December
[Colovaria]
[Expeliarmus]
Bella's wand left her hand the moment Hermione's wordless spell hit - but Hermione's skin turned neon pink a split of a second earlier. And Hermione's voice became a show of exaggerated vexation.
"Really?!? Another win for you on a technicality, Bellatrix, because I said first spell landed? You're just abusing my tendency to ignore harmless spells if they give me an opening and Colovaria has quite obvious wand movements. Are you really this sore about still being worse at dueling?"
Bella's reply was near-automatic, her brain free to focus on other things. Even picking up her wand was almost an automatic reflex, barely registered by her conscious self.
"You set the rule, don't complain you keep forgetting this isn't real combat."
And the thing Bella's brain was focused on was possibly quite an important one. It was just a split of a second, and possibly just a mistake Bella's eyes made, but the thing her brain was focused on was how the color on Hermione's left arm changed a tiniest bit slower than everywhere else, the way a even a sophisticated Disillusionment charm might interfere with Colovaria. Because that indicated there might be something hidden on her arm, and there was one possibility that sprung to Bella's mind. A possibility that would explain why Hermione spent some of her weekends away from Hogwarts and sometimes came back surprisingly exhausted or possibly having been magically healed. A possibility explaining her combat experience. A possibility that made Bella recall how she sometimes saw Hermione act as if there was an old wound, or an old scar, on that arm. After all, even Bella's own... occasional encounters with her own knife... didn't leave marks a simple Episkey couldn't heal.
"Look, I've accepted you won this round. But I thought you wanted to train martial magic, not dueling."
Bella used to think the way Hermione treated her arm had something to do with Hermione's secret past. Maybe something to do with the possibly violent death of her parents. But Bellatrix suddenly realized there might be another explanation for it all, one she only ever heard whispered words about. The Dark Mark.
Sure, Hermione was in fact a young witch. It was entirely possible that she was hiding a plain scar or maybe even some small blemishes. After all, a witch shows her naked arms way more often than her naked body, so the fact that Hermione wasn't hiding the scars Bella noticed on her body on the rare occasions an opportunity presented itself was no proof in regards to Hermione's arms. It was even possible that she sometimes had to ground herself into reality the same way Bella did. But there was the possibility that the probable charm on Hermione's left hand was hiding something more important. Was she really a homeschooled witch, or an agent infiltrating Hogwarts?
"Bellatrix??? Are you zoning out? I said, ready for another round?"
Always. But Hermione possibly bearing the Dark Mark certainly gave Bella some food for thought.
****
"Nonsense. I can't let you spend Christmas here and basically alone."
Andy's friendly hands holding Hermione's felt absolutely genuine. No politicking, no games, just an honest friend inviting her to spend Christmas with her family. But the thought of spending days under the roof of Cygnus Black...
"Besides, it looks like you might be the only witch who could explain the one Muggle thing that Ted is still obsessing about."
"Which would be..."
"Rockets."
Hermione knew a lot about hiding her thoughts and emotions. But she wasn't perfect and it is much easier to hide something from an enemy two steps away than from a friend holding one's hands.
"Calm down, I'm not judging you. I've seen Muggle fireworks myself, they do have a sort of primitive beauty. But Ted's both kind of obsessive and strangely evasive about this interest of his."
Of course fireworks made sense to Andy, her admission helping Hermione relax a bit. But Ted's evasiveness made Hermione's fingers tense again, which didn't go unnoticed by Andy.
"So it wasn't just some random remark in front of him? You're spending time with him behind my back, using stupid fireworks as an excuse? Are you trying to help or should I slap you?"
Hermione had to let go of Andy's hands, her mind unwilling to keep too many masks on in front of one of her few friends in her new timeline.
"I only talked to him about rockets like four times! But... Yes, I know a lot more about Muggle rockets than I'm supposed to. Less than Ted, I guess, but I'm not supposed to know! We're just helping another wizard with some charms related to rockets. And I thought Ted's smart enough to keep his mouth shut!"
Andy's hands went to Hermione's shoulders, trying to calm her down, signaling Andy's continued friendliness.
"Sorry I snapped at you, Hermione, it looked like you might be thinking about poaching him. He never mentioned any work on rocket charms either. And don't worry, an interest in Muggle fireworks isn't that dark a secret. I mean, who am I to judge, eh?"
Hermione knew she should thank her lucky stars and play it safe. But the caring, friendly part of her, tired of having to be a Slytherin for days on end, wouldn't let her. Not entirely.
