Chapter 14: XIVChapter TextHermione woke up on Christmas morning to the sound of screaming.
Loud, high pitched, distorted screaming. It was words, that much she was sure, but too fast and too shrill for Hermione to make it out from the bedroom and whatever location the screaming was happening in.
And it was definitely Bellatrix. While Andromeda was not above screaming, this sort of teeth clenching irrational ruckus would not come from her. Narcissa was much too mighty to reduce herself to such noises, so it would only be Bellatrix. But who was she screaming at? Andromeda was a possibility, Narcissa not likely, but... but they were not the only ones in the house. It was that thought that had her kicking the covers aside and standing from the bed, even as her head ached from crying all night and seeing Bellatrix right now was the last thing on this Earth she wanted.
Hermione didn't think she had ever cried that hard in her life than she did last night. Andromeda hadn't questioned her, had given her a moment after storming into their shared room and throwing herself onto the bed before she came to Hermione's side and sat on the bed. For over an hour. Never saying a word. Just... sitting there.
It had worked to comfort Hermione slightly, but it would do nothing to have her mind stop repeating the words Bellatrix had yelled at her last night. Nothing would stop those words from rotating around and around and around all night, until she had finally cried herself to sleep.
And now, Hermione slowly walked down the stairs, the more she moved the more conscious she became and was able to understand the words being yelled. She had been correct it was Bellatrix doing the screaming, but another voice occasionally rose to be overheard, this one male and only belonging to one person.
Hermione was still rubbing sleep from her eyes when she walked into the living room, and didn't attempt to hold back the sigh at the sight waiting for her. Andromeda and Narcissa were both seated on the couch, both watching as Bellatrix and Moody, standing in the center of the room, yelled at one another.
"I didn't make any sort of promises to you or to Dumbledore!" Bellatrix yelled, her voice close to hoarse from the shrill way she had been screaming for some time now. "If you have an issue with that, take it up with the bitch upstairs!"
The bitch upstairs, who was now leaning against the archway into the living room, still unnoticed by them all save Moody.
What a fun Christmas morning.
Not that she was feeling very festive. She hadn't been feeling festive all break, now that she thought about it. She had credited it to staying in Black Manor, where the was not a single indication Christmas was coming anywhere in the house, even during Bellatrix's sham of a birthday party. Even now, out of that stifling atmosphere and into a relatively safe house, there was not a hint of holidays. She expected nothing less from Alastor Moody, but still, it made her think of what she would be doing today had she been with her friends.
Molly would have knitted them all sweaters that the boys would have joked about but lovingly wore, she would have gushed over whatever Harry got Ginny with the girl, and would have helped Molly make breakfast after the stampede that was the boys rushing to open gifts had finished. Arthur would have sat and happily watched them all, and would have exchanged loving kisses with his wife the entire time.
It was May in their time, so Christmas was still half a year away. Though Hermione did succeed in getting Bellatrix to come to the Order's headquarters, she was still furious enough to do something stupid. What if she went back on her word and went back to their father and Voldemort. If Hermione did end up messing this up more than she already had, who of her friends would survive to see the next Christmas? Which initial would Molly not be stitching this year?
"I have no interest in what Granger has to say. I have been told to get information from you, you insolent brat," Moody yelled back, drawing Hermione from her thoughts and worries. "As I was saying, when I return tonight, you and I are going to discuss Voldemort's plans."
"Over my dead body," Bellatrix scoffed, crossing her arms and cocking her head in that way that never ceased to enrage Hermione.
Hermione didn't have the energy to intervene, not after last night, so she just leaned further against the wall and watched Moody deal with the storm that was a stubborn Bellatrix Black.
"Lives are at stake, Black, more than you can wrap your head around. You would be so willing to let them all die for your own selfish, childish reasonings? That is not acceptable. Dumbledore gave me a job, and I will finish it. As I was saying. When I return tonight, we are continuing this conversation." With that, Moody walked past Hermione without so much as a hello, grabbed his coat, and stormed out the front door.
Bellatrix screamed, "No!" at his retreating back, and only became more furious at the door closing as his answer coupled with the sight of Hermione. "Here for round two, Granger?"
It felt slightly surreal to hear her actual last name coming from Bellatrix's mouth, but the hatred that laced the words did not indicate it was a step in the right direction. Hermione refused to answer, refused to give Bellatrix the benefit of seeing her upset like she had the night before. Her silence just had the added effect of pissing off the girl more, as she said nothing else and stomped up the stairs, away from them all. A moment later, the sound of the door slamming rattled them.
After more than a minute of the three of them left in uncomfortable silence, Andromeda said, "I'm hungry," throwing her head back against the cushioned backrest of the couch and staring up at the popcorn ceiling.
"So am I," Narcissa added, and it made Hermione realize none of them had eaten in sometime now. She hadn't eaten anything at the party, nor had she seen any of them eat either. When was the last time they had food? It had to be lunch yesterday, but that was a rushed and uncomfortable affair with the girls' parents that none of them enjoyed.
