Chapter 45: DuelChapter Text
Though Bellatrix had reassured her the previous day, Hermione still hadn't gotten much sleep last night. To her embarrassment, she had been forced to hide some rather opulent yawns during classes. As the duelling club would be held after class hours, most of the day was spent counting down to it. Bellatrix herself had been uncharacteristically quiet and giving even less focus to her school work than usual.
On several occasions, she caught Cormac staring at her… winking whenever her gaze accidentally met his. This, in turn, rather enraged Bellatrix who started making obscene gestures at him behind the teacher's back, adding to Hermione's embarrassment. God, she couldn't wait for this nonsense to be over. And, in a way, for the school year to be done so she would never have to see Cormac McLaggen ever again for the rest of her natural life.
When Hermione arrived at the duelling hall, she was surprised to find the place packed. Though she supposed she shouldn't have been. McLaggen had been boasting about it all day and, well, Bellatrix still had her legendary status and many students wanted to see this supposed legend in action. Most of the students here were Gryffindors and Slytherins, with fewer Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs in the mix. Some teachers were there as well. Madame Hooch for one and she spotted McGonagall near the back. Of course, knowing both, they would never officially endorse these types of contests between students, but unofficially? Well, McLaggen had been a source of trouble for the school, so they might just be here to enjoy the show.
One thing Hermione did find disappointing is that many Gryffindors and Slytherins were merely here to support whatever person bearing their respective colours. She supposed that was to be expected in a way and it made her wonder if these two ancient houses would ever end their foolish rivalry on day. Today, however, would not be that day.
On the raised rectangular platform stood both Bellatrix and Cormac in full house regalia, wands raised, while professor Flitwick stood in the middle.
"Right," started the professor with his high-pitched voice. "Today, we are all gathered here because mister McLaggen has challenged miss Black to a formal duel. Reason for said duel is a perceived slight upon mister McLaggen's person and…"
The professor fumbled with a piece of paper and read for it. "The right to… court miss Granger?" he frowned and turned to Hermione in the ground to give him an odd look. "Really, miss Granger?"
She supposed that her overt eye-roll told professor Flitwick all he needed to know.
"Well, I suppose we should get under way," he said. "First and foremost, standard rules will be enforced. Fights will, obviously, be non-lethal. A standard greeting will be given, following by a three second count before the duel begins. The duel will last until one of the combatants has been knocked off the duelling strip or the timer reaches ten minutes, upon which the winner will be decided by myself based upon judgment of form, creative spell use and technique. Both combatants have exercised their right to choose one additional rule. Mister McLaggen had ruled that magic has to stay above the belt."
Hermione almost snorted. Perhaps that was the one smartest thing Cormac had done so far: he had correctly concluded that Bellatrix could and would fight dirty. For her part, Bellatrix seemed a bit disappointed that Cormac's knackers were no longer a valid target.
"Furthermore," added Flitwick. "Miss Black has ruled that there is to be no physical contact between combatants and the duel must be decided by magical skill alone. If any of these rules are broken, this will be considered an automatic forfeit by the offender."
Again, that was a smart decision on Bellatrix' part. Bellatrix was a slight girl and Cormac stood much taller than her. Hermione still remembered her duel with Millicent where this rule had not been in effect. Rather than defeating her with magic, the much larger Millicent had simply wrestled Hermione to the ground and put her into a headlock. Her neck had been stiff and sore for a week afterwards.
Flitwick took a few steps back and raised his own wand to signify the start of the duel. "One… Two… Thre…"
A massive gust of energy flew from Bellatrix' wand, displacing air as it pushed forward. Hermione felt her hair starting to tingle from the static magical discharge ionizing the air. The gust blasted Cormac from the duelling strip before he could even yelp. For a moment, a hush went over the gathered crowd until McLaggen picked himself up.
"Hah!" Bellatrix cheered. "I win!"
"FOUL! FOUL!" he shouted. "Black forfeits! She started the duel before the countdown was done!"
"Bollocks to that!" Bellatrix shouted back. "Professor Flitwick counted to three! Everybody heard it!"
Small arguments were starting up around Hermione, words were being exchanged and the occasional temper started to flare. Hermione was getting a bit uneasy as Cormac started to scream like a pig about having won the duel.
"SILENCE!" shouted Flitwick and the crowd obeyed. "Hm, I fear the fault lies with the arbiter. I had not specified that I would lower my wand at the count of three which would signify the start of the duel rather than the actual count itself. My apologies. We shall start the duel anew and attribute this false start to simple youthful exuberance."
By now, Bellatrix and Cormac, both convinced that they had won the duel, were looking rather miffed. They resumed their positions at the end of the strip, the crowd hushed and both of them raised their wands again. Flitwick did the countdown again, this time lowering his wand.
It surprised Hermione that Bellatrix let Cormac make the first move, until it occurred to her that Cormac might be trying to goad Bellatrix into forfeiting by breaking the rules. Cormac's opening was a bog-standard expelliarmus charm which Bellatrix easily blocked. And then it was Trix' turn.
Her curved wand, actually designed for fighting duels, looked to be an extension of her body as Bellatrix went on the offensive. She twisted and turned her body, swaying her arm to put weight into her spells as she aggressively bombarded Cormac with curse after curse after curse. Her face twisted in a snarl, her curly hair whipping around her, Bellatrix made for a fierce and frightful sight. The small girl was dancing on the strip, unforgiving and unrelenting.
Cormac, for his part, was very much on the defensive. Though he was trying to actually trying to get a shot in, the first attempt to do so almost caused him to lose his wand.
It was then that Zipper was starting to become a bit of a problem. Their companion had been brought along to the duel, leashed as usual, but the giant wasp had some trouble understanding that this was a controlled fight. All Zipper could see, however, was that someone was trying to hurt his friend. The lead was pulled taut while Zipper was buzzing angrily, struggling to pull loose to attack Cormac. Zipper's stinger was fully unsheathed and Hermione was struggling to hold on to the lead. Part of Hermione wanted to simply let go so that Zipper could sting the hell out of him, but she also realized that with a stinger the size of a dagger, there's a good chance it might kill Cormac. That would simply be more trouble than it was worth.
She managed to pull the lead back in and pulled Zipper to her chest, gently stroking the giant insect between his wings in hopes of calming him down. "Sssh," Hermione whispered. "Bellatrix is not going to get hurt."
The duel was still going strong and what Hermione feared would happen, finally happened: Bellatrix, convinced that she would win, started showboating.
In between spells, she winked at the audience. With every spell cast, she straightened her back, raised her chin and flourished her wand. All of this combined meant that the pace of her casting had slowed down considerably. In fact, it had slowed down enough for Cormac to find an opening.
Her thrust his wand forward, conjuring an oily slick about two meters in diameter right underneath Bellatrix' feet. Her curly-haired girlfriend yelped as she immediately lost her footing and threatened to topple over the side of the duelling strip. Cries came from both the crowd and Hermione when Bellatrix had toppled so far that her loss seemed all but inevitable now.
