, Hermione would suggest the couple try a new restaurant or take a walk in the park together while she would watch baby Nymphadora. Andromeda always agreed, seemingly understanding that Hermione needed it as much as she did.

The days shortened and leaves started to wither, plunging their little village in throws of red, yellow, and orange. A quick burst of beauty before winter winds and chills submerged them in darkness and confined them to their warm homes; well at least that was the logic Hermione used to get Andromeda and Ted to go out for the night and leave her with just a few month old Nymphadora. Both notoriously shit at wards and ruins, Hermione volunteered to ward the small cottage herself with enough protection spells that any Death Eater and likely Voldemort himself would need days to break. Any Death Eater but one.

“Is that my niece?”

Hermione’s grin only widened and shifted to show their new visitor the babbling bundle in her arms, but then faltered slightly. Bellatrix looked different. They’d see each other every few weeks, if they were lucky. Each time Hermione saw her lover, she’d notice only deeper bags under her eyes and gaunter skin along her chin bones. Neither of them ever doubted that Bellatrix would have any issue playing both sides, but neither were expected for how long or intense the ordeal would become. As each day ticked away, so did Hermione’s hope that this would be a quick war, despite the arrogant reassurances of Sirius and James.  

“She has your eyes,” Hermione murmured. 

Wrapping her arms around Hermione’s waist, Bellatrix nuzzled her nose into her lover’s soft cheek, her breath hot and warm against her skin.

“Ah, it looks like they’ve already changed to yours.” Bellatrix’s smile only widened when little Nymphadora babbled up at her as she gummed her tiny fist. “A metamorphmagus. Bloody brilliant. I’d say Andy did it just to spite our father if I thought she could, especially with all his talk that muggleborns pollute the magical line. Morgana’s tits, I can’t wait to see how my parents react when they hear the news.”

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh and lean into the warm embrace, even if her heart ached. God, how much she wanted this to be her happy little family beyond just this short moment. But she pushed it down.

“Would you like to hold her?” Hermione twisted within Bellatrix's arm so the infant rested between them. 

Nodding, Bellatrix slid her arms around the baby with purple hair fading into red, and her smile only grew. They really did look so alike, even with the changing features. Both their eyes had the Black spirit. Little Dora would be a fighter, just like her aunt.

Bellatrix’s eyes clouded as her arms tightened as she pulled her ever closer, and her arm moved to cradle the head. The movement tugged up Bellatrix’s black sleeve, and Hermione’s swelling heart leapt to her throat when she saw the black skull and curling snake on her forearm for the first time. His mark. So Bellatrix had been successful in becoming Death Eater and proving herself to Voldemort. That was good news for the Order, even if it filled Hermione’s chest with dread. 

“Bella,” Hermione whispered and her fingers grazed Bellatrix’s bicep, unable to go any closer to the mark. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, pet,” Bellatrix’s gaze didn’t leave the baby girl cooing in her arms, but Hermione knew her better.

Hermione’s hands cradled Bellatrix’s cheeks, urging her to finally meet her gaze. “Bella, please.”

With a heavy sigh, the other witch finally looked up, her eyes more weary than any other time Hermione had ever seen. Even when her parents kicked her out, when she couldn’t afford to buy robes from graduation without her parent’s funds, when Hermione learned her parents refused to move past their muggle views of sexuality. They’d gone through so much together, and each blow seemed worse than the next.

“It’s just getting to me. The things they say, Hermione.” Bellatrix shuddered, holding her niece closer to her chest. “They want to hunt muggles for sport, start pureblood breeding programs, experiment on muggleborns. It’s just awful… so fucking awful. I don’t…” Bellatrix worked her jaw before closing her eyes. “I don’t know if I’m cut out for this.”

“Oh, Bella.” Hermione pulled their foreheads flushed, remaining steady against her trembles. “We can get you out–”

“No.” The word choked out with a desperate, almost feral energy. “No, I have to. I couldn’t live with knowing this and not doing anything.”

“But you’ve already done so much.” Hermione whispered.

“I can do more.” Bellatrix lifted an arm to hold Hermione’s face close to her. “For you. For this little girl. For them all.”

A weak sob broke through Hermione’s throat, her hands gripping Bellatrix’s face tighter as her tears started to run down her fingers and wrist. “Be careful Bells; you’re starting to sound awfully like a Gryffindor.”

A surprised laugh shook Bellatrix out of her depressive spiral. “Funny you should mention that, pet. You’ve actually rubbed off on me more than I realized, far beyond some ridiculous class traits.”

When Hermione only frowned, Bellatrix pulled away just enough to slip her wand out and utter ‘ expecto patronum’ . White wisps of light illuminated her soft, watching smile and the spell took the form of not her normal slithering serpent, but a bouncing mammal, and Hermione’s heart threatened to burst within her chest.

“Your patronus changed?” Hermione’s happy tears mixed with her sad ones as she cast her own patronus and another otter appeared to happily scamper towards the other in elated recognition.

“It seems I’ve missed you more than I realized.” Bellatrix shrugged, watching the otters tumble into each other and yip excitedly with a growing smile. “Which is such a shame. I miss my little snake.”

Hermione snorted. “You know otters eat snakes, right?”

Bellatrix’s smile turned into a cat-like grin. “Oh, I know, pet. My favorite nights involve you eating out this snake.”

She gestured towards herself with a flourish, and Hermione couldn’t help but laugh and press her lips against hers. These past several months had been hard on both of them in ways neither would fully understand, but in moments like these, they both remembered why it was all worth it.

~~~

October 1981 - Hermione - The London Flat  

Morning light barely broke over the horizon when Hermione awoke to the roaring of her floo. She grabbed her wand, preparing to fight if necessary, but then she spotted the dark, curled up ball on her living room floor.

“Bella? Is that you?” She cast on the lights, but her frown only deepened when she saw that it was her. “What are you doing here? You know it’s not safe.”

When Bellatrix finally looked up, Hermione gasped quietly at the dark bags under her eyes and the soot over her face and skirt. Her usual artfully done wild curls were now frizzy and matted. Scorch marks dotted along her corset and pleats of her skirt, and something dark stained her sleeves. Did she fight her way here?

But most concerning of all was that look on her face. That look of fear and guilt and unbelievable sadness Hermione hadn’t seen on Bellatrix since before her father died. The look Bellatrix only had when her hard defensive built walls finally broke.

“He told me he was going for the Longbottoms. I warned Frank and Alice. I… I didn’t know he’d change his mind and go after the Potters instead. Oh Merlin, James and Lily… they’re dead, Hermione. And it’s all my fault.”

James and Lily were dead? But how? They’d gone into hiding. She didn’t even know where they were. Only Sirius, their secret keeper, knew unless… Oh God, what about their poor boy, Harry? He was barely a year old. How could Sirius do that to them?

“And Frank and Alice… I think they thought they could help? I–I don’t know what they were thinking, but they got captured. I walked in on Barty and Rodolphus torturing them and–” Her face folded and she turned to dry heave into the fireplace. Her whole frame started to shake, but when Hermione placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, Bellatrix flinched away. Greasy, dark curls cascaded over her face as she hung her head. “I-I tried to stop them, but I was too late.”

Bellatrix didn’t need to say anything more for Hermione to understand. Rodolphus Lestrange’s preference of the Cruciatus Curse was well known, which Barty Crouch Junior likely shared. They’d likely cast it on Frank and Alice Longbottom until their minds broke. But how could they have been caught? They were two of the best Aurors Hermione knew. And Neville - oh God their precious little boy? Another orphan created on the same night.

But that didn’t matter. Not yet anyway. Bellatrix needed her here, right now.

“Oh, God, Bellatrix.” Hermione knelt down on the ground next to her, and held open her arms. “Come here.”

The dark witch barreled into Hermione's arms, burrowing her dirty face into Hermione’s neck. She smelled of ash, blood, and potpourri, but even after all this time, she still gripped on Hermione with the same veracity and desperation. This was still her Bella. Her soft witch with a hard shell that loved too deeply for her own good. And Hermione loved her for her.

~~~

November 1981 - Hermione - The London Flat  

“Like hell I will.” Bellatrix seethed.

“Wait, Bella, let’s just remain calm.” Hermione clasped her lover’s shoulder both in an attempt to soothe and restrain if needed. She’d been doing that a lot the past few days, even after she started hiding the Daily Prophet from Bellatrix who would become enraged at the unsubstantiated slop Rita Skeeter penned about her.  “I’m sure Albus has a reason.”

“What possible fucking reason could he have for me to go before the Wizengamot and tell them I participated in the torture of Alice and Frank?” Bellatrix turned her wild black eyes towards the bearded wizard next to them, her nostrils flaring. “Don’t tell me I didn’t live up to your double agent standards. What was two bloody fucking years not enough?”