Hermione pushed herself from the wall, deciding right then and there she would not let Bellatrix ruin such an important holiday. She would not let any of them see her weak any longer. "Let's make something then. Let's do a Christmas breakfast." Memories of Molly's food were still fresh in her mind, and though she knew she'd never be able to do anything as tasty, it was better than nothing. "Come on." She didn't bother looking towards the stairs where Bellatrix had stomped up moments prior, instead walking into the kitchen to see what their options were.
Evidently very bleak, as Hermione opened cabinets that held only the bare minimum. The fridge was much the same, though there were copious amounts of alcohol above it, curtesy of Moody, she was sure. But there was eggs, milk, bread, and some fruit. It would be a pitiful Christmas breakfast, but it was still better than nothing. She had just finished pulling everything out when Narcissa and Andromeda joined, watching her movements.
"We don't know how to make breakfast," Andromeda confessed, moving to stand beside Hermione and grab an egg, but did nothing more. "Show us?"
Hermione agreed, thankful for the slight sense of normalcy between her and Andromeda and even Narcissa, as they all slowly cracked eggs into a bowl. More shells ended up in the bowl than even when Ron would help with breakfast, and every few seconds they were having to stop so Hermione could fish them out with a fork. Narcissa added what was definitely too much salt, and so Andromeda decided to counteract that by adding even more pepper, and Hermione had to stop them both before they reached for the milk. They ended up with an egg mixture that probably was slightly crunchy, and what had to be the saltiest in existence, but Andromeda was laughing, and smiled at Hermione, and even Narcissa seemed to be enjoying herself.
"So, just, pour it into the pan and stir it around until they look like scrambled eggs," Hermione explained as Narcissa did as instructed, pouring the batter into the hot pan too quickly and spilling some in the process. "That's okay!" Hermione added quickly. "Now just stir it. They only take a few minutes to cook."
Narcissa did as instructed, carefully moving the batter around as it began to solidify, and then equally divided the pile onto three plates Andromeda had gathered. The youngest girl's movements were meticulous as she filled the plates, and the three of them then went to the table to eat. It was quiet, but some of that tension between the three of them slipped away, minute by minute.
Bellatrix never once came down.
"Hey," Andromeda said as she sat down beside Hermione at the kitchen table. The older girl had claimed the space to finish up her couple of remaining assignments, and had spent the last hour or so undisturbed as she wrote. She had no idea what the others were getting up to, though the lack of arguing hinted to Bellatrix still sleeping. "Is that for Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
"Yeah, I'm nearly finished. This was the longest essay I had to do over the holidays. How are your assignments coming?" Hermione asked, mostly distracted by the paper before her, but still giving enough attention to her friend.
"Just about done too," came Andromeda quick response before she firmly sat a small box before Hermione, who stared at the bright gold and red paper covering it all, along with the emerald green bow stuck in the middle.
Hermione picked up the little box, finding it very light and made no noise when she shook it. "What's this?"
"A Christmas gift, genius. Open it."
Only hesitating slightly, Hermione careful took off the bow and pulled off the corners of the paper where it was taped. Ignoring Andromeda's mocking snort at her careful actions, she lifted the white lid, found what was obviously a black jewelry box, and opened at as well. And let out a small gasp at what she found on the cushion inside.
It was a golden lion on a slim chain, the mane made up of tiny, twinkling diamonds.
"Andromeda-"
"I found it weeks ago, and something about it made me think of you. Makes sense that it would, since you're a Gryffindor and all," the girl said, shrugging her shoulders easily as she smiled at Hermione.
Last night, when Hermione had filled Narcissa and Andromeda in on her true purpose for being here, she had told them she was actually in Gryffindor during one of her rambling sentences when she was trying to fill the silence. Now, she stared at the necklace and had to bite her lip to keep the tears from forming.
"Ack, don't do that again," Andromeda laughed, motioning for Hermione to turn around so she could help her clasp it around her neck. "Listen, Hermione... I know last night Cissy and I's reactions might not have been as... warm as you were hoping but-"
"I understand, Andromeda, I promise," Hermione said quietly, fingering the small lion now securely against her chest as she moved back to look at Andromeda. "I lied to you all for so long, it's perfectly understandable that you'd be angry or-"
Andromeda cut her off quickly, that easy smile still in place. "You did lie, and last night it had me thinking about a lot of things, but I get why you did what you did. You come from a world that is so much more dangerous than anything we could understand right now, and you didn't know who of us you could trust."
Hermione's world was dangerous, and it was more than any of them could understand right now, but it wouldn't be that way for long. The Death Eaters attacking Hogsmeade weeks ago was only the beginning of an eleven year war, one that would put the Wizarding World in terror and cost so many lives.
"And if what you said about Bella is true then... I'm pretty sure Cissy and I should be thanking you for trying to save our sister, even if you didn't come back here to do it for us. And- I am glad you did come here, because you're one of the best friends I could have asked for, Hermione."
She was going to cry, she was definitely going to cry now. Andromeda noticed it, and lightly shoved her shoulder, making her laugh instead. "Thank you, Andy," she finally mumbled, rubbing one eye slowly. "For the gift, it's really beautiful. I-I love it. And for saying what you did. It means a lot."