At the very last moment, she pumped her arm forward. A magical whip lashed out from her wand and wrapped itself around the chandelier above, keeping her from falling. While Bellatrix was struggling to regain her footing, Cormac started bombarding her with curses to push her over the edge. The curly-haired witch let out the loudest angry shriek Hermione had every heard as she blocked each and every one of his attempts wandlessly with her free hand while holding on for dear life. Her arm brightened with arcane light while absorbing or deflecting.
Bellatrix was again determined to win. It was etched on her face, blazed through her dark eyes.
She yanked herself to her feet and whispered arcane words. With a crack, she appeared somewhere else, yet an image of her remained. For a moment, it appeared as if she was in two places at once. To her delight, Hermione realised that Bellatrix had effectively used the 'Picard-manoeuvre'. Though she doubted that Trix would understand the reference, Hermione knew that her dad would love Bellatrix forever for it. She couldn't wait to tell him; hell, he'd probably want to see Bellatrix do it.
Another angry shriek and a shocked hush went through the audience when Bellatrix whipped Cormac in the face. Again. And again. And again. Blood poured from various gashes on his face and chest. McLaggen yelled out more arcane words and a spectral kite-shield appeared in his hands which he promptly held in front of him.
This was a mistake on his part, Hermione realised. Such spectral shields were good to fend off magic of a more physical nature, but especially vulnerable to energy-based magic. Bellatrix, of course, knew this. She pulled her whip-wand to one side, raised her free hand and let the energy flow. Arcs of magical energy started emanating from her arm until a continuous beam of lightning shot from the palm of her hand. Bellatrix grit her teeth while focusing the beam.
Cormac did his best to keep his shield up, but found himself being pushed back. The beam focused on a single point in the middle of the shield and it was starting to lose its coherence. Finally, the shield exploded in a flurry of bright energy. Immediately, Bellatrix went in for the kill.
Hermione watched with baited breath when her girlfriend lashed out with her whip which wrapped around Cormac's ankle while the boy was still staggered from the explosion. She yanked his feet out from under him, twirled around her axis and used her momentum to launch another one of those massive gusts of energy like she had before. It hit McLaggen midair and flung him right into the wall. He eventually landed on the ground with a thud.
The audience remained hushed and then cheers started to emerge, even from the majority of the Gryffindors. The audience was swiftly quieted when Flitwick raised his wand. "The duel has been decided! Miss Black is the clear and uncontested victor."
Bellatrix grinned now, giving Flitwick a grateful nod. Then, she threw her hands into the air and let out a victorious cry.
"I hope all of you learned a lot from watching their techniques," said Flitwick. "Miss Black was singularly aggressive and Mister McLaggen has shown some impressive defensive skills to keep up with miss Black's onslaught. However, I do urge you to remember the dangers of showing off, miss Black, as you have experienced today."
"SHE CHEATED!"
All heads turned to an enraged and bloodied Cormac McLaggen. "No physical contact! YOU BROKE YOUR OWN RULE! LOOK AT MY FACE!"
"No physical contact was made, mister McLaggen," Flitwick pressed. "Though you were accosted with a spell of physical nature, its source was undeniably magic. The use of the spell was legal within the set rules of engagement."
Bellatrix crossed her arms and adopted a rather smug expression. "Don't bother, professor. He is a prime example of a sore loser."
"YOU CHEATED! I'LL MAKE YOU PAY FOR THIS!"
"MISTER MCLAGGEN!" Flitwick shouted, the power behind his voice belying his small stature. "I have declared miss Black to be the clear and uncontested victor. All her moves were legal. Do you doubt my ability as a duelling arbiter?"
Cormac pursed his lips. "N-no, professor."
"Then accept your loss and learn from it," said Flitwick.
Cormac, his face now red with rage, turned around and stormed out of the room. Unfortunately, Kenneth stood a little too close near the exit and found himself being roughly shoved into the wall. Bellatrix jumped off the duelling strip and held out her hand for the young Slytherin to take. "You alright, Kenneth?"
"Yeah," he muttered after being pulled to this feet. "What a knob-head!"
"Took the words right out of my mouth," Bellatrix muttered.
Hermione let out a breath she didn't know what was holding: oh, even if Bellatrix had lost, there was no way she would have suddenly started courting McLaggen, but it would that the boy would be utterly insufferable at the very least. At least Zipper had calmed down now that Cormac had left the room. The giant wasp was merrily buzzing around and looking for something sugary to eat after getting so worked up earlier.
Bellatrix was upon Hermione after running the gauntlet through many fellow student congratulating her. "So," she started. "One a scale of one to ten, how wet did watching me duel make you?"
Upon hearing those words, Hermione's jaw almost hit the floor. "Trix," she hissed. "There's people around us that can hear you!"
"I'm going to take that as a ten," Bellatrix grinned.
"And that is how Bellatrix completely trounced McLaggen," said Hermione while she and her two best friends were sat around the table near the fireplace of the private room she shared with Bellatrix. Though Harry, Ron and Hermione would preferred to have chatted over a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks, they'd only end up being swamped with journos who still had endless questions for her. At least this nice quiet space would do. Bellatrix was out with some members of the Slytherin Quidditch team: miracles above, she was actually making friends.
"God, that was such a satisfying sight to behold," said Hermione reliving the moment. Honestly, it was so nice that Harry and Ron came to visit her more these days.
"Ah," said Harry. "So that's what life with a legend is like."
"Right," added Ron. "I'm going to be a complete cock here and point out the entire mess with that twat McLaggen started because you got a hare-brained scheme in your noggin to make me jealous. Turned to be a bit moot, didn't it? How long has he been chasing you since then? Three years? Not counting your time-skip? How can someone as smart as you be so blind?"
Typical. At least Ron was being honest about being a cock about it. "Yes, Ronald," she rolled her eyes. "Thank you for the sympathy."
"Why didn't you just tell him you were gay?" Harry suggested. "Seems a good reason as any."
"First of all, I didn't know that myself at the time," Hermione replied. "Second, I don't think he would have cared. In fact, he probably double his efforts to 'cure me' with his sheer manliness or somesuch."
"From what I've heard, your girlfriend has bigger bollocks than he has," Ron chuckled.
Hermione made a face. "Don't put that image in my head, Ron, thank you very much."
Ron took a sip from his butterbeer and suddenly frowned. "Just had a thought," Ron said. "All the time I was scaring the lads away from my little sister, I should have been watching Hermione instead. She was with us at the Burrow, in her room. Wearing frilly pink pyjamas and probably having right saucy pillow fights. Here I was warning away the blokes, while ignoring the proverbial wolf in the fold."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Charming, Ronald. Charming," she spoke with an icy tone. "I'll have you know lesbians are perfectly capable to having platonic relationships with other girls. I had no attraction whatsoever to Ginny."
"Likely story," Ron huffed. "I should warn Bellatrix that you're horning after my little sister. Even slept in her room and had saucy pillow fights with her in your pyjamas. I bet you never even had a single saucy pillow fight with Bellatrix!"
