Chapter 13: Attract AttentionNotes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Jealous. That's the word of the day on Saturday. The gossip mill has been spinning once again, and now everyone seems to be jealous of Hermione and Ron for talking to Viktor yesterday. The staring is back. Whispering. Pointing. Even worse than the week before.
And it only gets worse when the evening edition of the Prophet arrives. A Love Triangle. That's what Skeeter is calling it. The Triwizard Love Triangle.
The picture of Hermione glaring at Fleur is in there. And her talking to Viktor, him laughing. Fleur smiling at Viktor.
But that isn't what catches Hermione's attention when she manages to find a spare copy on the table in the Great Hall before dinner.
Because there are photographs of each of the champions on the front page.
Including Bellatrix.
Skeeter hasn't left her out. Is apparently using all the gossip she can get. The handsome quidditch star, the ambitious Golden Girl, the seductive French Veela…and the mysterious, thought-to-be-dead Death Eater.
A photograph of Bellatrix. With a large question mark next to it, and a smaller photo of her headstone outside Azkaban.
"That's her?!" Ron squeaks. Turns to look at the staff table and then hurriedly looks away, realising he doesn't actually want to catch Bellatrix's eye.
Hermione slowly nods. "Yes, that's her. But this must be an…old photo. She's older now."
The photo is of Bellatrix in her early twenties. Or that's what Hermione would guess, given she's not in Azkaban yet but obviously out of Hogwarts, and…
Well she's young, and rather beautiful. She can understand Ron's shock at the sight of her. She's…striking.
Even if, from the looks of it, she's up to her usual destruction. This time in Diagon Alley. Blasting open the front of the apothecary and then turning to glare at whoever is taking the photo, raising her wand at them before the image goes white. Repeats.
Did she…kill the photographer?
Oh.
Her heart aches as she has a sudden thought. Looks for Neville. Poor Neville—
He's not here…
"Neville?" she whispers to Harry.
Harry smiles sadly, patting her on the back. "Left for the greenhouses."
She nods. Well…that's not surprising.
She looks back at the paper. Her own photo waves at her. At the photographs of Viktor and Fleur. Smiles at them as they cautiously wave back. Photo-Fleur begins to walk over…
And then the Hermione in the photo glances sideways at photo-Bellatrix nervously. Waves at Bellatrix too.
Stop it! Why would—
Bellatrix blasts away the front of the apothecary. Whirls around…and then pauses mid-spin. Looks sideways instead, at the photo of Hermione.
A snort comes from behind Hermione. "See? I was right. She's even stalking you in picture form," Ginny laughs. "Photos don't lie, Hermione."
Harry stands up. "Then you'd better sit here and keep an eye out during dinner," he says. "Me and Ron have to get to the dungeons for detention."
Ginny falls into his spot. "I just came from there. He had me pickling rat brains all afternoon, but there were still some left to finish up, so have fun with that."
Ron grimaces. "Pickled— What potion even uses that?"
"Brain elixir…" Hermione mutters absentmindedly, still watching her photograph interact with Bellatrix. Both of them looking at each other from the edge of their frames.
Death Eater. She's definitely still a Death Eater in this world. She's blowing up a shop. And she's dressed the same as before, black dress, same wand, same hair and same…
Is scowling. Folding her arms and scowling as Fleur and Viktor walk into Hermione's picture to talk to her and point at Bellatrix.
Ginny takes the paper from her and looks at it. "She doesn't look anything like Mrs Malfoy, does she? Kinda looks like Sirius though. Oh, ha! Well fuck you, too!"
What? Oh. Photo-Bellatrix is giving Ginny the finger.
"Ten points from Gryffindor for such appalling language, Miss Weasley!" Professor McGonagall's voice suddenly snaps from behind them. Uh oh.
Ginny turns bright red. "Uh, Sorry Professor. But it was— She started it!"
She holds up the front page to McGonagall and points at Bellatrix. Who sticks her tongue out at them.
McGonagall sighs shakily, taking the paper. "A bad influence from beyond the grave…" she murmurs to herself.
Bellatrix skips over to the picture of her gravestone. Studies it critically. Then leans against it, folding her arms, crossing her ankles, and raising an eyebrow at them.
"I'm not sure she is dead, Professor," Hermione whispers back.
Turns to look at her Head of House. Searches her face. "You knew her, didn't you? You…Professor Dumbledore doesn't believe us, but you heard what Harry said. That Professor Moody—"
McGonagall abruptly hands the paper back. "You'd do well not to listen to gossip and rumours, Miss Granger. I'd thought perhaps seeing how you yourself have been portrayed by Ms Skeeter would have shown you that. Let me assure you that Alastor Moody, is Alastor Moody, and that it is quite impossible that he is in fact Bellatrix Black."
"It's not impossible!" Ginny says. "What about polyjuice potion?"
McGonagall smiles sadly. "Polyjuice only alters appearances. And as you have pointed out, I did once…know Miss Black. Almost all of the staff here did. And she…you're too young to understand. That's why you should trust our judgement. It is not her. So put that worry aside. You have other things to worry about, hmm, Miss Granger?"
And with that she raises an eyebrow and walks over to the staff table for dinner.
Huh?
Hermione turns back around. Whispers to Ginny. "It is her. I saw it. Yesterday, her potion was wearing off and I saw her hair coming back. Curls. Like that."
She taps on the picture of Bellatrix.
Food begins to appear. Ginny shrugs. "I believe you. But McGonagall sure as hell doesn't, does she?"
No. Not at all.
And Hermione can kind of see why.
Because the Bellatrix in the photo? The one cackling and blowing up a shopfront? Dancing around and shooting out hexes? Glaring at Hermione?
That's not the Bellatrix she's seen over the last few weeks at Hogwarts.
Ginny passes her the peas. "So…did she tell you what you're doing with her in detention tomorrow?"
Oh. Sunday again. Detention with Bellatrix.
No. Hermione has no idea what will happen tomorrow.
As it turns out, nothing. Nothing happens. Because Bellatrix has cancelled her detention. Which is…
Suspicious. Confusing. Infuriating.
Two months. For two months now, almost three, Bellatrix has been showing up everywhere Hermione goes. Staring at her. Watching her. Grinning at her.
And now nothing. The whole week, Bellatrix barely looks her way. Doesn't talk to her. Doesn't appear at any point outside of class.
Avoiding her. It's the only explanation. She got caught out with her polyjuice potion, and now she's avoiding Hermione altogether.
"Or it could be that her face is all over the papers and it's spooked her," Harry points out as they make their way towards the Three Broomsticks, Hermione finished with her rant.
Hmm. Well, that's true too.
"Speaking of which," Ron whispers. "We've got a bug following us."
Hermione knows. She spotted Skeeter and her photographer lurking a while ago. Cast a muffiliato charm against eavesdropping. She'd thought the witch would have more sense, but—
Hermione spins around. Marches towards Rita Skeeter, wand drawn. "Stop bugging us. Just leave us alone. All of us. Or at least stop using that quill and tell a true story for once in your life. You know, actual journalism? Fact checking?"