"For what it's worth, Bella will come around too. It'll probably take a while, but... she's stubborn, and won't admit it but this hurt her. So, she's going to be a bitch for a while, but don't let it get to you. She's a bitch to everyone she cares about."
Hurt, Hermione could understand. She would never try to argue that what she did was by any means morally correct, and Bellatrix and Narcissa and Andromeda had every right to be upset and hurt with her. What they did not have a right to be was downright combative and purposefully hurtful.
"Thank you, Andy," she repeated instead, having no interest in talking about or thinking about Bellatrix any more. Andromeda, understanding this, nodded and left her alone in the kitchen once more.
Auror work seemingly took no breaks, as even on Christmas Day Moody was gone until well past dinner, which was a meal that consisted of more peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. This, Bellatrix did come down for, though she was perhaps more hostile than anytime Hermione had seen before, to the point that even Narcissa was telling her to shut up or leave. Bellatrix chose the latter, angrily stomping back upstairs without bothering to finish her sandwich.
When Moody did return, standing at the base of the stairs and yelling for Bellatrix to come down, Hermione knew this conversation would not be going well for any of them.
She had been in the living room with Andromeda and Narcissa, the three of them entertaining themselves by listening to the radio. There was not a single interesting thing going on in their world right now, which, given how dark a turn things would soon take, Hermione was thankful for, even if she was bored out of her mind listening to the reporter drone on and on about a new legislation regarding importing and exporting magical goods.
It was close to ten when the door clicked open and Moody entered, and then they all waited with baited breath to hear how Bellatrix would respond to being told to come downstairs. In what had to be the most un-Bellatrix-like way, she came down immediately, looked at none of them, and threw herself down onto the couch, stiff backed and crossed arms, glaring at the radio as if just thinking about it hard enough would make it combust.
"Are we able to skip the pleasantries and get right to business?" Moody asked when he came into the living room, sitting opposite Bellatrix and paying the others in the room no mind.
Bellatrix gave him a smile that was indicator enough about her feelings of cooperation.
"We're on a time crunch, see, and I've been given orders. I'm not a fan of not fulfilling my orders." There was a weariness to Moody right now, a sort of exhaustion in his shoulders as he sat on the couch that told Hermione whatever Auror work he had spent all Christmas doing had not been easy, and now he was here, preparing to once more argue with Bellatrix.
"You are on a time crunch," Bellatrix said scathingly, looking at her nails as a sign of dismissal. "The only time crunch I am on is the one where this horrid holiday break ends and I can leave all of this behind to return to Hogwarts."
"And then what? You have months until you graduate, where will you go?" Moody challenged, his face getting slightly red with fury the longer Bellatrix spoke in that tone. "You made a decision Christmas Eve that is not going to go away any time soon, girl, do you expect to be able to return to Black Manor, with your father with open arms?"
"I have no interest in returning to Black Manor," Bellatrix admitted, causing Hermione to raise her eyebrows in surprise. A part of Hermione had feared the girl, for whatever reason or another, would have resented leaving her family like that, would have resented turning her back on everything she had ever known, just to be stuck in a muggle home with a girl she currently could not stand. It was more than a little relieving to hear Bellatrix was not inclined to go running back to her parents and begging for forgiveness, even if Bellatrix had never begged for anything before.
Moody sighed at Bellatrix's blatant tone of disinterest. "Do you know what it is I do?" Perhaps he finally decided getting into an argument with her would lead him absolutely no where. Hermione could have told him that.
"Unless I've received a concussion I had no idea about, I am aware you are an Auror," Bellatrix replied dryly, scowling at the man with her arms crossed.
Andromeda choked on a cough that was without a doubt a hidden laugh, but wisely refrained from any sort of commentary.
"I hunt dark wizards, yes. Men and women who have decided they no longer wish to follow the Ministry's rules, or who have decided they want more power than they already have, and will stop at nothing to get it."
"Everyone is more than aware of the illustrious Aurors, Moody. The Ministry's pride and joy, hm?"
"Then you know what happens to those dark wizards when we catch them. And we will catch them. Every last one of them. For most of them, they surrender after a bit of struggle. Others... don't, and often times that does lead to them dying in the fight. For the ones we take back to the Ministry, they're sentenced to a life in Azkaban to either wither away and die, or they get a Kiss."
Hermione didn't want to think of the prison, or of the ghastly beasts that worked as guards there. Voldemort would win them over sooner or later, as he had in her time when two attacked Harry in their fifth year. She hated thinking about Dementors, and it seemed Bellatrix wasn't fond of hearing about them either, if the slight bob of her throat was any indication.
But that bravado was firmly in place as the scowl on her face deepened and she said, "Clearly they were not skilled wizards then."
"I have gone to face off against wizards far stronger than you could ever hope to be, and look who walked off to tell the tail," Moody responded tensely, and Hermione had to hold back from shaking her head in disagree. There were very few people who would be able to face Bellatrix and be the one to walk away. She had first hand experience with how skilled the older girl was, something that this Moody would not know of, not yet at least.