Hermione squared her jaw, getting ready to spit pure poisonous acid at Ron. "I've never had saucy pillow fights in my entire bloody life! Not ever! You have some very odd ideas about… about… You're completely pulling my leg, aren't you?"
"Consider your leg rightly pulled, my darling," Ron chuckled. "Seriously, I wouldn't have minded it any more than I mind Harry being with Ginny. I know she'd have been in good hands… so to speak."
For the tenth time this evening, Hermione rolled her eyes. "Charming, Ron, just charming. Let's talk about Pansy's sex-life instead, shall we? Has she driven you completely bonkers already or only slightly?"
Ron allowed a goofy grin. "Believe it or not, now that Pansy has been staying at the burrow, she's actually learning how to cook."
"You're kidding," Harry snorted. "You must be talking about some other girl also named Pansy."
"It's true," Ron smiled. "So, we lot are sat at the table, right? Me, Fred, George, dad, Bill. And you know we're all healthy eaters. So out comes plates of toad-in-the-hole, Steak and kidney pudding and Shepherd's Pie. So we dig in and massacre those plates and when mum comes out we all thank her for the supper. So mum just shakes her head and out of the kitchen comes Pansy, still wearing an apron and this huge grin on her face."
"Huh, fancy that," Hermione frowned. Though, perhaps it wasn't very nice of her, Hermione had not forgotten all the things Pansy had put her through. Maybe she could and would forgive, one day, but she would need to have a serious talk with Pansy first.
"Meanwhile," laughed Harry. "My girlfriend's too busy focusing on her Quidditch career to bother cooking. So usually, it's just takeaway for us."
Hermione smirked while downing her butterbeer. "Do you realize, Harry, that you could try your hand at cooking as well?"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to get me to burn my own house down, Hermione? Takeaway is just safer."
"No wonder you're getting fatter," Ron winked.
"Oh, you're one to talk, Ron!" Harry challenged. "All that Shepherd's pie has gone straight to your arse."
Ron crossed his hand over his heart and pretended to be in dire pain. "Come on heart, you can pump all that cholesterol around. Just… a… little… longer…" he grimaced in mock-pain and slammed his head on the table, murmuring about traitorous internal organs.
"While Ron is dying over there, literally and figuratively," Harry shook his head. "Consider the fact that you've bagged a filthy rich girlfriend. No cooking for either of you. I bet you have chefs and servants and whatnot."
"I do think Bellatrix expects me to move in with her," said Hermione. "Her giant mansion is nice, it's just… giant. Intimidating."
"Thing with Pansy," started Ron while raising his head and perking up considerably. "Her family has never really shown her much love. Or paid much attention to her at all. She's always been standing in the shadow of her older brother. Says her parents probably haven't even realised she hasn't been home for three months. Maybe that's why she used to be so mean-spirited."
Hermione pursed her lips. "It's not that," said the young witch, pouring herself another drink. "Bellatrix, for example, had a loving family and still has a mean streak. Part of it is simply who we are. Part of it is the loneliness. Loneliness does weird and terrible things to people."
Ron and Harry shared a look. Harry seemed unsure of himself while Ron bit his lip and looked to his friend. Harry let out a sigh before taking her hand. "Hermione," he started. "We never meant to make you feel abandoned. It's just… after all that happened..."
"I understand," Hermione smiled in spite of herself. "You were both hurting, just like I was. We all went through the same war, we all lost people we loved. It's…"
Hermione closed her eyes, squeezing them shut to prevent any tears from falling. "I don't blame you for anything. And, despite everything, it all worked out for the best. I managed to save a wonderful young woman, first my friend and later my girlfriend because of my loneliness. I… I feel I could share my life with Bellatrix. That makes it all worth it. Right?"
Ron seemed to be a bit more comfortable now. "Once this whole mess around the two of you settles down a bit, you should come visit us again. Mum can't shut up about having met the legendary Bellatrix Black. I should never brought her to the Burrow. Mum has already prepared a list of questions to ask her next visit."
The door to their room had flung open at this point and in strutted Bellatrix, nonchalantly tossing her robe on the bed and hanging her hat from the coat rack. "What's this about a visit?" she asked.
"Ron just mentioned there's an open invitation for you to visit him mum at the Burrow," said Hermione. Bellatrix released Zipper first from his lead and second from his harness. Right as Bellatrix closed the door behind her, the now freed giant wasp buzzed around merrily to enjoy his newfound freedom before flying back to his hutch to have a bit of a kip. Perhaps Zipper had the right idea since it was almost midnight… technically well past curfew.
"Oh, more food!" Bellatrix said. "I like the sound of that."
"Drink, Trix?"
"Yes, please," said Bellatrix. "And how is the auror duo doing? Found Lestrange yet?"
Harry and Ron shared a look, first between them and then with Hermione.
"Trix… gets straight to the heart of the uncomfortable subjects, doesn't she?" Hermione replied.
Harry turned to Bellatrix. "He's still at large. It's honestly getting embarrassing. Dolohov's been suggesting on the radio that the Ministry's been hiding him. Starting to believe him at this point."
"The man's like a shadow," Ron sighed. "Sightings all over Europe and too many false flags to count."
"Hm," Bellatrix said while taking a sip. "The twatface I know was never that clever or even particularly sharp. You'll nab him eventually."
Hermione could already feel the painful memories start to resurface. The young witch knew she had to face and deal with her fears one day, but today was not that day. Hermione's voice crackled a little when, in her mind, she lay on the cold floor of Malfoy Manor while Lestrange was getting… getting the poker.
"H-how was your e-evening?" Hermione asked, catching herself and feigning a smile.
"Oh, these Slytherins are alright. Mellowed considerably compared to my era," Bellatrix shrugged. "Far less back-stabby and far more accepting. Could be the influence of the war, though they don't seem to want to talk about that all to much."
Harry bit his lip. "There's more people like that."
"I guess I'm sorry I missed it," Bellatrix shrugged.
"You shouldn't be," Harry said. "You missed nothing special except for a whole lot of misery."
Bellatrix put her finger to her lips. "If I hadn't travelled forward in time, I would have been, what, 47?"
"Hermione told us about the duel today. We could have used someone like you, you know?" Ron said. "Maybe Sirius and Remus would still have been alive if you'd been there to help us."
At the mention of lost friends, Harry lowered his gaze. "I guess we'll never know."
Hermione took Bellatrix' hand and squeezed slightly. "We need to look to the future. The past is done."
"Agreed," said Harry, raising his glass. "A toast. To the future."
"And lots of Weasley-Parkinson babies," added Ron.
"What about Potter-Weasley babies?" Harry challenged.
"Don't push your luck mate. That's still my sister you're talking about."
"I assure you, all we do in bed is synchronised knitting, Ron."
"Good, keep it that way!"
Bellatrix gave Hermione a sideway glance. "What about the Black-Granger babies?"
That made Hermione almost choke on her butterbeer. After her couching fit was done, she glared at Bellatrix. "Trix, you're seventeen. I'm nineteen!"
