mickume/harry_potter_tiny · Datasets at Hugging Face

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"It’s fine," Bellatrix said.
"It’s not," Hermione assured. "But I’ll try to be better and––"
"Stop worrying. I said it’s fine, so it’s fine," Bellatrix said. Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but before she could get a word out, Bellatrix interjected, "Are you going to this supper thing?"
"Oh. With Professor Slughorn?" She asked. Bellatrix only raised an eyebrow to ask what other supper. "I don’t know," Hermione admitted. "Harry’s not going...."
"Ginny is," Bellatrix said. "May as well show our solidarity."
Hermione agreed. They returned to the Common Room, changing into more presentable attire than the casual wear Hermione usually wore on the weekends. Hermione wore a nice top with her trousers, whereas Bellatrix only placed her leather jacket over the outfit she already wore.
"How are you finding muggle clothes?" Hermione asked.
"I like the pants," Bellatrix admitted. "And the jackets are better. They don’t tangle as much as robes." Hermione softened at the comment.
"So muggles aren’t the worst at clothes?" Hermione asked, trying to lead Bellatrix to the point she was considering. Bellatrix’s nose scrunched up.
"I don’t know about that. Dumbledore’s outfit was a bit much for me."
Hermione burst into laughter at the comment. She couldn’t deny that.
They headed to the Supper, where other students had already arrived and made their introductions. According to Ginny, Slughorn’s supper event was similar to what he hosted on the train. Aside from herself, Bellatrix and Ginny, the other attendants included Cormac McLaggen, who was still wearing off the confundus charm Hermione had cast upon him, Blaise Zabini and Melinda Bobbin from Hufflepuff.
Gryffindor made up for the most attendees, though Hermione suspected that a few people would have made up an excuse to escape the supper.
Most of the other attendees were standing around the table set out with tea and cakes. After making herself a cup of tea and taking a plate with a smaller coffee cake, Hermione took a seat on the lounge. Bellatrix and Ginny took their place on either side of her, eating at their own plates.
Professor Slughorn introduced everyone, ensuring they knew one another before he began talking with Melinda Bobbins about her family’s apothecary business.
"Boring, as expected," Ginny hissed in her ear. "Though McLaggen’s checking you out."
Hermione looked to where Cormac was sitting in the armchair across from her. He offered her a smile before biting into his teacup. Embarrassed, he then looked away. Hermione flushed. She hadn’t meant to charm him so badly. It was meant to wear off after a few hours.
"You know," Bellatrix whispered beside her, and Hermione felt as if the room grew to be too hot as she felt the whisper against her ear. "McLaggen looks as though he’s been charmed. You wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you, Hermione?"
Hermione felt the anxiety flip inside of her as she grew warm. "What do you mean?" She squeaked.
Bellatrix grinned, her eyes sparkling as she stared too close. "Have I been a bad influence on you?"
She was teasing, yet Hermione swallowed a hard lump as her teacup rattled on its saucer. Setting it down, she brushed her hands in her lap. "He has a temper," she whispered sharply, darting a quick look to Cormac to ensure he wasn’t listening to their conversation. "He’d have been terrible for the team! He’d never have listened to Harry."
"And it’s just a coincidence that your friend got picked instead? Don’t shy away from it. You did it for a friend. It was...very Slytherin of you."
Hermione clenched her jaw, folding her arms. The statement should have made her burn with anger, it should have annoyed her, and yet the pleasure Bellatrix derived from such a statement only gave Hermione a very odd, warm feeling. One she wasn’t accustomed to, personally, but was beginning to realise with horror may be related to...something complicated.
Something she wasn’t ready to face and therefore was going to shut down.
"I’m going to get more biscuits," she suddenly declared.
"Careful!" Ginny snapped as she knocked her elbow into her while standing up. "Mum will kill me if I stain this."
