November
Bella's patience with Hermione's patience was quickly running out. Yes, a part of her understood why Hermione remained passive, namely she was just a middle-class orphan while every single one of those five cows belonged to a Noble family. Nothing they said would justify Hermione attacking them with magic, words too strong could get Hermione punished and words less powerful could never penetrate their shields of ignorance and armors of arrogance.
There had to be something that could be done, those airheads weren't worth the cost of their own robes. But there were so many reasons for Bella to not get involved. For starters, Hermione probably wouldn't appreciate her involvement, given it might both paint a bigger target on her back and make her feel indebted to Bella. Her Father would not be happy about Bella attacking other Nobility. Slughorn might-
"...such a lack of self-control a fifth-year had to hug her so she wouldn't cry."
Crap. That fifth-year had to be Andy. Crap crap crap. Whatever caused Andy to publicly hug Hermione must've been ten times worse and more nuanced than what a dumbo like Carine could understand. But Nobility-
"...some skin disease so nasty it allegedly took Corban three weeks to recover-"
Bella's brain snapped and for a few horrible seconds, she didn't know what to do. But then she recalled her Father's words – we are not better because we are Nobility, we are Nobility because we are better. And she was. Those cretins were an insult to ideals of Nobility and an insult to Slytherin. There was nothing Noble, nothing cunning, nothing ambitious about them. And even though Hermione was being smart by simply enduring their insults, Bella was a daughter of the proud and Noble House Black. There was a lot more she could get away with, if she didn't mind say a detention. And she knew just the curse to try out, one with no verbal components and with wand movements that could fit under a table.
"Eurghaabrgrfghhh…"
"Aieeee..."
The sight of maggots erupting from Carine's mouth to do their best to crawl into her nostrils was so repulsive it made a part of Bella's mind decide to never use it again if possible. The rest of her mind watched Jasmine returning her breakfast and the mayhem spreading into the rest of the common room.
"Is that your work, Black? I'm disgusted!"
But she saw the mixed reactions in the crowd. The few Noble and smart Slytherins saw her actions for what they were, a just retaliation for those hussies failing their upbringing and House Slytherin. Others saw her marking her territory, or making Hermione owe her, or being a stereotypical crazed Black, or whatever suited their nature. The important thing was they were so divided in their opinions they couldn't coordinate and seize initiative from her. Attack would be her best defense.
"So am I, those want to call themselves Nobility? What would Salazar say if he saw you? You've failed your families and your housemates! Trust me, professor Slughorn will hear about this. Hermione? We're headed for his office now and I want to hear even the parts when I wasn't paying attention."
One wave of her wand dispelled the curse on Carine, who switched to just being sick next to Jasmine, and the rest of the common room was too stunned to stop them before they've left.
"I'm really sorry for this, Hermione. I did not want to make your life harder, I just lost my temper as I watched them behave like the opposite of what a Noble pure-blood should strive for."
"You have nothing to apologize for, Bellatrix, and I thank you for your help. I don't know how they'll react but I do know you tried to do the right thing. Though I have to admit it has been a long time since I last saw that curse."
Interesting…
"No surprise, to be honest. This was my first time using it and given how gross it was, I don't plan to do it again."
****
"I just don’t want to become a tool you might use against Bella, Hermione."
Hermione’s first reaction was silence, as she was still savoring another piece of crystallised pineapple. Although the middle of November, this Saturday afternoon was still warm and sunny and the cherry orchard south of Hogsmeade was a good spot for a picnic, especially with a bit of help from warming charms, so she was in no hurry to cut short her enjoyment of what sweets she’d allow herself. And she knew Andy would wait, fully aware Hermione’s love for her favorite candy equaled her own love for the pink coconut ice Andy was munching on.
"Because everyone in Slytherin knows Bellatrix and I are 'friends' but not really friends, right?"
Andy's first reaction was a pouting face, and not an entirely pretend one. Her voice was quickly changing from one fit for talking about fair-haired wizards to one weary of having to play mindgames.
"Come on, I do understand you're trying to help, and I do appreciate the effort. However, despite all her faults, Bella did so much to help me and protect me that I know she's not just another pure-blood fanatic. She doesn't deserve being put into such a vulnerable position. I do feel it is not your intention to-"
Hermione interrupted her.