"So?" Bellatrix frowned. "Us Blacks are encouraged to have children at a young age. I suppose we could wait a few more years, but…"
"Could we not talk about this right now?" Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Yeah," Ron winked at Harry. "Mate, we should clear out so that Hermione and her lovely lady can finally get around to having those saucy pillow fights. How will they ever have babies without saucy pillow fights?!"
"RONALD!" Hermione hissed through clenched teeth. "For the last time, Trix and I have never had nor will we ever have saucy pillow fights! Now drop it before I slam you over the head with the thickest, heaviest book I can find!"
"Right, right, right," laughed Ron. "I know when I've crossed the line. Blimey."
Ron and Harry said their goodbyes and, seeing it was close to midnight, it was time for both witches to go to bed as well. After brushing her teeth, Hermione washed up and changed into her pyjamas, climbing into bed while Trix was getting ready in the bathroom. The young witch thought about doing some light reading, but was simply too tired. Trix would likely be in the mood for lovemaking since, well, when was she not in the mood for lovemaking, but they had to wake up early for Herbology class at seven tomorrow.
Curiously, when Bellatrix emerged from the bathroom she was wearing shorts and a grey top. The only reason she slept in that attire was because they were easiest to get off whenever the mood for lovemaking struck her. Today, however, she made not move to caress, cuddle or fondle. She just lay down next to her, grinning.
A grin which never faded.
Hermione lay on her side, having pulled the blankets over them both. "What?" she asked.
Quick as a flash, something soft hit her. It took her a few moments to realise that she had been hit over the head with Bellatrix' pillow.
"Oh, you did not just do that!" Hermione challenged.
Poof.
Another hit.
"Stop it!" Hermione hissed.
Poof.
Hermione said nothing.
Poof.
Hermione shot up, grabbed her own pillow and angrily started smacking Bellatrix repeatedly. The curly-haired witch started giggling while she frantically started to retaliate. A few minutes later, both girls were giggling wildly while both trying to gain the upper hand.
Zipper popped his head out of his hutch, wondering why his two human friends were making such odd noise all of a sudden. Neither girl noticed him as they were locked in combat to the death. Bellatrix was the more precise combatant, swerving out of the way of Hermione's attacks by snaking her body around while aiming for Hermione's head. Swiftly, Hermione entered berserker-stance, swinging her pillow around as wild and fast as she could in an effort to hit Bellatrix anywhere. Bellatrix, now threatening to be overwhelmed, suddenly stood up to gain the high ground to start to pummel Hermione from above. Of course, this wouldn't stand. Hermione growled and lashed forward, tackling Bellatrix around the waist and pushing her down. Bellatrix let out a yelp when her back hit the mattress, and even moreso when Hermione straddled her and pelted down her pillow on her face again and again.
"I yield! I yield!" Bellatrix managed yell out between giggles. Hermione, fighting her own giggles, collapsed next to her.
"I… I can't believe I just had a saucy pillow fight for the first time," Hermione attempted to stifle her laughter as feathers escaped from their pillows drifted down upon them.
"About time you got deflowered," Bellatrix winked.
The giggles subsided and Hermione found herself gazing into Bellatrix' dark eyes.
"Thanks," Hermione whispered, her eyes becoming watery.
Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "For what?"
"For…" a sob came. Then tears. "For making my life worth living again…"
A gobsmacked Bellatrix could only lay there when Hermione swiftly embraced her, tears mixing with one of the warmest smiles she had ever seen.
She cheated!
The fucking bitch cheated!
Cormac McLaggen was red in the face, still upset hours after the complete humiliation he had endured at the hands of that insufferable and smug curly-haired dwarf! He'd been made a laughing stock in his own house! He'd stormed off Hogwarts grounds, rules be damned. He'd be liable to punch a first year in the face with so much as a glance in his direction. After hours of being worked up, he still wasn't calming down.
It wasn't fair!
She broke her own rule! No physical contact! None! Her own stipulation. And yet he had been slashed across the face several times with a very physical whip. Flitwick was either biased or a fucking idiot to allow it! He swore, if those wounds would leave scars, he'd find a way to make that lesbian hobbit pay.
So what if she was supposedly rich and famous? What had she ever really done to rise to fame other than disappearing for thirty-three years? And the money belonged to her family, not her. She'd never earned any of it. Everything had been thrown right into her lap and now she thought she was entitled to his Hermione.
HIS girl!
It was Hermione who had asked her to come to the Slug club Christmas party, after all. She was the one who showed an obvious interest. And then she started playing hard to get, as girls were wont to do. Hermione was smart and beautiful, a perfect match to his own wit and brawn. It was only a matter of time before she'd give in. No girls could resist him: every single girl he had pursued eventually had. And why not? He was quite a catch, after all.
Cormac'd be buggered before he'd let some self-entitled rich bitch dyke swoop in out of nowhere to take his prize away from him.
He stopped for a moment kick a tree for a moment, needing an outlet for his rage. He grunted again and again, imagining the trunk of the tree to be Bellatrix Black's stupid smug face.
Wait? A tree?
For the first time, Cormac noticed that he must have stomped off from the castle over quite a distance. In fact, he noticed he had unwittingly entered the Forbidden Forest and could barely see the castle through the treeline behind him. He supposed he had been on auto-pilot while lost in thought and should probably find his way back.
The second thing he noticed is just how eerily quiet this forest was. Not a single sound. Not an insect, not a bird. He wondered why…
Cormac grunted in surprise when he felt pressure exploding through his chest, accompanied by the sudden taste of copper in his mouth. He looked down and was horrified to see a massive curved and bloody ivory spear sticking out of his chest. Cormac was hoisted off his feet and seemed to float in the air. The young man grabbed the spear with both hands as pain exploded through his entire body. He found it hard to breath without agony, and had the sensation of drowning.
Suddenly, he started to move forward until whatever had pierced him stepped through the treeline. Hogwarts was in sight in the distance now and as the spear dipped him, Cormac was thrown roughly to the ground. He rolled to his back and squeezed his eyes shut, praying for the awful pain to go away.
It did not.
He heard a terrifying noise, like a distorted whinny from a horse. He opened his eyes… and wished he hadn't.
Looming over him stood a monstrously large black unicorn. Though calling this thing a horse would be too kind. It was taller and more muscular than the largest clydesdale, the 'spear' which had pierced his chest was a long and serrated curved bone sticking out of this thing's head. Massive sharp teeth adorned its bloody mouth. Thankfully, its attention was not upon him, but upon Hogwarts. Or something at Hogwarts.
The horse-thing raised its head and let other another one of its distorted whinnies, much louder and angrier this time. It was like a wolf howling at the moon, only far more high-pitched and distorted. Horse-like, but not horse-like.
Cormac grimaced and started to crawl away desperately. The pain was horrible and he was no doubt losing a lot of blood, but he had no doubt this thing could kill him without trying.
Unfortunately, this caused the beast to focus its attention on him instead. The monster craned its head down and growled. And its eyes… its eyes! Its eyes were in fact clusters of three glowing blue orbs on both sides of its face. There was an intelligence behind those eyes.
