Chapter 100 - ch 17-18

Chapter 17: Formulate a ResponseChapter Text 

Hermione pushes herself up off of Luna. "Sorry. Are you okay? I didn't mean to— oh, thanks."

Luna hands her back the egg. "You're welcome. I think you need to go back down now. I'm very curious to find out what your score will be. And Bellatrix Black's."

Uh…

Right.

Hermione brushes her robes down and squeezes past a still dumbstruck Neville. "Sorry. Excuse me. Just need to— thank you."

She walks down the steps awkwardly, feeling more than a hundred eyes fixed on her.

Bagman clears his throat. "Right then. Uhh…well, usually the champions have to stop off at the first aid tent to be checked over, but seeing as Miss Granger appears unharmed…and…uhh…we'd best get on with the scores!"

She reaches the bottom. The keepers have already taken the Horntail away, and now the judging table is fully visible once more.

Hermione looks up at them. Shrugs helplessly. She…has no idea what score she'd give herself either.

Dumbledore trails his wand through the air, gold magic streaming from the end. An eight. Oh. Well that's…more than she expected.

Madame Maxime huffs at his side. Drags her wand through the air jerkily. A two.

Also fair enough. Hermione hadn't used any kind of advanced magic. And had…needed saving.

Crouch is next. Looking very pale and shaken. A five. Neutral. Easy.

Bagman gives her a three with an apologetic shrug. Looks like he doesn't have any wagers placed on her then.

And Karkaroff…looks even more terrified than Crouch. Hesitates for a long time, before slowly raising his wand.

Glances at the sky.

Draws a shaky nine.

Dumbledore clears his throat. "Thank you, Miss Granger. I believe that concludes the first task. I would advise that you do stop off at the first aid tent for Madam Pomfrey to check you over before you return to the castle."

Hermione nods quickly, turning and jogging towards the exit. Time to get out of here. She's had enough of all the staring, and really needs to just—

She rounds the corner. Slows to a fast walk, her eyes blurring with tears and—

She brings a trembling hand to her mouth. The adrenaline is wearing off. This always happens. The built-up panic.

The tent flaps open, and Madam Pomfrey hurries out. "Dragons! What were they thinking? What— What is the matter, Miss Granger? Come here. Where are you hurt? Can you tell me?"

Hermione shakes her head, rubbing at her eyes. "Nowhere. I'm fine. Honestly, Madam Pomfrey. It's the— it's the—"

Madam Pomfrey pats her hand and leads her to a bed. "The shock. Yes, it's alright. Happens to the best of us. You just sit here for a few minutes and drink this. A calming draught. Now let me just have a little look at you…"

Hermione sips at the calming draught, her heart immediately slowing. Hands unclenching. Stomach untensing.

Madam Pomfrey looks at her critically. Searches her eyes. "No burns, as I thought. So she was fast enough. Did…And she didn't hurt you in any way? Use any…spells on you? Anything?" Madam Pomfrey asks quietly.

Oh. She was watching what happened with Bellatrix too?

Hermione slowly shakes her head. "No. She just…grabbed me, and then dropped me so she could leave," Hermione whispers back. "She told me to use an arresto momentum."

She saved her. Bellatrix saved her. Came back for her.

She takes another sip of the calming draught as Madam Pomfrey looks her over one last time and then leaves through the partition. Calm down, Hermione. It's over.

So why is she still nervous?

And Harry, Ron, and Ginny burst into the tent. "Hermione!"

Harry gets to her first. "Are you okay? Are you alright? I couldn't— She took my broom! I would have helped you, but—"

Ginny whacks her in the arm. "What were you thinking?! That wasn't the plan! You were—"

Hermione puts a hand over Ginny's mouth. "Ssh! Of course there wasn't a plan, the dragon was a surprise, remember?" She looks at Harry. "And I'm fine. Honestly. Not a scratch. I'll be able to leave soon. I just needed to…sit for a bit. On solid ground."

She digs her hand into the bedsheet. Safe. Ground. First task over.

Ron looks her over. "Well…it's good you're okay. Weird that she… but…so you got the egg!" he says, changing the subject and nodding at it.

Hermione smiles, relieved to focus on something else. "Yes. You can look at it if you want. Here."

She hands him the egg. "Don't open it though. It—"

Fleur suddenly steps backwards through the nearest partition, gesturing quickly to someone. "Une seconde! J'arrive. Il faut ranger mes—"

She breaks off and lets the partition fall shut, hurrying over to Hermione, pushing Ron out of the way. "Are you okay?" she whispers. "I thought you were going to—"

She moves to touch Hermione's face but pauses. "That witch. The Death Eater. Where did she come from? And does she know you? She was faster to save you than all of the professors."

Hermione flushes uncomfortably, feeling her face heating up even more as Fleur's fingers move forwards and do cup her face, stroking her skin. Oh dear...

Hermione gently pulls her hands away. "I'm fine. And…I really don't know why she saved me. She didn't say. I guess she was fast enough because of the broom."

"Delacour! Dépêche-toi!" Madame Maxime calls from outside the tent.

Fleur sighs. "She is worried. All of the professors are. We have to return to the castle, quickly. Before they call the aurors and the dementors."

Dementors?

Hermione shares a worried look with Harry and hurriedly gets up. "We'll come with you. Let's go."

Fleur nods. Glances to the exit. "I cannot be seen with you. They are suspicious. Even more now. I am sorry, Hermione, but I have to go."

And she kisses Hermione's cheeks before running off.

Ginny laughs quietly. "She likes you."

"Never mind that now," Harry says, following after Fleur. "We have to send an owl. We have to warn Sirius. Dementors. He's nearby. What if they get to him first instead of Bellatrix?"

Hermione jogs after him, anxiety back, despite the calming draught still sloshing in her stomach. She hadn't expected— well she understands that Bellatrix is a wanted criminal now they know she's alive again, but…

It feels…

Dementors? It's not like she hurt anyone.

…well, not recently.

They all head back around the lake, joining the crowd. Everyone is talking excitedly. Colin Creevey taking photographs. Prefects shouting. Some people looking up at the sky and pointing, as if expecting Bellatrix to swoop down.

Hermione looks too. Searches the sky for a tiny black figure. Feels out…for…Harry. Ron. Ginny. Hogwarts.

No Bellatrix…

Oh. Wait.

Charlie? Tonks?

She grabs Harry and pulls him to a stop. Looks around for— aha! At the edge of the forest. "It's Charlie! He's with Tonks. She's an auror. Come on!"

And they push through the crowd, falling free close to the tree line. Charlie is there, frowning in concern.

Stood next to a wizard about the same age as him that Hermione has never seen before.

Ah.

She turns to the wizard. "Tonks, are they really sending dementors? That's so dangerous. What are the aurors—"

Tonks clears her throat. "You need to return inside with the other students, Miss Granger. I'm sure Mr Crouch and the aurors will come to speak with you very soon."

Oh.

Shit.

They're definitely going to talk to her about Bellatrix. And is Tonks…angry?

Hermione steps closer to her. "I can talk to you? Right? I can tell you—"

Charlie pats her on the shoulder. "Go on. Back to the castle, all of you. Tonks…well she shouldn't show herself right now, should she? Might be recognised."

By…Bellatrix?

Ginny grabs hold of Charlie. "Then both of you come with us! You shouldn't be out here if dementors are coming. We'll be safe in the castle."

"Will we?" Tonks asks abruptly, staring at Hermione.

Hermione swallows. Nods. "I— I think so. She told me she needed to leave. To hide. She flew away."

They all start walking quickly around the lake once more, Tonks at Hermione's side and Harry jogging ahead, obviously eager to get to the owlery.

"She spoke to you," Tonks says quietly. "Why'd she do that? Why'd she save you? What's going on, Hermione?"

She…

What is going on? Everything is just so— so different, and confusing. Nothing like this has ever happened to Hermione before. She doesn't know why she's here. She doesn't know what she's doing. She just— all she keeps thinking is that—

Bellatrix saved her. There has to be a reason. There has to be something very different about her. Something good in her.

Because she saved her. When she didn't have to. When she would have had more time to make an escape.

"Well?" Tonks says as they reach the entrance, a crowd still waiting to get in. "You said you wanted to talk. And we all saw her dive in front of a dragon for you, which don't make no sense unless—"

Gasps and shouts ring out around them.

"Move!" Dumbledore's voice booms. "All of you. Back. Get back."

The crowd quickly parts. Everyone practically flattening themselves to the walls, even Hermione. She's never heard Dumbledore like that.

And now she can see why.

Mad-Eye Moody is standing just inside the Entrance Hall.

She quickly feels out with her magic. Dumbledore, Tonks, Harry, Charlie, Ron, Ginny, Fleur, McGonagall, Snape…

Person after person.

But no Bellatrix.

"It's me, Albus," Moody growls. "Black is long gone. Told me to say…sorry about the broom."

He looks at Harry.

What? Does that have a hidden meaning? That's a bit of a weird thing to focus on, if not.

Dumbledore folds his arms. "Do you fly, Alastor?"

Moody barks out a laugh. "Prefer to have my feet on solid ground, myself. I've done my fair share of flying in my time, and it's never come to any good, as you well know."

Dumbledore seems to relax. "I do indeed. What year was it, again? My memory isn't what it used to be."

Moody points at his elbow. "Fifty-nine." Then at his neck. "Sixty-three."

Then glances around at the crowd. "And that's all you're getting with this many witnesses. You happy?"

Dumbledore smiles. "Overjoyed to see you again. And…appalled that it took me so long to notice your absence."

And he walks forward to shake his hand.

No grin from Moody at this repeated action. No smirk. No searching out Hermione in the crowd.

It feels wrong. So wrong. Like he's the imposter.

