mickume/harry_potter_tiny · Datasets at Hugging Face

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"Do you mind sharing with Hermione, Bella?" Jean asked. "Otherwise we can set you down here on the couch, but it probably won’t be as comfortable."
"The bedroom’s fine."
They spent their time after lunch moving everything across, before re-making the bed. Bellatrix didn’t seem to mind doing the laundry, though she used her magic for where she felt it was annoying—such as folding clothes and setting them away in the cupboards. She would help make the bed in a muggle way (though Hermione suspected she simply didn’t recall the charm to do it the magical way) and would prep food for the salad, but wiping benches and all the other stuff that involved getting something new out, Bellatrix would wave her wand and charm it clean.
Hermione would do the same, except for when it came to taking the trash out. Although she would prefer to magic it out, it was a risk that someone would see and grow suspicious. Overall, though, they seemed to fall into a comfortable pattern of sharing the space.
Hermione still was unhappy about Bellatrix’s thievery of the wand, but she’d let it pass. As so far, she hadn’t seen the witch use it and wondered briefly if it’d been charmed to return to Ollivanders when stolen, but as Hermione helped finish moving Bellatrix stuff across to her room, she saw the wand amongst the books Bellatrix carried across.
"Have you practiced with it much?" Hermione asked.
"No, but we can go and duel one of these days."
Hermione paused to think about when they could. Cathy was meant to be coming this evening, and the family was going out together tomorrow. But they could do it two days before they were returning to school. Usually Hermione spent the last few days in a fret that she was forgetting something, but it might be better if she actually left the house to practice their duelling.
"In three days," Hermione said, "We can go up and practice for a bit."
"What happens when we get to Hogwarts, will you want to stop practicing then?"
Hermione’s stomach twisted at that. She would be busy, she’d made a list of everything she needed to do, but learning to fight Death Eaters was on the list. Second, in fact. "We will. I can ask Professor McGonagall if we can use a spare classroom to practice. Or Professor Flitwick, he was once a master dueller. He even had a duelling club back when he was at school."
"Fascinating," Bellatrix said, not meaning it. "You should borrow my book, it has a few tricks about clearing your mind that would be useful," Bellatrix said.
Hermione frowned at the comment. "Why are you helping me?"
"Because you’re helping me," Bellatrix returned. "And if there is really a war, I’d like to think you’re going to be on the winning side, so you’ll need to survive it."
Hermione drank in the words, feeling a flutter in her chest before she looked away. "Thank you," she said. "I appreciate that you’re helping me. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful."
Bellatrix gave her an odd look, but whatever thought passed there, she didn’t seem to repeat, instead looking away.
Hermione’s nightmares hadn’t stopped. The first night Bellatrix stayed in the room with her, on a made-up bed by her desk, Hermione had hoped that she would have a rare, sleepless night, but her mind at other ideas. She dreamt of the Department of Mysteries, of standing before a strange veil listening to voices whispers as hands reached out for her. Hermione, Hermione, they called, reaching for her, Hermione, Hermione, Hermione! Their hands were on her shoulders, tugging her into the veil as she squirmed.
Jolting away, Hermione panted as she stared at a halo, only to see Bellatrix staring at her. All at once, Hermione recalled where she was, what had happened, and rather intrusively, recalled what Fred and George Weasley had stated.
"You were having a nightmare," Bellatrix advised, lowering her hands from Hermione’s shoulders.
"Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you."
"Do you have them every night?" Bellatrix asked.
Hermione paused, sitting up as she pulled back on the bed. She felt hot and cold all over, suddenly aware of how close Bellatrix was, how warm the woman’s body was. "Yeah, yeah, I do," Hermione said. "It’s fine. I tried to buy some Dreamless Draught ingredients at Diagon Alley, but they were all out of pixies cloves," she said. "Not that I should use that long term, anyway."
Bellatrix paused and then seemed to shift. "You can keep the light on if you need to," Bellatrix said.
"I might make myself a cup of tea. It’s been helping lately," she explained. "Would you like a cup?"
Bellatrix stared at her for a second before giving a stiff nod.
Shifting out of bed, she eased into her slippers and dressing gown before leading Bellatrix downstairs. The house was dark, and everyone was a. Asep upstairs as she turned the kitchen light on and began turning the electric kettle on before getting out cups and the chamomile her mother kept in the cupboard. "It’s a bit bitter," Hermione explained as she pulled out the honey. "But it’s a muscle relaxant. You could try it without honey first and then add it if you fancy it."
"Honey’s fine," Bellatrix said, her arms crossed as she leaned back against the counter. "What are your dreams about?"
To that, Hermione paused. The dreams were private, she hadn’t shared them with anyone, not even Harry or Ron, but slowly she looked at Bellatrix before turning back to fix the tea. "The Department of Mysteries, mostly," she admitted. "But sometimes it’s in the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts, or I’m entangled in Devil’s Snare, and no matter how much I try to relax, the vines are tightening around me."
