Chapter 28: Ancient and Most NobleChapter Text
"Well, little one? Speak."
Hermione huffs at Leagore, nervousness vanished.
"Why are you calling me that? I'm an adult, you know, same as her." She nods at Bellatrix. "And what were you saying about me? About the forest? And what did Autonoe mean about tasting me?"
"Autonoe! You touched the witch? Where are you? Show yourself. I know you are here!" the central merperson shouts, transforming once more into a more feminine, queenly appearance and glaring at the water. A head emerges.
Oh. That's Autonoe? They don't seem nearly as threatening now. Young and obviously ashamed at being scolded, with soft features and lowering their gaze as they run their hands over the water.
"Thetis, I…I've never seen…I was just curious, I'm sorry— but, do you see? Can you feel her? The both of them. They are strange! And did you feel the thread? Maybe she is a prophet! A seer! A descendant of the Moirai themselves!"
Hermione sighs. "Neither of us are seers! I accidentally travelled backwards in time. She knows what will happen because she read my mind. Saw my memories. That's why we're here! I need to return forwards to my time before we create a paradox!"
Bellatrix grabs her arm. "Reveal everything, why don't you?" she hisses. "I thought you'd learnt—"
"They're our chance! If we don't tell them, we'll never know. They want information about you. Let's trade! Make a deal!"
"A deal?" a voice echoes out. And then there's a splash as someone dives into the water from high above, launching back out to sit next to Hermione on the platform.
An androgynous, haughty looking merperson with a crimson red tail and calculating eyes. Who runs their gaze over her. Then over Bellatrix. And then turns their hair longer, curled, still green but darker, with a sly grin. Skin paler. Their body more feminine. And…
Very similar to Bellatrix.
The merperson bites their lip, lounging backwards on one hand and twirling their hair with the other. "I can give you what you want. You want to know about the forest? About your power? Let me touch you. I'll reveal all to you, my sweet—ah!"
They fly back into the water with a shrieking splash as Bellatrix jams her wand forwards and a blast of magic propels them across the cave.
"Bellatrix, you can't—"
"I can. They knew exactly what they were doing, and—"
"And we're in the middle of some kind of trial!" Hermione yells in exasperation.
"No no, she's right," a voice says calmly.
Thetis.
Hermione turns to meet their gaze.
Thetis smiles, and then frowns as the mermaid's head appears once more from the water. "Eudora has no right interfering with a mated couple. Especially in the middle of proceedings. Especially when a thread has been felt. You go against the law, and against the fates, Eudora. Take your place and hold your tongue."
Eudora clicks their tongue in obvious annoyance before sinking down, and then jetting from the water to sit on a high ledge once more.
Pronoe clears their throat. "Shall we continue? If this witch is to understand our intrigue, perhaps we should veriform for her?"
Low murmurs.
"…uncomfortable…it's wrong…the pressure…never before…why should…"
"Alright!" Thetis announces. "We should cede to Pronoe's advice. They have never before guided us unfairly. Shall we?"
Tails flick in response, and then, one by one, the merpeople begin to transform.
Some only slightly, others becoming completely different people as waists narrow or widen, noses shrink and grow, skin changes hue. The green hair remains a constant, as well as the yellow eyes, and tails. But in physical appearance…
Hermione gasps and reaches for Bellatrix's hand. This is incredible.
They all look like Bellatrix. Like Andy. Like Tonks. Even like Draco and Sirius, although female.
"Cissy…she…"
Bellatrix gazes at Thetis. And it's true. It could be Narcissa…with yellow eyes. And after an unfortunate potions accident that turned her hair dark green and curly. How is this—
Bellatrix takes a step forward, pulling her hand from Hermione's. "When…when my sister was younger, she— she had hair like mine. Dark. The same as my— my other sister, Andromeda."
Hermione's mouth falls open. She's talking about Andy? And— Narcissa wasn't blonde? That's just baffling!
"She used to always copy me, Narcissa. My youngest sister. Followed everything I did. I hated it and— and one day I screamed at her. She was only two years old but— I hated that she was going to grow up like me. I shook her. Told her to never be like me. That she shouldn't try to be me. She— her hair changed. And her eyes. Her hair became straight and fair, her eyes pale and blue. The opposite of me as she cried and cried."
She clenches her fists and looks to the floor. "Nobody knew what happened. They pun— punished me for it. Said I'd used magic to—" she whispers croakily.
And then she clears her throat, head coming up to meet Thetis' gaze determinedly. "But it wasn't me. It wasn't."
Thetis smiles warmly, and it looks terribly bizarre on Narcissa's face. "It was not you then. She chose a form that would please you. She looked up to you, and so listened to your advice. It was not fear, but love, that caused her to change. You did not harm her. It is not painful, I assure you. And it was not your fault. All of us have altered our form in some way over time, for ourselves or others. It is a part of us. And it is a part of you, Bellatrix Black."
Bellatrix shakes her head, wand raised and voice harsh. "I'm not one of you. I'm not. This is— I've never changed, never. And you are merpeople. You have tails. I am nothing like you."
Oreithye transforms back with a roar, pupils wide and dark. "You see how she looks down on us! We reveal ourselves to her and she treats us like animals! Beasts! When it is her fault that we are like this. Tell her. Tell her what she did to us."
There are nods and shouts of agreement as transformations take place, all but Thetis and Pronoe changing back.
Pronoe. Hermione can't help but study the mermaid. Now if Leagore was Sirius and Draco before, then this mermaid is literally Draco in female form. It's astonishing.
She can't help but nudge Bellatrix as the shouting continues. "Have you seen Draco over there? You must believe them now, Bellatrix. Look at hi—her— them. Even the body language! Pronoe is Draco. And to think they reminded me of McGonagall."