Dumbledore lets go, and turns to smile at everyone instead. "I believe any imminent danger has passed, but the castle will still need to be searched, as well as the grounds. The Azkaban guards are already en route. So if you would all make yourself comfortable in the Great Hall for now, it would be much appreciated, and a weight off my mind."

Chatter builds once more. Students begin to drift inside, still looking at Moody fearfully. Suspiciously.

Harry stands in the doorway. Clearly torn between doing as he's told and contacting Sirius.

He opens his bag. There's the slight shimmer of the invisibility cloak, and then he's gone. Ducking out of sight and disappearing altogether.

Tonks makes her way over to Mad-Eye, and Hermione takes the opportunity to go with her. Listen in, rather than be walked inside with Charlie like the others.

Crouch, Snape and McGonagall have all gathered too, glaring at any students that are hanging back.

Including Hermione.

Tonks glances at her and back to Mad-Eye. "So what Potter said was true? Polyjuice?"

The magical eye scans over Tonks. A glint to the real eye. Recognition. Maybe this is a regular persona for Tonks at work.

And then the eye spins to Hermione. Moody nods. "We'll speak about it inside. Somewhere more private. Who's this?"

"This," Barty Crouch glares, "is Miss Hermione Granger. And who she is, is yet to be determined. Auror Tonks. Take her inside for questioning. A room within the castle will do until we can safely evacuate to the Ministry."

What? "Questioning? What kind of questioning?" Hermione protests, looking at Tonks warily. "I don't know anything! I'll tell you everything I know, you don't have to—"

McGonagall moves around between Tonks and Hermione and places a firm hand on her shoulder. "Yes, Miss Granger will not be going anywhere. As her Head of House, she is in my care, and any questions will—"

"This is a Ministry matter!" Crouch snaps, eyes bulging. "A highly dangerous convict has falsified her death and escaped Azkaban, and Miss Granger was conveniently the last person seen with her! After tampering with the Goblet to enter a tournament where both parties are participants! And after appearing at the exact location where the Dark Mark was summoned only three months ago! At the same moment as the convict's sister, who was conveniently obliviated. Something that Miss Granger was very quick to point out!"

He finishes, breathing fast. Points at Hermione. "Take her in for questioning, Auror Tonks."

Oh no. Well, that does sound suspicious, but—

"And if she continues to try to talk her way out of it…bring the veritaserum," he adds, looking at Snape.

Dumbledore chuckles. "Ah, Barty. Your vigour is always commendable. But perhaps it has slipped your mind that veritaserum cannot be administered to a witch or wizard who is underage. Miss Granger is only fifteen. And as she says, is more than happy to answer any questions the DMLE might have."

Barty's eyes narrow further. "Veritaserum is permissible. With probable cause and motive. And it cannot have escaped your notice that this fifteen-year-old girl looks remarkably mature for her age."

Shit.

Hermione takes an automatic step back as he moves closer, wishing she'd begun using glamour charms as soon as she'd arrived here.

Not veritaserum. He can't. That would be—

McGonagall lets out a sound of outrage. "Mature for— How a student looks is none of your concern. And if you ever mention the maturity of one of them again then a formal complaint to the Minister is the least you'll be getting!"

Tonks puts a protective arm around Hermione's shoulders, eyes narrowing at Crouch and sharing a look with McGonagall and Moody. "Alright then, Mr Crouch. I'll take Hermione inside. We can all sort this out, yeah? Let the kid talk. Your office, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore smiles fondly at Tonks. "Splendid. I'm sure that this will all be resolved very shortly. Alastor, if you would accompany us, and Severus, Minerva, perhaps you may ensure that the rest of the student body and our guests are situated in the Great Hall and well provided for before joining us?"

Snape gives a terse nod, before turning and entering the castle.

McGonagall hesitates. "I would prefer it if I could accompany Miss Granger, Albus. Veritaserum, I ask you! She has nothing to do with any of this, she's just a girl!" She gives Crouch another disappointed look, which he shrinks back from, authoritative stance slipping into self-doubt.

Dumbledore sighs. Shakes his head at her sadly. "As was another. Of course, I am not suggesting in the slightest that Hermione has anything to do with this. But Bartemius is correct that there are certain connections between Miss Granger and Miss Black, the extent of which needs to be determined."

He lowers his glasses. Looks at Crouch sternly. "Without the use of veritaserum."

No veritaserum. Okay. That's good. That's better. But still—

And that's when she feels it. The cold. A cloud covering the sun, darkening the sky.

But not a cloud. Not just warmth stolen from the air. Happiness. Hope. A heavy, nauseating dread.

Tonks tightens her grip around Hermione's shoulders. "Let's get inside. Come on. It'll be alright. Just a chat. Mad-Eye'll make us a cuppa tea," she smiles with an exaggerated wink.

Mad-Eye snorts, turning and limping inside, wooden leg and staff tapping on the stone floor and echoing through the entrance. "I wouldn't count on it. If you're waiting on that, you'll be waiting a damn long time," he growls. "Get me up to speed. Who've we got? Kingsley? Dawlish?"

Tonks walks quickly after him, bringing Hermione along with her and knocking them into suit of armour slightly as they go. "On their way. Or might be searching already. I'm off duty but was…uh…around to watch the tournament."

Moody nods without comment. Carries on leading their small group up the stairs.

Right. Hermione. Think. Last chance to get your story straight.

What…on Earth is she going to tell them?

As it turns out, they do have tea. And biscuits. And sherbet lemons, all sat around Dumbledore's desk in differently conjured chairs.

Much to Crouch's obvious displeasure. He's reluctant to even sit down. And won't stop glaring at Hermione, which is just becoming very annoying.

He does stop once McGonagall and Snape return though.

Dumbledore rests his hands together, eyes twinkling. "Now then, Hermione. I believe I owe you an apology. You tried to warn me on multiple occasions of Bellatrix's presence in the school. I am terribly sorry that I did not listen."

Hermione smiles awkwardly. Doesn't really know what to say to that.

"Damn should have," Moody grumbles. "I've always told you that you need to be more vigilant. Fooled by Lestrange."

"Where have you been?" Hermione can't help but ask. "Did she…hold you somewhere?"

"We're asking the questions!" Crouch shouts, making them all jump. Except Mad-Eye. And Snape, who just raises an eyebrow and shares a look with McGonagall at this tantrum-like outburst. "How about you tell us what happened on that broomstick, hmm?" Crouch continues. "Or in the arena. Black spoke to you. Touched you. Seemed…familiar with you."

Everyone turns to look at Hermione curiously. All eyes on her. It's strangely intense. She's flustered. Feels like she's been caught…fraternising or something. Which she— she isn't friends with Bellatrix. Just because they talk sometimes doesn't mean—

Hermione shrugs helplessly. "I don't know why she talked to me. I can tell you what she said. She…in the arena she apologised and said I was going to have to wait a bit longer to fight the dragon, and on the broomstick she— well she swore quite a lot and called me crazy, and then said she had to leave and hide, and pushed me off the broom, telling me to use an arresto momentum. She's just been…my professor. My fake professor. That's why she talks to me."

"And came to your rescue…," Snape comments.

Hermione turns to glare at him. "I don't know why she saved me. I guess she just…didn't want me to burn, or…had fast instincts or something!"

Snape scoffs. "I highly doubt that Bellatrix has any kind of instinct to save someone's life. Quite the opposite. Especially someone she views to be…less than."

He gets a few disapproving looks at this, but he's right, so Hermione just shrugs again. "I don't know what else to tell you. That's all she said. All I know."

"So you can confirm that you have had no interaction with her outside of what we have seen today, or in her capacity as a professor?" Crouch presses. "Nothing…unusual?"

Hermione focuses on her breathing. On keeping it even. On relaxing her expression. "No. Nothing at all. She pretended to be Professor Moody, and taught me Defense Against The Dark Arts. She taught all of us. That's it."

There's a brief silence as everyone seems to weigh up whether to believe her. Hermione tries to remember how she would normally react in this situation. Should she be angry? Offended?

Scared?

She swallows. "How did this happen? I mean…a Death Eater? In the school? I— well I read in the paper that she's…not considered very mentally stable. She didn't hurt me this time, or anyone, but…why didn't she? Why didn't she try to hurt Harry?"

There. A bit naïve. Half worried. But also brings up the fact that Bellatrix didn't hurt anyone. Maybe they have some idea what's going on with that, because Hermione doesn't. She's quite lost on that front, to be honest.

Dumbledore nods tiredly. "Yes, we are very fortunate that Miss Black has for whatever reason been very dedicated to her role as professor. I admit that it is quite the surprise, and the very reason I believe that all of us here were quick to dismiss her as an imposter."

He glances at McGonagall who nods uncomfortably. "It is extremely out of character," she whispers, as if confessing a shameful mistake. Trying to rationalise it. "Never would I have imagined that she would be capable of, or even inclined to…"

She drifts off. Shakes her head. Dismisses whatever thought or indecision has drifted into her expression, and then is calm and collected once more. "Have we discovered the reason for her actions? Her behaviour? Should we be concerned for Mr Potter?"

Moody clears his throat. "Something strange is going on with Lestrange alright. Or Black. She insists on Black. Claims she's divorced, not that I've ever seen a record of it. She was a Lestrange when she entered Azkaban. But…her personality has changed a lot since then."

He sees it too!

"Where were you?" Tonks asks, morphing back to her usual appearance. "What happened?"

Moody glares around the room at them all.

Then scans with his magical eye, section by section. Pauses on Snape until even he shifts uncomfortably.

But, like Tonks, Moody eventually seems to be happy that there are no spies in the room, and sits down, taking out his flask.

Looks inside. Grimaces. "She could have washed it better. And the bloody eye keeps—" He grumbles to himself. Smacks the side of his head to get the eye spinning. "She ambushed me at home, not long before the start of the school term. Her and Peter Pettigrew."

