Murder Most Horrid - Case 2: The Chameleon Descendance - Useful_Oxymoron - Harry Potter (2024)

Chapter 1: Domestic bliss

Chapter Text

With the tell-tale pop of a person emerging from the floo network, Bellatrix arrived home after a long day of work. Eager to get rid of her boots, she kicked them off, collected them, and put them next to the fireplace. The dark-haired witch let out a blissful sigh and took a moment to simply enjoy the feeling of the deep-pile carpet underneath her feet and between her toes.

A flick of the wrist later, Bellatrix' curved wand found its place in her trusty old glass, now located on the mantlepiece above a lovely fireplace. Today's evening newspaper had already already placed on the wooden table next to the sofa, ready for her to read. Perfect! She quickly sat down on the sofa and simply enjoyed the feeling of being home. A proper home. In retrospect, she had stuck around in that titchy appartment for far too long.

"Pet?" Bellatrix called out. "Are you home?"

No answer. Hermione was obviously still at work. Odd. Usually Hermione got home before she did. Bellatrix still had her work-o-holic tendencies, after all.

However, Crookshankswasat home; the half-kneazle was sat underneath the coffee-table, looking at her with that disdainful 'I just don't get what Hermione sees in you'-expression on his feline face.

"Bollocks to you too, Crookshanks," muttered Bellatrix. She had more important things to worry about than a cat's disapproval. Honestly, if it had been up to her, Crookshanks would have been dumped somewhere in the middle of London months ago. Preferably near a dog kennel.

Seeing the date on the front page of the newspaper, she realized that her second anniversary was fast approaching; she and Hermione had been together for almost two years. True, even after all this time it felt quite surreal to share her life with someone else, perhaps this was because she had been alone for so long. She glanced at the calendar hung next to the kitchen door; it would be a month or two still. The year 2000, it said in big letters at the very top of the calendar. It was supposedly a magical year. Bellatrix couldn't really agree with that; so far it seemed just like any other year before it. The only thing special about it, had been Andie's meticulously organized new year's party. Merlin, she chuckled to herself when she remembered just how embarrassingly drunk she'd been that evening.

At the start of her relationship with Hermione, it quickly became obvious that Bellatrix' old apartment was just too small for them to live comfortably on the long term... and it had been obvious that the both of them would very much be interested in a long term relationship. Both of them decided that, as soon as Hermione graduated proper from Hogwarts, they would start looking for a new place to live. Fortunately, Hermione had been headhunted by the Ministry straight out of school, and with the both of them having a proper job meant that they had more options.

That is not to say that finding a new home had been easy. Bellatrix preferred solitude while Hermione was still a city girl at heart who preferred a more social environment. They tried a couple of apartments, but never lived anywhere longer than a couple of months before they decided the place wasn't to their liking. Sometimes it was the size, sometimes it was the location in the city, sometimes it was the neighbours and sometimes it was just a nebulous 'it just didn't feel right'. The longest they lived somewhere was an apartment in Wizarding London, near Greenwich park, before settling on their current home. A home where the both of them definitely wanted to live out the rest of their days.

The house they finally decided was Rosewood cottage, an old farmhouse converted into a more modern home from the 1800s located in Cotswolds. It was secluded and far into the countryside, yet within walking distance of Mould-on-the-wold. The rolling hills and woods of Cotswold were a soothing sight to behold, much better than the view from her old apartment. Add lovely clean air to the mix and it made for quite a difference from even the wizarding quarters in London.

The home itself was lovely. The living room was spacious, the kitchen and dining room well-fitted and, upstairs, their bedroom had enough room for her old beloved queen-sized bed and led onto a nice balcony to sit on in the evenings. Their furniture was a mixture of magic and Muggle, with all the lights in the house being of a magical nature. As farmhouses of that age tended to have, the ceiling of their living room had been lined with heavy wooden beams, adding to the aesthetic. The previous owners had left walnut wood paneling in the hallway and neither of them had seen any reason to remove those. All it all, it was a wonderful place to live.

That is not to say that the first two months living there had been an absolute nightmare. When they bought it, the house had been deserted for almost a decade and, as such, it had taken them some time to actually make the house livable. The goblin contractors had done a wonderful job, but the problem was the budget: after some annoying setbacks, the money had simply run out and a lot of home improvement projects had been put on hold until the both of them had managed to gain more savings. Unfortunately, saving up more money was going a lot slower than they hoped for.

There was still plenty left to do; the plumbing had its share of problems, the guestroom hadn't been finished, most rooms didn't have proper furnishing yet and though they had started to convert the granary which was built against the cottage into a library tower to house Hermione's massive collection of books, they only really had the budget to convert the ground floor. The planned second floor study would simply have to wait. Then there was the little fact that both Bellatrix and Hermione would be paying mortgage until ten years after their deaths. It was a good incentive to keep pestering Jensen for that ever elusive pay-rise.

"Oh, bugger," Bellatrix groaned when she remembered that it was actually her turn to make dinner this evening. Or rather, arrange dinner. With a sigh, she tossed the paper back on the table and reluctantly, very reluctantly, rose from the sofa.

Bellatrix never cooked and neither did Hermione. Though Hermione at least liked to dabble once in a while, Bellatrix' long workdays had always meant that the dark-haired witch existed on pub food and take-away for the last twenty years. That certainly hadn't changed, especially since Hermione had explicitly forbidden Bellatrix from using the muggle kitchen ever again after Bellatrix' last experiment had resulted in a nasty and rather expensive gas explosion. Bellatrix scoffed as she remembered Hermione giving her a stern reprimand. If they had gotten a magical oven like normal people, that explosion would never have happened in the first place. Still, Hermione was rather cute when she's seriously cross.

Honestly, cooking with gas?! What nonsense.

So, Bellatrix idea of cooking was to write her order on a piece of paper and taking it to the window near their owlry. Though owlry was a big word since it was more like a wooden hutch. In the owlry, Horus, their proud eagle-owl, was already waiting for it. By now, Horus already knew how to find his way to every single take-away place in Mould-on-the-Wolt. As soon as the food was ready, it would be apparated right onto their dinner table. All she had left to do was wait, both for Hermione and for the food. The dark-haired witch sat down on her comfy couch and just relaxed for a moment.

For the first time since ages, Bellatrix was thinking about her future again; and a certain brown-haired young witch played an essential role in every single scenario. Her life had changed so much, and for the better; Bellatrix had started to work more normal hours, stopped drinking alcohol alone and even had to admit that she had become somewhat more sociable. Her family had certainly noticed the difference and Andie was often a visitor to their home. One thing that would probably never change was that unruly curly mop on top her head. She'd given up on ever getting her hair to cooperate. At least Hermione didn't seem to mind.

Not that there weren't bumps in the road, of course. One of the major conflicts she had had with Hermione had been about central heating of all things. It was a muggle invention which Hermione had insisted on being installed in their cottage. Bellatrix remembered the two getting into a big fight over it. Bellatrix had allowed muggle inventions to a degree: Hermione had her muggle heritage, after all, and she understood the need to express one's heritage. But running pipes through the cottage and hanging giant metal eyesores from the walls while the cottage had a perfectly good fireplace had been a bridge too far for Bellatrix. It wasn't until Andromeda had advocated central heating as a gift from Merlin that Bellatrix reluctantly agreed to having it installed. Right now, she had to admit that it had been a good decision; the radiators and pipes might be absolute eyesores, but they certainly made the cottage nicely warm and comfortable on cold winter days.

So, with food ordered, her lovely home warm and the sofa soft and inviting, Bellatrix picked up the paper and finally started to relax.

It was a slow news day, but there was an editorial on Purity Front members attacking or hexing muggle-borns in the street. This seemed to have become a more common occurrence over the past year and a cause of quite a bit of concern in the DMLE. According to the editorial, the Front was not doing enough to distance themselves from these attacks. Apparently, a spokesperson of the Front had stated that the Purity Front was not responsible for the behaviour of their members and that the Front 'promotes peace and harmony for all pure-bloods'.

Bellatrix snorted at that; the Front were experts at rabble-rousing and it would only be a matter of time before an overzealous Front member would kill someone right in the street. The Front would probably even find a way to exploit it.

She didn't get further into the story, however. A very tired looking Hermione poofed into existence as she emerged from the fireplace.

"Ah, welcome home, pet," Bellatrix said as she put the paper to her side.

"Belle," Hermione offered her a loving smile. "You have no idea how good it is to see you. I have hadsucha horrible day."

The young witch did indeed look rather stressed. Though Bellatrix and Hermione both worked at the Ministry, their workplaces were several levels apart. Both of them were professional enough not to bother each other outside of lunch hours. However, office gossip had reached her ear about some commotion at Hermione's workplace.

"C'mere, pet," she motioned; Hermione almost collapsed on top of her and, after a brief but loving brush of lips, the young witch turned around and leaned into Bellatrix. Immediately, the dark-haired witch started to gently massage Hermione's shoulders. "Tell me all about it."

"A dragon escaped from the sanctuary in Wales," said Hermione while she closed her eyes and relaxed under Bellatrix's touch. "It was a complete disaster."

Hermione, as a rising star in the Ministry, currently had a prestigious apprenticeship at the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Her job did put a lot of pressure on her young shoulders on a normal day, but a dragon escaping would have been an occasion for panic.

"We captured it after two hours, but by then it had had plenty of time to rampage through the countryside, murdering whole flocks of sheep. The rest of the day was spent doing damage control. I had to draft a formal apology to the Prime Minister. That damn dragon was seen, pictures were taken and some of those pictures ended up on the internet. Oh, god, I hate the internet so much!"

"Right," said Bellatrix as she continued her massage. "So what's this internet thing then?"

"Well," Hermione sighed heavily. "It's got to do with computers..."

"Ooooohhhhh dear," Bellatrix chuckled, knowing that computers were still a hot-button issue for her beloved girlfriend.

"It's a whole bunch of computers networked together so muggles can share information incredibly quickly. Those dragon pictures were spread to all four corners of the world in a manner of minutes. We had to involve the Department of Misinformation and Ministries of other nations. It almost became a full-on international incident with me caught in the middle. Don't ask me how we got it done, but we did. And after all my hard work... my supervisor steps in and takes all the credit for himself."

"Aw," Bellatrix replied with sympathy. Hermione was still getting used to navigating the inner workings and office politics of the Ministry. But her girl was a quick learner and rarely made the same mistake twice: her supervisor wouldn't be able to bamboozle her ever again.

"But mark my words, this internet-thing is going to be a real problem for the wizarding world if it keeps growing like it does."

"What kind of information do muggles share on this internet thing, then?" she asked

"From what I understand, it's mostly for p*rnography, Star Trek and cat pictures."

"Oh, I am intrigued all of a sudden."

Hermione groaned. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Maybe you could appease this 'internet' with pictures of Crookshanks..."

"I'm not putting Crookshanks on the internet!" Hermione interrupted. "Hm, let's switch up."

Bellatrix was only to eager to do so; the dark-haired witch leaned into Hermione and let her nimble fingers gently rub her shoulders. Soon enough, Bellatrix found herself purring like a happy kitten. "How was your day, Belle?" Hermione asked.

"Hm," replied Bellatrix. "Not quite as harrowing as yours, but just as annoying. A missing person case turned into a murder investigation."

"Oh? What happened?" Hermione asked.

"Muggle police fished a kid from the Thames this morning. Turned out to be one of us so DMLE agents secured the body in the deepest of secret. It was a young kid, Muggle-born, Hufflepuff, graduated two years ago, had been working at the tavern in Hogsmeade. One day he just stopped showing up for work. He'd been missing for over six months. Bombur and I went up there to canvas Hogsmeade, talk to people, looking for clues, but… Nobody really knew him, he had no relatives, no girlfriend. There was no reason for him to disappear, no motives for his murder. The body had been in the water too long, so Barty couldn't draw any conclusions either. He might have even thrown himself into the Thames as far as we know. It's just one big blank."

"That's so sad," Hermione said softly. "I forget that your job can be so much more depressing than mine. At least you know who he is so he can get a proper funeral."

"Sometimes cases just… go cold and never get solved," Bellatrix sighed heavily while Hermione kept massaging.

"It's not your fault," said Hermione. Bellatrix smiled to herself; Hermione knew her well enough to realize that Bellatrix regarded a case going cold as a bitter personal failure.

"Isn't it? I'm supposed to solve these cases," Bellatrix said with a rather demure tone of voice. "This one just goes into a drawer and will never see the light of day again. One local goblin knew him and he's agreed to talk to us. We'll be hearing him tomorrow at the office. But I don't think it'll lead to anything, if I'm honest. I just have to try."

Before the conversation could continue its depressing direction, there was the sound of magical energy dispersing from the dining room. "Food's here," said Hermione as she stopped her massage and stepped off the couch.

"Hey, you're abandoning me for food?!" Bellatrix-mocked whined as Hermione ignored her and rushed into the dining room.

"Hmmmmm, Chinese!" Hermione called back to the living room, confirming that she had indeed been abandoned for food.

A smile still on her face, Bellatrix walked in after Hermione. Enjoying some Chinese food with Hermione would be just what they both needed.

There was something else Bellatrix thought Hermione needed. After a simple yet lovely dinner, the dark-haired witch had dragged her young girlfriend upstairs where Hermione was now lying face-down on their bed, stripped down to only wearing her jeans. Hm, yes, jeans. One of the better Muggle inventions, Bellatrix found. Her girlfriend flaunted unwritten rules of dress-code of the Ministry by wearing these jeans to work. Considering she used to be a stickler for rules, even unwritten ones, Bellatrix would like to think that was her influence at play. As it was, the jeans fitted nice and tightly around Hermione's legs and showed off her bum quite nicely.

The dark-haired witch tapped her girlfriend on the bum a couple of times, earning herself a giggle from Hermione.

"Hm," said Bellatrix while rubbing some scented rose oil on her hands. "Just relax."

"I already am," Hermione closed her eyes and smooshed her cheek into the pillow. She'd already tied her hair into a bun to keep it from getting in the way. Indeed, her girl was ready for her treat. The dark-haired witch straddled her beloved and as soon as her hands touched Hermione's skin, Bellatrix could already fell the girl melt underneath her. Soft hands slid over shoulder-blades, along her spine and to the small of her back. The girl arched along with her movements, letting out a drawn-out sigh of relief.

Slowly, Bellatrix slid her hands up the side of her back again, gently kneading flesh as she did.

"Hm, Belle," whispered Hermione.

The dark-haired witch lingered on Hermione's shoulders. There'd definitely been a lot of stress today, judging from the knots. Carefully kneading her shoulders caused Hermione to let out a sigh and shifted her head slightly to give Bellatrix a better grip. Her eyes still closed, the girl let out a blissful groan.

Careful now. She didn't want to massage her girlfriend to sleep. A sharp pinch to the nape of her neck, and Hermione's following yelp confirmed that she was once again wide awake. More rose oil was added to her hands and more kneading was done. The flats of her hands slid over welcoming skin while the tips of her fingers raked over her shoulder-blades. "Oh, Belle," Hermione all but moaned. "That feels fantastic."

"Hm," Bellatrix leaned down and softly whispered in her ear. Dark curls fell out of formation and tickled Hermione's cheek. "I know what girls like, pet. Trust me." The tiny whimper Hermione let out after the dark-haired witch followed up her flirt with gentle blows of air was most arousing.

Hermione's breath quickened with every stroke. Every knead. Every touch. Bellatrix was getting rather hot and bothered herself, to be honest. Just as the dark-haired witch was about to lean in to lead a trail off kisses from the small of Hermione's back to her neck, Hermione could take no more and sprung to action.

She shifted and rolled to her back, looking Bellatrix in the eye. To this day, the dark-haired witch knew just how lucky she was to have someone like Hermione. Smart and beautiful, the girl lay before her in all her glory. Hers. All hers.

The girl folded her jean-clad legs out and wrapped them around Bellatrix's waist, forcing the dark-haired witch to lower herself down upon her. "I need you," husked Hermione, her smile sultry, her eyes filled with lust while frantically tugging on Bellatrix's dress in an attempt to release her breasts.

The Hermione of today was a far cry from the blushing virgin she had met two years ago.

The dark-haired witch chuckled to herself before the young witch claimed her prize. Bellatrix Black: gleeful corrupter the innocent since 1951. It was a self-appointed title she could very much live with. Their lips met, their tongues wrestled for dominance while Bellatrix slyly slid her hand over trembling soft skin to find and undo the button in front of Hermione's jeans. Yet another thing to love about jeans: easy access to the goods.

Though sexy they may be, Hermione's jeans had definitely overstayed their welcome.

Bellatrix awoke to sheer bliss. She lay on her side, still in the slight haze of awakening to the lucid dream of being embraced tightly from behind by her beloved, her soft skin on hers, warm breath rhythmically brushing past her skin as Hermione lay sleeping. Sweet memories of the wonderful lovemaking earlier that night came drifting right back. Having found alternative use for the rose oil, the bedsheets had gotten rather laden with spilled oil. In fact, she could still feel where Hermione had rubbed the oil on her skin. Hm, bliss.

The dark-haired witch could lay here forever, enjoying her girlfriend's closeness and warmth. There was one problem, though: According to the clock, she was supposed to get up for work.

This was a dilemma. Duty called, but at the same time, she felt so comfortable being held by her girl. Bellatrix closed her eyes and willed the clock to stop ticking. The dark-haired witch wanted to stay there forever, gently being held and feeling Hermione's loving warmth. Of course, the universe did not obey Bellatrix's command and the self-time continuum kept moving forward even in the face of dire threats towards its continued existence.

Until her devotion to duty finally won out. By a hair's length.

Reluctantly, Bellatrix disentangled herself from Hermione's gentle embrace and slipped out of bed. She hissed slightly as her bare feet touched upon the cold linoleum that was on their bedroom floor. She swore quietly when one of her feet slid over a glob of oil which had landed on the floor. The linoleum, horrible Muggle stuff that it was, had been put there to cover up the wooden boards and the plan was to eventually replace it with proper carpeting. That was months ago, however; another one of the best laid plans nipped in the bud by lack of budget.

Hermione suggested getting some cheap furniture from a muggle place called IKEA to fill up the house a bit, but Bellatrix balked when she mentioned they'd have to assemble it themselves. Seriously, furniture you had to put togetheryourself?! Muggles were just weird, weird people.

After carefully opening their cheap IKEA dresser, she gathered the clothes she would wear today and was about to silently creep to the shower when she heard Hermione stir in bed. "Hmmmm, work?" Hermione groaned sleepily without opening her eyes.

"Didn't mean to wake you," said Bellatrix. The working day started a full hour earlier for Bellatrix, so she had hoped to let the young witch sleep in a bit longer. Like usual, however, her efforts had awakened her keen-eared girlfriend.

"'s alright," Hermione yawned, still with her eyes closed.

"Sleep, pet," Bellatrix gently kissed Hermione on the cheek.

"Enjoy your day," Hermione croaked the words and drifted off into sleep once again.

After a quick shower and an even quicker floo to the office, she would many times that day wish to be back in Hermione's warm embrace. Not in the least when she was faced with a rather odd goblin whom had come in to make a statement about the Hufflepuff boy whom had gone missing. The goblin had a receeding hairline and an oddly rounded nose, though generally jovial unlike most goblins. This interview was truly a last ditch effort, but as the conversation continued, she was really starting to think she was wasting her time with him.

"Now, mister Jansen," Bellatrix rubbed her temples. Dinky, the house-elf stenographer, looked equally frustrated as he did his best to keep up with the goblin's fast talking nonsense. "If you would just get to the point..."

Jan Jansen, goblin local to Hogsmeade, continued unabated. "Well, if you take in consideration the average Joe Troll, you got yourself a recipe for a lousy day. I mean, sure, you can placate a troll with a turnip sandwich, but would you really want to give up your dinner in the process? I mean, giving up your hard-earned turnip to an ungrateful troll? I'd rather risk death myself, but that's just me. Reminds of the time my aunty Gladys had an aneurism so bad it actually caused an earthquake that was way off the Richter scale. That's the UK got separated from the rest of Europe, you see?"

"Mister Jansen..."

"Ah, yes, Martin, the Hufflepuff boy. He often talked to my nephew Wilbur Jansen. Now, we all think he's a bit crazy ever since he ran around naked in the snow last winter, screaming about having a vision about massive sentient alien machines hiding in darkspace who will return every 50.000 years to destroy all life in the galaxy. Nobody actually listen to him, of course, and then someone even threw a bucket of water over him. Now this being winter, it put him rather a spot of bother…"

Bellatrix rolled her eyes while Dinky, the house-elf whom always transcribed interrogations, looked at her questioningly. No doubt the elf wanted to know if this nonsense was worth recording. The dark-haired witch shot Dinky a dirty look at pressured her into continuing; if she had to suffer, she wouldn't be suffering alone.

"Oh, what does all of that even mean?! Stop with the hogwash, mister Jansen. We're looking for information about Martin, so talk about Martin!"

"You'll be laughing on the other side of your face when the machine-gods melt you down and turn you into a giant space-cuttlefish, which my uncle claims will be around two hundred years from now. Hm, we'll both be dead by then, I guess we don't have to worry about it. Ah, forget I said anything, they'll be the future generation's problem."

"Oh, how IwishI could forget about everything you said," Bellatrix muttered under her breath.

"Now, about Martin, he often talked to my uncle Wilbur, loved his stories, poor thing. If there's anything us Jansens do well, it's telling stories. And they're all true, I swear. Like the time my auntie Roberta averted an invasion by the merpeople. Some ten years ago, there were some issues with overfishing the lake, which wasn't a problem in itself other than that some of the fishermen had taken up fishing with sticks of dynamite at the end of their fishing poles. The Merpeople didn't like having their houses blown up, so they came up to Hogsmeade to seek a diplomatic solution. Unfortunately, some mothers were insulted and it became a full-on brawl. Fearing the fall of Hogsmeade, my auntie lined up all the thestrals in town and put a laxativo-potion in their watering trough. The resulting release of gasses drove the merpeople back into the lake and restored the peace. The problem with the dynamite fishing solved itself when old man Gumby decided to smoke his old tobacco pipe inside the dynamite shed."

"Flatulent thestrals," Bellatrix sighed heavily while Dinky looked positively ready to burst into tears. "How the hell did we get yo the topic of flatulent thestrals?"

"They might be invisible, but you can sure smell them!"

"Merlin, why am I even bothering?"

"Don't ask me, you're the one leading this conversation, Trixie," Jan Jansen shrugged.

Immediately, her jaw squared as her teeth ground together. "Trixie?" she uttered dangerously. "TRIXIE?! MY NAME IS NOT TRIXIE!"

"Oh, sorry, did I call you Trixie? I'm sorry I called you Trixie. I won't call you Trixie anymore, Trixie. Oh, dear, I just said it again, didn't I? Sorry about that, Trixie."

Bellatrix let out a heavy sigh. "Jansen, you are a horrible little man. WHAT ARE YOU?!"

"I'm, uh, a horrible little man, miss Black," the goblin shrugged. "But don't knock it. I might be brain-damaged, but at least I'm not brain-damaged. Uh, no, wait, that's wrong. Okay, let me start over and start from the very beginning. Right after I was born..."

"Aaah!" Bellatrix exclaimed. She just couldn't take it anymore. The dark-haired witch stormed from the interrogation room back into the office and slammed the door shut behind her. "Bombur, maybe you can make sense of all the bollocks that comes out of this goblin, because I sure can't!", she yelled.

While Bellatrix plopped down behind her desk, the elderly wizard Bombur headed to the interrogation room to take over. The dark-haired witch rubbed her temples as she leaned back in her chair. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts. Hermione naked, draped over me while we're lying on a rug in front of the fireplace in a finished gorgeous house while Crookshanks is running around the country with a lit stick of dynamite stuck up his arse. Yes, that'll do.

"Trouble, Bells?" Petunia asked, just as pieces of singed orange fur wafted through Bellatrix's fantasy.

Bellatrix sighed heavily. "This case is hopeless, Petunia. I was hoping this Jan Jansen would have some kind of lead for us. He's our last chance..."

"Can't win them all," Petunia tried to offer a sympathetic smile.

Bellatrix shook her head. "I'm a sore loser, 'Tunia."

Defeated, Bellatrix leaned back and wondered if she should break the promise she had made to Hermione and don't touch any alcohol unless the two of them were drinking together. But she would know… Hermione always knew. Salvation came in the form of a small house-elf who came into the room leading a magical cart stacked to the brim with casefiles. "DCI Black," the house-elf saluted. "These are the files you asked for."

"I see that. Thank you," Bellatrix nodded.

As Bellatrix started to move the files from the cart to her desk, Petunia's eyes almost burst out of their sockets. "Well, there goes your weekend. What are those for?"

"These are all the missing persons casefiles from last year," Bellatrix said. "I'm going to see if I can find a connection."

"Bells, you're mental!"

"Perhaps," said Bellatrix, a half-smile forming. "But I'm not giving up. Like I said, I'm sore loser."

Just then, Bombur came storming out of the interrogation room, quaking with rage so much that his beard shook. "Argh! That horrible, horrible gnome!"

"He's a goblin, Bombur," Bellatrix spoke matter-of-factly.

"He's a bleedin' menace, that's what he is!" Bombur yelled back at her before shouting into the room. "Jimmy! You try next! Use that American asshole bullsh*tter charm of yours!"

As the plucky yank headed into the interrogation room, the dark-haired witch got to work. Bellatrix started by opening the Hufflepuff boy's file, writing down the particulars in her notepad in hopes of finding a connection. Inside the casefile was a photograph of the boy, Martin, in his final year. He looked reasonably happy, full of hopes and dreams. As a detective, she knew happy photos could after mask darker depths, but there were simply no signs of it. No depression, no enemies, no hidden past, no family secrets. He was just there one day and then he was not.

"What happened to you, Martin?" Bellatrix whispered to herself before closing the file folder. "How'd you go from living your best life in Hogsmeade to floating dead in the Thames?"

And so Bellatrix started digging through the missing persons files. After eliminating about half of them because the person in question had either been found or was obviously not related to the Hufflepuff boy case, she was left with twelve files. It didn't take her long to discover a disturbing trend; all of these twelve missing persons were young muggle-borns whom had graduated from Hogwarts in recent years and had little or no family to speak of. All of them had suddenly and inexplicably disappeared without a trace; it was as if they had been just plucked from their lives, just like the Hufflepuff boy Martin had been. This was beyond coincidence. She'd have to scour the files again to look for a clue. Any clue. If these cases were all related, there might be something to connect them all. Maybe even a slip-up that could further her investigation. With her trusty notepad in hand, she opened the first file, studying the particulars.

Bellatrix had gotten to the third file when two magically enchanted paper airplanes zoomed into the office, did a barrel-roll followed up by a loop-de-loop and ended up in both the inbox on her desk and the inbox on Petunia's desk, unfolding themselves into the memo intended for them. This in itself was not an uncommon occurance and Bellatrix wasn't interested in memos, however, and she still had quite a backlog to read. The files were what was interesting at the moment.

While Bellatrix took a moment rub her temples, Petunia picked up her memo and read it. "Uhm, Bells? It says here I'm taking over your caseload."

"What?" Bellatrix blinked. "Why?!"

Petunia shrugged and pointed at the memo she had just received. "Doesn't say. Check yours?"

Bellatrix grabbed her own memo and quickly read it. Once the magnitude of the message on it hit home, she rose from her chair and slammed both of her fists on the desk. "WHAT THE BLOODY, BLOODY, BLOODY HELL IS THE sh*tTING MEANING OF THIS f*ckING c*ntERY?!"

Chapter 2: Diagon Vice

Chapter Text

Bellatrix Black stomped through the halls of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, snarling at everyone who dared to get in her way.

Or got near her.

Or just looked at her.

It wasn't long until people in the hallways started giving her a wide berth. A very wide berth.

The memo had told her to meet Jensen in a conference lounge one floor up on the executive level, and she was getting angrier with every step taken. So according to this memo, it was Jensen himself whom had pulled her from not only the Hufflepuff boy case but all other running cases as well. He might be her boss, but that was hardly a deterrent for Bellatrix; he'd better have a damn good explanation for what he had done.

When she arrived at the lounge, she angrily threw open the doors and focused on Jensen, whom she rushed to immediately upon entering. "Jensen!" she shouted while she thrust the memo into his chest. "Explain this to me! NOW! And it had better be good!"

Jensen said nothing. Instead, he looked down to read the memo. His face darkening, he turn to his left side. "Really?" he grunted. "Really?! You sent a memo in my name to one of my people, lure her here under false pretenses and relieving her of her caseload before she even agreed to anything! You really are a piece of f*cking work!"

It was only now that the irate Bellatrix became roughly aware of her surroundings, and that she noticed that Jensen was not alone. In this conference lounge, which was essentially a room with leather seats surrounding a long table and an open window on one side looking out into the open space of the underground spire the Ministry was build around, were two other people. One was Nymphadora, her niece, the other was Pius Thicknesse, the recently installed head of the DMLE. Nymphadora was looking to be her usual plucky self, having chosen jet-black hair this time around, while Pius was snappily dressed and made a dapper appearance, stroking his short beard ever so often.

Meanwhile, Jensen seemed to be quite upset, though obviously not at her.

Now that her anger was somewhat subsiding, it became clear to her that there was definitely something off here. People like Pius were administrators and never ever got involved with the dealings of individual officers. And considering the only other two persons here were her boss and a trusted family member, this was a recipe for a most abnormal situation.

"Hi, aunty," Nymphadora raised her hand in a halfhearted wave. "Quite an entrance. And quite a lung capacity."

"Dora," Bellatrix nodded. Andie's daughter Nymphadora, whom had officially become an auror last year, was a striking figure. Her contact with Nymphadora these days was limited to having lunch with her from time to time, but she quite liked the plucky girl.

"Alright!" Bellatrix threw up her arms. "I get it. Who'd I piss off this time?! I swear, that reporter I hexed last month had it coming! And I haven't threatened a suspect in weeks!"

"Ah, detective chief inspector Black," Pius nodded and put on his pleasant face. "Pleased to make your acquaintance. I have heard quite a lot about you. I'm afraid it was me who freed you of your obligations. I pro-actively asked for your caseload to be reassigned without waiting for the outcome of this meeting. Obviously this has caused you some distress, for which I apologize."

Bellatrix frowned for a moment. The guy was a politician, alright. "Jensen?" Bellatrix looked at her boss, the devil she knew, for proper answers. "What is this about?"

Pius waved his wand and closed the door, sealing it with a silent and impenetrable forcefield. Nymphadora then told her that the room had been search for magical eavesdroppers as the four of them sat down at the conference table and let Pius explain just while Bellatrix was here. In fact, Pius had to repeat himself. His request was so ludicrously beyond belief that the dark witch was certain he'd been pulling her leg.

"You want me to go undercover? Me?!" Bellatrix co*cked her head sideways. "You lot are all mental!"

Jensen snorted. "That'sIwas told him, Trix."

Pius, on the other hand, said nothing, apparently content with letting Bellatrix rant for a bit. And rant she did.

"What would be the point? Everybody knows I'm a policewoman! I've been in the papers several times this year alone!"

"Uhm, yes," Pius nodded. "But, that actually will work in your favour. We want you..."

"... Pius has this hare-brained scheme about having you infiltrate the Purity Front," Jensen finished while staring daggers at Pius.

"Really, Adam," Pius sighed. "There is no need for animosity between us. In the end, it will be miss Black's choice and not ours."