A malevolent intelligence.
"W-wait," he struggled to speak, coughing up more blood if he did so. "I… I can help you! Whatever you want…"
The monster took a step closer to him with clawed feet where hooves should be.
"Stop! Just… s-stop!" he closed his eyes when he could crawl no further and the creature's maw was mere inches from his face. "My family… My family's big in the Ministry."
The monstrous unicorn let out a bellow and sank his teeth into Cormac's body, shaking him about as if he was a rag-doll before carrying him off into the Forbidden Forest.
His dying screams broke the oppressive silence of the forest.
But not for long.
Chapter 46: Family HistoryChapter Text
Zipper was looking rather unhappy while being dipped into a pail of warm water, his head sticking out of the soap bubbles while his antennae twitched. Meanwhile, Bellatrix continued scrubbing relentlessly. Though Zipper tried to escape a few times, Bellatrix yanked him right back into the water. "Ugh, the smell is finally subsiding, Zip," muttered Bellatrix. "I hope you've learned today that skunks are not your friend! I'm keeping the windows closed for the time being."
Zipper's escape from the tower had led to a misadventure with one of the local skunks, which had led to a misadventure of an hour of scrubbing him clean. Hermione barely noticed, not even the smell. She had her nose in Black family records, documents, papers and general research: she had not forgotten about the Black family motto, even though it was not necessary anymore to get in Andromeda's good graces. Hermione was sorting through files, scribbling notes and reviewing her findings, as she did often after school hours. In truth, it was starting to get a little vexing. Still, Bellatrix had Zipper to worry about. After finding a towel, she put Zipper on the table and gently dried the creature. "Careful Zip," she said as the insect shook off some remaining droplets of water. "Your wings are still wet."
Seeing as Zipper couldn't fly yet, he teleported to his hutch with a crack. Bellatrix didn't miss a beat and filled his bowl with some lumps of sugar.
"Zipper's clean again, thank Merlin."
"Hm," replied Hermione, without looking up from her work.
"We've got to keep that window closed more securely. He can just move the handle with his mandibles and crawl out through the crack."
"Hm."
Bellatrix took a moment to pat the eating wasp on the head before grabbing her omniculars. "Twat-womble's still missing. I destroyed him so thoroughly he ran all the way home to hide behind his mother's skirt, no doubt."
"Hm."
From their private room, high up in the tower, Bellatrix had a perfect view of the castle and its surroundings. She quite liked taking out her omniculars and having a gander at whatever struck her fancy. Her current object of interest with the borses which had turned up the previous day. The borses appeared to have migrated along the side of the lake and had now settled near Godric's Park on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. Villagers and tourists were already coming down there to admire and feed them. The borses seemed to quite enjoy the attention. And the food. Bellatrix doubted that the borses would leave any time soon, considering Hogsmeade was quite far from the Forbidden Forest… not to mention the murder-unicorn dwelling inside of it.
"I'm happy to say that our borses seem to be doing well," said Bellatrix after putting her omniculars down. "They're less like horses and more like really big park ducks, it seems."
"Hm," sounded Hermione,
Bellatrix crossed her arms. "I'm leaving you for Vicky."
"Hm."
"We've been shagging behind your back for two weeks."
"Hm."
"In this very bed! In this very room!"
"Hm."
Bellatrix stood next to Hermione, a smile plastered on her face. "And we're going to burn all your books."
"Hm… wait, what?!" Hermione blinked and put down her quill. "What are you on about?"
Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "Oh, that she responds to!"
Bellatrix sauntered over to Hermione and gently wrapped her arms around her. Hermione, in turn, let out an annoyed grunt and almost batted her away while continuing to work. "Hermie, it's Saturday morning. Get your nose out of the books."
"No," was her simple reply.
"Nervous? About this afternoon?" Bellatrix muttered, taking a moment to kiss the top of her head. In a few hours, Hermione and her parents would be going to Strasbourg where she would be taking the stand in front of the International Wizarding Tribunal for the next phase of her parents' fight against the Ministry of Magic. Hermione, not someone who enjoyed being the center of attention, had become steady more uneasy about it. Bellatrix had decided to come along as moral support and hoped that the two of them could find some time together to explore Strasbourg later that evening before returning home.
"Yeah," Hermione said. "Keeps my mind distracted."
Most of the documents Hermione had been pouring over came from the messiest and least organized part of their library: the tower which housed many of the ancient family related documents in cases, crates and shelves which were piling out. Compared to Bellatrix, Hermione was an early riser and had used those early morning hours to hunt down the documents useful to her research. Naturally, she hadn't finished when her stay at Catterborough Woodhouse had ended and had asked permission from Andromeda to take these along, which her younger-now-elder sister had given. "I do believe I've made a breakthrough, Trix."
"Oh?" Bellatrix chuckled. "Does that mean you'll stop slipping out of bed on free days to read musty old parchment and snuggle up with me instead?"
Hermione made a face. "This is important, Trix!" she snapped.
"Right," Bellatrix raised both eyebrows.
"I've just had a major breakthrough and I was just confirming it with a secondary source. You're going to be gobsmacked, Trix."
"Alright, gobsmack me with my own family history."
"Sorry for yelling," replied Hermione, looking back to her notebook. "Have you ever looked into your own family history?"
Bellatrix shrugged. "Not particularly."
Hermione nodded. "A shame. Because it's a amazing journey. Some of these old diaries, records and genealogies are ever so fascinating. Trix, the Black family appeared to have originated in Ireland around the Roman era. Or, at least, those are the oldest records I could find. These accounts are mostly second hand, written down centuries after the fact, but three separate sources confirm it. Your oldest ancestors had a very strong and proud druidic background and lived on the southern-most shores of Ireland, in an area which is now Cork County. You were called the Ord Dubh at the time. Not a family, but rather a druidic order known for their distinct black robes. From what I can tell you held important positions among the community, being healers, religious leaders and adjudicators. The local muggles looked to them for guidance."
Bellatrix couldn't help but raise her head high. "Of course," she smiled an undoubtedly self-satisfied smirk.
"A kingdom was formed, Corcu Loígde, in the early second century and its ruling family had massive conflicts with the Ord Dubh to such a degree that they decided to leave to seek their fortunes elsewhere," said Hermione. "About half the order moved to mainland Britain and lived in what is now Wales for a bit, before coming into money working with the local Roman gentry. Ord Dubh was now less of a loosely affiliated druidic order and started to resemble a wide-branched family. This family moved deeper into England near the area which is now Manchester and where you have lived to this very day. In fact, the ancient Blacks had a Castellum on the same soil where Catterborough Woodhouse now stands."
Bellatrix had to admit to being fascinated. Of course she had known some of the history of her family, but anything more than a century ago was nothing more than cursory. Naturally, she wasn't surprised to learn that her ancient ancestors were capable, strong and respected. In fact, it filled her with pride. She, after all, was the daughter of great men and women from the past. It was a legacy she hoped she would add to; to honour her family line by achieving greatness.
