Chapter 2: IIChapter Text
Whether it be good or bad luck that Hermione had yet to run into the one person she truly needed to see, she was yet to decide. She didn't see Andromeda for the rest of the afternoon, nor did she cross paths with the youngest sibling. Most likely the three of them were busy with whatever purpose their father had for being here today, be that watching Bellatrix practice- it had to be more than that, as Hermione couldn't picture the man being the type of parent to show a true interest in his child's extracurriculars- or something else, but whatever it was kept all three of them away from the Slytherin common room well through the afternoon and dinner. Hermione would have found herself eating alone had it not been for two of the girls who spoke to her this morning, two blonde girls in her year that continued to ask questions about Durmstrang and whether or not the boys were as attractive as rumor claimed them to be.
She once again thought of Viktor, and found herself laughing as she said yes, as well as praising their dancing and Quidditch skills. One of the girls was brave enough to ask if Hermione could divulge the location of the school, to which she could only shake her head and claim the land was unplottable. Viktor, as well as the other students who visited Hogwarts that year, were spelled to keep the location to themselves, unable to even speak if it was thought they would break such a tightly kept secret. The girls accepted the response and moved on to topics they considered much more interesting- deciding the most attractive Slytherin boys, listing the best and worst professors, and complaining about their classes.
It all felt so terribly mundane, such a simple pleasure to have the worst thing happen to you be your crush rejecting you, or having to take a tough professor this semester. The topics went on well through dinner, and the two girls- who Hermione did learn were named Amelia and Lilith- walked with Hermione back to the common room, all of them well engrossed by the conversation. It was as enjoyable as it was simple, and Hermione suddenly longed to have girl friends during her time in school. Ginny would always remain her best friend, but she wasn't there in the beginning, and the two of them had never been much for talking about boys, considering the only ones they knew all too well were Ginny's brother or Harry, and neither provided too much gossip. Having these sort of talks was a nice change of pace for her, and she enjoyed it well enough to even continue in their dorm, all three girls crowded on Lilith's bed.
Hermione was so distracted by the story Amelia was telling- about the disaster that her first kiss turned out to be two summers ago- that she completely missed the door to the dorm room opening and a new arrival stalking in. It wasn't until Amelia stopped talking and snapped her eyes to the figure did Hermione take a look. And immediately lost all breath in her at the sight.
The figure was turned away, focused on digging through her trunk at the end of her bed that only her back was visible to Hermione, but there was no doubt that the girl in question was Bellatrix Black. If there was any thought that Bellatrix's wild and untamable hair was due to her stay for more than a dozen year in Azkaban, it was immediately disproven in this instant. Her hair was little more than a thick, dark mane, more disordered than Andromeda's, and most of it pushed over to one side of her head. The girl was dressed in her Quidditch outfit still, green and black padded clothing that outline a very lithe figure, and Hermione was too captivated to look away.
Eventually, Bellatrix found whatever object she desired, and turned and stalked back to the door, never paying any of the other room's occupants a single glance. Either she was in a terrible mood, or it was a common occurrence. Given what Hermione knew about the woman, she couldn't say for sure that it wasn't the latter.
"Have you met her yet?" Lilith said once they knew for sure the topic of their conversation was out of ear shot. Both of them turned to eagerly look at Hermione, excited for the shot of gossip Hermione might not yet be aware of. "We saw you had breakfast with Andromeda and Narcissa, so it's surprising you haven't met their sister yet. That's Bellatrix Black."
"She's insane and-" Amelia began, looking back to the door quickly as if she feared Bellatrix would come marching back into the room just to smite them all. "She's always getting into trouble. She does more detention in the Forbidden Forest than our entire year combined, the crazy welch. Not to mention how many house points she always cost us."
"But," Lilith was quick to add, "She does get us a lot of house points too, way more than she loses, I'll tell you. I overheard some of our professor's talking about her last year; she's top of our class, and they said even without such a famed last name her skills alone would get her any job she wanted. Of course, not that that matters, given that she is the Black heir."
Lilith is right that none of that will matter, but not for the reasons she thinks, Hermione thought bitterly. So much supposed talent, and Bellatrix will throw it all away in such a short time, all for one man who wanted to do so many evil in their world. How much of an impact would having such a powerful witch on their side do? How many lives would be spared if Hermione succeeded in her mission? Well more than enough to make this a job that could not fail. No matter what, Hermione will change the dark witch's stance.
Amelia and Lilith quickly lost interest in discussing Bellatrix, and instead decided they were much more interested in hearing about Hermione's love life back in Durmstrang. There wasn't much to tell, save for her stories about Viktor, which the girls did make fun of her for doing so little. The blush on Hermione's cheeks was not faked, nor did she fake the many laughs as the three of them got ready for bed. Not once while they were together did Bellatrix return to the room.
Hermione fell asleep surprisingly easy that night, pleased to have made friends with two people who had nothing to do with her job involving Bellatrix. Andromeda was a vital part of this whole plan, and a part of Hermione did feel as if she were using the girl in an attempt to get closer to her sister, and while that wasn't not accurate, it wasn't the complete truth either. Andromeda was sweet, and friendly, and a seemingly all around nice person despite her placement in Slytherin, and Hermione valued the friendship the girl so readily offered her anyway.