“Of course not, Bellatrix. Your performance and information have exceeded even our wildest expectations.” Albus slumped back further in his chair as mindlessly twirled a spoon in his tea cup. A tea cup that he himself brought with him when he invited himself over into Hermione’s flat without warning, as if he knew Hermione wouldn’t have let him in otherwise. Bellatrix had been through hell and Hermione just wanted to protect her, but as usual, her wants went unheard and unmet. “You fled the scene before myself or Moody were able to capture you, so to them, you’re still a faithful Death Eater. We’ll need that trust from them intact for when he returns.”

“He?” Hermione asked slowly, blinking at the tired old wizard as her hand tightened on Bellatrix’s shoulder. “Voldemort’s dead though.”

His eyes remained weary behind his half moon glasses and he offered a thin smile. “Not quite.”

“What the hell do you fucking mean?” Bellatrix spat. “Of course, he’s bloody dead. We felt it through the mark. That’s why most of the other Death Eaters scattered.”

The ‘we’ and ‘other Death Eaters’ scraped uncomfortably against Hermione’s ears. She still tensed whenever she caught sight of that vile, yet fading, mark on Bellatrix’s forearm. It had been two years, though. Bellatrix just hadn’t had the time yet to separate herself from that. She just needed time. And now that Voldemort was dead, she’d have all the time in the world.

But then Albus shattered her world all over again.

“Do you know what a horcrux is?”

~~~

January 1983 - Bellatrix - Countryside Cottage

In total, Bellatrix only had to spend a few weeks in Azkaban before most of the hype died down, and Albus was able to smuggle her out of her isolation cell, but without windows and only dementors over head to keep her company, Bellatrix would have sworn she’d been in there for years. When Albus dropped Bellatrix off with Hermione, she struggled to stand on her own or even stay in the present as the screams and sobs of Alice and Frank still rang in her ears and stabbed painful pins into her chest.

Hermione sold her little flat and purchased a small cottage in the countryside for the two of them. There, she cared for Bellatrix. Gently bathing her, coaxing her to eat, and soothing the nightmares she woke them both up with. Loving, sweet, caring Hermione, and the weak, pathetic, trembling Bellatrix. Merlin, she fucking hated it.

As soon as she could, she started her research. Their cottage lacked a library beyond a few overflowing shelves, but Hermione fetched whatever book she requested, even venturing down to Knockturn Alley a time or two when needed, before joining her at the desk to take notes alongside her. However, unlike Hermione, Bellatrix eventually became restless. She began casting against test dummies in their yard, lashing against trees, and shooting curses harmlessly in the sky. She needed action, to move, to do something. Anything.

And then finally, Bellatrix found the lead she was looking for.

“You can’t just go off on your own.” Hermione followed Bellatrix as she stomped through the house, throwing whatever she thought she’d need into her charmed traveling satchel. “What if someone sees you?”

“No one will be looking for me. I’m in an inescapable cell, remember? Besides, I know enough glamor charms to not be recognized.”

“At least let me go with you.” Her brown eyes shone with such pathetic worry that curled Bellatrix’s lip.

“I don’t need you to take care of me.” Bellatrix spun away on her heel towards their potion cabinet and yanked it open. “I was doing just fine on my own before this.”

She meant before Azkaban, before this stupid agreement to be a Death Eater spy, but Hermione flinched as if she meant before them. Fuck, why did she always say the wrong thing?

“I never meant you couldn’t.” Hermione’s throat bobbed, but she remained on Bellatrix’s tail. “I just meant that I’ll miss you.”

“Then get a cat.” Glass vials clinked with each heavy step as she tightened the satchel close and cast a cushioning charm on them. “Or better yet, go on a date with that Ministry woman Molly and Arthur keep trying to set you up with. Amelia Bones, isn’t it?”

Bellatrix had avoided killing anyone her two years as a Death Eater, but that would all change if anyone ever tried to make a pass at Hermione that she knew about. She gritted her teeth as she tried to push that jealousy down. Hermione wasn’t hers. She deserved so much more than some worthless, pathetic hag like Bellatrix who would only hurt her if she got too close. The sooner Hermione realized that, the better for her. Sure, it may break Bellatrix in the process, but if it made Hermione happy then so be it.

“Please Bella,” Hermione whispered, and Bellatrix’s eyes burned. “I just got you back.”

Only then did Bellatrix look at her. Her beautiful, brave, brilliant Hermione looked so small, sad, and scared.

“I’m sorry.” Bellatrix dared to touch her fingers against Hermione’s. “But I can’t stay here confined to our home forever. Voldemort’s coming back, and I needed to find these horcruxes and destroy them before then. That’s my purpose now.” Closing her eyes, she clenched her jaw and managed a shaky breath. “It’s not fair to you to give up so much of your life when you still have so much you can do with it. You need to let me go.”

Let her go and move on. Be with someone who makes her happy rather than anxiously lie awake at night. Someone she can talk to her friends about. Someone she can start the family with she so desperately craved.

“Okay,” Hermione whispered, tightening her fingers with Bellatrix’s as Bellatrix’s heart shattered in her chest. “But I’m waiting for you. For as ever long as it takes.”

~~~

February 1984 - Hermione - Countryside Cottage

The months passed slowly and their time together appeared in pockets between Bellatrix’s research and following searches. Hermione would help where she could, but there was only so much she could do considering she knew remarkably little about Tom Riddle. Mainly her job consisted of brewing potions Bellatrix may need for both glamour and stealth purposes, researching and translating old ruins of any dark magic or ceremony involving a horcrux, and creating portkeys for Bellatrix to have on hand in case she ever needed a quick escape. Of course, all this piled on top of her Ministry job and the occasional dinners with the Weasleys and the Tonks gave her very little time for herself; not that she minded though.

Occasionally, Albus would deliver a letter for Bellatrix which Hermione would place in a pile for Bellatrix to eagerly read whenever she returned. Usually her outings only took two weeks at most before she returned for just as long. Those were the times Hermione cherished the most even if her job and social life suffered because of it. Andromeda always seemed to understand when Hermione would disappear every few weeks, and even eventually slipped her a business card to a muggle therapist if Hermione “ever wanted to talk.” Molly was less understanding though. Once she threatened to have her mad house of children descend on her cottage only to discover that Hermione built her wards as if they were still in war time. When asked, Hermione simply shrugged and told her one could never be too careful. Thankfully, she never brought it up again.

Despite the near two and half year mark of Voldemort’s fall, Hermione still inferred hesitancy from her friends to want to talk to her about it. They never mentioned Bellatrix or her trial, only sending her long looks Hermione pretended she didn’t see whenever the Dark Lord or one of his followers were mentioned. Their pity prickled against her skin and burned into her bones, but she remained silent. The longer she remained poor, pathetic Hermione, the less chance they’d ever suspect Bellatrix’s empty cell.

While laying in bed late one night after an evening with the Weasley’s and Arthur discussing the latest findings at work about the discovery of one Death Eater’s misuse of muggle explosives and Molly’s long pitying looks from her, Hermione wondered just how much more of this she could take. Already six years she’d lost. When would her and Bellatrix finally be free?

Then her window opened and a bright white otter scurried on to the foot of her, casting bright light across the room and warming Hermione’s feet where it lay. Quickly, Hermione pushed herself into a seated position and shuffled forward, eager to feel the heat and happiness radiating off her beloved’s patronus.

“ I made it in and out of that seaside cave in one piece. That twat had an army of Inferi guarding the damn thing. But apparently I’m the second one to find it; Regulus got to the locket first and switched it with a fake. I know I should be mad, but I can’t stop laughing. Who would have thought my little cousin would see the light before Sirius? Hopefully, he’s now haunting that mangy mutt in Azkaban.

“ I should be back soon. Albus thinks he may have a lead on some ring, but I want to do some more digging on this locket first.

“Maybe when I return, we can take a trip for a few days? Preferably a beach with less Inferi clawing at our heels. And enough privacy for me to claw a thing or two off you, hm?

“I love you, pet. Talk soon.”