"Story doesn't end there," chuckled Hermione. "Name an event in British History before 1689 and the House of Black had involvement in it. Most notably, the Wars of the Roses between 1455 and 1487. Arguably, the House of Black was the biggest victor of that conflict. They successfully played the Houses of York and Lancaster against each other, and established strong familiar ties with the House of Tudor by having one of their daughters marry into it. A witch marrying into what would become a royal house. Wrap your head around that. The House of Black gained massive amounts of lands, properties and titles from this conflict to a degree and is still a large source of its current wealth. In fact, the House of Black was a big opponent of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy because, in its original form, the statute prohibited wizards owning property within the muggle political sphere, meaning they would lose about 90% of their holdings. They were powerful enough to enforce an amendment which allowed them to own properties through subsidiaries. All the while, until deep into the 17th century, the Blacks resisted first Romanization and Christianization within the wizarding world, advocating a return to Gaelic and druidic roots. Remember that, because that's going to be important."
Bellatrix nodded. Of course her family had played stupid muggles. Because they were muggles. And stupid. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black indeed. Strong in magic and strong in tradition. So much to be proud of.
"Have you heard about Parcival Black?" Hermione smiled at her.
Bellatrix crossed her arms. "Is that a joke? Of course I have!" Bellatrix huffed. "Parcival Black is the writer of the 'On the Nature of Purity' pamphlet back in the 17th century, a pure-blood paragon and one of the fore-runners of the blood-purity doctrine." Immediately, she regretted her words, considering she basically praised Parcival Black as a pure-blood visionary in front of her muggle-born girlfriend. Bellatrix pursed her lips and looked away, but Hermione didn't seem phased at all. Her girlfriend reached over and gave her the pamphlet. On the cover, it contained the Black family crest underneath an animated drop of red blood.
"Is that the pamphlet?" Hermione asked. Hermione, however, was smiled broadly. And it was not a kind smile. It was a smug and self-assured smile. A smile that seemed to scream 'I know more than you do!'.
"Yes," Bellatrix replied warily. "Why?"
"It's fake," Hermione grinned.
"Come again?!" Bellatrix blinked.
Hermione rummaged through some more papers and produced a second pamphlet, looking to be much older than the other one. She held it out for Bellatrix to take. Immediately, she spotted the difference, starting with the title. It read 'On the Nature of Purity and the Purity of Nature'. The Black family crest was again at the bottom, but instead of a drop of blood, there was a beautiful illustration of an oak. Gobsmacked, she handed the pamphlet back to Hermione. Her girlfriend opened it, rather reverently and started to read. "A tree can stand proud and tall, but only if its roots are strong enough to carry it. To hold it firm when faced with the winds that would seek to down it or the lightning that would seek to topple it. Roots nurture. Roots hold. As wizards and witches grow and spread their branches, they too must not forget that it is their roots which nurture them and their roots which hold them. Today, many of our magical brothers and sisters have forgotten about their roots, their once proud heritage. They have forgotten about the first magicks, the nature magicks. They have forgotten about the Old Gods who watched over us. They have forgotten how we struggled to earn a place in this world…"
Bellatrix blinked. "That's… that's not right at all!" she yelled, grabbed the other pamphlet and read out loud after she had found the passage. "Today, many of our magical brothers and sisters have forgotten about their roots, their once proud heritage. They have forgotten about the first magicks, the blood magicks. They have forgotten about the power blood holds within us. They have forgotten how we struggled when our blood was tainted by that of lesser beings which pretended to be us…"
Hermione smiled again. "Blood purity wasn't always a popular idea, nor was it a particularly old one. A great injustice has been inflicted upon Parcival Black, I fear."
"What… what is this?!" Bellatrix swallowed hard.
"Simply put, a forgery," said Hermione. "Created in the early 19th century, two hundred years later. It was a propaganda move to try to make it seem as if the notion of blood purity was a much older idea than it actually was. Your ancestor Lysander Black lies at the heart of it. Your family crest was established in the 13th century. With this forgery, Lysander Black tried to create a missing link between the ancient Black family crest and the then modern day notion of blood purity. Lysander had all the original copies of the pamphlet tracked down and destroyed to be able to tie your family crest to the notion of blood purity. The original pamphlet we have here might be the last one in existence. The last proof of Parcival Black's true legacy. Ironically, this one remaining pamphlet was missed in the purge because it was used as a bookmark in a 17th century ledger and simply overlooked."
Bellatrix' mind was reeling. The room started to spin. "I… I've got to sit down for a moment.
Hermione quickly stood up and let Bellatrix have her chair. A good thing too because her knees were about to give out. What… what could all of this mean? "Our family motto 'Toujours Pur'," said Bellatrix. "Always pure. There's… there's very little room for interpretation there."
"Yes there is," Hermione spun around on her heels, still smiling. "Always pure."
"Yes," Bellatrix hissed. "Always pure of blood."
"No, don't you see? Blood isn't specifically mentioned, and if you look at the original pamphlet," Hermione started. "It's an impassioned plea for wizards of the British isles to return to their druidic roots. All you will see are cultural references and nothing about blood or bloody purity. Parcival stresses the importance of family and kinship between all wizards and witches, all of them, regardless of blood status! Don't you get it? Don't you see what always pure actually meant. It was never about blood purity, but always about cultural purity. Always pure. Always pure Gaelic!"
Bellatrix blinked. "Gaelic," the curly-haired witch swallowed hard. In her mind it made sense. "All of the sacred twenty-eights have roots going back to Ireland. All wizards and witches in the UK are Gaels if you go back long enough."
"Your family held on to their Gaelic roots. It's why your family have always been strong potioneers and herbologists! It's why your family doesn't celebrate Christmas but still adheres to ancient Gaelic rites. It's why you have a statue of Cernunnos in your family chapel. Hell, you yourself are even paying regular tribute to the Horned God through an offering of copper or tin, far into the 20th century. Your family crest is rife with Gaelic symbols, the Raven as a symbol for magical prowess, for example, as well as the fact that there are three of them. Your Gaelic heritage is in your blood, Trix, if you pardon the expression."
Bellatrix, her mind still reeling, shook her head vigorously. "No, it can't be true! Always pure of blood is what our family is all about! Purity of blood is our family's most important value!"
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Are you defending blood purity?"
The moment she realized what Hermione was trying to say, she deflated and cast her eyes downward. "No, it's just…" she whispered. "I… I don't know what to think right now."
"Hard to accept that you've been lied to all your life?" Hermione replied.
As usual, her girlfriend was right on point. Bellatrix closed her eyes and measured her breathing. Blood purity. Magical purity. Family. All these things have been cornerstones of her entire life. Of course, it had caused her some misery as such staunch traditions were wont to, and meeting Hermione had forced her to rethink many thing she had once held as unshakable truths. And now this. What would her father say? What would her sisters say? This time, it was Bellatrix who needed some time to think, some kind of distraction. Hermione squeezed her shoulder and she left her be for a moment. While Hermione continued to transcribe her findings for an undoubtedly happy Andromeda, Bellatrix plopped down on her bed and started reading Parcival Black's pamphlet, the original one.