"Sorry!" Hermione squeaked, escaping to the other side of the room where she started a conversation with Melinda Bobbin, now that she was free from Slughorn, who had begun speaking with Blaise Zambini. Bellatrix hadn’t seemed to mind Hermione's sudden departure and had moved to talk with Ginny, but Hermione felt the strange current of emotions tumble through her. Hermione knew she should do something about this, but whatever this was, she was uncertain.
That evening, she lay awake thinking about it until morning when she got up, had breakfast and then departed for Hagrid's Hut. She hadn’t wanted anyone else to be here and, as such, had avoided telling anyone what she was doing as she sat on the couch. Last night, she had laid awake, wondering if Bellatrix knew and then decided that no, the witch didn’t because if she did, she probably would have been repulsed at the idea of...
"What’s got you "ere, "Mione?" Hagrid asked as he set the teacups town and politely offered some of his baking, which Hermione politely declined as she took the teacup.
"I heard Aragog was unwell," Hermione said. "I know he was important to you."
Hagrid gave a soft smile, sniffing as he shifted in his chair. "Sweet of yer," he said. "There’s nothin’ to be done, though," he said. "Time’s up."
"He’s lived a long life," Hermione assured. "That’s a testament to your care for him."
"It’s still hard to see...friends go," Hermione said, covering her expression with a sip of tea as Hagrid began to cry before he took a few deep breaths and calmed down. "How do you make friends with such creatures?" Hermione asked. "Dragons...acromantulas...most people would be too afraid to see them as friends."
"Yer shouldn’ judge a book. What me dad always told me."
Hermione bit back her sigh. She had hoped for better advice, though she supposed that Hagrid’s father had fallen for some giant woman and maybe befriending frightening things was just...part of their genetic make-up. "But what if...weren’t you ever scared?" Hermione prompted. "That they might hurt you. Acromantulas aren’t known for their loyalty. Aragog could have decided you would make better food, and I know he didn’t, but you didn’t know that...did you?"
Hagrid paused at the question, thinking about it. "I mean, I "spose," he said. "But yeh shouldn’ live in fear of what might be. Should be livin’ at the moment and trustin’ that they’re not lyin’ to you. Not your fault if they are. Reflects on them more so. And look! I had a great friend for many a year. Don’t regret a moment." And then he paused. "cept of course when he tried to eat "arry and Ron. But he just didn’ know "em very well."
Hermione gave a small smile, looking down at her cup. Perhaps there was some advice to it all.
"Now, wha’ all this about? Is it ye’ new friend?"
Hermione bit her lip. "No," she lied. "But how is Bella doing in classes?"
"Good. She is a bit cold at first, but she seems to like the cù-sìth pup. Think she migh’ try and steal one," he said, joking as he gave a laugh. Hermione offered a tight smile in response.
Of course, Bellatrix liked a terrifying hunting dog. Hermione knew that a cù-sìth pup didn’t have a literal death-inflicting bark just yet. They wouldn’t develop one until they were over a year old. But the pup bark itself could still inflict fear.
Bellatrix probably found it fascinating in a grim sense.
"Why the long face?" Hagrid asked. "I know Harry and Ron are bein’...distant. But you know they care for you. They’re just jealous of your new friend."
Hermione was begging to become sick of people telling her that Harry and Ron were jealous. "Didn’t you ever wish Aragog would change?" Hermione asked. "That he wouldn’t...eat people?"
"Course," Hagrid said. "Aragog didn’ people that I know of. A few...anyway, it doesn’ matter. You gotta understand somethin’ nature. You can’t make yeh cat a vegetarian because you don't like it eating meat."
"Yes, but..." Hermione trailed off, realising that it was hopeless. She wasn’t comparing something like a diet that was necessary for survival. She was thinking about how someone as complicated as Bellatrix tended to enjoy hitting bludgers at people and believing that muggles were less deserving than wizards. If Hermione found herself liking a person like that, what did that say about her? Accepting that was...wrong. "I don’t know. I just think people should try and be kind. Is that so much to ask?"
"No," Hagrid said. "Yeh good people, "Mione. Kind. They’ll come round and see you were right. They always do."