Hermione stirred at the honey, feeling the echoes of the dream before she turned back. "It’s fine," she assured. "They’re dreams. They’re not real."
"But they’re based on what you experienced," Bellatrix said as Hermione handed her cup over. "You’re having nightmares of––"
"Shh," Hermione said, pausing as she listened for any movement from upstairs. Her parents were heavy sleepers, but if one of them or her Aunt Cathy awoken, she didn’t want them to overhear. "It doesn’t matter," she assured, looking at the witch. "What’s done is done; all I can do is move forward."
"Moving forward is easy when you don’t remember," Bellatrix said as she sipped at the tea.
"So I should obliviate myself?" Hermione scoffed.
"That’s not what I said."
Hermione paused, taking a deep breath before she looked away, "No, it wasn’t. But what did you mean by it?"
"That I have no advice to give," Bellatrix said. There was no joke or irony in her voice, yet Hermione nonetheless found herself laughing. Bellatrix smiled back, somehow understanding the humour Hermione saw. For a moment, it eased the pain left by the nightmare, allowing them to return back up to bed.
The following morning, true to her word, Hermione and Bellatrix left to practice duelling, though there was something off as they did. The Summer was cooling, and while it rained briefly on their way to Central, it had cleared up the time they were leaving the country. Still, throughout the trip, Hermione had a strange feeling itching at the back of her neck.
"Someone’s following us," Bellatrix whispered on the train as they ate their lunch. "I saw that man catch the bus with us."
Hermione turned, inconspicuously glancing to where Bellatrix nodded. Hermione didn’t recognise the person, but she agreed. Undoubtedly, a strangeness about them set her teeth on edge. "Let’s switch carriage," Hermione said, packing their bags.
They moved a few carriages across and didn’t notice anyone follow them. It didn’t stop Hermione from holding onto her wand. Some part of her believed that it could have been Tonks, but she knew that if it had been, Tonks would have made some effort to tell them off. Whoever it was, Hermione didn’t recognise them and didn’t like them.
When they exited their stop and walked through the town, Hermione looked at Bellatrix. "He could have been a Death Eater."
"That’s what I used to be, wasn’t it?" Bellatrix asked. "Dumbledore believes he’s tricked their so-called Dark Lord into believing I’ve been kidnapped by the Ministry."
Hermione frowned at the comment before looking away. "Dumbledore was upfront with you about his plans?" Hermione asked.
"No. I overheard him speaking with someone when he thought I was asleep. If I were him, I would ensure that no one person is aware of his plans but himself. It makes it easier to know the source of any leaks you may have."
Hermione nodded. It made sense. This was a war, and people would likely switch sides to ensure their survival. There were few people she trusted, but Dumbledore was one of them. Looking at Bellatrix, she wondered to herself how much she trusted her. Enough to allow her sanctuary in her home. Enough to be alone with her.
Her heart thudded in her chest.
There was quiet in the forest as they arrived to duel. Clearing the grounds, Bellatrix marked it with her new wand and held it up to face Hermione, smiling. "Do you need help riling up?" She asked.
Hermione scowled. "I’ll be fine," she assured.
"Should I dig up some insults to help?" The woman teased, her eyes lighting up. "Remind you of how fast I am and how slow you are in duelling?"
"I’ll be fine," Hermione repeated, her anger flaring.
Bellatrix grinned. They stood firmly facing one another before they bowed, Bellatrix’s low and mocking before she rose to her full height. Hermione didn’t want to lose, not this time. She wanted to show how far she’d come.
The spell bounced, and Hermione slung another quickly after it. Spell after spell flew from one to the another, bouncing off their shields and hitting against the trees, leaving scorch marks. Hermione dodged and ran, moving from their spot as they darted and wove through trees. Bellatrix was running after her, giving chase, and Hermione refused to let herself be the rabbit chased by the wolf.
She skidded behind a tree, slinking away and went to throw a spell at Bellatrix—and then another spell hit her, stunning her in the chest.
Hermione froze, certain she hadn’t seen Bellatrix’s wand fire...but it wasn’t. Bellatrix hadn’t seen her yet. She was stalking the trees, grinning as her cheeks grew red from the fight, her breath exhaling in the air.
Was it a wayward spell?
No. Hermione heard the leaves crunch beside her. A careful step as someone came up behind her. With the spell locking her, she heard them crouch next to her. "Mione. We’ve come to save you." Ronald. Damn the fool! Hermione wanted to scream as her friend grabbed her, releasing the spell. "Come on, Harry––"
"Arrgh!" Harry’s voice called. Hermione looked to the source of the sound and saw Harry frozen as Bellatrix began stepping through the foliage. "Let go of her!" Bellatrix said, her wand pointed at Ron. "Or next time, it won’t be a stunning spell."
"What did you do to Harry?" Ron demanded.
"A stunning spell, you foolish boy."
Ron held his wand at Bellatrix, tugging Hermione backwards with a painful jerk. Hermione shoved away, "let go of me!" She said, tugging out of his hand. "I don’t need rescuing!"
"She’s a maniac!" He snapped. "I’m not letting you––! "