"Andy, it might be your actual life we're talking about. Me knowing about you doesn't change anything about your own feelings and I might not be the only person to uncover your secrets either. What will you do in five years, or in twenty?"
Andy seemed to lack the willpower to keep her eyes turned towards Hermione, focusing her attention onto the hem of her blouse.
"I will be an adult. Should I get disowned, she will not have to destroy her own life trying to protect her baby sister."
Hermione's hand found Andy's knee and gently squeezed in a gesture of support.
"I know how scary that feels, Andy, but I'm not telling you to go and marry a mudblood next week. All I did was admit I used to know a witch similar to you who married a mudblood and they loved each other way more than her pure-blood parents loved her. And no, they were not related to my parents. And you were the one who mentioned you caught yourself daydreaming about a mudblood in class yesterday and I only told you about that traitor witch when you thought such couples almost never actually exist."
"I know! But I'm Black, I've been trained to always consider politics since I've learned to talk! And even you were quick to point out that that traitor witch wasn't related to you!"
That first outburst seemed to calm Andy down a bit, her left hand went to rest atop Hermione's and she even squeezed back in recognition. But she went on.
"Of course I have to consider the possibility you might use Bella's silence should I become guilty of any... indiscretion... as leverage against her! This wouldn't be about things like school grades, this would be real politics. My heart tells me you're an honest friend but my training knows you might be playing a long con here, Hermione."
Andy's words hurt, on many levels. Hermione was aware of how she was sort of guilty of deception, given the traitor witch in question was Andy from a different reality. She was aware of how her need to maintain her cover made her act like a sort-of-tolerant pure-blood even in front of Andy. She hated the way a teenager like Andy had to deal with adult politics of a bigoted society. She knew her 'friendship' with Bellatrix was a part of a bigger plan to undermine this reality's Voldemort, even though she was also finding the young Bellatrix much nicer and less crazy than expected. And something in her soul yielded and made a decision to be more honest than she would have guessed even ten minutes ago.
"I am."
Andy's eyes went as big as saucers and her fingers gripped Hermione's as a wave of panic hit her.
"Several, in fact. But my long cons aren't aimed at hurting you, Andy. And they aren't aimed at hurting Bellatrix either. However,..."
A short relaxation, when she said Andy wasn't her mark, and a tightening again, when another uncertainty appeared.
"...I did know sisters quite similar to you and Bellatrix. One was the traitor who married a mudblood. The other went through really horrible things and did horrible things herself, even murdered her sister's half-blood daughter, before she got killed in a fight with someone else. She didn't kill my parents, in case you're worried about that. And I can't name any names and yes, I'm obfuscating the events a bit."
Andy's voice switched to sympathetic, her grip from nervous to soothing.
"I had no idea Australia was such a violent place, Hermione. Is it still that bad? Is that why you're here at Hogwarts?"
"No. My main reason for studying at Hogwarts really is the one Headmaster mentioned: N.E.W.T.s. My cons, and using this word means stretching it a lot, are mostly outside-school stuff - why do you think I spend like every other weekend away from school? But you and Bellatrix are sort of a special case."
This earned Hermione a nervous giggle from Andy.
"You're not a good con-woman when you confess like that. Or are you so good we'll fall for it even if we know?"
Hermione smiled back.
"You bet I am. I'll even explain my devious plan, okay? I'll keep an eye on you and if you do end up disowned as blood-traitor, I'll make sure you're safe and your sisters free to talk to you. I've already talked about this with Bellatrix and I do think she could be persuaded into standing up to your father and yes, I do believe we could win that fight. Sure, he'd disown you, but he would let your sisters stay in touch. And my own profit here? My friend stays happy and safe and Black sisters owe me big time. How's that for a plan?"
And Andy was smiling again, the slight tint of nervousness and caution as subdued as could be hoped for when one is a Black in her situation.
"Completely delusional claptrap, fit for a third-year Gryffindor. But if I ever do plan to marry a mudblood, I'll *need* such a plan, because my father would never fall for a Slytherin plot. I'm in! What I need now, though, is that butterbeer and my choco-loco..."