Hermione knew that Hagrid meant Ron and Harry, but it was nice to pretend that he meant Bellatrix for a moment.
After all, if Sirius could become who he was, despite his family, then...
And there, Hermione had an idea.
Hermione had started and scrapped a half dozen letters before a familiar dark-haired witch stumbled across her. "Someone might think you’re avoiding me," she said, causing Hermione to yelp as she grabbed the page to her chest.
It had the unfortunate effect of pressing wet ink to her shirt. Bellatrix laughed as she came and leaned against the window of the owlery. "You know, if you’re struggling to write a letter, why don’t you do it somewhere that isn’t covered in filth?"
Hermione magicked the stain away, fixing her shirt as she set her ink and quill away. She didn’t want to admit that she’d come to the owlery to do it far from Bellatrix’s eyes. With all the attempts, she couldn’t manage anything past salutations to Sirius and a quick I hope you’re doing well, which seemed...lacklustre, if anything.
"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked. "I thought you and Ginny would get some quidditch practice in?"
"We did," Bellatrix grinned. "Smashed her off the broom a half-dozen times––don’t worry, she’s fine, and she takes a beating well. I think she even likes it a bit," she said, raising her brow provocatively.
Hermione felt a familiar bitterness rise as she turned away. "You shouldn’t say things like that."
"Like what? Sexual things? If they make you feel awkward, I’ll stop." Hermione bit her tongue, a familiar rush of relief and loss fluttering through her as she avoided the witch’s eye. "Is it because you’re a virgin?"
"Why would you say that?" Hermione asked, her face growing hot. Of course, Bellatrix would tease her about something like that. Suddenly, all the questions she had for Sirius evaporated, and all she was left was looking at a witch who seemed remarkably like Pansy Parkinson all of a sudden.
Bellatrix shrugged. "To get a reaction, which I did, so I win."
Hermione grabbed her things, feeling the humiliation burn through her. "Sure. Well, you win," she said dryly, pulling away as she went to leave.
"Wait, stop," Bellatrix said, grabbing at her arm. "Sorry, I thought you’d take the joke."
"The joke. What joke is there, Bella? Is it funny to you that you hurt me? Does it make you laugh when I’m––"
"No. Not hurt," she admitted having the decency to at least look ashamed of herself. "I wasn’t trying to...." The witch looked aside then, turning out towards the scenery of the landscape. "I’m sorry."
"If you weren’t trying to hurt me, what were you trying to do?" Hermione asked.
Bellatrix shrugged, giving her a non-committal sound. "Does it matter?"
Hermione sighed. "I don’t appreciate being made fun of. Especially by my friends."
Bellatrix tapped at the window before turning to look at her. "I wanted to make you...rile you up a bit. Like when we duel."
Hermione felt warm again as she hugged the books to her chest. Something fluttered in her chest again. "So you were just teasing me."
"You could say that," Bellatrix said, and her face softened again. "Ginny and I spoke with Professor Flitwick yesterday. He’s happy to sign us for a duelling club if you agree to supervise us. We need to get a few more kids to reach the quota, but I doubt that will be hard."
"Isn’t that a bit much?" Hermione asked. "Doing Quidditch, NEWT levels and duelling?"
Bellatrix shrugged. "It’s just practice for defence in the end, isn’t it?" She asked. "Throw in a few charms and that’s two classes homework."
Hermione shifted on her feet, thinking it over. "I’m still mad at you."
"I’ll make it up to you," Bellatrix promised. "Besides, you like me too much. Why else would you stick around with a reknown death––"
"Shh," Hermione said, dropping her books as she grabbed at Bellatrix’s mouth, pressing the witch against the wall of the owlery. "I don’t care that it’s a joke. You can’t say those things around here. If someone overheard, they wouldn’t know the context or...God they could work out the context and where would we be!" Hermione said, her hand still covering the witch’s mouth. "Promise me you won’t make a joke like that. Please. If someone works out who you are, you could get thrown into Azkaban."
Bellatrix’s eyes darkened, and slowly Hermione dropped her hand. "You care about me that much, huh?"