The next morning, when she woke up and dressed herself for the day, Andromeda was already waiting for her in the hall once more, and Hermione refused to think anymore that she was using the girl. Their friendship, while very new, was real.
"Hey! Sorry for ditching you for lunch and dinner yesterday. I hope you found some housemates to befriend?" Andromeda gave a little wave that Hermione repeated, and noticed Narcissa was absent today, not that Hermione would complain about that. "Our father was with us all yesterday after Bella's practice, so we didn't return back to the castle until late."
"No worries, I met Lilith and Amelia during dinner, they kept me occupied most of the night."
Andromeda chuckled at that as they reached the common room, both of them in no rush to reach the Great Hall and so they sat down on one of the many couches, facing one another. "They'll do that. They're great, but they talk a lot. Bella hates them. Well- to be fair to them, she hates most of the students here."
"I've heard a lot about your sister." Hermione decided to broach the subject this way, and while it wasn't quite true that she heard a lot about Bellatrix yesterday, she did need to know more. Mainly if whatever finally pushed her to becoming a Death Eater happened already, or if Hermione had time to prevent it. She pleaded it wasn't the former, and that McGonagall's hunch about just needing the proper support held true.
"I can't imagine it was many good things." Despite the easy way Andromeda said it, Hermione could tell she did not agree with the things said about her sister. Yes, definitely, definitely a close pair. It was nearly sad to think that in just a few years Bellatrix would so readily turn her back on what was an important relationship to her. "Bella is... Bella, I don't even think words can properly describe her. Like Narcissa, she has a tough exterior, and it takes a lot for someone to be able to see the real her, but I promise, if someone is lucky enough to see that... she's truly an amazing person."
Hermione had just moved to grab one of the mugs of water and two cups on the side when a voice, appearing as if out of no where, said, "Are you lamenting my failures as father likes to do, dear sister?" It took everything in Hermione not to drop the glass chalice as her heart beat too quickly.
There was not a person in their world who would not be able to identify Bellatrix Black by that unique voice alone. Though it shifted slightly with age, a slightly higher pitched tone that danced on the edge of mad screeching, this Bellatrix had a more raspy tone, lower and calmer as Hermione slowly turned to take the other girl in.
As adults, people still claimed Andromeda looked eerily similar to her older sister, enough so that upon their first meeting, Harry believed her to be the Death Eater. Hermione never disagreed, save for the light shade of hair and wider eyes Andromeda had. However, when Andromeda stood up to greet her sister just now, and the two of them stood side by side to look at Hermione, the two were almost indistinguishable.
Andromeda's hair was not quite as light as it would become later in life, and while it could not be considered anywhere near as wild as her sister's, it was still a feat to tell them a part at first glance. But there were nonphysical signs that a thorough observer may pick up, such as their stances. Andromeda was more relaxed, her shoulders slouched in such a way Hermione could already picture Narcissa scowling at, whereas Bellatrix stood straight back, her posture immaculate save for her head, cocked to the side as she appraised Hermione.
And the fact that Bellatrix was absolutely, undeniably, unequivocally, gorgeous. Insanity looked good on no one, of that Bellatrix was no exception, but now, in this time, her dark eyes were clear, her skin unmarred, her teeth straight and white, and her hair free of any graying strands that developed through such stressful conditions as Azkaban. She was dressed in a simple but nonetheless expensive high necked black dress, tight around her chest and waist and flowing when it reached her hips. It revealed pale, toned legs that ended in black heels, and equally muscled arms. Wherever she hid her wand was beyond Hermione, who found it hard to suck in any breath as she continued to stare.
It was only when Andromeda gave a pointed cough did Hermione jerk her gaze away from the oldest Black- who, Hermione noted, did not seem put off by her staring. "Bella, this is the new girl I was telling you about, Hermione Potter. Hermione, this is my sister Bellatrix."
Hermione's voice did not waver only through a strong effort of will as she said hello. It would be hard, she realized only in this moment, to look at the girl before her and not see the woman who pinned to the floor of Malfoy Manor, to not see the woman who tortured her and screeched incoherently for what felt like hours. This Bellatrix and that Bellatrix were one and the same, something the seventeen year old would grow to be. Unless Hermione could intervene, could knock her off of the dangerous path she was to follow.
"Does the new girl speak, or is she incapable of doing anything other than gawking?" So, Bellatrix's vicious tongue was not crafted from her Death Eater future, but something she honed young, and used often, if Andromeda's apologetic face was any indication. The eldest Black turned to face her sister, Hermione utterly forgotten and dismissed behind her. "What have I told you about playing with rabble, Dromeda?"
Hermione huffed, and could not stop herself from saying, "And what part of me is rabble?"
Her friends always did say she was bad at controlling her temper, but this blasted girl reminded her too much of Draco for her to keep her mouth shut.
"Potter, yes? A family on their way to being blood-traitors, if you ask me, baby sister," Bellatrix claimed, not even bothering to look at Hermione as she continued to talk to Andromeda. "Father always said they were raising their son to be weak. Nothing like a proper pure-blood heir should be."