He nods at Dumbledore. And Crouch. "Pettigrew is alive, and working for You Know Who. Saw him with my own eyes."

McGonagall gasps. Whirls to look at Dumbledore, and then let's out a disbelieving scoff as she sees the knowing twinkle in his eye.

Looks at Snape, whose expression is suspiciously blank. Folds her arms and mutters to herself.

Hermione fights not to smile.

Moody nods at Crouch, who is one of the only other people showing surprise. "Don't know exactly how it happened, but we need a file on him. Didn't see a Dark Mark. Wasn't time to look. Seems he's also an unregistered animagus, a rat."

Moody stands up with a groan, starts pacing around. "So, when I went out to check on the dustbin alarms going off, I didn't think much of him. Old rat sat there in the rubbish. For one second, I hesitated. One second. That's all she needed. I cast an homenum revelio first. Readied a stupefy second. They…caught me unawares," he mutters. "She's still damn fast. Even if her act has changed."

"What do you mean her act has changed? Her personality?" Tonks frowns. "From her file—"

Moody waves a hand, interrupting her. "We need new intel on Bellatrix Black too. Need to go over our sources. Don't know what she's been up to for the past decade, but she's a damn sight saner. Didn't make any threats. Didn't harmed me. Didn't even try. I was expecting a fight, but…." He runs a hand over his mouth. "It's strange. Bloody strange. I don't know what to think of this, Albus. And I don't like it. The witch has a plan. Is up to something. And as the weeks have gone on, I'm less sure of her. She started off normal enough but lately she's been acting…nice."

He makes a face. Like Bellatrix being nice is the most disgusting thing imaginable.

Hermione almost laughs, his expression is so put out. What did she do?

Moody just scowls. Keeps his mouth firmly shut. Doesn't elaborate.

Can she ask?

Dumbledore claps softly. "Then it seems we have much to think about. And now that Miss Granger has answered all of our questions, I believe it is time she return to the Great Hall with the other students, and we can begin a thorough search of the castle. Under the sage advice of the Auror Department, of course."

Moody grunts. "Madam Pomfrey's coming up the stairs now. About to knock. Must be here to check on the girl, but she'll have to take her to the Hall, not the hospital wing. We can't have people wandering about."

And there's a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Dumbledore calls cheerfully, breaking into a chuckle. "Alastor is ready for you now."

Madam Pomfrey bustles in and straight up to Moody, already casting diagnostic charms and shining a light in his eye. "Well, it's about time! Kidnapped? A hostage for months? He should have been given medical assistance the moment he arrived. Now look here, Mr Moody. Tell me what the year is and who's Minister for Magic."

Moody bats her away with a growl. "94, Cornelius Fudge, and if you don't get that wand away from me—"

"Constant vigilance," Dumbledore says warmly, a twinkle to his eyes. "We cannot be too careful, under the circumstances. Poppy?"

Madam Pomfrey sighs. "A few aches and pains, but that's to be expected. No recent injuries, or even malnutrition or dehydration. Of course a patient's health is confidential, so I can't go into detail. But given he's spent months under the…care…of Bellatrix Black? Remarkably unhurt. Not a scratch. Physically or mentally."

Moody huffs. "As I said. So get out of here with your poking and prodding. We have a castle to search and an investigation to get underway. How we doing this, Crouch? This my operation?"

Crouch clears his throat and gets to his feet. "Yes, yes. I should be getting back to the Ministry, get this officially underway. As for the tournament…"

He pinches his brow. "It shall have to continue. A magical contract cannot be broken. All of the champions would be magically compromised. This…"

He drifts off.

"Is gonna be a bloody pain in the backside on all fronts," Moody finishes for him, already on his way to the door. "Tonks, with me. Change your face. Don't care which."

This seems to be the cue to leave, Tonks changing back into the young wizard she was before, and everyone getting to their feet and filing out of the room, off down the stairs.

Hermione follows with a quiet sigh of relief, keeping her head down in case Crouch spots her and has a sudden change of heart.

That was a lot less interrogating than she'd expected, but she supposes there's a lot to sort out, and Bellatrix's behaviour towards Hermione isn't as suspicious if she's being 'nice' to everyone now.

She wonders—

"Miss Granger, a word," comes a low murmur in her ear. Then a hand on her elbow. "Now."

And Snape is pulling her into a classroom. Wha—

She jerks out of his grip. "Get off! What—"

He swishes his wand behind them, locking the door, and then folds his arms, staring down his nose at her. "Oh do be quiet. And stop with the floundering, innocent act. It is becoming tiresome and won't. Work. On. Me."

Her mouth snaps shut. Silence falls.

He smirks. "Better. Good. So we're on the same page. The fact that you just got through that meeting is a miracle in and of itself. So the truth, Miss Granger. Quickly now. If you would. When are you from? For what purpose have you returned? And what is your relationship with Bellatrix?" he asks in quick succession, voice calm and certain. Almost bored.

No no no no—

She takes a step back, bumping into a desk. "Professor? I think there must be some misunderstanding. I really don't—"

He scoffs. "Now this is just embarrassing."

And he raises his wand. Points it at her. "Answers, Granger," he says more harshly. "What is your plan? What is her plan? This is dangerous for all involved and it would be incredibly stupid for you not to answer me. If only you had come to me sooner, we could have avoided this mess. Why put her name in the goblet? You've forced her to reveal herself. Forced her to become useless to the Dark Lord. Do you know what he does to things he no longer has a use for? And do you understand who he may now come to to aid him? You are messing with people's lives!" he all but spits.

Oh. Oh, if Voldemort doesn't have faith in Bellatrix…then his next most faithful servant would be…

Hermione swallows. "I didn't mean to. I didn't put her name in. I— how do you know all this? Are you working with her?"

"Work with her?" Snape sneers. "Of course not, you imbecilic witch. How I know is that the both of you have the subtlety of a stampeding erumpent and just as odd a mating ritual. Now I don't know what kind of relationship the two of you have fallen into in this distant future, but—"

Hermione lets out a strange squawking sound. "What are you talking about?! I'm not in a relationship with her! And future— She's not from the future! She's from now! I'm the one that's from—"

She cuts off abruptly. Doesn't quite catch herself in time.

He raises an eyebrow. "…From the future. So you do admit it. But…not Bellatrix? She didn't travel with you?"

Hermione folds her arms. Looks away. "No," she says quietly. "Of course not. She's not from the future, and she's definitely not in a…relationship with me. She— We don't know each other. Not now. Not ever. She was on the other side of the War. Hated people like me. The Bellatrix that is here is not the Bellatrix that was there."

Snape gives her a look.

Then pinches his brow, closing his eyes. "Gryffindors," he mutters. "So willing to— Has it escaped your notice that you just admitted to being a time traveller within…a two minute conversation, with almost no prompting? As well as revealing major future events such as an upcoming war, your obvious belief that I am on your side in this war, and, somewhat more disturbingly, that you know Bellatrix well enough within this time period to have deemed her different from her future self. A self that you are claiming to not know at all."

Oh.

She leans against a desk. Rubs her hands over her face. Oh she is so bad at keeping secrets.

Snape sighs. "Please please tell me that no-one else knows of this? That you have not revealed any information to…"

He drifts off, probably catching her expression.

She looks up guiltily. Clears her throat. "I…yes and no. But— but this isn't the past! Not really! In my fourth year, Bellatrix wasn't here! She was in Azkaban! It was Barty Crouch Junior that was here!"

At this he pauses. Frowns. "An…alternate universe? I did not…believe that to be possible. Linear time travel itself is only theoretical on a more than six-hour basis."

Hermione snorts. Gestures at herself. "Not anymore. But I have no idea how it happened. There isn't some grand plan. I came here accidentally. Woke up here on the day of the Quidditch World Cup."

His gaze snaps to hers. His wand hand twitches. She grips her own more tightly on reflex, unsure of the expression on his face.

And then it's gone. He looks to the door. "Back to the Great Hall, then. Before our absence is noted. And try to keep your mouth shut. It's clear that you have already spoken with Potter and at least one Weasley, is that all?"

She almost argues at his condescending tone.

Then remembers the other person she told. Swallows. "Bellatrix…figured it out too. She knows I'm from the future. She guessed."

Snape had turned towards the closed doorway, and now rests his hand against it. Leans forward. As if he might suddenly bang his head against the wood in frustration. "Bellatrix? You told— unbelievable. It is extraordinary that you have enough brain cells to function."

"She guessed!" Hermione huffs. "The same as you did. She was watching me, and she's clever, so— oh! By the way, is she a legilimens? Is that why you were avoiding eye contact with her?"

Snape sighs. Unlocks the door and walks out, stopping to check left and right and then continuing along the corridor, Hermione following after him. "She is not a natural legilimens, no. That is a highly rare skill. She needs a wand to perform the spell. Thankfully. Otherwise, the amount she would have uncovered…"

He turns sharply to the left, and they head down a stairway. "And Potter? He was not in the Great Hall," Snape murmurs. "Is he using his cloak to accompany you?"

Snape knows about the cloak?

Of course he does.

Hermione looks down at her feet to avoid stepping on the back of Snape's robes, shaking her head. "He's not here. He went to the owlery to—"

She almost bumps into Snape as he stops. "Owlery? That— What is it that that boy does not understand about the words manhunt and fugitive and stay where you are told!"

And then his pace is picking up again, almost gliding through the corridors as Hermione hurries to keep up. "Idiot! The owlery. Yes, I'll just go to the furthest, tallest tower, alone, surrounded by dementors and in a place that is conveniently accessible by broom."

"It was urgent," Hermione puffs out. "But as you say, he has his cloak. I'm sure he's back in the Hall by now."