Harry puts a hand on her arm. "Come on, Hermione. Just ignore her. It's not worth it."
Hermione shrugs him off. "Words matter. They're important," she grits out. "Spreading lies can have a real impact on people's lives. It's not just about me. Do you think it's fair on Fleur? On Viktor?"
Skeeter laughs. "Well! What a brave lion we have here! So protective of the other champions. I can see the inter-school relations are going well. So Viktor and Fleur, hmm? Close with them, are you?"
Hermione frowns. Steps back. "They're both very friendly. We get on well when we do see each other, yes. A competition doesn't mean we have to hate each other."
Skeeter produces a quill and a little leather book from her pocket. Begins making notes. By hand. "Close with the competition. And…have you been helping each other? The first task will be…in three days time. Any idea what it will be?"
Hmm. Well this is suspicious, but doesn't seem…overly malicious.
Hermione shakes her head. "None of us know what it will be. And we don't talk about it. I don't know what the others have been doing, but I'm sure they're practicing a lot of spells and reading up on different topics like I am. I've seen Viktor in the library quite often."
"In the library with Viktor…" Skeeter murmurs, tongue wetting her lip as she writes. "And you haven't seen Miss Delacour at all?"
Hermione shrugs. "We've spoken a few times. She might be in Hogsmeade today, I'm not sure."
"You're going to the Three Broomsticks?"
Ron clears his throat. "Yeah. We're about to go in now. So…"
Skeeter shrinks her book. Puts it back in her pocket. Twirls her wand through her hair. "Then I'll leave you to it!"
She turns to leave. "Oh, one last question…"
Hermione huffs. Carries on towards the Three Broomsticks. "I think that's enough questions for—"
"Bellatrix Black. Any idea how her name came out of the goblet?"
Hermione carries on walking. "No idea. She's dead, isn't she?"
"Mr Potter, what do you think? I heard you had a lot to say on the matter? Made some accusations?"
"Uh…no. Well— I did think— but Professor Dumbledore said—" Harry stutters.
Hermione grabs Harry's arm and drags him towards the door. "No comment. Come on, Harry."
"Are you disappointed you couldn't enter, Harry? You are the Saviour, after all. People say you'll be a powerful wizard one day!" Skeeter calls. "Didn't you want to see what you could do?"
"Sod off and leave him alone!" Ron shouts. "Course he didn't want to enter. He's fourteen. He could bloody die."
"Just ignore her, Ron," Hermione hisses, pushing open the door.
It's busy inside. Fred, George and Lee Jordan are already there, at a table by the window. There are some spare seats. Ron waves at them and gestures to the bar, motioning that he's getting a drink but to save the chairs for them.
They all push through the milling crowd. "I'll get it, Ron," Harry says. "First round's on me."
Ron shakes his head, fumbling around in his pocket for the money. "I've got it. I can buy a sodding butterbeer, Harry, alright? It's not like—"
"I know that. I just thought—"
"Well, stop it. I know you're being nice and all that, but you don't have to—"
"Hermione!"
And Hermione is yanked away from the boys by the back of her robes.
Relashio! she thinks, spinning around and—
Fleur raises her hands in surrender. "It's me! I am only saying hello!"
Oh.
Hermione lowers her wand. "Sorry. You surprised me. Umm…hi."
A table of Beauxbatons girls, all looking at Hermione suspiciously.
Except for Fleur. She kisses Hermione's cheeks in greeting. "Hello. I was wondering if you and your friends wanted to sit with us? We have wine?"
Hermione smiles. Maybe Fleur hasn't changed that much over the years then.
"Oh, sure. We definitely want to join you," Ron says, quickly coming over. "I'm Ron Weasley, and this is Harry. Harry Potter."
Hermione sits down next to Fleur. "And they are both fourteen, so won't be drinking."
"Hermione!"
Fleur laughs, subtly casting the Veela shield Hermione taught her between herself and the boys as they get closer. "But of course they can! Look how small the glasses are. It is nothing. You English are too strict with these things."
Ron sits down, pulling Harry into the chair next to him. "Yeah, Hermione. Lighten up. She's right. It's not that big a deal."
Not a— "Madam Rosmerta could lose her license! Just because you're all seventeen doesn't mean—"
"I am eighteen," Fleur grins. "My birthday was yesterday. And as an adult…I think your law says that I can accompany minors and buy drinks for them, as long as they are eating in the pub, non?"
She gestures to a few plates of food on the table.
The sneaky…
"That's only for sixteen-year-olds…" Hermione mutters. Hang on. "Wait. It was your birthday! I forgot!"
Fleur gives her an odd look. "Of course you did not know. It is fine."
Oh. Right. Not friends yet. Gah. It's so confusing with Fleur and Viktor! They don't look that different to in the future, it's so easy to forget!
Ron stands up. "I'll get butterbeers for us then. Don't want to get Madam Rosmerta in trouble."
Harry frowns. "So…we're allowed butterbeer but not wine? Why?"
"Butterbeer doesn't count as alcoholic because the alcohol percentage is so low," Hermione explains automatically, looking across the table at the other Beauxbatons students. Who are still just staring at her. Do…they never talk? Do they not speak English?
She waves at one. "Bonjour."
The girl's eyes widen. She looks at Fleur.
Fleur sighs and says something in French about…interdite…Madame Maxime…
"They're not allowed to talk to me?" Hermione sputters. "That's ridiculous!"
Fleur shakes her head. "Madame Maxime does not want us talking to the other champions. But yes. I also think this is ridiculous. We are not talking about the tournament! It is fine. So, I say the subject is forbidden, and we talk about other things, bon?"
"Like the terrible wine?" one girl says sulkily.
"And the strange professors?" says another.
"And that this is Harry Potter and nobody is talking to him?!" Another girl says, hands flying into the air in exasperation as she leans closer to Harry. "He is famous! Where are all of his friends and admirers? Are you horrible or something?"
Harry leans back as she scrutinises him closely for his hidden defects. "Uhh…no. And I do have friends! Hermione is— and Ron. And— I was going to sit over there with my friends, so—"
"Do you have a girlfriend?" the girl interrupts him.
"Do you want one?" another quickly asks.
"Arrêtez!" Fleur shouts through laughter. "Leave the poor little boy alone. He is cute like a baby."
Harry splutters. His mouth falls open. "I— baby? I'm not— I— Oh look, Ron needs help carrying the drinks."
And he shoots out of his chair and over to the bar.
Hermione laughs. Looks like Harry won't have any trouble finding a date to the Ball this time.
"Does he?" Fleur asks. "Have a girlfriend? Or boyfriend?"
Hermione looks at Fleur in surprise. Raises an eyebrow.
Fleur tuts. "Not for me. I am just curious. Camille is right. It is strange that he is famous but people do not…like him."