This was getting nowhere. Bellatrix would keep him going in circles as she got him more and more riled up, just for her own entertainment. Of that Hermione was certain. "Bella," she said suddenly, causing those beautiful dark eyes to settle on her for the first time since this morning, and she would be lying to say it didn't take her breath away, even if they were twinged with annoyance. "You wanted to keep your sisters safe. This is how you do it. Moody is going to report what you say to others, and whatever names you give him, whatever information you provide, very well could be the difference between an innocent person living and dying."
Bellatrix opened her mouth to most likely send some insulting remark Hermione's way, maybe a comment about Hermione having the audacity to speak to her at all, but Narcissa beat her sister to it, saying something sharp and quick in French that had Bellatrix's eyebrows furrowing and Andromeda laughing.
But the eldest Black shrugged her shoulders, leaned back against the chair and said, "Ask away," as if she was always going to cooperate and didn't need to be scolded by her baby sister to get to this point.
"Narcissa, Andromeda," Moody said suddenly, gaining the youngest two's attention as he looked to them. "Go somewhere else. You two don't need to be a part of this discussion any further."
Hermione remained in the room, and watched as the others had no choice but to listen, looking very furious and put out at being sent away, but she remembered her first time in the Order, how none of the adults wanted to bring any of them into it, and had kept them shoved upstairs in Grimmauld Place while meetings took place in the kitchen. It had enraged Harry, and he argued vehemently to be filled in on information pertaining to him, despite Molly Weasley's protests. So she knew how they felt, but also could now see it from the adults' perspectives, how they wanted to preserve their innocence for as long as possible. Hermione said nothing as they sulked away.
The minute they were gone, Moody pounced. "Names of the people involved."
"You could be interrogating Muddy, you know, she knows names as well."
"If you are trying to goad either one of us into an argument," Moody began slowly, testily, "I am telling you now it will not work. So, you can either stop using that slur right now and answer my questions without running your mouth each time, or you can not. It's up to you on how you want to precede here."
It was very easy indeed to see how Moody would go on to become the top Auror the Ministry had ever seen. He was able to stay level headed, not allowing the enemy to get inside his head and throw him off balance, which was absolutely what Bellatrix was trying to do now, with no such luck. Not to mention the way he could thinly veil a threat, make it seem like the person had a choice to cooperate or not, even though in reality they did not.
It worked well enough, as Bellatrix rolled her eyes and began slowly listing off names of pure-bloods indoctrinated into the cause. There was no hesitation as she said Rodolphus or Rabastan's names, no sense of lingering friendship or loyalty to either of them on her pretty face. The rest of the names Hermione only recognized from articles; a few Rosier's, two Carrow's, a Parkinson, Burke, and Rowle. No Malfoy's, Goyle's, or Crabbe's yet, though Hermione knew when the men came of age Voldemort would get them too. This army was much smaller, though Voldemort's reign of terror was just beginning, and would only continue to grow in size and strength over the next eleven years.
"Locations? Safe houses?"
Bellatrix shrugged. "No idea."
"You've never been to any meetings with him?"
"I have."
A vein in Moody's forehead pulsed. "So where did this meeting take place?"
"I don't know." Bellatrix looked at her nails once more and said, "I was knocked unconscious. When I woke up, I was there. When it was time to leave, well, I was bit too roughed up to really pay attention to where we were."
Hermione started at that, a memory immediately surfacing from the back of her mind of Bellatrix bruises and battered in the common room so late at night. Was that what she was talking about, or had she been beaten another time? Hermione opened her mouth to voice her questions, but the sharp look from Bellatrix kept her silent. For now.
"Is there anything else you know then?"
"I'm sure there is, if I think long and hard about her." A saccharine smile, the tip of her tongue poking through as she could tell she was finally getting under Moody's thick skin.
"Girl-"
Hermione didn't have the energy to listen to any of this anymore, not when she could feel a headache forming, a slight pulsing at her temples. Bellatrix had been helpful, somewhat, in providing names, some of which belonging to Ministry workers, but of course she had to go and make it near impossible to continue the conversation.
As she walked away, the other two too distracted in their renewed bickering, she headed towards the patio door in the kitchen and slipped outside for the first time, trying to ignore the prominent chill in the air.
Dumbledore, Moody, whoever found this safe house, didn't bother spelling the yard to look as nice as the inside, and so it was just a decrepit as the front appeared to muggles. The grass was brown and nearly knee high, the one lone tree in the back corner was thin and dying, and the set of patio furniture on the cement by the door had seen better days.
Which was why it was such a shock to find Narcissa sitting in one of them, her back straight and not touching the backrest. Hermione had seen her leave the living room, but had wrongly assumed she went upstairs like Andromeda had.
"Oh, hey, Narcissa," Hermione said slowly, wondering if she should just turn around and leave the girl alone. But Narcissa looked up at her and motioned for her to take the empty seat. "It's freezing out here."
"It is," the blonde agreed after a moment of silence, turning to look at Hermione for only a second before looking around the neighborhood, taking in the many twinkling christmas lights that lined the houses surrounding them, the slight echo of holiday music coming from one or more of the open windows. "I never stopped to consider muggles would celebrate Christmas the same way as us."