"Will it really?" Jensen pressed. "I don't appreciate you throwing my people under the bus to suit your own political agenda!"

"Excuse me," said Bellatrix, raising her hand as if she was a primary schoolgirl asking to for permission to go the toilet. "I'm still in the room here. And I'm not happy!"

Bellatrix had seen Pius once and only once, at his inauguration, in fact. The man was younger than she was, an executive go-getter and the successor of Amelia Bones. After Amelia Bones had accepted a promotion, the relatively young Pius had been her appointed successor. He was an idealist half-blood, whom had promised to clean up the Department from corruption and bribery. Though Bellatrix very much supported this effort, she feared that Pius actually lacked the spine to do any proper housecleaning, as he was not someone who liked making unpopular decisions. Worse still, Thicknesse was someone she had taken an instant disliking too, because he was someone whom she simply could not respect; a politician through and through whom had weaseled himself into this job. Unlike Amelia, he had never handled a case, never patrolled a beat or never even deigned to be 'in the dirt' with the people he was supposed to manage.

"We have a mole in Purity Front," said Nymphadora. "A high-ranking official of the Ministry was approached by agents of the Purity Front some months ago. They wanted this official to spy on the highest levels of the Ministry and lobby pure-blood causes for them, but they didn't count on the mole having a conscience and revealing their intent to us."

"What's most disturbing about this, is that our mole revealed that Purity Front has done this before a frightening amount of times. The mole is the first of them all to come forward," Pius said. "We fear they wish to destabilize the position of the Ministry and the Department. We need someone to infiltrate them, gather evidence of their treachery and find out just how deep this conspiracy goes."

"Who is this mole?" Bellatrix asked.

Nymphadora shook her head. "Only Pius knows. The mole will feed us information, on the condition that the mole's identity is never revealed. I don't even know if it's a man or a woman."

"The mole has risked much, so I will honour this agreement," Pius said.

Well, that was uncharacteristically civil and moral… certainly for a Ministry official. Perhaps she had misjudged Thicknesse.

"Can this mole be trusted?" Bellatrix asked.

"I guarantee it," responded Pius.

The next question was obvious. "Why me?"

Pius leaned forward. "You are perfect for the job. Black is an ancient pure-blood name and your family's obsession with blood purity is well-known. Furthermore, your personnel record speaks for itself; there are a large number of complaints about you from people outside the DMLE and you have a problem with authority figures. But you have always served with distinction and reported a great number of instances of corruption within the Department, often at the cost of your own advancement. Your 'defection' would be believable for the Front, but your loyalty to us would not be question for the DMLE."

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes and bristled at this insult; As if her loyalty could ever been in question! "Indeed?" she hissed. "Has there ever been a reason for doubt?!"

The snappily dressed politician held up his hands. "I have insulted you, for which I humbly apologize. Truly, you are one of the Department's finest officers and, even though you might not be one of the most... diplomatic... representatives, this task is eminently suited for someone of your skill, disposition and dedication."

Oh yes, definitely a politician, that one.

Pius continued. "We have strong reasons to believe that the DMLE has been compromised by Purity Front agents. As such, only the four of us will be aware of this operation. We need to come up with a cover story to mask your true mission."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Jensen said, his expression terse. "Pius, I will not have you throw one of my people to the wolves. Trix is not trained for this and has no experience with undercover work. This is a matter for the aurors, not for Magical Homicides. I will not allow you to expose someone under my command to any unnecessary risks."

"That is why Tonks is here," Pius said, some masked irritation on his voice. "She will be her field runner should she decide to undertake this mission."

"Black and Tonks," Nymphadora smirked. "Sounds like the name of a proper cop show. It's perfect; you'll be the grizzled cynical veteran and I'll be the brash young hot-head rookie. Can't go wrong with that."

Bellatrix sighed heavily. She had no idea what a 'cop show' was, but Dora seemed to be excited about it, at least. There was another point which needed to be addressed, however.

"You do realize I have a muggle-born girlfriend, right?" Bellatrix crossed her arms. "The people of the Front will consider me a blood-traitor."

"But that is not wide-spread public knowledge," Pius said. "It shouldn't be a problem as long as you're careful. It's vital that you are accomplished in occlumancy and can keep your motives hidden. Another reason why I chose you for this task."

"Trained? Hardly. I just prefer to keep my thoughts private," Bellatrix shook her head at the absurdity of it all. "Is this a good time to talk about the raise again, Jensen?" Bellatrix laughed. "My girlfriend and I bought a house and we're not even close to finishing..."

"I'll double your salary," Pius broke in. That statement turned some heads. It was obvious there was desperation in his voice; he really wanted her to do this. With Bellatrix's joke now having some unexpected results, the curly-haired witch blinked in surprise. "C-could I get that in writing, please?" she croaked slightly.

Pius nodded. "I'll have my secretary put it through immediately. I understand that we haven't rewarded your loyalty as much as we should have. Really, considering all the promotions you were unjustly passed up for, you should be earning much more by now anyway."

Bellatrix was far from insipid, of course. She quite understood what was going on. Pius, along with other appointed department heads, were faced with a herculean task of trying to clean up government corruption. Of course, those who were corrupt were naturally reluctant to give up their ill-gotten gains, leading to him being stonewalled at every turn. This was a man who needed a victory to shore up his position and validate Ministry policies. And he was hoping Bellatrix could provide him with one.

The dark-haired witch nodded, and started to understand that if she refused this mission, any chance of any sort of future advancement within the Department would be down the drain. This would be a career defining decision. Still, she would lying if she said she wasn't calculating in her head how much double salary would speed up further work on their lovely house. Hermione would be so happy.

"Oh, alright, I'll do it," Bellatrix sighed. "It's not like I have anything else to do now that I no longer have a caseload."

"Oh, for crying out..." Jensen grunted in frustration and swiveled his seat away from Pius.

It seemed like Pius suddenly breathed more calmly. "Thank you, DCI Black. You will be doing a major service to the entire wizarding world."

"I'm doing a major service for my house…" Bellatrix muttered under her breath.

The quip was ignored and Nymphadora was swift to hand her a file folder. "I took the liberty of preparing some light reading for you. Stop by the auror office tomorrow and we'll get you sorted."

Jensen, in the meantime, looked less than happy. "May I speak with Bellatrix in private, please?"

Pius nodded. "Of course," he turned to Bellatrix. "Thank you again."

Nymphadora waggled her fingers at her before leaving the room with Thickness. The door shut behind them. Now that Bellatrix and her boss were alone, Jensen leaned against the table and shook his head.

"Oi, mum," Bellatrix chuckled. "Did I just take a bribe?"

"Hell no," Jensen shook his head. "You just got what you've been entitled to for years. I just don't like the hoops Pius is making you jump through to get it."

Bellatrix crossed her arms. "Really, mum, I'm a big girl now."

"You don't understand!" Jensen snapped. "Pius has a hardon for getting someone inside the Front. The DMLE has been trying for years without success. This mole is the inside source he's been waiting for. But I don't like this one bit, Trix. Too much cloak and dagger stuff. There's a reason aurors take special training on silent infiltration. Jesus Christ, Pius is reckless. Amelia would never have allowed this."

"Think I can't pull it off?" It was a challenge, pure and simple. She was a Black and Blacks excelled at whatever task they were assigned. It was a matter of pride.

Jensen bristled in response. "This is not a pissing contest, Trix! I don't like the way how he swindled you into doing his dirty work for him. Why on Earth did you go along with it anyway? I thought you were smarter than that."

"Well," grinned Bellatrix. "Youdidn't get me that raise."

"Oh, for the love of Merlin," Jensen laughed. "You always were too stubborn for your own good. Just... if you want out of this operation, just come to me. I'll get Pius to pull you out."

Bellatrix smiled in spite of herself. "Yes, mum," she replied.

"I see you're determined to go through with this nonsense," Jensen sighed with a smile. "Very well, until then, you're officially on loan to the auror office."

Bellatrix was late. She hurried along through the crowds in Diagon Alley to get to the Gilded Veela cafe to meet her sisters.

After heading back to the office to officially transfer all her cases to her colleagues, she and Jensen devised some co*ck-and-bull cover story about her being temporarily transferred to the auror office in an advisory role for a classified assignment. Her friends being the suspicious and curious lot that they were, it all had taken a bit longer than expected. Meaning she was already late. This was double embarrassing, considering her sisters knew she had taken some hours off work today to be here.

Once inside, one of the waiters led her to the table where Andie and Cissy were already seated and sipping tea. It was a nice, private booth near a window.

"Bella!" greeted Andie. "You made it! We were afraid you'd have to cancel again."

"Bella," Cissy nodded.

"Sorry," said Bellatrix as she sat down, and put her satchel containing Nymphadora's file next to her chair. "Ran into a really strange situation at work."

Cissy huffed. "Please, let's not talk about your work today. Murder most horrid is not proper conversation to have over tea."

"Well, that's me done then," Bellatrix smirked as sipped her tea. Mint, her favourite. "I hope you two brought topics to talk about."

The contrast between the three sisters was like night and day. Cissy was every bit prim and proper as could be, wearing expensive silken clothes, her styled blonde hair pinned up and drinking her tea with her pinky finger so firmly extended it could cut glass. Andie was very much the middle sister; she wasn't affluent per say, but she dressed sharply and bore what she had proudly. Her mood could best be described as enthusiastic. Meanwhile, Bellatrix was the crass one; simple black clothing, long black leather coat, messy hair and a generally cynical outlook on life. Though, even she had to admit that ever since she'd been with Hermione, she'd mellowing considerably.

"This is nice," said Andie. "How long has it's been since the three of us have been together in one room?"

"Almost two years," said Cissy.

"Too long," Bellatrix agreed. "Mostly my fault, though. I don't even dare to count all the times I've cancelled because of work. And then there were all the times Hermione and I were too busy moving house."

Andie smiled at her. "You've changed so much over the past two years, and for the better. Hermione has been such a good influence on you. Cissy, I don't recall if you've ever met Hermione."

The youngest Black sister put down her teacup and shook her head. "No, I haven't. Honestly, I'm not sure what to expect. My Draco doesn't hold her high regard and has told me this on numerous occasions. Yet what you and Bella tell me is the complete opposite. I'm not sure what to make of her."

Indeed, Bellatrix didn't find this to be very odd. She was closer to Andie than she was to Cissy, and Cissy wasn't the type who'd drop by on a whim like Andie often did.

"Well," Andie said. "I am sure that if you'd meet her, you could make up your own mind. She's a very polite, smart and kind-hearted young lady."

"So why is she with Bella, then?" Cissy replied.

"Hey!" Bellatrix frowned, to which Cissy showed just the slightest grin. "Hermione is also headstrong, opinionated and bossy."

"Hm, sounds about right. Honestly, I was so surprised that you of all people ended up in a relationship with a mu...ggleborn," Cissy said. "You used to be such a hardliner on blood purity."

Bellatrix nodded for a moment. "Hermione won't let me forget about that either."

"Perhaps you should bring her to our mansion," said Cissy. "For a proper meet-and-greet dinner party."

Bellatrix bit her lip. "I doubt Hermione would enjoy the experience. Both Lucius and Draco have made their thoughts on her quite clear."

"Nonsense. Hermione is family now," Cissy replied. "Don't worry. I will make sure the boys behave."

"I'll talk to her about it," said Bellatrix.

Andie scowled slightly. "I am suddenly reminded of the first time I introduced Ted to you, Cissy."

Cissy shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, let's not talk about that."

"You thought Ted was the waiter!"

"Which wouldn't have happened if he had only dressed snappier!"

"So it's Ted's fault now?!" Andie huffed.

Bellatrix watched the exchange with some amusem*nt and decided to weigh in. "Well, to be honest, Andie, Ted isn't exactly an alpha male."

Andie's ire was now turned towards Bellatrix. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Now now," Bellatrix held up her hands. "I didn't say that was a bad thing."

"When my Lucius enters a room, he demands attention and respect from everybody. He is the center of any gathering, any meeting or any party," Cissy spoke before sipping her tea. "When your Ted enters a room, people expect him to show them to their seats."

"Do they respect your Lucius or do they fear him?" said Andie. "Fear doesn't lead to true respect. My Ted might not be as imposing as Lucius, but he wins their respect through his kindness and personality."

Bellatrix smirked. "And my Hermione is more intelligent than both of your husbands combined and far better looking. There. I win. You may commence pouting now."

Cissy and Andie looked at her with narrowed eyes. Cissy scraped her throat before speaking. "Well... if you are really so entranced with her, you might want to consider your looks a bit more."

"What?" Bellatrix frowned and looked down at herself. "What's wrong with my looks?"

The tiniest smirk tugged on the corners of her lips. "I'd write you a list, but I'd need an extra long scroll of parchment to do so. Would it really hurt you to make yourself look prettier for Hermione? Seriously, Bella, your girl has needs. You should see to them."

Bellatrix leaned back in her chair and grinned wickedly as she hung her arm over the side. "I see to my girl's needs on a regular basis, thank you very much," she grinned wickedly. "I'm not having any complaints about getting my own needs seen to either."

Andie giggled slightly. "I don't know. You might not consider Ted an alpha male, but he certainly is in the bedroom. This lucky witch is thoroughly satisfied and happy."

Cissy almost choked on her tea. "I... I can't believe we're having this conversation."

"It's just a little healthy sibling rivalry, Cissy," Bellatrix grinned. "Come one, we shared. Now it's your turn."

"I refuse to lower myself to sharing bedroom secrets! I swear, you're both so common!" said Cissy. Both Andie and Bellatrix crossed their arms and stared at Cissy intently, refusing to let up. Cissy put down her now empty tea-cup and let out a brief sigh. "He makes me melt into puddle."

"Ah!" Bellatrix clapped her hands. "Well done, Cissy. Oh, now that I have you both here, there's something I would like you to try."

She called over a waiter. "Yes, do you stock cola here?"

The waiter nodded. "Indeed we do."

"Ah, for three, please."

Cissy frowned. "Cola? What is that?"

"It's a Muggle drink," said Bellatrix. "Andie, don't say a word until Cissy has tried it."

"Lips are sealed!" Andie promised.

The haughty Narcissa scrunched up her nose. "A Muggle drink? Since when you do lower yourself to such depths? I'm not so sure this Hermione is such a good influence on you after all."

"Just trust me on this one, Cissy," said Bellatrix, just as the waiter returned with three glasses and three small glass bottles with red and white labels. The waiter poured the fizzy brown liquid into their glasses and took his leave.

Cissy seemed less than impressed by the brown liquid fizzing in her glass, studying it from all sides.

"Do you really want me to drink... this...?" Cissy said, while Andie's offered her an encouraging smile. "It looks like sewage! I might catch something!"

"Try it," said Bellatrix as she raised her own glass to her lips.

Ever so slowly, Cissy put the glass to her mouth and took the tiniest of sips. Her eyes grew wide as saucers and before long, she took another sip. And then another one. "This... this is fantastic! And you say Muggles made this?"

"Indeed they did," said Bellatrix. Considering wizards were infamous sweet tooths, it wasn't strange that a drink which was about one-third diluted sugar would be to Cissy's satisfaction.

"Ladies," Andie raised her glass. "To the Black sisters. Siblings through thick and thin. May nothing ever come between us, no man, no woman, no politics, no adversity."

"I'll drink to that," said Bellatrix as she raised her own.

"Here here," agreed Cissy.

Bellatrix had gone home right after the genuinely enjoyed meeting with her sisters, went in for a quick shower and ended up sat on the sofa wearing a bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her head. With a glass of water at her side, she flipped through the case file Nymphadora had given her. All that was known about the Purity Front was recorded in this, disappointingly thin, file. The Purity Front had been founded in 1984, after a law went in effect which made it easier for muggle-borns to purchase property in the wizarding world. She remembered the outrage among the pure-blood families at the time. The Purity Front had been formed as a backlash against a series of reforms favouring equal rights for muggle-borns. There was no one leader or founder known. It's first appearance was through an anonymous pamphlet spread to the shoppers of Diagon Alley.

The Front now owned a rather large public lodge near that same alley; aurors had been posting surveillance ever so often, but never really got far within the organization. Getting inside would be a real challenge for Bellatrix. Like she told Thicknesse, it was known she was a policewoman, so she expected a lot of suspicion along the way.

Most of the known members were young pure-bloods who spread the ridiculous propaganda from the Purity Front manifesto. When the Purity Front had grown larger about a decade ago, Bellatrix had entertained the notion of going to one of their rallies to see what the fuss was about and perhaps even pick up a girl there to bring home for the night. However, she'd never gotten around to it and the Leaky Cauldron had plenty of female clientele to flirt with, the few fragments of the manifesto she had read had made her happy that she'd never gone to one of their rallies; it was rife with nonsense, often even contradicting itself.

Evidence gathered by attempted infiltration pointed to a prestigious inner circle which was suspected to be the true leadership of the Front. Members of this inner circle were not known by name and never showed themselves in public. There'd been whispers of the Front trying to get a foothold in the Ministry, but nothing had ever been proved. To be honest, Bellatrix found the whole thing to be rather exciting. She was quite proud of the work she did for Magical Homicides, but she this was something entirely different. The curly-haired witch would have to use her deductive reasoning on the fly, manipulate people and play her cards just right to get ahead. It was going to be an interesting challenge to say the least.

She studied the file through and through, until a pop sounded from the fireplace. Bellatrix looked up and saw her beloved Hermione appear from the fireplace. She closed the file and slipped it back into her satchel, out of sight.

"Oh, Belle," Hermione said in surprise. "You're already home?"

"Oh, yes," said Bellatrix before she and Hermione brushed lips. "Got something interesting to tell you. Have a seat."

The dark-haired witch would spend the next twenty minutes to tell her girlfriend about what had happened at the office today. About the undercover assignment and her raise, but without sharing the details.

"Congratulations," said Hermione after she gave Bellatrix a quick hug. "Finally, it's about time you got some recognition for your dedication."

"A pay-rise of this magnitude is more than just recognition," Bellatrix said. "The extra money will really help us to finally get this house finished. We might even consider that part-time house-elf we've been talking about to keep this place clean. Hell, I'd be happy with a proper floor in our bedroom."

Of course, Hermione being Hermione, she had insisted on employing a free elf on a salary. Bellatrix had long ago accepted that this was a fight that she was not going to win, even though she felt like time-sharing an indentured elf like so many other families did was a much better and reliable option.

"I'm not so sure about this undercover assignment," Hermione said as she plopped down in a lazy chair near the fireplace. "It sounds dangerous."

Hermione seemed quite concerned, but Bellatrix wasn't worried. "Hey," she smirked. "This ismewe're talking about. And seriously, those people aren't smart enough to be dangerous. Hell, they weren't even smart enough not to get caught with their hands in the biscuit tin."

"What do they want you to do?"

Bellatrix rubbed her chin. Sure, she wasn't supposed to be revealing her mission to anyone and she knew she wasn't supposed to tell. But, really, this was Hermione and she was not the most likely of persons to tip off the Purity Front. "Sure, but keep this to your self, hm, or you might put the mission at risk. They want me to infiltrate the Purity Front and gather evidence of them trying to destabilize the wizarding world. According to an insider source, they've been trying to corrupt the government."

"Purity Front," Hermione shook her head. Bellatrix quite understood; it was the Purity Front which had made life miserable for her at Hogwarts in her later years. "Well, I hope you can take them down a notch. Muggle-borns have it hard enough as it is."

"Hm," Bellatrix grinned wickedly. "I think undercover work is very difficult, so I would like some practice. I'm pretty sure we could practice some undercover work upstairs."

Hermione laughed. "God, you're incorrigible. Bit early for that, wouldn't you say?"

"I would like a lot of practice," winked Bellatrix.

"Rrrrrrrrrright," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, before I forget, did you get the mail from the postbox?" she asked, ignoring Bellatrix's flirting.

"Yep," Bellatrix nodded. "Just an annoying commercial howler and a letter for you from Potter about a birthday party for the Weasel-boy."

"And did you check the muggle-postbox?"

Bellatrix blinked. Well sh*t.

"Well, did you?"

"Ummmm... Do you want the honest answer or the vaguely evasive answer?"

"Oh, honestly!" Hermione sighed in frustration while she rose from the lazy chair. "How long have you been living in this house?!"

The young witch stomped towards the letterbox next to the front door and remained in the vestibule for a while. About two minutes later, Hermione returned to the living room and tossed a stack of muggle advertisem*nts into a blue plastic basket for recycling. Recycling, a rather irritating practice which Hermione had insisted upon; a Black did not stick her hands in garbage, after all. The now more demure Hermione plopped down in the lazy chair without saying a word.

"Alright," said Bellatrix as she crossed her arms. "What is it you don't want me to see?"

Hermione looked stricken. "What? No, n-nothing, I..."

"Pet," Bellatrix started. "You'd have happily continued giving me a bollocking even if there was nothing in the muggle-postbox, but you were dead quiet when stepped back into the room. Furthermore, the back of your blouse is suddenly no longer tucked into your trousers and you stuttered when I confronted you. You are hiding something."

Hermione sighed heavily and fished an envelope from the hem of her trousers. "Sometimes I really hate living with a detective."

Inside the envelope was a printed brown card. Hermione turned the card in her hands and looked rather frustrated.

"Pet, why are you so upset by a postcard?"

Hermione bit her lip and squirmed slightly. The young witch obviously didn't feel comfortable sharing this with her, which only made Bellatrix even more curious. "It's, uhm, the, uhm… invitation to the annual Granger family barbecue."

"Annual Granger family barbecue?" Bellatrix frowned. "I've never heard of this before."

Hermione shrugged. "It's your standard family get together. All us Grangers gather in my parents' yard in the second week of May for catching up and eating a lot of processed meat of dubious quality. A lot of Muggles together in a confined space. You wouldn't like it at all. In fact, I've successfully avoided going for the last three years myself. Last year we were getting ready to move into this house so it was sort of swept underneath the rug. It's not as if I was keeping it from you or anything like that, we were legitimately too busy at the time to bother with it."

Bellatrix looked at Hermione and allowed a wicked smirk to cross her pale features. Oh, her Hermione didn't like that smirk. No, she didn't like it at all. "Sounds like fun, we're going," the dark-haired witch spoke matter-of-factly.

As soon as the words had left Bellatrix's lips, Hermione blanched completely and only managed to let out a strangled croak in reply. She grinned inwardly. Mission accomplished. "But... but... but... WHY?!" Hermione let out in desperation.

"Dear Hermione, you're not embarrassed by your family, now are you?" Bellatrix smirked.

Hermione shook her head vigorously. "Of course not! I might not like all of my extended family, but I'm certainly not embarrassed by them."

"Oh. Oh, I get it," Bellatrix said and made an effort to look as sad and pouty as possible. "You're embarrassed aboutme,aren't you? How could you? Your very own girlfriend? I feel so enriched now."

Bellatrix delighted in her jest. Oh, the look on Hermione's face was priceless. She was such an easy target, and Hermione was so slow to catch on.

"No, of course not," Hermione seemed startled. "I would never feel embarrassed about you. How could you suggest such a... And you've just completely pulled my leg, haven't you?"

"Might have," Bellatrix winked. "Slightly."

"God!" Hermione exclaimed. "This is why I didn't want you to see that invitation. I knew this would happen! I swear, you're worse than Fred and George!"

"Allow your woman a bit of fun, pet," Bellatrix winked. "Now, about that undercover practicing..."

The auror office was a tall and broad hall with many open cubicles, rather than the simple desks they had at Magical Homicides. Otherwise, there wasn't much difference between the two departments; the walls were lined with filing cabinets and everywhere hung wanted posted of fugitive dark wizards, along with the occasional illegal werewolf. Several areas were segmented off to be used as conference rooms, and were currently not in use. As most aurors worked in the field, the auror office wasn't usually a busy place. Maybe two of three were in right now and none of them paid her any mind.

Nymphadora Tonks was waiting for her when Bellatrix had entered the auror office office. She wearily looked among the cubicles for a moment.

"No worries," said Nymphadora. "Sirius isn't in. In fact, I wonder if he'severbeen in. I've certainly never seen him here."

Bellatrix relaxed somewhat. The last thing she needed was another run with her idiot cousin. The last time that had happened, the both of them had needed emergency treatment at St. Mungo's, after all.

"I don't know," said Nymphadora as she morphed her face. "Sirius looked quite becoming with that pelican's bill."

"Put that thing away," Bellatrix snorted. "I wasn't too happy about the antlers sprouting from my skull. The healers had to saw the damn things off before they were able to get right of them."

"Antlers aside, it's good you're here," said Nymphadora as she got up from her desk and motioned to follow her. "The mole has informed us that a recruiter from the inner circle will be attending today's Purity Front rally. We must act quickly if we want to take advantage of this. Come on, you're getting a make-over."

Nymphadora led Bellatrix towards a side-office. "A make-over?" Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "What's the point of that?!"

"We want you to be noticed by the higher-ups. When you enter the room, you'll want every eye on you. You need to look the part."

"What's wrong with me? Why can't I go how I am now?" Bellatrix narrowed her eyes.

Nymphadora shot her a grin. "Not for me to say. I'll let Henri decide."

"Henri?" Bellatrix asked as Nymphadora led her inside the side-office, which was more like a small conference hall. A skinny man with a thin moustache was waiting for them there.

"This is Henri," said Nymphadora. "He often does work for us."

"Pleased to me..." Bellatrix would never finish that greeting. The skinny man turned around and looked as if he was struck by lightning. He rushed to Bellatrix, orbiting around her while he carefully studied her hair from every angle. "Uhmmm," Bellatrix growled at him. "I suggest you vacate my personal space before I evict you from it with a bat-bogey hex!"

"Mon dieu!" Henri exclaimed. "What 'ave you done to your poor, poor 'air! It is like she is warzone!"

Before Bellatrix had any idea what was going on, Henri conjured up a barber's chair and pushed her onto it.

"Dora... What is the meaning of this?!" Bellatrix said through clenched teeth as Henri threw a plastic apron over her chest.

Nymphadora simply leaned against the wall and shot her a cheeky grin. "Henri is one of the best hairdressers in the business. Just let him work his magic on you. He'll give you a miraculous coiffure."

"Right," said Henri as he took out two scissors, one for each hand. "I must break out the 'eavy duty scissors for this madame."

Bellatrix blanched considerably when she suddenly saw tufts of hair fly off into the air while the Frenchman was cutting through her mop like a knife through butter. "Uh, are you sure you know what you're doing?" Bellatrix asked.

"Ssssssh!" Henri shushed. "I am creating art! Oh, your poor 'air. She is so tangled, she is so poorly brushed." Magic crackled in the air as Henri used spells to wet and clean her air, soften it up and disentangle it. More cutting followed and Bellatrix really started to worry when she saw the pile of hair forming next to her chair.

"I swear, if I end up bald..."

"Oh, be quiet, you philistine!"

The cutting continued, and Bellatrix was getting nervous enough to stand up and hex the barber. The pile of hair next to the chair grew steadily. Far too steady for her liking.

"Et voila! She is a woman reborn! Such style! Such beauty!" said Henri after almost an hour of work. A mirror was conjured in front of her, and Bellatrix gasped at the result. In truth, she was completely amazed. Despite all the hair that had been culled, it was still long enough to cascade over half of her back. Dark curls still danced freely, but her hair was considerably less messy. In fact, her tresses flowed naturally, as if they were waves of the ocean. There was a dark shine to her hair which she hadn't seen in years. Though her hair was still dotted with streaks for grey, this only made her look more stylish and mature. Good god, if she were to meet herself in a pub, she'd be all over herself.

"I... I haven't looked like this since my sixteenth birthday," Bellatrix whispered, honestly in awe of Henri's handiwork.

Henri huffed haughtily. "Of course," he said. "I am an artiste! Though any 'airdresser is vastly inferior to me, I suggest you visit one more often and your 'air will be saved from the indignity of your neglect. And buy a brush while you're at it. Seriously, the 'orrors your poor 'air 'as suffered should brand you as criminally insane."

Though the hairdresser was certainly an insufferable git, Bellatrix could hardly argue the result. She promised herself to buy a new brush and perhaps even visit the hairdresser once in a while. Meanwhile, Nymphadora had been watching the exchange with a grin on her face and led her to a changing booth.

"I take it you aurors play dress-up quite often?" asked Bellatrix.

"Goes with infiltration," said Nymphadora as she produced a lovely black evening gown. "The rest of your outfit will be elegant and beautiful, yet will still look like something you can afford on policewoman's salary. Here, try it on."

Bellatrix slipped into the booth and exchanged her robes and corset for the dress. It was cool and smooth silk, soft on her skin and surprisingly comfortable. The dress came with a set of feminine knee-high boots, which she also wore. Once out of the booth, she looked at herself in the mirror. With her hair neatly trimmed, she made a striking figure, looking at least a decade younger. The dress itself was black as night and low-cut, showing off a nice amount of cleavage. The sides of her dress, from the side of her breasts to her waist, were a silken see-through mesh, while her back was mostly bare. A long slit from her ankle to her upper thigh offered her some freedom of movement and a chance to show off her long legs. All in all, the dress was tight-fitting and hugged her slender body.

"You should wear something like this more often, auntie," Nymphadora chuckled. "I'm sure Hermione would appreciate it."

"It's like I'm someone else," Bellatrix whispered. And she supposed that was the entire point. This dress wasn't something that Bellatrix would have worn on her own accord, but she had to admit she looked good and felt good. In the mirror, a very beautiful woman stared back at her. Even moreso when she clipped the black velvet traveling cloak onto her dress; it fell neatly over her shoulders.

"That's rather the point. Here," said Nymphadora as she handed her some jewels; a set of golden bracelets, silver diamond-stunned earrings and a golden necklace. "These are on loan, so don't lose them. I might be able to convince Moody to let you keep the dress, though. And now, for the final piece."

As Bellatrix donned the jewelry, Nymphadora went to a nearby desk to grab a wooden box. Curious, Bellatrix watched as Nymphadora opened it. The dark witch was surprised to see a lovely golden butterfly shoot into the air and fly towards her. The golden insect settled among Bellatrix's dark curls and froze in place once it landed.

"Never take that off when you're undercover. It looks like a fancy hairclip, but it sees what you see, and it hears what you hear. Its recordings play back on a pensieve and are admissible in court, if backed up with other evidence."

"Interesting gadget," said Bellatrix. "Any other dark secrets you aurors like to share?"

"I could, but I'd have to kill you afterwards," said Nymphadora with a wink. Another small box fielded a wand; it was narrow and short, much shorter than a regular wand. The plucky auror bent down next to Bellatrix. Bellatrix watched in fascination as Nymphadora clipped the wand in the side of her boot. The wand blended into the boot completely; no one would ever know it was there unless they'd know to look for it. "This'll be your backup wand. If the mission goes sour and you find yourself wandless, just make a grab for your boot and yank it out. It's not as powerful as a regular wand, but it'll save your life when you're in a tough spot."

"Handy," said Bellatrix as Nymphadora presented her with a stylish leather belt with a golden buckle.

"This belt is a disguised duplicato ward," said Nymphadora. "You can temporarily duplicate items by touching it with the buckle. This will allow you to remove evidence from the scene without causing suspicion. The duplicate will last for about a week before disappearing."

To demonstrate, Nymphadora pressed the buckle against a desk blotter. Immediately, an exact duplicate appeared right next to it. "Just be sure to grab the real one and not the duplicate, though. That's somewhat of a beginner's mistake. And lastly, your ring."