Hermione checks that Harry is still at the bar. Then leans in to talk to the girls. "He doesn't want to be famous. He likes being normal. Being treated like everyone else. And…no. He doesn't have a girlfriend or boyfriend or anything. There is a girl I think he might like, but—"
Camille squeals. "Who is it? We should tell her!"
Hermione holds up a hand. "But she has a boyfriend already."
Cho. Does Harry still like Cho this time? Hermione hasn't noticed.
Plus there's the whole 'married to future Ginny' thing, not that she'll be telling them that or forcing them together when they're this young.
Fleur clears her throat loudly. "So, Hermione, do you like anyone?"
Wha— Well that's— Why is—
Has Fleur been drinking too much? Why is she being so nosy and— Oh, Harry is coming back. So Fleur was changing the subject.
Ron puts the tray down, and Hermione takes a butterbeer gratefully. "Thanks. And no. No, I— well I don't have time for dating, do I? Not with…the thing we're not talking about."
"The newspaper said you like Viktor Krum," one girl says, folding her arms and smirking. "Is this true?"
Hermione glares at her. "No."
Fleur throws an arm over Hermione's shoulders. "Do not listen to Isabelle, she is of a bad mood today. She knows the newspaper is not true. Fighting over Viktor. That is why I ask you to sit with me. To show we are friends. Even if you are English and strange."
Strange?!
Fleur smiles at her. "A joke. So tell me, Ron Weasley, your hair, it is natural?"
Ron flushes to match his hair and shrugs uncomfortably. "Yeah. Runs in the family. Red hair."
Fleur nods. "It is magnifique. I have never met someone with red hair in France, but I see many since I arrive here."
"Uhh, thanks. I guess. You probably saw my brothers and little sister."
Fleur looks around the tavern. "Your family is here? Oh, I miss my sister so much. She also has blonde hair, like me. This is also in our family. It is hard to be away from…oh. Those are your brothers? They are jumeaux?"
They follow Fleur's gaze to Fred and George.
The twins look up. One of them winks.
Ron scowls. "Ignore them."
Fleur takes a sip of wine. Winks back.
Oh dear.
What…
What happens if Fleur…
She can't be interest in Fred or George! That— But Bill!
Red hair. Cheeky. Mischievous. Up for an adventure.
Hermione turns Fleur around by the shoulders, so the twins aren't in her line of sight. "So. Your sister. Tell me more about her. Did she send you a birthday card?"
Fleur huffs. "You don't want me looking at the wizards? Pourquoi? You are jealous?"
The grumpy witch, Isabelle, mutters something in French and all the other girls start glancing at Hermione and whispering.
Hermione sighs. "I'm not jealous! I told you! I'm not interested in anyone. What is this obsession with talking about boys and dating?"
Fleur pours herself some more wine with a hum of amusement. "They are not talking about boys. They think you are in love with me."
Hermione freezes in surprise and Harry spits butterbeer everywhere as he starts laughing. "Wha— Hermione— you— why?!"
Fleur shrugs, cleaning up the spillage with a flick of her wand. Fleur. "It often happens to me. And it is true, Hermione, we do not know each other very long, but you are often touching me, whispering to me, joking and smiling. They notice."
Hermione groans. Oh dear. She's accidentally…oh and she is touching Fleur!
She moves her arm away. "Sorry! I'm not— You're very pretty, Fleur, but I'm not in love with you. I just— I'm being friendly!"
Fleur sighs. "Ah. Dommage. You— oh. I think that big wizard over there is waving at us."
Big…Hagrid?
Oh, the dragons!
Hermione stands up. "That's Hagrid, our Care of Magical Creatures Professor. I'll go see what he wants."
And she quickly walks over. She definitely needs to get out of that conversation. In love with Fleur? This is a very strange universe to be dropped into—
Shit. Bellatrix is with Hagrid. Hermione hadn't noticed her stood behind him.
"Alright there, 'ermione?" Hagrid greets her cheerfully. "Not too nervous abou' the first task I 'ope?"
Hermione smiles. "A little. But I've done my best to read as much as I can, just in case. It's so hard not knowing what it will be!"
Hagrid glances around awkwardly. "Yeah, very 'ard. Very difficult. Still, yeh always know what to do, don't yeh? Got a good 'ead on those shoulders, as I was jus' sayin' to Professor Moody over 'ere. Nothin' our Hermione can't 'andle."
Hermione glances at Bellatrix.
Bellatrix shrugs. "There's only so much you can prepare. Guess we'll have to wait and see how much Granger can handle."
Well. What is that supposed to mean?
Hagrid clears his throat. "Uhh…right. Okay then. Is tha' Harry and Ron over there? Looks like you lot are making some new friends this year. Good, tha' is. Makin' those French lot feel at 'ome."
Hermione looks over. Harry waves. And Fleur.
Bellatrix barks out a laugh. "Interesting choice of friends, Granger. Very trusting."
Hermione turns back around with a huff. Will she stop with the— "There's nothing wrong with champions being friends! I like Fleur. What does trusting have anything to do with—"
"Being vigilant, are you? Watching yourself? Or are you letting her pour the wine?"
"I'm not drinking wine," Hermione grits out. "I'm underage. We all are."
Bellatrix raises an eyebrow. "She's not."
Wha…
Why…
Hermione looks at Hagrid in complete confusion at where this conversation is going.
Hagrid shrugs. "Whelp. Guess we'd better 'ead on back to the castle. You lot have fun, and say 'ello to 'arry for me. Oh."
He leans closer to whisper to her. "And ask 'im to ask after Witherwings. Been too long now since I 'eard from 'im and Padfoot."
Oh no. He whispered. But loudly enough to still reach Bellatrix.
Bellatrix's magical eye spins towards Hagrid. She steps closer. "Witherwings and…Padfoot? Unusual names…"
Hagrid laughs. "Well 'course they are! Did Dumbledore not tell yeh? 'Course they got right unusual names when one's an 'ippogriff and one's—"
"Hagrid!" Hermione shouts. Just because— because— gah shut up!
She clears her throat as he falls silent. "Maybe…maybe leave that up to Dumbledore? Telling people?" she says more gently.
Hagrid nods, running a hand over his beard. "Right. Yer right. Good thinkin', Hermione. Should no' of said tha'. Never know who's listenin', do yeh?"
Bellatrix claps Hagrid on the back. "Let's get on back to the castle. Too many bloody strangers hanging around here. Too many eyes and ears. We can go back to your hut and put the kettle on, and you can tell me more about those skrewts."
They begin to leave. No. But— but how can she—
"You don't want to stay?" Hermione calls. "Sit with us? There's room at—"
"I'll see you tomorrow, Granger! Detention. Seven o'clock," Bellatrix shouts back.
And they leave out the door.
Hermione heads back towards the table defeatedly. Prays to all the gods that for once Hagrid keeps his mouth shut.
And he didn't even tell her about the dragons! Why? Does he just think she's smarter than Harry? Does he like Harry more than her? Did Crouch convince him last time, but this time Bellatrix didn't bother?