Though she still had some trouble actually wrapping her mind around the whole thing, she did find herself impressed and even somewhat proud of her ancestor's passion for his own Gaelic heritage. Perhaps… perhaps her own Gaelic heritage could be something she could be proud of too.
Strasbourg was a beautiful city. This was something Bellatrix learned the moment she stepped out of the portkey hub and was stood in the streets of this old city on the French-German border. Unfortunately, she and Hermione didn't get to spend much time on the streets. They, together when Hermione's parents, had been fetched by Emily Watson. Bellatrix took an instant dislike to the blonde American woman, finding her obnoxious and pushy. She had led the five of them into a side-office for a pre-hearing briefing during which they had been drilled on how to act and how to knobble the tribunal in their favour. Apparently every little detail mattered, even if you an observer in the audience.
Emily reminded Bellatrix of the most ambitious of Slytherins: anything to win. Anything. Regardless of cost or consequences.
The tribunal chamber was actually quite beautiful, clad with black marble and golden adornings. The tribunal, two witches and a wizard looking to be all hundreds of years old, were sat behind a tall wooden bench and clad in traditional robes and hats. There was a stand near the bench for witnesses. The claimants, Hermione's parents, sat at a table next to Emily, while the defense, a duo of stuffy Ministry lawyers, sat at a table to the right of them. The many benches behind them were empty, since the hearing was closed to the public. In fact, it had been a bit of a battle to allow Bellatrix to stay for the proceedings at all. Emily had argued that Bellatrix, as the supportive girlfriend, would put Hermione at ease when she'd take the stand. Bellatrix, wearing her Sunday best and her traditional hat, was sat next to Hermione father.
Hermione had been sworn in after taking the witness stand. She had decided to wear her casual clothing to make her feel more comfortable, and had been allowed to have Zipper in her lap as an emotional support wasp. The wasp buzzed slightly while being stroked but remained mostly still. Hermione, however, looked decidedly uncomfortable. Just as Emily Watson had apparently hoped.
"I know this is hard for you, miss Granger," spoke the white-clad solicitor while pacing back and forth in between the bench and the witness stand. "The Ministry moved for dismissal when you suddenly returned, claiming that was no case with you no longer missing. I argue that the case becomes even more poignant now, because miss Granger can share her own experiences with us. Let us start what happened immediately after the war. During the Second Wizarding War, you were forced to apply a memory charm to both your parents. May I ask why you took this drastic measure?"
Hermione nodded. "I… this was during the height of the Second Wizarding War," said Hermione, her voice a shadow of her usual confident self to a degree that it pained Bellatrix to hear it. "Death Eaters ruled the Ministry and were actively hunting family members of 'undesirables' such as myself. I had to protect my parents."
"A brave act," said Emily. "And a difficult feat for even strong and experienced witches. Eventually, your Second Wizarding War came to an end. Tell me, did the Ministry help you in any way?"
Hermione slowly started shaking her head. "No."
"Could you share your experience with us? Start at the beginning. In your own words."
"Well. I asked permission to travel through the international portkey hub to Australia in early June so that I could find my parents," said Hermione. "Permission was denied, travel restrictions were cited as the Ministry was still recovering from the take-over."
"Objection, your honours," spoke the Ministry solicitor. "It is a well-known fact that the Ministry was in shambles at the time and international travel was restricted to prevent Death Eaters from escaping the country. This is not relevant to the case."
Emily turned to the tribunal. "I seek to establish a connection between miss Granger's treatment by the Ministry right after the war and her subsequent treatment in the months after."
"Overruled," said the elder witch of the tribunal. "Please continue, miss Watson."
Emily smirked. "Your honours, in case you just missed it, let me point out we have yet again heard the same excuse given on multiple occasions already. The Ministry was in shambles. The Ministry was not capable of functioning properly while in the process of ousting the Death Eater elements. Yet may I repeat. During the take-over, the same people came to work every day as before to work the same jobs as before. After the take-over, the same people came to work every day as during the take-over to work the same jobs as before. There's a term for that, your honours: business as usual."
Despite her misgivings, Bellatrix had to conclude that Emily was rather awesome to behold. The blonde solicitor had a way of twisting words to her favour. She could see that Hermione was impressed as well: if Emily hadn't told Hermione to keep her expression as neutral as could be, she no doubt would have allowed herself a smile. But Bellatrix could tell Hermione was becoming more confident by the way she had raised her shoulders.
"Miss Granger, did the Ministry give you any other kind of assistance? Financially or even morally?"
"Nothing," Hermione shook her head. "I paid for my own ticket to a flight to Australia. Thankfully, I had put some money aside. In Australia, there were members of the Australian Federal Auror Guild who were kind enough to help me find them as I had no clues where to even begin looking. My parents were restored to themselves end of June, just in time for me to cancel the sale of our house. We actually quite enjoyed taking all our belongings out of storage and re-decorating our house. It was a good time."
Bellatrix noticed that, next to her, Hermione's father smiled warmly.
"When did you realize that… you were not yourself?"
Hermione closed her eyes. "When I finally had time to think about it. During the quiet evenings when I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. When the days started dragging. When I realized that nothing would ever be the same again. When the nightmares started."
"You were tortured during the war," Emily said. "Witness reports have already been submitted to the court so there is no need to repeat the details here, other than that it was quite brutal. You were eighteen years old at the time. Your entire youth has been overshadowed by a war, miss Granger. You've endured battles, displacement and torture, all in your teens. By all accounts, you should be considered a child-soldier."
"I fought for what I believed in," said Hermione. "I fought for my continued existence. There would be no place for me in Voldemort's England."
"You were forced into a role you never should have been asked to play because the toothless Ministry was unable or unwilling to fight Voldemort!" Emily whipped around, glowering at the two cringing Ministry solicitors. "A Ministry who needed children to do its job for it! Tell me, miss Granger, do you resent them for it?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Yes."
"Do you believe you deserved help and aftercare?"
"Yes."
"Do you believe others deserved aftercare?"
"Yes."
"Do you believe the Ministry failed its citizens?"
"Yes. From the very start."
Emily paced again. "Miss Granger," asked Emily. "You've seen the lies spread about you in the newspaper at the Ministry's behest. Evidence of the Ministry's involvement in their little smear campaign has been submitted to the court and has been approved as evidence. Honestly, at the time if wasn't certain if you were still alive or not. Yet there was no respect for the dead or a war hero. Miss Grange, you have been accused to being a liar, a fraud, a loose woman and a manipulator who supposedly stole other people accomplishments."
The Ministry solicitor raised again. The man was looking to be noticeably sweaty and uncomfortable. "Objection, your honours," he started. "The wording of the so-called accusations is legally vague enough to justify reasonable doubt about…"
Emily whirled around, bristling. "Oh, pull the other one! You should be ashamed of yourself for dragging a poor girl's name all through the mud for your own devices!"