"It is more than fireworks, Andy. But I'm not sure you're ready for such knowledge. And once you do know, there is no going back, unless you let yourself get Obliviated."
Andy's eyes, while still friendly, were also concerned, inquisitive, evaluating.
"You talk as if it was some Dark rituals, Hermione, not just Muggle inventions. Should I be worried?"
It took nearly all of Hermione's self-control to hide her relief when she saw how little Andy knew about those "just Muggle inventions".
"No. I'm fine and Ted is too, there's no Dark magic involved. But I know more about Muggles and rockets than I've been letting on and I don't think you're ready to find out and keep it all secret from your parents, Andy."
"Oh. I do see your point, Hermione. To be honest, I've almost blurted out how amazing Ted is in front of Bella yesterday. You get to keep those Muggle secrets – for now. Just remember I'm pretty good at Occlumency already, much better than even a Black is required to and I'm getting better still every day. You *will* have to come clean once I'm good enough!"
****
Dumbledore's wordless Arresto Momentum hit Bella safely before her face would hit the floor. Her paralysis went away one wand swish later and it took her just a second or two to pick up her own wand and holster it. Her blood wasn't boiling – but she wasn't far from it either, even if her face wasn't showing it.
"And that's nine victories for you out of nine duels, Headmaster. Just like we have both expected. Is there a chance I might get so lucky you will tell me what is the point of this lesson – or do you want me to speculate on my own?"
The man was old and experienced, a politician, a war veteran and so much more. There was next to no chance she might be able to manipulate him by herself. But it was possible he might guilt-trip himself into being less cryptic for once, so Bella's question came with her best 'diligent student' face on. His first words didn't give her much hope, though.
"I am sure you have multiple theories already, Miss Black."
So Bella kept that diligent expression on her face and answered, her hands making minute adjustments to her robes and hiding any hints of the duels she's fought.
"But maybe there is one you want me to hear from you anyway?"
Dumbledore's repertoire of wise and enigmatic smiles was seemingly inexhaustible.
"Yes, but maybe you would be more likely to believe it if you came up with it yourself?"
There was no chance in hell such a seemingly simple argument could be just that. It had to hide a deeper meaning, or a reference to something else. Trouble was, the range of possibilities was so vast that Bella saw no good way to narrow it down to just a few.
"Maybe I've guessed already and you could confirm it for me?"
One more take on an enlightened smile.
"It could be quite amusing, if one were the sort to be amused by such things, to see you reject a truth because it was shared without disguise or price. But let us hope you are not that misguided, shall we?"
And after just a moment's wait, one too short for anyone behaving politely to interrupt him, Dumbledore continued.
"You are more than just one of the two brightest witches of your generation, Miss Black. You have several other gifts too and you might eventually rise to a level equal to my own. Even today, most wizards twice your age would stand next to no chance in a duel against you. However, witches trying to find their way to the top tend to find those top layers of wizarding society rich in people of similar talent. I'm not going to insult your intelligence and pretend that money and heritage play no role – but I am certain you know many people's fighting skills are such that you would need years more to match them. Should you not give yourself those years, you might find yourself not even having the time to regret it. And I don't wish any of my students dead, no matter what their parents' affiliations are."
Of course Dumbledore could see the same storm clouds on the horizon that were painfully obvious to Bella. And his eyes were old and wearied and Bella became acutely aware of all the death he must have seen during his life. He has spent years of his life fighting the global wizarding war, he has seen years of death and destruction. He was an old and tired man. He was desperate to never experience such things again.
"I understand your concerns, Headmaster. But some things are more important than one's safety, no matter how young one is. And I am an adult since September, Headmaster."
Even with those painful memories still visible in the old man's eyes, his ever-changing smile would not go away, making him look like he knew far more than he was letting on. But although Bella knew his reputation was well-deserved, she was certain he knew less than he wanted people to believe he did. His wise voice was a mask, at least in part.
"You are still young enough to feel invulnerable and lucky, Miss Black. You know you are not but there is a part of you that refuses to accept that knowledge. If your defeats today become the final touch that will help you stay aware of your mortality should you need that awareness in the future, this was a worthwhile lesson. People like me tend to not use lethal magic first – but you might find yourself the target of someone who does otherwise one day, Miss Black. So have I confirmed your guess, or do I have to come up with a new way of helping you accept the dangers around you?"