"The gifts are much less... magical," Hermione said, for lack of a better word. "But the joy, the celebration, the wonder, it's all there still."
"You must miss your family."
Hermione swallowed, looking down at the dirt covered ground. If trying not to think of her friends and the Weasley's celebrating Christmas, she had tried even harder not to think of her parents. "It's odd," she said thickly. "Technically, I don't exist, and my parents don't even know one another in this time, so I'm not missed by anyone. And in my time- in my time, I oblivated them, so they don't remember me to miss me, but I remember everything."
That caught Narcissa's full attention, and she looked to Hermione curiously. "You Oblivated your parents?"
"Moody and Dumbledore are right to worry in this time, that things are going to get dangerous very soon. In my time, things are already so incredibly dangerous, and there are people that would hurt my parents to get to me and my friends."
"People like my sister." Not a question.
"Yes," Hermione said simply, watching Narcissa watch her. There were so many times she forgot the girl was only thirteen, so many times she forgot she had no connection to the cold and calculating woman who would destroy everything to protect her child. "We all had to make sacrifices, and that was one of mine."
Narcissa's eyes dipped down to Hermione's chest- no, to her neck- and stayed there for some time before she made eye contact once more. When she spoke next, she had changed the topic entirely.
"So that's what she ended up getting you."
Hermione fiddled with the diamond lion still around her neck. She wouldn't be taking it off any time soon. "It was a very wonderful gift, I love it very much."
"I'm surprised she'd bring herself to purchase a lion. She has the utmost pride in being Slytherin."
Andromeda had never said as much, but Hermione had never questioned the girl's house placement. Slytherin fit her. But there had never been any vocalized pride about it.
"I'm very happy with my lion," Hermione finally said.
"I'm surprised she was able to hide the purchase from our father. He would have been furious if he caught her with anything even slightly resembling Gryffindor." Narcissa was quiet before she added, "Her trying out for Quidditch and making the team as chaser was just another way to represent our prideful house."
"Yeah- wait!" Hermione said quickly, jerking her head to stare at Narcissa, her hand still around the lion. "You think Bellatrix gave me this?"
Narcissa looked at her for a moment, her lips pursed, before she flatly said, "I don't know what you're talking about." Forever one to stand by her sisters, that was for sure, even if Hermione could just make out the barest hints of confusion in her blue eyes.
"You did. You thought Bellatrix got me this, because she did get me something," Hermione worked out, more to herself than her companion. She looked up to the darkened sky with furrowed eyebrows, her bottom lip sucked between her teeth as she concentrated. "Narcissa-"
"I don't know anything," came the fast reply, followed shortly thereafter by Narcissa standing up and bidding Hermione a quiet goodnight as she walked back into the house, clearly preferring risking walking into another argument than staying out with Hermione any longer, not when the conversation went in such an unexpected direction.
Well, this conversation did nothing to distract her from thoughts of Bellatrix or make her headache any less painful.
It was hours later that Hermione found herself back in the kitchen. After the... confusing conversation with Narcissa, she had went back into the house only to find Bellatrix and Moody still talking to one another in the living room, and so she ventured upstairs, her hand on her necklace, completely lost in thought.
She hadn't yet decided if that was a mistake or not when she spotted Moody sat at the table, a half finished bottle of fire whiskey and an empty glass cup in front of him, along with a stack of parchment. A small brown owl sat on the counter, sleepily eating some food as it awaited being sent back out.
Moody gave her a nod of acknowledgment as he poured more alcohol into his glass, but otherwise said nothing to her as she went about getting a drink. It wasn't until she bid him goodnight that he spoke. "Have a seat, Miss Granger."
Only hesitating slightly, Hermione obeyed and pulled out the chair opposite of him, settling down and placing her own glass on the table.
"You think my way of getting her to talk is brutish, I assume?" He nodded his head towards the ceiling, making it quite clear to whom 'her' referred to. "There is a war brewing, Miss Granger, one no one wants to speak about. Dumbledore assured me you are aware of the seriousness of the situation, that you are perhaps more suited than all of us to understand it. I trust you because Dumbledore is a strong, wise wizard, who has done more for our cause than anyone could ever grasp. It's because of that that I am showing you this."
He tossed the topmost piece of parchment across the table, and she pulled it closer to her, looking over the hastily written words stained onto the curled paper. None of it made any sense, for the singular reason that it was in a language she had never seen before, and wasn't quite sure existed. To her, all of the slopping and conjoined letters looked illegible and made up, some even placed upon one another in an unintelligible jumble. Moody watched her face shift from interest to confusion, and pulled out his wand, leaning over the table to say a spell that had the letters rearrangement themselves into English.
"We need to remain a constant vigilance- never know who could intercept these letters, and with the Order so new and untested, we cannot risk anyone finding out about us just yet," Moody explained, gesturing for her to now read it.