Why is Bellatrix even hanging out with Hagrid, then? Because it's definitely not to talk about skrewts. She must be trying to get information out of him.
Although she does have her fair share of magical creatures to care for…
"Hermione!"
Someone grabs her arm as she passes the door, and this time Hermione manages not to draw her wand.
Ginny smiles at her. "Good, I found you. Wasn't sure if the boys would have left yet for their detention with Snape. He just let me go. Is there space for me at…You're sat with the French girls?"
Oh, yes, detention. Harry and Ron had better get going.
Hermione shrugs. "Fleur asked us to sit with her. They're actually quite nice. Well. Fleur is, at least. I didn't get much of a chance to talk to…wait. Why do you always have detention without the boys? Have you been…alone with Snape all afternoon?"
It's strange. And a bit creepy.
Ginny rolls her eyes, moving out of the way of the door to let Ernie Macmillan get past. "He says we can't be trusted together. Make too much mischief. So he keeps me separate. But Neville was there today too, working on his antidote. It exploded twice, so Snape made him go right back to basics and started teaching him how to prepare his cauldron and do temperature gauges and stuff like that. First year stuff."
Oh.
He's…teaching Neville? Privately? Did Bellatrix change—
Harry and Ron come up behind Ginny, putting their cloaks moodily. Ron looks especially sour faced. "Stupid, rotten Snape. Witches! French witches that want to talk to us, drink with us, and we have to go and crush up dung beetles or something for greasy Snape."
"Flobberworms, actually," Ginny says. "Mincing flobberworms."
Ron's mouth practically bends off his face in dismay.
Harry chuckles. "We'd better go. If we're late, he'll have us there until midnight. And anyway. Don't think you were having much luck with Fleur. She obviously has someone else in mind."
Someone— "Not Fred and George," Hermione groans. Oh this is so going to complicate things.
"Fred— what?!" Ginny shouts, looking around for her brothers.
Harry laughs again. "No! Not— Hermione, did you not notice that you just rejected Fleur Delacour? I think she likes you."
Wha…what?
But—
That's not—
Hermione pulls all three of them outside into the village and around a corner. "Fleur likes me? That's— Fleur doesn't like me. She can't. She—"
Ginny whistles. "Delacour. Damn. And you rejected her? Why the hell would you do that? You said she was nice."
Hermione leans back against a wall and groans, casting a muffiliato and then covering her face. "She is! But she— You must have got it wrong. I'm only fifteen. She can't like me."
"Uh, Hermione, you're twenty-five, remember?" Ron whispers loudly.
Hermione pulls her hands away to look at them. "She doesn't know that. She thinks I'm fifteen. And she doesn't like me! She's never liked me. Not like that. We're friends."
Ginny crowds closer, grinning. "You're friends with her in the future? After all those years? And you're not going out with anyone. Are you sure you're just friends?"
Yes! And— it's—
"She's married to Bill!" Hermione can't help but hiss out as they laugh at her. "Your brother! They have kids!"
Ginny steps back, mouth falling open. "Bill?"
"I'm an uncle?" Ron says. "Bloody hell. Fleur's my family?"
Finally.
Hermione relaxes. "Yes. That's why I'm so used to her. We see each other all the time. Her and Bill."
Harry clears his throat awkwardly. "So…okay, I might be wrong. But…I think if you're not careful you might steal Bill's wife."
Hermione leans against him. "I'm being friendly! That's all! I haven't…kissed her or anything!"
Ginny laughs. "Maybe you should. You said this is a different universe. If Fleur likes you—"
"She shouldn't kiss her!" Ron shouts. "Hermione doesn't want to— Do you want to?"
Hermione pulls away from Harry. Feels her face heat up as she considers…
Hmm. Kiss a witch. She's never really contemplated…
She's not opposed to it. If Fleur did kiss her, then…she'd probably try it. Kiss back. Ginny's right. Fleur isn't married yet.
But if Fleur actually likes her, she wouldn't trick her like that. Use her. Hurt her feelings. This is just hypothetical. It's to imagine how it would feel for a witch to—
She's broken from her thoughts as Ginny snorts and grabs her arm. "Well, there's your answer. You boys have fun with Snape. Me and Hermione will go say hi to Fleur."
Hermione tuts. "We'll say goodbye to Fleur, and then I'll go back to the library. The task is on Tuesday and I still need to improve on my plan. It's still quite risky."
If only she could use Fleur's sleeping charm idea. It's the best approach by far, but would look very suspicious if they both used it…
Ginny leans to whisper in her ear. "Going to kiss Fleur goodbye? You know you want to."
Hermione smacks her arm. "No. It wouldn't be right. She's my friend, and doesn't really know who I am," she whispers back as she opens the door.
Ginny pauses them by the entrance. "But…so you do like witches?"
Hermione bites her lip. Looks around the tavern. At Fleur. Angelica, Katie, and Alicia. At Madam Rosmerta. Imagines…possibly… "Maybe," Hermione whispers. "I haven't really thought about it. But…yes. I might. A little. I think?"
She tries to picture it. If she had the choice, who would she have asked to the Yule Ball? Ron? Viktor?
It was fun going with Viktor. But...the same as it would have been to dance with Harry. They had a good time. But kissing him…
Who does she want to kiss?
Ginny squeezes her arm. Smiles at her. "Me too," she whispers back.
Oh.
Well, she knew that. Bisexual. Ginny told her that ages ago.
But not when she was thirteen.
Hermione hugs her. "I know. You told me in the future. We all know."
Ginny hugs her tighter. "You do? Even— and Mum and Dad aren't— or my brothers?"
"They're fine with it. It's never an issue. They love you."
Ginny laughs quietly. "Thank Merlin. Okay. Okay, but— But you didn't know that you—"
Hermione groans. "Romance and dating aren't a big part of my life! I'm busy with work. I've dated wizards, but— Look, do you want to go talk to some French girls? And maybe warn me if I'm accidentally…signalling to Fleur?"
Ginny pulls back with a grin. "Want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?"
Hermione's face screws up. Ew, no! "No! You're so young and— No! Just— I don't want to hurt her feelings if Harry is right about...all this. And keep her away from Fred and George too, she likes redheads."
Ginny flicks her hair over her shoulders. "Redheads? Hmm, maybe I should get to know Fleur."
No. Ginny— don't—
And she's walking over.
Fantastic.
Notes:Oh dear, Hermione. Now that's a possibility she didn't expect!
And don't worry, this is still bellamione, not fleurmione. Hermione's just too obliviously charming for her own good haha. But look at that. Questions questions. Kiss a witch? Now that's a novel idea ;)
Chapter 14: Consult with an ExpertNotes:Hi folks!
Thank you all so much for the kudos and comments, it's amazing how many of you come to talk to me in the comments. I love hearing from you!
And after edging into Fleurmione last chapter, I had a little go writing an unrelated one shot for them. Go check it out if Fleurmione is your thing!
Anyway, back to the story. Enjoy!