Of course the man had to cram multiple messages into his words. The first important one was easy. Should it ever come to actual blows, Dumbledore's people would use stunners and such unless attacked with deadly force. Play nice, Bella, and you'll get to live even if you lose. The second one? Just a reminder of what she knew since about nine – even pure-blood nobles might try to kill her if they consider it the best option available. But it was the third hint that Bella saw in Dumbledore's words that deserved deeper analysis. He was telling her she would have to make a choice. Stay safe and gain personal power while Dumbledore's side remains unchallenged, or get involved and risk death and defeat. Damn, the old man could even give a lesson in Slytherin style, his advice could actually help her stay alive and gain power, and the duels alone gave her a few pointers regarding chaining her spells for faster casting. And he did this despite knowing where her loyalties were.
Yes, she would have to spend some time thinking. She would have to spend a lot of time thinking. But one thing was becoming quite obvious. For all his failings, Dumbledore could be allowed to remain a headmaster. He was capable of ignoring his own politics and being a good teacher even to Slytherins. Get rid of his political power, give him sensible rules to adhere to, and his skills and knowledge could be put to good use. The change Bella knew would have to come might be less violent than she feared just that very morning.
"You certainly gave me a few reasons to think, Headmaster, and I am genuinely thankful for this lesson. I have just one question now. Are you planning to offer a similar lesson to Miss Granger?"
Somehow, Dumbledore's eyes became a shade more sad.
"No reason to, Miss Black. She knows way more about mortality than I would wish her to."
****
The cup warming Hermione's hands contained nothing but pear juice, honey and spices. The one leaving Dumbledore's lips also contained a splash of firewhisky, Hermione guessed the only one he'd allow himself for the day, but the fire crackling in his fireplace was enough to make her stop thinking about either having some herself or casting another warming charm.
"So... Don't beat yourself about today, Hermione. We are safe now, nobody knows we were there, and we can try again next full moon. To be honest, a part of me still hates the idea of letting you fight this war again. The only reason I'm willing to let you is the hope that your help might let us avoid the future you've experienced. The world where we would have to resort to unreliable prophecies and misinformed child soldiers. Yes, we made a small mistake today. But that's nothing compared to how my other self let things go to hell, Hermione."
Her eyes locked onto the flames two steps away, she took another sip from that half-empty cup and her voice was flat.
"I hate the pain I've been through and all the trauma I haven't left behind yet and maybe never will. But the war made me capable of acknowledging reality, no matter how horrible it is. Like I told you months ago, I understand why your other self made those awful choices. You're not him anyway, and we both know how limited our resources are."
"But I'm like him. And for all our efforts, and I'm not talking just about us two here, we still might end up having to resort to such choices. I would never blame you for this, Hermione, but you simply came here too late to make this conflict painless."
She cast a quick glance at Dumbledore, catching him just as focused on those flames as she was a moment earlier. And she let her eyes find those flames again.
"And I'm like you now, Headmaster. I've been through war and death and torture and more. I'm still damaged but I do understand how life and love and compassion are to be treasured. I don't hate your other self for making me a child soldier, one of many to boot. I know he did it because by the time Harry was born, it was the least horrible choice available. I would have made similar choices and accepted the burden on my soul too, because doing otherwise would cause even more suffering. Naive optimists who think that there's always a way have never fought a real and desperate war against people who think genocide is a great idea."
Yes, it might have been the cold, slowly going away but still permeating her body, that helped make her this gloomy. But there was truth to her words and Dumbledore's voice somehow managed to become soothing.
"I still think my other self managed to maintain his humanity, Hermione, at least based on what you've told me. And I have no doubts about you in this regard."
This time, she managed to tear her gaze away from the fireplace and look into Dumbledore's eyes. With her Occlumency barriers up, of course, because such habits never really go away, but with no fear of him in her mind.
"He did. I spent a lot of time talking to his portrait after the war. He had a good idea of what would happen and arranged for the portrait to stay safe and to explain everything to us once the war was over. And unless this reality is even worse than mine was, I would say he downplayed the obstacles he faced. Do I really have to remind you of what the Wizengamot managed just last week?"
"Not unless you wish to tempt me into snapping and turning some of them into extremely unkissable frogs, Hermione. And speaking of Wizengamot... You still plan to accept Miss Black's invitation?"
The jump from politics to Andy was probably linked to Andy's father but Hermione was too tired to waste energy on trying to think about all of Dumbledore's political concerns in that matter.