Nymphadora took a lovely obsidian stone lady's ring from a small box. "If you get in trouble you can't talk yourself out of, just rub the stone on your ring. The ring is part of a set of two and I'll be wearing the other one. If you rub your ring, it'll make mine glow. I'll rush in as quick as I can to back you up. Only use it if the mission goes sour and your life is in danger."

"You aurors got some fancy stuff," said Bellatrix while tying the belt around her waist. A few seconds later, she slipped the ring on her finger.

Nymphadora nodded. "Sure, but it all comes down to the swagger, really. Now, auntie, are you ready to be the worst pure-blood bitch of a woman you can be? Need to impress that recruiter."

"Trust me," Bellatrix snorted. "I've had a lot of experience."

Chapter 3: Shades from her past

Chapter Text

Bellatrix strutted through Diagon Alley, ready to set her infiltration in motion. It was nearing noon and quite a bit of shoppers were mulling about the street. To her delight, her sexy new look was indeed turning some heads as she made her way towards the Purity Front lodge. The slight discomfort ebbed away as Bellatrix found it extremely satisfying that she could attract the attention of wizards and witches half her age.

Dare she say it, this was getting to be rather exciting. She was a femme fatale on the prowl, heading to the lion's den with only her wits to rely on.

In all honesty, she had wondered if spying on her own kind constituted as a betrayal to the pure-blood ideal but she had rationalized it quite effectively; if they were crooked and were doing crooked things, it was her job to take them down. It really was as simple as that. Also, she couldn't quite claim to be a supporter of the pure-blood ideal anymore, not when sharing her life with a Muggle-born. Hell, even before meeting Hermione, she never once bothered to check the blood purity of the women she slept with. In fact, she might have shared her bed with plenty Muggle-borns before and never even known about it.

It was time to put idle thoughts aside and focus on her job for now. Bellatrix looked around and didn't see Nymphadora anywhere. Though, she guessed that was rather the point. Though she was not yet at the contact point, no doubt the plucky auror was hanging aroundsomewhereat least. For now, she was on her own.

The Purity Front lodge wasn't so much a lodge as it was a small palace. Located, in a small side-street near the end of Diagon Alley, it almost completely obscured from the bustle. It looked smaller than it was on the inside: during the briefing, she'd been told that a lot of the surrounding properties had been bought up by the shady group which had all been internally connected. Intel on the size of the complex was therefore limited. She'd have to be on her guard.

Brazen and bombastic, the large lodge was adorned with tacky looking banners advertising their presence. The Front's symbol, a plus-sign within a green circle, was prominently displayed, as was a more recent sign which read 'Pure-bloods only! No half-bloods and certainly no mudbloods allowed!'. It seemed that the Front had gotten confident enough to advertise with slurs. Some people were mulling about, standing in a queue to get in.

The dark-haired witch did what pure-blood witches always were wont to do: completely jump the queue and confidently strode towards the door, much to the dismay of the plebs waiting to get in. However, a bouncer took note.

"Hold," spoke a darwinian nightmare with a barrel chest and arms the size of tree-trunks. However, if the brute thought he was intimidating Bellatrix, he was sadly mistaken.

The dark witch narrowed her eyes as the man took out a wand and started roving it across her body. "What are you doing?" Bellatrix demanded.

"Stand still," said the man with a thick co*ckney accent. "This spell will determine your blood status. We don't want any filth dragging mud into our clean hall."

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes and whipped out her own wand with the speed of lightning. "Expelliarmus!" she shouted and caught the man's wand the moment he was forced to release it. The dark witch pointed both wands at him and snarled wickedly. "This is an insult! Do you realize who I am? I am Bellatrix Black. Black! As in, Noble and Most Ancient House of! Perhaps you've heard of the Black family motto?Toujours Pur?You should feel honoured that I am darkening your pathetic lodge with my noble presence!"

For a moment, Bellatrix considered she might be laying it on a bit thick, but the bouncer reacted just as she had predicted; with grovelling.

"I... it's just the rules, madame Black, I..." he spoke, obviously startled.

"Try it again and you'll be determining the blood status of your colon!" Bellatrix shrieked after tossing his wand on the ground. "Now… let… me…in!"

"Y-yes, ma'am!"

Bellatrix nodded and was quite satisfied with herself. The other pure-bloods in line were whispering and looking at her; the point was to be noticed and she had definitely gotten off to a good start.

She was let into the lodge and walked through a long hallways adorned with mahogany wood panelling. There was a coat-check room where Bellatrix handed in her cloak. Beyond the cloakroom, she ended up in a large hall filled with people of all ages. If the Purity Front symbolism wasn't everywhere to be seen, it might even be mistaken for a cheerful party. Pleasant wizard music sounded through the hall, while the house-elves behind a large bar at the side served all manner of food and drink. People chatted pleasantly, some even danced. Most young people enjoyed the evening. She hardly saw any faces which looked even a smattering of familiar.

However, looks were deceiving; young people were handing out pamphlets with the usual propaganda, on a small podium stood a particularly awful stand-up comedian making crass jokes about muggle-borns and most of the small talk she caught glimpses are were all on the topic of how blood traitors were the worst of the worst.

Bellatrix mostly tested the waters by having a few superficial chats with some of the attendees, only to quickly conclude that most of them were complete morons with nothing even remotely interesting to say.

Moan, complain and whine…

Bellatrix continued observing. So far, she hadn't seen anyone who could be the recruiter. Usually, people like that loved obsequious toads giving them attention so they tended to stand out. No luck so far. She wondered if the mole had actually been correct about the recruiter attending. Perhaps the recruiter had pulled out at the last moment?

Then started something called the 'airing of grievances'. Bellatrix hung back for a moment to observe. One by one, wizards and witches came forward to the podium to tell everybody gathered just how awful their lives were and how muggle-borns were to blame for it.

A pure-blood man she did not know stood on the podium. "I was up for a big promotion at work. I was the best man for the job. But then they gave the job intended for me to a mudblood whom had only been working there half as long as I had! Affirmative action at it's finest!"

The story was met with hollers and slurs against muggle-borns. Bellatrix could only shake her head. It was clear to her from the way the man waffled his words together that muggle-born didn't get the job because of affirmative action, but because the man was about as thick as a pile of granite.

Moan, moan, complain and whine…

The next person on the stage was a stocky pure-blood lady, complaining rather loudly that the many muggle-borns living in her neighbourhood were likely to decrease the value of her mansion. Bellatrix caught herself before she could roll her eyes.

Moan, moan, moan, complain and whine.

Still, this presented an opportunity. This airing of the grievances was possibly her best chance to make an impression on the recruiter. So far, she still didn't have a clue who the recruiter was. She'd have to make the recruiter come toherinstead.

After taking a deep breath, Bellatrix raised her hand as the announcer asked for the next person to come forward. She brushed past the person whom had originally raised his hand to be heard and took to the stage. With dozens of eyes on her, Bellatrix felt a twinge of discomforted, which was quickly pushed aside. She was better than anyone here. A better professional, a better witch and a better pure-blood.

"Esteemed lady-witches and gentle-wizards," she started as she glared down to the gathered crowd from the podium. "My name is Bellatrix Black, of the noble house of Black and I am proud to work for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

More than a few wolf-whistles could be heard. Bellatrix opened her purse, took out her shiny silver badge and held it out for the crowd to see. "This badge used to mean something. A symbol of law and order within our great and pure ranks. Yet the last ten years I've been increasingly disturbed to see the Department bend over backwards to appease the mudbloods! True justice is being subverted for the sake of political gain!"

The crowd hung on Bellatrix's every word. "We've all read the papers yesterday. A dragon escaped from the Wales sanctuary and was seen by hundreds of muggles. Terrible business. But what the papers didn't tell was that the dragon escaped because its mudblood keeper was sleeping on the job! The truth has been sacrificed on the altar of political correctness!"

It was a lie, pure and simple, but the crowd was genuinely outraged. So far, her plan was working just fine. "And to make matters worse, the Ministry was forced to formally apologize... to show deference to the muggle prime minister! We are witches and wizards! Since when do we apologize to muggles foranythingwe do! Muggles and mudbloods have far too much influence over us! What has happened to our wonderful Wizard calendar? Why are we using the muggle calendar? To appease those inferior to us, that's why!" shrieked Bellatrix. "To appease the mudbloods, the entire wizarding world is using a calendar invented by an insipid muggle religion, which would have gladly and gleefully put any of us to the torch no less than two centuries ago!"

The crowd jeered and whipped up as Bellatrix spoke. It was rhetoric, illogical, nonsensical and untrue; the wizarding calendar was a convoluted and inaccurate mess, which for some idiotic reason had fourteen months in a year even after correction! Its inaccuracy had been the entire reason why the Gregorian calendar had been adopted centuries ago, for purely practical purpose. Of course, this crowd was beyond reason, beyond logic and beyond critical thinking. The gathered wizards and witched lapped it all up like sugared water.

"We need to take full measures to protect what we have!" Bellatrix said. "Because the mudblood hordes are pounding on the gates! It's five minutes to midnight, my friends! We must take action now! For a pure and beautiful wizarding world!"

The crowd erupted in cheers as Bellatrix stepped off the stage. Several of the gathered wizards clapped her on the back as she passed. More than one male hand lingered a bit too long on her flesh, making her shiver slightly. "Down with mudbloods! Down with mudbloods! Down with mudbloods!"

Her purposeful grift now over and done with, Bellatrix stepped down from the podium and quietly tried to blend back into the crowd. Her thoughts went to Hermione: If Hermione had been present, her young girlfriend would not only have been horrified and sad, but would undoubtedly have tried to head to the podium to correct what had just been said with logic, reason and good arguments. All of which would have been immediately considered invalid by these pure-bloods because a woman with 'inferior' blood was doing the talking.

Worst thing yet, Bellatrix's younger self could have easilybeenone of these morons.

Thankfully, the girl she had at home was a stark reminder why she was doing this. Bellatrix had changed much since meeting her. Today's rally just brought home just how stuck in the past a disappointing amount of pure-bloods tended to be. She didn't see strong, proud pure-blood paragons here; she saw a bunch of whiny little children, looking to blame others for their own obvious inadequacies and misfortune. Perish the thought that they would actuallydosomething about their plight and better themselves. But no, it was all moan, moan, moan, moan, complain and whine…

It was the middle of the day! Why weren't these people at work? Probably because they didn't have work in the first place.

To Bellatrix, every single one of them was beyond pathetic. Hell, even the Weasleys worked hard to make something of themselves in the world. It made them instantly more impressive than this lot of whining sods, and that was a saying a lot.

This is why she had always preferred to be alone. Worst thing was that if today didn't go well, she'd have to try again another. And again. And again. To be around all these horrid people over... and over... and over...

The dark witch made her way to the bar and ordered a double fire-whiskey. But before she could take the first sip, Bellatrix was approached by two friendly but firm looking wizards, who requested her presence. Well, if that wasn't a sign she had made the right impression, what would be? Leaving her fire-whiskey behind, the wizards took her nondescript side hallway cordoned off with a protective spell. A sign above the hallway read 'staff only'.

Through the barrier, she was led up a staircase which ended at a small balcony which overlooked the lodge hall below. Due to the fact that she had no actually seen this balcony from below, she concluded it must have been shielded by an invisibility charm. The balcony was adorned with a comfortable set of seats, a small coffee table and several tacky paintings hanging from the wood panels. On the table stood two wine-glasses, freshly poured, next to a decanter.

A slow clap sounded from the room's sole occupant as Bellatrix's approached. The two other wizards left her alone with him and closed the door behind her. "My, my, my..." sounded a disgustingly familiar voice. "That was a very impressive speech. You were a sight to behold."

Her breath caught in her throat; she was facing a ghost from her past. The wizard in front of her just like he remembered him. Tall, clad in black, pale complexion, neatly trimmed hair and a short beard on his chin. The dark witch felt many things; anger, revulsion, pain, sadness, but bit it all down. She couldn't show any weakness now.

The man sitting in front of her was none other than Rodolphus Lestrange. The man whom had almost been her husband.

"Bella," he smiled and took her hand. It took every bit of willpower in her body not to yank it back and slap him in the face immediately. Instead, Rodolphus guided her to the second seat.

"Please. Sit," he spoke. "Let me look at you."

Bellatrix pushed back the urge to wretch as his eyes roved over her body, lingering at every curve. "Merlin, you are every bit as beautiful as you were during our Hogwarts years."

He gently took her hand again and kissed the back of it. Bellatrix suppressed a shudder and had to fight to keep a haughty composure; every fiber of her being wanted to run off to find the nearest faucet and scrub off using steel wool.

This was the man whom had killed Katie so long ago, a murder he had gotten away with. Katie, the first real friend she had ever had. Lestrange had been ruthless and cruel in his days at Hogwarts and she doubted he had changed in any meaningful way. Though she was almost certain Rodolphus was too simpleminded to master the intricacies of legilimency, she wasn't willing to take the risk and put her barriers up firmly. As far she she was concerned, she didn't want Rodolphus to know Hermione even existed.

"And you are exactly as I remember you," said Bellatrix in a neutral fashion. Thankfully, Rodolphus took it as a compliment.

"Well," said Rodolphus while picking up the glasses. "Some wine?"

"Please," replied Bellatrix, trying her best to seem like pleasant company even though she would rather be bludgeoning him to death with the wine decanter.

"Before we discuss anything else, I do believe I owe you a long overdue apology," said Rodolphus.

"Oh?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow.

Rodolphus looked away, shaking his head. "When our engagement was announced, I... didn't exactly treat you like a proper lady should have been. Chalk it down on the foolishness of youth."

That was an understatement. He had gone around telling just about the entire school what he was planning to do to her on their wedding night, down to the last sordid details. She half expected him to have drawn up a chart to show to the innocent first-years.

"What's done is done," Bellatrix spoke matter-of-factly.

Rodolphus nodded as he lounged on his chair. "Indeed. I had driven you so far away you chose exile to avoid our marriage."

Bellatrix blinked. That egotist! Did he really thinkhewas the sole reason she had turned chosen to defy her family? Certainly, he was the catalyst, but he was giving himself far too much credit. "I did rather well for myself," said Bellatrix as neutrally as she could while fighting back the bile which was bubbling up.

"Indeed," spoke Rodolphus. "You might be pleased to know that there were some vicious rumours floating about that your experience with me turned you off men altogether."

Bellatrix smirked. "Is that so? Vicious rumours indeed."

The two of them sipped their wine in silence for a moment while more wizards took to the stage to air their grievances below. Same sh*t, different guy. "Tell me," Bellatrix said. "How is Baz doing?"

Partly it was about making small-talk and partly out of genuine interest. She hadn't seen Rebastan Lestrange for many, many decades. In truth she'd always liked the man; he was Rodolphus' older brother and three years ahead of her when she first attended Hogwarts. A prefect. During her troubled first year away from home, Baz had taken her under his wing. He'd taught her how school politics worked and how to exploit the rules. Baz had treated her as somewhat of an unofficial little sister for the rest of their shared tenure and had even helped her plan the take-over of Gryffindor tower. Unlike his cad of a younger brother, Baz had always treated her with respect.

However, the moment Rebastan was mentioned, Rodolphus' pleasant demeanour did a 180 degree turn. "Don't talk to me about that filthy blood-traitor! Do you know what he did?! Twenty-five years ago he met some American bint while interning at the Department of International Magical Cooperation at the Ministry. A mudblood. A MUDBLOOD! He didn't even care, ran off the States and fathered two little mudcrawlers with her!"

Bellatrix did her best not to grin. Bet that stuck in his crow, and, really, Baz apparently has done far better.

Rodolphus seemed to calm down somewhat. "I apologize for my outburst, but it hurts my head to even think of it. I told the man I once called my bother," his voice was full of malice, "that if he were to ever return to the UK, I'd find his little mudcrawlers and kill them right before his eyes."

A perfectly sane and measured response… to a fanatic. Still, Bellatrix could latch on to something to explout. "I quite understand your feelings on the matter. My sister married a mudblood," she responded.

Rodolphus settled down somewhat. "They you know the sting of betrayal," he spat. "It hurts most when it comes from your own family, does it not?"

In truth, she didn't want to carry this any further, not even wanting to have Andromeda's name mentioned. The dark-haired witch could hear on his voice that she had won some points with him, however. Her ploy had had the desired effect; she dared to think she was doing well so far.

"I have not seen you here before," said Rodolphus. "I'm certain I would have remembered you attending one of our rallies, Bella."

Bella forced a pleasant smile. "Please, I might be a Black in exile, but I have never been a blood-traitor. Truth be told, my work keeps me rather busy. I do not have much free time."

"If you had been my wife, you wouldn't ever have had to work," said Rodolphus. The implication was clear and she resented him for it – he'd wanted her to be his own private house-witch. At home and pregnant, no doubt.

"Oh, but I quite enjoy my work," countered Bellatrix again steering the conversation. This would be an excellent opportunity to 'sell her value' to the inner circle of the Purity Front. "I work for Magical Homicides, a sub-department of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It's a very fulfilling, if rather busy job."

"Truly?" Rodolphus seemed surprised. "You solve crimes of such a dire nature?"

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "You seem surprised."

Rodolphus held up his hands. "I never meant to insult, Bella. It's just that... you weren't exactly a stickler for the rules when we last spoke. You must have broken just about every school rule in the book."

Bellatrix smirked. That much was true. "I appreciate the irony."

"Touche," he grinned at her.

"My work brought me here, actually," Bellatrix said. This would require some careful manoeuvring.

"Indeed?"

"I love working for the Department. I love what I do," said Bellatrix, keeping at least the sentiment close to the truth. "Law enforcement is very fulfilling work, necessary work. That's why it pains me so much to see mudbloods corrupt everything the Department stands for. Did you know that there are fewer and fewer pure-bloods working for the Department each year? It should be no surprise that the number of crimes solved is dwindling as well. The Department is rife with nepotism and incompetence. I hate seeing the work I love so much be undone by unscrupulous mudbloods and muggle-lovers. I'm hoping the Purity Front might be of help there."

"We grow in numbers every day," Rodolphus grinned. "We cast a long shadow, Bella. Maybe, with your help, our shadow can grow even longer. We need people in the right places if we are to ensure pure-blood rule."

Hook. Line. Sinker.

"Tell me, though," Rodolphus said. "I take it you go easier on pure-bloods than mudbloods during your investigations?"

"Absolutely not!" Bellatrix replied, not even hiding that she was insulted by the implication.

"I find that curious, given your outlook," said Rodolphus.

Bellatrix rubbed her chin. "Wise up, Rodolphus," she said. "If they are too stupid to get caught, they deserve everything that's coming to them, regardless of blood purity. Last year, we put away a pure-blood kid who had killed his pregnant half-blood girlfriend. He'd bashed his head in with a clock, never cleaned it and never got rid of it. Probably kept it as a trophy. Someone like that is a waste of space in any situation and will never amount to anything."

Rodolphus nodded and seemed to accept that answer. "Would you like another glass of wine?"

"Please."

After a surprisingly exhausting yet successful mission, Bellatrix found herself back into the street, grateful for the fresh air and the release of her adopted persona. She could act to a certain degree and this came in handy when trying to goad information from a person during an interrogation, but presenting herself as someone she was not was an entirely different thing. At least pretending to be a pure-blood supremacist was something she could do. After all, she had been one herself. In truth, she was quite satisfied with today's outcome. There were definite signs that the Purity Front was crooked; she had still to find out justhowcrooked.

The dark witch felt her lovely dress flow around her as she searched for Dora at the contact point. At the entrance of a dark alley stood a stall where an elderly witch was selling freshly roasted sugar-coated peanuts to passerby's. She had to admit they smelled awfully nice.

"Dear lady," greeted the impossibly old witch as she stood bent over behind the counter. "Can I help you?"

"I would like to see the specials. I hunger for quality dragonsnap sugar-coated Indonesian cashew," Bellatrix spoke the code-phrase.

"Right this way, dearrie," said the old witch, putting up an 'on break'-sign while she motioned her to follow. Once in a more private area behind the stall, surrounded by the barrels of ingredients needed to make the peanuts, the crone's features shifted until she was just barely recognizable as Nymphadora.

"You already know who I am. Why the code-phrase?" asked Bellatrix.

"Allow me my eccentricities," shrugged Nymphadora.

"I've made contact with the recruiter," said Bellatrix.

Nymphadora was hard-pressed to hide her surprise. "What, already? Blimey, you work fast! I was expecting you'd at least have to attend two more gatherings to get noticed," Nymphadora said while the magical golden butterfly flew off Bellatrix's dark locks and landed on the side of a small portable pensieve. "Let's see what you got."

Bellatrix looked over her shoulder. "Rather a public place, isn't it? Shouldn't we go to the safehouse for debriefing?"

"Don't worry, this alley is charmed to keep prying eyes and ears out. I'm just curious," said Nymphadora.

The pensieve came to life and showed the both of them what had happened inside the lodge. The gathering and the speech, for the first part.

"Quite a show back there," snickered Nymphadora. "Ever considered a career in politics?"

"Don't laugh," said Bellatrix. "Twenty years ago, I actually believed that bollocks."

Next, the pensieve showed her meeting with the recruiter. "Bloody hell, what a tosser," Nymphadora snarled. "I can smell his cologne from here. Oh, Merlin, that awful chest-hair.

"Tell me about it," said Bellatrix.

Nymphadora looked at Bellatrix intently. "He knows you," she spoke matter-of-factly.

"He should," said Bellatrix. "That is Rodolphus Lestrange."

"Is that someone I should have heard of?"

"He was almost my husband," Bellatrix sighed. "Before I refused him and got myself exiled for my trouble."

Nymphadora sighed heavily. "sh*t. That could be dangerous. Is he a threat to your cover?"

"Bloody hell no," Bellatrix snorted. "If anything he's a boon to my cover. He's the same dense idiot he used to be. Last time we saw each other was at Hogwarts, and that was over two decades ago. No, he's completely convinced I'm still the rabid pure-blood supremacist I used to be. Rodolphus being the recruiter is going to work in my favour. He asked me to come visit the lodge again tomorrow."

"Just be on your toes," said Nymphadora. "And remember your ring if you find yourself in danger."

"I'll be fine," Bellatrix shook her head. "That idiot won't get the better of me. I can guarantee that."

"Right, head over to the safe house. I'll close the stand for the evening and join you in a bit. We'll do a proper debriefing. Then get some rest, you've earned it," said Nymphadora. "Oh, and remember to say hi to Hermione from me."

Bellatrix grinned and crossed her arms when the butterfly returned to its perch among her dark curls. "Hey, what about my cashew?"

Nymphadora once again shifted into her old crone persona. "Of course, dearrie," she cackled.

After a very successful first day of undercover work had concluded with a very lengthy and detailed debriefing with Dora at the auror safehouse in Dartford, Bellatrix carefully replaced the magical butterfly into its case and locked it in the safe.

Finally, it was time to go home. The dark witch popped into existence from her fireplace in her house, still chewing the last of the delicious sugared cashew. The first thing she noticed was a strong smell of burned food as she drew in her first breath.

"Pet?" she asked. "I'm home. Dora says 'hi'."

"Over here, Belle," Hermione called out, apparently from the kitchen. And there she found her beloved Hermione, looking rather crestfallen as she stood over a charred husk on the kitchen counter. In fact, she looked rather cute; wearing slacks and an old T-shirt and with damp bushy hair, the young witch stood bare-foot in the kitchen, apparently studying what was left of a once promising meal.

"What's that supposed to be?" Bellatrix asked.

"Our dinner. This charred ruin is supposed to be the lamb casserole I wanted to surprise you with," Hermione said mournfully. "I botched it up quite expertly, I fear. I suppose I'm a better potioneer than a chef. I thought it was safe take a shower while the lamb roasted in the oven. I really shouldn't have done that, because..."

At that moment, Hermione looked up and was utterly stunned. Bellatrix first reaction was to look over her shoulder to see what was happening behind her, until she realized she was still wearing the sexy dress and her hair actually looked good today.

"Oh... my..." Hermione gulped. "You look gorgeous!"

Bellatrix playfully crossed her arms. "Are you implying that I usually don't?"

"Notthisgorgeous…"

Bellatrix shrugged. "It's my undercover kit. Do you like it? Uhm, pet? Eyes are up here."

"I know perfectly well where your eyes are," said Hermione as her eyes kept roving over Bellatrix's body. "You need to go undercover more often, Belle."

"I suppose we'll be eating out today," Bellatrix said when regarding the botched dinner.

"Uh-huh," was Hermione's lustful reply.

Bellatrix blinked. Usually it was Bellatrix herself who came up with the double-entendres to embarrass her more prudish girlfriend. Her new look must have really gotten to Hermione. "Oh, get your mind out of the gutter, Hermione! I'm hungry!"

Hermione snapped out of what fantasy she had been having and nodded in response. "Yes, I suppose so," she sounded somewhat disappointed. "Which restaurant did you have in mind? Or maybe we could get take-away again."

Bellatrix put her finger to her lips. It would be a shame to waste having this dress on if she'd just get take-away with Hermione. Actually, it was a very alluring thought to take the young witch somewhere. However, she couldn't risk being seen with Hermione by one of the Front's many pure-blood agents, certainly not as her speech was apparently the news of the day among the Front members. A visit to a wizarding restaurant would be out of the question. So, there was only one option... a dire option, but an option nonetheless. "How about that muggle pub you've been pestering me to try out?"

Indeed; though she risked disease by going to a muggle place, there would be no chance of accidentally meeting a pure-blood there.

Hermione blinked. "What's gotten into you today?!"

"Just go change clothes before I change my mind, pet," Bellatrix smirked. About ten minutes later, Hermione hooked her arm through Bellatrix's and both lovers strolled off into the evening.

Though the pub was packed and more than a few Muggle eyes were on Bellatrix, she didn't feel as nervous and threatened as she usually did among muggles. Honestly, all her attention had been on Hermione as they chatted and generally enjoyed their evening together. Certainly, she'd been a bit overdressed for the pub, but it had given Hermione reason to be excessively flirty with her all evening.

After a lovely dinner, Bellatrix and Hermione decided on a pleasant walk back home to their cottage. Evening was falling fast, bathing the countryside in a soft orange glow with the setting of the sun. Hermione had her arm hooked around Bellatrix' possessively.

"Can you believe those men back there?" Hermione huffed. "Trying to chat you up while you were seated right in front of your girlfriend. I bet they wouldn't have tried it if I'd been a seven foot tall lorry-driver with scores of tattoos."

"If you'd been a seven foot tall lorry-driver with scores of tattoos, I wouldn't have been with you in the first place, pet," Bellatrix couldn't help but chuckle. A jealous Hermione was a cute Hermione, after all.

"'Hey, I'm looking for treasure. Could I search your chest?'" Hermione repeated one of the more awful examples which had been directed at Bellatrix that evening. "Right in front of me!"

"Perhaps that's why most of those blokes came in pairs," Bellatrix winked, throwing oil on the fire.

"Don't remind me!" Hermione sighed. "Ugh, 'My name is Peter Pan and I want to take you to Never Never Land'. Oh, god, how do they come up with that rubbish?"

"I think you got the point across when you kissed me on the mouth," Bellatrix said with a grin. "Quite... passionately violent, I might add."

"You weren't complaining," said Hermione as the two rounded the corner on the footpath, still linked through the arms. "In fact, I daresay you were loving all the attention."

"Pfffft, they were just filthy muggles, pet."

"Filthy Muggles who were appreciatively ogling you, Belle," Hermione shot back.

The dark-haired which shrugged, letting out a cackle which sent her dark curls out of formation. "Well," she smirked. "That's bound to happen when the peasantry lays eyes on perfection, pet."

Hermione made a mock-gagging sound. "Oh, you arrogant twit."

"What you see as arrogance," Bellatrix grinned wickedly. "I see as a matter of accuracy in self-assessment."

"And that's why I kissed you in front of everybody," Hermione said without a shred of the usual embarrassment which came with the usual showing of public affection. "I wanted the whole pub to see that you'remineand mine alone!"

And that was exactly the reason why Bellatrix hadn't want to go to a wizarding establishment instead.

"Still," Hermione's expression softened. "It was a fun pub with good food and a pleasant atmosphere... when we weren't beset by randy men. Nice ending to a horrible day."

"Oh?" Bellatrix asked. "What happened?"

"The day started pleasant enough, but all of a sudden I got stuck with answering a load of letters of complaint which came out of nowhere," said Hermione. "There were literally dozens of them! Apparently, some complete idiot has started a rumour that the dragon escaping from the sanctuary was due to a muggle-born keeper sleeping on the job. I swear, have you ever heard anything quite as insane? There aren't even muggle-borns on staff at the sanctuary!"

"I... see..." Bellatrix bit her lip.

"So I spent my valuable time writing back to all those angry people," Hermione sighed heavily. "I swear, if I ever get my hands on the idiot who started that rumour, I'm going to personally feed him or her to the dragon!"

Bellatrix laughed at the unexpected side-effect of her earlier ploy. "You're so cute when you make violent threats."

Finally, they arrived home. After stepping through front door, what Bellatrix was expecting happened almost immediately; she was being pressed against the wall by a girl with hunger and lust in her normally oh-so-gentle brown orbs. "Belle," she whispered. "I want to measure exactly how much seconds it takes for that dress to come up."

Once in the bedroom, Hermione made her accurate measurement quite successfully.

A few hours later, Bellatrix lay on her back in bed, exhausted after a wonderful evening of lovemaking. Hermione lay sleeping, her head on resting on Bellatrix's midriff, close enough for her soft bushy hair to tickle the underside of her breasts. Her girlfriend was draped over her, one hand lain over Bellatrix's shoulder, while the girl's other hand grasped at her side. Hermione's chest raised rhythmically with every breath.

"Muddy mine," Bellatrix whispered while reached down to run a hand through Hermione's hair. She glanced at her oversized signet ring, her family motto engraved into it. Bellatrix chuckled inwardly. If the more 'conservative' elements of her family could have seen her right now, she'd be blasted off that damn tapestry at Grimmauld Place in an instant.

Chapter 4: Calling bluffs

Chapter Text

Once again, Bellatrix found herself in the Purity Front lodge. Admittedly, the dark witch had not been looking forward to having to deal with Rodolphus for a second time, but if it got her closer to the inner workings of the Front there was no better way. It was just a matter of trying to mask her disgust long enough to pry the information from him. Even she had to admit that once her breaking point had been reached, her self-control tended to… wane. So, she steeled herself and entered the lodge.

The festhall was surprisingly busy for the time of day. She was about to see if there were familiar faces attending, but the moment she had entered the same wizards whom had approached her yesterday led her up to the camouflaged balcony overlooking the lodge. No doubt the wizards had been instructed be be on the look-out for her.

Once up the stairs, she stepped onto the balcony where Rodolphus was already waiting for her, wine glasses and all. Immediately, she noticed the difference; in contrast with yesterday, his beard had been neatly trimmed and his hair... it lacked the slight streaks of grey which it had the previous day. She wondered if the tosser had actually had it permed. The clothes looked distinctly more posh too as he wore an expensive looking Italian robe, showing no chest-hair today. A small mercy, at least.

On the table was... not wine, but rather champagne. Expensive champagne. The man was being blatantly obvious. Still, Bellatrix was not about to simply just snub a glass of Dom Perignon.

"Ah, Bella," he said, once again stepping forward to kiss her hand. "It is so lovely to see you again."