Chapter Text
Hermione wraps her cloak around her more tightly, casts a lumos, and hooks her arm through Ginny's. It gets dark so quickly now. At least it's not raining, otherwise this walk back to the castle would be dreadful.
They probably should have left Fleur and the others earlier. But Ginny was having fun, and it was nice to talk to Fleur. Even if it was a bit awkward now that there's a possibility that…
No. It's fine! Fleur is just being friendly. She has to be.
She's your friend, and she's eighteen, and if she does like you, it's probably because you're the only person at Hogwarts who's treating her like a normal person.
"So Charlie's really here, then? Can't believe he didn't tell us," Ginny says, looking towards the forest.
Hermione nods. "He'll be out there right now with the dragons. It's all a secret. Or should be. I bet Viktor already knows. And Fleur will, by tomorrow."
They pass through the school gates, and Ginny pulls Hermione sharply to the left. "Well let's go see him then! The rules said you couldn't get help from your professors, but Charlie isn't a professor! He'll know what to do."
Hermione tries to pull her back towards the path to the castle entrance.
Half-heartedly. She has a point.
"Ginny, if someone sees us—"
"You know hiding spells, right? Invisibility or something?"
"Well, yes, but—"
"Come on, then. It's only two days now until the first task, and all you have is that charm for fireproof robes that you found, and a plan to dodge a dragon!"
And she could still use what Cedric did and conjure a distraction. What she really needs is some kind of warding spell. A containment spell. Or a way of freezing the dragon.
She hasn't found anything strong enough.
Hermione…gives in. Taps Ginny firmly on the head with her wand, and then does the same for herself. Concealment charms.
"Ugh, what was that? It feels like an egg dripping down my neck!" Ginny complains.
Hermione chuckles. Casts a muffiliato. "It's a concealment charm. I'll teach it to you later when I have time. But it's not full invisibility, you need a cloak for that, so stick to the shadows."
"And watch out for dragons…" Ginny says quietly as they head deeper through the trees.
Trees that grow taller and taller. Hermione isn't quite sure where the dragons will be. Probably where Grawp was. Outside of Centaur territory, but only just, so they're not visible from the grounds.
She leads them through the dark. Through—
Tingling—
"Nox," she whispers, pulling Ginny against a tree.
Magic. She'd felt…where is…who is…It feels familiar, but she doesn't quite recognise it.
Footsteps. Wandlight.
Oh.
…Tonks?
What is she doing here?
Hermione slowly pulls Ginny along after her, just on the edge of the wandlight so they don't trip over any stray roots.
She can't believe…Oh she misses Tonks! She'd forgotten how much. Seeing her again is— Maybe Tonks will survive in this world. It feels like…well almost everyone died because of Bellatrix. If she's changed, then surely Tonks could survive. And Sirius. Anything could happen!
"Ah!" Tonks stumbles. Falls over a log and into a pile of leaves. "Bloody— oh bollocking—"
Ginny bursts out laughing. Oh no. Hermione hopes the muffiliato is strong enough to—
"Expelliarmus! Homenum revelio!" Tonks shouts, getting to her feet. Tonks.
Hermione manages to cling onto her wand. Ginny doesn't.
Tonks catches Ginny's wand, and dusts some leaves and twigs off of herself with a sigh as the concealment charm disappears. "Alright. C'mon, then. What years are you in and what are your— Hermione Granger? You're a champion. You really shouldn't be here."
Hermione smiles. "Neither should you, right? You're not a professor…Auror Tonks."
Tonks' eyes narrow and her hair darkens. "Have we met?"
Hermione walks closer, pulling Ginny with her and unable to keep the wide smile off of her face. "No. But I've heard of you. Professor Moody trained you. And you're a metamorphagus. You're a great auror."
Tonks scratches the top of her head awkwardly. "Huh. Ain't had no-one recognise me before. Didn't know I had a reputation. Did…Mad-Eye talk about me? Weird."
Then she brings her hand down, wagging her finger at them sternly. "But you still ain't supposed to be here. It's the Forbidden Forest. It's in the name."
Hermione taps her lip with her wand. "So…you'll tell a professor that we're here? In the Forbidden Forest? And that you were here because..?"
Tonks barks out a laugh. "You're a clever one, ain't you? But that ain't gonna work. I'm an auror. I've got permission to go on patrol and investigate suspicious activities."
"You'd better get investigating, then," Hermione says. "We'll find our way back to the castle by ourselves."
Hermione doesn't move though. Just stands there. Winks at Ginny, who still looks a bit nervous at being caught.
Tonks folds her arms at them. Looks behind them, back through the trees.
And then huffs. Hands Ginny back her wand. "Too dangerous. You'll have to stick with me now. So…c'mon then, I guess. And keep those concealment charms on, and your gobs shut."
And she whacks them both on the head with her wand, concealment charms falling back into place.
"Kingsley will bloody murder me…" Tonks mutters to herself. Starts walking again.
Hermione squeezes Ginny's arm and speeds up to walk together. Now what is Tonks up to? Because aurors are not supposed to interfere at Hogwarts, no matter what she says.
For a while they walk in silence though. Tonks did say not to talk. Hermione shouldn't push her luck too much.
That's what Bellatrix said. That she pushes her luck.
Most people don't notice that about Hermione. They call her sensible. Too cautious. It's quite strange that Bellatrix somehow—
"Wait…I think I know you too," Ginny suddenly murmurs. "You…did you used to have longer hair? Brown hair?"
Tonks laughs. Lengthens her hair until it's halfway down her back. And dark brown. "Depends on the day. Like this?" She shortens it to her shoulders, makes it mousey and curly. "Or like this?"
"Have you ever been to Ottery St Catchpole?" Ginny asks.
Tonks stops.
Her hair shortens, and she turns to look in their direction.
Then her eyes widen. "Red hair. Oh shit! I mean— Let's go back. I should have taken you back. We can—"
"Tonks!" a voice shouts from through the trees.
And someone jogs towards them, not quite visible behind a bright lumos.
But that voice is very familiar. Hermione can't believe their luck.
Charlie.
Charlie barrels into Tonks and wraps her in a bear hug. "It's so good to see you! How are you? You alright? How's—"
"Oh!" Ginny shouts. "That's how I know you!"
Charlie pauses.
Steps back from Tonks. Looks in their direction.
Smiles. "Hi Gin. And Hermione. See you've met Tonks then."
Hermione cancels the concealment charms. Well. Look at this. Tonks and Charlie?
Tonks leans down to look at Ginny properly. "Wotcha. We've already met, haven't we? When you was like…four? How old are you now?"
Ginny nods. "Thirteen. You visited over the summer holidays. You were…Charlie's girlfriend."
Charlie laughs easily. "Yeah, that was a weird summer, wasn't it? Mum loved you."
Tonks grins, standing up straight. Starts walking along next to him. "And then hated me when we broke up. Kept calling me Nymphadora."
They all start moving deeper into the forest, where Charlie had come from.