Her body felt disconnect from her mind as she jerked into a standing position, her wand already sliding into her hand, seemingly on its own accord. She barely took in Andromeda's widening eyes or the subtle step backwards she took as her own wand slid out. Bellatrix, however, looked too pleased as she turned to look at Hermione head on, her wand no where to be seen.
"Well, this just got fun," she said with a laugh that sounded much too close to the cackle she would one day become recognized for. Hermione had thought that laugh was born from years in Azkaban breaking her mind, but that was not the case. Only Bellatrix Black would look at a possible duel and laugh, with little movements to defend herself. "Have I offended you, Hermione?"
The way she said her name... the tone she used...
This was a mistake. This was all a horrible, terrible mistake. Her beauty and dress may not be reminiscent of the Death Eater, but that did not mean Hermione didn't look at her and see the woman who pinned her to the floor and tortured her. Did not mean she didn't see Sirius' killer, or Dobby's, or Neville's parents' torturer.
The girl before her was beyond saving, Hermione believed that. McGonagall had sent her on a fool's errand, a mission she was not equipped to handle, nor was it worth the emotional turmoil facing Bellatrix again caused.
"Bella-" Andromeda's firm voice had both girls' attention, though they did not take their eyes off of one another. "If Hermione is related to them, it is only a distant relation. She just transferred from Durmstrang, you prat."
"Is that so?" Bellatrix's head was cocked to the side, her eyes roaming over Hermione's frame, taking her all in. Her sister's insult went ignored as a grin broke over her pale face that had Hermione's heart racing in panic. She had seen that look on a much older face before, and knew it meant nothing good was about to come. "Is it true Durmstrang teaches dark magic?" She gave Hermione no time to confirm or deny before she straightened her body and held her arms out in an undeniable 'give it your best shot' pose. "Give us a demonstration on some spells they've taught you. I won't even move out of the way. It'll be so easy."
Hermione's arm did not waver as she held it level, and Bellatrix's grin only grew, while Andromeda looked even more apprehensive of the situation. She wasn't doing a strong job of being Prefect, for even letting this argument escalate this far broke House rules. It made Hermione wonder if the girl ever crossed her sister, and if she truly would remain uninvolved should any spell come from Hermione's wand.
"You're insane," Hermione finally breathed, her gaze locked in Bellatrix's the entire time. "You're completely insane."
"Says the girl who pulled her wand out for no reason." Bellatrix shrugged, her tone light and unhurried as she let her arms fall down to her side. It did little to help Hermione relax, and still her arm remained firm.
Bellatrix's attack came almost too quickly for Hermione to swipe it away. An orange bolt shot from her wand, the movements of revealing the wand and throwing the soundless hex much faster than Hermione was accustomed to when dueling other students. It was a grave mistake to forget that Bellatrix was a highly skilled witch even during her time at Hogwarts. Her skills are what will one day impress the Dark Lord enough for him to name her his Second, and Hermione, as she dodged a second hex thrown her way, could see why it would be so captivating.
Dueling lessons through classes were nothing like fighting in the real world. That much had become clear very early on for Hermione and the boys as they attempted to hunt down horcruxes on their own. The snatchers and Death Eaters they came across did not pace away, or bow as a sign of respect. No, they shot spell after spell that was meant to main or kill them over and over again.
Bellatrix didn't fight like students in dueling lessons, nor did she fight like the others they had come across. She fought in a way similar to someone dancing, all intentional movements made to look easy and without care as she moved away from Andromeda. Her wand was gripped loosely in her hand, pointed at Hermione once more as it sparked blue. Hermione heard the incantation start and knew if that particular hex hit her, it was going to hurt.
Thankfully, the spell never left the wand, as the tool in question was promptly yanked from Bellatrix's hand by Narcissa, who had a terrifying scowl in place as she glared at her sister. "Assaulting new students is not how you are meant to stay out of detention, Bellatrix." The words were choked out between clenched teeth, her sister's wand tightly gripped in her hand.
Hermione hadn't seen the other girl arrive, or move to interfere in their fight, but based on the unsurprised way Bellatrix raised a single eyebrow at her sister, Hermione guessed the other witch had either seen or heard her move towards them. Narcissa looked between all three of them, and despite being the youngest in the room- just thirteen, Hermione realized with a start- she held the true air of authority here.
"Are all of you mental?" She snapped, tossing Bellatrix's wand carelessly onto the soft couch cushion. The girl made a noise of annoyance at the rough treatment to such a vital part of her, but otherwise refused to show any sort of emotion on her face save that same looking of entitlement. If Hermione were to guess, being scolded by a girl four years younger than her was not an uncommon experience, and something she put little weight to.
Narcissa, knowing that she would get nowhere with her stubborn minded older sister, turned to Hermione.
"You."
"Me?"
"Perhaps if you are going to attack members of your own house, you should return to that brutish Durmstrang school. Hogwarts would certainly be better off with you doing so."