"Ron, it’s fine," Hermione assured. "She’s not a threat."
"I saw her chasing you! How can you say she’s not a threat when I saw her!"
Bellatrix scoffed at the comment, and Hermione was uncertain if it was towards being referred to as not a threat or being a threat. Hermione shot her a glance and watched as Bellatrix gave a scowl before stepping away.
Looking back at Ron, Hermione glared at him. "Put your wand down. Now, Ronald."
"But Harry—!"
"Now," she demanded, her voice shifting into a growl. Ron flinched, dropping his wand arm down, though he didn’t place it away. Hermione ignored it, looking where Harry stood, frozen in the spell. For the moment, he was fine and at least able to listen. "Bellatrix is not a threat."
"But Harry and I saw you on the train. She’s trying to lure you out here to...to...", and then he stopped, arms folded as he glared at Bellatrix behind her. "To torture you. Why was she chasing you otherwise?"
"Because we were duelling."
"She’s teaching me to duel!" Hermione snapped. "Bella is my friend."
"A friend?" Ron snapped. "No, Harry and I are your friends. That woman is a mental nutcase. She tried to kill us!"
"That wasn’t her!" Hermione snapped back. "She’s not that woman. She’s had ample opportunity to kill me over the past few weeks and hasn’t. She’s been a good friend, thank you very much. And she was placed in my care by Dumbledore, so if either you or Harry, for that matter, have a problem with that, then take it up with him!"
"We have," Ron sniffed, his face shifting with anger. "Blimey, woman. What spell does she have you under?"
"Woman?" Hermione felt her fury boil over. "Listen here, Ronald Weasley, you and Harry can take yourselves back to your mother and explain what you’ve done, how you breached the safety of Harry in this time to come to my rescue when I didn’t ask for anything and am perfectly following Albus Dumbledore’s orders. Did you even think to write to me?"
Ron stood, fumbling before he muttered something about Bellatrix likely to sneak into her letters.
Turning around, Hermione stormed off to where Harry was frozen and undid the spell, watching as he tripped and fell to the ground. Helping him up, Hermione felt the anger simmer inside her as she looked at the two boys who were sheepishly beginning to look ashamed of themselves.
They had expected to be her hero, just as they had been all those years ago with the troll. Instead, they had been lectured for their stupidity. "Go home," she said, as gently as she could. "Don’t go rushing off. You’ll only put the Order in more danger chasing after you, and that’s not fair. We’re meant to trust Dumbledore."
Harry sighed, fixing himself up. "Sorry," he muttered before looking at Bellatrix and where she leant against the tree. "Do you really believe her?" He asked, his voice lowered. "It could be a ploy."
"A plot for what?" She asked. "What intel would I have? She’d better try to convince one of the other Orders members."
"She could be playing the long game."
Hermione frowned. "That woman you think she is, she didn’t have patience, Harry. But Bella’s not like that. She’s just a witch. Like Ginny or me."
"I saw her wand work," Harry said. "She’s faster than me."
"Yes, well...just because someone can beat you in a duel, Harry, it doesn’t make them a bad guy."
Harry didn’t look convinced, but after a few moments, he and Ron cleaned themselves up and left, looking somewhat embarrassed by the situation. Eventually, they admitted they’d used one of the Weasley Twins’ disguise kits to follow her and had only been doing it because they’d thought she was under the imperio spell.
Hermione went home that day with a soft appreciation for her friends for coming to her rescue despite what they’d been advised and a strong reminder to try and communicate first. At the very least, to raise their concerns with a trusting adult.
"Dumbledore bound us," Harry muttered. "Can’t even tell Sirius."
"If you don’t trust Dumbledore, then we have bigger problems," Hermione stressed. That, at least, seemed to give Harry something to think about for the rest of Summer.
On the train ride home, Bellatrix gave her a strange look.
"What?" Hermione asked.
"You said that we’re friends."
"We are, aren’t we?" Hermione asked.
Bellatrix’s mouth parted before she looked away.
Harry and Ron were dead. Their corpses lay still, staring up at her. Behind her, Hermione could hear the veil whispering, calling her name. She could feel its hands tugging at her, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the bodies. Harry's eyes stared up at her, his mouth parted as his skin grew grey, his body decomposing before her eyes as someone laughed, loud and raucous behind her until––
Gasping awake, Hermione sat up in bed, her chest heaving.
She felt hot and cold all over as she sat up and looked at the end of the bed. Bellatrix shifted, turning over to face her as she blinked slowly. "Nightmare?" She asked.
Hermione nodded. "Bad one," she admitted.
Bellatrix shifted, sitting up. "Do you want to make tea?"
No, Hermione shook her head. She felt too nauseous to eat or drink. All she could picture was Harry and Ron's eyes staring at her. It made her feel sick, knowing what had occurred.
Bellatrix rose, coming to sit on the side of her bed. Over the last week, Bellatrix had seemed different. Kinder, almost in how she spoke with Hermione. "What happened?" She asked.
Hermione paused, thinking about a lie she could tell, but it seemed easier to tell the truth. "I dreamt that Harry and Ron were dead. Someone was laughing behind me, and I think...I think it was...him," she said, whispering the last word.