They reach the entrance stairs. "He'd better be. Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for allowing such idiotic behaviour. And for your own stupidity, whilst we're at it. You—"

The doors to the Great Hall open, and Viktor looks through, his shoulders falling in relief as he sees Snape and Hermione. "Sir! There is problem! Is Headmaster Karkaroff. He take sheep."

Uhh…

Sheep? What?

Hermione actually shares a confused look with Snape it's such a strange comment.

She walks up to Viktor and clears her throats. "Sheep? What do you mean?"

Viktor just nods. "He go— went. He has gone home."

He— Oh! Ship. So…he left them and just…ran away? Because of Bellatrix? That cowardly, selfish—

Snape ushers them inside and shuts the door, buzzing conversation reaching their ears from all the tables. "All of you? Are you all accounted for? All here?" Snape asks slowly and clearly.

Viktor points across the room. "Yes. All here with Slytherin. They say you help."

Snape nods and sweeps past up the aisle, Viktor following after him. This is all such a mess! And with hardly any professors around to—

Someone taps her on the shoulder. Hermione jumps. Turns, for some reason expecting a grinning face and—

It is a similar grin, but not the same. Tonks, still looking like a wizard. "Good, you're here," Tonks says. "Thought I might have to go looking for you. We still need a chat at some point, so owl me if you have anything to tell me, yeah? I have to go on patrol, and the protection wards are all about to be put in place, here and on the school gate, so Charlie and me are off out of here."

Tonks looks over towards the Gryffindor table where Charlie is sat with his siblings and Harry. And Fleur and Luna. Tonks waves to try to get his attention, but he's too busy laughing with the twins.

Tonks rolls her eyes. Then whistles. Loudly. "Oy! Weasley! Come on, you ain't a student no more!"

The Hall falls almost silent at the unexpected sound, and Charlie flushes embarrassedly as everyone turns to stare, quickly saying goodbye and jogging over.

Chatter breaks out again. He shoves Tonks. "You know I hate it when you do that. You could have just walked over."

Tonks snorts. "And get chewed out again? Not on your nelly. Your girlfriend's scary, Hermione. Thought I was going to get my eyes clawed out. You need to tell her I come in peace."

What?

Hermione just stares at Tonks in complete bafflement.

Then looks back towards the Gryffindor table. Scary girlfriend? "I don't have a girlfriend. What are you talking about?"

Now it's Tonks' turn to frown. "Delacour. She ain't your girlfriend? That's what the Daily Prophet said. I don't normally believe Skeeter's bollocks, but then Frenchie came at me. Asking who I am and how I know you and what I was doing touching you and all that. I mean, look at her!"

Tonks looks over at Fleur. Waves.

Fleur gives her a death glare and then glances at Hermione. Her wand twitching in her hand.

Uhh…

Hermione smiles at Fleur and waves too. Pats Tonks on the back. Friends.

Tonks barks out a laugh, shrugging her off. "I'll leave you to it. Good luck. You seem to attract a lot of strange attention, wouldn't wanna be you. Two dragons in one day."

Hermione sighs. "She's not a dragon! She's nice! She's probably just worried about me walking off with a stranger and not coming back for ages. But she's not my girlfriend. We haven't— I don't— What do you mean about the Skeeter article? She said we were fighting over Viktor! Not each other."

Charlie grimaces. "Oh. You haven't seen it? She's changed her story. The love triangle is…a complete triangle now. There's a photograph of you two drinking in the Three Broomsticks. Of you laughing and touching each other. It was in the paper this morning. Star-crossed lovers. Forbidden love. Something like that."

Skeeter! And a photograph?! How did she—

Hermione huffs. "No, I didn't see it. But as soon as we're allowed out of here, Skeeter is going to get a very blunt letter discussing her journalism methods and how they will not be usable in the near future. Now come on. This is ridiculous. Come talk to Fleur. You can keep an eye on Harry at the same time until more professors get back."

Tonks shrugs. "Alright. But if she kills me, you're paying for the funeral."

Hermione swallows, stomach clenching. Forces a smile and shakes it off. "No funerals. I promise."

And she walks over to the others, smiling and nodding at them in greeting, and then squeezing in next to Fleur. Leaning to whisper. "Hi. What's wrong?"

Fleur grabs the side of her head and pulls her even closer to whisper right in the shell of her ear. "That wizard. He is suspicious. How do you know him? What is his name? Why can't I feel him?"

Feel…oh!

The thrall? That's why Fleur is suspicious? She can't feel any reaction from Tonks or whatever she normally feels with wizards?

Hermione smiles. Pulls back to look at Fleur. "It's okay. I know. It's a disguise."

Fleur's eyes widen as she glances at Tonks and away. "It is her?!" she hisses. "The Death Eater again?"

"No!" Hermione corrects. "A friend. An auror. She's making sure Harry's safe. That we're all safe."

Fleur slumps in relief. Rubs at her face. "Sorry. I am…suspicious of everything. After the DADA professor…I knew something was different. That he did not feel right. I should have believed Harry when he said it was this witch, but I did not know who anyone was. We do not know much about your wars."

And then she pats Hermione's hand with a sigh and stands up. Walks over to Tonks, still stood beside the table with Charlie, and leans up to whisper to her.

Tonks laughs. Smiles. They start talking.

Thank Merlin.

Hermione shuffles along to talk to Harry instead, the Weasleys all distracted talking, and Luna gazing into space. "Did you send the owl?" Hermione asks quietly. "I need to send one too. To Skeeter. I've had enough of her articles. Did you see the one this morning? Charlie and Tonks just told me about it."

Harry grimaces. Runs his hand through his hair and glances at Fleur. "We saw it. But we figured you had bigger things to worry about. And yeah. My letter's sent. I just hope he gets it in time. Is…"

He looks around at the rest of the table, everyone else still in conversation. "How did it go with the aurors? Everything alright?"

Hermione checks around them too. Notices Ron looking over now, but no-one else at the table…"

And Snape. Across the hall. Talking to Draco. But looking at Harry and Hermione.

She sighs, looking away. "Everything's fine. They believe me. And now that the real Moody is back, they have more information about whatever Bellatrix is up to. They've got her on the run."

Harry nods to himself. Frowns. Doesn't say anything for a while.

Looks over at Snape too. "She saved you," he eventually mutters quietly. Thoughtfully.

Yeah. Yeah, she did.

A hushed lull suddenly falls over the hall. The torches and candles around them begin to light up, shadows creeping in.

The enchanted ceiling is dark. Almost pitch black.

It's mid-afternoon. And this isn't a storm coming in.

It's the dementors. A sky full of dementors.

Chapter 18: Decipher the MessageNotes:Hi folks! 

This is probably later than you expected, right? 

But also...a lot longer! So settle in, and enjoy!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text 

They spend the night in the Great Hall, just like in third year. Sleeping bags handed out, and professors on the lookout. The dementors can't penetrate the castle walls, but they leave a lingering unease, a looming feel of threat that makes sleep near impossible. Hermione and Harry cast patronuses as often as they can, as do some of the older years and professors. McGonagall's cat slinking past to rub against them. To sit in the lap of a trembling first year. Dumbledore's phoenix patronus flies overhead every hour. Swooping around the hall and then gone, leaving them to rest in the darkness.

Snape doesn't cast a patronus, as often as he patrols past. Stands watchfully at the door. Hermione isn't sure if that's out of embarrassment…or if he can't summon the emotion.

It's difficult. Happiness. The dementors overwhelming. Hermione can't…even imagine having to spend every night like this. Every day.

Sat alone in the dark, locked away on a far-off island in the middle of the sea…

By the next morning there's still no word of Bellatrix. Or Sirius. Or Karkaroff.

And the dementors have left the grounds, off searching further afield. It's still cold out though. Winter is setting in, and even with all the fires lit, there's a chill in the air.

Maybe Fleur is right about the castle needing better insulation.

Fleur. Hermione…doesn't know what to do about that. She's sent the letter to Skeeter. The blackmail. Don't write about any of the champion's love lives, or I'll tell everyone you're an unregistered animagus. And it seems to have worked. Over a week, and no article.

People do keep staring at Hermione though. Whispering. Pointing. She's not sure if that's more because of the 'dating both Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum' rumours, or the 'saved by a Death Eater' side eyes. Lavender and Parvati beg her for details on both, but Hermione just rolls her eyes and tells them there isn't anything to tell.

Other than that, everything goes back to normal. Classes. Homework. The Durmstang students staying in a room in the dungeons near to the Slytherin Common Room now that their ship has disappeared without a trace.

Mad-Eye Moody teaching DADA on Thursday afternoons.

It's strange for everyone. Like they know him, but they don't. Used to his barking and growled orders, tapping foot and spinning eye. Even used to defending themselves from unexpected spells.

He gives them all a very dubious look when they say they've learnt everything in the book. Tests them. Asks for dozens of counter-curses.

They can all name them. Even Neville. Protego. Rennervate. Relashio. Emmancipare. Expelliarmus.

By the following Thursday, they've moved on to magical theory and fighting tactics. Auror drills. She's never seen Ron and Harry so enthusiastic.

She grimaces across the table as Ron shovels some more eggs into his mouth. "…and Viktor's told me his diet and training plan too," he says around a mouthful before swallowing, nodding towards the Slytherin table. "I think I'm getting muscles. See? And I swear I saw Lavender checking me out in class yesterday. Reckon she'll go to the Ball with me?"

He flexes his arm at Harry, who squints and nods unconvincingly. "Sure. I mean…have you ever spoken to Lavender though? What's she like? All she ever seems to do is…giggle and talk about dresses and make-up."

Ron shrugs. "Guess I'll have to get to know her. Who are you gonna ask?"

The Ball. The rest of the school doesn't know about the Ball yet. Probably won't know for another week or so.