Oh, she was just as vile as her sister. Andromeda was the only one worth saving, and she didn't even need to be changed at all! Bellatrix barked out another high pitched cackle that had Hermione seeing red, and she was fully prepared to send a terrible curse their way, at this point not caring which girl was hit so long as Andromeda reminded unscathed, consequences be damned.
"Leave her alone, Cissy," Andromeda said, seeing the telltale signs of anger on Hermione's face and, after a moment of consideration that resulted in her deeming it fine, walked to stand beside the newest Slytherin member. "Bella antagonized the fight."
"I did nothing except remind her of her place, sister," came Bellatrix's indignant reply.
"That is how you antagonize people," Andromeda said lightly, a small laugh escaping her as she locked arms with Hermione's, whose heart still pumped rapidly at the prospects of a fight. "You sure know how to make friends," she joked as she pulled the older girl away from the common area and towards the exit.
It wasn't until Hermione was away from the tensed atmosphere and into the open hall was she able to breathe freely, and dropped her shoulders as she leaned against the cool stone wall. Andromeda watched her patiently, and the longer she spent being stared at the more embarrassed she became.
She had let her emotions get the best of her, and was truly willing to throw the entire mission into jeopardy for just a chance to hurt the older girl. McGonagall would be so disappointed in her if she knew. Hermione was supposed to be the smart and steady one, not someone who so readily pulled her wand to end petty squabbles, no matter if the other person was as wretched as Bellatrix Black.
"That got intense quickly," Andromeda joked, if only to lighten the otherwise heavy mood.
"I'm- sorry," Hermione mumbled, her cheeks too hot as a blush took over her face. That was not the impression she needed to make on the girl when they hardly knew one another.
Andromeda nodded her acceptance, a soft smile in place as they started walking towards the the stairs that would hopefully take them to the courtyard. In this school, they never could be quite sure. "Don't be. My sister definitely deserved it. And don't take what Narcissa said to heart. She's mean when she's mad."
"Pretty sure she's just mean all the time."
"Nah, that's Bella. But don't worry, she was having fun sparring with you. She wouldn't have seriously hurt you."
"I think the spell she was about to send my way says otherwise, Andromeda." Hermione blinked at the girl next to her. Unfortunately, the fifth year witch didn't have any argument against that, and so they walked the rest of the trip in silence as Hermione reflected on what was surely a grave mistake.
Monday brought a new set of challenges for Hermione that had nothing to do with Bellatrix and the mission. Classes picked up where they left off last Friday, and so Hermione found herself awake early in the morning for breakfast with Andromeda, during which Bellatrix was once again blissfully absent, even if Narcissa was present the whole time, with her ever present glare of annoyance towards Hermione. Her and Andromeda split up soon after, with Hermione headed to Transfiguration while the other girl walked in the opposite direction. It would be the first time Hermione saw this time's McGonagall, and she couldn't lie to herself that for some odd reason, she was nervous.
It was quite literally impossible for McGonagall to know about her purpose, or it should be, but Hermione was convinced Dumbledore knew something, and if any of the other professors hear had an inkling of what was truly going on with her, it would be McGonagall.
She's also a little bit thankful that this McGonagall had no idea how much trouble she's gotten herself into over the years with Ron and Harry. That wouldn't be a good way to start a class she was already a week behind in.
Once she reached the Transfiguration classroom, Hermione claimed a middle seat at a table of three in the center of the room and began pulling out supplies, hoping it was similar to the courses she'd already had with her favorite professor and therefore wouldn't be too far behind. She'd have to dedicate the next couple of days to catching up on the missed work, as well as reading ahead for future assignments. Even if she was here for one goal, she refused to allow her coursework to suffer for anything, Bellatrix and the goal in mind be damned.
A body slid into the empty seat beside Hermione on her left, drawing her from her thoughts, and she took a look out of the corner of her eye, only to drop her quill in shock.
Rodolphus Lestrange was seated beside her.
Hermione had never seen the man in the flesh, despite him attacking her and her friends the night Sirius was murdered. He had that golden mask on the entire time, and the only reason she even knew he was there was a Ministry member informing Dumbledore, who in turn told all of them of the Death Eaters present. She had only seen photos of him during his sentencing to Azkaban, and then later wanted posters following his escape, and the years had not been kind to him. In her time, he had shaggy hair of a similar length to Sirius', stringy and dirty from years of imprisonment, his beard coarse and untamed, and his body had faired no better. During his sentencing, obvious muscles rippled beneath his clothing, visible even in photos of him, but he had withered away from lack of proper nourishment, much like Bellatrix originally looked after her own escape.
It was because of those facts that it took her a moment to process it really was the same person next to her now. His hair was still long, flowing down nearly to his shoulders in thick dark waves surrounding a clean cut face. Much like the Black family, his school robes were of fine make, clearly new and expensive as he shrugged his robe off, leaving him in just his button down and sweater. The beginnings of those same muscles he will have later in life were showing as he got comfortable in the chair, his attention fixed wholly on Hermione.
He was handsome. He was so very handsome.
Why were the crazy bad guys always attractive?