"How could I ignore such a kind invitation, Rodolphus?" Bellatrix lied while Rodolphus offered her a glass of champagne. Bellatrix took a small sip and let the soothing liquid slide down her throat. "I passed the crowd downstairs. Quite a turn-out today."

Rodolphus grinned to himself and strolled over to the side of the balcony. "More pure-bloods are rallying to our banner, Bella. It's especially inspiring to see so many young pure-bloods here. Bless'em, they spread the word. They are the Front's footsoldiers."

Bellatrix nodded. "And the lightning rod for your inner circle."

Rodolphus spun around and shot her a grin. "Very astute, Bella. We are fighting an invisible war. A struggle to secure pure-blood rights and eventual rule. A struggle which requires the right people at the right place at the right time. A struggle I would very much like you to be a part of, Bella."

Bellatrix was quite satisfied with herself; so far she was doing well to gain Rodolphus' confidence. Still, she didn't like the way he looked at her. It helped that the vile man was attracted to her, but that didn't stop her from loathing him to the core.

"I mentioned your name, your position and your, ahum, enthusiasm to my associates," said Rodolphus. "I don't want you as a mere agent or propagandist. I want you to be a full member of the inner circle, with all the status and privileges which comes with that. Someone like you deserves nothing less."

Bellatrix felt elated; this was going even better than she had hoped. In an effort to look arrogant and imperious, she raised her chin as if looking down on him. "Of course," she drawled.

"I'm afraid to say that, well, the others are still sadly somewhat wary about you because your, well, position within Magical Law Enforcement," Rodolphus muttered.

The dark witch quite understood that the others were more wary about her. It as quite logical, even; pure-blood or not, she was still a policewoman, after all. Time to put her acting skills to work.

"What?!" Bellatrix feigned outrage. "My name should speak for itself! They should feel honoured to have me!" She tried to sound as arrogant and haughty as possible, a tactic that worked on Rodolphus.

The wizard was quick to hold up his hands. "Now, now, just hear me out. And don't get me wrong, they're intrigued about gaining someone with your pedigree and connections to our ranks, but they want to be absolutely sure that you can be trusted. The DMLE has tried to infiltrate us before, after all."

"So now you accuse me of being a spy?!" Bellatrix snarled harshly. "This is an insult!" For good measure, she downed the champagne in one go and slammed down the glass. She had pushed Rodolphus in a corner somewhat, hoping to provoke a reaction.

"Bella, please calm down. Your pure-blood genealogy is not in doubt and I told them about… your devotion to the pure-blood cause."

That was indeed the reaction she was hoping for. She allowed herself to calm down somewhat.

"In fact, you are in a perfect position to help the cause, if you are willing," smirked Rodolphus.

"Ask," Bellatrix pressed. Obviously there was going to be some sort of loyalty test.

Rodolphus picked up his glass and took a sip. "A friend of ours, Antonin Dolohov, has gotten himself in a spot of bother recently. He has some, well, businesses on the side, as they say."

That was an understatement. Bellatrix knew the name quite well; Dolohov's name had been regularly connected to unsavoury practices such as illegal polyjuice brothels, trafficking dark artifacts and extortion, not to mention he had been connected to several missing persons cases.

"Obviously, they can't pin anything on him, so the DMLE is hitting him with some nonsensical trumped up tax evasion charge. That could put him out of commission for a couple of years. Would be nice if the evidence against Dolohov were to… disappear, if you catch my meaning."

Bellatrix rubbed her chin. "I see. Well, that might not be as hard as you think. Evidence gets lost all the time at the Department. I'll see what I can do."

Rodolphus smiled. "Doing this for us will go a long way towards earning the inner circle's trust," he said. "The inner circle help each other and the pure-blood cause. You will find many benefits in becoming one of us, Bella."

Bellatrix took a sip of her wine. "Indeed? We shall see."

"Bella," asked Rodolphus. "I hope you don't think me too forward, but I couldn't help but notice that you don't have a ring on your finger."

Bellatrix almost groaned at Rodolphus' rather feeble attempt at flirting. The dark witch never changed her expression, and held up her hand to show him her Black family signet ring and her other hand to show her obsidian stone lady's ring. "I see two rings. You need to get your eyes examined," Bellatrix chuckled, allowing herself a moment of retaliation. For his part, Rodolphus seemed frustrated for a brief moment.

"You know what I mean," Rodolphus chuckled. "No wedding ring."

"Noticed that, haven't you?" Bellatrix co*cked her head sideways.

"Might you be seeing someone, Bella?" he asked bluntly.

Immediately, Bellatrix strengthened her barriers and pushed any thoughts of Hermione as deep into her mind as possible. Her answer required some quick thinking. "No, she said. "I work too many hours to even consider getting into the dating scene."

A grin appeared on Rodolphus' face. The sort of grin Bellatrix really didn't like to see on a man's face. She instantly cursed herself for not making up that she had some sort of paramour.

"No spouse in your life, then?" Bellatrix asked, hoping to get his attention off her for just a brief moments. Quite difficult since her lovely dress her had breasts on display quite prominently and she had caught Rodolphus stealing peeks on more than one occasion.

"Sadly, no," Rodolphus replied. "Your father is to blame for that, ironically."

That intrigued the dark witch. After her exile, she hadn't been privy to the inner workings of her family's machinations after all. "Indeed?"

Rodolphus almost laughed while he looked away. "Your father did some backpedaling when it became obvious that you would not return to your family and put the blame on my shoulders. Now, I'm the first to say that my behaviour towards you was... less than gracious, but your father completely vilified me because of it, no doubt with help from my dear, dear brother. Other families were frightened that I might scare off their daughters as well. Soon I became, well, un-marriagable."

At least her father had done something right. No doubt Rodolphus was quite enjoying his position as recruited. No doubt there were plenty of pretty young hopefuls willing to do anything to get further in the Front's hierarchy.

And really, the look on his face said it all; By offering her a shortcut into the inner circle, he believed he was bestowing a tremendous honor. She was supposed to be impressed. She was supposed to be honoured. She was supposed to be… grateful. Bellatrix thought about what he would be expecting in return and suppressed a shudder; the dark-haired witch had a pretty good idea what Rodolphus would be expecting of her.

Right. Time to leave. Quickly.

Once outside, Bellatrix let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding as the fresh air came as a blessed relief. Soon, she found herself strolling across the streets of Diagon Alley, often stopping at a shop or other to pretend to check out the wares. So far, Nymphadora had yet to contact her.

She was about to give up and head over to the Leaky Cauldron to use its floo to go home, when a small girl, looking to be seven years of age, gently pulled on the side of her dress. "Please, miss," the child spoke with tearful eyes. "I've lost my dolly! Please help me find her."

Bellatrix sighed heavily. She didn't have time for this at all. The dark witch was about to tell the kid to get lost, but there was something about the girl that looked off. Familiar, even.

"Oh, come on," hissed the kid, quiet enough to be only heard by Bellatrix. "Don't tell me you don't recognize me."

"Dora?" Bellatrix's eyebrows shot up into the stratosphere.

"Shut up, take me by the hand and pretend to look around for a missing doll," hissed Nymphadora through clenched teeth.

Bellatrix did just that. Together, the two of them walked through Diagon Alley.

"You look a lot different from when you were really seven," said Bellatrix.

"Keep quiet and don't look over your shoulder," Nymphadora replied. She spoke in a childlike voice, since her vocal chords had apparently been affected by the change in her body as well. "You're being followed."

Bellatrix nodded, keeping up the facade of looking for a lost doll. "I already know. That man has been tailing me ever since I've left the lodge. The black robe he's wearing isn't exactly inconspicuous."

"How did your meeting with Lestrange go?" asked Nymphadora.

"I'm not blind, he wants me to prove my worth to the inner circle," Bellatrix replied. "Also, he absolutely wants to shag me."

"Ew," Nymphadora replied.

"Tell me about it," Bellatrix sighed.

"What does he want you to do?"

"What?" Bellatrix smirked. "In his bedroom, you mean? Perish the thought."

"This is a serious matter, auntie," Nymphadora sighed. "You know what I mean."

Bellatrix and Nymphadora stopped at a vendor where the dark-haired witch bought her an icecream cone. From the corner of her eye, Bellatrix saw that their tail had stopped as well, pretending to lean against the wall for a brief rest. The two of them walked on through Diagon alley, their shadow following them from a distance. "You know the Antonin Dolohov case? The tax evasion charge?"

"Oh, let me guess, they want you to make sure the evidence disappear?" Nymphadora replied while licking the icecream.

Bellatrix nodded. "Right in one guess."

"Bloody hell, we really were really pushing for a conviction. I'll talk to Pius about it. He'll probably have puppies," Nymphadora sighed.

"Make him see reason," said Bellatrix. "If we take down the inner circle, we'll get Dolohov too. And for more than just a bogus tax evasion charge."

"You do your job, I'll do mine," said Nymphadora before dropping the remainder of her icecream. "There's my dolly!" she suddenly ran off to grab an old rag-doll from a barrel. Nymphadora hugged Bellatrix's legs in an overly dramatic fashion before skipping off and disappearing into an alley. There'd be no debriefing today. Time to go home.

XXX

With a telltale pop, Bellatrix emerged from the floo. Glad to be home, Bellatrix stepped into her living room and found Hermione vigorously typing away on an old typewriter in what was the office area of their living room. Though calling it an office-area was doing it too much honour; it was mostly a desk with a typewriter, some quills, parchments and paperweights. Along with a small plastic inbox for bills and mails. Of course, a nice study was planned for the second floor of the granary-turned-library, but once again lack of budget had put a temporary end to that plan. Her unfortunate girlfriend would have to make do with one of those insipid Muggle IKEA monstrosities for the time being.

Bellatrix watched Hermione for a while. Her young girlfriend was diligently typing away, completely and utterly focused on her work as she always was. Workaholic in the making, she would often say, much to Hermione's chagrin.

"Good evening," greeted Bellatrix as she stepped up to Hermione and gently placed her hands on the sides of her shoulders. In response, Hermione threw her head back, folding herself over the back of her chair. In this awkward position, the two briefly brushed lips before Hermione got back to her typing.

"There's a fresh pot of soup on the stove if you want it," Hermione said without looking up from her paper. "Picked up some snacks at the supermarket for your poker game tonight."

"Bollocks, almost forgot about that," Bellatrix said as she made her way up the stairs to exchange her sexy dress for something more mundane before walking back down and into the kitchen. There, she found a large pan of tomato soup and poured herself a bowl. After taking a few spoonfuls of Hermione's excellent soup, she returned to the living room with bowl in hand. It was then that she noticed a large potted plant standing next to the sofa. However, something looked decidedly off about it. It smelled right, but upon closer inspection it looked rather... off. She poked it for good measure and it moved rather unnaturally.

"Pet?" Bellatrix asked. "What kind of plant is this?"

Hermione didn't look up from her typing. "You like it? They had a sale and I thought it would look nice in our living room."

"It does, but something's wrong with it," Bellatrix said and pinched one of the leaves. "It... feels wrong too."

"It's plastic."

"Ey?"

"It's a fake plastic plant. I just put a charm on it to make it smell nice."

"A... fake plant?" Bellatrix was rather surprised. "Why not just get a real one?"

"Because real ones die," was the response. Again, Hermione didn't look up from her typing. "This one will always look nice and will require zero care. We'll just need to dust it once in a while."

"Huh, alright," Bellatrix frowned. Muggles were weird, weird creatures. "What are you working on?" she asked before she put another spoon of soup in her mouth.

"A pamphlet," said Hermione, finally looking up from her work. She grabbed a long scroll and handed it to Bellatrix. "Belle, would you like to sign my petition?"

"Petition?" Bellatrix put down her bowl of soup on the side of the desk and unrolled the scroll. Already, it was half filled with names and signatures. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were at the very top, as was about the majority of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and the entire Weasley family. It was then that she read the title of the scroll. "Petition for the Government to Reconsider the Employment of Dementors at Azkaban? What prompted this, pet?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "We had a dementor in today," the young witch seemed to involuntarily hug herself after mentioning the name. "It was caught in Greenwich park, preying on Muggles. It's going to be relocated to Azkaban. The foul creature was in lock-up next to the office, but I had to go in to hand some paper-work to the aurors bringing it in. I was only standing next to it for no longer than a minute, but... it made me feel as if I was about to die."

"Pet," Bellatrix gently put a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Did it touch you?"

"No, I was just near it. But it did something to me," said Hermione. "I tried to think of you... and I just couldn't remember. I tried as hard as I could, but I couldn't even remember your name. Or any of my friends, my parents... I think I fainted at some point. I woke up on the sofa in the reception area. Cleo at reception gave me some chocolate to recover, but the whole ordeal got me thinking. I was only near one dementor for a minute, but those poor people in Azkaban are surrounded by hundreds of those beasts, constantly. Imagine being there, trapped, no hope, every happy thought drained from you."

"The people there are criminals, pet," said Bellatrix, perhaps a bit too harshly than intended. "Murderers, rapists, scum..."

"Not all of them!" Hermione snapped. "They also put people with a short sentences in there for maybe a week or so. Like flying their broom under influence! Don't tell me that flying a broom a bit tipsy warrants being exposed to dementors! That's cruel and unusual punishment, Belle. Even witnesses are put in there for their own protection. It's monstrous!"

"If people don't want to be in Azkaban, they shouldn't commit crimes," Bellatrix replied.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "That's an over-simplification and you know it! No other government employs dementors to guard their prisons."

The dark-haired witch let out a sigh as she rubbed her temples. "Azkaban is as much about containing the dementors as it is for the prisoners," said Bellatrix.

"That's even worse!" said a horrified Hermione. "Just throwing people to the wolves like that."

"Would you rather have those things flying about in the world attacking everybody they can get their ice-cold claws on?" Bellatrix challenged.

Hermione seemed placated somewhat by that prospect. "No... but there's got to be another way. Just imagine, Belle, what if it was you? What if you were in Azkaban?"

That got Bellatrix's blood running cold. Shehadbeen to Azkaban, after all, on several occasions. These were all professional visits, of course, to interrogate prisoners for cases she had been working on. The longest she had spent there had been about a full day, but that had been longer than she could stand. She remembered passing a courtyard on the way to the holding area, and suddenly founding herself surrounded with dozens of those things. They kept their distance, but she could sense that they hungered for her, and had wanted nothing more than to descend upon her and tear the very soul from her body.

Instead, they stole from her from a distance. Bellatrix had never been one of the most positively charged persons in the world and before she had met Hermione that had been even worse. The dementors had been 'kind' enough to take what little positivity and happiness she had at the moment and it had taken her weeks to recover from that single visit. She didn't want to imagine what it would be to be trapped in Azkaban with those things for weeks... Years... Decades...

"You can't change the world, Hermione," Bellatrix finally told her young, kind-hearted girlfriend when the discomfort passed.

"Perhaps not, but this petition might get people talking, at least. It only takes one loose pebble to start a landslide."

"Pet," Bellatrix smiled at her Hermione. "You know what your problem is? Your heart is the size of a melon."

The young witch smirked. "Got room for you in it, after all."

"Alright, I'll sign your damn petition," Bellatrix chuckled when she took the parchment to sign her name.

"Thank you," Hermione smiled warmly while Bellatrix put her signature on the parchment.

Hermione took the parchment and Bellatrix once again focused on her soup, not wanting to think about dementors anymore. She sat down on the sofa and finished the rest of it, putting the bowl on the coffee table. The young witch joined her on the couch and curled up against her. "Might be home late tomorrow," said Hermione. "Harry and I are planning a birthday party for Ron."

"Not to worry," said Bellatrix.

"Oh, and, uhm, mum is coming round to visit next weekend," said Hermione.

Oh dear.

Bellatrix sighed heavily and gently pulled the young witch against her. "Your parents hate me, pet."

"They don't hate you!" Hermione protested. "They... might think you're a little eccentric, but they certainly don't hate you. Mum really likes you, I know that for a fact."

This started a discussion about both their parents, which was thankfully cut short by the arrival of Bellatrix's friends and colleagues. Bombur Whiskersnap, the elderly wizard, was the first to emerge out of a fireplace, followed suit by Jensen and Petunia. Bellatrix's boss nodded at her and hung his long leather coat on the coatrack, conveniently located right next to the fireplace. Petunia, the stocky middle-aged witch with rosy cheeks winked at Hermione and Bellatrix before presenting the bottles of spirits she had brought. Barty followed suit, looking pale and nervous as usual; he was someone who didn't get out much and probably missed the morgue already. Late as usual was Jimmy Richards, who came out of the floo when the others were already getting settled in. Today was the last day of the month, and her colleagues had started a new tradition at the start of this year; a sub-department poker game to celebrate the end of the month, conveniently held just after they had received their salary. The idea had come from Jimmy; every month they'd hold the game at one of their homes, rotating every month. This month it was Bellatrix's turn to play host. Not that she minded all that much; even in its unfinished state, she was proud enough of her home to show it off.

"Thank you both for inviting us to your beautiful home," said Bombur as he tipped his pointy hat.

"That's just Bombur saying he'll try not to fart in your presence," Petunia winked to Hermione.

Bellatrix grimaced. "Please go outside if you have to do that, Bombur," said the dark witch. "I don't want all our plants to die. Evenifthey're made out of plastic."

"I wonder if that would count as conspiracy with intent to murder," Jensen rubbed his beard.

Barty laughed. "Can't be worse than some of the stiffs I get. You don't know pong until you've sniffed someone who's been in the Thames for a week."

"My wife would probably prefer the company of that corpse over me," Bombur smiled.

Hermione watched the exchange with the detached interest of an anthropologist studying a tribe of natives in the amazon. Bellatrix surmised her young girlfriend still wasn't quite used to the often harsh and direct humour she and her colleagues shared.

"Wow, got a haircut?" asked Barty.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes in response. "No, Barty, I had an encounter with a low-flying broom."

"Wanted to look nice for Hermione?" asked Petunia as the group moved to the dining chamber to set up the game. "I sorta get that when you're involved with a witch who's about twenty-five years younger than you."

Bellatrix growled slightly. "Thanks for that. I feel old now."

"Oh come on, you're barely middle-aged," Petunia shrugged. Bellatrix supposed that was true; wizard life-spans were quite a bit longer than Muggles and relationships between older and younger people were not unheard of because of it. Still, it wouldn't be the first time that people had commented on the age-gap between them. Not that Bellatrix cared overly much, but the gossip had been mostly directed towards Hermione, which was something that the dark-haired witch certainly didn't appreciate.

"Hey, Hermione," said Jimmy in that atrociously co*cky American accent of his. "Do you have any idea what this bitch has been doing? I mean, we've been working our asses off at the office and she just up and disappears."

"Drop it, Richards," Jensen ordered in a low voice.

"Oh, come on, boss," said Jimmy while he leaned against the wall, right in front of Hermione, no doubt wanting to put his perceived American charm to work on her. He offered the increasingly irate Bellatrix a playful wink as he did so.

"Oi!" Bellatrix crossed her arms. "Leave my girlfriend alone, you bleedin' yank!"

Hermione was way ahead of her, however. "Sorry," Hermione told Jimmy. "I'm not going to spill the beans. Belle is going to have to tell you herself."

"Aw," Jimmy pouted. "But she never will!"

While bowls were being filled with snacks and the first bottles of ale were being opened, the lot of them took a seat around the table in the dining room. As was tradition, Jensen was the one who shuffled the cards while the others put down a few sickles and knuts to get the game started.

"You are not joining us, Hermione?" Bombur asked.

Bellatrix saw her pet shake her head briefly. "I don't think so. I have some reading to catch up on, so I'll be in the living room. You just enjoy yourself and don't mind me," said Hermione.

Barty licked his lips like he usually did. "Oh, come on, you can't just sit in the living room while we are having fun here. Stay with us and play a few rounds. Or just hang around and chat if you don't want to play."

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "Lads, if she doesn't want to play, then..."

"Nonsense," said Petunia. "Hermione, dear, why don't you sit down and play a few hands with us. You'll like it, I'm sure you will."

Hermione, quite reluctantly, sat down and seemed rather uncomfortable with it all. "Pet," Bellatrix started. "If you're not comfortable, you don't have to play. Just sit with us, chat and enjoy the snacks."

"I don't want to be a burden," Hermione bit her lip. "I don't know the rules of the game, you see? But if someone could take the time to explain it to me, I'm sure I'll pick it up as we go along."

It was then that Petunia and Jimmy shared a brief look. Bellatrix knew that look all too well and she didn't like it at all. "Don't worry, Hermione," Jimmy grinned. "We'll teach you. And we'll play with sickles and knuts only, so there's no pressure."

"Oh, no!" Bellatrix hissed. "You two blaggards aren't robbing my girlfriend blind!"

"Who, us?" Petunia replied as innocently as she could. "Bells, I'm shocked at the accusation."

"Don't worry, Belle," said Hermione. "Like Jimmy said, we'll only play with sickles and knuts. What's the worst that could happen?"

Broad grins appeared all around her, and Bellatrix fought the urge to hex both Jimmy and Petunia right then and there. Of course, Hermione was a responsible adult; though Bellatrix was annoyed at the idea of her girl getting robbed, she was a grown woman who could make her own decisions.

"Oh, before we start," said Hermione. "Would any of you like to sign my petition?"

The evening and the fun continued as the group played, drank, snacked and chatted about all manner of topics. As it turned out, Hermione played more than just a few rounds. As all the times before, Hermione put her hand on the table. "Is this any good?" she asked.

"Hm, three of a kind," said Bombur. "Beats my two pairs."

"You're doing very well, Hermione," Jensen added.

Hermione seemed surprised and raked the sickles towards her. She was gathering quite a few coins, but Bellatrix didn't trust Petunia and Jimmy for one bit; once those two cardsharks smelled blood, nobody was safe. Once they had lulled Hermione in a false sense of security, they'd both strike.

"You know," started Jimmy while dipping a tortilla-chip into the spicey dip before bringing it to his mouth. "I've been living here for almost eight years now and I've seen some really big differences between the UK wizarding community and the wizards back in the States."

It was Bellatrix's turn to deal and she flicked the cards to all the players after shuffling. "Pray tell, what is your observation, oh wisest of yankee-doodle-dandies?" she asked. Truth be told, she wasn't really interested in the answer, but she hoped the sound of his own voice would distract him from swindling her girlfriend.

"As far I've seen, American wizards are far more involved with the rest of the world. Even the most rabid pure-blood stand with one foot in the Muggle world," Jimmy spoke. "Case in point, a good friend of my father is a pure-blood living in Texas. He's as pure-blood as they come; hates muggle-borns with the passion of a thousand suns. But at the same time, he's card-carrying member of the NRA, owns a 50 cal sniper rifle and a whole slew of guns, listens to Rush Limbaugh and enjoys demolition derbies. In fact, the only thing he hates more than muggle-borns are Mexican muggle-borns."

Bellatrix frowned at him. "Okay, things you have to explain to me: NRA, 50 cal, Rush Limbaugh and demolition derbies."

"You see!" Jimmy pointed at her as if Bellatrix's ignorance of US muggle-culture was a grand statement. "I bet that if I walk up to any muggle Brit in the streets of London and ask them, they can tell me exactly what those things are."

"Intriguing," Hermione asked. "Is the US wizarding community so much more open towards muggle culture?"

Jimmy shrugged. "I guess we're a bit more inclusive. Comes with all of us living in the Greatest Country the World Has Ever Known!"

Bombur scoffed. "Yeah, right," the elderly wizard chuckled. "Try spelling 'Greatest Country' without an 'o'. It's more accurate that way."

Jimmy smirked. "Yeah, you enjoy your little hidey hole and your scones, Bomby. Meanwhile, us American wizards love Hollywood and hamburgers."

The dark-haired witch suppressed a snort and ignored Bombur. "I suppose you have a theory to share with us why American wizards are more inclusive? "

Jimmy shrugged. "Nothing conclusive," he bit his lip. "But, I think it has something to do with the class-based thinking in British society. Upstairs, downstairs and as little mingling as possible."

Hermione thought for a moment. "You might be on to something there, Jimmy, but in itself it's a bit too simple an explanation. Hm, what about these cards? Is this a good hand?"

The moment the other players saw Hermione's cards, a chorus of'I'm out!'sfollowed. As the evening progressed, Bellatrix made an odd observation; the moment where Petunia and Jimmy would pounce upon the hapless Hermione had not yet come. Her young girlfriend still hadn't lost a single hand.

"Say," Bombur spoke while dealing the cards. "There's been another murder up in Canada. Definitely of the serial kind. There's been... what? Thirteen murders so far?"

"Fourteen," Jensen corrected. "They still haven't got any leads."

"Hah," replied Bellatrix before groaning at the terrible, terrible hand she'd just been dealt. "If we lot had been on the case, we'd have caught the killer by now." The pride had been evident on her voice and her colleagues nodded in solid agreement.

Hermione looked up from her cards, concern on her face. "There's been murders in Canada?"

"Yep," Jimmy replied. "You probably never found out because the Daily Prophet prints the stories about it on page forty-eight, just underneath the crossword and literally next to the funny pages. It's typical of the UK wizarding world. Sure, awful murders are awful, but as long as it's not happening in the UK, they don't give a flying f*ck about it. Sure, kill everybody you like, just not in my backyard."

"The murders are seemingly random," said Bellatrix. "The killer takes bodyparts as souvenirs."

Hermione blinked. "That's heinous! How long has this been going on?"

"Too long," Bombur muttered. "It's a disgrace that they haven't caught the killer yet. Pure-bloods, half-bloods, muggle-borns... all have been victims."

Bellatrix bit her lip, once again wondering how the hell she could attempt a good play with cards like these. "Be fair, Bombur. If there killings are indeed random, that'll make it rather difficult to find the killer. If there's no connection..." Bellatrix muttered, deciding to give up on this awful hand for now.

"Don't make excuses for incompetence, Bella," Bombur interrupted.

The topic closed, the game went on. As the evening whiled into the small hours, the one thing that quickly became obvious was that Hermione was on fire. Most of the gathered group caught on to this quickly enough; Jensen and Bellatrix at first, then Bombur and Barty. However, Petunia and Jimmy, both too stubborn for their own good, continued playing against Hermione in a vain attempt to win back their losses. To Bellatrix's eternal pride, they both ended up being completely played under the table by her young girlfriend.

"What do you know, I win again!" Hermione smiled innocently as she raked her latest winnings towards her and pushed it to large pile of coins right next to her. "This game is ever so much fun, isn't it? It's a combination of luck, quick thinking and strategy. I rather like poker. We should play it more often."

"Oh, f*ck me!" Jimmy groaned as he slammed his forehead on the table.

"There goes my lunch for the rest of the month," Petunia sighed.

Despite some massive monetary losses, it had been a fun evening. The friends said their goodbyes and soon enough, Bellatrix and Hermione were left sitting on the sofa, leaving the cleaning for tomorrow while Hermione rather smugly counted the pile of coins she had gathered into a plastic pail. The dark-haired witch smirked at her girlfriend for a moment.

"What?" Hermione answered with a smile.

"You've played poker before."

The corners of the young witch's mouth curled up sharply. "Of course I have! Poker is just as much about luck as it is about clever playing. Belle, when the Purity Front started to get popular at Hogwarts, a couple of muggle-borns got together and we formed a group of our own. Nothing political, it was just for good company. We played all kind of games, had discussion groups and just got together to have fun. We were also a lot more inclusive. Everybody was welcome to join us, provided they were civil. We even had a few Slytherin pure-bloods whom had gotten tired of the Front's propaganda among our numbers. There was this one Ravenclaw lad who introduced us to this strategy game called Warhammer 40K. Now that ended up eating into our time…"

"And you played poker there too," interrupted Bellatrix.

"We might have had some tournaments," Hermione smiled wickedly. "I was the school's reigning poker champion. I was certainly a lot better at it than I was at wizard chess."

"Hah!" Bellatrix laughed before reaching to lay a hand on Hermione's soft, inviting cheek. "They were trying to swindle you and you took them to the proverbial cleaners instead. Well done."

Hermione smiled wickedly, took a single sickle in her hand and pressed it against Bellatrix's collarbone. The dark-haired witch hissed as the cold metal touched her skin. Hermione put two fingers on the coin and let it roam over Bellatrix's skin, until she slowly manoeuvred it towards the upper slope of her left breast, down her dress and into her bra. "Here," Hermione said as she straddled the dark witch on the sofa and gently patted her breast. "Go buy yourself something nice."

The dark witch let out a hearty laugh and wrapped her arms around her Hermione. She traced the young witch's jawline, gently pushed a loose lock of silken brown hair from her cheek before pulling her closer to her for a proper kiss. When their tongues playfully swirled around each other, Bellatrix couldn't help but be impressed by the fact that, even after two years of being together, her Hermione could still completely take her by surprise.

Chapter 5: Duel

Chapter Text

Another day, another instance where Bellatrix found herself sitting opposite to a man she loathed. Lestrange had no clue of this intense hatred, however, and kept offering that horrible flirty smirk at her. In fact, he wore a different robe today, one with a low-cut V-neck to show off his chest and, even worse, his chest hair. No doubt Rodolphus had the illusion that he had the chiselled chest of a Greek god.

The dark-haired witch was happy that she hadn't eaten yet or she might have hurled on the spot.

Once again, they were sitting on the balcony overlooking the main hall below, and once again Lestrange had glasses of expensive wine waiting for them. There were several unopened bottles in the cooler, however Perhaps he thought she would be more receptive to his advances if her defenses had been whittled down with the help of alcohol? Enough to prompt Bellatrix to carefully mind her intake.

"Antonin asked me to convey his thanks," said Rodolphus. "His solicitor contacted him this afternoon; all charges are being dropped due to lack of evidence since the Crown was unable to provide the courts with their evidence. Your doing?"

Bellatrix leaned back slightly, thrusting her cleavage forward somewhat. Though it disgusted her to be flirting with this man, his lusts made him easy to manipulate. "I might have," she husked slightly.

"Such false modesty," Rodolphus grinned. "In any case, his continued freedom is very beneficial to us and will go a long way to make you a member of our inner circle."

"However," Bellatrix co*cked her head sideways. "You want me to do something else for you first, hm? Shall I be the Front's errant girl, then? Is that how you see me? A resource to be exploited? I am a Black! I deserve respect!"

If Rodolphus was alarmed, he didn't show it. "Bella, please understand. It is by the good grace of your name and my recommendation that you are even considered to become a member of the inner circle. Hell, most members had to prove themselves for months or even years! But no matter," he said and snapped his fingers. Immediately, an obsequious house-elf appeared and handed him what seemed to be a file folder. Rodolphus took it and leaved through it to confirm it was the right one. He then dismissed the house elf and handed her the file.

From up close, she could see it was unmistakably a DMLE case-file. In fact, her breath caught in her throat when she saw which file it was; the Pettigrew murder case. A brief bout of panic gripped her by the throat when she realized that there were mentions of Hermione everywhere in the report, as well as photographs, records and transcripts. She was getting in a position where she would be ready to grab her wand from her boot, rub the ring for back-up and be prepared to fight her way out of the lodge. But the expected assault from Rodolphus and his cronies never came.

Bellatrix closed her eyes and silently thanked Jensen that he had never given her a written reprimand for her conduct with Hermione; if he had, that would also have been in that file.

"A case you worked on, I believe?" Rodolphus shifted and leafed through it for good measure. "You are quite thorough in your reports. Lovely handwriting too. The handwriting of a proper lady."