****
"I want no part in whatever play you're aiming for here, Miss Black. The only reason I'm willing to hear you out is that Molly asked me to. But hearing you out is the only thing I promised her."
Bella wasted no effort on smiling on Arthur Weasley, knowing full well he would suspect even her smile. She just nodded.
"You are perfectly clear, Mr. Weasley. But this is a serious matter, far more important than whatever Slytherin prank you're likely expecting here."
He interrupted her and Bella, aware of her goals, let him.
"In that case it is probably even more important I don't do anything more than hear you out, Miss Black. But do go on."
This time she smiled, the irony of his words in contrast with what she was going to ask for too intense for her to spend her energy on fighting the impulse.
"Thank you. If anyone finds out about this meeting and asks too much, I'm trying to blackmail you about your night-time activities with Miss Prewett."
"But we didn't do anything- oh, I see. The curfew alone. Is that talk about 'if anyone finds out' your way of maintaining deniability while blackmailing us?"
Bella sighed.
"You're talking to me because Molly Prewett asked you to. She did me this favour because she's becoming good friends with Andromeda. If I tried to blackmail you, you'd tell Miss Prewett, she would be angry and complain to Andromeda, and blackmailing you can't give me anything valuable enough to outweigh damaging my relationship with my sister, no matter what some of the friends she seems to keep these days are like. I am not going to blackmail you about this. Are we clear here?"
Arthur Weasley nodded once, paused as if to think about her words a second time, and then spoke up.
"I guess we are clear on what you want me to believe, Miss Black. But this is as far as I'm willing to think like a Slytherin, so go ahead and tell me why you asked to meet."
"I need to speak with your Mother, Mr. Weasley, and I am sure I don't have to explain why it has to be in secret."
Well, he certainly wasn't expecting that, and his face was an amusing study in a Gryffindor's ability to hide total surprise. Luckily, it only took him a few seconds to go back to looking reasonably sensible, even though the surprise and uncertainty remained visible on his face.
"I don't think she'll want to speak with you, Miss Black. I don't remember you ever doing anything that might make her wish to. As far as I know, she never talked to any Black again since before I was born. Why should she make an exception for you?"
Bella knew this would be the hardest part. But it couldn't be helped, Andy's safety took precedence over Bella's comfort. And while Bella would never admit it out loud, Hermione's question about who would be willing to make what sacrifices for whom showed her there was a way her own willingness to make a sacrifice might let her solve this problem.
"This will not be easy, as I can't risk a Legilimens discovering it from your mind, Mr. Weasley. But you can tell her I'm willing to make an Unbreakable Vow, in front of a witness of her choice, that I mean her no harm as a result of such a meeting. But tell her in person, please, because somebody intercepting an owl is actually more likely than a Legilimens reading your mind and fishing for these memories."
"That... might actually convince her, Miss Black, given you've also managed to convince Molly to help you, but I can't make a promise. I will give her your message, and I will tell her you seemed honest to me, but I'm sure you know her name has been burned from the Black family tree tapestry and even know details about why. There are many reasons why she might refuse anyway."
****
"I want no part in whatever play you're aiming for here, Miss Granger. You might have never said anything openly but half the Hufflepuff know you're now Bellatrix Black's most ambitious friend. Why don't you just leave me alone?"
Some parts of Hermione's soul wanted to. This wasn't her world's Ted Tonks, after all, and she's never been that great a matchmaker. But she couldn't ignore the fact that this reality's Andy was still sometimes ogling him, or the even more telling fact that she even blurted out his name to Hermione on two occasions.
"Not everyone in Slytherin is a future Dark Witch, Mr. Tonks. Not all Slug Club members are Slytherins. And I am not Miss Black's servant. Maybe just five minutes of your time, please?"
His sigh was more one of resignation than a result of her words convincing him.
"I couldn't hide from you forever anyway, Miss Granger. Go on with whatever you were trying to accomplish, then."
"Okay.. So... Did you know that the V-2 propellant was a mixture of ethanol and water in order it wouldn't burn too hot?"