The otter patronus vanished, but the warmth in Hermione’s chest lasted for the rest of the night.

~~~

November 1985 - Bellatrix -  Countryside Cottage

After all this time, that old coot of a house elf, Kreacher, had been carrying around a bit of Voldemort’s soul with him around his neck as a keepsake of Regulus. Not that she could blame him. Regulus had been so loyal in the beginning, a perfect little baby Death Eater. How he’d become disillusioned enough to turn against his idol escaped Bellatrix, but considering Sirius leapt the more considerable distance of Gryffindor to traitor and mass muggle murderer, she rationalized that the Black boys were just irrational. 

Retrieving the locket required a visit to Grimmauld Place, somewhere Bellatrix actively avoided before this double agent mess. The old Black family house had gone primarily untouched as Narcissa remained the only Black descendant not dead, disowned, or detained, and with a young son of her own to watch, she didn’t care enough to deal with the property, especially with a house elf there to take care of it. Unfortunately for her, Kreacher’s advanced age dwindled his mind, and now rather than cleaning or tending, he stumbled around the house muttering and staring at the family tapestry. The same tapestry where Bellatrix’s portrait stood prominently between the burnt patch of dear Andy and the connecting line to Rodolphus Lestrange. For the few brief moments she stared at it, she considered burning out his face as well, but held off on the off chance anyone noticed before needed. But as soon as she could, she’d burn off everyone but her sisters and Regulus.

But she had the locket now. The damn alleged Slytherin heirloom danced in her hand at the end of the chain as she twirled it between her fingers and whistled. Merlin, Bellatrix hadn’t whistled before a day in her life. Muggles seemed to do it when elated in those films Hermione’s showed her, and she never thought it fitting until now. So much time and finally, finally , she had one of the horcruxes she’d been looking for. One step closer to ending all of this.

She sauntered up their - no, Hermione’s - little cottage with a whistle on her lips and a horcrux twirling in her hand from the portkey located in the back garden shed. Inside the cottage, she found her beautiful partner with her brow furrowed adorably as she hunched over a recipe book and her wand flicked at a spoon stirring in a pot on a stove. The locket clattered on the kitchen table and wrapped her arms around Hermione, pulling her close to her chest as her nose burrowed in Hermione’s frizzy mane, savoring the familiar scent that let her know she was finally home. 

“Bella!” Hermione squeaked, twisting in Bellatrix’s arms to face her. “You weren’t supposed to be home until tomorrow.”

“Mmmhmm,” Bellatrix purred, nosing Hermione’s hair line before pressing a long kiss against her forehead. “I thought I’d have to ply Kreacher for information, but he actually had the locket in his possession.”

Hermione frowned. “It was on him? But all the texts say that a horcrux’s corrupt whoever is closest with darkness…”

“Trust me, pet. Just one look at Grimmauld Place will show you the evidence of a horcrux. One can only hope Kreacher regains himself without it.”

“Still,” Hermione’s lip pouted as her fingers wound further in Bellatrix’s dark curls, “I hate the idea of him all alone in that big house.”

“He’s fine, pet, trust me.” Bellatrix pressed a kiss to neck as she worked her way lower. “Need I remind you of someone else who has been rather lonely…”

A soft sigh escaped Hermione’s lips as she turned boneless beneath Bellatrix’s touch, arching closer to it. Nimble fingers slid to shirt buttons, quickly undoing them to expose the warm flesh Bellatrix delighted in as her hand slid under the collar to palm a perky awaiting breast. Morgana, how Bellatrix missed those perfect tits.

But an owl tapping at the window quickly pulled her object of fun and adoration away from her.

“Sorry, that’s the Weasley’s owl.” Hermione wriggled and slipped out from underneath her, leaving Bellatrix cold and wanting.

“I can’t say those are words I ever expected to be part of our foreplay,” Bellatrix sighed, smiling slightly when Hermione waved her off. She crossed her arm and leaned her hip against the kitchen counter, watching her beloved read the parchment and absentmindedly stroked the feathery head Weasley owl next to her. 

“They’ve invited me to dinner tomorrow.” Hermione sighed and scrawled out a quick denial for the owl to return with. “Another work outing with some Ministry officials they think I could benefit from.”

“Ministry officials, hm?” Bellatrix snatched the letter off the table. “Ah, no, you mean Amelia Bones will be there.” Bellatrix grinned and cocked her head to look at her partner shooing the owl out of the window with her response. “Should I be concerned, pet? She’s a bit older than you, but I’m sure she can put that experience to good use if you ask.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “As if that would ever happen.”

“Molly seems to think so.” Bellatrix smoothed the letter out in front of her, noting the familiarity in the tone. Since when had the two women grown so close? “She seems quite intent on making it happen. Has been for nearly three years now.”

“Since we moved here.” Hermione’s voice sounded oddly detached, and Bellatrix frowned. “Perhaps it’s time we move elsewhere. That or kill her.”

That cloying shock and suffocating dread present in Azkaban filled Bellatrix for the first time in their little cottage. “What?”

Hermione’s bright eyes clouded with darkness and a disdain etched over her face. “I’ve told her time and time again that I wasn’t interested, so what other alternative is there?” Her voice chilled to a heartless vibrato as she stared out the window towards the Weasley Burrow in the far distance. “They think I’m lonely, weak, and still haunted from the war I barely participated in. They think I’m some silly feeble girl who didn’t give up everything all these years so they could live their pathetic lives in peace, and I’m tired of it.”

Watching her partner carefully, Bellatrix slowly stood up and reached for her wand. “Hermione…”

Those clouded dark eyes snapped back towards Bellatrix, and they flashed when Hermione sneered. “And you. How dare you think I’d even be tempted by some old hag. By anyone. There will never be anyone else. You are mine, Bellatrix Black. And I will never let you go.”

Her heart stuttered when finally placed the evil tilth to Hermione’s voice: Voldemort. Searching for the locket she’d tossed on the table, she soon found it in Hermione’s claw-like grip. With a quick spell and wave of her wand, the cursed locket shot from Hermione’s hands and into the other room, hitting the floor with a low clatter. Holding her breath, Bellatrix watched Hermione who simply stared back with wide, pleading eyes.

“I… I’m sorry.” Hermione swallowed, and hid her trembling hands by crossing her arms over her chest and stumbling back into her chair. “I knew the horcrux would have an effect on those who touched it, but I just assumed it would take more time. After all this time of searching, I just wanted a quick look, but I didn’t realize… I’m sorry.”

Bellatrix nodded. Neither had she. Especially since she had held the locket for longer, but perhaps her familiarity with Riddle softened it? That or it could sense Hermione’s muggleborn status and lashed out. How alive was this thing?

“It’s okay.” Forcing herself to take a deep breath and shake off the tension, Bellatrix slid into the chair across from Hermione. “I understand. But… did you mean it?”

Biting her lip, Hermione hesitated. “Yes, but not that extreme. I’m annoyed with Molly and Arthur, but I’m not going to kill them. I just wish they’d listen and trust me when they say I’m not interested, rather than think they know better. I’m fine.” Her throat bobbed as her shoulders hunched further in on herself and her voice grew small. “As for the other part… I-I could let you go, if that’s what you wanted.”

Hermione had always been a shit liar, but only when asked directly. Otherwise, she could evade, misdirect, and dodge most conversations to safer territory. Bellatrix thought after all these years, she’d mastered navigating through that, but in moments like these, she realized just how much she’d missed. If it weren’t for the dark influence, Hermione likely would have continued suffering in silence till she actually did snap. How had Bellatrix missed it?

“Hey.” Bellatrix scooted to the edge of her chair so their knees brushed and she slid her hands along Hermione’s thigh. “I don’t want to go...”

Hermione remained tense and her long inhale shuddered. “But?”

“You need to be honest and tell me these things.” Bellatrix slowly reached towards Hermione's cheek and brushed a tear away with her thumb. “You’re a part of this as much as I am. I want to be able to support you as much as you do me, okay?”

At that, the rigidity finally seeped out of Hermione’s form, and she slumped into Bellatrix. Forgoing her wand, Bellatrix scooped her arms around her, pulling her into her lap to hold her even closer. To her delight, Hermione’s warm hands snaked beneath Bellatrix’s traveling cloak and tangled in the ends of her wild hair and strings to her corset. With a happy sigh, Bellatrix pressed a firm kiss to Hermione’s temple, letting her mind loose itself in the familiar comforting scent of her beloved.

“And for what it’s worth,” Bellatrix breathed against Hermione’s ear, “you’re mine too.”

~~~

March 1987 - Hermione - Countryside Cottage

After her experience with the locket, Hermione kept a wide berth from the locket, even owling Albus in a plea to safeguard it while Bellatrix was away as she didn’t trust herself around it. It was in the owls back and forth that opening up a safe in Gringotts became an option, one that Bellatrix jumped at.

“That cup! That bloody cup!” Bellatrix slammed her fist against the table. “Fuck, why didn’t I think of it sooner?”

Hermione frowned. “What on earth are you talking about?”

Bellatrix fisted her hands into her wild curls. “A few months before he fell, Voldemort asked me to store a few things of his in the Black family vault. Mostly just gold, a few cursed objects and artifacts, but one was a golden cup believed to have been Helga Hufflepuff’s.”

“And you think that’s a horcrux?”

“Why else would he care about a bloody Hufflepuff trinket?” Bellatrix groaned. “Fucking Morgana’s tits, I was so close to it. How the hell am I supposed to get into the Black family vault now?”