"How did you get this?" Bellatrix asked, but the answer was obvious. Pius might not have been able to get someone into the Purity Front, but the Front had certainly managed to get their people into the DMLE. Just how deep would the tendrils of the Front reach, she wondered.

"One of our contacts within the DMLE is a low-level filing clerk who's sympathetic to our cause," said Rodolphus. "He's not nearly as high up in the food chain as you are, but he funnels interesting information to us once in a while. Moderately useful information."

Bellatrix put the file back on the table. "Why bring this up? Was Pettigrew one of yours?"

Rodolphus laughed. "Oh, no. Definitely not," he replied. "It's not his murder that concerns me. It's what you found in hidden in his quarters."

The dark witch nodded, relaxing somewhat even though through this file, he had gotten uncomfortably close to Hermione. "The illegal goods. The muggle-weapons. The Front was behind it?"

Rodolphus nodded. "A war needs funding, and an invisible war is even more costly. Oh, don't look at me like that, Bella. What we do isn't exactly legal or even moral, but our cause makes it worth it. We have several smuggling routes out of the country. Most of our clients are muggles, of all things. Ironic, isn't it?"

Bellatrix leant forward. This was a major confession, one being dutifully recorded by her golden butterfly hairclip. "You put Pettigrew in Hogwarts," Bellatrix said. "The last place someone would look for illegal smuggling routes."

"He was the trafficker," said Rodolphus. "We had to get rid of Filch first, since he wouldn't play along. It took only a few threats to that insipid cat of his to force the old git to resign. By then, we had Pettigrew waiting at the side-lines. The man was a useless drunk, but he had a good head for smuggling and his gambling debts ensured his loyalty to us. The fool getting himself killed cost us a lot of dosh. Honestly, you are simply too good at your job, Bella."

The dark witch took the compliment for what it was and sat back in her chair, rubbing her chin as her mind unravelled the remaining threads. "The trap we set up was never triggered. We always assumed that Pettigrew wasn't the mastermind behind the trafficking and that the original owner would try to retrieve the items. But the Front never did because the filing clerk tipped you off beforehand."

"Exactly!" Rodolphus grinned.

"We always assumed mudbloods or half-bloods with ties to the Muggle world were doing the trading," said Bellatrix. "As no self-respecting pure-blood would get involved with Muggle artifacts in such a manner."

Rodolphus, not surprisingly, didn't pick up on the insult. "That's what you were supposed to think," he smirked.

"You do business with muggles, then, you said?" Bellatrix asked, allowing distaste to creep into her voice.

Rodolphus shrugged. "Through a middle-man. It's a necessary evil, really. A lot of muggle regimes are willing to pay insane amounts of money for enchanted weaponry, money we can use to further the pure-blood cause. We launder the money through several fronts and have it flow straight into our coffers. As for the muggles, we don't care what happens to them. Let the Muggle hordes kill each other off."

"Surely the use of enchanted muggle weaponry will alert the local ministries," Bellatrix pressed.

Rodolphus took the bait hook, line and sinker. "Not every part of the world is as... massively regulated as the UK is. There are some ministries where officials happily look the other way around, as long as their wallets are properly fattened. Our buyer in Wadiya, a petty and moronic dictator from what I have gathered, is still very much interested in the merchandise."

Bellatrix felt both sick and elated. Elated because the policewoman in her just managed to swindle a major confession out of Rodulphus, definite proof that the Purity Front was involved with very shady business. Sick, because it had been brought to light just how rotten the Front was, and just how much of a threat to wizardkind they could be. In truth, House Black had some of the most fanatical pure-blood supremacists imaginable among their numbers, but even they would have balked at trading magic with muggles to bring down the wizarding government. She thought back to the words of her father, still trying to convince her that Rodolphus was a good match for her as a husband. Her father would never have approved of what Rodolphus was doing right now. If Cygnus Black could have known what Rodolphus would be up to present day...

"Bella," said Rodolphus. "We would very much like to have those weapons back. It took a lot of effort to steal and enchant them."

Bellatrix nodded her understanding. "That... will be a tad more difficult. But... not impossible."

"If you do this for us, and you'll be assured of admittance to the inner circle," smirked Rodolphus. "You and I will go far, Bella. I guarantee it."

Indeed. Quite far. A stone-toss right into Azkaban.

"I do wonder about something, though," asked Rodolphus as he poured them both another glass of wine. "Peter Pettigrew might have been a waste of space, but he was still a pure-blood. And your suspect, this Granger girl mentioned in the file, is a mudblood. You went remarkably easy on her."

"You're read the file," Bellatrix said as she thought of a proper excuse. "Well, don't forget that I am bound by law, and the law favours mudbloods. Pettigrew's death was obviously an accident. I could have thrown the book at her, but the charges would never have stuck. I didn't bother to push for a conviction because I didn't want to waste my time and that of the court. Trust me, I would have loved to make that mudblood girl pay for what she did. But as it stands, the rehab was her punishment. Have you ever seen Insoma-addiction withdrawal? It's brutal and dehumanizing."

"Hah," Rodolphus smirked. "Fitting enough, I suppose. The law might favour the mudbloods now, Bella, but trust me. There is a change on the wind."

Immediately, Bellatrix's mind drifted back to the horrible memories of holding Hermione as the terrified and shivering girl was crying out in pain and fear. It was not a state where she wanted to be. Rodolphus was upon her, shifting so that he sat next to her. For Bellatrix this was too close for comfort. He reached over and rubbed her cheek with his thumb. The dark-haired witch was repulsed by his touch and fought the urge to throw an unforgivable right into his face. "Dear Bella," he whispered softly. "Would it really have been so awful to become my wife?"

Yes. Yes, it most definitely would have.

"I suppose not," she lied through her teeth.

Under the guise of buying a new cloak, Bellatrix had entered a nice boutique to get herself fitted. In the boutique, Nymphadora was posing as a middle-aged seamstress, giving the dark-haired witch a few cloaks to try out. Once in the back of the store, however, the two law enforcers got right to business; the portable pensieve was broken out to play back the recordings from the magical hairclip.

"This is fantastic!" said Nymphadora as she watched the images. "You've literally have him eating out of your hand!"

"That's not the word I would have used," Bellatrix replied bitterly.

"No, of course not, but this blatant breach of the international statute of Wizarding secrecy is solid evidence that the Purity Front is involved in very illegal business," said Nymphadora. "Damn. Pius was right to keep this operation under wraps. The Front has eyes and ears everywhere, it seems."

"Dora," Bellatrix started. "Hermione..."

Bellatrix was not someone who would ask for help easily; she'd always been self-reliant and headstrong. But she wasn't thinking of herself, but of her Hermione. She'd do everything to protect her, but the dark-haired witch couldn't be in two places at once. If Rodolphus would harm one hair on Hermione's head...

Nymphadora looked at her with sympathy. Bellatrix needn't make her fears more clear. "I know what you're going to ask. I'll have one of the aurors keep an eye on her from a distance. I can't tell anyone else about our mission here, but I'll cook up some story or other."

"Thank you," Bellatrix nodded.

"You have one foot into the inner circle," said Nymphadora. "Our mole tells us you've got both Lestrange and Dolohov singing your praises now. According to the mole, Dolohov was quite pleased with your work."

"Nice to know I'm appreciated," Bellatrix snorted. "I wonder if he'll still appreciate me when I'll be taking him in."

Nymphadora continued watching the recording. "sh*t," she exclaimed. "He wants the muggle-weapons? That's going to be difficult. Those are locked up tight in the secure section of the evidence room. We can't get our hands on those without being seen. Pius can't keep that hidden and we'll risk exposure."

"Hm," Bellatrix rubbed her chin. "Evidence in murder cases are also stored in the secure section of the evidence room. And detectives are cleared for entry."

"What are you implying?" Dora asked.

Bellatrix smirked slightly. An idea had already formed. "Leave that to me."

After explaining her plan to Nymphadora, Bellatrix was ready set it in motion. It was late in the afternoon, and most of the Ministry personnel had gone home, a perfect time to execute her plan. Bellatrix found her way to the evidence room, located on the ninth level of the Ministry, near the Department of Mysteries. The evidence room had a small entry hall with some seats where officers could wait while their orders were being retrieved. Beyond the entry hall, which was separated by an ornate gilded trellis, were rows and rows and rows of small drawers built into the wall, stretching as far as the eye could see. All evidence booked was shrunk, put in a metal box, tagged and slid into one of those drawers. The drawers contained evidence in cases as old as ten centuries.

As expected, there was nobody in at the moment, other than its caretaker; a plucky house-elf named Moffet was sitting behind his desk writing on papers with a quill.

"Evening, Moffet," Bellatrix greeted, causing the elf to look up.

"Good evening DCI Black," Moffet smiled and seemed happy to see her. "Is DCI Black working late? Is DCI Black doing well?"

"Something like that," Bellatrix shrugged. "I'm on loan to the auror office."

"Exciting!" said Moffet. "Has DCI Black done something to her hair? She looks much younger."

The dark witch snorted. "Yeah, people keep telling me that."

"Can Moffet be of service at all, DCI Black?"

Bellatrix leaned against the counter. "I'm looking for the evidence in the Montelban case. Some new facts have turned up and we might be able to re-open the investigation. I can get it myself if you're too busy."

"That is good news!" nodded Moffet. "Moffet will just need your requisition form."

"Certainly," Bellatrix said and pretended to feel around in her pockets. "Ah, bloody hell! I must have left it at the auror office. Well, I suppose I should go get it. I won't be a tiff."

Before Bellatrix could even turn around to walk to the door, Moffet grabbed her by the sleeve. "Moffet will get it for you! Just wait here, DCI Black."

"I don't want to be a bother, Moffet," Bellatrix replied.

"Is no bother! Moffet is happy to help!" Almost immediately, the elf apparated away to the auror office. The dark-haired witch grinned; everything was going exactly to plan. Moffet would go up to the auror office to get the form she purposely left there. Before the elf could get it, Nymphadora would be there to strike up a conversation. Moffet could never resist small talk, giving Bellatrix enough time to spring to action.

The evidence room being the size that it was, was exempt from the anti-apparation charm which encompassed the rest of the Ministry. This was more for convenience than any other reason. Beforehand, Bellatrix had quietly looked up the case numbers for both the Montelban case, which had gone cold about ten years ago, and the case involving the enchanted weapons. She took out her wand and apparated into the evidence room; the magic brought her standing right in front of the right drawer. Two more apparates and Bellatrix had switched the labels of the two evidence drawers. A fourth apparate and Bellatrix found herself standing back in the waiting area. Being quite pleased with herself, she sat down in one of the chairs and picked up a two year old copy of Witch Weekly to leaf through. Finding the magazine as vapid as ever, Bellatrix counted the seconds until the elf would return. Moffet came back about five minutes later, form in hand.

"Moffet is terribly sorry, DCI Black!" the elf whined pathetically. "Auror Tonks wanted to talk and... oh, let me just get your evidence. DCI Black has been waiting long enough!"

Before Bellatrix could even get up, Moffet returned with a metal box containing what the records would say was the evidence in the Montelban case. In reality, however, she had just stolen the enchanted weapons right from under the DMLE's nose without anyone being the wiser. In fact, it was rather disturbing just how easy it had been and Bellatrix promised herself she would alert the higher-ups to this potential security threat when her mission would be over.

For now, however, her gambit had been most successful.

With evening falling and a thunderstorm on the horizon, Bellatrix and Hermione stood in the field right behind their cottage. Their home was far away from other houses for them to practice magic without being spotted, and the thunderstorm would mask any sounds or flashes.

Spells were slung back and fro as the two lovers duelled. Bellatrix tried to practice with Hermione to improve her duelling skills as often as she could and, in light of recent developments, was all the more eager for the young witch get better at defending herself. However, Bellatrix was less than impressed. Hermione was clever and very intelligent when it came to finding solutions, analyzing magic or studying potions, but she wasn't as good at thinking on her feet. This was painfully obvious during their duel. Oh, Hermione certainly did her best, but she didn't chain her spells well and made oh so many mistakes. Bellatrix wasn't even near casting at her best to give the girl a break, and still Hermione was struggling to stay in the fight. Magic flashed as Bellatrix deftly blocked every attack, every attempt as disarm, all the while blasting through Hermione's defenses with consummate ease.

"Petrificus Totallus!" sounded from Hermione. Being way ahead of her, Bellatrix literally plucked the spell out of the air with her wand and tossed it to the ground where it harmlessly dissipated into the ground. Hermione had used a slow moving spell with a long vocal component and a very recognisable wand gesture. There was a reason why this particular spell was never used in the duelling circles. She'd seen it coming the moment the first syllable had come from Hermione's mouth. Sloppy. Very sloppy indeed.

It was then that Hermione did something that Bellatrix hadn't anticipated. The young witch fired off three stupify's in rapid succession, all easily blocked by Bellatrix. One of the stupifies actually broke through her barrier, but disappointingly enough Hermione didn't follow it up with an attack to exploit it. Instead, the young witch bolted away from the duelling site and ran towards a small toolshed near the kitchen door.

The young witch reached the shed and ducked behind it. At first, Bellatrix expected her to fire spells at her from cover, which wasn't a bad idea in itself. That apparently wasn't her plan, however, and Hermione emerged from behind the shed, seeming going for the low stone wall that surrounded their garden. But for what reason? Surely, there was more than enough cover from the side of the shed.

Time to end this.

Bellatrix exploded in a billow of arid black smoke and shot up into the air. From her perspective, time slowed down considerably when she shot to one side to head Hermione off. As she passed her closely, the dark-haired witch took a moment to admire Hermione's physique while she ran. She had time, after all, and Hermione looked absolutely delectable in her tight pink hoodie.

The dark-haired witch vaingloriously rematerialized right in front of Hermione, ready to catch her on the run. "Gotcha, pet!" she shouted out and made a move to grab her... only to have Hermione run right through her.

Naturally, Bellatrix was confused for a moment. And too late she realized what had happened.

Illusion!

Before she could even look for Hermione, bright lights exploded all around her, along with a horrible cacophony of sounds. Blinded and deafened, the dark-haired witch tried to get her bearings, but quickly got the wind knocked out of her by a spell coming from somewhere near the shed and found herself lying on her back, groaning softly. When her vision returned, she saw Hermione standing over her, wand in hand and a smug grin on her beautiful face.

Cover girl. Her pet had known she could never defeat her in a straight up fight, so Hermione had decided to try to outfox her.

"Got you," Hermione smiled triumphantly while above her, the darkened clouds were gathering fast. Quite a sight to behold.

But Bellatrix was far from defeated. "Two things, pet," she cooed.

"And what might those be?" Hermione smirked.

"One," Bellatrix started and kicked her legs to one side, catching Hermione at the back of the knees. The young witch yelped and landed right on top of Bellatrix, whom immediately rolled her on her back and pressed her arm against her neck, gently but firmly. "We are all trained in hand-to-hand combat during our constable days. And two..." she said as she pressed her wand against her forehead, "you never took my wand from me."

Hermione sighed in defeat. "No fair. I almost had you."

"Almost isn't good enough! Everything's fair when someone is trying to kill you, pet," Bellatrix spoke with a dead serious tone. "Remember that."

"I have to think of a new strategy to take you down," Hermione grinned.

"I look forward to your next attempt. But what shall I do with you now, hm?" Bellatrix grinned wickedly while she kept the young witch pinned to the ground. "I think I shall claim the spoils of my victory."

Bellatrix' lips latched firmly yet gently to the nape of Hermione neck while she slowly slid one hand up the hem of her shirt. The skin of Hermione's belly was soft as silk; Bellatrix playfully ran the tips of her fingers around Hermione's belly button.

"Belle," Hermione breathed.

The heavens chose that moment to break and loosen their watery cargo upon the earth. Rain started pouring down upon them, causing Bellatrix to groan in frustration. "The universe is conspiring against me," she sighed.

"Let's go inside," Hermione whispered. The tone of her voice unmistakably conveyed that she wanted to finish what Bellatrix had started. The two of them laughed together as they hurried through the curtain of rain to reach their cottage and warm themselves by the fire. They entered though the kitchen door and made their way to the living room, planning to shed their wet clothes and warm themselves... and each other, in front of the fire. They were already lip-locked when Bellatrix lay her down on the soft rug before the warm and cozy fireplace. Tongues wrestled for dominance while surprisingly strong arms pulled the dark-haired witch down upon her beloved Hermione.

Unfortunately, there was someone in the living room waiting for them.

"A-auntie?" said a blinking and embarrassed Draco, looking even paler than usual.

"Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed in a mixture of intense anger and acute embarrassment. Mortified, Hermione ripped her hoodie back down to hide as much exposed flesh as quickly as possible. Bellatrix, in the meantime, was simply amused by this whole turn of events.

A few minutes later, both women had exchanged their wet clothes for dry ones upstairs and sat on the couch while Draco sat opposite of them in a lazy chair. Hermione wore a grey hoodie with matching grey jogging trousers and sat with her legs curled up on the couch, staring daggers in Draco's general direction.

"Nice cottage," Draco said, trying to make awkward small talk.

Hermione would have none of it. "What do you want, Malfoy? Out with it!"

"I just wanted to ask my aunt for advice," said Draco. "I'll be out of your bushy hair soon enough, Granger."

"Alright," Bellatrix sighed. "Ask."

Draco shifted uncomfortably. "Does... Does Granger have to be here?"

Next to her, she could already feel Hermione shifting her weight. With the speed of lightning, Bellatrix grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her back onto the couch before she could descend upon Draco. Draco, for his part, seemed oblivious to the threat of violence he had just provoked. In fact, the poor lad seemed rather sullen and embarrassed on the whole.

"Draco, sweetie," Bellatrix spoke softly, but firm. "Hermione lives here." The dark-haired witch shot Hermione a look and saw that the young witch was now even more infuriated.

"Yes," said Hermione with a rather smug edge on her voice. "You are sitting inmyhouse. Inmyliving room. Onmychair. Drinkingmytea. Frommycup."

Bellatrix could barely suppress a snort. Hermione had crossed her arms, raised her chin slightly and generally stared down Draco with a petulant, smug expression on her face. The only thing missing was Hermione sticking out her tongue and blowing a raspberry. Bellatrix shook her head; Hermione couldn't stop being cute even if she tried.

"Oh,youcan wipe that grin off your face!" Hermione narrowed her eyes at her before starting to stare daggers at Draco once again.

Certainly no love was lost between the two of them. Bellatrix really wanted the two of them to get along, but she realized she had her work cut out for her.

"What's on your mind, Draco?" Bellatrix asked.

"Auntie," started Draco. "You're a woman, right?"

The dark witch snorted. "I was the last time I looked."

"No, I mean, you're a woman who likes women and who's in love with a woman," said Draco. "You've got... three times perspective."

"Ah," Bellatrix smiled as it dawned onto her why Draco was here. "You've finally gathered up the courage to chat up Pansy Parkinson, haven't you?"

Draco didn't look her in the eye, but just nodded almost imperceptibly. The poor lad was having a lot of trouble baring himself, especially in front of Hermione.

"Sweetie," said Bellatrix. "I'm not the best person to ask about dating advice. I never dated much before because of my busy work and Hermione happened by accident."

"But you're a woman, you must know what girls like," Draco pressed. " I can't ask my father and I'd just embarrass mother."

Bellatrix shrugged. "Trust me, lad, even women don't know what women like. I'm not sure what to tell you. Just... be yourself, I think."

At that moment, Hermione burst into laughter. "This isMalfoywe're talking about, Belle. That might not be the best advice to give."

"This is serious, Granger!" Draco snapped, but then shook his head.

"Pansy's a pretty girl, but…"

"You stay away from Pansy!" Draco was suddenly on the defensive. "I've never known you were into girls, Granger, but I'm getting enough competition from blokes as it is. Besides, you can't cheat on aunt Bellatrix! That's pretty low, Granger! Even for you!"

Bellatrix laughed when she saw a stunned Hermione's mouth open and close like a fish on dry land. It earned her a slug against the shoulder. "I'm not interested in Pansy, you ferret-faced git!"

"It's okay to look, pet," Bellatrix joked.

"Don't you start!" Hermione said, directing her ire at Bellatrix for a brief moment before focusing on Draco again. It only served to amuse Bellatrix more. "Pansy might be a pretty girl, but she has a personality like a car-crash!"

"You take that back!" Draco spat angrily. "Pansy is anice girl! You just don't know her like I do!"

Bellatrix had had enough of the bickering. "Alright, calm down, you two," she glared at both of them.

"Time is running out!" Draco snapped. "Father has been talking to the Greengrass family. He's been dropping hints about Daphne's little sister Astoria. But I don't want to marry Astoria! I don't even know her! I just can't marry Astoria..."

Hermione's expression softened considerably. Bellatrix knew that Hermione had always considered the arranged marriages in pure-blood circles to be abhorrent and wouldn't wish them on anyone, not even someone she considered to be an old enemy. "Because she's not Pansy..." Hermione spoke softly.

"I've loved Pans all my life," Draco sighed heavily. "Ever since we first met when we were toddlers. We were always friends, but I never had the courage to turn it into something romantic. I've seen her date a parade of losers, all of which broke her heart in one way or another. All the time I was so jealous; they had her, even though they didn't deserve her. And tomorrow we'll have our first romantic date... I'm just terrified that I'm going to mess it up."

Bellatrix nodded. The poor lad; faced with the prospect of being forced to marry someone he didn't even know while the girl he loved was within reach. No wonder he was so terrified. Before Bellatrix could say anything, it was Hermione who spoke up. Gone was all the tension from before; her voice was full of sympathy for him. "Draco, why don't you just tell Pansy how you feel about her? I might not have particularly liked her when we were students at Hogwarts, but she's notthatdense."

Draco looked at the floor while he nodded. "You make it sound so simple."

"Sometimes it is," Hermione spoke. "Look, Malfoy. You two must have spent time together plenty of times."

"Of course, we've always been best friends."

"Then just treat it like any other time you were together and let it run its course, see how it goes from there. She always knows you, so there'll be none of that getting to know the other person awkwardness," said Hermione. "Just be honest. Tell her how you feel."

"She's right," Bellatrix said. "I think you'll be fine, sweetie."

Draco seemed to be somewhat relaxed. "I suppose so. Well, wish me luck."

"Oh, Draco?" Bellatrix asked and reached for the scroll lying on the coffee table. "Would you like to sign hermione's petition?"

A silent scream of denial caught in Hermione's throat when Bellatrix handed the scroll to Draco. As Draco unfolded it, the young witch looked as if her precious petition would burst into flame merely from being held by her nemesis. The boy read the scroll and nodded. "Seems like a good cause," he said and swiftly signed it before handing it back to Hermione. Hermione blinked once, twice, while Draco held it out for her to grab. "Uhm, uhm, thank you," she spoke softly and quickly took it.

Happy with the advice, Draco left through the fireplace, leaving Hermione and Bellatrix sitting on the couch while the rain violently slashed against the windowpanes. "Malfoy killed my mood," Hermione spoke apologetically while she lay on her side and parked her head in Bellatrix's lap.

Bellatrix was only too happy to stroke Hermione's silky soft brown hair. "It's alright," she replied as lightning could be heard outside. A quiet night inside sounded quite nice right about now. No Rodolphus, no undercover work, no Purity Front. Just herself, Hermione, this very nice cottage... and a very wet and annoyed Crookshanks whom had just entered through the catflap.

"Belle?"

"Hm."

"That spell you used outside," spoke Hermione with a serious edge on her voice while Bellatrix continued stroking her hair. "That's a dark art, isn't it?"

"Fumum Transfiguro?" Bellatrix frowned. "Yes, I suppose it is. It's great for getting out of tight spots, though. It's a variant of apparation. Makes you move faster but not fast enough to trigger anti-apparation charms. And then there's a limited flight aspect."

Hermione shifted so lay on her back, still comfortably settled with her head in Bellatrix's lap. The young girl looked up at her to look her in the eye. She seemed interested, but wary. "But it'sstilla Dark Art."

Bellatrix couldn't help but smile. Silly Hermione, so young that she still viewed the world in black and white. And such a stickler for the rules. "Pet, magic in itself isn't inherently good or evil. It's how you use it. My father taught this spell to all three of us and it got me out of more than one scrape. I'll teach it to you if you like. You'll see it's a useful and powerful spell."

"It's a Dark Art for a reason."

"It's only considered a dangerous spell because you can't breathe for the duration," Bellatrix replied. "A lot of wizards in the past mistimed the spell and ended up dead. It's perfectly safe if you know what you're doing."

Hermione pursed her lips. Her resolve was crumbling. "I'm not sure... dark magic?"

The dark witch chuckled. She knew just the thing to convince her Hermione to let her teach her the spell. "Tell you what. I tried to teach Draco how to do Fumum Transfiguro and he lacked the concentration to cast it, so he had to give up. Can you do better, pet?"

A slight laugh came from Hermione. "Ferret-face couldn't do it? Hah, Iinsistyou teach me that spell. And then I want to use the spell in front of him while he watches."

Bellatrix continued stroking Hermione's hair. "I knew you would, pet. I knew you would."

Chapter 6: Anchor

Chapter Text

The redeeming part of being on loan to the auror office for undercover work were the favourable hours. For the first time in years, hell decades even, she could sleep in late on a weekday. Unfortunately, a workaholic's body is wont to refuse sleep beyond six in the morning, so she had to while away an hour just holding a sleeping Hermione. Having breakfast together was another rare pleasure on weekdays.

Alas duty eventually did call and when arriving at the Ministry, she went into the auror office to review evidence, findings and decide on tactics with Dora. The current task at hand were the weapons she would be giving to Rodolphus later today. Those weapons had to be carefully marked so they could be tracked down in the event of them being shipped off before the mission ended. This had to be done in the deepest secret so that any moles the Purity Front had in the department wouldn't find out. Paranoid as she was, Dora didn't even want to risk doing this at the Dartford safehouse.

Nymphadora had the answer to this conundrum, however. After making sure Ted was out for work, the bright haired auror had taken the weapons to her parental home where she and Bellatrix carefully laid them out and marked them with a subtle tracking charm which would not be found unless Rodolphus would know what he'd be looking for. Of course, Nymphadora had also arranged for Andromeda to be meeting a family friend, mostly to avoid questions of a critical nature. Critically phrased questions such as: "Why are there dozens of assault rifles lying on my living room floor? Is that safe?"

Once the strange muggle contraptions had been marked, the weapons had been replaced in their crate which, in turn, was magically shrunk and replaced in the metal box. Some hours later, the crate with the weapons was once again enlarged as it had been put down in Rodolphus' den of inequity overlooking the festfall.

The dark-haired witch was increasingly disgusted by this man. Lestrange all but salivated as he opened up the crate and inspected the muggle contraptions inside.

"Oh, Bella, you marvellous, marvellous woman!" he raved. "How did you pull this off? I must know."

Considering she was quite proud of her solution to get the weapons out of the DMLE unseen, Bellatrix felt she had a right to brag. "It was really quite ingenious if I do say so myself. I went to the evidence room to fetch evidence related to a case which had gone cold under the pretense that I was going to see about potentially reopening it," Bellatrix said as she sat down on the velvet sofa and sipped her wine. "I tricked the pathetic elf in charge into leaving and then switched the labels on the evidence boxes. When the elf returned, I checked out the mislabelled box with the weapons inside of it. Tomorrow I will recheck the box, trick the elf again and replace the labels. None will ever be the wiser."

Rodolphus first smirked, then laughed in merriment. "Oh, well done, Bella, well done. You are as clever and devious as ever!"

He had no idea just how devious. Bellatrix had made Dora promise that she could be the one to arrest Rodolphus once this charade just to see the look on his disgusting face.

Meanwhile, Rodolphus grabbed hold of one of the weapons in an awkward manner. "Hm, these Muggle weapons are so strange," said Rodolphus. "How do you even hold this thing?"

The corners of Bellatrix's mouth just raised ever so slightly. "My supervisor explained their workings to me. To be honest, I wasn't paying much attention, but I believe you put that thin tube with the hole in it against your forehead."

Rodolphus did so, looking rather awkward and comical while pressing the barrel against his forehead while holding the weapon in front of him. "Like this?" he asked.

"Looks right," Bellatrix allowed the slightest wicked grin, trying to sound as neutral as possible.

"Rather odd and uncomfortable, this," Rodolphus said. "How do I make it work?"

Bellatrix leaned forward, her voice icy and eager. "See that little metal latch underneath? I think you need to pull it."

"Like this?" Rodolphus said and pressed against the trigger. The only sound the weapon made was an audible click. "Hm, was that supposed to happen?"

The dark witch was quite disappointed that the weapon hadn't gone off, but then again she should have known better than to trust in rather unreliable muggle technology. Still, the thought of Rodolphus 'accidentally' doing himself in with a muggle weapon had been quite pleasant, and she would have no doubt found a way to explain it to the inner circle. Sure, it would definitely have been detrimental to her mission, but at least it would have been funny. Alas, it was not to be.

"Ah, no matter," said Rodolphus. "The weapons are in hand, and your rightful place among the inner circle is assured. Bella, you and I will be going far within the Purity Front."

Bellatrix leant back on the couch, noticing that Rodolphus' gaze was firmly locked onto her cleavage. "You and I?" Bellatrix co*cked her head sideways.

"Of course!" said Rodolphus. "Have I been too subtle with my hints? I would be most interested to rekindle what we once had."

Bellatrix bit her tongue; she was so close to her breaking point that she lost it. Fighting the urge to grab hold of a nearest bottle, smashing it over the table and ramming the sharp glass into his face again and again and again. "You mean spreading those rumorus about what you would do to me on our wedding night," she spoke with an icy edge on her voice. Oh, no, she would not let him forget about that, though she supposed she should be thankful for it in a way; her loathing for him and his attitude greatly helped her to decide to claim her own freedom.

Rodolphus shook his head. "The mistake of a foolish teenager, who's been beating himself over the head because of it ever since. My dear lady, I am hoping what I am about to tell you, will cause you to forgive my foolishness. I, well, I have a confession to make."

Confession. That got her attention; being in the line of work that she was, the very mention of the word alone worked like a red cloth to a bull.

"Oh?" Bellatrix left herself shifting somewhat on the sofa, being all ears. "And what would that confession be?"

"After your, ahum, exile from house Black, you started to associate with a half-blood foreign girl," Rodolphus shrugged. "Austrian, I believe."

Katie. It was going to be about Katie. "Australian," Bellatrix corrected with barely contained fury. "She was an Australian."

"Ah, yes," said Rodolphus and, judging from his expression, he wasn't really caring either which way. "What was her name again, Cathy? Katty? Caroline?"

"Katie," Bellatrix whispered, trying to fight back the outburst which was bubbling to the surface. "Her name was Katie."

Rodolphus snorted. "Who cares what her name was? She was a useless bint with a deplorable blood status. You see, I arranged her death."

Bellatrix closed her eyes. Of course, she had known it all along, but had never been able to prove it. The dark-haired witch fought to remain calm, to think clearly, even though every fibre of her being wanted to take out her wand and tear this man in front of her to shreds. "I... see," she replied.

"Bella, you have to understand," Rodolphus leaned forward and grinned at her. That some awful grin he had shot at her so long ago when she had been devastated to learn about her friend's death. "I was hoping you would still change your mind, come back to your family and replan our wedding. Associating with a poor half-blood girl who worked as a waitress in a tavern? She was a co*ckroach compared to your grandeur. Filth. I saved you from yourself, Bella. I was protecting your pure-blood status. Surely you can see that now."