Harry puts down his drink and looks around the Gryffindor table uncomfortably. "Umm…I haven't really thought about it. We don't have to have a partner, do we? I thought as we're not champions, we could go as friends."

Ron claps him on the shoulder. "We'll still all go together. Just thought we could give it a shot. But you could go with…Hermione! What about Hermione?"

Harry frantically shakes his head, hands raised. "No. No way. I'm not dancing in front of everyone. Champions have to dance, remember? Sorry, Hermione. I really don't want to—"

Hermione smiles. "Actually, I already told Ginny I'd go with her if we both can't find a romantic partner. Otherwise she can't come, because she's a third year."

Ron's expression turns more serious. "Ginny? Oh. So…uhh…but just as friends, right? Or…because you said about Fleur and—"

He looks around and then ducks closer to whisper, both her and Harry leaning in expectantly. "Do you want your date to be a witch? Or a wizard?" Ron asks quietly.

Well…at the moment Hermione isn't sure she wants a date at all. But that isn't really what he's asking, so…

She fiddles with her spoon, looking down at the table. Then looks up and sees Ginny watching nervously across from them, pretending to talk to Demelza Robins but obviously listening in.

Right. She can tell Ron. He doesn't have a problem with sexuality. Ginny needs to see that. That reassurance.

"I would…rather date witches, I think," Hermione says carefully but surely. "I've never felt that spark or interest in wizards. Only friendship. Nothing more. So I suppose seeing as I have to go to the Ball…I would go with a witch. If I had a choice."

There's a brief pause. It's very tense.

Then Harry just smiles. "Well, that works out then. Bet Ginny or Fleur or someone will be better at dancing than me," he jokes.

Ron nods too. Thank Merlin. For a moment she was worried he still liked her in this universe. That he was about to turn into a jealous prat or tell her she was just confused.

But no, Ron just eats more eggs and points at her with his fork. "Guess you can ask Fleur," he says matter-of-factly. "That's easy. She'll definitely say yes. And then…Harry can go with Ginny! Right? Then we're all together."

At this Ginny spits out a mouthful of pumpkin juice, coughing and spluttering and turning very red. Ah. So the crush is still there, then.

Hermione vanishes the juice with a chuckle whilst a concerned Harry hands Ginny a napkin. Tries to reach to pat her on the back and check she's not choking or—

Squawks and flapping fills the air. The owls have arrived with the morning post. Hermione's expecting the Daily Prophet, and hopefully some kind of acknowledgement from Rita Skeeter that…

Oh she has got to be kidding!

Three crows come swooping down over the Gryffindor table, cawing loudly and carry a very long, thin, large package wrapped in crumpled newspaper.

It's shaped like a broom. It's obviously a broom.

Unbelievable. Subtlety of an erumpent. Snape is right.

The crows drop it on the table, steal some bacon, and take off again.

Harry moves to touch it—

"Potter!" Snape shouts from behind them, as if she just summoned him by thought alone. Or Harry did, by being stupid. "Don't touch it. None of you even think about touching it," Snape spits.

He starts casting detection spells. The newspaper falls away. Harry's firebolt lies there innocuously on the table. Looking the same as ever.

And an owl flies over to Hermione. Drops the Prophet. And a scroll. Hoots.

Oh.

A…very familiar owl. That— that cannot be Bellatrix's owl. Or Moody's owl. Whoever it originally belonged to.

Hermione glances sideways at everyone crowding around the broom, chattering and pointing.

She picks up the Prophet. Opens it.

Picks up the scroll too. Undoes the seal under the table and then brings it behind the Prophet, pretending to read the newspaper.

As she thought. Familiar scribbled handwriting.

Granger,

Detention. Seven o'clock. If you don't know where, look out for eyes. They'll find you.

P.S. The owl is called Alastor Moody. You can keep him if you want.

The…owl?

Hermione looks at the owl warily. It's not…she didn't transfigure Moody into an owl somehow, did she?

And detention? How? Eyes? What eyes?

More and more people are gathering around now, so Hermione hastily folds up the newspaper with the note inside and puts it in her bag.

Moody comes limping past her down the aisle, which is a bit of a relief. Not a bird. Casting more detection spells and checking the broom, he and Snape and now Flitwick too hovering it over to the staff table to look at it properly.

Harry slumps to sit next to her with a heavy sigh. "I'm not gonna get it back, am I?"

She pats his back, grimacing. "Maybe not. Sorry. And…she's given me detention again. Seven o'clock."

Unsurprisingly, Harry gives her an incredulous look.

And the owl flies up to land on her shoulder.

She sighs in defeat. Gestures to it. "And this is Alastor Moody. Junior, I guess. Apparently he's mine now, or— oh!"

Junior! Alastor Moody Junior. Barty Crouch Junior.

The Marauders' Map only sees names! So in the defense classroom—

Hermione turns to look at the owl. "You're who we saw on the map? Because you have the same name? It's your name?"

The owl doesn't reply. Obviously. Just stares at her expectantly. Waiting for something.

Hermione frowns. "I…don't have a letter. Or any treats."

Moody Junior hoots at her in an almost huff, and then flies away. Off out the window again, possibly to the owlery, or maybe back to Bellatrix.

"You…you do see how crazy you look, right Hermione?" Harry laughs.

She leans down to rest her head on the table. She knows. It's Bellatrix. She has to be the reason. She makes everything…bonkers!

Harry rubs her back, getting up and grabbing his bag. "Come on. We need to get to History of Magic."

History of Magic? Ugh, Hermione is so fed up with lessons. She's done this already! She wishes she could skip her classes. Or at least go with the NEWT students and learn some more advanced magic.

Like time travel theory. That would be helpful. Why the hell is she here—

Someone grabs her hand as she passes the Ravenclaw table, tugging her back. Oh. Is it Fleur? That's quite bold, and—

No. Luna. Smiling at her softly. "Hello, Hermione. Hello, Harry. I'm sorry to stop you, but Hermione needs to know, she's going to go the wrong way. The room has changed, you see. You need the room that always changes."

"The room has changed?" Ron asks as he joins them with Seamus and Dean. "For History of Magic?"

Luna frowns. "You have History of Magic now? I have Herbology. It's terribly similar, don't you think? Although we should all be very wary of the puffpod spores. We don't need any more dizziness right now. I think everyone is dizzy enough."

Ron laughs. "Right. Okay then. I'll keep it in mind if I'm going past the greenhouses. C'mon, guys."

He heads off with the other boys, Harry hanging back to smile at Luna. "I think I know the room you mean. Thanks. Did…umm…did you get an owl today too?" he asks quietly. 

Luna shakes her head. "No. I didn't need a messenger. I had the opposite."

Opposite?

Different room…but not for this morning…a room that changes…Room of Requirement. So Hermione has to go to the Room of Requirement for 'detention'. Not the DADA classroom. And Luna didn't need a messenger…

Oh!

"She told you?" Hermione hisses. "Is she in the castle? Harry! Get the Map. We need to—"

Luna puts her hand on Harry's wrist to stop him with a light laugh. "No! She's not here. That's why you have to help her, don't you see? I'll be there too. And Neville, maybe. I think he'd like to come. I haven't asked him yet. Would you like to come too, Harry Potter? I do like talking to you."

What— so Luna talked to Bellatrix? And this detention isn't a secret meet-up or…

Neville? Why Neville?

Harry laughs uncertainly. "Umm…sure. I'll come. If this detention isn't just for Hermione?"

Luna smiles wider. "No. The words were for Hermione, what they said wasn't as important. It's the thought that counts. You'd better leave now, or we'll all be awfully late."

Right. History of Magic.

Hermione begins walking out of the Hall, not really…

A note from Bellatrix. The thought counts. The thought to…give her an owl? Talk about detention? A fake detention.

Oh.

She laughs to herself. Fake detention. Like always. None of her detentions were detentions. Not really. Bellatrix wasn't her professor.

Just someone who she talked to every week.

They begin climbing the stairs to the first floor. Luckily it's not far. They are a bit late. Not many students in the corridors now.

Empty. The school feels oddly empty. Quiet.

Should…

Should she write back? To say she got the note? Or to ask about the owl, or about…anything?

Owls are getting intercepted. Searched. You can't write to a fugitive just to be polite, or because you're curious. That's stupid. Don't be stupid. Snape's right, where has her brain gone?

She and Harry fall into the empty seats next to Ron, Professor Binns already mid-monologue and not noticing their presence. Or absence.

She takes the note from Bellatrix and the copy of the Daily Prophet out of her…bag. Oh.

She should have checked the paper! Maybe there are clues! Or another message! Or…

Nothing. That she can see. And she can't feel any magic.

She mutters a revelio.

Still nothing.

Alright then…but maybe Hermione can…

Ah. This isn't today's paper. It's the one from last Tuesday, revealing her 'romance' with Fleur. So…

If the article is about Hermione, maybe Bellatrix will look at this section too for a message, even though it's not on the front page.

She gets out her quill and ink, thinks of what she wants to say, and studies the words carefully.

…Granger, an outspoken, ambitious girl, seems to have her eyes on not only the Triwizard Cup, but also her fellow competitors. And not just the 'fellow'. Miss Granger and Beauxbatons champion Fleur Delacour, whose heated looks even I once mistook for a bitter rivalry, are reported to be growing closer by the day, often seen laughing, whispering, and sharing drinks in their free evenings outside of school and away from their professors' prying eyes. Is this the kind of inter-school relations that the tournament is promoting? And what of Viktor Krum, the wizard in the middle? Will he able to keep up with his two fiery opponents? This is a competition, after all, and only one champion can take home the prize. How far are they willing to go? You know the saying. Keep your friends close, but yourenemies closer. And it seems this competition ismore than friendly. Is this the forbidden love of star-crossed lovers? Or are the corners of this love triangle sharp enough to stab each other in the backs? Only time will tell. The first task will soon be underway, and it's all to play for, with a grand prize of…

She carefully blacks out the letters. Black. Bit of a clue. She hopes the message makes sense, even if it's cryptic and will just look like the ink has smudged.