"Do you mind sharing with Hermione, Bella?" Jean asked. "Otherwise we can set you down here on the couch, but it probably won’t be as comfortable."

"The bedroom’s fine."

They spent their time after lunch moving everything across, before re-making the bed. Bellatrix didn’t seem to mind doing the laundry, though she used her magic for where she felt it was annoying—such as folding clothes and setting them away in the cupboards. She would help make the bed in a muggle way (though Hermione suspected she simply didn’t recall the charm to do it the magical way) and would prep food for the salad, but wiping benches and all the other stuff that involved getting something new out, Bellatrix would wave her wand and charm it clean.

Hermione would do the same, except for when it came to taking the trash out. Although she would prefer to magic it out, it was a risk that someone would see and grow suspicious. Overall, though, they seemed to fall into a comfortable pattern of sharing the space.

Hermione still was unhappy about Bellatrix’s thievery of the wand, but she’d let it pass. As so far, she hadn’t seen the witch use it and wondered briefly if it’d been charmed to return to Ollivanders when stolen, but as Hermione helped finish moving Bellatrix stuff across to her room, she saw the wand amongst the books Bellatrix carried across.

"Have you practiced with it much?" Hermione asked.

"No, but we can go and duel one of these days."

Hermione paused to think about when they could. Cathy was meant to be coming this evening, and the family was going out together tomorrow. But they could do it two days before they were returning to school. Usually Hermione spent the last few days in a fret that she was forgetting something, but it might be better if she actually left the house to practice their duelling.

"In three days," Hermione said, "We can go up and practice for a bit."

"What happens when we get to Hogwarts, will you want to stop practicing then?"

Hermione’s stomach twisted at that. She would be busy, she’d made a list of everything she needed to do, but learning to fight Death Eaters was on the list. Second, in fact. "We will. I can ask Professor McGonagall if we can use a spare classroom to practice. Or Professor Flitwick, he was once a master dueller. He even had a duelling club back when he was at school."

"Fascinating," Bellatrix said, not meaning it. "You should borrow my book, it has a few tricks about clearing your mind that would be useful," Bellatrix said.