"I heard we have a new house member," Rodolphus began easily, clearly a boy used to being paid attention to and things going his way. "No one told me you were this beautiful." It was a cheesy line, one that would have had Harry laughing and Ron red. Had Hermione not know the kind of man he would grow up to become, the kind of man she could see lurking just below the surface, she might have fallen for it. "I am Rodolphus Lestrange. You're Heather, correct?"
"Hermione," she couldn't help but correct, saying her name slow and pronounced to make sure he didn't mess it up. "Hermione Potter."
Rodolphus gave her a charming smile, showing off straight and white teeth, his strong jaw flexing with movement as he looked behind Hermione and-
"A blood-traitor, Lestrange, I wouldn't waste my time on such filth."
Great, Hermione thought bitterly. So much for being able to focus on the class and not have to think about Bellatrix. A more painful and apparent thought hit her hard and fast.
She'd be sharing this class with Rodolphus and Bellatrix.
To her utter shock and dismay, Bellatrix took the empty seat to Hermione's right, making her sandwiched between two of Voldemort's most loyal and dangerous Death Eaters. She nearly stood up and changed tables, but she refused to look as if she were running from the girl beside her, refused to let Bellatrix think any part of Hermione feared her.
This was the first time Hermione was seeing Bellatrix since their fight yesterday, and a whole new wave of anger washed over her at the sight, as well as the words Bellatrix had just used. The Potters were not a family to be thrown away simply because they refused to follow such bigoted and old fashioned beliefs.
"A bold accusation to make, Bella." Rodolphus said her name so lightly, his tone so familiar as he spoke to her, Hermione was stunned to discover the two of them were seemingly friends. They would become husband and wife later in life, but for some reason she had never pictured them as childhood friends. A decently close pair, more than likely. "The Potters have never outright supported mudbloods or muggles."
Oh, they were going into dangerous territory right now.
The scar on Hermione's arm, glamoured to be invisible, ached at the mention of the slur. It had been one of the first things she did upon her arrival here, and something she continued to make sure was place frequently throughout the day. Not only would it be nearly impossible to explain the mark's origin, it would out her as being a fraud, and with it any chance of this mission being completed successfully went out the window.
"I told you, Black, I have no connection to Theodore and Charolette Potter," Hermione growled, seeking comfort from the feeling of her wand in her robe pocket. Their last interaction had broken out into a duel, would this one as well, right here in a class? Where was McGonagall? "I'm not a blood-traitor, you demented harpy." Well, Hermione never said she was above petty name calling, and by the sounds of Rodolphus' bark of laughter, he was enjoying the interaction.
Such a big part of her wanted to argue that even if she was a supposed blood-traitor, why was that an issue? It should be an honor, not something viewed as disgraceful.
Bellatrix, however, looked livid at having someone so blatantly refuse to back down to her and argue back. "Listen here, blood-traitor," the girl hissed, moving in close and lowering her voice so only the three of them could hear. Hermione's louder than intended insult had gained a few of the surrounding students' attention, and she felt a blush rise on the back of her neck at the added eyes watching them all. "You are nothing but a pathetic excuse for a human, unfitting of her pure blood status and therefore not worth having any magic at all."
Hermione was not one to back down and show her belly, and despite the memories Bellatrix invoked every time Hermione looked at her, she refused to be the girl crying on the floor of Malfoy Manor ever again. She had just opened her mouth to remind Bellatrix that she was the one who began their duel yesterday and wasn't afraid to have a second, uninterrupted round, when none other than McGonagall entered the room and silenced the class.
The professor, much like everyone else, looked younger. Her hair didn't hold as much grey as Hermione was used to, her skin holding a significantly less amount of wrinkles. Her eyes were just as bright and wise as Hermione knew them to be, and she maintained that same powerful aura around herself that let everyone know she was not a witch to be trifled with.
Hermione missed her more than she had previously thought. McGonagall took a moment to introduce herself to the next student, seemingly surprised to see her seated between Rodolphus and Bellatrix, who could not look less bored than right in that moment. However, the moment McGonagall's attention was no longer on Hermione, the other girl turned to give her a grin that promised their argument was a long way from being over.
The rest of the class, and the day for that matter, went by in a relative blur for Hermione. A good portion of the students continued to eye her curiously as she moved about the castle, a fair reaction given that transfer so late in a student's schooling, not to mention after term had begun, were basically unheard of. A couple more Slytherins interacted with her throughout her classes, as did a few Ravenclaws, but other than that she was left alone for the majority of the day.
It gave her time to think things through, and process what she's learned so far, both on an academic level and with Bellatrix and her family. The main thing yesterday and today taught her; Bellatrix was not a good person, even as a teenager. She was mean, and vicious, and seemed to always be looking for a fight, and Hermione hated everything about her. No, Hermione thought, she was not worth saving at all.
"You're coming to the match, aren't you?" Andromeda frowned when she saw Hermione had not moved from her position on one of the couches, her attention still claimed by the thick book in her lap. A plate with a partially eaten strawberry and some grape stems were beside an empty chalice, but aside form that nothing had changed since the last time Andromeda walked by, hours ago. "Your book can't be that exciting."