It is as you thought. It was confirmed that the one you have been watching is now committed to their cause, along with the sibling. It is still unknown on how large the army currently is, but the source hinted that they grow in number everyday. The source has not been very forthcoming in further information. The Ministry would need more information before they choose to act on this. A couple muggle disappearances are not their concern. Will send more if the source divulges anything else. Remain on the look-out.
There was no indication on who the letter was addressed to, nor any sign off, and would surely confuse anyone if it were successfully intercepted before it reached the intended recipient. Hermione assumed it was to Dumbledore, as the source was absolutely Bellatrix. 'The one you have been watching' could be anyone, though the added part about a sibling hinted that it was most likely Rodolphus and Rabastan, which did make Hermione pause as she thought it over.
For some reason, she hadn't expected Bellatrix to confess it was her (boy?) friend and his sibling that were working with Voldemort, as she hadn't mentioned a single thing about Rodolphus being in the hallway trying to stop them on Christmas Eve.
"Rodolphus and Rabastan?" She asked, just to confirm her thoughts, and nodded to herself when Moody did so. "When Death Eaters attacked Hogsmeade weeks ago, both of them chased Andromeda, our friend, and myself through the woods too."
Moody poured a small amount of whiskey into his cup, and then drained it all quickly. "Dumbledore has had his suspicions about the Lestrange boys since last year."
"What'll happen to them now then?" Most likely nothing, Hermione knew, but it didn't hurt to ask.
She was proven correct when Moody said, "Dumbledore's hands are tied when it comes to expulsion, especially concerning two pure-blooded sons. The governors would never agree to it, and the parental response would put the Ministry into an uproar." Another bit of alcohol added before he slammed that back too. "He'll have them watched, when they're on the grounds, but ultimately... nothing to be done."
It was that sort of thinking that had so many of the students in these next few years turning to fight for Voldemort's cause, Hermione thought bitterly. Voldemort would recruit so many students near Bellatrix's age over the next couple of years, and Hogwarts would do nothing to stop it. Most likely would not even acknowledge the brewing war, if the Ministry had anything to say about it.
"If there is anything else I should know, I suggest you say so now."
There was... so much to be said, but none that wouldn't overly impact the future. Hermione knew certain things needed to happen, despite how tragic they may be. Not to mention she didn't know the small scuffles of this war, certainly not so early in the beginning. Their lessons talked about the big battles, Muggle studies addressed the massacres of muggles throughout the eleven years, but never dates, never names of those involved.
"There isn't anything else I can say," she finally mumbled, draining the rest of the water in her cup.
Moody's eyes were slightly fuzzy now as he refilled his glass once more, offering the bottle to her, to which she waved it off, watching all of his movements. He was already on his way to becoming a famed Auror, one known for the victories against dark wizards, but the cost was... steep. He would never marry, never have children, and the job would cost him some of his sanity, a man who would spend the rest of his days before he was killed in battle claiming people were out to get him. Much of it was a sham, a way to keep people from looking at him too closely, Hermione knew that, but there was always a kernel of truth to his claims, a part of him that did believe the words he was screaming, the tea kettles he would attack, thinking them a transfigured wizard.
He lived through this first war, had seen the tragedies that would come of it, and yet he did not hesitate to reinstitute the Order when they were needed once more.
A good man. Moody was a good man, despite him screaming back and forth with Bellatrix, though Hermione did have to admit the girl could make even the most rational people lose their calm mindsets.
But then he said, "There is more she hasn't said, you know," once more looking to the ceiling. He tossed another paper to Hermione, this one a folded up grey and black news paper- a muggle one.
THIRTY-ONE PEOPLE REPORTED MISSING ON CHRISTMAS MORNING
Christmas was not a warm and spiritual day, not for the sixteen families who reported children, spouses, or relatives missing the day before. All of the families reported a similar story to the police officers charged with investigating this most unusual occurrence, and said one moment the missing people were home, or at work, and the next- gone, disappeared in a puff of black smoke.
The police currently have no leads on the whereabouts of these people, all ranging in age, ethnicity, religion, and socioeconomic status. The youngest reported missing is thirteen year old Jonathan Baker, while the oldest is fifty-six year old Mildred Atkins, mother of four and grandmother of two. None of the reported people have a history of running away, nor do any of them have any sort of criminal record.
If anybody has any leads, or sees any of the people mentioned and pictured below, the police and their families are asking to be called at the following number, any time and any day.
Thirty-one small black and white photos then took up the rest of the page, followed by the number the article mentioned, along with the name of the police chief in charge.
"What-"
"Odd, isn't it, that thirty-one people go missing on Christmas Eve, within the same vicinity of one another? On the very same night Bellatrix was supposed to be inducted into Voldemort's army?"
Was that what Bellatrix's party would lead to? Something having to do with muggles? She looked down to her glamoured arm, and knew that whatever had happened to those people was a fate worse than death- for a time, until the Death Eaters did ultimately kill them all. For there was no doubt that was what had happened. Once the fun had ended for the dark wizards, the muggles would have been killed.
"You think this has to do with Bellatrix?"