Hermione frowned at the comment. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because you’re helping me," Bellatrix returned. "And if there is really a war, I’d like to think you’re going to be on the winning side, so you’ll need to survive it."

Hermione drank in the words, feeling a flutter in her chest before she looked away. "Thank you," she said. "I appreciate that you’re helping me. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful."

Bellatrix gave her an odd look, but whatever thought passed there, she didn’t seem to repeat, instead looking away.

Hermione’s nightmares hadn’t stopped. The first night Bellatrix stayed in the room with her, on a made-up bed by her desk, Hermione had hoped that she would have a rare, sleepless night, but her mind at other ideas. She dreamt of the Department of Mysteries, of standing before a strange veil listening to voices whispers as hands reached out for her. Hermione, Hermione, they called, reaching for her, Hermione, Hermione, Hermione! Their hands were on her shoulders, tugging her into the veil as she squirmed.

Jolting away, Hermione panted as she stared at a halo, only to see Bellatrix staring at her. All at once, Hermione recalled where she was, what had happened, and rather intrusively, recalled what Fred and George Weasley had stated.

"You were having a nightmare," Bellatrix advised, lowering her hands from Hermione’s shoulders.

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you."

"Do you have them every night?" Bellatrix asked.

Hermione paused, sitting up as she pulled back on the bed. She felt hot and cold all over, suddenly aware of how close Bellatrix was, how warm the woman’s body was. "Yeah, yeah, I do," Hermione said. "It’s fine. I tried to buy some Dreamless Draught ingredients at Diagon Alley, but they were all out of pixies cloves," she said. "Not that I should use that long term, anyway."

Bellatrix paused and then seemed to shift. "You can keep the light on if you need to," Bellatrix said.

"I might make myself a cup of tea. It’s been helping lately," she explained. "Would you like a cup?"

Bellatrix stared at her for a second before giving a stiff nod.

Shifting out of bed, she eased into her slippers and dressing gown before leading Bellatrix downstairs. The house was dark, and everyone was a. Asep upstairs as she turned the kitchen light on and began turning the electric kettle on before getting out cups and the chamomile her mother kept in the cupboard. "It’s a bit bitter," Hermione explained as she pulled out the honey. "But it’s a muscle relaxant. You could try it without honey first and then add it if you fancy it."

"Honey’s fine," Bellatrix said, her arms crossed as she leaned back against the counter. "What are your dreams about?"

To that, Hermione paused. The dreams were private, she hadn’t shared them with anyone, not even Harry or Ron, but slowly she looked at Bellatrix before turning back to fix the tea. "The Department of Mysteries, mostly," she admitted. "But sometimes it’s in the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts, or I’m entangled in Devil’s Snare, and no matter how much I try to relax, the vines are tightening around me."

Hermione stirred at the honey, feeling the echoes of the dream before she turned back. "It’s fine," she assured. "They’re dreams. They’re not real."

"But they’re based on what you experienced," Bellatrix said as Hermione handed her cup over. "You’re having nightmares of––"

"Shh," Hermione said, pausing as she listened for any movement from upstairs. Her parents were heavy sleepers, but if one of them or her Aunt Cathy awoken, she didn’t want them to overhear. "It doesn’t matter," she assured, looking at the witch. "What’s done is done; all I can do is move forward."

"Moving forward is easy when you don’t remember," Bellatrix said as she sipped at the tea.

"So I should obliviate myself?" Hermione scoffed.

"That’s not what I said."

Hermione paused, taking a deep breath before she looked away, "No, it wasn’t. But what did you mean by it?"

"That I have no advice to give," Bellatrix said. There was no joke or irony in her voice, yet Hermione nonetheless found herself laughing. Bellatrix smiled back, somehow understanding the humour Hermione saw. For a moment, it eased the pain left by the nightmare, allowing them to return back up to bed.

The following morning, true to her word, Hermione and Bellatrix left to practice duelling, though there was something off as they did. The Summer was cooling, and while it rained briefly on their way to Central, it had cleared up the time they were leaving the country. Still, throughout the trip, Hermione had a strange feeling itching at the back of her neck.

"Someone’s following us," Bellatrix whispered on the train as they ate their lunch. "I saw that man catch the bus with us."

Hermione turned, inconspicuously glancing to where Bellatrix nodded. Hermione didn’t recognise the person, but she agreed. Undoubtedly, a strangeness about them set her teeth on edge. "Let’s switch carriage," Hermione said, packing their bags.