"I'm studying for transfiguration," Hermione responded distractedly, flipping through the page and not looking up at her friend. The week had gone by quickly, Hermione more involved in her classes than any sort of interaction with Bellatrix. Andromeda and her had started talking more often, and it seemed even such a negative interaction with her sister would not turn the Black daughter off from the new friendship, of which Hermione was grateful.
Hermione tried not to judge her for having two terrible, horrendous, monstrous sisters.
Unfortunately- or fortunately, since she was the goal here- Hermione shared a decent amount of her courses with the worst of the terrible, horrendous, monstrous sisters. It was hard to escape the girl, even if they hadn't outright interacted with one another in class save the Transfigurations on Monday, they did spend a decent amount of time glaring at one another.
Bellatrix had not sat beside her again following that first day, though Rodolphus had joined her table a few times, both of them seemingly not caring about any permanent seat placement. Hermione hadn't decided if she despised Bellatrix or Rodolphus more, even though the wizard had been nothing but pleasant and nearly friendly to her for all their interactions.
Back in the present, Andromeda was still waiting for her response.
"I have no interest in cheering on your wretched sister." In fact, her arm still ached from the nasty jinx Bellatrix had sent her the day before. The two of them had crossed paths in the hallways, completely alone for once, and to the shock of no-one Bellatrix had been unable to stay silent. Hermione was content to walk by as if the girl was not in her line of sight, but it seemed the dark witch had other plans and let a comment slide once again about her family name.
Hermione had taken the abuse from Draco as a first year, and even as a second year, but it had bubbled over during their third when she punched him. Since then, she had refused to be meek and allow someone to disrespect her blood heritage. She had to admit, she did not expect someone to mock her blood when it was supposedly pure, but that did not mean she would stand idly to the side when Bellatrix mocked Harry's family, especially his father. And so Hermione did not hold back on a verbal sparring match as she attacked Bellatrix's skills, her reputation, her attitude, and her hair. All of it was ultimately child's play, and she had made the naive mistake of turning her back on the witch after a moment to walk away.
Only to feel a sharp pain in her arm. The vile lunatic had sent a stinging jinx at her. Hermione had, of course, retaliated.
The two were caught only minutes later by a passing professor, and after being sent to Slughorn their head of house had no choice but to assign detention to them both, as well as a removal of twenty points each. Hermione had been steaming from embarrassment and anger, whereas Bellatrix looked more annoyed than anything else, and simply left the office with little more than a snapped goodbye to their professor.
Their detention was set to begin tonight, following the Quidditch game tonight and dinner.
The two witches haven't seen one another since, and for that Hermione was thankful.
"You aren't cheering on Bella, you're cheering on our house!" Andromeda laughed as she dropped to the couch beside her friend, crossing one leg over the other. Indeed, the girl was quite festive in her Slytherin get up: a green top hat and green and silver markings painted on her pale complexion.
The entire school had been looking forward to the first match of the year, older students eagerly betting with one another on which house would score the more points, and a few had even bet on which players were most likely to get hurt. At one point, Hermione heard a sixth year Ravenclaw make a bet regarding the dark haired witch they were currently talking about, though it seemed to be that she would cause the most injuries, not receive them. It didn't help the competitive atmosphere of the school at all that the two competing teams were none other than Gryffindor and Slytherin. A relatively big part of Hermione wished she could don the red and gold coloring and support her true house.
"Come on, Hermione! I know you and my sister don't see eye to eye," well, that was one way of putting it. "But come watch with me at least! Narcissa is coming too, it'll give you a chance to better get to know her!"
If Bellatrix took up the mentality that Hermione was to be harassed every chance that presented itself, then Narcissa was of a completely opposite viewpoint. Hermione simply did not exist.
She couldn't decide which one infuriated her more.
"That does nothing to sway my choice, Andromeda," came Hermione's dry response, but the book in her lap did close as she set it on the table with a sigh of defeat. "Fine, let me put on my robes."
The pitch was as loud as Hermione remembered it to be during Harry's matches, the crowd amping themselves up as they waited for the teams to come from their respective sides. It was easy to differentiate the two warring houses from the others, as nearly all the students in Gryffindor and Slytherin were outrageously colored in support of their teams, while Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were much subdued in regular school robes, but nonetheless excited to watch what was sure to be a volatile and entertaining match.
Andromeda led Hermione to the second row on the Slytherin side, completely opposite of the side she spent years cheering Harry on at. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind as the two girls sat down, Andromeda between Hermione and Narcissa, who surprisingly enough, had two small lines painted under her eyes in green and silver. It was the only support of her house she showed as she sat stiff backed and bored. Not once did she look at Hermione, though she nodded hello to her sister.
The weather was finally beginning to shift from the warmer August air to a more chilly fall temperature, enough so that Hermione debated the merits of going back to her room to change into a thicker sweater. Winter was still a ways off, but the combination of the late afternoon air and the near constant breeze would begin to weigh on her. She'd miss the first parts of the match if she walked to her dorm and back, but given that she didn't have much interest in watching the team fly around, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
She had just moved to tell Andromeda as much when the first cheers picked up, and Hermione turned to watch the Gryffindor team come flying from their side. It was so much like watching every single one of Harry's matches that she felt tears spring to her eyes, which she was luckily able to wipe away without being noticed. She watched him play for years, and still got a thrill each time she was able to see him fly onto the field for the start of the game. It was made even better when Ron was able to join in, though he lasted a season before he put his jersey away for the last time, and once more kept Hermione company on the side lines.