"I think we are too uninformed to keep anything out of the realm of possibilities," Moody replied levelly, pushing himself off of the chair. Even with his hazy eyes, he did not stumble as he took the note for Dumbledore over to the owl and tied it around the bird's ankle, shoving it towards the window where it took flight and disappeared into the night. "You should get some rest, Hermione, for I don't think we have many peaceful days left, not anymore."
She stood up to listen, exhaustion now deep in her bones, but another article caught her attention, this one farthest from Moody on the table, closer to the wall. She read the title and didn't need to look any further.
Bartemius Crouch Promoted to Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement
A conversation during her fourth year at Hogwarts flashed through her mind, of her, Harry, Ron, and Sirius Black together in a cave, of Sirius telling them the laws Barty Crouch Sr. had bent to try and stop Voldemort. That would be happening soon, and many a wizard would be sent to Azkaban without trial. Is that what Moody meant? Did he see the path Crouch wanted to take the Ministry down, or was it something else?
"You should get some rest," he repeated, and Hermione said nothing more as she left the kitchen, walked quietly to the door and slowly pushed it open.
It was not to her bedroom that she went, but to Narcissa and Bellatrix's, and it was the latter's bed that she now marched to, poking the sleeping girl's shoulder only slightly roughly, until Bellatrix rolled onto her back and mumbled what was most definitely some sort of threat at being woken up.
"Get up," Hermione demanded, her mind on the conversation with Moody. Things were not going to be easy from here on out in their world, and she would not go into this with Bellatrix hating her, with Bellatrix hiding things from the Order. "We need to talk."
While Bellatrix shoved her tangled hair out of her face and moved to sit on the bed, Hermione walked to Narcissa's side of the bedroom, and much more gently than she did the girl's sister, prodded her awake. Narcissa's blonde hair was more frazzled than Hermione had ever seen before as she blearily blinked up as Hermione said, "Could you go and sleep with Andy, please?"
Throwing a confused and slightly annoyed look at Bellatrix, Narcissa pulled herself from the warm confines of the bed and, rubbing one eye, slowly shuffled out of the room. Hermione waited until she heard her own bedroom door click open and then closed before she looked to Bellatrix.
And tried not to let herself get distracted.
Bellatrix had been sleeping in a thinly strapped black nightgown, of which the right shoulder had slipped down and now clung to her bicep, the muscle visible as she shifted to watch Hermione, who just watched her back.
That stupidly breath taking attractiveness aside, even with the scowl on her face, Bellatrix looked the most gentle Hermione had seen her, more wild hair than girl, unfocused eyes, leaning against the wall and struggling not to blink so often or long.
"While I'd typically enjoy putting you in your place," Bellatrix said, the low and raspy tone of her voice doing things to Hermione's body that she couldn't acknowledge right now. "I'd rather sleep."
Hermione sat in Narcissa's bed, pulling her legs up to tuck them underneath her as she did so. Bellatrix watched all of her movements, but didn't reach for her wand. "In 1981, you and three other Death Eaters break into a family's house, and torture a mother and father to the point of insanity using the Cruciatus curse."
A slight widen of Bellatrix's dark eyes was the only indication she processed the statement, but Hermione pressed on.
"Like I told you before, you're going to be sentenced to life in prison. You break out after fourteen years, and you and others attack me and my friends at the Ministry of Magic when I'm fifteen."
"Why are you-"
"When I am sixteen... you break into Hogwarts and are a part of the group that kills someone very special to... so many people." Rules be damned right now, or as much as she was willing. She couldn't say it was Dumbledore who died, or who actually threw the killing curse, but she could say this, could.... could make sure Bellatrix really understood what all Hermione was trying to prevent.
"Granger-"
"I'm talking now," Hermione snapped, "you said enough last night." Those words would be on her mind for some time, she knew that to be true. No one cares about you. Not in my time, and not in yours. "And then..." the words became leaden in her throat, a physical effort to get them out, even as she held out her left arm, the glamor firmly in place even now, her hand shaking more than she would have liked to admit right then. "And then when I was seventeen, you pinned me to the ground, you used the Cruciatus curse on me."
Bellatrix's throat bobbed as she swallowed.
"After you were done with the curse, you- you did this." Hermione waved her wand over her arm, the magic disappearing, to leave the pale pink words, crudely carved into her arm with a spelled dagger so it may never fade.
The dark haired witch jerked from the bed at that, standing in the center of the room, so still, so unmoving. Her pupils were blown, and the sudden quick movements of her chest caught Hermione's attention as she watched the girl nearly hyperventilate.
"You're lying," Bellatrix hissed, her gaze wholly on the scar.
"I'm not."
The room felt too small, too cramped, too hot, with Bellatrix's penetrating gaze on her, all anger and denial in those uniquely deep eyes, made more prominent by the rosy blush on her face.
"Then I don't believe you."
Hermione refused to let her face show any sort of emotion, any recognition that hearing that claim hurt her. Bellatrix had hurt her enough last night. She would not cry over her again, would not give her the power to hurt her again. "I think you do, Bella, I think that's why you're so affected by this right now. You did this to me. You. This mark is going to be on my body for the rest of my life because of you. And I still came here. Expendable or not, I am still risking everything I have for this mission. Because you are such a horrid, wretched, dangerous woman, that my side saw no other choice except to send a seventeen year old back thirty years in time!"