"Yes. I'll keep my head down and my barriers up. But I have to go, this isn't just about being Andy's friend. Andy never slipped in my timeline and she's a better Occlumens here now but I might have unintentionally helped her become a bit too happy a bit too early. Her sisters alone might not be enough to save her should something go sideways. I do feel Bellatrix might be getting a bit less fanatical but I would never bet Andy's life on it yet."
****
The pain... helped. It helped Bella focus on the now, instead of torturing herself with imagining her future. Yes, she was bleeding, but the blood was hitting the silver tray, not the floor, so no alarm would activate and yes, the pain was more intense than usual, but it made the visions of Rod's weight on her body disappear.
Of course those weren't true Visions. She was no Seer. She knew it was just her stupid brain, not her magic, conjuring the images of the hell awaiting her once she got married. The only people she could imagine herself happy to make love with were some witches while Rodolphus was a vile beast who was worse than some Muggle men might be, except she couldn't avoid that fate because she did have to bear children like a proper wife. And he was cruel and smart enough to never go so far she would be justified in killing him. Running away would make Andy his new bride. A No would simply...
She picked up her dagger again and went back to adding embellishing cuts to the letters on her forearm, old habits making sure she would not carve anything of magical significance. No deep cuts now, just lots of small shallow ones, to make the pain even worse without requiring healing too soon. After all, the second cut into a newly healed skin was always the hardest to make and those were the moments when her stupid brain was most likely to make her think about-
The door to the library began to open and Bella almost froze for a moment. It was long past midnight and *nobody* ever got close to walking in on her before! She *knew* her family and she wasn't *that* distracted, was she?
Hermione Granger, in pajamas that would have made Bella want to take them off her on any other night, *wasn't* looking into the book in her hand. There was no time for Bella to hide her dagger and the bloodied tray with medical supplies and heal herself and come up with a cover story. So she just steeled herself for what might happen and took initiative.
"Couldn't sleep either, Hermione?"
There was no response at first, just a horrified look on Hermione's face as her gaze flicked between Bella's bleeding arm and the dagger in Bella's other hand.
"Don't worry, nothing a simple Episkey couldn't heal, even if I don't think you'd believe me if I said I'm just practicing that."
Hermione's voice came out laden with such a mixture of emotions the only thing clear was that her ability to hide her feelings has failed.
"You're carvings runes into your own forearm?!? With a cursed dagger?!?"
"It's not runes, I'm not stupid! And the dagger's not cursed!"
And before her more sensible brain cells could stop her, Bella's instincts made her show her forearm to Hermione, the words "STUPID DYKE" finally visible enough for Hermione to read them. It was as if something inside Hermione clicked, then Bella's mind froze for a moment when she realized how stupid calling herself not stupid would seem given the situation, and that brain hiccup gave Hermione time to close their distance and do her best to hug Bella.
"There's nothing stupid about being a lesbian, Bellatrix!"
It took all of Bella's willpower to not melt into that hug, the only thing preventing her from doing so being the knowledge that even a single drop of her blood hitting the floor could activate alarm wards and wake her parents. Hermione's embrace was warm and caring and comforting and her scent made Bella breathe in and do her best to lean into that embrace as much as she could. The next second Hermione tensed, almost twitched as if in panic, and even though she calmed down after a few heartbeats, to a point where she managed to put down the book she came in with, some of that tension remained and Bella realized why it might be the case.
"Don't worry, you didn't just insult a Noble House."
Hermione's answer was a whisper that still managed to sound like a shout.
"How can you be this calm?!? You're carving insults into your own arm! What made you do this, Bellatrix?!?"
A part of Bella knew she should disentangle herself from Hermione, heal her arm and come up with a believable explanation. But the way Hermione held onto her, projecting comfort and support and care, broke through Bella's defenses.
"Can you cast an Episkey?"
Hermione didn't answer, she simply drew her wand and used wordless magic, making nearly all of Bella's physical pain go away and vanishing the blood. Her fear of setting off alarms also going away, Bella relaxed a bit and put her right hand behind her back, to put her dagger down without having to leave Hermione's arms. And Hermione's voice, still whispering but much calmer, was devastatingly soothing.
"Take your time, you don't have to explain anything about this to me, Bellatrix."
It didn't sound like bait. It sounded genuine, as if Hermione already *understood* the situation, as if she *knew* what being crushed by family obligations in this fashion feels like. After all, Bella knew that Hermione was attracted to witches more often than to wizards, so she had to have an inkling of what Bella must feel. And even though Bella's brain was in no condition to come up with cunning plans that would take advantage of the situation, her heart saw an opportunity to unburden itself without pushing that burden onto one of her sisters. Bella's arms, finally free to move, returned Hermione's embrace.