The Gryffindor uniforms hadn't changed over the last thirty years, Hermione noted as the players flew around waving at their house for a moment. They wore the same light pants and striped shirts, as well as the same red cloaks flying behind them. If Hermione squinted, it could very well be her friends on those brooms and not total strangers.
A moment later, all thoughts of the Gryffindor team fled Hermione's mind as the Slytherin team broke onto the pitch, and her gaze immediately found Bellatrix's small form on the left side.
The player was dressed in the typical Quidditch outfit- tight tan pants, dark boots and knee pads, along with the green and silver jersey and green robe, tightly tied across her chest. It was her hair that Hermione couldn't stop looking at, the usually chaotic and untamable dark mane forced into a relatively contained thick braid down her back. A few pieces had already escape their hold and twisted back up into the usual curls that surrounded her head, but as always she seemed indifferent to them.
Both teams finally stopped flying around the pitch for their introductions and came to settle in their rightful roles, Bellatrix and the other chasers flying high in the air as they waited for the balls to be released and tossed up. She was in the center, her attention entirely on the person who unlocked the box on the ground in the center of the pitch. The announcer stated the game was in play the moment the bludgers were freed and jerked into the air. The girl paid them no mind as both of the teams' two Beaters went after the small balls.
Bellatrix was good. Even without the game being started Hermione could tell. Harry would be as loathed to hear it as Hermione was to admit it, but the girl's skills on the pitch were undeniable. She commanded the utmost control of her movements upon her visibly expensive broom. Hermione couldn't be sure what the current hottest Quidditch broom on the market was on this time- something Ron and Ginny would absolutely know- but she was sure her family had gotten her the nicest and swiftest one money could buy.
It wasn't until the Quaffle was thrown up did Bellatrix move, her flying tight and precise as she dropped quickly towards the ground to be the one to catch the ball. Her skills rivaled that of Harry's, maybe even Krum's, and Hermione couldn't tear her eyes away as Bellatrix was indeed the one person to catch the ball, her technique impressive enough that Hermione started to question why Steve was captain instead of her.
Ten minutes into the match, however, Hermione had her answer in the form of watching Bellatrix slam the front of her broom none too gently into the Gryffindor holding the Quaffle.
The boy fell to the ground in a heap of broken broom while Bellatrix flew the ball that was now in her hands towards one of the rings, not caring at all that the boy had slammed into the ground. A professor ran to check on him as he limped off the pitch, but the game remained in motion and Bellatrix chucked the Quaffle as fast as she could into one of the rings and-
"10 points for Slytherin!" One of the announcers yelled into the microphone, causing a cheer to rise from the Slytherin section, Hermione's loud voice joining in as well. She was so caught up in the magic of Quidditch she couldn't help but support her house, even if it wasn't the one she should have been in. When Gryffindor scored 20 points following two successful Quaffle goals, Hermione didn't stop herself from booing.
Steve was a decent Keeper, and it seemed that letting those two balls fly by infuriated him enough that he refused to allow one more to slip through. Gryffindor tried their hardest, but none of the Chasers were able to break through for the next few minutes of play, especially with Slytherin's unrelenting attack of bludgers consistently coming their way. A Gryffindor player threw one of the bludgers at the closest Chaser to him, which just so happened to be Bellatrix. Hermione was convinced the girl would take a brutal hit similar to the one she had given earlier, as surely no one could move their broom that fast in such short notice, but just as she thought the rough attack would come, Bellatrix moved.
It seemed the other player knew Bellatrix better, as the Beaters anticipated the move and had another bludger headed into the exact spot Bellatrix had just twisted into, this one definitely unavoidable. And the extreme hit did come, slamming right into the girl's torso and knocking her sideways. It had to be painful, as even from Hermione's position she could hear the pained grunt Bellatrix let out as she fought to stay on her broom, one hand gripped to her ribs as she grimaced.
Steve screamed something at the players, his face red with fury but unable to leave the posts as right in that moment, the other team's Chasers came to try a second wave of attack.
The Beaters lost interest in Bellatrix, thoroughly pleased to have gotten revenge for their fallen teammate from early, and dropped to fly lower to the ground, chasing another Slytherin member.
Even Hermione yelled her disgust at the rough play, something she knew Harry and Ginny never would have permitted on their team, her entire body tensed as she watched Bellatrix attempt to right herself. She was clearly injured and in pain, and one of the Slytherin Beaters flew up to check in and received an enraged swat in return. Andromeda screamed an insult at the player who hurt her sister, the words much to filthy to be spoken so loudly close to professors, but her words were drowned out by the rest of the viewers. Even Narcissa, usually so stoic, had a hand over her mouth and was half out of her seat before Bellatrix started flying once more, one hand firmly on her side and the other on her broom.
"She shouldn't stay in," Hermione mumbled, her words barely picked up over the roar of the crowd, though the two Black sisters heard her well enough.