She wasn't expendable, she knew that, but it hadn't stopped Bellatrix's words from hitting some small, insecure part she had buried deep within herself. A painful reminder of her beginning at Hogwarts, when she had had no friends, no one to talk to. But it had all changed once Ron and Harry became her friends, and then she most definitely had not been expendable, not at all.
And maybe, maybe McGonagall hadn't sent her here just because her professor assumed she would be the only one rational enough to stay focus (an assumption she had proven wrong, unfortunately), but also as a way to heal from her trauma. Bellatrix Black had been a figure that haunted her nightmares, the torture still painfully fresh in her heart and soul when she had first come here, but now? Now, when she thought of Bellatrix, her mind went to a mouthy seventeen year who loved her sisters, who loved to play Quidditch, who loved to annoy the ever-loving Merlin out of Hermione, but someone who was a friend. A child with her own trauma, her own burdens, but someone Hermione was inexplicably drawn to.
If she dug deeper, if she allowed herself to really acknowledge it, acknowledge the kisses between them and the almost going further than that, well...
Hermione liked this Bellatrix, liked Bella. The girl with the teasing grins, the gorgeous eyes, the wicked mouth, the one who would check on her if she got hurt in Quidditch and then immediately make fun of her once she knew it was nothing serious. Liked everything about her, even the dark and ugly parts of her.
That was the biggest reason she had cried so hard last night. She liked Bella, and to think even for a moment the girl viewed her as weak or expendable or anything of the other harsh words she had spit at Hermione.
"Why do I care what you think?" Bellatrix was saying, pure fire in her eyes, even as she just kept looking at Hermione's scar. "You think me some sort of monster, I'm sure, if I supposedly did that to you."
"You do care what I think," Hermione said softly, thinking back to her conversation with Narcissa. "You care enough to have listened to me on your birthday, when you could have just turned me over to any of the Death Eaters downstairs. You care enough to want to get me a Christmas gift."
Bellatrix's mouth opened, and then closed, and then opened again. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Why are you so insistent that you don't like me?" Hermione asked instead of pointing out the obvious lie, instead of throwing Narcissa further under the bus, even if Bellatrix would most likely be able to figure out why she knew about the gift.
"What's there to like?"
"I'm not playing this back and forth with you anymore, Bella," Hermione sighed, running a hand through her knotted hair. "You want to hate me? It'll hurt, I won't lie, but hate me. I'm tired of trying to convince you that I'm worth having a friendship with, or that I do care about what happens to you. Even after all the terrible things you've said, I still care about you, but I'm not going to let myself be treated like this anymore. We'll finish the holiday here, and when we get back to Hogwarts, you'll never have to talk to me again. I'll figure out how to return to my time now that you've helped the Order, and you'll never see me again."
She was tired of this, so undeniably tired of everything. Bellatrix might be someone she liked, cared for, and her sisters as well, but nothing was worth the emotional turmoil the girl was willing to put Hermione through, if only for her own personal amusement or because she did genuinely despise her now. Hermione turned and made to walk back to the door, whatever fire spurred her to come try and talk to Bellatrix now extinguished.
Before she could even reach the doorknob, a warm, smooth hand was tightly gripping her wrist, holding her place. "You would truly leave, just like that?"
Hermione looked over her shoulder at Bellatrix, now much closer and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I was sent back here to make sure you didn't join Voldemort, that's all I was supposed to do. I wasn't supposed to befriend Andy and even Narcissa. I wasn't supposed to like this time. I had one job. I definitely wasn't supposed to like you. But I did. I do. I like all of you. And leaving... I don't know if that's what I want, at least right now. I was actually enjoying myself with you, as selfish as that is. Maybe that's wrong, I don't know, but yes, I would truly leave all of that behind, if that's what you wanted."
"That isn't what I want." The statement came so quick, so softly, Hermione would have thought she imagined it had it not been for the slight blush, so uncharacteristic, now marking Bellatrix's sharp cheeks. Her bottom lip was sucked between her teeth before she said, if just to regain some semblance of suave indifference, "At least wait until after the Quidditch Cup so you can help Slytherin win."
Hermione barked a laugh, the comment so unexpected but so entirely Bellatrix. "Maybe I should switch over to Gryffindor now. Help my true house win."
"Muggle-born or not," Bellatrix said slowly, "Slytherin is your house. You'd be an idiot to want to support those hideous lions."
It was a testament to their relationship, the friendship they had built over the last few weeks, that they could so easily regain the traction they had lost on Christmas Eve. The Bellatrix was September would have sent curses flying her way without any sort of hesitation or remorse, would have laughed the entire time she did so. But now, Bellatrix just dropped Hermione's wrist with a halfhearted roll of her eyes and walked back to her bed, throwing over her shoulder, "Narcissa is a rat for saying anything about a supposed gift."
They'd be fine, the two of them, Hermione knew as she smiled at Bellatrix's back, walking to sit back down on Narcissa's bed. They would be completely fine.