Bellatrix turns to gape at her. "How obsessed are you with McGonagall to confuse— you know what, I don't want to know. And…yes. Yes, I see it. Of course I see it, I'm not blind. But they are mermaids."
"I believe we are settled then," Thetis calls out, and both Hermione and Bellatrix look up. "Oreithye is right. It is time to tell the story of our lost sister. Kalypso."
The merpeople all fall silent, some obviously more comfortable with this idea than others, but unwilling to voice their thoughts against Thetis.
Hermione sits down on the stone platform in excited readiness. She has a feeling they may be the first witches, the first of all wizardkind, to hear this story. This truth.
Bellatrix stands above her, twirling her wand and shifting her weight. Too much energy. There isn't anything for her to take it out on around here.
Hermione pats the floor. "Come on, Bellatrix. Let's hear what they have to say. This is incredible."
She looks around at the merpeople. "This is an honour. Thank you for sharing your history with us. Your truth. We'll listen, and we won't tell anyone, we promise, don't we Bellatrix?"
Bellatrix sits down, grumbling to herself. "Oh I'm not telling anyone this, people already think I'm crazy as it is."
Well. Fair enough.
Thetis clears their throat. "Agaue, perhaps you may do the honours. You are well-versed in the art of storytelling."
A young looking merperson's head jolts up from next to Kalianassa, and they twist their hair shyly before flicking their emerald tail.
"Of course, Thetis."
Their eyes dart from side to side, unfocused.
"Many centuries ago…"
Many centuries ago, and far, far from this land, fifty sisters lived in peace and harmony in the waters of what mankind now calls the Black Sea. I mention man, for these sisters were not. They were nymphs. Goddesses of the ocean, born of Nereus, the old man of the sea.
For millennia, centuries, they lived and played in the waters. Time stretched on, and there was nothing but fish and the occasional god to amuse them.
And then came man.
Quietly, at first. Cautiously. And then bolder. Their ships came in droves, their wooden ports littering the shores. The centuries passed, and rather than praying to the sisters, worshiping them for their beauty, for calming the waters, for bringing forth their bounty…they turned their noses up at them. Decried their godliness. Tried to capture them, enslave them.
Even the eldest sister, their leader, Queen Thetis herself, was forced into marriage with the mortal, Peleus. Plagued by the gift of prophecy, her fate had been decided, and though she struggled against him, metamorphosing into a thousand forms, not one could stop him. Could stop them.
Soon, not one mortal left them an offering. No one prayed to them. The number of ships grew…and the sisters, now old, told their descendants to leave. To find a new home, free of mankind.
But to never forget. To always remember that they are of the Black Sea. The Noble and Most Ancient Colony of Black. Descended from the gods. To always remember that, before making any decision, they must comply with the needs of the whole race. Totus Generis Parere.
These offspring, these children, travelled far. So used to the water, they decided to transform their legs into tails, fins, so that they could travel across seas and oceans without tiring. They told the story of the Black Sea, and named each new generation after their mothers, their grandmothers. For generation after generation, they swam.
And whilst all remembered, not all kept their promise. Not all wished to stay together, to agree every rule. So, over the years, different nymphs parted. Chose different currents. Different routes. Some even walked onto the land as a tribe, or fled alone to join mankind.
Our story begins, when one nymph did this very thing. Left her brethren, to join wizardkind. This was still many centuries ago, and over time the story has muddied. Muddled. Did they leave of their own free will, or were they forced? Were they kidnapped? Tempted? Did they fall in love?
To this day, we do not know. All we know, is that our ancestors, having swam so far north that the water turned to ice, turned back, and made their way to land. Used to the heat of the Mediterranean, they wandered in the cold, desperate for a way home, but having lost their path. Until magic called to them.
From their very beings, their ancient souls, they felt the pull of the newly founded Hogwarts. A place of magic. Of protection. Of mortals who, like them, bent the world to their needs, their wishes.
They found this lake, and named it after their homeland.
Of course, they were wary. They knew the truth of man. Their greed. Their violence. They decided, that for the good of the whole race, they would hide their godliness. Remain separate from the wizards sharing their home. They remembered the plight of their ancestors. Until these wand carriers could be trusted, they would hide their true forms.
Used to the ocean, they transformed their legs into fins so they might play in the water. Their hair to camouflage with the reeds. Their eyes to see in the depths. Goddesses no more.
And so wizardkind accepted their presence, and the lake became known to all as the Black Lake, although no wizard knew why. Wizardkind would never know the truth of the nymphs that had chosen this land as their new home, that in those early days they were beautiful. That they were able to come ashore.
Over time, a tentative trust was built between the two races. There were even murmurings of an alliance. Of revealing their true forms. Sharing their gifts. Debate after debate was held within the Agora, deep in the depths of the lake, away from prying eyes, lasting long into the night. Could these wizards be trusted? Was it finally time to walk the land once more in the brilliant light of the day?
Well, sadly, in the end, it was all for naught.
For one fateful day, before a decision had been reached…one sister…left.
Kalypso. The sole heir of the Goddess of Concealment herself, was never to be seen again.
And the others, without her gift, were no longer able to transform back.
They could adapt their appearance, their gender, their sex, but never the tail. Never the hair, or the eyes. For it was Kalypso who had invented this trick, and only she would be able to undo it.
The years passed, and the people of the Black Lake despaired. They cried for their sister. For their legs. For their beautiful eyes and hair. The wizards called them Sea people. Merpeople. And that is what they became.
Agaue's eyes focus, and they look around with a knowing smile, before piercing Bellatrix with their gaze.
"But they always remembered, always hoped, that one day, one future day, they would once again be able to greet the lost Kalypso, and say—"
Hermione startles, gripping Bellatrix's arm as the merpeople, in unison, call out, "Blood of my blood. I greet you as kin. May our fore-bearers guide us, our descendants provide for us, and our hearts beat as one."