Hermione chewed her lip. “Maybe Narcissa?”
“Absolutely not.” Bellatrix shook her head, ever protective over her youngest sister. “I’m not bringing her into this. There has to be another way. Hmm, I wonder…”

Immediately, Hermione recognized the cogs working behind Bellatrix’s dark eyes, and she shook her head. “No, no, no. Absolutely not. You are not about to try to break into Gringotts. That’s suicide.”

Bellatrix snorted. “Not if I plan far enough in advance.”

“Bella.” Hermione pinched her nose and managed a calming breath. “You know what, fine. Fine, you can plan whatever kind of Gringotts heist you want, but first, you have to figure out how to destroy these damn things. The last thing I want is for multiple of these horcruxes haunting this house.”

With a roll of her eyes, Bellatrix finally relented. “Fine. How long should that even take anyways?”

~~~

June 1989 - Bellatrix - Countryside Cottage

Apparently figuring out how to destroy a horcrux took a very long time.

According to the texts, to destroy a horcrux, it had to be damaged beyond repair, but unfortunately, the texts didn’t go much further than that. Any spell Bellatrix cast upon the locket only bounced off of it or left so little damage that it disappeared in a few minutes. The one time she thought she almost accomplished it with a frenzy of dark curses, the locket retaliated, nearly strangling her the process. She’d locked it in a box beneath their garden shed after that, choosing to wait until Hermione’s research brought more direction until her next attempt.

That direction came several months later when Hermione decoded an old ruin referencing basilisk’s fang and venom could successfully destroy a horcrux. They’d be free of that dreaded locket if they could only get their hands on a basilisk fang. If only the ministry hadn’t hunted them down several decades ago to essential extinction.

A few fangs and vials of venom still floated around the wizard’s dark market, but Bellatrix struggled to make much progress in those circles without reliance on her name or reputation. Bellatrix Lestrange was locked in Azkaban after all. After so many months, she eventually turned her attention back towards hunting down other horcruxes, desperate to feel any sort of accomplishment in this impossible mission.

But life wasn’t all terrible and fraught with failures. Especially not on nights like this. Nights when she lay in bed with Hermione against her chest in front of a crackling fire, both naked with a sweaty sheen and barely an inch of space between them as they slowly recovered from their happy but eager reunion after Bellatrix’s nearly three week outing. When Hermione melted against her kisses or touch like she had tonight, Bellatrix wondered if she’d ever be able to leave their cottage again.

“Albus owled me recently.”

“Oh, really?” Bellatrix’s fingers drew circles around Hermione’s pebbled nipple, delighting in how the other witch would writhe and turn breathless under her touch. “Will I be getting a companion for my next trip?”

“Ah–” Hermione groaned, blushing deeper when Bellatrix chuckled in her ear. “No, no. He offered me a job. He wants me to teach Ancient Ruins.”

“Oh, Professor Granger,” Bellatrix nibbled on Hermione’s ear lobe. “I have to admit, that is a fantasy of mine.”

“Bella…” Hermione arched back against Bellatrix's chest, curving her neck to slide her teeth along her lover’s dimpled cheek. “I want to take the job. Is that… okay?”

Was it okay? No. It meant they would have even less time together. It meant more of their lives would be put on hold. It meant the Order was taking one more thing from them. 

But Hermione wanted to do it. And who was Bellatrix to deny her.

“Of course.”

~~~

September 1991 - Hermione - Hogwarts

“I met the Potter boy today. And Narcissa’s boy. Both so much like their fathers - absolute little shits. They each act as if they have so much to prove, but forget they are only first-years. I have a feeling they’ll be keeping myself and the other professors quite busy over the next seven years. 

“I’ll keep my eye on both of them though. I owe you, Narcissa, and Lily that much.”

~~~

January 1992 - Hermione - Hogwarts

“Harry?” Hermione held her wand higher, casting her wand light against the young boy who spun back frightened at his name. 

“Professor.” He swayed on his feet as he tried to muster up a bravado, similar to how James did his first year. “I was just…”

“Relax, Harry, I’m not here to take house points away even if you are out of bed and in a forbidden corridor.” She smirked and the boy finally relaxed. “Just why are you out of bed anyhow?”

“I just… I wanted to see my parents.” 

He nodded towards the mirror behind him when Hermione frowned. She stepped closer and recognized the gold wrought mirror instantly. Not for the ornate engraving or design, but the reflection back at her. 

A reflection of herself and Bellatrix, but her Bellatrix. Not the one forced to fight in this long war, hide away from the rest of the world, or spy for a greater cause. The free one who used to drag her down the streets of muggle London and Diagon Alley because she found the most trivial thing that would make Hermione smile. The Bellatrix who loved so fiercely but would perish at the thought of anyone knowing. The Bellatrix she loved and missed every day.

And in her arms, a baby girl. One with Bellatrix’s black curly hair and Hermione’s light brown eyes. A happy girl who only knew love, and would only hear about the war in textbooks. Their little family. The little family Hermione has ached for since the first saw little Nymphadora in Bellatrix’s arms.

“Ah.” She pushed down the growing lump in her throat. “You’ve discovered the Mirror of Erised.”

Harry blinked and frowned. “The what?”

“It’s enhanced. It shows us the most deep and… desperate desires of our hearts. The ones we know or fear could never come true.”

“Oh.” Harry deflated like a popped balloon. 

“You see your parents, don’t you?”

Harry nodded. “They’re standing right next to me.” After a short pause, he added on in a near whisper. “Almost like they’re proud of me.”

“Harry…” Hermione placed her hand on his shoulder. “I promise you, your parents are proud of you. They have been since the day you were born. They spoke of little else that first year.”

“You knew my parents?” Harry spun and fixed those wide green eyes on her. Lily’s eyes. “What were they like?”

“Fearless,” Hermione replied with a small sigh. “Great friends. Lily was the only other muggleborn in Gryffindor. For several years actually. We helped each other anyway we could. I don’t know where I would have ended up without her.”

She blinked against the welling tears. Especially as she thought of the nights she spent with Lily, huddled under blankets behind drawn bed curtains, discussing their family, their crushes, her sexuality in whispers despite the silencing charm around them. The nights when Lily assured her she could still have a family even with another woman. Even if that other woman happened to wild hair, pureblood status and Slytherin robes.

“And James, well, he would follow his friends and Lily to the ends of the earth then throw himself off the edge if he knew it would bring a smile to their face. He loved so fiercely. They both did.” Hermione shook her head as the joy of memories faded into the pain of grief. “I promise they would be nothing but proud of who you’ve become.”

The young boy nodded, only looking slightly convinced. She should tell Albus to move the mirror sooner, especially if they wanted to save Harry from any sleepless nights he may spend in front of it. Or herself.

“What do you see, Professor? In the mirror.”

The question caught her off guard, and Hermione barely managed to school her expression, especially when Bellatrix lifted the ginning dark hair child in her arms and blew a raspberry against her cheek as she squirmed and squealed in delight. All while Hermione next to her rolled her eyes but wrapped an arm around Bellatrix’s waist and smoothed down the hair of their giggling baby girl.

“Myself.” Hermione licked her dry lips. “Sitting in a comfy chair with a large cup of tea and a thick book.”

~~~

June 1993 - Hermione - Hogwarts 

“So bad news - I was briefly petrified. But good news - you don’t need to look for a basilisk fang anymore. And I think Harry may have also destroyed a horcrux with it? God, this boy is literally as reckless as James but miraculously has the wit of Lily. I lose track of him for two seconds, and he’s off defeating some remnant of Voldemort again. I don’t know if I can handle another five years with him and not go insane.”

~~~

July 1993 - Hermione - Countryside Cottage

“Sirius Black has escaped.”

They were supposed to have the summer together. Two complete months after Bellatrix’s firm insistence that someone needed to keep an eye on Hermione to ensure no lasting effects of her petrification went unnoticed. That and to have each other’s back for the horcrux destruction. They would finally feel like a couple again regardless for how briefly, but of course, Sirius Black of all people would ruin it. 

Hermione’s heart stuttered. “Does he know you weren’t in Azkaban?”

“I don’t know.” Bellatrix’s jaw clenched. “I didn’t even know he was a Death Eater. None of us did.”

Uneasy panic and grief curl around Hermione’s heart. A secret agent just like Bellatrix but for the wrong side. All the times she had almost slipped about Bellatrix’s true identity, all the times she almost ruined this for them. And now he could ruin it all over again.

“You think he’s going to go after Harry?”

“That’s what I would do. It’s the only way to finish the Dark Lord’s last act.”

Hermione closed her name at Bellatrix’s mention of Voldemort as his title rather than his name. Even in their rare moments together, it wasn’t as it was before. It never would be.

“So you’re leaving.” Hermione swallowed.

“I have to.” Bellatrix’s shoulders slumped as she turned towards the window overlooking the dark fields and forest surrounding their little cottage. “If he’s coming here, he could see me, and that would ruin everything we’ve worked for.’

“But–”

“I can’t stay locked in this room, Hermione. Especially when I know I’ll have to return to Azkaban soon. Please… don’t ask that of me. Don’t make this home another cell.”

She could never ask that. She knew her lover to be a dragon, and dragons needed room to spread their wings and fly. Hermione just wished she could fly with her, but she was always shit on a broom. Pushing down her despair and ignoring the pain in her chest, Hermione approached Bellatrix and wrapped her arms around her, pulling the other woman’s back flush with her chest and rested her chin on her shoulder.

“Promise you’ll write to me, okay? At least once a week.”

Bellatrix turned to press her lips against Hermione’s cheek and breathed in, savoring the other woman’s scent. “Only if you promise to write every day.”