"Of course, you idiot!" Hermione said. "So if you’re so fixated on not hurting me, don’t say stupid things like that where anyone could hear."
"Fine," Bellatrix said, and then she grabbed at Hermione’s wrists, holding her close before she could pull away. There, caught in the witch’s grip, Hermione became suddenly aware of their proximity. "But you have to promise me to supervise our new duelling club. You can even name it."
Hermione paused. She could see the witch’s hands wrapped around her wrists. Bellatrix had charmed her nails with a dark matte colour, and all Hermione could focus on was how warm the fingers were against her skin and how she really needed to not squeak out her answer like some mouse caught in the cat’s claws.
"Okay," she agreed, her voice higher than normal but at least not a squeak. "I’ll supervise."
"And participate," Bellatrix said, leaning closer. "After all, it’s all good practice."
Hermione nodded.
"Good girl," she said, and her lips pressed against Hermione’s cheek before she let go, stepping away.
Hermione stumbled back, dumbfounded, as she felt the burn of the woman’s mouth against her cheek and looked to where Bellatrix was tying a letter to one of the school’s owls.
It took a few stunned moments before Hermione grabbed her books and cleaned the muck off them before she could find her voice. "Who are you sending a letter to?"
"Splinter and Kreek. I want to get a rundown of the costs of a good secondhand broom. The school’s ones are shit, and I’d like something a bit smoother than the Comet. And before you ask, yes, I’m allowed to use the Hogwarts scholarship money on it. I already checked with Hooch."
Hermione stood, quiet as she Bellatrix affixed the letter before watching the tawny owl fly off. A familiar, warm feeling was sitting low in her belly as she looked at Bellatrix.
Even if, in the briefest possibility, Bellatrix did like her, what would their future even be? It would be built on a lie of Bellatrix pretending to be someone she wasn’t. Hermione was better off trying to pursue something with Viktor again, even though he was off playing professional Quidditch for Bulgaria.
Late in the Gryffindor Common Room, Ginny sat on the floor beside Hermione's studying and leaned back. "Asked Dean out to Hogsmeade," she said as her way of introduction.
"Is that the kid that blows things up?" Bellatrix asked.
"Nah, that’s Seamus. Dean’s his best mate."
Bellatrix nodded, looking over to the corner of the common room where Dean was. "Did you get him to sign up for the duelling club?"
Ginny sat up, looking at Hermione, "Did you agree to supervise?"
Hermione shifted her notes aside. "I did," she said, trying to ignore the memory of Bellatrix’s lips pressing against her cheek. "Do you know who would join?"
"Luna will. Neville won’t. I already asked him," Ginny said with a frown, looking up at Bellatrix. "He’s a bit scared of you, I think."
"We could get Cormac," Bellatrix said. "He has a thing for Hermione."
Hermione snapped her head up, looking to where Cormac sat on the lounge with a few of his mates. "He does not," she said. But Cormac caught her eye and smiled, offering a wave. It wasn’t...entirely out of the realms of possibility. She gave a quick smile before looking away. "And anyway, he’s a sore loser. Not the best thing for a duelling club."
Ginny turned to look at Hermione, her brows raised. "I think you ask him. We could do with some people until word gets out. A club has seven members to be signed up, and we only have a few days before the semester sign-up expires. If he’s such a sore loser, he’ll probably quit when we’ve got enough."
"Besides, you promised to help," Bellatrix reminded, waving her quill in Hermione’s direction. "So if you want to name the club, you must help recruit others. Is there anyone else you could think of?"
Harry and Ron wouldn’t join. Hermione knew that. But there were always other students who could use the practice for DADA, she thought. Especially if they framed it as a duelling club, some of the Ravenclaws would use it as a way to gain favour with Professor Flitwick. "I’ll ask around," she said. "But if we need the last number, I’ll ask Cormac."
As it was, they did. They managed to only rope in Luna, Dean and Seamus. Everyone else was uninterested in placing their name down on the sign-up sheet for one reason or another, so later in the week, Hermione went to Cormac and asked if he would be interested.