Hermione's hand comes up to her mouth in shock and awe. Their voices echo throughout the cave, and a tense silence settles.
Bellatrix pats Hermione's hand and then pulls away, gets to her feet, and clears her throat.
"Blood of my blood. I return your greeting. May the current flow strongly through our veins. As one we are whole. As one we are strong. As one we are gods on Earth."
Silence falls once more, each person frozen in place, holding their breath.
And then shrieking fills the air, some merpeople diving into the water, the splash of water against rock mixing with the ear-piercing screeches as Hermione covers her ears desperately against the din.
Ah! Would they stop that? Merlin the noise! She turns to Bellatrix through the watery chaos to check she's still there, and watches as instead of covering her own ears, Bellatrix flinches and moves one hand to clutch her arm. She turns wide-eyed to Hermione and pulls her close.
"It's the mark!" she yells into Hermione's ear. "I have to go. We have to go!"
Oh no no no! "You can't leave now! They'll think we tricked them! You'll be like Kalypso!"
"What?"
Oh for the—
If you leave they'll think you're like Kalypso, leaving them, tricking them. We have to explain.
There's no time. Do you think He is patient? And we can't change the timeline!
Okay. Okay, she's right.
Hermione casts a sonorous on herself. "Excuse me everyone!" she booms out.
The splashing slowly stops, and everyone turns to look, some heads popping out of the water.
Hermione swallows. "I may not be a goddess…or a seer…or even family, but I do know the future. And I'm sorry, but if events are to stay the same, and for the world to not blink from existence, Bellatrix needs to leave you for the night. There is something she must do, it is written in fate. You must believe us, we don't want to leave but— but as a time traveller and as her mate, I must insist that we leave you now. No arguing, sorry."
Oreithye looks like they might definitely argue, and Thetis opens their mouth with a frown, but Hermione just takes Bellatrix's arm, popping them away.
Chapter 29: Approaching With CautionChapter Text
They appear in Bellatrix's bedroom. She's not sure why. It must be where Bellatrix most needed to be.
And just stare at each other in silence.
She can't stop staring at Bellatrix.
This is just—
She's part mermaid? Part goddess? What the—
A hysterical laugh bursts out of her and she quickly covers her mouth. "Oh Bellatrix, I'm sorry it's just, you're a— a mermaid! A bloody goddess! A nymph— did Andy know? She named her daughter Nymphadora."
Bellatrix breathes out a shaky laugh and runs her hands over her face and into her hair. And then laughs some more.
Hermione joins in, she can't seem to stop laughing. This is insane!
Bellatrix groans, lowering her forehead against the chest of drawers. "What the fuck? What the bloody— if Andy did know, she could have bloody well told us. What the— I'm a nymph? What is this? What is happening?"
She stomps over to Hermione. "This is— what have you done, Hermione? Why has everything turned upside down since you showed up? You— and help me out of this blasted muggle outfit. I can't reach—"
She reaches around uselessly for the zip and Hermione undoes it for her with a chuckle. "I told you. The fates have it out for us. Maybe your ancestors pissed them off. Who knows, maybe you're related to them too!"
Bellatrix struggles out of the wetsuit and starts accioing things from her wardrobe.
Hermione's eyes wander over bare skin before she tears her eyes away ashamedly. Don't be creepy, Hermione.
But…why were you looking?
Is she…
Kisses flash through her mind. Lips pressing warmly against her own. Against her cheek. Her hand. The feel of…hot breath in the shell of her ear. Against her shoulder. Hands gripping her tightly. Her hand or her waist or her… And— and the feel of a cheek beneath her own lips.
Oh. It's possible Hermione might have developed some kind of attraction to the witch. Actually, highly likely if she really thinks about it. The only logical conclusion to…
Shit.
Well don't think about that now. Not whilst you're in her bedroom and she's naked. That's definitely not a good idea.
Bellatrix is oddly quiet.
"Are you okay? This is a lot. You aren't…Crookshanks, are you?"
Bellatrix pulls her dress on properly, to Hermione's relief, and then her corset, waving her wand to tie it at the back. She frowns at Hermione confusedly, before nodding her head in realisation.
"No, I'm fine. Well I'm not, this is bloody…but I'm sure I can go blow some stuff up. Let myself go a bit. Maybe I'll tell all the other Death Eaters I'm a goddess," she grins.
Wha—
Bellatrix cackles. "I'm kidding! I'll just do as I'm told and annoy Snape a bit. Not sure how long I'll be. Normally, I would…but it won't take as long this time. I don't have to plan anything, I already know what will happen, I just have to seem— Anyway. Wait here for me, alright?"
She says it casually, but…
Hermione smiles softly. "I'll be here. Guess I'll have a look through your clothes for something to wear, or pop to Shell Cottage just to get some things and come back. And I might go get the stuff we left at the boathouse, but that's it. I'll get some sleep. All that swimming was— are you tired too? I'm exhausted."
Bellatrix just shrugs and finishes tying her shoes. "Nope, I need to get rid of some energy. Hopefully there'll be some running around involved and not just sitting at a table making plans.
Hermione chuckles. Of course she's not tired. She's like a puppy, boundless energy.
Not that— she doesn't think she's cute or anything, she's still—
She can be quite adorable sometimes though. It shouldn't make sense. How can a person be adorable and at the same time make her want to—
She washes the invisibility over her mind as Bellatrix turns to look at her from her position in front of the mirror, drying her hair with her wand.
Bellatrix frowns. "Why are you hiding from me? I didn't freak you out talking about my meeting, did I? I have to go, you know that."
Hermione doesn't know what to— she doesn't want to lie to the witch, especially as she's been so open today. Put her trust in Hermione.