Bellatrix felt the urge to throw up; Rodolphus' poisonous words were sickening. Katie was her friend, her first true friend. The only person until Hermione whom had gotten her to crawl out of her shell. Katie had never cared about her family's influence or money; she'd always been honest to her. The dark-haired witch had had plenty of willing bedwarmers for a plethora of reasons over the years; she would only have to snap her fingers and girls would drop at her feet. But after her exile, it wasn't a bedwarmer she needed most but an honest to goodness friend. Someone who listened to her, comforted her, let her cry on her shoulder... Katie had filled that role.

It was obvious that Lestrange was lying. He was lying through his teeth; it had never been about 'saving her from herself'. It had never been never about ensuring her 'pure-blood status'. For years she had thought that he had killed Katie to spite her, to hurt her, to pay her back for rejecting him. But this wasn't true either. Bellatrix had never made it a secret that she preferred the company of women and, well, entertained often. At the time, Lestrange had still held hopes that Bellatrix would come back to her family and accept the marriage. He had mistaken Katie for a lover and, in true Slytherin fashion, had made a move to eliminate the competition. And now he had the audacity to make excuses just because he wanted to get inside her knickers.

He was disgusting, utterly loathsome. When the dark witch came to her senses, she found herself grasping the side of a sofa while fingering her wand with the other hand. Lestrange had a rather worried expression on his face, apparently wondering if he had made a faux-pas.

It took every single ounce of her considerable willpower to keep to her role, to her mission. Besides, her magical butterfly hairclip had recorded everything; she had a confession. Enough to try to get the case reopened. "How did you do it?" she asked, her voice in a low tone. "Did you..."

"No, no," he was quick to shake his head. "I hired someone. A lowlife in need of some quick money."

"I see," Bellatrix responded. Of course, he hadn't wanted to dirty his own hands, coward that he was. Behind her back, Bellatrix dug her nails into her palm, hard enough to draw blood. "I'm glad you rid me of her," Bellatrix said, fighting off the self-loathing. "She would have polluted my soul, poisoned my mind. I was confused at the time; you saved me from making a big mistake. For that, I should thank you," she lied, hating herself for even saying it.

Lestrange was not only relieved, but ecstatic. He bore the expression of a man whom had just learned he had gotten away with murder.

Immediately, Rodolphus was upon her, sliding over to the other couch and next to her. Bellatrix felt her skin crawled as he leaned forward and wrapped an arm around her waist. The overpowering smell of his cologne made her gag as he pressed down upon her, co*cking his head sideways.

The dark-haired witch wanted to wretch when she realized just what Rodolphus was about to do. But she had to do it, for the sake of the mission. For the sake of arresting him later. For the sake of justice for Katie.

Their lips touched. Hard, unrelenting. His tongue intruded into her mouth, causing her to shudder when his tongue touched hers. His hand slid along her side with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer to the face, until it rested on one of her breasts.

This 'kiss', if one could even call it that, was so very different from what she was used to. A kiss from Hermione was gentle, and loving. It was a gesture of love that Hermione wanted to share with her; soft, wonderful, overwhelming. A kiss from Rodolphus was all about him. Possessive, distant. He wanted to own her, mind, body and soul. This personal hell lasted about half a minute. Rodolphus broke the kiss and grasped Bellatrix's grin. He still looked upon her with lustful eyes. Thankfully, he hadn't noticed her disgust and loathing for him. But then again, he never truly really cared what Bellatrix thought and felt.

"Soon, I shall introduce you to the inner circle," said he. "But... you would do this humble man a great honour, if you would allow him to spend the night with you, lying in your arms. You are so beautiful, Bella. Strong, intelligent. I should never have let you slip through my fingers."

Acute revulsion came at the idea of him grunting on top of her... debauching her. He had been quite explicit about his fantasies so many years ago and she had no reason to believe any of that had changed. Bellatrix just couldn't take it anymore. She had to get out of there.

Thankfully, however, she was level-headed enough to still stay in persona. "Fresh," Bellatrix offered a sultry smile. "But a lady doesn't give up her virtues as easily as that. Come now, Rodolphus, enjoy the chase a little longer. It will make the eventual catch all the more worthwhile."

"Ooooh," Rodolphus groaned with a grin on his face. "You raven-haired vixen! Very well, you enjoy your little game, for now. This man can be patient, within limits."

"Until next time, then," said Bellatrix as she turned to leave. She couldn't get out of there fast enough.

The auror safehouse in Dartford was a sparsely furnished and poorly heated detached house at the end of a road with windows too small to let in much daylight. It was reasonably out of the way of wizardkind, as Dartford had no wizarding residents, and the town itself was dreary enough to ease suspicions. The entire building had been enchantment to give the appearance to be abandoned and condemned to keep any prying Muggle eyes out. Fortunately, the same spell kept the massive shouting match going on within its walls hidden as well.

"You kissed him?! You kissed Rodolphus Lestrange!" Dora shouted in Bellatrix's face as they were standing in a rarely used auror safehouse in Dartford, far away from the Ministry office. Meanwhile, Bellatrix took another swig of the bottle of mouthwash, only to be dismayed that she had gone through the entire bottle already. She turned away from Dora and stepped over to the sink. After letting the liquid slosh about in her mouth for a bit, she expunged it into the sink and followed it up with a drink of water.

"I told you, it was to protect my cover," Bellatrix hissed after turning back to Dora, not taking kindly to being admonished by someone who was half her age and was not named Hermione. "Do you think I enjoyed it? That I let him touch me for the fun of it?! I have a beautiful girl back home! Yet, I had to kiss someone else and the thought of that makes me sick to my stomach!"

"That's just it," Nymphadora retorted. "You're getting too involved, to the point that you're starting to lose yourself. I've seen this happen time and again with undercover missions. I'm putting a halt to this mission until we've had a full evaluation. You're not going back to the lodge until that, do I make myself clear."

Incredulous, Bellatrix shook her head. "You can't do that!"

"But I can!" Nymphadora retorted. "Just how far are you willing to go to get inside the inner circle, hm? If it starts with a kiss..."

The implication was clear and Dora never had the chance to finish her sentence. The auror yelped as she was shoved against the wall and found herself staring at the business-end of Bellatrix's wand pressing painfully into her cheek. Silence fell as all that could be heard was the rain slashing on the glass panes of the window and Bellatrix's ragged breath. "Look at yourself," Nymphadora hissed and motioned to a large standing mirror. Bellatrix turned her head, and saw herself threatening her beloved sister's child, a child she had once held in her arms and bounced on her knee. The dark-haired witch sighed and withdrew her wand, letting Nymphadora go and nodding a silent apology to her niece.

"I... I shouldn't have said that," Nymphadora replied as she adjusted her clothes. "But the point is made."

Bellatrix watched Nymphadora step over to the small ratty old sofa in the living room and plop down. "sh*t, this is a mess," Dora whispered.

"Now tell me," Bellatrix hissed while continuing to pace through the room. "Why the overreaction to me kissing him? Don't tell me that's normal. What was that about? And don't give me any bollocks about 'evaluations'."

Dora looked away. "Pius, he, well… he asked me to keep an eye on your for signs of… wavering."

"Wavering?"

"Wavering loyalties," Dora said carefully.

It took a moment to realize just what Dora was saying to her. "Oh, for f*ck's sake!" Bellatrix shrieked. She was angry. She was insulted. She needed an outlet. A wooden chair found itself being tossed across the room, only shatter into pieces once it met the wall. After letting out another anguished shriek, Bellatrix turned to Nymphadora again. The plucky auror was stony-faced this time, lacking her usual wise-cracks and bravado completely.

"Do you honestly think I will betray the Department?!" Bellatrix hissed, her face inches away from Dora. "What was all that bollocks about my loyalty not being in question?! If you don't trust me, they why send me in the first place?"

"You have to understand," Dora spoke softly. "It is very much possible for an infiltrator to develop sympathy for the cause or the people they are assigned to infiltrate. It happens quite a lot, actually, even to the best trained aurors we have. That's why Pius asked me to keep a close watch. For you personally as well as for the mission. A kiss could easily be construed as..."

"Do you… does he… honestly think I will develop sympathies for… Rodolphus Lestrange?!"

"No," Dora spoke uncomfortably. "But for their cause, that's a different cup of tea. Come on, auntie, look at it from our point of view; you grew up in their way of thinking, their climate. Being around them might rekindle… old thoughts. Old beliefs."

Bellatrix couldn't believe what she was hearing. She couldn't believe that her loyalty, something she considered to be her. "This is… insulting! Disgraceful! I gave nearly thirty years of my life to the Department! How dare you question my loyalty? HOW! DARE! YOU!"

"Auntie," Dora sighed heavily. "Haven't you been listening? Developing sympathies happens to the best of us. That's why every auror has a field handler. We're talking about well-trained aurors who have done this for years. In contrast, you have no experience or formal training at infiltration. Don't you see why we would we worried?"

"If you pull me out, you'll lose your chance to get access to the inner circle," said Bellatrix. "I amsoclose to getting inside, Dora! I can give you Lestrange's head on a silver platter! You saw the recordings in the pensieve! It's a confession, pure and simple. There's no stature of limitation on murder! I can finally give Katie's family the justice they deserve!"

"This is exactly what I'm talking about!" Nymphadora bristled once more. "This is not about your murdered friend or even about Lestrange! This has always been about infiltrating the Purity Front to find evidence of sedition! Remember why you're there! Come on, auntie, you're a better plod than this. What's happening to you?"

Bellatrix sighed heavily and sat down next to her niece on the old ratty sofa. She sighed, rubbed her temples and looked Nymphadora in the eye. "Rodolphus Lestrange is happening to me," Bellatrix grunted. "He's... getting to me. Have you ever hated someone so much that you wanted him dead? He made me betray Hermione, Dora..."

"Just don't lose sight of yourself and keep your focus on the mission. Purity Front... evidence of sedition," Nymphadora said. "The sooner you get that evidence, the sooner you can put all this madness behind you."

"I'm not made for undercover work, Dora," said Bellatrix. "I much prefer a corpse and someone to tear apart in an interrogation. Much... simpler."

"You hold on to what you know and what you have," Nymphadora replied. "Think about the things that matter to you to keep sane. Let Hermione be your anchor. Whenever you feel even the slightest bit of doubt, just think of her."

"Yes," Bellatrix nodded. "I think I know what you mean."

"Promise me you want take any more risks like that," Nymphadora said. "One more slip-up and Iwillpull you out."

Bellatix was a woman with a mission as she emerged from the fireplace and immediately rushed to find Hermione sitting on the couch with a book, relaxing after a long day at work. The young witch wore a simple pair of slacks and a flannel shirt with buttons in the front.

Good.

Easy and quick access to the goods.

Before Hermione even got the chance to say hello to her, Bellatrix grabbed her by the shoulders and pressed her lips against hers. After a moment of surprise, Hermione started kissing her back. Two loving arms snaked around her waist. Already, all thoughts of Rodolphus' pawings melted as snow in the sun.

"I need you," Bellatrix whispered between kisses.

"Belle," Hermione chuckled briefly. "What's gotten into you?"

"Sssssh," Bellatrix put a finger to her lover's lips. "No talk. Upstairs."

Without question, Hermione followed Bellatrix upstairs to their bedroom. The dark witch practically threw her on the bed and dove on top of the giggling girl; one by one, Bellatrix unbuttoned Hermione shirt with all the patience of a five-year old unwrapping her presents on Christmas Day. Creamy white skin was mercifully revealed, as was a black bra. After taking a moment to rake her fingers over Hermione's trembling stomach, Bellatrix decided that that bra just had to go.

Meanwhile, Hermione did some undressing of her own. The young witch deftly undid the fastenings of her dress. It slid off her shoulders and, with a slight push, the fabric ended up bunched her around her waist. Bellatrix snaked her arms free, and let out a lustful groan when she felt Hermione's soft hands gently massaging her breasts. A wicked grin crossed her features when she felt Hermione's legs wrap around her waist and pulled her closer to her.

"Drive me sane, pet," Bellatrix husked. "I need you to drive me sane."

Bellatrix almost ripped Hermione's trousers right off her legs. Dark curls spilled over Hermione's body, and she felt the girl tremble beneath her. Her soft hands ran over Hermione's body while she led a trail of kisses from the nape of her neck to her shoulders and beyond. The tip of her tongue found her girl's nipple, causing her to whimper slightly when the dark-haired witch playfully teased her by tracing circles along her sensitive flesh.

They melded together, Bellatrix slipping her leg between Hermione's parted thighs and found a steady rhythm as she pressed against her sex, the fabric of the dress adding extra friction. Bellatrix kissed Hermione hungrily, swallowing any cries of pleasure. With one hand, she massaged Hermione's breast, feeling her heart pounding wildly beneath her fingertips.

Release came quickly and violently, causing Hermione to shudder with pleasure to a point of inadvertently biting down on Bellatrix's lower lip. The young witch lay panting for a while, but soon enough sprang to action. After shooting her a wicked grin, she flipped the older witch to her back and moved to sit on her stomach, straddling her. Bellatrix smirked at her. Hermione was taking charge; how she loved whenever this happened!

The first thing Hermione did was to fully get rid of the dress, wasting no time to drape herself over Bellatrix. Eager hands slide over her chest before Hermione buried her face in the between Bellatrix's neck and shoulder, causing the dark witch to shudder as her silky brown hair tickled her skin. More kisses followed, wilder, almost savage. Their tongues rolled around each other, fighting for dominance. The battle was a stalemate until Hermione broke the kiss and renewed her assault. Soft lips traced a path from her chin to her neck to the valley between Bellatrix's breasts. She shuddered when she felt Hermione's hardened nipples slide down with every move until the young witch found her destination.

Silky soft brown hair spread over her lower belly and her inner thighs. The dark witch arched her back, moaning with pleasure as her beautiful Hermione started the most sweet of assaults. Hermione was always eager to show off what she had learned in everything she did. No longer the virgin she had met two years ago, she knew exactly how to use that wonderfully agile tongue of hers to please a woman.

Declarations of love among sighs, groans and hissing through clenched teeth followed. Hermione was relentless, wielding her soft tongue as a deadly weapon. Bellatrix felt her heart pounding in her chest like a hammer while there was a slow, warm build-up deep inside her lower belly. Suddenly, Hermione was next to her, her nimbly crooking fingers finishing what her tongue had started.

"Come for me, Belle," The sultry whisper alone was enough to almost push her over the edge, let alone the gentle sweep of warm breath brushing against her ear. "Come for me."

Merlin, she'd created a monster.

Her stomach muscles started to tighten while her entire body started to tingle. Release came with a hoarse crying out of Hermione's name.

Hermione lay on top of her, her beautiful face at a hair's breadth away from her own. Bellatrix felt her hot laboured breath brushed past her skin as she tried to regain her composure. "Mine," Hermione husked.

A smile crossed Bellatrix's features. "Yours," she whispered while wrapping her arms around the girl and gently flipped her to her back, laying on her side next to her. "Forever yours."

Both lovers lay breathing heavily, both their bodies and the duvet slicked with sweat from the exertion. They simply held each other. Still trembling, Bellatrix felt Hermione's soft skin upon hers once more. Slow caresses followed, as did kisses. Hmm, Bellatrix always loved it when Hermione ran her fingernails down the length of her spine. Their legs lay entangled when the dark witch kissed the nape of the young witch's neck, something Hermione always enjoyed. More often enough, these gentle displays of affection invariably let to more sex.

"I want to make love again," Hermione whispered. Indeed, that had been predictable.

Bellatrix closed her eyes. Damn that bastard; she had to tell her. Her loyalty to her demanded it, even though she feared the outcome.

"Belle?" Hermione asked when Bellatrix started to roll away from her, laying on her side with her back turned towards the young witch. "Belle, what's wrong?"

"Hermione. I betrayed you," said Bellatrix. "I kissed someone else."

The moment she had said it, she wished she hadn't. Old insecurities came bubbling to the surface, along with the terrible, terrible fear of losing Hermione. Oh, if Rodolphus had cost her Hermione, he'd be horribly murdered. She promised herself that.

"What?" sounded Hermione. Bellatrix could hear the confusion in her voice.

"I had to kiss a man I despise to protect my cover," added Bellatrix. "I loathed every moment of it, but it was necessary. I'm sorry, Hermione..."

Suddenly, she felt an arm snake around her midriff and soft lips on her shoulder, moving up to her neck. "Sweet, sweet silly Belle," Hermione whispered in her ear. "Kissing someone for your job while being disgusted by it doesn't count as cheating."

Bellatrix grumbled slightly. "I still kissed him... I thought you should know."

"Belle," Hermione said softly. "You're not half as tough and cynical as you claim to be."

Bellatrix remained silent for a moment, curling herself up somewhat underneath the duvet. "Am too," was her lame reply, spoken in a rather pouty fashion.

"In fact," Hermione continued. "You have a very gentle and sensitive soul."

Bellatrix again remained silent. "Do not," she finally replied.

"Belle," Hermione whispered. "The very fact alone that you were so worried about what I would think is proof in itself."

Bellatrix carefully rolled around to face a smiling Hermione. "He didn't kiss like you, pet. He kissed like a camel. It was dreadful."

Humor shined in Hermione's eyes. "Oh? And how do you know what kissing a camel is like, hm? Have you been snogging any members of the Camelus genus lately? Don't lie to me, Belle. I saw

you making eyes at that dromedary in the children's zoo when we went to the farmer's mart last month. I know I shouldn't have dragged you out there with me."

Bellatrix felt a smirk cross her features as all the worries and doubt thankfully sank away. "Well," she started. "She had very enticing fur."

"Are you leaving me for that one-humped tramp?" Hermione spoke through faked sobs. "I thought you loved me."

"Sorry," Bellatrix shrugged. "That dromedary got me so rat-arsed I had no idea where I was until I woke up lying on the straw in her enclosure."

Hermione laughed briefly. "Oh, likely story. You're planning to elope and leave me high and dry with the mortgage bills while you play Lawrence of Arabia on the desert sands."

Bellatrix laughed in spite of herself. "Pet. I don't deserve you."

"False," Hermione stated unequivocally. "Belle, I've just realized we haven't had any dinner yet."

"And I've just noticed it's not even dark yet," Bellatrix said. "We simply disgraceful. Two randy succubi with nothing but sex on their minds."

Hermione propped herself up to look her Bellatrix in the eye. "No sex please, we're British?"

"Oh, bollocks to that," Bellatrix huffed. "Who came up with that stupid expression anyway, pet? It's probably some idiotic muggle who never gets any and wants everybody else to be just as miserable as he is."

"Hm," Hermione put her finger to the dark witch's lips. "How about we fix ourselves a quick bite to eat and then head right back to bed?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Chapter 7: Reflections

Chapter Text

Bellatrix never did like being idle. In her life, she had always found plenty tasks to complete. Reports to write, cases to review, forms to fill out or simply being out in the field being a detective. If one case was slow, there was always some other case demanding attention. Cases also really didn't end with the arrest of the suspect. There were court statements to prepare, testimonies to be given and, to ensure conviction, every detail needed to be meticulously logged, checked and double-checked.

However, now that she had been assigned this infiltration mission for the aurors, she found herself empty handed. The Purity Front lodge was closed for today, she had been completely debriefed and since Nymphadora wanted to keep a minimal paper trail to keep the mission from leaking, she took care of all the documentation. Every other case she had been working on had been taken over by Petunia, so she couldn't focus on an older case either.

Waking up with Hermione and lazying about in bed was a treat, as was the glorious morning sex which followed. Unfortunately, Hermione had to go to work, leaving Bellatrix wanting for more.

And now, Bellatrix stood in the living room.

She literally had nothing to do.

She couldn't go to the DMLE since she was supposed to be on 'special assignment' and away from the office. She couldn't go out to the pub because it was too early for the pubs to be open in the first place.

Breakfast!

Because of the glorious morning sex, neither herself or Hermione had gotten any breakfast. Happy with having something to do, she made her way to the muggle fridge. Really, wizarding fridges weren't so different from muggle fridges; one ran on magic, the other on electricity. She had no idea why Hermione had insisted on a muggle fridge, but at the moment she was more interested in the contents. It took her back to her days as a bachelorette, when she ate whatever happened to be in the fridge at the time. Today, she settled for a packet of co*cktail shrimp and a cadbury selection box from the larder for breakfast.

After pouring herself a glass of milk, she enjoyed her feast... and was once again left with nothing to do.

It was then she remembered that she had started reading a book a couple of months ago. In a move that even surprised her beloved Hermione, Bellatrix had started to read muggle books. However, Hermione had balked somewhat when she found out what kind of books they were; generally horrific and/or visceral literature. The muggle world had no shortage of downright vicious literature; she supposed it came with the violent nature the muggles possessed.

Currently, she was reading a book Jimmy had recommended. Normally, she'd take anything coming out of Jimmy's mouth with more than a few grains of salt, but in this case he had been right. 'It' was a book about an ancient evil in the guise of a demonic clown tormenting a group of children in an American town; she didn't even catch half of the references, due to her not being muggle nor an American, but the story more than made up for it. Of course, Hermione considered it to be monumental pulp. Her girlfriend had suggested she'd try something by Agatha Christie at some point.

Bellatrix found the book laying on the small table next to the sofa, covered in a thin layer of dust. She hadn't intended to just leave it out there, but finding quiet time for herself was still something that was relatively rare for her. Seeing it was a nice sunny day in early spring, she decided to take the book up to the bedroom balcony upstairs. Once there, she opened the french windows and unfolded a seat. The day was lovely and the air was warm, birds tweeted in the distance as they flew over fields and the trees in the distance. Rosewood cottage was in a nice and quiet area, such a lovely place to live. The dark-haired witch set down her book for a moment and reflected on the first time they'd set foot in this place.

It seemed so long ago now, but the house was still far from finished; most of the furniture was either from her old apartment, such as the sofa and their bed. Everything else needed had been bought from that horrible IKEA muggle store as a placeholder. Bellatrix's prediction of it being a money pit had been more than correct; moneyandeffort at that. Two working career women had scant time to spend on fixing up their home. Still, it was something to strive for, and her increase in salary was going to help a lot.

Finally, Bellatrix opened her book and immersed herself in the misadventures of the 'Losers' Club' as they fought for their lives and sanity when the creature caused the very town of Derry itself turn against them. In the real world, the sun continued its stride across the heavens without pause while Bellatrix read. After finishing a chapter, Bellatrix put down her book down and fetched a drink from the fridge. When she returned, she didn't immediately return to her book.

Instead, her thoughts drifted to Hermione. Or rather, what happened just about three months in their relationship.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Bellatrix asked when they stood in front of Hermione's parental home in Heathgate, London. Hermione had become increasingly anxious as this day approached. Seriously, the dark witch simply could not understand it. How could Muggles be so judgmental about a non-issue like two women or two men being in a loving relationship? To her, it was a sign that the muggles were nothing more than chattering apes, evolved just enough to climb down from the trees to take a sh*t on the forest floor.

"Yes," Hermione sighed. "I have to."

Hermione seemed terrified. Terrified of her own parents. Of what they would say. Of how they would judge her. Bellatrix wanted to say that Hermione wouldn't need them if it all went sour, but she knew it was a lie. Hermione was close to her parents, after all. But if they would exile her tonight, Bellatrix would be there for her. She wouldn't have to go through it alone.

Hermione took a deep breath and rang the muggle doorbell. Bellatrix stood behind her, keeping somewhat of a distance. About five minutes later, they were sitting on the sofa in the Granger's living room. It was a nice, proper English muggle house. Clean, wallpapered, carpeted. Plenty of photographs and knickknacks . The silence was pervasive as Emma Granger came back into the room carrying a pot of tea and some cups.

"You are the detective we met back at the Hospital," said Jack. "Is... Is Hermione in trouble? You didn't have a relapse, did you, young lady?"

"No, no!" said Hermione rather quickly. "I haven't touched that poison in three months, not since the rehab. And I don't intend to."

Jack Granger visibly relaxed, easing into his chair. "Then why are you here, if I may ask?" he directed towards Bellatrix.

Before the dark witch could say something, Hermione took a few deep breaths and spoke with a croaked voice. "Mum? Dad? There's something... something I want... I need to tell you."

"Hermione?" Jack asked. "What's wrong?"

Emma Granger hadn't spoken a single word during the exchange so far, but Bellatrix noticed the look on her face – over so often glancing at Hermione's hand, a hand which search to grasp that of the dark-haired witch. It was then that Bellatrix concluded that she knew. Emma granger already knew what Hermione was going to say. "I..." Hermione closed her eyes. "Oh, I'll just come out and say it. Belle and I… we're together."

There is was out. Her lovely girl was immediately totally and utterly petrified. Failure was Hermione's greatest fear; rejection was a close second. The hairs on the back of Bellatrix's prickled as silence fell over the room. Oh, she'd be ready to yell at the first sign of anger; despite her blood-status, Hermione was a witch, an exalted being! Lesser species had no right to judge her, parent or no parent!

"I can see that, dear," said Jack Granger. "You both arrived at the same time, after all."

Hermione blinked. "No… dad," Hermione's nervousness was palpable. "We're… together," she added, putting more emphasis on the word.

"Oh?" he started, but his eyes grew wide when he realized just what Hermione had been saying. "Oh!" gasp. Meanwhile, her Emma had started an intense study of the woodwork on the chair she was sitting in.

"Mum? Dad?" Hermione was close to tears, her voice was small. "Please… say something. Just... something."

"Oh, my dear Hermione," Emma got up from her seat and rushed over to embrace her daughter. Seeing there was not going to be any rejection or harsh words, Hermione flew into her embrace and shed a few tears of joy.

Bellatrix felt relief wash over her. Jack, on the other hand, was still surprised. "Emma? You knew of this?"

Emma looked over Hermione's shoulder. "Didn't you see the looks Hermione gave miss Black at the hospital? A mother knows these things, Jack. Look, would you two give us some time to talk in private, please?"

Bellatrix looked at Hermione for confirmation, but a smile and a nod was all she needed. Soon afterward, she and Jack were standing in the kitchen among an awkward silence.

"I suppose I am pleased to meet you," said Jack finally, offering a handshake - tighter and tighter, until it was a a vice-like grip. He had that 'you've been sleeping with my only child!'-look in his eyes.

Bellatrix was not one to back down, however. She met his gaze with narrowed eyes. Immediately, Jack's expression softened before releasing his grip and sitting down at the kitchen table.

"I apologize, I was… I always expected to have this conversation with a hormonally charged spotty twerp and not with someone my age. Not a… woman," Jack said. "A woman's who's the same age as I am."

The dark witch leaned against the kitchen table. "Does that bother you?" Honestly, Bellatrix didn't really care if it did.

Jack shrugged. "I suppose I should be happy. You're mature, respectable with a good job."

Bellatrix snorted. "Don't know about the respectable part."

"Don't knock yourself. You'll be able to provide for Hermione if necessary."

"Hermione doesn't exactly need providing," Bellatrix chuckled.

Jack shrugged. "It's odd, really. I feel like I've been losing her for years now. Emma and I worked on our careers, Hermione was almost an afterthought. We hardly ever had family dinners and even though we've spent a lot of our evenings as a family, there's a lot of her childhood we just... missed. Hermione never complained, but now I wonder."

In front of her, Bellatrix saw a father who was only now coming to terms with the sudden discovering that his daughter had grown up. "I've found that that Hermione does as she damn well pleases," said Bellatrix mirthfully.

"Then she becomes part of a whole other world we can never be a part of. We don't see her for months on end. It's like she became a visitor to our lives for those few months she was with us. Then she starts skipping visits, vacations… and suddenly we find out she's in the hospital kicking an addiction. And you wonder how it could have happened, where did I go wrong? Was there something I could have done? Why couldn't I protect her?"

The dark witch leaned against the kitchen counter for a moment. "I think I can understand that," said Bellatrix. At first she had wanted to admonish him for these feelings; Hermione had risen above the rank and file stink of the muggles and he should be proud of that. But... what she saw before her was a father who missed his only daughter.

Jack bit his lip for a moment and leaned back on the wooden chair. "Hermione is an adult now and her own person. It's her choice and if her choice is you, I'll respect that."

Bellatrix nodded. "That's a more mature attitude than my father had. I was exiled from my family when I chose my own path."

"Oh," Jack looked at her. "Was it because of… you preferring the company of women?"

The statement was so illogical that is made Bellatrix frown for a moment. "No, no, that's not really much of an issue in the Wizarding world. I was exiled for refusing to go through with an arranged marriage."

"Arranged marriages? That's just awful," said Jack. "A parent's greatest want should be for their children to be happy. I don't see how an arranged marriage can fit that bill."

Bellatrix shrugged. "Father did say he tried to find a girl to match me to, but..."

"He tried to force you to marry a man even though you're... god, that's even worse," Jack spoke. "An inhuman disgrace."

For a moment, Bellatrix bristled. What Jack had said had come dangerous close to pity and she'd be damned before she'd accept pity from a muggle. Still, she supposed she should appreciate the sentiment. A change of subject, then. "Well," Bellatrix chuckled. "There is the upside that I lack the appropriate parts required for unplanned pregnancies. Though if you are worried about the continuation of your family line, there's magical means available if a female couple has a desire for children."

"No, no, no," Jack smiled. "I mean, getting grandchildren would be wonderful, but we're not in any hurry."

"Neither are we."

"It's a relief that there can't be any… accidents," said Jack. "Shall we see how our significant others are holding up?"

When returning to the living room, they caught a smiling Emma and a laughing Hermione mid conversation.

"You've never shown any interest in girls before," said Emma.

"I've never shown any interest in anyone period," said Hermione before turning to her father.

"Bellatrix here is a very beautiful and smart woman, Hermione. Good catch," he said.

Bellatrix had to laugh to herself. Hermione's parents had asked her about everything and anything for the remainder of the evening. Afterwards, Hermione had been so happy when they had come back home that she had needed some... extra intense 'celebrations'. Of course, during the first months of their relationship it just had been sex, sex, sex and more sex all the time. She supposed that that was the lot of people in a new relationship. Honestly, full nights of sleep had been very rare during those days and, well, she supposed they still weren't an all that common occurrence. Not that she complained, of course.

A slight cackle escaped her when she thought back to when Hermione had been hired by the Ministry. Oh, if Hermione had only known what the wicked dark witch had in store for her that day. It started off innocently enough; they'd planned have lunch together, but they had never even gotten remotely near the cafeteria... instead, Bellatrix had dragged her girlfriend into one of the supply closets along the way.

Their antics knocked over mops and buckets when Bellatrix was pushing the whimpering Hermione against the back wall of one of the many DMLE supply closets The dark witch was merciless and relentless, opening the front of her girl's brand-new unassuming grey business jacket and slowly unbuttoned the top of her white blouse.

"B-belle," Hermione gasped, struggling against the inevitable. "W-we can't..."

"Oh, come now," Bellatrix whispered in a throaty voice while nipping at Hermione's neck, causing the young witch to sigh blissfully and co*cked her head in such a way to give Bellatrix easier access to her soft, flawless skin. "Don't you think this is so very exciting, pet? There's only a thin plywood door between us and the corridor. We could be caught... at... any... moment..."

She was nibbling on Hermione's earlobe now, could hear her breath quicken. A hand slid underneath Hermione's blouse and found her bra. The dark-haired witch grinned when she found a hardened nipple struggling against the fabric. "Well, well, well, what's this now, hm?" Bellatrix cooed. "Someone is getting a little aroused, isn't she? Naughty, naughty little pet of mine."