~~~

May 1994 - Hermione - Hogwarts

“We were wrong, Bella. All of us were wrong. Sirius never betrayed the Potters; Pettigrew did. I’ve hated the wrong man for twelve years.

“That rat was right under my nose. In my class. For three years . And I never knew.

“I could have stopped him. I could have saved Sirius. I could have saved you .

“I told Albus, I wouldn’t but I’m telling you: next time I see that rat, I’ll kill him.”

~~~

August 1994 - Bellatrix -  Countryside Cottage

The dark mark on her arm rippled for the first time after over a decade of silence. Upon further inspection, she noticed it had more color than it had since the Dark Lord’s downfall even if it remained faint. The last place she needed to go was Hermione’s cottage, but she had to make sure. She had to know her beloved was safe.

“Bellatrix, what are you doing here?” Hermione hissed, whipping the curtains of her cottage close with a flick of her wand. She must have recently rolled out of bed due to her rumpled nightgown and matted hair. With a flick of her wand, she started a fire in the fireplace and summoned her robe which she pulled tighter around her chest. “Molly or Andy could show up at any moment.”

Bellatrix frowned and glanced up at the mantle clock. “It’s four in the morning. I doubt they’re awake.”

“There was an attack or riot of some sort at the Quidditch World Cup.” Hermione’s jaw clenched. “It was spurred on by Death Eaters.”

“Death Eaters?” Bellatrix clasped the mark her covered forearm. “Are you sure?”

The flames of the fireplace danced in the hard gaze of Hermione’s amber eyes. “They cast his mark in the sky.”

“Oh.” No argument there, but what Death Eater who didn’t go to Azkaban would be foolish enough to do that?

“They attacked a muggle family.” Hermione’s voice remained cold. “Did you know?”

Bellatrix stepped back as if she’d been slapped. “How can you ask me that? Of course not.”

Hermione’s shoulders tensed and her jaw worked for several moments until a quiet sob broke the silence. Orange flames from the fireplace lit the dark room around them, flickering bright orange light across the tear tracks stretching down Hermione’s cheeks.

“I destroyed the locket yesterday.” Her nostrils and voice quivered as she spoke, and a terrible spike of dread filled Bellatrix’s stomach. 

They had agreed to wait. To do it when they had more knowledge and knew what to expect, and they both had plenty of time. They thought they’d have more time now that Sirius had been exonerated, but most of Hermione’s summer up to this point had been spent setting up Sirius in a safer place to hide out. Like Bellatrix, he was a fugitive, but unlike Bellatrix, the Order knew of his loyalties and offered protection. No one seemed to question how Hermione treated Sirius’s lasting symptoms of Azkaban so well, but it meant that most of her summer had been assigned caring for him, forgoing most of her normal time she’d spent with Bellatrix. Leave it to her cousin to ruin yet another summer.

“Merlin, Hermione.” Bellatrix swore under her breath as she took Hermione’s hands in her own to look for any injuries or scars. “Are you alright?”

Hermione bit her lip and nodded. “After everything with Pettigrew and then Sirius, I just wanted to do something. Something that would help, especially after making things so much worse for so long.”

“Oh, pet.” Bellatrix squeezed Hermione’s hands tightly within her own.

“The basilisk fang and venom worked. It’s destroyed. But it defended itself… almost like a bogart.” Hermione’s gaze remained fixed on the fire beside her, her hands still limp in Bellatrix’s. “It showed you and him together. All over each other. And Taunting me. Threatening me. Telling me how Voldemort would be back soon and that you couldn’t wait to rid yourself of the most disappointing and dirty little mudblood and that I was too much work for an occasional but pathetic shag.”

“Hermione…”

“I know, I’m being ridiculous. I know.” Hermione shook her head and sniffled as more tears streamed down her face. “But after I got word of what happened tonight, I thought that maybe it was all true. And that you would be better without me and that I was just making your life more complicated and too much work and–”

Bellatrix cut her off with a fierce hug. Finally, Hermione responded to her, fisting her robe and holding her close as she sobbed into her neck, staining her collar with salt water and runny snot. She only held on tighter. She had never been very good with words, usually differing to actions instead, but in times like now, she desperately wished she knew what to say.

“You’re everything to me.” Bellatrix whispered as she held the sobbing woman closer to her and smoothed some of her wild hair off her face, tucking it behind her ears. Then she grabbed her wand and summoned her patronus so the otter could curl up at Hermione’s feet, hopefully testifying to all the love and devotion Bellatrix didn’t know how to express.

~~~

November 1994 - Hermione - Hogwarts

“ As expected, the Triwizards tournament has gone to shit. How Harry’s name got into the Goblet of Fire, I’ll never know, but I do know that boy didn’t do it himself as he hasn’t bothered with any preparation besides what I’ve assigned to him in detentions. It’s hard to believe he’s survived so many near misses with Voldemort before this - I never realized just how much that boy has relied on dumb luck and sheer will.  

“I thought I’d feel safer with Moody here, but something’s off. Maybe it’s because of the presence of Drumstrang students and Karkaroff, but Moody looks at me with such disgust that I haven’t seen since the war. I haven’t seen him since the original Order disbanded, and I fear he may have finally lost it. ”

~~~

June 1995 - Hermione - Countryside Cottage

The crash in her little cottage’s living room roused Hermione from her studies. Everyone should be at the final Triwizard event - who would bother her now?

“Bella?”

Curled up in a ball on the floor, Bellatrix groaned through gritted teeth. Her arm stuck out tense and bare in front of her. That cursed mark of a skull and snake alive and rippling across her skin with more life in it than ever before. 

“It burns, Hermione, FUCK!”

Hermione’s stomach turned. Voldemort was back. After all these years, he’d manage to return. How? Had these past years accomplished nothing? She knew the destruction of a few horcrux wouldn’t have stopped him, especially since they believe that damn snake to be one as well. But now? Already? 

“I have to go back. It’s only a matter of time before he comes for us.”

“ Them ,” Hermione desperately wanted to correct, but she bit her tongue.

“Okay.” Hermione forced herself to nod and remain in the present for Bellatrix. “Okay, what do you need from me?”

“Just… can you hold me?”

The request was so small and weak, and if it weren’t for the sheer desperation on Bellatrix’s face, Hermione would have sworn she misheard. But Hermione fell to her knees next to her beloved and wrapped her in a tight hug. Eventually, when Bellatrix’s salty but desperate lips pressed against her own, Hermione pressed back, gently guiding them through their last night together.

—

“I don’t know if I can do this again, ‘mione.” Bellatrix whispered later that night as they lay in their bed with Hermione cradling her from behind. “I don’t know if I can be that person again.”

Despite laying in silence for the better part of five minutes, Hermione’s heart couldn’t stop pounding in her chest. Hell, she hadn’t even had time to process Voldemort being back yet nor the threat to her and every other muggleborn. 

“Then don’t.”

Rather than verbally respond, Bellatrix’s hand found Hermione’s and twined their fingers together. Fresh tears that weren’t her own wetted Hermione’s cheek where it met Bellatrix’s chin, and Hermione only held her tighter. 

Hermione woke up the next morning alone.

~~~

September 1995 - Hermione - Hogwarts

“Pardon me, Professor Granger, but what exactly are you insinuating?”

The little pink toad should consider herself lucky that Hermione hadn’t hexed her into the next year. To use blood quills on a student. On a fifth year no less. Where was the damn headmaster when she needed him? But of course, he was off trying to finish Bellatrix’s horcrux’s hunt, so it was once again on her to watch over Harry’s and the other student’s wellbeing.

Hermione’s nostrils flared and her fists clenched. “I’m merely requesting that when it comes to my students that you conform to the prescribed disciplinary practices.”

Umbridge had the audacity to scoff. “So silly of me, but it sounds like you are questioning my authority in my own classroom, Hermione .”

Umbridge tilted her head and stepped forward, crowding into Hermione’s space and demanding the submission of a retreat. But she forgot, everyone always did, that she was Hermione Granger, the ex lover of the most feared Death Eater. And she was nearing the end of her rope.