Hermione takes a steadying breath. "I…I'm just hiding my thoughts because they're embarrassing. Like…remember when we first ate in the kitchen with the elves? You said you didn't want to know my thoughts."
Bellatrix continues frowning and her eyes dart back and forth as—
And then widen in realisation.
The frown falls away as her eyebrows shoot up.
Hermione looks at the floor and shifts her weight uncomfortably.
"You're thinking about— Really? I was just teasing you, embarrassing you. You're always so— I fucking knew it. So you've been putting on this confused act the whole time? 'I don't like witches'. So stubborn even your thought were…you had even me thinking I'd misinterpreted it."
Oh. Hermione licks her lips, still too scared to look up. She doesn't even know what she's been feeling, let alone what she wants to happen. "It wasn't an act. I didn't know I— I don't think. But I…you kissed me."
No reply.
Hermione slowly looks up, heart pounding. Bellatrix's face is scrunched in confusion. She sighs. "I did, didn't I? I keep kissing you. At some point I need to figure out why, but I don't think I have time right now."
What?! Well now who's putting on a confused act? Surely out of the two of them she's the one who— she needs time to figure it out?
Hermione scoffs in disbelief. "Well, once you do, maybe you could let me know, because it's very confusing. Should I pencil you in for this evening, maybe? Or would tomorrow morning be better?"
Bellatrix barks out a laugh. "I think it's a bit optimistic to plan anything in our lives right now, pet. But next time I get the strange urge to kiss you, I'll let you know so you can stop me, alright?"
Next time?
"If I want to stop you, you mean?" she murmurs, not sure if she's brave enough for the words that are coming out of her mouth.
Bellatrix doesn't say anything. Just pulls on a black outer robe and disapparates with a crack.
Hermione does manage to get some sleep, but not much. Her body may be exhausted, but her brain just won't stop whirring. In the end she gives up, popping first to the Hogwarts boathouse to tidy up after themselves, and then to Shell Cottage to collect her things. Finally. Her actual clothes. Comfy jumpers. Tops and jeans instead of sheets and dresses that are liable to exposing different body parts as soon as she's not paying attention.
She's not sure what to do with her belongings. It feels way too presumptuous to leave anything in Bellatrix's room, so she leaves everything in the bedroom she slept in her first night at Black Estate, and then pads down to the library in her socks with one of her bags. She's going to recreate her expansion charm. She misses her bag. And then start on that scarf for Dobby. It's been weeks and she still hasn't gotten around to it.
She sits by the fire as she works, listening to it crackle and pop and relaxing in the warm glow as she mutters out different charms and transfigurations.
"Miss Hermione?"
Hmm? "Oh, hello Tiggy. How are you?"
Tiggy doesn't answer, just stares.
And then sits down on the floor, rubbing at their chin uncomfortably. "Mistress be asking for you."
Oh. "Oh, is Bellatrix here? I thought she'd be gone much longer than—"
"Not Mistress Bella. No, is— is Mistress Leagore that be asking for you."
Leagore? As in—
"So you serve them too! Of course! That's why you couldn't tell me about them. The house-elves must have felt the family connection since…"
Tiggy nods. "We is always knowing, the Black elves. But we is forbidden from saying. To either side. We is knowing of the Black Colony, is answering the Call to Mastress Thetis, but wizard law is forbidding telling. Is the third decree of the House of Black, that no elf speak of— that no elf speak about—"
Tiggy sighs. "Still it is holding. Neither side be knowing. Is the rule."
Oh. Well. Hermione fiddles with her bag. "So…you said Mistress Leagore? I thought, Master, surely…"
Tiggy folds their arms with a frown. "Today she is being Mistress, and that is what she being. You is learning to be a seeing elf or not?"
Oh dear. "No no I don't mean, of course I understand that gender is fluid, a construct. I'm not— I'm very respectful of pronouns I would never— I didn't mean to offend anyone. I just wasn't sure because I…well I suppose I assumed that as Leagore looked so much like Sirius and Draco that…sorry. Mistress Leagore. Got it."
Tiggy nods. "Today she is her. You is going?"
Should she? What about Bellatrix? Do not drift asunder.
Oh, but she really wants to know more! And Leagore had seemed nice enough…
"Alright, yes. If Bellatrix comes back, could you tell her where I am? To call me…with the thread."
Tiggy chuckles. "You is needing to learn to call her on the thread. You is able to be speaking, you know this? Maybe Mistress Leagore be explaining. She is a friend of us Forest People."
Forest— oh!
"House-elves are Forest People?!"
Tiggy sighs. "Stop being a thinking elf and go, if you is going."
Oh, right.
Hermione needs to go to the cave, for her mission, her duties. She feels the pull, and pops away.
Steadying her feet on wet stone in the torchlight.
"Umm…Leagore? Are you there? Tiggy said you wanted to talk to me."
A head peeks up through the water. That's not…well it could be, she supposes.
"Leagore?"
The merperson laughs softly. "No, this is Leagore." They transform their features, sharpening their nose and jaw, narrowing their head shape until Leagore frowns back. "Much more serious," the merperson growls, and then changes back with a laugh.
More Sirius? How ironic.
Hermione walks closer to the water and searches their face. Young, playful, mischievous. Hair carefully tied back.
"Autonoe?"
The merperson grins and claps. "You remember me?"
Hermione snorts. "Well it was rather memorable. Why are you here, where's Leagore?"
Autonoe brings up their tail, hiding their face behind the fin at the end shyly.
"I'm the one who called you. I— I didn't want to lie to you but— I thought you might hate me, for the knife. I wouldn't have hurt you! I was just— can I see? The wand?"
Hermione folds her arms. "Why?"