She kind of wants to…acknowledge how open Bellatrix was with her. It's a bit of an apology. For…not accepting that handshake. She'd been too wrapped up thinking about their past. A past that Bellatrix doesn't even know about. Something this Bellatrix might never even do, seeing as she seems to want to save Hermione rather than hurt her.

So. Yes. Hermione has said that she wants to talk, and that she's tired. But really what she means is…she's sorry. And thank you. And can they start again? Back to honesty and knowing looks?

Not that they can look at each other. Yet.

Hermione needs to try to find her somehow. She'd just ask to meet if it wasn't so dangerous. Because this is the only anomaly in this timeline. Bellatrix. It all surrounds Bellatrix. Even Snape thought Bellatrix was a time traveller.

So…

She blows the ink dry, and rolls the paper back up. Ties it with some string. Puts it in her bag to take to the owlery later.

What if…

…what if Snape was right. If Bellatrix is different…

What if she's not from here either? What if Hermione isn't the only one who has crossed universes?

From somewhere. Bellatrix might not be from here…but she also isn't the Bellatrix from home…

So is she from another universe altogether?

And if so, why is she here? An accident, like Hermione?

Or did she cause this?

Is this all because of Bellatrix?

It's seven o'clock. Hermione and Harry stood awkwardly outside the Room of Requirement.

Harry clears his throat. "Do you think we should say something? Ask for…a room?"

Hermione tucks a curl behind her ear as it falls in her eyes. Then fiddles with her robes, fingers still oddly restless. "What room, though? We don't even know why we're—"

A door appears. Just a normal door, like all the other classrooms. Well then.

Harry nods. "Okay. Let's go."

And he walks straight up to the door, opening it.

But—

Oh.

Oh!

Hermione follows Harry inside, looking around in realisation. In recognition.

Crates and tanks and trunks. Cornish pixies. Hinkypunks. Alastor Moody (junior) on a perch by an open window. Plants and books scattered around.

No rat. Empty cage.

And Luna, closing a trunk and coming towards them. "Hello. Look, Neville. We have some help."

Neville…

Ah. Sat uncomfortably in a corner. Clutching a Herbology book and surrounded by different potted plants.

Harry moves into the middle of the room. "So…this is her room? All her stuff? It didn't belong to the school?"

Luna takes his hand and pulls him over to look at the pixies. "Oh, they don't belong to anyone. Creatures never do. But they do all need caring for. I don't think Professor Moody is very good at that. At caring. That's why we're needed, you see. Like this one. It needs help sleeping."

She reaches through some bars and strokes her finger down the back of the only Cornish pixie still awake, eyes wide whilst the others drift sleepily. Oh.

Hermione clears her throat. "I think it might be waiting for…a piece of food. An apple, maybe."

Luna's eyes spark as she grins at Hermione. "Aha! As I thought. Always in the right place at the right time, isn't she, Neville? Does anyone have any fruit?"

Uhh…no? Of course not. Who goes around with fruit in their—

Harry pulls an apple out of his robe pocket. Puts it down on a small table and raises his wand carefully. "Diffindo!"

A piece of the apple slices off roughly at a bit of an angle. Harry hands it to the pixie, smiling as it grabs it eagerly with its tiny hands.

Turns to look at Hermione and shrugs. "Ron. He's trying to get me to eat more."

Oh.

Hermione smiles fondly. Watches as Harry turns back around to check the other pixies and talk to Luna.

Neville clears his throat quietly. "Hermione?" He says cautiously. "Do— could you—"

He stumbles over his words. Hermione heads over to him. Pulls up a stray stool next to him. "What is it?"

He looks down at his lap. At his book. "You…you knew it was her?"

Oh.

Oh no.

"Yes…" Hermione quietly breathes out. "We— and we did try to tell Dumbledore. But…well…oh I'm sorry, Neville. I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say."

Neville takes a slow breath. Nods. "She's sorry too, I think," he whispers. Opens his book.

Then moves closer to Hermione to show her. "See? This plant. It's— it's supposed to help with— with mind healing. No-one has figured out how yet. Not for anything advanced. But— but with Herbology and Potions—"

He turns the book around so she can see the right way up. Bellatrix's handwriting is scribbled in the margins. As well as someone else's much neater, cursive writing, that Hermione doesn't recognise. Correcting Bellatrix. Crossing bits out and underlining things in green ink.

Oh.

Hermione looks up in complete shock. "This is the book on plants she gave you? What she talked to you about a few months ago?"

He nods, cheeks red with embarrassment or…shame. "I didn't know it was her. Thought it was Moody. She— and she kept telling me to ignore Professor Snape. To relax, so that I get better at potions. But I can't! I'm useless! And now I'll never be able to do it. And my parents— I can't do it! And— and it's her fault!" he ends with a shout, standing up.

Harry and Luna turn to look at him. Some of the creatures wake up, hissing and squawking.

Luna skips over. Pulls Neville into a hug, which he accepts awkwardly.

"You don't have to forgive her," Hermione says softly. "You're right. It was her fault. She was…nothing can make up for what she did. Even if she's regretting it now. And to put this on you—"

Neville pulls back, wiping at his eyes and shaking his head. "It's not on me. She— she said she'd help. Anything I need. Ingredients. Plants. Money. Said she'd research more. That she knows people who can help too. She just— she said she couldn't right now. That she had to do something else first, was busy. I thought she meant teaching, but…now I understand why. She can't help. Because she's a criminal. Is on the run. Is supposed to— to be in Azkaban because she—"

He breaks off again.

Hermione hears the tap start to run at the sink. Water filling a glass.

Harry comes over and gives the glass of water to Neville. "Here. Just…sip at it. It helps. And— and I get it. If Voldemort suddenly wanted to help me get my parents back then— Well it wouldn't happen, but I still wouldn't want to work with him. Even if he could help."

Neville nods. Sits down on the floor with Luna and obediently sips at his drink.

Harry walks over to Moody Junior to stroke him and give him a treat. Pet him. Look out the window at the stars. "But if she's right, if there's a way to help…we'll help you too, Nev. You know loads about plants, but so does Professor Sprout. And Hermione is great with everything! Right? You could help with potions. And mind magic! What about…Snape! You said he knew legilimency."

Luna laughs. "Professor Snape reading minds? Oh no, that's just asking for trouble. He doesn't understand minds at all. Not even his own. No, to help Mr and Mrs Longbottom, we're going to need to help somebody else first."

Neville frowns at her. "Who?"

Luna leans over and takes his book from his lap. Opens it to the earlier page, and taps on the neater handwriting. "This person. See? They're already helping."

Neville huffs out a laugh. "Yes, but we don't know who that is, Luna. Moody— Bellatrix wouldn't tell me," he says gently.

Luna doesn't reply. Just looks at Hermione. Then at Harry.

Harry kneels down to look at the writing. Runs his finger over it. "It looks like…Draco? Is that his writing? It's neat like his."

Draco? How could it possibly be— oh!

"Narcissa!" Hermione says in sudden realisation. "That's why it's— Of course! She's the only person who would know about this and be helping Bellatrix. But she—"

"She's in St Mungo's too," Neville finishes for her. "I saw her there over the summer when I was visiting the ward. She didn't stay for long. They let her go home and get her treatment there because Lucius Malfoy came and shouted at everyone, but— but she has memory loss! It's the same problem."

Luna sighs sadly, head in hands. "It is all a bit of a muddle. That silly Bellatrix Black. She does make things very complicated for herself."

Harry scoffs. "More like for everyone else. This is her fault, Luna. All of it. She obliviated Mrs Malfoy too."

Luna stands up. Wanders over calmly to the spiders and bends down to look int their small, glass tank. "Yes. She's quick to take. But it isn't always her intention. And it seems she wants to give now. If people will let her."

She turns. Eyes fixed on Hermione. "And Narcissa Malfoy may have lost her memories, but she hasn't lost her brain. I think if I knew there were some years missing…I'd try very hard to get back what I'd lost."

So…Narcissa might be trying to cure herself? Is that possible? Is that why she's at home?

Can she cure herself? How smart is she? She's just…a pureblood snob. Holds events, and parties, and pays people off. Is she—

Hermione looks back at the Herbology notes. Scans the page. And then Bellatrix's…

Hmm. Well, that's one theory. But surely it would need to be sliced. If Bellatrix chopped it like that, then it would lose—

That's what Narcissa said. If it is Narcissa.

And— oh! Oh that's so clever!

Hermione quickly imagines a blackboard, and then rushes over to it, grabbing some chalk before the idea leaves her head. "Neville! Did you see what she said about membranes? Plant membranes and phytosterals, but also cell membranes in the brain! If magical plants hold the properties for cell regrowth then…"

Hermione pauses. Wait. If Narcissa wrote that, knew the answer, then…

She slowly turns back around. "This could help Narcissa. It's her own work. Her own research. Why— why did Bellatrix give this to you? Is she…deliberately keeping the information from Narcissa? Keeping her without her memories?"

Harry runs a hand through his hair. "Well she did obliviate her on purpose. There must be a reason. But…do you think we should send the book back to Mrs Malfoy. Or…I don't know…give it to Draco?"

Hermione groans to herself. She doesn't know! She doesn't know what Bellatrix is doing. What she's thinking. What if there is a reason, an important reason, and they just haven't figured it out yet?

She looks to Luna, almost pleadingly. Luna always seems to know what's going on. What to do.