They moved a few carriages across and didn’t notice anyone follow them. It didn’t stop Hermione from holding onto her wand. Some part of her believed that it could have been Tonks, but she knew that if it had been, Tonks would have made some effort to tell them off. Whoever it was, Hermione didn’t recognise them and didn’t like them.

When they exited their stop and walked through the town, Hermione looked at Bellatrix. "He could have been a Death Eater."

"That’s what I used to be, wasn’t it?" Bellatrix asked. "Dumbledore believes he’s tricked their so-called Dark Lord into believing I’ve been kidnapped by the Ministry."

Hermione frowned at the comment before looking away. "Dumbledore was upfront with you about his plans?" Hermione asked.

"No. I overheard him speaking with someone when he thought I was asleep. If I were him, I would ensure that no one person is aware of his plans but himself. It makes it easier to know the source of any leaks you may have."

Hermione nodded. It made sense. This was a war, and people would likely switch sides to ensure their survival. There were few people she trusted, but Dumbledore was one of them. Looking at Bellatrix, she wondered to herself how much she trusted her. Enough to allow her sanctuary in her home. Enough to be alone with her.

Her heart thudded in her chest.

There was quiet in the forest as they arrived to duel. Clearing the grounds, Bellatrix marked it with her new wand and held it up to face Hermione, smiling. "Do you need help riling up?" She asked.

Hermione scowled. "I’ll be fine," she assured.

"Should I dig up some insults to help?" The woman teased, her eyes lighting up. "Remind you of how fast I am and how slow you are in duelling?"

"I’ll be fine," Hermione repeated, her anger flaring.

Bellatrix grinned. They stood firmly facing one another before they bowed, Bellatrix’s low and mocking before she rose to her full height. Hermione didn’t want to lose, not this time. She wanted to show how far she’d come.

The spell bounced, and Hermione slung another quickly after it. Spell after spell flew from one to the another, bouncing off their shields and hitting against the trees, leaving scorch marks. Hermione dodged and ran, moving from their spot as they darted and wove through trees. Bellatrix was running after her, giving chase, and Hermione refused to let herself be the rabbit chased by the wolf.

She skidded behind a tree, slinking away and went to throw a spell at Bellatrix—and then another spell hit her, stunning her in the chest.

Hermione froze, certain she hadn’t seen Bellatrix’s wand fire...but it wasn’t. Bellatrix hadn’t seen her yet. She was stalking the trees, grinning as her cheeks grew red from the fight, her breath exhaling in the air.

Was it a wayward spell?

No. Hermione heard the leaves crunch beside her. A careful step as someone came up behind her. With the spell locking her, she heard them crouch next to her. "Mione. We’ve come to save you." Ronald. Damn the fool! Hermione wanted to scream as her friend grabbed her, releasing the spell. "Come on, Harry––"

"Arrgh!" Harry’s voice called. Hermione looked to the source of the sound and saw Harry frozen as Bellatrix began stepping through the foliage. "Let go of her!" Bellatrix said, her wand pointed at Ron. "Or next time, it won’t be a stunning spell."

"What did you do to Harry?" Ron demanded.

"A stunning spell, you foolish boy."

Ron held his wand at Bellatrix, tugging Hermione backwards with a painful jerk. Hermione shoved away, "let go of me!" She said, tugging out of his hand. "I don’t need rescuing!"

"She’s a maniac!" He snapped. "I’m not letting you––! "

"Ron, it’s fine," Hermione assured. "She’s not a threat."

"I saw her chasing you! How can you say she’s not a threat when I saw her!"

Bellatrix scoffed at the comment, and Hermione was uncertain if it was towards being referred to as not a threat or being a threat. Hermione shot her a glance and watched as Bellatrix gave a scowl before stepping away.

Looking back at Ron, Hermione glared at him. "Put your wand down. Now, Ronald."

"But Harry—!"

"Now," she demanded, her voice shifting into a growl. Ron flinched, dropping his wand arm down, though he didn’t place it away. Hermione ignored it, looking where Harry stood, frozen in the spell. For the moment, he was fine and at least able to listen. "Bellatrix is not a threat."

"But Harry and I saw you on the train. She’s trying to lure you out here to...to...", and then he stopped, arms folded as he glared at Bellatrix behind her. "To torture you. Why was she chasing you otherwise?"