"P-please," Hermione whimpered. "I-it's my first day on the job. I- I want to make a good impression."

"Hmmm," Bellatrix pressed her body against Hermione's, grabbing the back of her head and sliding her fingers through her hair. "If we get caught, you'll make a lasting impression, alright."

"Oh, god!" Hermione shuddered in horror, her mind's eye possibly assaulting her images of her colleagues shaking their heads in disapproval.

Bellatrix chuckled at her girlfriend's discomfort. They'd been together for about four months now, going on strongly. Those past four months, she had explored every inch of Hermione's beautiful, sensitive body. "Hmmmm," Bellatrix groaned while leading a trail of kisses along Hermione's collarbone, a hand sliding into her bra, kneading her soft breast.

"B-belle!" Hermione offered one desperate attempt.

"You are so beautiful," Bellatrix husked. "You drive me mad with desire, pet."

The girl stopped whimpering, a crimson blush streaking her cheeks. After being together for months, Hermione still wasn't used to being told that she was beautiful. Again, Bellatrix could only wonder how it was possible that nobody at Hogwarts had claimed this wonderful girl for her own. She could only come to the conclusion that Gryffindor was filled with blind, moronic fools. Well, their loss was her gain.

A wicked grin crossed Bellatrix's noble features when another hand slid underneath her skirt. Fingertips slid over Hermione's lower belly and found her knickers.

Damp.

"My, my, my," Bellatrix grinned wickedly while Hermione blushed in embarrassment. The dark witch let the tips of her fingers teasingly slide over the surface of the fabric, tracing the contours of its precious contents. Hermione thrashed in response, whimpering, eyes begging for a kiss. A silent request was only too willing to fulfil. Their lips crushed together in a hungry kiss, their tongues wrestling for dominance. Though she spoke words of hesitance, her actions didn't conform.

Bellatrix's own arousal became apparent, lust throbbing through her loins. But she had to be patient; this would be all for Hermione.

"Pet," she whispered. "If you want me to stop, I'll stop."

Bellatrix nipped at the upper slope of Hermione's breast while eager fingers slid into the hem of her knickers. "Tell me to stop," Bellatrix's hot breath brushed over sensitive skin. "Tell me to stop running my lips over your soft skin. Tell me to stop circling your lusciously hard nipple with my thumb. Tell me to stop kissing your silky neck. Tell me take away my playful fingers from your wet, wet knickers. Tell me to stop, pet. All you have to do is to tell me to stop."

Silence.

All that could be heard was Hermione's ragged breaths and pleading moans.

"I thought so," Bellatrix muttered smugly, immediately sliding two fingers inside Hermione, silencing a surprised lustful yelp by covering Hermione's lips with hers. Her tongue plunged into Hermione's mouth while sliding her fingers in and out of Hermione with a steady rhythm of long, slow strokes.

Hermione bucked her hips against the movements of Bellatrix's strokes, taking all of her inside. The dark witch could fell the beating of Hermione's heart while pressing against her. Slowly crooking her fingers when pushing forward, Hermione's softness tightened around her more with every stroke. Unable to keep her body from trembling and jerking, Hermione broke the kiss and threw her head back. Her body started to go rigid and Bellatrix had the quick thought to cover Hermione's mouth with her hand to muffle the coming cries of pleasure in an effort to prevent the worst of embarrassment.

Sweet, wonderful Hermione, so much naughtier than she gave herself credit for, climaxed hard. The young witch went weak in the knees and fell into Bellatrix's embrace. The dark witch kept her upright, amid laboured panting and soft whimpers. Shivering and mumbling incoherently, Bellatrix held her and gently kissed her on the lips. Once Hermione regained feeling in her legs, she merely leaned against the wall, looking rather dishevelled with her loosened blouse, her messy hair and her knickers hanging around her ankles. Bellatrix was rather satisfied with her handiwork.

"I can't believe we just did that!" Hermione hissed quietly after pulling up her knickers and started to adjust her bra and blouse.

In response, the dark witch performed a final tease by slowly licking her own fingers in front of an embarrassed Hermione for good measure.

"God, you're impossible," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Look, I have to go back to work. My lunchbreak is almost over and still I haven't even eaten anything."

Bellatrix eagerly raised an eyebrow in response.

"No! No! NO! Don't even think about it!" Hermione admonished, but a sultry grin quickly appeared. "Not until we get home tonight."

"Oh?" Bellatrix chuckled and snaked her arms around the girl. "I'll be counting the seconds, pet."

Just as Hermione turned to leave, she was stopped in her tracks by Bellatrix whom had grabbed her by the wrist. "What?" Bellatrix showed an over-exaggerated pout. "Don't I get a kiss? Didn't I make you feel good?"

One final, passionate kiss later, both of them quietly left the supply closet. Hermione found her way back to her Department while Bellatrix quietly strolled back to her own office. The moment she entered Magical Homicides, she simply flung herself on her chair, threw her feet on top of her desk and leaned back while wearing a killer smirk.

Bombur, Petunia and Jimmy looked at her incredulously. "So," Petunia finally spoke. "Had a nice lunch?"

She said nothing, only widened her smirk.

"Hermione started work today, didn't she?" Jimmy frowned.

Smirk from ear to ear.

"Did she shag you or did you shag her?" Bombur muttered without looking up from the file he had been holding.

"That would be telling."

Jensen came out of his office holding a file. He was about to open his mouth to say something when Jimmy yelled out loudly: "BELLA JUST HAD SEX WITH HERMIONE DURING HER LUNCHBREAK!"

Jensen rolled his eyes, said nothing and immediately returned to his office, closing the door behind him.

"I think we scared him," Petunia laughed.

"He'll come back out when he gets hungry," Bellatrix smirked.

Ah, good old reliable Storeroom 18.

Good memories. Arousing memories, in fact. Of course, that hadn't been the last time they'd have a quickie in the supply closet at work. Hermione had gotten revenge on her soon afterwards.

After checking the time, she realized she had spent quite some hours reading. Soon, Hermione would come home and would be expecting food on the table. Bellatrix took a piece of parchment and scribbled an order for Indian take-away. After handing it to Horus, the owl immediately and eagerly rushed off to Mould-on-the-wold to deliver the order. The dark-haired witch debated if she should continue on reading, but the chapter she was at was at a crossroads in the story. It was a good place to leave the book to lie for a bit. Instead, her eyes wandered to the mantle above the fireplace. Several framed photographs stood there. It was a mixture of photographs of them together and several from before they had met.

In somewhat of a nostalgic mood, Bellatrix stepped over to a small cupboard near the fireplace and pulled out an old bound photo-album. Mostly, they contained old fading photographs of herself and her sisters which she had collected before she had been exiled from House Black. The pictures had been taken by a myriad of family members, including herself. In the past, the dark-haired witch had debated with herself if she should throw it away, but never actually had the heart to do so.

She flipped through the album until she came across an old picture of her and her two sisters. She must have been six or seven years old at the time. The picture had been taken at a professional photographer, and the three of them sat posing on a stage, laughing and waving at the camera. The dark-haired witch felt herself smiling; had she ever been that young?

Surrounded by picture-frames filled samples of the photographer's work, sat Bellatrix. With all the enthusiasm a bored seven-year old girl could muster, the eldest of the Black sisters sat waiting for the photographer to finish with her sisters.

Honesty, she didn't know why Father had dragged the three of them out to Diagon Alley to have their pictures taken. Father had a camera of his own, after all. When she asked, he told her that this man who took their picture was 'professional' and took pictures with proper lighting and backgrounds. Father had wanted to memento of them, to think back on how little they had once been when the three of them would be all grown up later.

Mostly Bellatrix just enjoyed the sweets. She brought along some pocket-money to buy a big bag of sour winegums from one of the stands outside. Sly as she was, she had picked the sour ones so she wouldn't have to share with her sisters, as sour winegums were the only ones Andie and Cissy didn't like. Itching for a taste, she slid a small hand into the bag on the seat next to her, took out a green one and popped it in her mouth.

The photographer had been taking pictures of all three of them together and was now making portraits of all of them separately. Bellatrix was already done, but an unwilling Andromeda was causing a bit of hold-up. Andie had gotten scared by the flashes and was currently bawling her eyes out while in their father's arms. She loved her sisters to bits, but Merlin she could be such a cry-baby! Andie wanted to go home and was being quite vocal about it. Right now, the photographer's wife was trying to help Father soothe her, getting her to dry her tears before she could re-apply the make-up.

"I wanna go home. I wanna go home," Andie's voice was shaky. Bellatrix only rolled her eyes; they didn't get to leave the manor much and Andie's crying basically meant their adventure in Diagon Alley would be cut short the moment they were done at the photographer's. In the meantime, the three year old Narcissa was happily and haughtily posing on the raised platform. The photographer said she was a natural and that her name fitted her personality, whatever that was supposed to mean.

Bellatrix had had enough. If she couldn't have an adventure after getting there picture taken, she'd have one now!

While her father and the burly bodyguards were too busy focusing on Andromeda, Bellatrix quietly slipped past the curtains darkening the room and into the waiting area, making sure to bring her bag of sour sweeties with her. There were priorities to be had, after all. While munching on some sour candies, she found her way into a waiting area belonging to the shop. Bellatrix had not been in this area; she and her family had apparated right from the streets into the studio at the time of their appointment. The only two other people there were a red-haired boy and a raven-haired woman. The moment they saw her, both offered her a warm smile.

"Hello there, dear," spoke the woman. "Are you lost?"

Bellatrix shook her head 'no'.

"Don't be shy," the woman told the blushing girl.

The little girl had some trouble figuring out what to do. Her parents didn't like her talking to strangers. In fact, she didn't meet much other people. However, her mother had always taught her to be polite in pleasant company. And these two certainly seemed pleasant.

"Hello," she spoke timidly and shuffled forward. "Pleased to meet you."

"Such a polite and nice young lady," said the woman, making Bellatrix smile at the place. "And what would your name be?"

"Bellatrix."

The moment she mentioned her name, an odd expression came over the woman's face, but it was quickly hidden under another warm smile.

"Hello, Bellatrix," spoke the boy while happily extending his hand. "I'm Arthur."

Bellatrix was a bit weary, but carefully took the boy's hand to shake it.

"Are you here to have your picture taken?" Arthur asked.

Bellatrix nodded in reply. "Uh-huh," she said. "With my sisters. But my little sister Andie got a fright which made her cry. She's, well, she can be a bit of a cry-baby."

The woman smiled. "The poor dear. Well, that explains why we haven't been called in yet."

"Do you know how cameras work?" Arthur raved. "Light comes in through the lens when the photographer wants it to. Then it gets projected on silver-nitrate paper which is enchanted so it makes the pictures move. Did you know cameras were invented by muggles? Yeah, I was surprised too. Do I talk too much? People say I talk too much. I don't think I talk too much. Do you think I talk too much?"

Bellatrix co*cked her head sideways. "Muggles invented it? But my father says muggles are pigs who wallow around in the mud. How can pigs invent anything?"

"Eh," Arthur shrugs. "Muggles are just like you and me, only with less magic."

"Huh," Bellatrix frowned.

"Hey, wanna be friends?" Arthur said. "Mum, can I friends with Bellatrix?"

The woman nodded briefly. "If Bellatrix doesn't mind, then you can."

"I don't mind!" Bellatrix quickly announced. Already this adventure was paying off. Normally not being one to share, Bellatrix figured this was a special occasion. She held out the brown paper bag. "Would you like a sweetie?"

"Would I!" Arthur's hand shot into the bag to grasp at the winegums. Bellatrix held it out to the woman next, but she politely waved off the offer.

It was then that her father stepped into the waiting room. "Bellatrix!" he threw a scowl in her direction. "You can't just run off like that! Our family has enemies. Enemies who won't hesitate to hurt you if they'd get the chance!"

It was then that her father spotted the woman and her son. Had Bellatrix been older, she'd have noticed that the entire atmosphere in the room changed; colder, hostile. The moment her father and the woman locked eyes, there was growing tension.

"Cygnus," the woman nodded politely.

"Cedrella," her father accused, almost hissing the name.

Oblivious to it all, Bellatrix looked up at her father with a grin. "Father, I've made a friend!"

"No..." Cygnus spoke, bent down to one knee and spun her around. "No, you have not! These... people are utterly beneath you!"

Bellatrix blinked, then looked down to her feet. "But..." she spoke softly. "I made a friend..."

"Bellatrix," her father replied sternly. "Those... 'people' are blood traitors. You know what that means."

Bellatrix said nothing, but rather nodded grimly.

"You are a noble and pure young lady from a worthy family," said Cygnus Black with a gentle tone of voice. "You'd sully yourself if you associate with them. I want you to remain pure, proper and noble, my little warrior. I don't even want you breathing the same oxygen as them!"

That said, father picked her up, clutched her to his chest and marched off without saying a word. Peeking over her father's shoulder, little Bellatrix managed a weak wave goodbye to a sadly smiling Arthur. The woman, Cedrella, noticed the wave and gave her a warm smile.

But, there was something else in her expression. Something Bellatrix couldn't quite place until after her father had carried her back into the studio.

It was pity.

Bellatrix had to laugh at herself when she remembered that day. Ah, the innocence of youth; if her father had known then that his little warrior would have ended up having a muggle-born lover, he might have thrust her in aunt Cedrella's hands and left her there without looking back. In the end, she and Arthur had never been beyond cordial after those days, though their relationship had improved considerably after she had gotten involved with Hermione. The Weasleys considered the young witch to be extended family, after all.

She replaced the album and closed the cupboard. The food hadn't arrived yet and neither had Hermione, so she still had some time to kill. She let her eyes roam over the photographs on the mantle. There was a photograph of Hermione, Harry and Ron enjoying themselves in Hogsmeade, a photograph of Hermione and Bellatrix in front of Rosewood after having just bought it. Some vacation snapshots. A non-moving photograph of Hermione and her parents.

From her own history, there was the photograph taken when she and her fellow Slytherins had conquered Gryffindor tower. And, more importantly, the photograph of her with Katie, a picture which had been displayed in her apartment for so long.

Hermione had insisted that that particular photograph be placed on the mantle. It showed how big a heart Hermione had; despite the fact that Bellatrix and Katie had just been friends, the dark-haired witch would have found it completely understandable if Hermione wouldn't have wanted a photograph of her girlfriend with another woman on display. Regardless, seeing the picture stirred memories, even moreso since Rodolphus' confession. It was why she had avoided looking at it, and would have preferred to have put it behind lock and keep for the time being. Memories of Katie came bubbling back to the surface of her mind. And in that moment, she was young again, just turned eighteen in her seventh year of Hogwarts.

She had snuck out of Hogwarts through a secret passage, as she so often had before, to meet her friend Katie at Hogsmeade. As usual, they sat on the roof the Three Broomsticks just outside the window of her private room. The night had a clear sky, perfect for stargazing. However, stargazing was not on her mind. Today had been Career Day at Hogwarts and for Bellatrix, it had been rather confronting. As a Black, her life had been planned out for her from the start and mostly involved marriage and popping out pure-blood babies while living in fabulous luxury. Her exile turned all of that upside down and Bellatrix found herself in the clutches of freedom.

Beautiful, terrifying freedom.

She had no idea what to do with her life after Hogwarts. And time to make up her mind was fast was running out. Thankfully, her friend Katie was there to help her out. The bubbly blonde long-haired Australian girl was a year older than she was and did have a lot more life experience than Bellatrix ever had. As usual, Katie wore far too much lipstick and her looped oversized earrings rustled as she chattered merrily, determined to help Bellatrix with the making of a difficult choice.

"You could be a chef," spoke Katie in that odd Australian accent of hers.

"Me? A chef?" Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "Are you even taking this seriously?"

"I didn't say you'd be a good chef," Katie returned before giggling. For a moment, Bellatrix wondered if all Australians were this relaxed. "I just had this mental image of you cooking burgers at Maccas."

Bellatrix growled slightly. "More barmy made-up words. I swear, you're just making them up as you go along!"

"Uh," Katie bit her lip, spreading blood red lipstick all over her front teeth. "On second thought, it might be better if you don't know what Maccas means or you might hex my arse. Oh, better idea! Why don't you apply for a job at the post office? You like owls, right?"

Bellatrix could barely hide her frustration. "Katie, you're not helping!"

"I know! I know!" Katie spoke as if she had seen the light. "Oh, brain-attack!"

"What insane job do you have in mind for me, then?" spoke a frustrated Bellatrix.

Katie grinned and grabbed Bellatrix by the shoulders with such force that the dark witch nearly slid off the roof. Considering they were about twenty feet off the ground, that would not have ended well. "Bella, are you ready for genius?!"

"Pish posh."

"Are you ready?"

"Yesssssssssss," Bellatrix let out an annoyed grunt.

"Brace for it!" Katie was getting very excited now. "You should be... a walloper!"

Bellatrix blinked once, twice. And then narrowed her eyes. "Oh, you just made that word up!"

"I'm talking about the cops! The fuzz, mister plod, Johnny Law, the Heat, Flatfoot, the cherry toppers!"

It took a while to register just what Katie was saying. "You're daft!" Bellatrix exclaimed. "That's the most idiotic suggestion yet! I break dozens of rules on a daily basis!"

Katie grinned wickedly. "Ah, but you need to know the rules before you break them. And you know how it's done. That means you can catch other people doing it."

"It's still ludicrous," said Bellatrix. "Me. A copper. Me? Are you seven different shades of stupid?!"

"You always say that you can spot a liar a mile away."

"That's true, I suppose," Bellatrix had to admit that.

"Come on, think about it. You'd be perfect for it! You're clever, you're observant, and you can scare the hell out of people... You'd make an ace crime-fighter! Like Batman only with tit*."

"Still, law enforcement?" Bellatrix shook her head. "I suppose I'll have to think about it. What on Earth made you suggest that? You know how much of a troublemaker I am."

"Nah," said Katie. "You know what your problem is? You're just bored. School's no challenge for you and that's why you're making a dill of yourself in class. I've seen it all before. My little brother from my mum's second marriage has the some problem. He's the squib I mentioned before, so he goes to a Muggle school, but it doesn't matter. It's exactly the same problem everywhere."

"A squib, huh?" Bellatrix muttered to herself. "That's mudblood genes if ever I've heard it."

Immediately, Bellatrix was on the receiving end of a hard slap against the back of her head, sending dark curls out of formation and spilling in front of her eyes.

"Bellatrix Druella Black!" Katie narrowed her eyes. "The 'mudblood' that supplied the genes happens to be my mum!"

"Right, sorry, sorry," Bellatrix said quickly. Katie often treated her to a smack in the back of the head when she intentionally or unintentionally insulted non pure-bloods. Still, Katie was the only person she allowed to do that and get away with it, anyone else would be hexed into oblivion. They remained silent for a bit, laying on their backs as they watched the stars.

"Dumbledore visited me again today. He asked me how I was doing."

"He sounds like someone who cares for his kids," Katie said. "So?"

"Hm?"

"How are you doing, then?"

"Fine," Bellatrix replied.

"Did you feed Dumbledore that lie too? I bet he didn't buy it either."

Bellatrix bristled. "I'm fine, Katie!"

"No, you're not. I can tell, you see?"

"Really, how do you figure that?"

"Magic!" Katie giggle and made waggly movements with her fingers. "Also, you're playing with the hem of your dress. You always do that when you're distracted."

"It's just Cissy and Andie."

"What about them?"

Bellatrix let out a sigh. It was somewhat embarrassing to tell. "Andie and Cissy managed to sneak me some money from their savings accounts at Gringotts. It's small enough to be unnoticed by my parents, but it'll still be enough to pay the rent on a small apartment for at least a year. It should keep me afloat while I figure out what to do with my life."

In truth, Bellatrix still had a lot of her jewelry and fine clothes. She had been planning to sell them to gather some money to survive off, but thanks to her sisters she could hold on to them just a little while longer. Bellatrix couldn't bear the thought of selling her Black family signet ring and or the silver jackdaw necklace, a gift from her grandmother, but there were plenty of other things she could easily part with.

"Kingly gift."

"Not a gift, a loan!" Bellatrix snapped. "I'm going to pay them back to the very last knut."

"Right, there's that Black family pride again… and the Black temper," Katie winked. "Don't worry about it, Bella. They know they have a big sis who loves them and is always looking out for them. They love you as much as you love them. They want you to know they can be there for you too. And you might wanna watch out; before you realize it, there'll be a deadbeat Aussie bumming around on your sofa."

"You'll always be welcome in my home, Katie," Bellatrix said. "You and my sisters. The rest of the world can burn for all I care." She hadn't meant it to sound as bitter as it did, but she was simply in a gloomy mood.

Katie apparently noticed, however, and looked at her with one eyebrow raised. "Right, there's the cynical miss Black again. Now, will you finally gonna tell me what's really bothering you?"

Bellatrix sighed heavily. There was no escaping Katie now. "I got a letter from my parents today," Bellatrix spoke, almost a whisper. "They're still trying to get me to reconsider. My... my mother sent me box of those strawberry scones I really like and... Father," Bellatrix closed her eyes to fight back her tears. A futile effort, that much she knew. "Father... wants his 'little warrior' to come home. I just, I just miss them so much, Katie."

"I know, Bella. I know," Bellatrix heard Katie say as she tried her best to comfort her. The choice had been made, there was no going back to her family. As determined as she was to stick by her decision, Bellatrix was only human. And she had lost almost everything she had had.

The elder Bellatrix felt anger constrict her heart as the memory faded. A few hours later, Katie would be dead. They'd been planning a trip to Australia after Bellatrix would have graduated; they'd be staying with Katie's uncle in Adelaide and sort of take it from there. Katie had a, well, complicated family life. Several divorces and remarriages had led to numerous half-brothers, half-sisters, cousins and the list went on. Blood purity wasn't an issue for the McKenzies, so Katie had subtly let her know that if Bellatrix even thought about using the word 'mudblood', she would personally feed her to dangerous indigenous fauna Australia was rich. Apparently, the magical creatures living in Australia was even more dangerous and the non-magical fauna. Something about flesh-eating giant koalas, undead crocodiles and vorpal kangaroos.

But instead of traveling to Australia to have fun and forget her troubles, she went there for her friend's funeral. Sadness had transformed into bitterness long ago, but now that Rodolphus Lestrange had implicated himself, the case would be reopened. There was no statute of limitation on murder, after all.

The take-away had been neatly apparated onto their dinner table. Bellatrix decided to take the food upstairs to the balcony. Just as she had unpacked the bag and set up a table in between two chairs, she heard rustling downstairs.

"Belle?" Hermione called out. "Are you home?"

"Up here, pet," Bellatrix yelled down. "Bring some plates and cutlery!"

A few minutes later, Bellatrix and Hermione were seated on the balcony, watching the rolling fields while the warmth of the sun and a light breeze set upon them.

"How was you day?" Hermione asked.

"Filled with reading and, well, reflecting, I suppose," Bellatrix shrugged.

Hermione scoffed. "Not that trash again, I hope? You should read some classics, like Chaucer or Dickens."

"Do Chaucer and Dickens have a malevolent entity disguising itself as a monstrous clown in their stories? No? Then I'm not interested," Bellatrix winked.

"Philistine," Hermione sighed. "I can never get enough of this view."

"Neither can I," Bellatrix replied with a sultry grin.

Hermione frowned. "But you're looking at me."

"Exactly!"

Her young girlfriend let out a heavy sigh. "You incorrigible horndog," she replied with a half-smile.

Chapter 8: Into the lion's den

Chapter Text

"Are you ready?" asked an eager Rudolphus as they stood for a seemingly solid wall in a cul-de-sac in the Purity Front lodge. Near them, in the main hall which was just a corridor away, a party was being hosted for the Front's 'foot soldiers'. 'Bread and circuses for the people', Bellatrix surmised.

"Quite," said Bellatrix as she paid attention to the movements Rodolphus made with his wand. She made note of the moves and swishes he made on the off chance that she would need to mimic them at some point in the future. Magic was ripe in the air when the wall folded in on itself to give way to another corridor. Stepping into the lion's den as it were, she walked besides Rodolphus as he entered.

"I'll have the wall tuned to your wand as soon as I can," said Rodolphus. "As for now, I am eager to introduce you to the others. I'm certain you will find them agreeable."

Bellatrix didn't listen; instead she kept an eye open for the layout of inner sanctum; there was a labyrinthine collection of narrow corridors off the side of the main corridor, which seemingly lead into an office area. To the other side there seemed to be private rooms.

Apparently having followed her gaze, Rodolphus interrupted her thoughts. "Every member of the inner circle has a private room with a settee, a desk and whatever amenities a member asks for. Yours isn't ready yet, but you are free to use mine for the time being."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes while Rodolphus continued leading her into the complex. The way forward led them into a small waiting area, furnished with very expensive looking couches and tables. A cabinet with beverages stood against the wall. However, there seemed to be someone waiting for them. Stood in the middle of the room was a man with a severe quality to his expression, dark hair and an unshaven appearance, giving Rodolphus a nod and Bellatrix a surprisingly warm smile.

"Antonin," Rodolphus greeted the man rather coldly.

Ah, so this is Dolohov, then.

"And this lovely creature must be Bellatrix Black," said Dolohov in an accented voice, ignoring the man and gently took Bellatrix's hand. The dark-haired witch allowed him to bring the back of her hand to his lips and to kiss it and he did so with gusto. "I must thank you for my continued freedom and I am honoured to be the first of us to welcome you among our midst. I do hope we will have many stimulating conversations in the future."

"That will be quite enough, Antonin," Rodolphus said through gritted teeth.

To Bellatrix, this entire exchange was rather comical. She had to admit that Dolohov was quite charming, while Rodolphus' jealousy was nothing if expected. The tension between the two men was palpable. "Pleased to meet you, Antonin," Bellatrix nodded, throwing further oil on the fire. Rodolphus immediately hooked his arm around Bellatrix's and glared at Dolohov.

"Well," smirked Dolohov. "Far from me to come between you and your beautiful lady, Rodolphus. I shall take my leave."

That said, Dolohov took his leave while Rodolphus stared daggers at him as he left. "Well," Rodolphus spoke. "It seems Antonin has stolen the wind from my sails somewhat. No matter. Come, Bella, I will introduce you to the others."

Rodolphus led her into a larger hall, for all intents and purposes, a smoking room for upper class people to mingle and enjoy themselves in a leisure environment. There were all manner of chaise lounges, leather seats and tables to sit at to chat quietly. A large dining table had been set up for banquets and it seemed to be frequently used. A bar stocked with all manner of expensive drinks was located on the far side of the room, manned by a haughty looking house-elf bartender. A small dais was located in the middle of the room, apparently used for speakers. Some twenty-five wizards and witches were mulling about either chatting, drinking or otherwise networking. Tall green-glass windows let in light from the the outside, lined with expensive tapestries. Soft music played from an enchanted phonograph, creating a surprisingly pleasant atmosphere.

Honestly, Bellatrix hadn't been certain what to expect, but so far this seemed to be a fairly common social gathering. Granted, the room was more luxurious than the festhall for the common members, but otherwise there wasn't much difference. However, the wizards and witches mulling about didn't seem to be... in place. Most of them were dressed in unassuming grab, unfitting the luxury of the hall.

"Impressed?"

"Certainly different," Bellatrix replied in a neutral fashion.

Rodolphus was satisfied with her answer and clapped his hands. "Lady-witches and gentle-wizards," said Rodolphus after making sure he had the attention of the room. He stepped towards the dais and presented Bellatrix as if she he had won her as a prize. "May I present the magnificently beautiful Bellatrix Black, of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."

What followed was a round of pleasant introductions. Most of the wizards and witches she did not know, but were apparently businessmen or local politicians. There were plenty of others, however, who were more shady. When presented, they mentioned they were in the 'shipping' business or that they were 'suppliers'. The dark-haired witch wasn't insipid; reading between the lines, she surmised they were involved in criminal enterprises, just like Dolohov was. Certainly not the types of people she had expected to be here as members of such an 'esteemed' establishment, and certainly not in so great a number.

There was one wizard she definitely knew, however.

Lucius Malfoy.

The fair-haired wizard sat at the bar and barely looked at her. For a moment, Bellatrix dealt with a brief bout of panic, readying herself to rub her ring and call for back-up the moment Lucius would open his mouth; he knew all about Bellatrix's relationship with a muggle-born, a fact which wouldn't go over too well with this crowd. However, the accusation never came. Lucius simply stared blankly at her for a moment, before diving back into his drink and ignoring her.

Curious.

"Really, Rodolphus," said Lucius. "You don't need to introduce me to my own sister in law. Hello, Bella."

"Lucius," Bellatrix nodded, noting that there was none of his usual bluster.

"I'm sure there's plenty ofotherpeople the two of you can talk to," Lucius spoke softly. He refused to look at either of them and instead took another sip from his drink. The hint he gave her was abundantly clear.

Rodolphus bristled. "What's the bee up your bonnet, Malfoy?"

"Let's just leave him be, hm?" said Bellatrix, not wanting to tempt fate. "He obviously doesn't want to talk to us."

"His loss," Rodolphus shrugged.

The last person Bellatrix was introduced to was certainly the least pleasant, and every bit frightening. In front of her stood a woman with the face of a toad, wearing an entirely pink suit. Of course, the dark-haired witch recognized her: Dolores Umbridge, the Madam Undersecretary to Cornelius Fudge. This was a woman in one of the highest positions of power, someone who had the Minister's ear. It make her wonder just how much of a grasp the Front currently had on the wizarding world, if it had her as a member.

"Dolores," Rodolphus nodded.

"Dolphus," Dolores replied to him with a fake smile. It seemed there was another woman in the room who loathed him as much as Bellatrix did. It was a soothing thought. Another interesting thing to note is that, from the tone of voice, there was supposedly a prior history there.

Before Umbridge even greeted her, Bellatrix felt the toad attempting to worm around in her brain. She was being none too subtle about it; her attempts were like a battering ram against her barriers. Immediately, Bellatrix pushed any thoughts of her mission and of Hermione deep within her mind and strengthened her barriers, focusing on spiteful and violent thoughts to distract Umbridge from the truth. Thinking quickly the best idea she had was to start making a scene.

"Get… out… of… my… HEAD!" Bellatrix shrieked in the toad's face, causing every head in the room to turn towards her. That was enough to embarrass this toad of a woman and she was intensely relieved to feel her mental tendrils slide out of her skull.

"Dolores, please!" Rodolphus sputtered. "I bring you a wonderful new recruit for our inner circle, a woman is a position to be a great asset to us, and you insult her by trying to invade her mind!"

Umbridge's fake smile never faltered. "Dolphus, you are simply too trusting. Especially when so entranced by this woman's... assets. They are exactly as you described to the male members of our little group."

Some laughs and guffaws could be heard from other members. Obviously, it embarrassed Rodolphus enough to look away.

"I'll be completely honest, miss Black," said Umbridge. "I do not trust you. Due to a severe lapse of judgment by a certain member of our esteemed little group, you have become part much more quickly than I would find wise. While I appreciate the tasks you have done for us, I will be watching you closely, miss Black. You can be assured of that."

Bellatrix quite understood where Umbridge was coming from while she watched the Toad leave. Unlike Rodolphus, Umbridge was a lot more cautious and a lot less quick to trust. The woman was obviously a danger to her cover, but at least Bellatrix could respect her attitude.