It was Narcissa who answered, her voice uncharacteristically level instead of the dry tone she spoke to Hermione with. "She isn't leaving the match until the game ends or she's pulled from it, the bloody idiot." Something about hearing the girl call her sister a 'bloody idiot' pulled a small smile from Hermione and she let out a laugh.
A scream from the pitch had both of their attentions back on the game, and they had obviously missed a vital move on Slytherin's part because not only did Bellatrix have the ball once more, but one of the two guys who hurt her was cradling his arm close to his chest, his face pulled into a tight grimace as he broom began lowering to the ground so he could get treated. If Hermione had to guess, she'd say Bellatrix managed to break his arm in retaliation.
Even when the girl scored another girl for their team Hermione didn't bother to question why she had not be chosen for captain.
The game continued for another hour, both teams scoring points every now and then, but it wasn't until Slytherin's Seeker finally caught the Snitch did the game come to an end, everyone dressed in green rushing the field to celebrate with their team. Hermione found herself dragged along with Andromeda and Narcissa, both girls desperate to check the state of their sister, and came upon her leaning against one of the walls, her hand still pressed against her ribs as she hissed in pain.
"Bella!" Andromeda called, rushing to a stop before the older girl and reached a tentative hand towards her toros. Bellatrix hit the offending limb away, scowling at her sister in response and snapping to leave her alone. Oh, she was not in a good mood at all. Perhaps Hermione shouldn't be here, given all of their previous interactions had either ended in violence or come very close to it. Her arm still carried a bit of the sting from earlier.
"You need to get to the hospital wing, Bella," Narcissa said as she too came to a stop beside Bellatrix, her arms crossed and her mouth set in a firm line. "Your ribs are probably broken. You shouldn't have even finished the game."
Once again, Hermione was reminded of the fact that Narcissa was only thirteen, and tried to think of herself at that age. The blonde witch seemed so much older and well rounded than either of her elder sisters, a sort of weariness surrounded her that she couldn't seem to shake, almost as if she had lived fifty years instead of little over a dozen. Had it been Ron and Harry at thirteen, Harry would not have stopped the match either, and Ron would have cheered him on for every second of it. Hermione would have been the one to tell him to go get checked out, and he would have grumbled the entire time about doing so.
"I'm fine, Cis- what's the blood-traitor doing here?"
Hermione had been hanging a bit away from the three girls, letting Narcissa and Andromeda fuss over their sister. Let them take the brunt of her anger before she noticed Hermione's presence. It didn't work as well as she had hoped, given that Bellatrix now had that hate filled gaze turned towards her as she pushed herself off of the walk and began a slow walk closer. Each step had to have caused a jolt, as she kept that pain filled expression barely hidden under a look of loathing the closer she got to Hermione. Andromeda and Narcissa were quick to follow, though Hermione wasn't sure if they were going to watch the inevitable argument or intervene.
"It's an embarrassment to the Slytherin house to have you cheer for us."
"Slytherin is my house as well, I can do what I want."
"This noble house, like all other noble houses should belong to only true pure-bloods. You and your family are a disgrace to us all, no better than muggle trash or mudbloods."
"Bella-" Andromeda said warily, coming to stand beside her sister with a hand placed on her upper arm. "You're in pain and it's making you unnecessarily angry. Let's go get a potion from the hospital wing to make you feel better."
Bellatrix whirled on her sister, that ridiculously thick braid flying in the air as she did so. Hermione barely was able to pick up the hiss of pain the fast movement caused the girl before she began yelling at her sister. For none of the other Slytherin players or house members to look longer than a moment at the scene led Hermione to believe it happened often enough.
And Andromeda, to Hermione's eternal delight and shock, did not accept the verbal assault quietly. In that moment, Hermione learned two things about her new friend when she got mad:
1. She is not afraid to get physical.
And, much more importantly, 2. She is not afraid to fight dirty.
Quicker than any of the girls could prepare for, Andromeda jerked both of her arms forward and into her sister's stomach, the majority of her weight towards Bellatrix's wounded side. The girl, visibly wounded and not ready for such an attack, collapsed onto the ground. Hermione let out a gasp at the wet noise she made when she sucked in a shallow breath, the attack taking much more out of her than it would have if she hadn't previously been injured. Not that it made much of a difference in the end, as Bellatrix jumped up quicker than Hermione thought possible and moved to retaliate on her sister.
Narcissa, who Hermione was quickly learning played mediator often, jerked Bellatrix back by the end of her Quidditch robe, and did not flinch at the look the girl sent her for the action, one that promised violence if she wasn't released right that moment.
"You can't breathe," Narcissa snapped, before turning her attention to their middle sister. "Leave with Potter. Now."
Hermione, who had been standing on the side lines, unable to move or blink, finally jerked into action at the use of her- fake- last name, and watched as Andromeda did not bother to argue with either girl. She just gave Bellatrix a mocking laugh as she walked towards Hermione and wrapped her hand around the brunette's forearm. As she was being pulled away, Hermione heard Bellatrix tear into Narcissa for getting in the way of her fight with Andromeda, before relenting to see the nursing staff.