"It’s fine," Bellatrix said.

"It’s not," Hermione assured. "But I’ll try to be better and––"

"Stop worrying. I said it’s fine, so it’s fine," Bellatrix said. Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but before she could get a word out, Bellatrix interjected, "Are you going to this supper thing?"

"Oh. With Professor Slughorn?" She asked. Bellatrix only raised an eyebrow to ask what other supper. "I don’t know," Hermione admitted. "Harry’s not going...."

"Ginny is," Bellatrix said. "May as well show our solidarity."

Hermione agreed. They returned to the Common Room, changing into more presentable attire than the casual wear Hermione usually wore on the weekends. Hermione wore a nice top with her trousers, whereas Bellatrix only placed her leather jacket over the outfit she already wore.

"How are you finding muggle clothes?" Hermione asked.

"I like the pants," Bellatrix admitted. "And the jackets are better. They don’t tangle as much as robes." Hermione softened at the comment.

"So muggles aren’t the worst at clothes?" Hermione asked, trying to lead Bellatrix to the point she was considering. Bellatrix’s nose scrunched up.

"I don’t know about that. Dumbledore’s outfit was a bit much for me."

Hermione burst into laughter at the comment. She couldn’t deny that.

They headed to the Supper, where other students had already arrived and made their introductions. According to Ginny, Slughorn’s supper event was similar to what he hosted on the train. Aside from herself, Bellatrix and Ginny, the other attendants included Cormac McLaggen, who was still wearing off the confundus charm Hermione had cast upon him, Blaise Zabini and Melinda Bobbin from Hufflepuff.

Gryffindor made up for the most attendees, though Hermione suspected that a few people would have made up an excuse to escape the supper.

Most of the other attendees were standing around the table set out with tea and cakes. After making herself a cup of tea and taking a plate with a smaller coffee cake, Hermione took a seat on the lounge. Bellatrix and Ginny took their place on either side of her, eating at their own plates.

Professor Slughorn introduced everyone, ensuring they knew one another before he began talking with Melinda Bobbins about her family’s apothecary business.

"Boring, as expected," Ginny hissed in her ear. "Though McLaggen’s checking you out."

Hermione looked to where Cormac was sitting in the armchair across from her. He offered her a smile before biting into his teacup. Embarrassed, he then looked away. Hermione flushed. She hadn’t meant to charm him so badly. It was meant to wear off after a few hours.

"You know," Bellatrix whispered beside her, and Hermione felt as if the room grew to be too hot as she felt the whisper against her ear. "McLaggen looks as though he’s been charmed. You wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you, Hermione?"

Hermione felt the anxiety flip inside of her as she grew warm. "What do you mean?" She squeaked.

Bellatrix grinned, her eyes sparkling as she stared too close. "Have I been a bad influence on you?"

She was teasing, yet Hermione swallowed a hard lump as her teacup rattled on its saucer. Setting it down, she brushed her hands in her lap. "He has a temper," she whispered sharply, darting a quick look to Cormac to ensure he wasn’t listening to their conversation. "He’d have been terrible for the team! He’d never have listened to Harry."

"And it’s just a coincidence that your friend got picked instead? Don’t shy away from it. You did it for a friend. It was...very Slytherin of you."

Hermione clenched her jaw, folding her arms. The statement should have made her burn with anger, it should have annoyed her, and yet the pleasure Bellatrix derived from such a statement only gave Hermione a very odd, warm feeling. One she wasn’t accustomed to, personally, but was beginning to realise with horror may be related to...something complicated.

Something she wasn’t ready to face and therefore was going to shut down.

"I’m going to get more biscuits," she suddenly declared.

"Careful!" Ginny snapped as she knocked her elbow into her while standing up. "Mum will kill me if I stain this."

"Sorry!" Hermione squeaked, escaping to the other side of the room where she started a conversation with Melinda Bobbin, now that she was free from Slughorn, who had begun speaking with Blaise Zambini. Bellatrix hadn’t seemed to mind Hermione's sudden departure and had moved to talk with Ginny, but Hermione felt the strange current of emotions tumble through her. Hermione knew she should do something about this, but whatever this was, she was uncertain.