“Not at all, Dolores .” A predatory grin split Hermione’s face, and she leaned forward, baring her white teeth in a savage smirk that cowered Umbridge back several steps. “Merely your medieval methods.”

Umbridge pursed her lips and pompously lifted her chin. “I’m sorry dear, but I don’t believe you mean that. Because to question my methods would mean to question the Ministry and by extension, the Minister himself. I’m a tolerant woman, but the one thing I will not stand for is disloyalty.”

Hermione threw her head back with a single barking laugh and to her delight, Umbridge actually stepped back. “Disloyalty? You dare question me about my loyalty?”

It was rich coming from Umbridge, a former Slytherin, but Hermione knew just how deeply loyal Slytherins could be for a cause they believe in. Still, that wouldn’t stop Hermione from showing her own house traits and displaying her lion heart and claws, especially in defense of Lily’s boy.

But then the former Slytherin took an unexpected strike back, flashing her fangs in a devilish smirk. 

“Maybe you’re too loyal, hmm?” Umbridge batted her lashes as she pressed forward, tapping her chin in mock thought. “Isn’t it interesting that it wasn’t until you started teaching that things started to turn awry? The Sorcerer's Stone nearly goes missing. Then a basilisk is freed from a secret chamber where it slumbered for decades undisturbed. Just a year later, Sirius Black was captured here at this school but mysteriously slipped away before he could be returned back to Azkaban. And then last year, a former terrorist masqueraded as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for almost an entire year.”

“Just what are you implying?” Hermione ground through gritted teeth.

Umbridge cocked her head as she smirked. “It’s just interesting timing, that’s all. One would almost suspect that they had help. Perhaps a man, or woman, on the inside? Perhaps someone Dumbledore insists is loyal to him, but secretly serves someone else.”

More students were staring now, but Hermione didn’t care. After everything she’s done, everything she’s sacrificed , all to have this arrogant, corrupt brownnoser question it. If Hermione’s wand was out, she would have it pressed against this toad of a woman’s throat. 

“Who would I be serving, Dolores?” Hermione’s eyes gleamed as she stalked forward. “Like you’ve said, Voldemort’s dead. Bellatrix’s been in Azkaban for fourteen years. For what purpose would I, a fucking mudblood , do any of those things?”

Umbridge’s bravado faltered as she blubbered. “Language Professor–”

“It’s the language Voldemort and his followers have used against me for my entire life, and I will use it as I damn well please.” Hermione snapped. 

“I didn’t mean to–” Umbridge yelped when her back hit the stone wall of the hallway.

“To what? Accuse me of supporting a cause I’ve fought against my entire life, that I’ve lost everything to, because you certainly were just ten seconds ago.” Hermione crowded her further against the wall, her wand suddenly firm in her grasp. “Maybe you’re the one that shouldn’t tell lies.”

“Granger!”

Hermione whipped her head to the side. Minerva held her green robes high as she charged towards them, and Hermione finally stepped back. 

“McGonagall.” Hermione forced herself to take another step back and a breath. “We were just–”

“Oh, I know perfectly well what you were doing.” She nodded towards Hermione’s wand. “Put that away before I do it for you. Dolores, my apologies–”

“The Minister will be hearing about this.” Umbridge’s voice wavered as she stumbled further away from the two professors, and the crowd of students reluctantly parted for her. “It seems things at Hogwarts were far worse than they seemed.”

—

“You pushed her too far.”

Locked away in the privacy of Minerva’s office, Hermione now sat across from Minerva at her desk with a pot of tea between them. The only other one but Albus who knew, at least about Bellatrix after James and Lily’s death. The horcrux hunt knowledge remained unknown. Either way, Hermione all but crumpled in her chair from both mental exhaustion and defeat.

“What else was I supposed to do, Minerva? She’s using blood quills. You know as well as do that those aren’t ministry sanctioned.”

“I don’t like it anymore than you do, Hermione, but that wasn’t what I was talking about.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Hermione slid her clammy palm over her hot face. “Just these past couple of months… I don’t like thinking of her in that cell. Her being trapped there because of me.”

“Bellatrix can handle it. We both know she can.”

A weak laugh of disbelief escaped Hermione's lips. “You weren’t there after her first stint. Who’s gonna take care of her now after he comes for her?”

Minerva pursed her lips and tilted her head. “I think your worries may be put to better use if you turn them on yourself. After all, who is going to take care of you?”

Hermione’s gaze fell to the tea cup in front of her, but didn’t respond.

“I think we could both benefit if this afternoon tea continued on a regular basis, hm?”

With little other choice and more hope than Hermione normally dared hold, Hermione nodded.

~~~

January 1996 - Hermione - Hogwarts

If it weren’t for Dolores and the Ministry breathing down her neck as they watched her every move, Hermione would have canceled classes as soon as she read the Daily Prophet’s headline: Mass Breakout From Azkaban and saw the moving image of Bellatrix screaming and dirty while clad in chains. She snuck into the prefect's bathroom later to hurl up her breakfast and arrived late to her first morning class.

Of course, her class carried much the same frantic energy she felt as many of the students brought their own copies of the Prophet with them to class and discussed the historic once thought to be impossible breakout. On each of those copies, Bellatrix’s feral portrait thrashed and her stomach curled again. God, she should have just canceled class; Dolores be damned. 

“It’s terrifying. Mum wrote to me asking if Hogwarts was training me how to defend myself, and I didn’t know what to tell her.” Seamus Finnigan jabbed his finger at the front page of the Daily Prophet folded in front of him. “Umbridge keeps insisting we don’t need to know any defensive spells, but that was before that deranged bitch and those other Death Eaters escaped.”

Hermione slowed her walk to the front of the class and turned towards them. Dean Thomas noticed first and kicked Seamus’s shin underneath the table to finally silence him.

“Uh, Professor–” Seamus started, but Hermione didn’t want to hear it.

“Unspeakable curses require a lot of energy from the offending caster, but a well executed protego shield charm can within them with minimal effort from the defending caster.” Hermione’s voice sounded hollow, her eyes never leaving Bellatrix’s screaming mugshot in black and white. “Use that followed by a disarming charm, and you’ll be able to take care of multiple enemies at once or wait for one to tire themselves out.”

Dean and Seamus shared a quick glance. “Err thanks, Professor.”

Seamus drug the newspaper off the table to hide on his lap, but Hermione just shook her head. She wanted to tell him that she wouldn’t hurt them. That she had done more than they would ever know. But of course, she could only remain silent like she had the last fourteen years. 

“Change of lesson plans,” Hermione flicked her wand to clear the chalkboard. “We’re discussing wards today. Both defensive ones, and offensive ones.”

In the back of the class, Harry perked up, and Hermione couldn’t help but sigh. She’d have to find another reason to give him detention so she could assign him more work that he could pass on to that dueling group masquerading as a study group he had brewing. At least this way she could actually attempt to prepare him for whatever Voldemort was planning rather than treat him like Albus with just ridiculous blind faith. 

God, she was tired.

~~~

June 1996 - Bellatrix - Department of Mysteries

Hermione wasn’t supposed to be here. None of them were supposed to be here but Harry. At least that was what Voldemort told them. But of course, that coward had sent her and the other Death Eaters to do the so-called ‘easy’ job. He was expecting a fire fight and threw them in as a test. That paranoid snake turned everything into a test.

Nearly a dozen Death Eaters should have squashed the six fourth and fifth year Hogwarts students like bugs, but Death Eaters enjoyed playing with their prey. They allowed the young wizards to dance, cast their weak spells and run for cover behind shelves of prophecies. Her colleagues would avoid causing any permanent damage against the pureblood minors, and Voldemort forbade anyone from laying a deadly hand on Potter. They would have been fine in this cat and mouse game, but then the blood Order had to arrive.

Hermione, Sirius, and Nymphadora. Hell, invite Andromeda and Ted and make it a bloody fucking family reunion. Obviously, the Order needed to send support for these reckless minors, but did it have to be them?

But why send Hermione? She fought with books and knowledge - not spells and counter curses. A muggle born with her reputation would be the first on a kill list for just about every Death Eater here. For both their sakes, Bellatrix prayed that she’d be lucky enough to find her first among the maze of shelves and destruction around them. 

Alas, Bellatrix always had terrible luck.

“Serves you right, you filthy mudblood.”

Dolohov. Of all the bloody Death Eaters, it had to be that twat. Her boots crunched against shattered prophecy glass, and, once she rounded the shelf, she finally saw Hermione laying on her back in a body bind as Dolohov sauntered up to her. Dark blood seeped into the floor beneath Hermione’s form, and Dolohov sneered down at her, like a mighty lion annoyed that a field mouse thought it was worth the trouble for such a tiny meal.