Luna comes over and takes the chalk from her. And the book. "Lots of very interesting ideas. I am looking forward to the answers. But for now, I would like some help with the hinkypunks. And the doxies. And billywigs. And perhaps you could give the owl something to deliver. He might like another journey."

Oh. The newspaper.

Hermione reaches around in her bag and pulls it out. Casts a charm on it against the rain.

Takes a breath, and walks over to give it to Moody Junior, stroking his feathers. "Could you take this to Bellatrix? I'm not sure where she is…"

She gets an immediate hoot in response, and the owl leaves through the open window, off into the dark sky.

Well. There's no going back now. She's officially corresponding with a fugitive.

Not for the first time. She's been a fugitive before. Undesirable Number Two.

She wonders which Black cousin is Priority Number One—

She turns as a buzzing fills the air. The billywigs.

"Ow!"

And one immediately stings Neville. He starts to float.

Of course.

Luna sighs wistfully, skipping over to look up at him. "Flying. How fun. You are ever so lucky, Neville."

Hermione wakes up early on Saturday. Gets an early breakfast. Borrows the Marauders' Map from Harry just to…well just to check it. Just in case.

Most people are still in the Common Rooms or Teachers' Quarters. Dumbledore is in his office. Snape in one of the rooms in the dungeons. Alone.

Oh. And here comes Viktor. Up the stairs. Through the Entrance Hall.

She looks up as the doors open. Catches his eye and waves him over.

He makes his way towards her with a nod and sits down, pulling eggs and…salad towards him. And some ham. And cheese. Continental breakfast. She doesn't really understand how he can stomach it, first thing in the morning.

She just munches on her toast. "How did you sleep? Is it okay in the dungeons? Not too cold? Are the other students friendly?"

He groans. Reaches for some coffee. "You talk too much in morning. Brain awake. Too awake." He takes a large mouthful. Swallows. Sighs. "But…yes. Is good. In Durmstrang we have castle also. Not as big as this, or as comfortable, I am thinking," he explains.

Hermione nods encouragingly, even though she's heard it all before. It's nice that he feels confident enough to talk to her now, especially with less people around.

"We have just four floors," he continues. "And the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But we have grounds larger than these — though in winter, we have very little daylight, so we are not enjoying them. But in summer we are flying every day, over the lakes and the mountains —"

There's a scoff from behind them. "Well thank goodness that you can fly! Mon dieu, another cold castle?"

And Fleur sits down on Hermione's other side. Oh no. Oh people are starting to look. More and more as they arrive for breakfast. This—

"Fleur!" she hisses. "Are you sure— Don't you have to stay away from me? From both of us? Madam Maxime—"

"—Is still asleep. She sleeps long in the weekends. It is fine, Cherie. Let me talk to my…well, apparently we are all lovers, non?"

Hermione fights a blush, trying to act casual as Fleur leans past her to reach the orange juice.

Fleur just smiles at her. Quite cheekily. "You know, at the Palace of Beauxbatons, we have ice sculptures all around the dining chamber at Christmas. They do not melt, of course. They are like…huge statues of diamond, glittering around the place."

She gestures at the empty Hall. Helps herself to some pastries and fruit, putting some on Hermione and Viktor's plates too. "And the food is simply superb. We have choirs of wood nymphs, who serenade us as we eat. And none of this ugly armour in the halls, and if a poltergeist ever entered into Beauxbatons, he would be expelled like that," and she snaps her fingers, glaring around at the ceiling. Oh.

Hermione looks around too. "Did…are you having a bad morning or something? Did you run into Peeves?"

Fleur quirks an eyebrow. "Peeves? Non. Not today. But he has ruined my outfit many times this year. It is ridiculous. You should not have to put up with these things. Not in a respectable school. Hogwarts has a reputation! I am disappointed. Everything here is…dangerous! Dementors! Around the little children. And the staircases that move, or the steps that disappear, or the forest, that is forbidden but with no guards or barriers! It is madness!"

Hermione laughs. She does have a point. She'd thought it was just the wizarding world that was always slightly manic, but maybe it's just Magical Britain and the rest of the world is a lot more sensible.

She grins at Fleur. "But it's more fun, right? More unexpected? There's never a dull moment here."

Fleur sighs. Nods in defeat, a smile pulling at her lip. "Very…unexpected. Yes. Everything is a surprise since I arrive here. Just when I think I understand, there is something else. Usually because of you. It seems you like the danger and the adventure."

Hermione snorts into her glass. Oh no! Attracting danger and adventure? Is she the Harry of this world? "I can't help it! It just happens to me!"

Fleur pats her hand. Then…leaves her hand there. Rests it there. "I am not so sure about that. What do you think, Viktor?"

Viktor looks up from where he'd been slowly eating and frowns. "I think…that my parents will wonder what happens here. They will think I am…liking two witches. And that I am in danger from dementors and criminals. And that Headmaster Karkaroff has abandoned the students. I…expect very long letter."

And he looks over to the window where the owls are beginning to arrive. More post.

It's been hours now since she sent the message to Bellatrix. She wonders…

Hermione swallows nervously as her eyes scan the birds. Feels her palms begin to sweat and— Why is Fleur holding her hand? She's making everything more complicated. Even if she's just joking, and— but she keeps smiling! She's so beautiful. All the time. How is Hermione supposed to not—

Viktor doesn't get an owl. Fleur does though, and thankfully let's go of Hermione to open her letter and some chocolates from her family. Her sister. She must miss them. Tears making her eyes shine as she reads.

Not that Fleur acknowledges it. Just sniffs, shakes her head with a smile, and then makes Hermione and Viktor try the chocolates. Chocolate, at nine in the morning.

Hermione politely declines, pushing the box away. "No, thank you. I'm sure they're lovely, but they're yours, and it's honestly too early for me to even think about— mmpf!"

Fleur just pushes one into her mouth, eyes gleaming. Looking very smug as Hermione realises this is the best chocolate she has ever eaten. Ever. What is in this? Godric, it's— She might have actually moaned aloud. How embarrassing.

And just as Harry, Ron, and Ginny sit down opposite her. Ginny's eyebrows raise in question, Harry's eyes also darting back and forth to her chosen breakfast companions.

She knows, okay? It's not ideal.

But can she have another chocolate?

Ron pulls some food towards him, still bleary-eyed and not seeming to sense the awkward atmosphere. "Morning," he half yawns. "Is…uhh…"

He drifts off. Seems to freeze. Looks up to stare at Fleur, mouth hanging open.

Fleur sighs quietly and casts another shield charm under the table at him. "Good morning. I hope you all slept well. Do you want some chocolate? They are the best in all of France. Perhaps the whole world. I have never tasted chocolate so good, wherever I go. My family has sent them to me especially."

Ginny hides a scoff behind her hand, sharing a look with Hermione that seems to say 'can you believe this witch?'

Hermione just shrugs back. Tilts her head to say 'no, but seriously, she has a point this time.'

Harry looks between them, utterly confused, and then just reaches for a chocolate, whispering a thank you. Nudges the box towards Ron.

Amazingly, Ron shakes his head. "I'm good. Got to stick to that diet plan, right Viktor? Can't have empty calories. Here, Harry, have some of this too."

He passes a dish.

Ginny takes a chocolate instead, smiling at Fleur. "You hear 'best chocolate in the world' and say no? Even quidditch isn't worth that. Besides, it's good to stay healthy, but you don't want to gain too much muscle. You've got to be light. That's what's good about quidditch. You want to be soaring, not swinging around like a boulder."

Viktor nods. "This is also what I think. This is why I am seeker. Flight is the most fun. Hovering and following wind like bird. But Ron is also right. He wants to be keeper, see? Must be strong. Big to fill hoop."

Ginny leans further over the table to talk to him. "Or he could be light and quick. It's not about size. Trust me. I'm just as good a keeper as him, even if I'm half his weight."

"Just as good?" Ron squawks, mouth open. "You're not bloody— You're fast, yeah. Agile. But keeper? No way."

Krum chuckles. "I am interested to see. Maybe we ask professors for…friendly game."

And Ron, Harry, and Ginny all freeze in utter shock, faces draining of colour and then both Weasleys turning beetroot as they croak and splutter about being good but not that good. But that they're not saying no. But they might need some training. Or warning. And that he must be trying to bloody kill them if—

Fleur leans to whisper to Hermione, putting an arm around her waist. "I think Viktor is needing a 'quidditch star' shield. Perhaps you can invent one for him? So they are thinking clearly?"

Hermione laughs again. Tries to ignore how close Fleur is. She might need a shield of her own. How has she never noticed— Does Fleur always sit this close? Whisper this much? Joke this much? She's so flirty! And— and now that Hermione has kind of realised that she might have an attraction to witches…

Hermione's head turns without really meaning to. And now she's very close to Fleur. Oh no. Don't look at her mouth. Don't—

And Hermione jumps out of her skin as a crow lands on the table with a loud caw. Shit. Wha—

Crow?

And a piece of parchment.

She reaches—

The crow snaps at her. Hops over to Harry instead and offers its leg.

Harry takes it. Cautiously. The crow grabs his toast and flies off.

"You use these black birds here?" Viktor asks. "It is clever. These birds are clever. But long distance, not good."

They all just smile nervously at him, not knowing what to say. How to say that the person writing doesn't have an owl to…

Bellatrix should have an owl. Did Moody Junior not get back to her yet?

Harry scans the note. Smiles confusedly, seemingly surprised. "It's…from my uncle. He's in the area…camping, with his dog. He's just checking I'm okay, and reminding me to stay in the castle. To stay safe with the dementors around."

Uncle? Dog?

Harry catches Hermione's eye and laughs. "He even signed it with a paw print."

He shows Hermione the note.

A muddy paw print. And sharp, slanted writing.

Sirius. Not Bellatrix. He must be using crows too becausehe doesn't have an owl.