That evening, she lay awake thinking about it until morning when she got up, had breakfast and then departed for Hagrid's Hut. She hadn’t wanted anyone else to be here and, as such, had avoided telling anyone what she was doing as she sat on the couch. Last night, she had laid awake, wondering if Bellatrix knew and then decided that no, the witch didn’t because if she did, she probably would have been repulsed at the idea of...

"What’s got you "ere, "Mione?" Hagrid asked as he set the teacups town and politely offered some of his baking, which Hermione politely declined as she took the teacup.

"I heard Aragog was unwell," Hermione said. "I know he was important to you."

Hagrid gave a soft smile, sniffing as he shifted in his chair. "Sweet of yer," he said. "There’s nothin’ to be done, though," he said. "Time’s up."

"He’s lived a long life," Hermione assured. "That’s a testament to your care for him."

"It’s still hard to see...friends go," Hermione said, covering her expression with a sip of tea as Hagrid began to cry before he took a few deep breaths and calmed down. "How do you make friends with such creatures?" Hermione asked. "Dragons...acromantulas...most people would be too afraid to see them as friends."

"Yer shouldn’ judge a book. What me dad always told me."

Hermione bit back her sigh. She had hoped for better advice, though she supposed that Hagrid’s father had fallen for some giant woman and maybe befriending frightening things was just...part of their genetic make-up. "But what if...weren’t you ever scared?" Hermione prompted. "That they might hurt you. Acromantulas aren’t known for their loyalty. Aragog could have decided you would make better food, and I know he didn’t, but you didn’t know that...did you?"

Hagrid paused at the question, thinking about it. "I mean, I "spose," he said. "But yeh shouldn’ live in fear of what might be. Should be livin’ at the moment and trustin’ that they’re not lyin’ to you. Not your fault if they are. Reflects on them more so. And look! I had a great friend for many a year. Don’t regret a moment." And then he paused. "cept of course when he tried to eat "arry and Ron. But he just didn’ know "em very well."

Hermione gave a small smile, looking down at her cup. Perhaps there was some advice to it all.

"Now, wha’ all this about? Is it ye’ new friend?"

Hermione bit her lip. "No," she lied. "But how is Bella doing in classes?"

"Good. She is a bit cold at first, but she seems to like the cù-sìth pup. Think she migh’ try and steal one," he said, joking as he gave a laugh. Hermione offered a tight smile in response.

Of course, Bellatrix liked a terrifying hunting dog. Hermione knew that a cù-sìth pup didn’t have a literal death-inflicting bark just yet. They wouldn’t develop one until they were over a year old. But the pup bark itself could still inflict fear.

Bellatrix probably found it fascinating in a grim sense.

"Why the long face?" Hagrid asked. "I know Harry and Ron are bein’...distant. But you know they care for you. They’re just jealous of your new friend."

Hermione was begging to become sick of people telling her that Harry and Ron were jealous. "Didn’t you ever wish Aragog would change?" Hermione asked. "That he wouldn’t...eat people?"

"Course," Hagrid said. "Aragog didn’ people that I know of. A few...anyway, it doesn’ matter. You gotta understand somethin’ nature. You can’t make yeh cat a vegetarian because you don't like it eating meat."

"Yes, but..." Hermione trailed off, realising that it was hopeless. She wasn’t comparing something like a diet that was necessary for survival. She was thinking about how someone as complicated as Bellatrix tended to enjoy hitting bludgers at people and believing that muggles were less deserving than wizards. If Hermione found herself liking a person like that, what did that say about her? Accepting that was...wrong. "I don’t know. I just think people should try and be kind. Is that so much to ask?"

"No," Hagrid said. "Yeh good people, "Mione. Kind. They’ll come round and see you were right. They always do."

Hermione knew that Hagrid meant Ron and Harry, but it was nice to pretend that he meant Bellatrix for a moment.