"Because we were duelling."

"She’s teaching me to duel!" Hermione snapped. "Bella is my friend."

"A friend?" Ron snapped. "No, Harry and I are your friends. That woman is a mental nutcase. She tried to kill us!"

"That wasn’t her!" Hermione snapped back. "She’s not that woman. She’s had ample opportunity to kill me over the past few weeks and hasn’t. She’s been a good friend, thank you very much. And she was placed in my care by Dumbledore, so if either you or Harry, for that matter, have a problem with that, then take it up with him!"

"We have," Ron sniffed, his face shifting with anger. "Blimey, woman. What spell does she have you under?"

"Woman?" Hermione felt her fury boil over. "Listen here, Ronald Weasley, you and Harry can take yourselves back to your mother and explain what you’ve done, how you breached the safety of Harry in this time to come to my rescue when I didn’t ask for anything and am perfectly following Albus Dumbledore’s orders. Did you even think to write to me?"

Ron stood, fumbling before he muttered something about Bellatrix likely to sneak into her letters.

Turning around, Hermione stormed off to where Harry was frozen and undid the spell, watching as he tripped and fell to the ground. Helping him up, Hermione felt the anger simmer inside her as she looked at the two boys who were sheepishly beginning to look ashamed of themselves.

They had expected to be her hero, just as they had been all those years ago with the troll. Instead, they had been lectured for their stupidity. "Go home," she said, as gently as she could. "Don’t go rushing off. You’ll only put the Order in more danger chasing after you, and that’s not fair. We’re meant to trust Dumbledore."

Harry sighed, fixing himself up. "Sorry," he muttered before looking at Bellatrix and where she leant against the tree. "Do you really believe her?" He asked, his voice lowered. "It could be a ploy."

"A plot for what?" She asked. "What intel would I have? She’d better try to convince one of the other Orders members."

"She could be playing the long game."

Hermione frowned. "That woman you think she is, she didn’t have patience, Harry. But Bella’s not like that. She’s just a witch. Like Ginny or me."

"I saw her wand work," Harry said. "She’s faster than me."

"Yes, well...just because someone can beat you in a duel, Harry, it doesn’t make them a bad guy."

Harry didn’t look convinced, but after a few moments, he and Ron cleaned themselves up and left, looking somewhat embarrassed by the situation. Eventually, they admitted they’d used one of the Weasley Twins’ disguise kits to follow her and had only been doing it because they’d thought she was under the imperio spell.

Hermione went home that day with a soft appreciation for her friends for coming to her rescue despite what they’d been advised and a strong reminder to try and communicate first. At the very least, to raise their concerns with a trusting adult.

"Dumbledore bound us," Harry muttered. "Can’t even tell Sirius."

"If you don’t trust Dumbledore, then we have bigger problems," Hermione stressed. That, at least, seemed to give Harry something to think about for the rest of Summer.

On the train ride home, Bellatrix gave her a strange look.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"You said that we’re friends."

"We are, aren’t we?" Hermione asked.

Bellatrix’s mouth parted before she looked away.

Harry and Ron were dead. Their corpses lay still, staring up at her. Behind her, Hermione could hear the veil whispering, calling her name. She could feel its hands tugging at her, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the bodies. Harry's eyes stared up at her, his mouth parted as his skin grew grey, his body decomposing before her eyes as someone laughed, loud and raucous behind her until––

Gasping awake, Hermione sat up in bed, her chest heaving.

She felt hot and cold all over as she sat up and looked at the end of the bed. Bellatrix shifted, turning over to face her as she blinked slowly. "Nightmare?" She asked.

Hermione nodded. "Bad one," she admitted.

Bellatrix shifted, sitting up. "Do you want to make tea?"

No, Hermione shook her head. She felt too nauseous to eat or drink. All she could picture was Harry and Ron's eyes staring at her. It made her feel sick, knowing what had occurred.

Bellatrix rose, coming to sit on the side of her bed. Over the last week, Bellatrix had seemed different. Kinder, almost in how she spoke with Hermione. "What happened?" She asked.

Hermione paused, thinking about a lie she could tell, but it seemed easier to tell the truth. "I dreamt that Harry and Ron were dead. Someone was laughing behind me, and I think...I think it was...him," she said, whispering the last word.