"Didn't, or managed to forget. And I fail to see your angle here, Miss Granger."
"I saw the Muggle magazine you were reading this Monday. Perfectly normal interest for a Muggle-born wizard your age, if you ask me. And believe it or not, I do know more about the topic than you'd expect from a Slytherin witch. So my question was more than just a random bit of trivia I've somehow discovered, Mr. Tonks."
His gaze was trying to be penetrating, his posture became the tiniest bit more relaxed. His voice was pure disbelief, though.
"You're interested in rocket science?!?"
"More like enchanted by the results, Mr. Tonks, but one learns a thing or two anyway. Like that burning alive in pure oxygen would probably be as horrible as getting hit by Fiendfyre. Mr. Schira is lucky he's ended up in a wheelchair instead of dead."
"I can't believe my own ears, Miss Granger. A pure-blood witch who knows about the Gemini VI accident? And is willing to admit to that? What *is* your game here?"
Hermione thought it would be safe to offer a friendly smile, so she did so, and her left hand gestured towards the nearby park bench.
"So will you give me those five minutes?"
Hesitation. Caution. Evaluation. But Edward Tonks was a Hufflepuff and a future healer, it wasn't in his bones to be as paranoid as a Slytherin might be.
"Yes."
And his back propelled him away from the tree he's been leaning against and towards that bench.
"Even if I'm not here to talk about rocket science?"
"So why talk about it, then? Just to show you're different from most pure-blood witches?"
Hermione allowed herself another sigh.
"Yes, just to hint I'm not your stereotypical pure-blood Slytherin. So you don't do anything stupid in panic when you hear what I want to tell you."
The tired smile she saw on Ted's face spoke volumes. It was the smile of a Muggle-born wizard who survived several years in Hogwarts and was convinced there weren't many things a pure-blood could surprise him with by saying.
"Fire away."
"I kind of noticed how you find a certain... pure-blood witch easy on the eye, shall we say?"
"And you're here to tell me to keep my filthy eyes away from her, but you wished to do it in a Muggle-friendly way?"
"Not really, Mr. Tonks. I would greatly appreciate it if you could get better at concealing your interest, of course, but your interest as such is one I find acceptable."
His face went rigid, his stare went blank, even his body projected but one thought – does not compute. It took him maybe half a minute to compose his next sentence, a time which Hermione spent patiently waiting.
"That doesn't make sense."
"Will it make more sense if I tell you that I saw that same witch trying to hide her interest in a certain wizard of questionable breed?"
"What?!? She's-"
His eyes went narrow.
"Is this some sort of setup? A prank? Why would you..."
He went silent again, his teenage brain trying to figure out why the Hermione he knew, the false mask the real Hermione has been forced to wear, would play a matchmaker. So she spoke again.
"Look, all I'm saying is that I can tell you're both interested, that luckily for you some people you wouldn't expect it from are okay with it, and most importantly I'm here to warn you that you both need to get *much* better at hiding everything if anything happens because some other people might take it *extremely* badly should they find out. Can you imagine what her father might do if either of you makes a mistake? Honestly, the only reason I'm talking to you instead of her is your Occlumency marks and I'm really happy you're this dedicated to keeping your future patients' information confidential. I'm trying to help her get better too, and she's way above average already, given her upbringing, but these things take time. So whatever happens, make damn sure you both stay safe, got it? Oh, and this meeting was just about that magazine of yours and I was making fun of you, in case anyone you might be willing to talk to asks. And I better not make this more than a few minutes, given what I just said about keeping things secret, eh? So even thought there's one very interesting project that magazine of yours inspired me to think about, I guess we best leave that discussion for another day."
****
"Welcome, Miss Black, and take a seat, please. I know how portkey travel can be a little unpleasant."
Bella didn't need to take a seat. But she accepted the offer and used the time to evaluate her destination. A middle-class tavern room, thankfully not a Muggle one, and possibly really in Wales. One oaken table, two upholstered chairs, the one opposite her occupied by a witch she never saw from up close before. Cedrella Weasley. Born Cedrella Black. Not that close a relative – her father was a brother of one of Bella's great-grandfathers. But she was her closest living relative who has been disowned by her family for being a blood-traitor.