Autonoe comes forwards and rests their arms and head on the side. "I want to see what it does. Can you make light? Like Kalypso?"
Kalypso? Oh. "Her name's Bellatrix. And yes, it's simple really." She holds out her wand. "You just say, lumos!"
Light shines from the tip, and Autonoe lets out a shriek of glee. Ow!
Hermione grimaces, but then smiles. She remembers the joy of seeing magic for the first time.
She sits down on the edge and dangles her legs in the water. Her jeans will get drenched, but she can dry them later. Magic.
"Do you have magic? Nymphs, I mean. Other than metamorphing."
Autonoe dips under the water, and then flies out with a splash, coming to sit next to Hermione and sending water spraying everywhere. Ah! "Careful! Ugh I'm soaked!"
"Soaked? You don't like the water?"
Hermione wipes some water from her eyes. "We like to stay dry on land when possible. It's cold and gets our clothes all…do you have clothes too? I know so little about any of this."
Autonoe reaches out and touches her jumper tentatively.
"We don't have this, but I know what clothes are. I know quite a lot about wizards. Sometimes…I watch the schoolchildren. Listen to them, if they come close enough. Thetis doesn't like it," they look around, and then duck their head to whisper closely. "But Thetis is terribly boring sometimes. They don't even watch the flying game."
Flying— Hermione chuckles. "You watch Quidditch?"
Autonoe nods, gaze fixed back on Hermione's clothes, running their fingers lightly over the wool. "The red people are easiest to see, so I like it when they play. A beautiful red."
They sigh dramatically and rest back on their hands, eyes drifting over the cave ceiling as though watching an imaginary Quidditch match. "We have hardly any red down here, except in the murals and mosaics."
Wha—
"You have artwork? I'd love to see it. And Oreithye mentioned a statue…of Kalypso I think."
Autonoe looks back to her with a gasp, taking her hands. "Oh you must see it! But first—"
They pull Hermione's wand from her grasp and falls backwards into the water.
"No!"
Hermione dives in after them, instinctively forming a bubblehead charm.
"Autonoe! Give it back! Accio wand!"
A chiming laugh sails back to her through the darkness. Once again she has no light. Why does her life constantly put her in the dark—oh!
But she can find people in the dark.
She closes her eyes, and tries to find Autonoe with her mind. There's no thread, but she needs to find them to get her wand. That's her mission, her duty.
Hmm, nothing. Well, Autonoe isn't exactly calling her. Maybe it doesn't work that way.
"Witch girl! Halt!"
Oh no.
She opens her eyes. To darkness.
"You dare return after your mate abandons her kin! You take our secrets and flee like the wicked witch you are!" a voice growls.
Hermione holds back a laugh. Gosh, in all her time in the wizarding world, no one has called her a wicked witch before. It's rather empowering.
"Is that you, Oreithye? I can't see. We didn't mean to leave so suddenly, but events had to stay on course. Surely you understand the fates, don't you? The…Moirai? Is that what they were called? Every being has to bow to the wisdom of the Moirai."
Silence greets her. Well. That's better than shouting.
Thank goodness she'd listened to the tour guide on her trip to Athens with her parents. The painting of the fates and the story behind it was so fascinating, who knew it would ever be more than just a fun fact?
"Why are you here then? Why return alone?" Oreithye asks, their voice closer now.
Oh. She doesn't want to get Autonoe in trouble.
She sighs. "I've lost my wand, have you seen it? I came to talk to Leagore about the Forest People, but now I'm just blind. I really need my wand back. Could you…help me find it? Guide me?"
More stony silence. She almost prefers the insults.
And then hands take hers.
Huh.
"Foolish witch. Don't come where you can't see. Finding a dropped piece of wood is hard enough with my eyes, let alone yours."
Hermione feels herself being pulled along through the water, arms outstretched. It reminds her of learning to swim as a child, her feet start kicking automatically.
"Actually…if I tell you who took my wand, will you promise not to be too angry with them?"
She smacks into a hard chest as Oreithye comes to an abrupt halt.
"Someone took it? Who would…Autonoe. It was them, wasn't it? And you let them? I thought you witches were attached to your wands? That child!"
Child?
"They're a child? How old are they…if you don't mind me asking?"
Oreithye scoffs. "Far older than you, witch girl. But that makes them no less a child, and they will continue to be a child until they learn to listen to their elders! Now where would they have gone?"
Umm. "They told me about the murals. The mosaics. They said I should see them. I would like to, actually, if I'm allowed. And if I can see…"
She's pulled through the water once more.
"I suppose you may see, as the mate of Kalypso. We hold the only true records of the ancient world. Perhaps you will lose your speech as well as your sight at seeing something so far out of the grasp of mere wizards."
Oh here we go, noble and most ancient bla bla bla.
"I'm sure it's wonderful. I would love to learn more about your civilisation. Your history. "
A grumbling hum. "Well I don't know if it's permitted, you'll have to speak with Thetis first. And Leagore seems determined to find out more about you. Perhaps if you go to the— Autonoe! Get back here at once with the witch's wand! I can see you, there's no use hiding!"
Ah!
She grips Oreithye's hands tightly as she's jetted through the water, closing her eyes against it as the darkness blurs past.
One hand lets go, and then she comes to a stop as light filters through her eyelids.
Light?
Oh no! They're over the glass ceiling of the Slytherin common room! And someone is there, sat by the fire.
She hurriedly turns herself invisible as the person looks up.
Dumbledore.
Hermione lets the invisibility coat her mind as well as her body. What is he doing down there? The term hasn't even started yet—oh.
He doesn't look good. His hand, it—
"Autonoe, bring back the witch's wand at once, or I shall call Thetis and tell them of your foolish behaviour."
Dumbledore collapses onto the floor.