Just as Bellatrix desperately tries to think of any sort of plan to save Hermione without blowing her cover, his wand falls ever so slightly as does his concentration, and Hermione’s able to break the bind enough to utter a reducto and blast him into an adjacent shelf of prophecies, breaking his bind over her completely. Dozens of them shattered on impact, sending shards of glass and a rush of jumbled whispers out from beneath him. As Hermione pushed herself to her feet once again and held her wand at the ready, a proud smile bloomed over Bellatrix’s face. Perhaps she shouldn’t have underestimated her girl after all.

“You’ll pay for that, you dirty little mud dyke!” Dolohov snarled as he rolled to his feet.

A yellow light cast from his wand, likely another body bind, but this time, Hermione shielded with a quick protego . The block held for the next series of spells Dolohov threw at her, but sweat gleamed on her brow as she gripped her wand with two hands and her shielding charm started to crack. With a wicked grin Bellatrix recognized too well, Dolohov reared back for his signature move.

“ Crucio !”

Those eyes she loved so dearly widened in fear at the red flash of light streaming towards her and shattering her shield like thunder. Though slightly weakened, the curse slammed into Hermione’s chest with a sharp gasping cry, and she crumbled to the floor in a heap, her body seizing in spasms as her wand rolled underneath one of the prophecy shelves.

Sloppy! Bellatrix’s eye twitched and her throat shuddered at her forced breath.  While Hermione hadn’t been able to disarm or defeat Frank or Alice back in their practice duels, Bellatrix thought she should have been able to hold her own against someone as sloppy and impulsive as Dolohov. But she hadn’t dueled since Hogwarts. Bellatrix had made sure of that, but she hadn’t realized how her foolish actions had led to Hermione’s own dueling skills deteriorating. Fuck, why hadn’t she jumped in? She just watched like a careless idiot!

“Antonin!” 

Both the dark wizard and her lover jerked their heads towards her. Dolohov’s eyes hardened, but so did Hermione’s as her eyes darted towards her astray wand. She was weak. Out of practice. Bellatrix wanted nothing but to hide her away in the heart of their little cottage amid the leather books and cushioning charms and a hired house elf to stuff her full of tea and pastries. But alas, that wasn’t what Hermione wanted. And as much as that ached Bellatrix to her very core, she’d support her lover and protect her through whatever she desired. It was Bellatrix’s fault for failing her when she needed her most.

“Don’t you dare ask me to go easy on the mudblood,” Dolohov seethed. “I don’t care what history you two have.”

Hermione flinched at the slur, but Bellatrix just threw her head back in a cackle. The action hid how her free hand clenched into a fist. She’d kill him after this. Sweet Salazar, she would kill him.

“On the contrary,” Bellatrix flashed her teeth in a grin, “I want to have a go at her. She started this all, and it’s now, almost fifteen years, I finally get my chance.” She stalked forward and almost broke at Hermione’s tremble. “Now let me have it. Girl to girl.”

Dolohov’s gaze burned into her back as Bellatrix raised her curved wand. Merlin, how she didn’t want to, but she couldn’t let Dolohov continue. She couldn’t let him kill her. She had to keep her safe. No, she’d already failed to do that. No, now she could only focus on keeping her alive. Unfortunately, that meant a sacrifice on both parts.

“Sectumsempra.”

Bellatrix’s mouth filled with blood as she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from breaking as Hermione’s brown eyes flashed, stricken with dread then pain. They knew the spell. They’d helped Severus craft it, then test against spell test dummies. If Voldemort were to check her actions with Severus, he’d confirm the spell’s dark intentions and painful results. Bellatrix knew she didn’t have the fear or hate against Hermione to do any deadly damage, but this spell didn’t allow kind casts. To cast it meant harm. 

White light flashed, and Hermione’s eyes widened before her screams pierced the air. That sound would haunt her dreams till she died. Bellatrix chose to localize her aim towards Hermione’s arm, the same one she cast with. Dolohov would think her intention would be prevent Hermione from wandless summoning and deflecting any subsequent torture charm. But Bellatrix knew Hermione could cast with either arm. Her girl was powerful like that. She had to be. Especially with how her blood seeped and stained her sleeve as she thrashed against the floor. 

Fuck, she needed a time turner to just go back two minutes to kill herself and Dolohov before any of this ever happened. She deserved to die after this.

“ Petrificus Totalus. ”

Dolohov fell to the ground next to her, and Bellatrix’s concentration broke, leaving a panting and shuddering Hermione bleeding on the floor as she cradled her injured arm against her chest. Merlin, she hoped, Morgana, she prayed, this newcomer would end her miserable existence and save her from the nightmares the past twenty seconds would bring her. 

Of course, it had to be Sirius Black. Why couldn’t it be Crane or Lupin or anyone else shit at dueling? Not someone else she had to fight in order to convince. Not to mention that her cousin forever carried a chip on his shoulder towards her.

“Bellatrix,” Sirius drawled, his gaze darting over to Hermione then back and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t tell me I’m interrupting a lover’s quarrel.”

Hermione closed her eyes and dropped her head back to the floor in an exhausted thud while Bellatrix bared her teeth. No, not now. Not when this was the first time she’d seen her lover in almost a bloody year. They could still run. Sweet Salazar, why didn't she just run when Hermione asked?

“Cousin.” Bellatrix raised her wand and her words dripped venom. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Forgive me for not bothering to visit you in Azkaban.” Sirius rolled his neck to offer a mocking grin. “How was solitary? I heard they sentenced you to the dementor’s kiss but even the dementors didn’t want to be that close to you.”

Peeling back her lips to grit her teeth, Bellatrix flung her wand in an arch to silently cast stupefy and immediately Sirius went to side step it. But perhaps due to her heightened emotional state or his own lack of practice or both, it hit him anyway, slamming into his chest.

Sirius stumbled back. Right through the veil. And the veil took him.

“I killed Sirius.” Bellatrix whispered. “I killed Sirius Black.”

And then she turned and ran. 

—

That night, after Voldemort kissed her forehead in pride, Bellatrix tried to cast a patronus. To summon her otter to go check on Hermione. To apologize. To do anything. But she couldn't summon a memory happy enough to fuel anything but weak white wisps and tears.

~~~

April 1997 - Hermione - Hogwarts

“What are you doing here?”

What a good question - Hermione had wandered the same for nearly a year now. But when she heard Draco had been sent to the hospital wing by the same spell she’d been hit with, but for him by Harry Potter of all people, she knew she owed her would-be-in-another-life nephew a visit. 

With a weak smile, Hermione held up a small jar. “I brought you a healing salve with aloe and dittany in it. I should help with the pain.”

He narrowed his dark eyes at her and his forehead wrinkled and his lip curled just like Bellatrix’s did when she was deep in thought. Even with the Malfoy blonde hair, he had the face of a Black.

“Why?” He spat. “Feeling guilty that your Golden Boy did this?”

With a sign, Hermione slumped into the chair next to his bandaged form in the hospital bed. He was just sixteen. Younger than even she was when they first joined this war. A war that started before he was even born.

“Guilty, yes. Because of Harry, no.” Hermione chewed her lip as she started down at her own concealed forearms that bore matching scars to his torso now. They didn’t know it would scar permanently when they helped Severus with it. “I just… I know what it can be like to carry such a heavy burden, especially one you didn’t ask for but would lose everything if you failed.”

When Severus told the Order of Draco’s Death Eater initiation, she cornered him afterwards demanding more answers. He insisted it wasn’t a big deal. That he and Bellatrix had made an unbreakable vow with Narcissa to protect him. But that only broke Hermione further.

She hadn’t heard from Bellatrix since that night at ministry. For ten months now, she had waited for something - an owl, a floo message, anything - but received nothing. Still, she slept each night with the window with the hopes of a familiar otter waking her as it curled at her feet.

“It wasn’t my fault what happened to Katie Bell.”

Hermione’s jaw clenched, but she pushed on. “I didn’t say it was. But Draco…”

“But nothing!” Draco’s teeth only looked yellow against his deathly pale pallor. “Get out of here! Leave me alone!”

“God, you’re just like your aunt.” Hermione pinched her nose but stood up. She didn’t say which one, but the way his face drooped, he knew. “I’ll leave, but listen to me when I tell you this. You’re not alone, okay? More people are on your side than you know.”

“I know exactly who’s on his side–”

“Not his side. Yours. And that includes me.”

She’d be on the side of any child in this damn war, regardless of what Albus said. She would do everything she could to protect them, especially the pureblood minor forced to swear his allegiance to a mass murderer.

As she started to walk out of the hospital wing, Draco whispered a few words that stopped her.

“She still thinks about you. Only with my mom though. I know she misses you. Especially this past year.”

Despite desperately blinking back against the tears forming in her eyes, her voice still croaked when she spoke. “Oh?”

“I asked her about it over winter break and she denied it. But she told me to tell you she was right about the cup.” That familiar gaze flicked back over to her. “I assume you know what that means.”