Bellatrix almost started when the lead witch banged her gavel. "Watch yourself, miss Watson. This is a court, not a theatre. We will not tolerate further outbursts."
"I apologize to the court," said Emily, bowing slightly. "I seek to establish a pattern of behaviour. Despite not helping her, the Ministry sang miss Granger's praises until her disappearance and the lawsuit, after which the Ministry started their smear campaign."
"Objection overruled. Please continue, miss Watson."
"How did you feel when you saw the articles, miss Granger?"
"Hurt. Betrayed," Hermione pursed her lips. "Angry. Sad. I'm aware that my future prospects within the wizarding world look dim now because of all that slander."
"The Ministry slandered you, having impugned your character and ruined your good name when you were not capable to defending yourself some such accusations," said Emily. "Aside from that, the Ministry has done actual damage to your future career prospects."
"Yes," said Hermione, closing her eyes. "I'm… not sure what to do."
"You went through a lot, more than a young woman ever should have because the Ministry was incapable of protecting their own people. Tell me and be honest. Have you ever had… suicidal thoughts?"
Next to her, Bellatrix saw Hermione's father seize up. Bellatrix already knew what the answer was going to be as she and Hermione had actually discussed this very topic months ago when they were still having their nightly chats over the Fae Mirror, where she and Hermione had shared some of their deepest thoughts.
Hermione closed her eyes, a pained expression crossing her features. When she opened her eyes, she looked at Bellatrix for support. The curly-haired witch did the best she could, offering her an encouraging smile. She really wanted to rush up to Hermione and hug her tightly: Merlin above, she looked so incredibly sad.
"Yes."
The answer was soft. A mere whisper. But the way it was said made it sound like a hammer striking an anvil.
A shock went through Bellatrix when Hermione's father slammed both fists on the table. He trembled from rage and helplessness. Hermione's mother, eyes filled with tears too, tried to calm him down. He simply stood up and stared pacing around.
"Mister Granger is clearly distraught," said the lead witch. "Bailiff, would you kindly take the Grangers to the rec room and provide them with any needs they might have?"
Though Bellatrix stayed behind herself, she herself wasn't any less distraught than Hermione's parents.
Emily, however, didn't miss a beat. "I realize this is difficult for you, miss Granger. But could you elaborate?"
Hermione swallowed hard before she continued, all the while stroking Zipper who was still settled on her lap. "When I started Hogwarts again, I threw myself onto my school work. It served as an ample distraction… at first. I felt pain, I felt loneliness, I felt abandoned. There were times when I stood in front of the mirror with a wand pressed against my chin. And I wondered what it would be like if everything would just… stop. And what a relief that would be. But then… I met someone. Someone who made it better. Someone who helped me endure."
Hermione looked at Bellatrix with red, teary eyes.
Emily nodded. "Thank you, miss Granger. I have no further questions," she said and then taking her seat next to Bellatrix. The blonde American certainly seemed very pleased with herself. On the other bench, the Ministry solicitors were sharing some harsh whispers, apparently unsure of how to proceed.
Emily turned to Bellatrix, whispered. "They are likely discussing whether or not they want to cross-examine Hermione. It might make them look bad after that sterling performance she gave. Contrary to what the tribunal just said, the courtroom is indeed a theatre."
Performance?
PERFORMANCE?!
And just like that, Bellatrix hated Emily again.
"Does the defense wish to examine the witness?" the lead Witch pressed.
One sweaty man slowly stood up and slowly moved to the stand. "Miss Granger," said the sweaty man. "Did you ever ask the Ministry for help directly?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I asked you for help to find my parents. I asked you for permission to travel abroad through the portkey hub. You gave neither."
The man shifted uncomfortably. "Ahum, yes," he started. "Let me rephrase that. Did you ever ask for help with your… mental issues?"
Hermione responded swiftly. "No."
"Should we give what is not asked for?" stated the man. "Especially in light of the turmoil we had to deal with after the end of the war? I think you and I can both agree that the Death Eater elements had to be purged from within our ranks, miss Granger. That took considerable time and resources."
"It's human decency," spat an angry Hermione. "Something the Ministry has always lacked. And it wasn't just about me. It never was. Not even for my father. Everyone needed help after what happened at Hogwarts. Everyone was hurting. Everyone lost someone to them. And you lot did nothing for anyone."
The man shifted uncomfortably again, looking at his companion who slowly, almost imperceptibly, shook his head. The man pursed his lips. "No further questions, your honours."
Next to her, Bellatrix could see the corners of Emily's mouth curl up slightly. They had done exactly what she had hoped. Indeed, she would have done well in Slytherin.
As it turned out, Hermione was left far too emotionally drained to explore Strasbourg with her and Bellatrix certainly couldn't blame her. The first thing Bellatrix did after they left the courtroom was to share a long overdue hug with Hermione, something her girlfriend was very much grateful for. Since then, she had given Hermione to her father, who had wrapped an arm around her shoulder and hadn't let go of her since. Bellatrix didn't mind so far as she chatted with Emma Granger, mostly questions about the wizarding world and House Black. It was decided that Bellatrix would join them for dinner in London and she would then sleep over at the Granger home until they would both go back to Hogwarts the next day.
It was rather busy at the international portkey hub today, with queues of people waiting to be let through the portkeys to many European destinations. As it stood, they were only third in line at the moment after about half an hour of waiting. It was time for the group to have their passports checked and stamped for travel. Hermione put down the modified cat carrier containing Zipper to look for her passport in her coat. Bellatrix figured she should do the same. A few moments later, she had found her passport, only for a thin man in a black cloak to bump into her in such a way that it almost knocked her off her feet.
"Hey!" Bellatrix shouted after him as the man hurried away without so much of an apology. "RUDE!"
"Are you alright, Bellatrix?" asked Jack Granger.
"Pfft," Bellatrix patted herself. "People are so rude these days. I'm fine, though."
"Good," said Jack. "Ready for a wild ride?"
Bellatrix shrugged. "Nothing special about portkey travel."
"For you perhaps," he replied with a sly smirk.
Together, the four of them touched the portkey and instantly the sensation of being blasted through a thin rubber tube overcame them. Seriously, how could somehow find this unpleasant? It was really quite soothing and it was not as if they had to do anything. It was literally the safest way to travel: no muggle carriages, no muggle airplanes, hell not even brooms. Safe, fast and reliable. Bellatrix closed her eyes and simply enjoyed the sensation. A few moments later, she was deposited on both her feet. When she opened her eyes, however, she frowned.
This wasn't the Leeds international portkey hub.
She was standing of the middle of a field in what looked to be the English countryside. Her feet were touching grass, she was facing nearby trees and she heard the sound of sheep in the distance. What on Earth was going on here?
Bellatrix never had the chance to investigate: she felt a jolt of magic discharge slam into her back, expanding to encompass her entire body. Her muscles went numb and she saw the ground fast approaching. The wind was knocked out of her when slammed her chest into the ground. She was vaguely aware of her hat rolling away and the sound of footsteps approaching. There was one last sharp intake of breath before a deep, dreamless sleep overtook her.