No no no
"But Oreithye! I still haven't learnt to make light. Is this how you say it, Hermione? Lumos!"
He's crawling now, pulling himself forwards and then collapsing again, the blackness spreading from his fingertips as he lies on the rug by the fire.
The gaunt ring. He's supposed to— where's Snape? Doesn't he—
"You are not a wand carrier, Autonoe. Return the instrument," Oreithye says softly.
A whine. "But Oreithye, please! Just one more try."
Dumbledore goes still, the blackness almost at his wrist.
Hermione turns to Autonoe with a growl. "You will never be able to cast a lumos. You are not a witch. Now hand me back my wand, child. You're so selfish you haven't even noticed the headmaster dying on the floor. Give it to me, so that a life isn't lost tonight."
Oreithye and Autonoe both fall still, looking down through the glass in dismay, and Hermione snatches her wand back.
And pops to the Headmaster's side. He's still warm to the touch, but deathly still.
What did— where is Snape? Is he stuck with the Death Eaters?
She'd better check.
She carefully checks the invisible feel of sand and sea, ensuring that every inch of her mind, her body, is hidden.
You can do this. It worked against Narcissa. And Snape. And they fooled Voldemort, so…
She takes one last steadying breath, and follows the thread to Bellatrix.
Chapter 30: Loyal ProtectorsNotes:Hello lovely people! Thank you for all of your kudos and comments in these crazy covid times.
Now let's forget all about it for a spell, and slip into a story.
Chapter Text
Oh no.
Hermione takes a step back from Bellatrix's madly grinning face, and finds herself within a circle of Death Eaters, all in long black robes and silent in the still night air, the grass crunching beneath her feet.
She hears movement behind her and slowly turns to look, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.
"Well done, Draco, that's it, join us. Join us and do what your father cannot," Voldemort hisses, eyes cold as Draco kneels before him in the fog.
Where are they? Why a field?
Bellatrix cackles in delight as Draco offers up his arm, trembling in the torchlight. "Don't be frightened, Draco. You're receiving the highest honour. You are a man now. One of us. You will do us proud, nephew."
Her eyes are crazed, bright, darting around…
And she's twirling her wand.
Hermione takes a shaky breath, tearing her eyes from the witch. There's no time. And you can't comfort her right now anyway.
She looks around at the masked figures, only Bellatrix, Voldemort, and Draco showing their faces. Is Snape here? He's high ranking, so perhaps near Bellatrix? But then why isn't she next to Voldemort, all the way on the other side of the circle?
Oh it's no use. She'll have to risk distracting her.
She reluctantly takes Bellatrix's hand. She flinches.
How can they…Tiggy had said…maybe just for a second...
She focuses on the thread. On the feeling of The Call. And speaks into it.
Can you hear me? I need Snape. Now. Dumbledore is dying too early. From the ring.
Oh that felt so strange, like the vibration of her voice along the thread was tickling her brain.
No reply. Can she not hear her, or just not respond? She might have to—
Bellatrix's hand squeezes hers back.
"Aren't you going to say something, Snape. You are his godfather, surely you have something to add on such a momentous occasion?" Bellatrix calls harshly across the circle of Death Eaters.
A voice rumbles back. "Of course, Bellatrix, I merely assumed such a sentiment to be painfully obvious. I did not wish to interrupt my Lord, as is so often your want."
Bellatrix's head whips around, eyes wide and lip trembling at Voldemort in agonised dismay. "My deepest apologies, my Lord, if this is true. I did not mean to interrupt the proceedings, I only thought that Snape may wish to say his piece, as he must part so soon and miss the ceremony."
That's it! Hermione squeezes her hand in thanks and then brushes past her and around the circle to Snape's side.
"You must leave, Severus? You did not inform me of such a need. What is so urgent that you must return to the old fool so soon?" Voldemort's high, cold voice questions as he snaps his attention to Snape.
Hermione hurriedly grabs Snape's arm before he can reply. He can't dispute this.
He doesn't even twitch, responding as calmly as ever.
"I'm afraid the old man was quite insistent. He is soon to collect Potter from his relatives. I believe I shall be able to gain valuable information, my Lord."
Voldemort hums in thought. "Very well. Leave us. The ceremony shall continue without you, I'm sure Bellatrix is willing to take your place?"
Snape bows his head and takes a step back, Hermione along with him, and she only manages to see Bellatrix dance eagerly into the centre of the circle before Snape is apparating them away.
They arrive in a nondescript forest, and Hermione takes a quick glance around before letting the invisibility drip off of her.
Snape pulls of his mask and hides it away in his robes. "So it is you, Miss Granger. What are you and Bellatrix—"
"There's no time. It's Dumbledore, you have to save him."
His eyes widen, and she doesn't wait any longer, popping them straight to the common room.
Oh Dumbledore does not look good. Sickly pale, arm twitching.
Snape swoops to kneel beside him. "Albus. What happened, Albus? Tell me."
The headmaster just whimpers, eyes squeezed shut. Snape turns to Hermione.
He put on a cursed ring, very dark magic, although I'm not sure I can tell you what it was. I don't know if you're supposed to know yet
Snape nods sharply and casts a diagnostic charm. A black cloud clings to the headmaster's hand, growing steadily thicker and darker.
Snape pales and begins hurriedly murmuring some kind of counter curse, wand scanning over the wizard's arm inch by inch.
Dumbledore groans, and his eyes blink open.
Hermione vanishes herself with a start. Did he see her?
"Se…rus. Too powerful…thought but…Fawkes…burning day."
Snape doesn't pause in his muttering, and a white mist seeps from his wand. How interesting. Is it related to the patronus charm? How do you stop Horcrux magic? Wasn't it remorse? Regret?
Well. Dumbledore looks like he's certainly regretting putting on the ring now.