~~~

June 1997 - Hermione 

“You were in the castle tonight. You were in Hogwarts, and you didn’t so much as leave me a note. I didn’t even know you were here until I heard your cackle. I thought I was hearing things. I still have nightmares about that cackle ever since that night at the Department of Mysteries. I know you can’t be my Bellatrix when you sound like that, but have you been able to be my Bellatrix since that night?

“But then I looked out my window. And I saw Albus fall from the Astronomy Tower and how his body broke when it hit the ground. You and Severus just stood at the top looking down. And then all hell broke loose.

“Did you know Minerva’s been practicing dueling with me this past year? Her, Flitwick, and Sprout join me any free night they have to practice. We knew it was only a matter of time before Voldemort attacked Hogwarts. Thank God, we did because Ginny Weasley likely would have died against the Carrows. What sort of monster uses the Cruciatus Curse against a fifteen year old?

“But I never saw you again. You left without a goodbye. Without even a glance.

“I know you have a role to play, and I only get in the way, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ever putting you in that impossible situation in the Department of Mysteries. I should have stayed at Hogwarts. I shouldn’t have tried to fight Dolohov. I shouldn’t have distracted you. It’s my fault Sirius is dead. I put you in that situation, and I’m sorry.

“I’m sorry Bellatrix. I’m so sorry.”

~~~

July 1997 - Hermione

“I write letters I know I can’t send.

“I don’t understand what happened on top of that astronomy tower, but I know you must have had a good reason.

“Bella, I trust you, I love you, but, fuck, I miss you.”

~~~

August 1997 - Hermione

“Nymphadora is pregnant. Remus Lupin is the father. She’s due in April.

“I should be happy. There has been so little to look forward to this year, but it only widens the aching hole in my chest. This started with Andy’s pregnancy with her, and because of you, your niece grew up in a safe and loving home like so many others. Now, Dora is old enough to continue the cycle. But I can’t help but wonder if this child will even know you. If, like their mother, they will believe you to be a monster. If they’ll ever know how much you care?

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this, Bella. Each day I stumble closer and closer to the ledge, and each day I hope a little bit more that I’ll fall. The Gryffindor in me demands selfishness and strength, but I’m tired, Bella. I’m so fucking tired.

“When is it our turn? When is it our turn to stop hiding? To stop pushing away those close to us? To come home to each other? To tell the truth? To just live?

“Haven’t we done enough?”

~~~

May 1998

When Hermione explained the concept of horcruxes to Harry and Ron while in that year of exile, they’d been surprisingly helpful. Especially when Harry pulled out the broken remains of a ring from his pocket and told her Dumbledore had destroyed it with the sword of Gryffindor. He’d kept the stone at the request of his old headmaster to keep it on him at all times, but from the ring remains, Hermione knew it to be a horcrux. 

By her count, that meant four had been destroyed so far. How much more could there possibly be?

From Harry’s visions from Voldemort, they realized the remaining ones to be something of Ravenclaw in Hogwarts and his pet snake Nagini. Could there be more? It was possible, but from Hermione’s understanding, to split one’s soul in half six times meant that one’s soul had become drastically unstable and likely couldn’t handle much more stress without perishing or breaking out without the vessel’s knowledge. How Voldemort had managed six times baffled her.

Upon their travels, they stumbled across Luna Lovegood, a sweet, but incredibly odd Ravenclaw student, who told them of the Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem that the Grey Lady told her had been swindled from her and hidden in the castle several decades ago. From this, Hermione speculates it may be in the Room of Requirement close to where Draco stored his Vanishing Cabinet.

Upon returning to Hogwarts for the, hopefully, final battle. At the very least, it’s the Order’s last stand. Harry and Ron fumbled their way down the halls to find the Room of Requirement while Hermione aligns herself with the other remaining staff of Hogwarts. If it were up to her, all students would be sent home immediately, but Minerva insisted they should have a choice.

And that was how Hermione found herself fighting alongside sixteen year old Ginny Weasley and nineteen year old Nymphadora Lupin, both of whom were far too young to even be in this war. She held Ginny close when the explosion took out her brother Fred, and held Nymphadora back when Dolohov killed Lupin in their duel.

Soon both called a cease fire to collect their dead. Harry and Ron returned oddly sweaty and soot covered, but with confident grins when they confirmed the destruction of another horcrux. That left the snake. Then Voldemort would be mortal to kill. But Hermione didn’t notice Harry’s odd shifting on his feet or when he snuck out of the castle after Voldemort called for his head. 

That was until she watched Hagrid carry back Harry’s corpse and Voldemort’s snake grin widely as he proudly proclaimed that, “Harry Potter is dead!” and heard those disgusting Death Eaters laughter along beside him. She finally saw Bellatrix then. She wore a mask of feral anger, but Hermione could see the exhaustion underneath. After twenty years, they were just so freaking tired.

Harry wasn’t dead though. When he rolled out of Hagrid’s arms, Hermione saw the impossible spark of hope in Bellatrix’s eyes. After avoiding it all day, her gaze met Hermione for the first time in almost two years, and it swelled such joy in Hermione’s chest that she could have likely summoned an entire family of otter patronuses.

When the fighting resumed, she killed Dolohov first.

“I think the madness has reached a new level with my insane aunt.” Nymphadora mumbled when Bellatrix kicked Antonin Dolohov’s lifeless body down the front steps with a cold laugh.

“Or she can finally be sane again.” Hermione grasped Nymphadora in a fierce side hug. “God, you’re gonna love her as an aunt.”

Nymphadora’s red hair turned a questionable brown as she glanced towards Hermione anxiously. “What?”

“Twenty years.” Hermione shook her head, but then noticed a familiar redhead sneaking up behind Bellatrix with her wand drawn. “I swear I’ll explain, but right now, I have to go make sure Molly doesn’t actually try to kill my beloved.”

—

Neville Longbottom ended up beheading the snake with the sword of Gryffindor, and Harry defeated the Dark Lord, all while Hermione threatened to stun any member of the Order who tried to attack Bellatrix, and Bellatrix killed any Death Eater that neared them. Finally, the battle ended with their backs pressed against each other, each panting to catch their own breath and take in the deadly scenery around them. 

And to the conversation in that private classroom.

—

 “I know what we agreed to seventeen years ago. I know what we fought for, what we did. What I did. But…I just don’t know if you can love me again after you’ve seen the monster I’ve become.”

“How fucking dare you.” Hermione seethed.

“What?”

“Again? That implies I ever stopped loving you.”

After over two decades of their relationship, Hermione had never been this close to strangling the life out of Bellatrix. Especially as she simply stood there gaping her mouth like a fish out of water.

“Hermione…” Bellatrix closed her eyes. “It’s not that simple. I’ve done terrible things. I’ve hurt so many people.”

“So what?” Hermione threw up her arms. “Do you think I haven’t? Everyone’s hurt someone in this war. Oh, and you killed people? I did too. Hell, I’m not sure which Death Eaters I killed today because they were wearing a mask, but regardless of who it was, I’m not going to lose sleep. That’s what happens in a fucking war.”

Still the other woman remained cold and withdrawn as she crossed her arm over her chest. “I don’t care about them.”

“Then tell me Bellatrix.” Hermione gripped Bellatrix’s biceps, hating how the other woman flinched. “Tell me what is this about?”

“But I didn’t save you.” Her gaze fell to Hermione’s arm, the one scarred gripping her right arm.

“Bella…”

“No.” Bellatrix blinked back tears that she choked on. “I became a double agent to keep you safe and protect you from harm, but I ended up torturing you. There isn’t an excuse for that.”

Hermione’s scarred arm tensed, but she refused to release her hold on Bellatrix, following her step when she stepped back. No, this wasn’t how it would happen. Not after twenty years.

“Maybe I don’t need an excuse.” Bellatrix scoffed, but Hermione tracked her gaze. “No, look at me. Listen to me. Bellatrix. We were in a war. You were asked to perform a role you never should have been. You’ve been forced to put your life on hold and oblige to a performance for half your life. You are allowed leniency.” Hermione squeezed her arms. “ We are allowed leniency.”

After several sniffles, Bellatrix finally met Hermione's gaze. “I’m really sorry Hermione. I swear, I never wanted to hurt you. I just wanted to protect you, but I didn't know how, and then a fucked up and hurt you.”

“Bella.” Hermione sighed, and stroked the other woman’s cheek. “You can’t expect me to go unharmed for twenty years. We both made mistakes over the course of this war. Just… promise me we’ll keep trying, together okay?”

After three of the longest moments in Hermione’s life, Bellatrix nodded. “Okay.”

And for the first time in twenty years, the two women were finally together again.