After all, if Sirius could become who he was, despite his family, then...

And there, Hermione had an idea.

Hermione had started and scrapped a half dozen letters before a familiar dark-haired witch stumbled across her. "Someone might think you’re avoiding me," she said, causing Hermione to yelp as she grabbed the page to her chest.

It had the unfortunate effect of pressing wet ink to her shirt. Bellatrix laughed as she came and leaned against the window of the owlery. "You know, if you’re struggling to write a letter, why don’t you do it somewhere that isn’t covered in filth?"

Hermione magicked the stain away, fixing her shirt as she set her ink and quill away. She didn’t want to admit that she’d come to the owlery to do it far from Bellatrix’s eyes. With all the attempts, she couldn’t manage anything past salutations to Sirius and a quick I hope you’re doing well, which seemed...lacklustre, if anything.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked. "I thought you and Ginny would get some quidditch practice in?"

"We did," Bellatrix grinned. "Smashed her off the broom a half-dozen times––don’t worry, she’s fine, and she takes a beating well. I think she even likes it a bit," she said, raising her brow provocatively.

Hermione felt a familiar bitterness rise as she turned away. "You shouldn’t say things like that."

"Like what? Sexual things? If they make you feel awkward, I’ll stop." Hermione bit her tongue, a familiar rush of relief and loss fluttering through her as she avoided the witch’s eye. "Is it because you’re a virgin?"

"Why would you say that?" Hermione asked, her face growing hot. Of course, Bellatrix would tease her about something like that. Suddenly, all the questions she had for Sirius evaporated, and all she was left was looking at a witch who seemed remarkably like Pansy Parkinson all of a sudden.

Bellatrix shrugged. "To get a reaction, which I did, so I win."

Hermione grabbed her things, feeling the humiliation burn through her. "Sure. Well, you win," she said dryly, pulling away as she went to leave.

"Wait, stop," Bellatrix said, grabbing at her arm. "Sorry, I thought you’d take the joke."

"The joke. What joke is there, Bella? Is it funny to you that you hurt me? Does it make you laugh when I’m––"

"No. Not hurt," she admitted having the decency to at least look ashamed of herself. "I wasn’t trying to...." The witch looked aside then, turning out towards the scenery of the landscape. "I’m sorry."

"If you weren’t trying to hurt me, what were you trying to do?" Hermione asked.

Bellatrix shrugged, giving her a non-committal sound. "Does it matter?"

Hermione sighed. "I don’t appreciate being made fun of. Especially by my friends."

Bellatrix tapped at the window before turning to look at her. "I wanted to make you...rile you up a bit. Like when we duel."

Hermione felt warm again as she hugged the books to her chest. Something fluttered in her chest again. "So you were just teasing me."

"You could say that," Bellatrix said, and her face softened again. "Ginny and I spoke with Professor Flitwick yesterday. He’s happy to sign us for a duelling club if you agree to supervise us. We need to get a few more kids to reach the quota, but I doubt that will be hard."

"Isn’t that a bit much?" Hermione asked. "Doing Quidditch, NEWT levels and duelling?"

Bellatrix shrugged. "It’s just practice for defence in the end, isn’t it?" She asked. "Throw in a few charms and that’s two classes homework."

Hermione shifted on her feet, thinking it over. "I’m still mad at you."

"I’ll make it up to you," Bellatrix promised. "Besides, you like me too much. Why else would you stick around with a reknown death––"

"Shh," Hermione said, dropping her books as she grabbed at Bellatrix’s mouth, pressing the witch against the wall of the owlery. "I don’t care that it’s a joke. You can’t say those things around here. If someone overheard, they wouldn’t know the context or...God they could work out the context and where would we be!" Hermione said, her hand still covering the witch’s mouth. "Promise me you won’t make a joke like that. Please. If someone works out who you are, you could get thrown into Azkaban."

Bellatrix’s eyes darkened, and slowly Hermione dropped her hand. "You care about me that much, huh?"