Snape continues his work, and Dumbledore's eyes gradually become more focused, his strength returning, and soon he can pull himself up to rest against the side of an armchair.
Snape pauses. "That should stop the spreading. For now. I shall have to prepare a potion, and you should return at once to your quarters to rest. This is far from over." He swallows, expression pained. Weary. "You foolish old man. What possessed you to not check a ring for curses before putting it on?"
Dumbledore raises his eyebrows, eyes softening. "I do not think I mentioned a ring, Severus."
Oh dear. A slip up from Snape?
Hermione studies him more closely. There is a certain...panicked fear. Like a child realising a parent must leave on the first day of school.
She always forgets how young Snape is...and how emotionally stunted.
Snape gets to his feet, helping the older wizard into the chair. "And what else would have caused such a reaction? You're lucky I decided to return to my office at such a late hour."
"Perhaps. It appears Lady Luck was on my side tonight, wouldn't you agree, Severus? It must have been fate herself who brought you here. I can't thank her enough."
That crafty bugger. What does he know?
Snape snorts. "You bloody optimist. Only you would see this evening as lucky, Albus. I would curse the fates if they left me dying painfully on the floor."
Oh.
Oh knowing the future is horrible.
"Always the pessimist, Severus. I prefer, when possible, to believe that someone is watching over us. Even when we least expect it." Dumbledore twinkles, adjusting his half-moon glasses.
Okay, she gets the hint. She doesn't know how but he must know.
And that's why she needs to leave.
She pops away, back to Black Estate. To the room with her belongings in.
Merlin, she's freezing! And this was her favourite jumper.
She hurriedly casts a drying spell on herself. No. Fuzzy and ruined, as she expected. Well, Autonoe is going to get a talking to about tonight…although if it hadn't been for them, she never would have seen Dumbledore.
Did she always save his life tonight?
Does he owe her a life debt? Argh how does it work? Did Snape save him? Or was it Hermione bringing him there? Or Autonoe for causing the events to take place?
She definitely needs to do some reading on the subject at some point.
But for now, she's going to have a shower and get changed. She smells like a lake.
Hermione is back in the kitchen. She seems to spend her life between eating, swimming and showering these days. It must be late by now, but she hasn't checked the time. She's restless.
Poor Draco. So it's tonight. Narcissa must be in agony, Snape despairing, Bellatrix putting on a good show but...
Just a boy. Desperate and feeling so alone.
If only he knew how many people were worrying for him tonight.
She never knew when it happened. Draco never spoke about it. Was it always tonight, or have they changed something?
Did Dumbledore always go to the Slytherin common room?
The butterfly effect. Hermione has affected Bellatrix, Snape, and Narcissa so far. Possibly Dumbledore. Draco is so close to all of those people…is he going to remain untouched by this?
She'll have to remember to ask Bellatrix to keep a close eye on him. For any changes.
She looks down at her cold cup of tea.
Hmm. Take your mind off of things, Hermione.
"Tiggy? If I can use elf magic to hear The Call and turn invisible…can I use it for other things? Like heat my tea, for example, or cast light? That would be useful."
Tiggy looks up from their newspaper across the table. "You is being able to, but you is being a witch. You is having your own magic. You is not needing it."
Hmph. "Well having a light underwater would be useful! But how am I supposed to cast a lumos without a wand? Or light fire in the water?"
Tiggy raises an eyebrow. And then clicks their fingers.
And a light shines from the tip of their index finger.
E.T phone home Hermione's brain supplies stupidly before she can shake the thought.
Of course. This whole time—
She could smack herself. Why did neither her or Bellatrix think of that?
She holds out her index finger. "Lumos!"
Nothing happens. Oh, right. Connection. Want it, feel it, remember it. "Lumos."
And a white light glows from her fingertip. Brilliant.
"Yes! No more being blind in the dark! Nox. Lumos. Nox."
Finally, something is going her way today.
Tiggy looks back at their newspaper, shaking their head. "I is telling you. You is strange, Miss Hermione."
Hermione just shrugs. The world's a strange place. She's had a strange month. Maybe she should just embrace the madness. The chaos. Throw the rulebook out the window and see what happens.
What on Earth has happened to Hermione Granger?
"Hermiiione! Where aaare you?" Ah. That's what's happened to her. Speak of the devil.
"In the kitchen!" she yells back.
"Hermione?!"
Oh for Merlin's—
She closes her eyes and cricks her neck, sighing as she searches for the thread, speaking into it, softly this time.
I'm in the kitchen
And Bellatrix appears before them with a whirl of black smoke. And a wobble to her step. Is she…?
She stumbles forwards and steadies herself on the kitchen counter. "There you are, pet. How were you whispering in my ear with your little…your little whispering, you whispery…and Tiggy! Tiggy is here! And reading the Prophet!"
She gasps dramatically and then raises a finger to her lips. "Ssshhh don't tell! It's a sseeecret. Our secret little secret, isn't that right, Tiggy?"
Tiggy gives her a very disapproving look. "Is no one alive to be keeping the secret from now, Mistress Bella. And you is knowing this, when you don't be drinking. You is being a silly elfling. You is needing your mind to be steady, not all tipsy-turvey."
Oh, Hermione doesn't know whether to be loving this or horrified. "Bellatrix…you were careful to keep our secrets too, weren't you? With the others?"
Bellatrix huffs, and then walks around the counter, pulling Hermione's stool so it scrapes backwards on the tile floor. Ah! Hermione clings on, hoping she won't be tipped backwards.
"Yes, yes. I haven't told them anything, don't worry your curly little head about it. I kept my lips sealed."
Hmm. Well that's debatable seeing as—mmph!
Bellatrix puts a hand over Hermione's mouth and clambers up onto the stool with her, straddling her lap.