"I don't want to marry Rodolphus, Hermione. I know I have to and I will but Gods, the idea makes my insides twist and my skin crawl. The cuts-"
She wanted to say that the cuts hurt but hurt less than the painful visions of being his wife. But she only managed to form the rough idea before an image of Rodolphus pinning her to bed flooded her mind once again and made her struggle in Hermione's arms for a second. She felt Hermione's arms let go of her and the surprise made her pause and gasp and a fresh dose of Hermione's scent hit her senses and brought her back into reality. Her arms went back to pulling Hermione into her.
"Sorry… I… I can't stop thinking about him and the pain… helps those thoughts go away."
A part of her knew she should regain control, push Hermione back out of her intimate zone and stop showing these vulnerable spots, no matter how much Hermione knew already. Years of being a Black and a Slytherin were helping Bella's mind rein in at least some of her emotions. The feeling of being lucky the only place in the whole mansion where her distant ancestors used to punish their children and so the wards were set up to not bother Black parents about their children's minor wounds – if one is careful about blood drops – was a place Hermione could walk in on her wasn't enough to make Bella forget her upbringing. A second later, Hemione's words and the conviction Bella felt in those words hurled her emotions back into absolute turmoil.
"I'll find a way for you to avoid that marriage, Bellatrix."
Of course she couldn't. But there was so much certainty in those words that at least for a few moments, Bella's heart could hope for the impossible to happen.
"How?"
She couldn't manage more than that single word. And there was so much disbelief in her voice that Bella felt a flash of panic flood her body when she realized how insulting she might sound to Hermione. But the first response she got was a soothing hand along her spine and her body began to relax a bit.
"Either of us is smarter than your Father and Rodolphus combined, Bellatrix. We'll find a way."
"Really? And why would you do that? "
And there it was, the barely-perceptible stiffening of some of Hermione's muscles that told Bella she was about to get lied to. Two, three, four seconds of silence. And then a surprise.
"I can't risk telling you the whole truth, Bellatrix."
Hermione's voice was too adult, too controlled, too this-goes-beyond-the-value-of-your-life serious to be just a way for her to hide her words having been merciful lies. And Bella became all too aware of how Hermione was also a combat veteran who spends a lot of time outside Hogwarts and who might be hiding a Dark Mark on her arm. The reality of what she might have stumbled into poured ice-cold water onto Bella's emotions and she slowly and gently began to leave Hermione's arms. She didn't want to, Hermione felt as safe as her sisters, so she briefly rested her forehead on Hermione's shoulder before she extricated herself and then let the fingers of her left hand slide along Hermione's arm, hoping to end up holding her hand – and then feeling happy when it happened – but she really needed a bit of a distance between them to be able to think.
"Is there anything you *can* tell me?"
"I do believe that nobody should be forced into a marriage, Bellatrix. I do know that that is how Noble families work – but I don't have to agree with it. And while the system does help maintain blood purity, simply limiting your options to pure-bloods of your choice would accomplish the same biological goal. Or you could adopt some pure-blood child."
"Neither wouldn't accomplish the political goals, even though I have to admit you don't have to care about those."
Bella took a sideways glance at Hermione and saw her lips twitch as if amused by the notion of her not caring about politics. Hermione's voice, however, still sounded fit for a personal debate, not a diplomatic one.
"And what would be the political ramifications of you falling apart a few months or years into your marriage, Bellatrix? If you really are a lesbian, and feeling so bad about that marriage that you're carving insults into your skin already, what would it actually happening do to you?"
Well, there were centuries of tradition and legacy to draw upon. She'd just have to keep on convincing herself about the sentiment Hermione obviously wasn't that used to.
"I'm a Black, a daughter of a Noble family. I'd manage."
Hermione sighed.
"Look, I can't really *push* you into fighting for what's best for you, Bellatrix. But if you ever do decide to fight for yourself, instead of doing what others tell you is required of you, I'm willing to help. There would be a price to pay, of course, because you would have to defy some of your Father's wishes, but I have to say that it looks to me like following his wishes costs you a lot too. So you don't get to decide whether to pay, you only get to decide which price is worse."
Bella first felt, then saw Hermione move back towards her, to stop in front of her and almost as close as if they were lovers.
"I can't imagine you happy with a husband, Bellatrix, but I can imagine you happy with a witch. You just have to find one you'd defy your father for."