"Of course, you idiot!" Hermione said. "So if you’re so fixated on not hurting me, don’t say stupid things like that where anyone could hear."

"Fine," Bellatrix said, and then she grabbed at Hermione’s wrists, holding her close before she could pull away. There, caught in the witch’s grip, Hermione became suddenly aware of their proximity. "But you have to promise me to supervise our new duelling club. You can even name it."

Hermione paused. She could see the witch’s hands wrapped around her wrists. Bellatrix had charmed her nails with a dark matte colour, and all Hermione could focus on was how warm the fingers were against her skin and how she really needed to not squeak out her answer like some mouse caught in the cat’s claws.

"Okay," she agreed, her voice higher than normal but at least not a squeak. "I’ll supervise."

"And participate," Bellatrix said, leaning closer. "After all, it’s all good practice."

Hermione nodded.

"Good girl," she said, and her lips pressed against Hermione’s cheek before she let go, stepping away.

Hermione stumbled back, dumbfounded, as she felt the burn of the woman’s mouth against her cheek and looked to where Bellatrix was tying a letter to one of the school’s owls.

It took a few stunned moments before Hermione grabbed her books and cleaned the muck off them before she could find her voice. "Who are you sending a letter to?"

"Splinter and Kreek. I want to get a rundown of the costs of a good secondhand broom. The school’s ones are shit, and I’d like something a bit smoother than the Comet. And before you ask, yes, I’m allowed to use the Hogwarts scholarship money on it. I already checked with Hooch."

Hermione stood, quiet as she Bellatrix affixed the letter before watching the tawny owl fly off. A familiar, warm feeling was sitting low in her belly as she looked at Bellatrix.

Even if, in the briefest possibility, Bellatrix did like her, what would their future even be? It would be built on a lie of Bellatrix pretending to be someone she wasn’t. Hermione was better off trying to pursue something with Viktor again, even though he was off playing professional Quidditch for Bulgaria.

Late in the Gryffindor Common Room, Ginny sat on the floor beside Hermione's studying and leaned back. "Asked Dean out to Hogsmeade," she said as her way of introduction.

"Is that the kid that blows things up?" Bellatrix asked.

"Nah, that’s Seamus. Dean’s his best mate."

Bellatrix nodded, looking over to the corner of the common room where Dean was. "Did you get him to sign up for the duelling club?"

Ginny sat up, looking at Hermione, "Did you agree to supervise?"

Hermione shifted her notes aside. "I did," she said, trying to ignore the memory of Bellatrix’s lips pressing against her cheek. "Do you know who would join?"

"Luna will. Neville won’t. I already asked him," Ginny said with a frown, looking up at Bellatrix. "He’s a bit scared of you, I think."

"We could get Cormac," Bellatrix said. "He has a thing for Hermione."

Hermione snapped her head up, looking to where Cormac sat on the lounge with a few of his mates. "He does not," she said. But Cormac caught her eye and smiled, offering a wave. It wasn’t...entirely out of the realms of possibility. She gave a quick smile before looking away. "And anyway, he’s a sore loser. Not the best thing for a duelling club."

Ginny turned to look at Hermione, her brows raised. "I think you ask him. We could do with some people until word gets out. A club has seven members to be signed up, and we only have a few days before the semester sign-up expires. If he’s such a sore loser, he’ll probably quit when we’ve got enough."

"Besides, you promised to help," Bellatrix reminded, waving her quill in Hermione’s direction. "So if you want to name the club, you must help recruit others. Is there anyone else you could think of?"

Harry and Ron wouldn’t join. Hermione knew that. But there were always other students who could use the practice for DADA, she thought. Especially if they framed it as a duelling club, some of the Ravenclaws would use it as a way to gain favour with Professor Flitwick. "I’ll ask around," she said. "But if we need the last number, I’ll ask Cormac."

As it was, they did. They managed to only rope in Luna, Dean and Seamus. Everyone else was uninterested in placing their name down on the sign-up sheet for one reason or another, so later in the week, Hermione went to Cormac and asked if he would be interested.