"She didn't hate you," Charlie sighs. "Not really. But yeah. Sorry about that. I tried to tell her that—"
Tonks pats him on the back. "You were fourteen. We both were. Don't worry about it. Besides, weren't your fault or nothing."
"Why did you break up?" Ginny asks.
Hermione elbows her. "Ginny! Leave them alone, you can't ask people that!"
Tonks looks at Charlie. He looks ahead. Leads them to the left a bit and…
They're nearing the edge of the trees. How strange. So they're not going deeper.
Charlie sighs again. Moves closer to Ginny and hugs her sideways, arm around her shoulders. "I was going out with Tonks when I was fourteen. She was my best friend. Funny, and smart, and listened when I was going on and on about dragons like I always do. But…that's it, you see. I…kind of realised after a while that I was more interested in dragons than girls. I told Mum. Said I never wanted to get married, settle down. That I wasn't interested in all that. Mum said I'd change my mind once I was older." He laughs softly. "Hasn't happened yet though."
Oh.
Ginny hugs him back. "Yeah. Mum's probably wrong about that then. So…can we see the dragons now?"
He lets out a breath. "Right. Right, the— wait. How did you know about—"
"We already know," Hermione says. "It's…well it's obvious, isn't it? Why else would you be here?"
Charlie stops and turns to Tonks. Glances at Hermione and frowns. "What do you think? They really shouldn't be here. I mean…Hermione really isn't allowed to be here."
Tonks leans back against a tree. "No. But, if she already knows, then it ain't our fault. Plus, you know, she's underage. Reckon people will be more pissed if she dies."
Charlie seems to consider this.
"Please, Charlie," Ginny says. "She's my friend, and…we need your help. I don't want her to get hurt."
Oh, Ginny.
Hermione pulls her into a hug. Strokes her hair. She's so small. "I'll be fine. I'll be okay. Don't worry about me."
"I didn't know you were going to put your name in," Ginny whispers. "I should have told you my plan. So you knew Harry was safe. You didn't have to enter."
Hermione pulls back. Looks at Ginny sternly. "It was my choice. And it's fine. I can do this. Really. I have lots of options that I could use. Sleeping charm. Conjunctivitus hex. Transfigure a rock into a horse to distract it, or iron chains to—"
"Blimey, look at you, little Miss Clever Clogs," Tonks says, eyebrows raising. "Maybe the goblet was right, and you don't need our help."
Hermione shakes her head. Looks at Charlie pleadingly. "I do. I really do. I want to do this right. I don't want to hurt the dragons, or harm their eggs. It's cruel. Magical creatures have rights too."
Charlie just stares at her.
Then slowly reaches out and taps his wand on her head. Concealment charm. Charlie.
"Come along, then," he says softly. "There's a spot we can sit and watch, away from the others. I'll explain…have you practiced what I talked about?"
Hermione nods. Then remembers he can't see her. "Yes. I can feel it. With people I know."
Ginny and Tonks frowns at them in confusion, but Charlie just leads them off a bit more to the right. "Good. That's good. I'll point out the dragons to you. You can sit and…feel them. I'll teach you how to let them feel you."
"Feel a dragon?" Ginny whispers. "Think I'll leave that to you lot."
Tonks laughs. "Same. Maybe I will take you back to the castle, Gin. Reckon running into Filch won't be as bad as burning alive. I'd still avoid McGonagall, mind you. If she found out I took her lions into the forest…" She shudders. "On second thought, take me to the dragons."
Hermione smiles. Shivers as Tonks casts a warming charm. Tonks. Tonks. She's back. And making jokes.
The clearing comes into view.
Right. Focus, Hermione. Feel…
Feel…
Oh. It feels…
A blast of flames lights up the treeline. Charlie leads them around the edge, voices and shouts bouncing off of the trees.
He holds a finger to his lips. "Voices carry in the woods," he whispers.
And walks them further around. To a fallen tree. Walks around and sits behind it, ushering them over. "There. Can you see?" he breathes out gently.
Hermione follows his gaze. Towards the glowing flames. The silhouettes of people holding ropes, and raising wands, and…
Towering dragons. Half hidden by the trees, but stood tall on their hind legs. Shrieking roars come towards them now, piercing the air.
"They've sensed us," Charlie says. "Dragons are territorial. They know the feel of every plant and creature around them. They feel it. It's a part of them. They…well they really shouldn't be here," he whispers sadly. "They should be home. Where they belong. Can you feel it? Their discomfort? The…wrongness?"
Hermione tries. Tries to feel it. But…well she can see the dragons are upset, or angry. And she can feel their…aura of magic. It's a bit like Hogwarts. An ancient, old, strength. Safety and threat. Power.
But no. She can't feel their emotions, or even single them out individually.
Ginny is shaking her head in confusion, and Tonks…
Has metamorphed scales over her face. Her pupils are slitted. Hermione isn't sure if she's deliberately turning into a dragon, or if she's trying too hard to connect with them.
"I'm not sssure," Tonks hisses. "There's sssomething. Oh."
Did she morph her mouth too? Ha!
Charlie ruffles Tonks' hair with a grin. "You're doing it again. It's supposed to be mental. Not physical, puff-brain."
Puff-brain?
Tonks launches herself at Charlie and pushes him down into the muddy grass, dragon skin disappearing and shoulders broadening, arms more muscular. "Mental and physical is connected, Einstein. Hello? Have you never met me!"
Oh.
Oh wait.
"Magic is at least fifty percent mental…" Hermione mutters to herself. "Physical and mental are connected. You choose the words you want…and feel…"
Magic is mental. You have to believe in what you're doing. But you also have to do it right. Have the right words, and guidance, and a history of…
She welcomes the feeling of the dragons. Remembers watching them. The Welsh Green. The Swedish Short Snout. Chinese Fireball. Hungarian Horntail.
Looks out over the log at the treeline. Tries to spot the different coloured scales. Tries to pinpoint…
She cancels the concealment charm on herself. No hiding. No tricks. Hermione. Her magic. She can feel it. And she knows what Ginny feels like. What Tonks feels like. What Charlie feels like.
Harmony, she thinks. Tries to feel it. Calm. Friendship. Peace. Aid.
What spells do that?
Charms, perhaps. Or a calming draught.
She doesn't want the dragons to think she'll drug them though.
She points her wand towards the clearing, inches closer, leaning over the log.
"Hermione…what are you doing?" Charlie says warily, sitting up as Tonks moves back.
Hermione takes a calming breath. "Protego totus corpus. Protego mentes. Protego horribilis," she whispers gently.
Fire continues to light up the night, roars shaking the air. What about…a cheering charm?
She whispers the incantation. Warmly.
"That…won't work, Hermione," Charlie says, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Their scales are spell repellent. Almost no spells affect them."
Hermione shakes her head. Intent. She doesn't need it to work. She just needs to show her intent. "Do they have names? Names are important. Have you named them?"
Charlie shuffles closer and points over her shoulder. "Ah, okay. So the green one is a Welsh Green—"
"No," Hermione interrupts him. "Their names. Have you given them names? Even nicknames? In your head?"