Wha— oh good lord! This is not making anything less confusing, her thighs are— what is she—
"Sshhhh don't you be all judgy judgy either. I didn't drink with them, I went to check on Cissy afterwards. And trust me, I needed a looot to drink for that conversation."
Oh. Well that's slightly better. Except—
And you didn't let anything slip to your legilimens sister?
Bellatrix just stares back, tilting her head to the side. Her cheeks are flushed from the alcohol. Eyes Glazed. It's becoming rather difficult to stop her thoughts from wandering, especially as Bellatrix wriggles in her lap and stares into her eyes— Ow!
Ow, Bellatrix! Don't pull on the thread so hard!
"It's so strange…don't you think? It's like…a connection!" she whispers, eyes wide like this is some great revelation.
Okay, definitely too much to drink. Calm down, Hermione.
She pulls Bellatrix's hand away from her mouth. "Well, yes. We already established that."
Bellatrix shakes her head frantically and then grabs Hermione's shoulders as she loses her balance, squeezing her eyes shut. "No! I mean— okay, I'm thinking of a colour, what is it? No peeking."
Hermione chuckles. "I'm not sure that's how—"
"I'm sending it through the thread. Pay attention!"
Hermione closes her eyes with a sigh. "I'm not getting anything. Try speaking through it. Like a teleph— oh, nevermind. Oh wait!"
She snaps her eyes open and pushes Bellatrix gently off her lap, getting to her feet. "I need to show you something! This might help you with the thread. Tiggy! Do you have any wool from your knitting? And two empty tins?"
Tiggy clicks their fingers without looking up, and some red string and two tins appear on the side. Hermione turns to Bellatrix with a wide grin. "I always wanted to try this with a friend as a kid! I never— no one really wanted to do this with me. Sometimes my Nan would if I asked nicely, but— what?"
Bellatrix reaches out and rubs her thumb over Hermione's cheek, frowning at her. "I think I could have been your friend. It would have been nice. To have a friend like you."
Oh.
Hermione's heart begins to hum warmly in her chest. Oh she—
"I would have liked that. Shame we never— that we're not the same age. And that I'm a muggleborn. We never had a chance."
Bellatrix steps forwards and wraps her arms around her. Hugging her tightly.
"It doesn't matter that you're a muggleborn," she growls. "It doesn't."
"It doesn't it doesn't it doesn't," she whispers to herself. "You're just Hermione, right? Still just Hermione?"
Hermione sighs, bringing her arms up to hug her back. "I'm Hermione and I'm a muggleborn. You can't just ignore that to make yourself feel better, Bellatrix."
Bellatrix goes stiff in her arms and pulls back. Hermione looks away uncomfortably, to her horror feeling tears forming in her eyes at the thought that—
She swallows a lump in her throat. "Muggles are just people, Bellatrix. Good and bad and everything in between. My parents are muggles I— tell me you don't think— I need to know if—"
She can feel the witch's hands against her back, clenching her top in her fists.
"I don't know. How can they be— It's so confusing. But don't cry. I know you're not that different from us, from me. But that means…If Andy was right then—"
She rests her chin on Hermione's shoulder.
"I tried last night to imagine…to pretend— But I still remember all of the— the lessons. I can't— It was— don't make me remember I— I don't want to—"
She's shaking now, clinging to Hermione, who holds her up in shock.
And then she hears the cupboards begin to rattle. Oh no.
Oh this is bad. What should she do? What is the real fear here?
Control. Feeling lost.
"Bellatrix…I'm not going to ask any more difficult questions, okay? Just simple ones. So. Do you want me to keep touching you, or to let go?"
"I don't— don't leave me."
That's not an answer. And there's a gurgling in the taps. She really doesn't want another storm right now.
"I won't leave you. I'm right here, I'm okay. We're both okay."
Bellatrix shifts slightly, moves so her lips are almost touching Hermione's ear. "I hate you. I hate you so much," she whispers.
Hermione gasps. She can't help it. It's so cruel and—
"I hate the way you make me feel. I hate that I have to question everything when you're around. I hate that I'm so weak with you. That I say things I shouldn't. Do things I shouldn't."
Oh. Well that's a bit different.
Hermione pulls her close with one arm, and strokes the witch's hair with the other.
"I know," she sighs. And she does. She definitely knows that feeling.
She holds Bellatrix close. "I know," she repeats soothingly.
She feels hands stroke across her back, and a face press against her neck.
The rattling stops, and the pipes cease their creaking.
For a moment they just breathe. They hardly ever have time to stop and breathe.
It's nice to hold someone. It's steadying. Hermione is feeling rather lost herself, she has to admit.
Tiggy clears their throat. "It be time for bed, Mistress Bella. You is saying goodnight to Miss Hermione, and Tiggy is taking you to bed," they rumble softly.
Oh. She forgot Tiggy was there.
Bellatrix pulls back, head ducked and rubbing at her eyes as she takes a couple of steps backwards towards Tiggy.
"Goodnight, Hermione," she rasps, taking Tiggy's hand.
Hermione's heart clenches at how lost the witch still is. Part of her wonders how many times Tiggy has done this. Looked after her when no one else would. Can't help imagining a younger Bellatrix holding onto the elf just as confusedly. Fearfully.
Bellatrix's eyes focus, and she smiles at Hermione. A small but genuine smile. "Tiggy's always there. Always protecting me. Did you think I didn't have a scrawny boy in a bathroom?" She shakes her head at Hermione. "We're too similar for that. Bookworm."
Hermione shakes her head with a smile. "Goodnight, Know It All."
Bellatrix sticks her tongue out at her, and Tiggy apparates then away.
Hermione walks over to stare into the fire.
The flames dance, and the logs crackle. Time ticks on.
And still she can't stop thinking about Bellatrix.