…and he says he's camping in a cave up the mountain. Waiting for the dementors to leave. Oh.

That cave? The same as before? And he just told Harry where it is? He should be more careful!

Although to be fair, he probably doesn't know how suspicious the crows look after Bellatrix's 'delivery'.

Fleur suddenly stands up, looking across the hall. "Merde. She is awake. I have to go. Perhaps I will see you all again soon. Tomorrow? I will try tomorrow."

Viktor stands up too. "Yes, is time to start day. I go train. You come too, Ron? Harry? Or…what is your name?"

And now everyone is getting up, Ginny climbing out of the bench and holding her hand out to Viktor. "Ginny Weasley. And I'm definitely coming for training. What kind of training? If it's fitness, I bet I can run around the grounds faster than you. Me and my friend Luna do it allthe time."

Viktor laughs loudly, making his way out of the hall with her and Ron. "Maybe. I am not often running. I swim. But today we can do both. We run, then swim. And the winner…I don't know. What is prize? For winner?"

And Hermione doesn't find out what the prize is either, because they've already walked off and turned the corner out of the door, eager to start. So competitive.

She shakes her head at Harry, who is still finishing his breakfast. "You're not going with them?"

"Nah. Voluntarily sprinting around the lake and then jumping in? Swimming? It's December! They're nuts." He shudders dramatically. Pouts himself a cup of tea.

Then picks up Sirius' letter. "Do…I know he said stay in the castle," he whispers. "But if we use the cloak…can we go see him? Bring him some food? He must be starving if— and you know where he is, right? From before?"

Hermione sighs. "Harry, it's dangerous. He literally said stay in the castle. Even he knows—"

"I know," Harry interrupts. "But…we both know how to cast patronuses, and…well Sirius isn't dangerous. And even Bellatrix isn't really dangerous. At least it doesn't seem like she is. Can't we just go see him? Just for a little bit? I want to check he's okay. He's all alone, surrounded by dementors, up a mountain without food, or clothes, or— And he's here to be close to me."

Well…

Winter is setting in. They could bring Sirius some blankets. Give him some supplies. Check in on him.

And maybe find out what he was going to tell them about Bellatrix…

Hermione nods. "Alright. But not today. We can go to the top of one of the towers in a bit and check how far away the dementors are. We're not going if they're still in Hogsmeade. Only once they've left."

Harry sighs. "Fine. I guess that makes sense. A few more days can't hurt."

Hermione looks up at the cloudy ceiling.

No. It can't. And…Hermione doesn't know why, but as anxious as she is to figure things out…

She really feels like she needs another day or two. A break. To sort her head out. Everything is just so…confusing.

"So! Hermione!" a voice comes from next to her, making her jump.

She groans. "What is it, Parvati?"

Lavender sits down on her other side. "Oh, nothing. We were just wondering if you had a nice breakfast. With Viktor. And Fleur. You know, Professor Trelawney told us that because of the conjunction between the Moon and Neptune right now, it's normal to be feeling more dreamlike and passive, so it's alright if you just let things happen. And you might be quite sensitive and emotional because of Capricorn, of course."

"But," Parvati jumps in, "she also said that because of the conjunction with the Moon and Uranus, a new romantic love affair could appear in your life!" she practically squeals. "Isn't that exciting? Romance is in the air for all of us!"

Hermione holds back a snort and just nods with the pitiful amount of enthusiasm she can muster. Sure. New romance. Because she doesn't have enough confusion on that front already.

Fantastic.

Harry nudges her excitedly as they sneak out of the trap door and into Honeydukes. "No dementors. See? They've left! Come on!"

Hermione reluctantly follows along close to him, not wanting her feet to become exposed as he gets further ahead. There aren't many people around, only villagers. It's not a Hogsmeade weekend.

They should be in the castle. She can't believe she's doing this, she'd thought the dementors would stick around longer, not be gone the next day!

"Careful!" she hisses to Harry. "People could still hear us. A muffiliato doesn't cover everything!"

He nods, but still pulls the door open so that it bangs and the bell jingles. Harry!

He grins at her. "The wind. It's blowing a gale. It's fine!"

Hermione grips the cloak around them snuggly. Not fine if the invisibility cloak gets blown away!

They make their way awkwardly up the High Street. Past Dervish and Banges, and soon out of the village altogether, wandering up the winding lane past the occasional cottage. The foot of the mountain.

They stare up at it, not looking forward to the climb ahead, and leaning against the stile. "Cloak off?" Harry asks.

Hermione pulls it free of them, glad to be able to breathe more freely, but really feeling the cold now, hastily casting warming spells. "Off. And I brought a thermos too in my bag, so let me know if you want to stop for a drink. It's pretty high up."

They climb over the stile and start trudging, pulling woollen hats further over their ears against the biting chill.

"Wish I had my broom back," Harry mutters. "We could be up there in seconds."

Hermione just gives him a look, resisting the urge to groan into her hands. "Yes, and let everyone see," she says slowly. Pointedly. "A broomstick heading straight up a mountain. Not suspicious at all. In this weather. For no reason. After a known fugitive escaped on the same firebolt—"

"Okay, okay, maybe not!" Harry pants as they scramble up the rocky ground. "I just thought there might be an easier way up a mountain. Like…are we forgetting magic or something? What would Ron say?"

Hermione scoffs. Keeps walking. Ron is in the hospital wing with pneumonia, as is Ginny. Apparently diving into the lake in the middle of winter is not a good idea, even with a warming spell.

They're fine, of course. Nothing a pepper-up potion and a night's rest couldn't fix. It's more that they're being kept there as a lesson. For their 'unthinking idiocy' as McGonagall called it when she found them coughing and shivering in the Common Room.

Viktor is in trouble too. For being a bad influence on the younger years. So…not the most common way to start a new friendship. But a bit of a bonding experience.

Hermione stops to lean against a rock. Nearly there. Can't be far.

"What about…teleporting?" Harry asks. "Is that a thing?"

Hermione smiles. Starts climbing again. He's so young. "Apparition. It's called apparition, but it's like teleporting, yes. You have to learn to do it and get a license once you're seventeen."

He nods to himself. They carry on climbing for a bit, navigating a narrow passage and then a steep incline. "I can apparate," she eventually continues, now that they're on an easier path. "So I could side-apparate you. Transport you. But Sirius might have anti-apparition wards in place. He should, if he's clever. And anti-muggle—"

Aha! There it is!

She points up to the cave entrance. "He should be there. Hang on. Let me just feel out for him…"

Sirius. Come on, can you feel…

Sirius. Yes. It feels like the Marauders' Map. And a bit like Grimmauld Place. Sirius. It's strong. He must have wards. So at least—

Bellatrix

Hermione screeches to a stop, grabbing hold of Harry. Casts a muffiliato.

It can't be.

Bellatrix

But why is she—

Bellatrix. Definitely Bellatrix.

She holds backs a shiver. A shudder.

And throws the cloak over her and Harry. "It's Bellatrix!" she hisses. "She's here too! Both of them! I don't— Come on!"

Harry's eyes widen, and then narrow in determination as he and Hermione practically crawl up to the lip of the cave, peeking over.

It's dark. Hard to see inside, even if they squint. No sign of—

Harry edges closer—

"Did you feel that?" calls Bellatrix's voice. "In the wards?"

Hermione holds her breath.

"Shut up!" Sirius shouts back harshly. Louder. Closer. "You're not tricking me again, I told you. I'm not talking to you!"

A cackling laugh echoes across stone, sending another shiver right up Hermione's spine. "But you are talking to me," Bellatrix sing-songs. "So stop being so stubborn, and—"

Sirius growls. A human growl, but still quite fierce. And frustrated. "Go away! Get— fuck off! I told you. That's your side, and this is my side. See? There. The line is right there, and you know it. From the rock to the puddle. Don't pretend you can't— Bella!"

A sigh. And footsteps. "I'm just coming to get a little look! Didn't you feel it? Someone tripped the wards! And— Hey!"

A scraping thud. "That's my newspaper!" Bellatrix shouts. "How did you get it? I sent it to Hermione! Are you stealing my letters now?"

Sirius laughs. A bark. "What happened to sharing? I thought—"

There's some more scraping sounds. Stone crumbling. Some kind of kerfuffle. Light smacking sounds.

Hermione slowly raises her eyebrows at Harry. Are they…fighting? Squabbling? What—

There's a bark. A woof.

"Cheat!" Bellatrix calls. "Just admit that I'm stronger than you now, and let me give you some—"

And then a black dog is bounding towards them out of the darkness, tongue hanging out and sniffing the air.

Harry yanks the cloak off them without warning, a hesitant smile on his face. "Hi, Padfoot."

And Sirius transforms in an instant, pulling Harry up and into a hug. "Harry! What are you doing here? I told you, it's safe at Hogwarts."

He pulls back, cupping Harry's face and bending to look him in the eyes. "I hope that you are not here on my account. I'd hate for anything to happen to you. Your safety is of utmost importance. Do you understand?"

Harry nods, a guilty look forming.

And a scoff echoes out of the cave. "Why are you talking like that, Wagtail? You're not Cissy. Or Dumbledore. Why have you suddenly turned into the wise, all knowing godfather. Heed my words, young Harry. The road is dark, but there is light ahead—"

Sirius whirls around. "Stay back!" he bellows. "Stay inside! You know my conditions. I said I'd consider talking to you, but only if—"

Bellatrix comes into view. Steps out into the light. Just walks casually out of the cave, rolling her eyes at Sirius.

Leans against the rock. Looks Hermione up and down.

Grins. "Hi Granger. Nice of you to drop in. Sorry I had to leave so suddenly."

Notes:So some of you guessed it! There's more than one Black in that cave!

...Sorry not sorry for the awful cliffhanger ;)