Ginny snorts. "What? Like Fluffy and Norbert?"
Hermione turns to raise an eyebrow at her. "Exactly. Or Aragog. Creatures that everyone is terrified of, but Hagrid managed to befriend. Friends of Hagrid. If an acromantula can have a friend, recognise a friendly face, then so can a dragon," she says firmly.
Then turns her gaze on Charlie.
He smiles. "I've always thought that too. And I've tried. I really have. And sometimes…sometimes I swear they know me. But they still attack. It won't stop them, Hermione. Even if they know who you are."
Oh.
Hermione slumps back to sit in the grass. She'd thought maybe…
But no. Dragons have never been domesticated. Never trained. Only taught through pain and fear. Only ridden once, when she'd jumped onto that poor dragon's back and broken out of Gringotts, soaring free into the sky.
Freedom. She can still remember that freedom. That relief and…terror. How her muscles ached with clinging on. How exposed she'd felt in Bellatrix's dress.
And a shivering vibration thrums through her. As if from the earth. From the forest, and the heat of the fire, and the night air.
It feels like flying. The thrill of flying.
Silent.
Everything is silent.
"They've stopped," Ginny whispers.
Darkness falls around them. The moon the only light. No flames.
And then the shouts return. Roars and shrieks. The crash of rocking cages.
But for a second…
There'd been peace.
Hermione and Ginny manage to get back to the Common Room five minutes before curfew, without running into Filch or McGonagall. Which doesn't make a difference, because they said goodbye to Tonks at the gate before she headed into Hogsmeade with Charlie. Hermione still finds it…
Part of her is sad. An ache in her chest for the Tonks in her time.
Was her Tonks ever friends with Charlie? Did they date when they were younger? Did Tonks come to see him in the forest?
She doesn't know. She never had the chance to know that about Tonks.
Alive. She's still alive.
Ginny yawns, leaning against her on the sofa, eyes closed. "What's the time now?"
Hermione casts a tempus, still staring into the crackling fire. "Gone midnight. You can go to bed if you want. I'll tell you what Sirius says tomorrow."
Ginny shakes her head. "Not long now. I'm just glad I'm not in the dungeons. It's freezing down there at nighttime."
Now Hermione turns to look at her. "What have you been up to in the dungeons at night?"
Ginny opens her eyes. Reaches behind Hermione's ear and pulls out a sickle. "Saving the Saviour. Duh."
The Saviour…
Hermione smiles. "Harry should be back soon. Snape can't keep them forever. It's…nice, isn't it? Seeing Harry so relaxed. No dementors this year."
Ginny closes her eyes again. "He's a lot happier. And it's good he has Sirius now. Even if he's on the run. He's still like…someone he can write to. Mum says Harry can always write to her if he has any problems. But—" She laughs. "Can you imagine it? Harry writing to Mum? She'd just tell him to eat more and get to bed on time. Ask if he's keeping his room tidy. Don't think she'd be much help with this. She doesn't get it. Treats us like kids."
You are kids, Hermione thinks.
Doesn't say it aloud.
"I think most mums are like that. I got sent a toothbrush a couple of weeks ago," Hermione smiles instead.
Doesn't admit that it almost made her tear up. That little letter with a stamp on, making sure she was okay and hadn't eaten too many sweets over Halloween.
Ginny hums an agreement. Yawns again. "Tonks was nice, wasn't she? I'd forgotten all about her. She was friends with Charlie all through school, but I was only eight when he left for Romania. I recognised her voice though. And something about her. She's fun. Warm."
Hermione leans into Ginny a bit more, sinking lower in the sofa. "I never knew that. I know Tonks though. We meet her next year, in my time."
Ginny sits up with a laugh. "You know everyone! Quidditch stars, aurors, Veela, even Death Eaters! Next you'll be telling me you've met the Wyrd Sisters!"
Hermione grins. "I didn't tell you? Who do you think is the band for the Yule Ball?"
Ginny shoves her. "You're lying! Why would you…really? You're not joking? They're really—"
Hermione keeps nodding.
Ginny grabs a cushion and screams into it. "Okay, now I have to go to the Ball! You need a date. Why don't you take me?"
Hermione smiles. "I'd love to. If no-one else asks you…"
Ginny stills. Puts the cushion down.
Tucks some hair behind her ear. "Someone asks me? Who?" she asks quietly.
Hermione stands up and moves closer to the fire. It's nearing one o'clock in the morning. "I'll leave it as a surprise. I know who asked you last time, but it might not be the same. But…if it gets close, and you don't have a date, we'll go as friends."
Ginny comes to sit next to her. "Deal. But you should get a real date if you can. You deserve to have fun with someone."
Hermione looks away into the flames again. Shrugs. "I can't really. It's too complicated. Either I'm too old, and it's creepy, or I'll be with someone older who thinks I'm fifteen. Either way, that's an awkward opening dance."
"I still think you should go with Fleur," Ginny whispers. "She's so hot. I would, if she didn't keep calling me a little girl and saying I could be friends with her eight-year-old sister."
Hermione smiles. Yes, Ginny's flirting hadn't exactly gone to plan with any of the Beauxbatons witches. Thirteen is just too young to be taken seriously.
The portrait hole creeks open.
"Hermione?" Harry whispers.
She waves him over. "Just us. Everyone else is in bed," she whispers back.
Harry and Ron tiptoe over. "Can't believe how long Snape kept us," Ron complains. "Mincing flobberworms and plucking lacewing flies. Without gloves.
"Yeah, you stink," Ginny's says bluntly, nose wrinkling. "Have you not even washed your hands? Ugh, it's like rotting—"
"No time," Harry whispers, edging closer to the fire. "Sirius will be here any minute."
Ginny catches Hermione's eye. Smiles at his eagerness.
Hermione smiles back. Checks the time. "Two minutes."
Ron sniffs his hands, grimaces, and then casts a scourgify at them. "Ow! Shit, that hurt."
Hermione sighs. "Don't use that on skin. Objects only."
He nods to himself.
They wait.
"So did you kiss Fleur?" Harry asks with a sly smile.
"No," Hermione says calmly. "We stayed for a drink and then went to find out about the dragons from Charlie. We left the Beauxbatons at the tavern."
"You saw Charlie?" Ron asks excitedly. "How is he? What did he tell you? Bet he knew loads about—"
He's interrupted as a head appears in the flames.
"Sirius!" Harry grins, face lighting up. "I wasn't sure— Are you okay? You haven't been spotted, or—"
Sirius smiles back, but not as widely. Cautiously, as he looks behind him and around at them all. "I'm very well, Harry, but I don't have much time. I've broken into a house to borrow a floo. But…what about you? Are you alright?"
His voice is still rough and croaky from Azkaban. But he doesn't look too gaunt. Not worryingly unhealthy, so that's a relief. And he looks how he should. How she remembers.
Harry pauses before answering.