"Thank you for giving me this chance to talk to you, Mrs. Weasley. I do apologize for being this blunt but... is it correct to assume that you still have no desire to get back into my family's good graces?"
The question earned her an amused smile.
"It is. But while I will admit you're doing okay so far, Miss Black, I will nonetheless give you a warning I don't expect will surprise you. I am in no mood for cunning plots. Stay open and honest, or you might find this meeting to be over. Is that clear?"
It was. Sure, the request didn't make deceit impossible. But it confirmed Bella's suspicion that even a single mistake on her part might close this avenue of opportunity forever.
"Clear as glass, Mrs. Weasley. May I explain why I asked for this meeting?"
"Is it to tell me you're in love with Hermione Granger and you've discovered she's secretly a blood traitor?"
The question was so unexpected it managed to leave Bella speechless for a moment. It took her three or four seconds to come up with a reply.
"No. Are you trying to unbalance me, or was this Arthur's idea?"
That smile on Cedrella's face wouldn't go away.
"Just the most amusing possibility, Miss Black. But while Arthur never mentioned such an idea, can you honestly deny such a situation could be one to make you want to talk to me? After all, Arthur is not the only Hogwarts student I can talk to – and my inquiries do lead me to believe your eyes prefer witches to wizards."
Of course she wasn't in love with Hermione. Attracted to, yes, but not in love. And it became quite obvious even Mrs. Weasley considered that scenario just an amusing possibility, instead of the most likely reason for Bella's request. On the other hand, it was also a cheap opportunity for scoring some honesty points.
"Miss Granger may sometimes behave in ways true nobility wouldn't, that I'm willing to admit. But I'm not aware of anything making her a blood traitor. As for my feelings towards her, I'll acknowledge her friendship with my sister made me... consider her a friend by proxy at a minimum. And I guess those other Hogwarts students would be correct to say that she is my type, given my past... fancies. But I'm not in love with her and we are both perfectly aware of our duties towards our families, Mrs. Weasley."
"I thought I was too at your age, Miss Black, but the explanation is appreciated. And if you would accept my apologies for that flippant comment of mine, I'm sure you do know I would like to hear what made you ask for this meeting. If you're ready?"
Was this the reason for that Hermione comment? Was it an attempt to break some ice before the true debate began? Well, no matter how opposed Cedrella claimed to be towards Slytherin-style games and machinations, she sure still knew how to play and her face was nothing but a friendly mask. No point in delaying the inevitable.
"You have managed to survive the... events that caused a burned-out spot on the Black family tapestry where your name used to be, Mrs. Weasley. And while the risk remains low, truth is a possibility exists that a Black close to me might end up in a similar situation. I was hoping to ask for any advice on how to prepare for such an eventuality."
"Is this merely a preparedness effort, or is the risk higher than theoretical?"
"Higher, I'm afraid. Quite low, by my estimates, but the potential impact is so serious I do want to be ready for such an eventuality. I want to believe their self-control would win - but I'm not the only person who noticed them... noticing a person who would be considered unacceptable by my family. I can manage to apply limited political pressure on my family should such need arise but that would require for any rebellious kin of mine to stay alive. I would understand if you would refuse to get involved, given I'm not willing to endorse such relationships, but I'm inquiring on someone else's behalf, not on my own, and I have grown to understand some members of my family tend to… react to such developments in fashions I would not endorse either."
There was a bit of tension visible on Cedrella's face, most likely because she was a bit out of practice in regards to keeping her Slytherin face on, but her true emotions remained hidden. However, her words gave Bella hope her gamble might pay off should she ever need it to.
"I see. And such noble intentions deserve to be helped, even if you're not willing to endorse such couples. I do know a person in France who has a muggle husband and despite that has enough power to make even your father think twice about hurting someone acknowledged to be under her protection. He would know she would have to respond to an insult any attack would constitute with similar force and I don't believe he would be willing to start a vendetta. Any lovebirds under her protection would have to pull their weight, of course, because not even she can freely defy everyday expectations at no costs, and they'd have to move to France, but it might be their best chance. Do you want me to make a tentative inquiry, no names mentioned?"