Leans closer. "I'm fine. I really am. But it was close. It— well it all started when we were at the Quidditch World Cup. Hermione saw someone steal my wand. They were invisible, and sat with Mrs Malfoy, she— she's your cousin, isn't she?"
Sirius slowly nods, frowning deeply now.
"Well, Hermione followed her," Harry continues. "And she saw who it was. It was Bellatrix. Hermione saw Bellatrix obliviate Mrs Malfoy, and now we know that Bellatrix is at Hogwarts, disguised as Mad-Eye Moody using polyjuice potion, and she tried to put my name in the goblet, but Ginny tricked her into—"
"Hang on a moment, Harry," Sirius laughs in shaky shock. "Just one— I'm struggling with…Bellatrix is alive? And she…she's the one who obliviated Narcissa?"
He says both of their names hesitantly. As if they're uncomfortable in his mouth.
Should Harry really be telling him all this? She has no idea what Sirius' reaction will be…
Harry nods firmly without pause, not even questioning it. "Yes. She's alive. And she's here in the castle. We saw her name on the Marauders' Map. Bellatrix Black."
Sirius runs a hand over his mouth. "That…is…"
He drifts off.
Then takes a deep breath. "So she was trying to put your name in the goblet. She must have wanted you to…to die in the tasks. It's the only…it's…I don't understand how Narcissa could have…"
Hermione clears her throat. She just too impatient. "Could you tell us about Bellatrix? Only— well we heard that she was a Death Eater. That she was cruel, and— and we know what she did to the Longbottoms. But— well she's different here. It could be acting, but she's oddly…calm. Rational. She…she's quite nice to me, actually. Sometimes. I'm a muggleborn. That's— it's strange, don't you think?"
There's a long pause whilst Sirius stares at her.
Then he nods. "She…I know what you mean. I've also been trying to…"
He looks back at Harry. Smiles grimly. "My cousins have always been bloodpurists. My whole family were. Prejudiced, elitist. Convinced that being Blacks made us practically royalty. Toujours Pur, that's the Black family motto. Always pure. Well, I very quickly decided that I didn't want to be like them. Like my parents, or my elder cousin, Bellatrix. Narcissa was just as arrogant and deluded, but she was younger. The same age as me. More spoilt than anything too malicious. Just rather annoying and stuck up.
"Sounds like Draco," Ron mutters.
Sirius smiles. "Yes. Precisely. From what little I saw of Draco last year, he's exactly like his mother. Although…perhaps not as cunning as Cissy was. Is. I forget that…"
He shakes his head. "Anyway. Narcissa was one thing, Bellatrix…had joined the Death Eaters by the time I was in second year. She was eighteen. And she…terrified me."
He looks away uncomfortably. "I never admitted it. Especially not to her. Never showed fear. But other than…my parents, and my aunts and uncles…she was what I feared. What I hated."
"So…she is bad," Harry whispers. Then nods. "She's a Death Eater. She's tortured people. Killed people. She's evil."
Sirius sighs. "It's not that simple. As Hermione pointed out, something…must have happened. She changed."
He rubs at his forehead. "Twice, actually. Looking back on our childhood…she really wasn't that bad. Not until she was fifteen or so and got into…well, she called it politics. Before that, she was relatively…normal."
He laughs. "Normal for her. For a Black. None of us were exactly normal. Being told all your life that you're above everyone else creates…monstrous egos that are hard to temper. All of us struggled with it, even myself. I can admit that now. We were all exceedingly arrogant. Embarrassingly so."
He cringes at himself, lost in memory.
Then tilts his head to the side. Nods slowly. "Except…maybe Andromeda. She was my favourite cousin. Always managed to calm Bella down when she got into one of her moods. Made it funny. Made it ridiculous. Our whole lives were…ridiculous. Dromeda helped me see that. I was amazed when she ran away. She married a muggleborn. Ted Tonks. And just…left. That's what made me realise I could leave it all behind too."
He drifts off into thought again, staring blankly across the room.
Harry clears his throat. "You ran away?"
Sirius blinks back into focus. Looks at Harry fondly. "I stayed with your Dad. With the Potters. I was always welcome at the Potters, even once I was seventeen and got a place of my own with the money my Uncle Alphard left me. Another good one in the bunch. My parents hated him for it."
Harry nods. "So you didn't have to see your cousins after that. It's the same as me and Dudley. You were just stuck with them."
Sirius laughs hoarsely. "Yes, I'm not exactly welcome at the Malfoys' for tea. I was quite glad to be rid of them. As I say, when we were young children, we could almost manage to get along, but people change, and by the time—"
He suddenly freezes. Then looks behind him. "I have to go," he whispers harshly. "But just— You'll be safe so long as you're at Hogwarts, but I need to tell you more. Hermione is right. Bellatrix changed again. I thought I'd imagined it, that it was just the madness, but when I was in Azkaban with her, she spoke to me. Often. She was insistent. She told me that—"
He turns around again. Flickers. "I really have to go. I'll contact you again soon. Goodbye, Harry."
And he's gone.
Well—
That—
Damn it!
Hermione falls onto her back on the carpet with a groan. "Told him what?! We already knew the other stuff! He could have gotten to the point a little faster. Now we still don't know anything!"
"We…know she's into politics?" Ron says cautiously.
Hermione sits back up. Looks at them all.
Really?
"Politics is Voldemort, Ron. That's what the Death Eaters are. Radicalists who wanted to see a change in the Ministry's attitude to muggleborns. They want to take over the Ministry, and be in power. Politically. It's not just about randomly killing people they don't like."
"Except me," Harry says. "I'm a pureblood, and they still want to kill me."
Hermione sighs. "Yes. Because your parents fought against them. Opposed them. Plus, they don't think you count as pure enough as your mum was a muggleborn."
Harry frowns. "Voldemort's Dad was a muggle."
"Yeah, but no-one knows that," Ginny says quietly. "That's why he changed his name. He didn't like being called Riddle. Or Tom. He wanted to change it as soon as he got to Hogwarts, but then his name was called out at the Sorting Ceremony."
Oh.
Ginny hugs her knees to her chest.
Harry puts a hand on her shoulder. Squeezes gently. Ginny smiles gratefully.
Hermione stands up. "Let's all get some sleep. As Sirius said, we're safe here. We can all see each other at breakfast. We have all day tomorrow. It's just a normal Sunday."
Ginny gets up too and puts an arm around her. "Normal apart from your detention with Bellatrix. You should be careful. Even if she's being nice to you, you shouldn't trust her."
Hermione starts walking them up the stairs, a guilty twist in her stomach. "I know don't worry. We'll figure out what she's up to. She's not fooling us," she says firmly.
As firmly as she can. Tries to believe herself, even as her brain fights against her. Logically…
Logically what? Bellatrix has changed. Sirius admitted it. He believes Hermione. He's noticed what she noticed. Something about Bellatrix is different.
She'd talked to him in Azkaban.
And now Sirius thinks they're safe at Hogwarts.