"Well," Rodolphus looked to be rather uncomfortable. Bellatrix wasn't really paying him any mind; instead she slowly craned her head along the contours of the room to make sure that her hairpin was recording a clear picture of everybody in the room. "That was rather... embarrassing. I assure you that I have not been bragging about your, well, curves. Uh, not that they're not worth bragging about, mind you.

"Of course," Bellatrix fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"Lestrange, you're bloody liar!" laughed a wizard she didn't know from the bar. Rodolphus shot him an icy glare before apparently deciding he had enough disparaging comments aimed at him.

Rodolpus turned to a rather stocky blonde woman in a black cloak. "Alecto? Where is our entertainment? Certainly our newest member might like to partake, hm?"

The woman Alecto shot Rodolphus a sad*stic and wicked grin which honestly sent shivers down her spine. However, she didn't know what was worse; the woman's grin or Rodolphus' cooing. The stocky woman, apparently one half of a twin, proudly strolled over a large red curtain. The dark witch looked on in fascination when the curtain was pushed aside, revealing a dark cubby beyond with a metal chain linked to the side. The other end of the chain led into the darkness of the cubby.

"Out!" the witch named Alecto yanked on the chain. The sound of whimpering came from the cubby. The very sound alone caused a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. What appeared out of the cubby caused her breath to catch in her throat. Clad in rags, unkempt and demure, were a dozen young wizards, both male and female. Their eyes were downcast, literally terrified of looking at any of the pure-blood wizards as they were bound to the wrists with a single chain. They seemed malnourished and abused and all of them bore a single scar in the shapes of a word. Words which seemed to have been into their skin with a crude knife.

'Maggot'. 'Mudblood'. 'Unclean'. 'Impure'. 'Dirty blood'. 'Useless'. 'Thief'. 'Inferior'. 'Slave'.

"W-what is this?" Bellatrix asked, barely able to contain her shock. The chain clattered to the ground, but the kids weren't running off like they should. Instead, they shuffled wordlessly to whatever task they had been assigned. They looked more dead than alive. All of these poor kids looked broken... ruined...

"Mudbloods," Rodolphus grinned. "Mudbloods who have been put in their proper place, where they belong. Underneath our boot heel!"

For good measure, Rodolphus pressed his boot down on a mudblo... no, a person who was next to one of the sofa on all fours, and pressed him against the floor. "Yes," said Rodolphus. "Very docile now, aren't you?"

"Yes, master," replied the poor boy, his voice ragged and dry.

It took Bellatrix a few moments to regain her composure and slip into her persona again. "Ah, yes, as it should be," she spoke, trying to keep her voice as steady as possible and thanking Merlin above that her skin was naturally pale or she might have given the game away right then and there.

"Well," said Rodolphus as he led her to one of the sofas and held her hand as she sat down. Immediately, Rodolphus snapped his fingers and one of the broken muggleborns scurried on all fours to fold himself up in front of him. Bellatrix watched in horrid fascination when he put his boots on his back, using the boy as a footrest. The dark witch could barely hide an involuntary start when a second Muggleborn slowly crawled towards her with a tray on her back, containing a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"You are uncomfortable?" Rodolphus asked softly.

"Well," Bellatrix started as she took the glasses and poured the wine. "I've never, ahum, used living furniture before."

"I quite understand. And don't worry," grinned Rodolphus. "You'll get used to it. Besides which, they are all housebroken."

Bellatrix looked around as saw a few of the other pure-bloods using the muggleborns in a similar fashion. It actually made her sick to her stomach; Bellatrix liked to think ever her much younger self would have been repulsed by this, but she knew she was lying to herself. Her younger, stupid self would have gone right along with this. Would probably have been delighted about it, even. The poor girl avoided her gaze and, honestly, she wanted to look at anything else than the poor kids right now. She noticed Lucius sitting away from the others at a table, a regular wooden one, still nursing a drink. The usually bombastic and prideful man was much quieter than she had ever seen him. So far, he made no move to blow her cover, but he glanced away whenever Bellatrix directed her gaze in his direction.

"These mudbloods have served their purpose, however," said Rodolphus.

Bellatrix nodded. "Legilimency," she finished the thought for him. "These mudbloods came from the muggle world. People from the Front lifted from their minds any knowledge about what muggles would find valuable and whom would be most likely to be interested in buying enchanted goods."

"Very astute," Rodolphus grinned. "You truly are a detective."

"Tell me, did any of them ever attempt to escape?" asked Bellatrix. "Surely some are harder to break than others."

Rodolphus grit his teeth after reliving an apparent bad memory. "Only one," said Rodolphus. "Boy we picked up in Hogsmeade. He managed to get the jump on us, took a wand and bolted into the streets of muggle London. He thought we wouldn't chase him there. He thought wrong. We almost had him when he suddenly jumped off the Tower Bridge to avoid capture. The boy was too weakened to swim against the current and we couldn't be arsed to recover him."

Martin. The case she had been working on before this mission immediately came to mind, as did the other files she had studied. Aside from Martin, there were twelve missing muggleborn youths. Around her in the room were twelve muggleborn slaves. The missing persons had all been found, but right now there wasn't much she could do about it. Or was there?

"The boy was named Martin," said Bellatrix, hoping to mine Rodolphus for information as well as getting a confession out of him. Her hairclip was still recording, after all. "I know because his case was handled by Magical Homicides."

Rodolphus grunted for a moment. "Typical. You wouldn't happen to know a Petunia Hearthgood, wouldn't you?"

That got Bellatrix's attention. "She has the desk next to me. Why?"

The cad of a man chuckled. "My contacts tells me that this Hearthgood has been asking questions. She's getting uncomfortably close and is poking in places I don't want her to poke. Tell me about this woman. Can she be made to be sympathetic to our cause?"

Bellatrix shook her head. "No," she spoke truthfully. "She doesn't believe in the sanctity of blood."

"Can she be bribed, perhaps?"

"No," replied Bellatrix. "She's an honest policewoman."

"Ah," sighed Rodolphus. "I hate those."

The next question made her blood freeze in her veins. "Do you know where she lives?"

Her eyes grew wide. "You are not going to harm Petunia!"

Rodolphus shrugged and glanced at Alecto and her brother, currently poking and prodding one of the muggleborn girls. "Well... there are plenty of ways to convince her. The Carrows have certain talents which..."

"I'll talk to her!" she hissed wickedly. "And if I so much as hear that you've sent your attack dogs..."

"Calm down!" Lestrange held up his hands, looking at her as if she was a hissing cat. "I won't, I won't. I defer to your judgment. You've delivered twice before. I'm sure you'll help us yet again. Trust me, the inner circle's most valuable currency are favours. And you've gained a lot of credit already."

Bellatrix relaxed somewhat; if she hadn't decided to ask about Martin, she'd have never known that Petunia was in danger. Now to get Petunia to back off, which would be the real job. Rodolphus tried to salvage the conversation with her with so very unsubtle flirts while a broken muggleborn girl poured them wine. Bellatrix let him chatter. However, it became more interesting after Rodolphus brought up a silencing spell over the couch.

"The Front lacks a strong leader, someone with a vision," Rodolphus said. "Too much in our group is done by committee. Ego and self-interest gets in the way of true greatness. I could be that leader, Bella," Rodolphus said, a dead serious expression on his face.

"You? A Dark Lord?" Bellatrix tried to keep himself from laughing out as best she could. She didn't entirely succeed, but at least Rodolphus apparently saw her snicker as 'charming'.

"Any why not?" asked Rodolphus. "It is because of me that we have the power the Front wields."

Bellatrix leaned forward. "Truly? Were you the one who started this so-called invisible war? Did you make the first contact with potential allies? Did you place your own people in positions of power?"

Bellatrix asked. There was subtle mockery on her voice, but Rodolphus being Rodolphus, it went completely over his head. "Well," Rodolphus shifted slightly. "No. Dolores got everything started," said Rodolphus. "But it was I who took over when it grew over her head. It is I who regulates and maintain our contacts. It is I who recruits new members to our cause. New members such as yourself."

So far, his attempts to impress her were impressively failing to do so; the way he described his role was more like a glorified HR recruiter. Still, he was giving her valuable information that was all recorded on her clip. "Still, a Dark Lord? We haven't had one of those since Gellert Grindelwald and we all know what happened to him."

Rodolphus ignored the barb and raised his glass to his mouth, before putting it back on the tray on the muggleborn witch's back. "A Dark Lord needs a Dark Lady," Rodolphus spoke. "A strong and loyal supporter, utterly devoted to her Lord. A first and foremost lieutenant."

The dark-haired witch raised an eyebrow. "I might be interested," she lied. "What would you have to offer me, hm? Surely something enticing?"

"You mean, besides being my queen as we rule over a pure-blood paradise? Cleansed of all impurities and where all mudblood filth are put in their place?" said Rodolphus. "The others, well, let's just say that pure-blood ideals aren't as important to some of the members here. I aim to change that."

Bellatrix said nothing, but for a moment, imagined Hermione in that muggleborn's place. Sweet, kind and strong Hermione, being utterly broken, the spark in her gentle soul extinguished by abuse and torture. It terrified Bellatrix to her very core. If anything, it made her even more determined to see this mission through and end this threat to the wizarding world forever. "We'll see what happens," Bellatrix twirled a curled locked with her finger coyly.

"Indeed we shall," grinned Rodolphus.

"Bloody hell," Nymphadora shook her head again and again as they once again sat at the safe-house in dreary Dartford, bent over the pensieve to look at the recordings the hairclip had made. "Bloody hell, bloody hell, bloody hell."

"You seem upset," Bellatrix said as she stood at the window, watching the rain fall outside.

"And you're not?!" Nymphadora retorted after looking up from the pensieve. "How could anyone do that to those poor people?"

Nymphadora had picked up a few bottles of water from a Muggle supermarket. Bellatrix unscrewed the top and let the cool liquid slide into her mouth. "Missing persons," said Bellatrix. "I was looking into their case files to see if they were somehow related to the case of a boy called Martin whom had been found floating in the Thames. Twelve missing persons; twelve enslaved muggle-borns."

"This... this is vile," Nymphadora shook her head.

"Those are people who believe they can get away with anything," Bellatrix shot back. "Got a good look at the members?"

"Quite an interesting mix of people," said Nymphadora. "Dolores Umbridge. Pius is going to have a hard time with this. We'll need really solid evidence before we can even think about making a move."

Bellatrix put down the water bottle and strolled over to the pensieve. "Will you be staging a raid?"

"Didn't you hear what I just said?! As much as I'd love to storm in to rescue those poor people, we can't. We need more evidence to pin conspiracy charges on them," Nymphadora replied.

"What's the point? Kidnapping and torture will get them a one-way ticket to Azkaban anyway," Bellatrix shrugged.

Nymphadora seemed thoughtful for a moment. The dark-haired witch regarded; the plucky auror was torn and conflicted. Nymphadora had always had a good heart, something she had inherited from her mother. Duty and rationality hailed victory over emotion, however. "But then we'll never know how far this conspiracy goes of if these people are even all of the inner circle. The remnants of the Purity Front will go underground and can still do loads of damage. We need to do this right. But I promise you this: we are going to save those people."

"You don't have to promise me anything," said Bellatrix. "Alright, I'll keep pressing Rodolphus, but I will need to be careful around Umbridge, though. She doesn't trust me."

A familiar face propped up in the pensieve, making Nymphadora gasp the moment she saw him. "Oh my, is that... is that uncle Lucius? Tell me that's not uncle Lucius!"

"It's uncle Lucius," said Bellatrix matter-of-factly. "Let me guess, the hair gave him away?"

Nymphadora snapped her head up. "Dammit, this is serious, aunt Bella. If he's implicated in this, he could get a life sentence in Azkaban! That'll destroy aunt Cissy and Draco. Dammit, why did he have to be there?!"

Bellatrix shook her head. "He's got nothing to worry about, Dora."

"And why is that, pray tell?" Nymphadora narrowed her eyes. "Him being in a room full of enslaved and tortured people is rather damning."

"Because he's our mole."

Nymphadora blinked. "How do you figure that?"

Bellatrix paced around the room, suppressing a shudder. This safe-house wasn't heated in any way and it had gotten quite cold as evening approached. "It's the way he acted. He wasn't vainglorious or bombastic like he usually is; in fact, he behaved as if he really didn't want to be there. Aside from that, he knows all about me and Hermione, and yet he said nothing."

Nymphadora co*cked her head sideways. "That's a lot of speculation, but nothing solid."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm planning to confront him, see what he knows. Give me a chance to talk to him at the next meeting."

"Alright, I'll trust your instinct on this," Nymphadora sighed, looking far from happy about this call. "I'll give my daily report to Pius. He's going to flip when he learns about this. Just... remember that you have your ring. I'll be standing by if things go tit* up tomorrow."

Bellatrix nodded grimly. "Now, I just have to find a way to get Petunia to back off without telling her way."

The floo network deposited Bellatrix right into the living room of Petunia's quaint Hammersmith maisonette. Bellatrix had been there a couple of times before; Petunia was quite house-proud and kept her maisonette clean and proper. Many family portraits hung from the wall, and the house was adorned with plenty of quality furniture. Today was Petunia's usual day off work and, as expected, she found her at home.

"Just a moment," called Petunia from the kitchen. "I'll be right out. Go sit yourself down by the fire!"

Bellatrix did so, parking herself on the sofa. The dark-haired witch regarded Petunia's seemingly endless collection of clocks covering every bit of the wall which hadn't been already covered by family portraits, filling the room with ticking. Ironically and amusingly, none of the many dozens clocks read the correct time.

Petunia came out swiftly enough. There was a brief look of surprise on her face before smiling and sitting down. "Bells!" she greeted. "Look at you! Your tit* are hanging out!"

Instinctively, she crossed her breasts, only to realize that Petunia had used an hyperbole. "It's, uhm, work clothes."

"Right," Petunia rolled her eyes. "I bet Hermionelovesthat dress."

Before Bellatrix could answer, there was a loud crash from beyond the wall. Followed by another crash. And the sound of a vase breaking over someone's head. Oh, Merlin, Petunia's muggle neighbors were fighting again, violent muggle pigs that they were.

"Hm, sounds like Eddie is winning again. Poor Richie never gets a break... well, except when it's a bone," Petunia shrugged. "So, what brings you here?"

"I'll keep this short," said Bellatrix. "Your case. Martin and the missing muggleborns."

"Oh, yeah!" Petunia grinned. "You were so right about the missing person cases! Got some great leads there. There were some witnesses tracing three of the missing muggleborns to having been in Knockturn alley at some point. I've been to Three-Legged Mare to talk to some of the regulars there. I think we..."

"I need you to stop your investigation," Bellatrix interrupted, biting her lip while she did so.

Petunia raised an eyebrow. "What? Why?"

"I..." Bellatrix sighed heavily. "I can't tell you. Let's just say that your investigation intersects mine. I... need you to back off for now."

Petunia frowned. "You want me to stop looking for people who might be in dire trouble. And you won't tell me why. Does this have something to do with that odd hush-hush mission you're on?"

sh*t, this was difficult. She had always trusted Petunia in the past, but, well, she had known her long enough to realize Petunia had loose lips. She risked exposure, putting herself and others in danger if the Front ever found out. She would have to navigate this potential mine-field carefully. "Petunia," said Bellatrix. "Trust me. You don't want to get too close. Please, just trust me. If you only knew what I've seen today..."

Suddenly, Petunia's entire demeanour changed. Gone were the laughing eyes, the gentle smiles and the affectionate ribbing. The rotund witch went completely rigid while regarding the dark with carefully. "Bells?" she asked quietly. "Are you on the take?"

Bellatrix blinked. "What?! No! Petunia, youknowme!"

"Pull the other one!" said Petunia. "You come to my house unannounced, which you normally never do, wearing a sexy co*cktail dress, ask me to drop my investigation but won't tell me why, all the while acting very suspiciously. Come off it, Bells. Bombie and Jimmy would be asking you exactly the same question."

Bellatrix nodded; her logic was sound and Petunia was a detective for a reason. "How can I convince you?" Bellatrix asked.

"Just look me in the eye when you answer," Petunia repeated. "Are you on the take, Bells?"

The dark-haired witch leaned forward and locked eyes with her colleague and friend, someone she would trust with her life. "No," she spoke calmly. "Everything I'm doing is sanctioned."

Petunia visibly relaxed. The smile returned and she briefly touched Bellatrix's hand. "I just needed to hear that. So, what would I tell Jensen, then?"

The dark-haired witch snorted. "Tell him Bells said so."

"Ooooh, intrigue!" Petunia laughed. "So hedoesknow about your super-secret mission, Bellatrix Bond!"

"Bond?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "My last name is Black. I'm sure you must have picked that up at some point during our fifteen years of working together."

"Just a joke," Petunia shrugged. "Anyways, I think I will do my best to sleuth some information out of him. Though I still expect you to tell me every sordid detail once the mission is done. Now, you look like you could use a cold pint of bitter. Shall we head over to the Leaky?"

"Please," Bellatrix smirked. "Though I suspect you're trying to get me drunk enough to talk."

"Maaaybbbeee."

Hermione was putting the kettle on when Bellatrix passed by the kitchen and couldn't help but gently wrap her arms around her girlfriend's waist while kissing the top of her head.

The young witch giggled in response. "Belle, what's gotten into you today?"

What she had witnessed at the lodge had put her into a mood to cuddle Hermione, to hold her, protect her. The dark witch gently nibbled on Hermione's earlobe as she held her close to her. Not that Hermione seemed to be complaining about it.

"Don't mind me," laughed Andromeda from the living room, having quite a view of the spectacle from the chair she was in.

When the tea was done, Hermione returned to the living room with Bellatrix in tow. After Hermione poured the tea, they both sat down on the sofa. Still, Bellatrix's urge to cuddle had not left her and gently pulled Hermione against her.

"Bella, I can't get over what a difference your new hairdo has made. Merlin, you look ten years younger," Andie spoke as she dropped two sugars in her tea.

"I keep hearing that," Bellatrix replied. For years, people had told the both of them that they had an uncanny physical resemblance and Bellatrix had to agree. Aside from slightly higher cheek-bones on Andie, the only real difference between them was the colour of their hair. Dark versus light brown. Her little sister had been dropping by more often as of late and, in truth, Bellatrix was glad to have more company these days. Though she didn't have nearly as many anecdotes to tell as Andie did, Bellatrix was only too happy to listen.

"... so Nymphadora tells me you and her are working on a case together," said Andie as she sipped her tea. "And that's all I'm getting out of her. Not even using my motherly charms helped."

"And by motherly charms, you mean guilt-tripping your first-born?" Bellatrix winked. "And before you ask, Andie, no, I'm not telling you a thing. It's better if you don't know anyway."

Her sister giggled briefly. "I just bet that you told Hermione, though. But I suppose I don't kiss as good as she does." Andie winked playfully, causing Hermione to blush slightly.

"Also, you're my sister," Bellatrix said. "That would make it strange and more than a little scandalous. But seriously, drop the enquiries. It's better if you don't know, like I said before."

"Oooooh," Andromeda laughed in slight mockery. "Sounds serious."

"It is," Bellatrix spoke harshly. "Again, seriously... drop it. Don't ask Dora. The less you know, the better. You might be putting lives at risk."

Andromeda seemed shocked for a moment at the severity on Bellatrix's voice. Truly, the dark witch hated doing this, but it was for the best. Thankfully, Andie decided to drop the subject, seeing she wasn't getting any good gossip from either Bellatrix or Hermione and found another topic altogether. "Ted and I will be spending some time in Cornwall next month. His sister is getting married. It's all very romantic and it got me thinking; Andromeda, I asked myself, how long will it will be before we'll be ringing the wedding bells for my dearest elder sister?"

At that same moment, Bellatrix choked on her tea and coughed out loudly.

"Honestly, we haven't thought much about it," Hermione said. "As you can probably tell from Belle's reaction."

Certainly not would be the answer to that. Still, marriage to Hermione? Sure, she wouldn't mind, but was it really necessary? Wouldn't it be enough just for two people to be in love?

"Why not get married?" Andie smiled. "You're obviously crazy about each other. Tie the knot already and make it official!"

"Andie," Bellatrix groaned. "It'll just be an excuse for you to organize a party."

"Maybe so," Andromeda giggled. "I wonder though, how would you handle the name?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

Andromeda offered a half-smile. "For me and Ted it was rather obvious, but I can imagine it'll be a bit harder for two women to decide which family name to take."

The dark-haired witch scoffed. "That would be Black, obviously."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" she spoke with a cold edge on her voice. "Why would that be obvious? Please enlighten me, I'm all ears."

"Are you kidding me, pet?" Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "Who would not be honoured to be part of the Black family tree? It's an honoured and ancient house full of history, tradition and nobility."

Hermione seemed less than impressed. "And all of that seems to be very much against muggle-borns. So why would this muggle-born want to be part of such a family tree?"

"Think about it," Bellatrix grinned. "You'd be the first muggle-born Black! You'd be a trail-blazer."

"And what's wrong with Granger, hm?" Hermione crossed her arms and gave Bellatrix a challenging gaze.

"It's just so… so… muggle," Bellatrix shrugged.

Hermione bristled for a moment. "I'll have you know there were Grangers in the Battle of Hastings."

Bellatrix threw up her arms. "I don't even know what that is!"

"Grangers have been lawyers, officers in the Royal Navy, doctors, artists, politicians and scholars," said Hermione.

"Yes, but they weren't Blacks, now were they?" Bellatrix scoffed and looked the irate Hermione in the eye. "I don't understand why you're protesting so much. You might be given the chance to join the ancient and noble house of Black! You should be in awe!"

"God, you are such a snob!" Hermione huffed. "There'd be just as much honor in you becoming Bellatrix Granger as there is in me becoming Hermione Black!"

Bellatrix blinked once... twice. "Bellatrix Granger? Bellatrix GRANGER?! That sounds like a sneeze!"

Both lovers narrowed their eyes at each other, then turned to a giggling Andromeda. "We'll keep our own names," said Hermione.

"Good idea," added Bellatrix.

Andromeda wasn't done, however. "Hm, I suppose that's sorted. But what about your children? What name will they have?"

Bellatrix thought for a moment. " Black-Granger," she nodded. A concession in itself.

Of course, an irate Hermione did not agree. "Why not Granger-Black?"

The dark-haired witch bristled. How could someone as smart as Hermione be so dense?! "Because it's not alphabetical, it sounds all wrong!" Bellatrix snarled.

Andie's giggles turned into a gale of laughter. "Oh my, oh my," she managed in between gasps of breath. "You really should get married. You already bicker like an old married couple."

"WE DO NOT!" Hermione and Bellatrix blurted out at the same time.

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes suspiciously when Andromeda sat up a little straighter and a serious expression appeared on her face. She knew her sister long enough to suspect she was going to say something that would be terribly embarrassing for her. "Hermione," Andie started. "I'm so happy that you're a part of Bella's life."

Bellatrix sighed inwardly, fearing the bollocks to come.

"Did Bella ever tell you about our mother's funeral?" Andie spoke so softly it was almost a whisper.

Bellatrix shook her head. "Andie, Hermione really doesn't need to hear..."

"Hush, Bella," Andie placated her gently but firmly. "It happened more than a decade ago, after our mother died. Now, Bella was just exiled, but our parents cut off all ties with me for marrying Ted. I was considered a blood-traitor, but that didn't stop me from loving and mourning my mother."

"I can't imagine what that would be like," Bellatrix heard Hermione say, her voice filled with sympathy for her sister. "You'd think parents would want nothing more than their children to be happy."

Andromeda nodded briefly. "Muggle luxuries, Ted always used to say. I took Nymphadora, who was ten years old at the time, with me to the funeral of the grandmother she had never known and asked Bellatrix to go with me."

"I wasn't originally even planning on going," Bellatrix explained. "Ted wanted to support Andie, but we decided it was better if he wouldn't go."

Andromeda nodded and continued her story. "I remember it was raining cats and dogs when we arrived at the family graveyard, and so many of my mother's extended family and acquaintances were there, all pure-bloods. The stares they gave me and Nymphadora chilled me to the bones. Father was there. He... he wouldn't even look at us."

A pained expression turned into a smile. "And then Bellatrix steps forward, and shoots them a look so foul that it cowed everybody there. She didn't say a word, but her expression spoke volumes: 'They have every right to be here. They are my family. And if you so much as look at them in a wrong way, I will kill you where you stand'. Really, it was a sad occasion because our mother had died, but a happy occasion at the same time because it brought the three of us closer together."

Bellatrix had tried to drown out most of the story by groaning loudly and burying her head in her hands, hoping that the embarrassment would go away. It didn't. It seemed Hermione was hanging from Andie's lips; she blamed herself, really. She wasn't someone who liked to talk about her feelings.

"I said three of us because Cissy broke away from the crowd and stood next to us. I thought Lucius was going to have a heart-attack! Especially when Draco joined us."

"Wait?" Hermione blinked. "Malfoy did that?"

Andie smiled at the memory. "He must have been six years old and, to be fair, probably didn't really know what was going on. All he saw were people he didn't know giving his mother and his aunt dirty looks and he wanted to help. He stood next to Bellatrix, crossed his arms just like her and tried to mimic her expression. It was just so cute. Especially when Dora did the same."

Hermione seemed quite incredulous about it, but Bellatrix was glad for a chance to change the subject. "He's a good lad, pet," said Bellatrix. "You should give him a chance."

"Oh, like he gave me a chance?" Hermione suddenly bristled. "He's been a thorn in my side ever since I've met him. He's insulted me, humiliated me every chance he got."

Bellatrix sighed: she had been trying to get Hermione and Draco to talk for months now, but there had just been too much bad blood between them. In fact, Bellatrix was the only reason why the two were acting somewhat resembling cordial towards each other. Still, Bellatrix wasn't about to give up.

"Oi," smiled Andromeda. "Don't change the subject, Bella. We were talking about your kind-hearted nature, not about Draco."

"Bloody hell, Andie," Bellatrix hissed.

Andie was relentless, however. "Bella and Cissy were the first ones I told about Ted. Bella yelled at me for ten minutes for, well, being stupid. You see, Bella had been exiled four years earlier and knew from experience how difficult it had been for her. She just didn't want me to go through the same thing. But as soon as it became obvious that I was determined to marry Ted, she hugged me tightly and told me that it wouldn't matter if our parents would consider me a blood-traitor for marrying 'that inferior mudblood' and that she'd help me get through it. Bella did not like Ted, though. Oh, no, she didn't like Ted one bit. Bella didn't think he was worthy of me and it took a long time for her to accept him. I'm just glad Cissy followed Bella's example. I couldn't bear the thought of losing both my sisters."

"Ugh," Bellatrix twiddled her thumbs uncomfortably. "Look at the time, Andie. Shouldn't you be buggering off home? I'm sure Ted is waiting for you."

Andromeda completely ignored her and continued telling tales to Hermione. "She's always been like that, you see? Ever since we were little. When her annoying little sisters ran into her room crying, Bella was always the one to come back to our room to chase away the monsters from underneath our beds. You see, Hermione, Bella is a very loving person. Oh, she hides it with black humour, anger and her gruff behaviour, but in the end of the day, Bella will go through thick and thin for those few people she cares about."

Bellatrix couldn't take it anymore. "Andie, you're giving me far too much credit. I just... I just wanted to..."

"Belle," said Hermione. "I don't remember much of my ordeal at St. Mungo's, but I do remember that you were there for me, every single day. Few people would do that for someone else. Andie's right, Belle, you are a loving person."

"Argh!" Bellatrix hissed through clenched teeth as she balled her fists and punched down upon the cushions of the couch. "Are you twoquitedone?!"

"Not quite yet," Andie said. "Bella, you deserve someone who loves you. Someone who makes you happy."

"Ah! Shut up! SHUT UP!" Bellatrix hissed, stormed off the couch and rushed into the kitchen to get a glass of water. The dark witch jammed a glass under the faucet and drank the contents in one go. She slammed down the glass and just stood at the counter, taking a few deep breaths.

"Hey," sounded Hermione as she came into kitchen and put a hand on Bellatrix's shoulder. There was concern in her voice. "We didn't mean to upset you. We were just singing your praises."

Bellatrix smiled back. "It's not that, I... I think this undercover operation is getting to me. I'm pretending to be someone I'm not, but someone I could have been. Does that make any sense?"

"I think I know what you mean," said Hermione as she put her head on Bellatrix's shoulder.

"I keep thinking about the young people at the Front rallies, not the other losers, but... the kids," said Bellatrix. "Young, impressionable, and being used by unscrupulous people for their own gain. I can't help but think about myself when I was that age. I keep thinking that, what if someone charismatic had come along around that time and used me for his own gain? My life would have likely have been very different, and I doubt it would have been for the better."

Hermione wrapped her arms around her waist and parked her chin on Bellatrix's shoulder. "I know you, Belle. You wouldn't..."

"You know menow," Bellatrix snapped. "You didn't know methen. I was young, stupid and looking for purpose."

Hermione said nothing when Bellatrix picked up a small mirror and looked at it intently. "I was raised to believe that muggleborns and half-bloods were the worst kind of filth. In fact, sometimes still feel it's... surreal for the two of us to be together."

"Belle..." Hermione started.

Bellatrix held up her hands, stopping any discussion until she'd be finished talking. "I wonder, what if I had relented and married Rodolphus. Would I be like him now? Would I have hated you?" Bellatrix whispers before she took the mirror and looked into it. "Who am I? Who am I, really?"

"Belle," said Hermione. "You are who you are. You can't worry about what did or did not happen in the past. We are all defined by our choices, yes, but once the choice has been made, there's nothing you can do about it, other than hoping you've made the right one. Choices and consequences."

Bellatrix thought back to Dumbledore's words in his office so long ago. True, there was no point in pondering about what could have been, especially now that she was standing in a house that she owned, next to a girlfriend whom she loved and a sister she adored still sitting in the living room. "In many ways, bloody purity is more of a burden than it is a boon," Bellatrix snorted. "I just hope this mission ends soon and life can go back to normal. Sorry for transforming into a spineless sap for a moment there."

"It's alright. Shall we return to the living room?" Hermione asked. "Andromeda is probably getting worried."

"Sure," Bellatrix replied. "But no more singing of the praises or I swear I'll flee to the Leaky Cauldron to drink myself stupid."

"Deal."

Chapter 9: The mole

Chapter Text

The next day, Rodolphus wasn't at the lodge and, subsequently, Bellatrix had some trouble making progress with her investigation. Unlike Rodolphus, the other people of the inner circle were a lot more guarded. As such, she didn't want to push her luck and make too bold an inquiry which could potentially risk her cover. She gathered that any implicating evidence would be located in the office area she had seen when first entering, but she found that she was simply being too closely watched to sneak off towards it. An earlier attempt almost ended badly: Bellatrix had excused herself to powder her nose in the lady's room, only to find that she had been followed and one of the lady witches had been in her vicinity the entire time she was away from the main hall. It was true; she was not yet trusted enough by the inner circle.

Undoubtedly, this was Umbridge's doing. There were wiser people than Rodolphus in the Front. Well, a den of criminals they may be, but criminals, especially organized ones, were never quite as stupid as they looked.

So rather than risk her cover, she decided to study the layout of the building and keep an eye open for possible entry-points for the aurors who would eventually raid the place to at least get something out of the day. Frustrated and desperate to pump at least somewhat resembling information for her mission, she struck up a pleasant conversation with the only other person who showed her some reasonable amount of trust: Dolohov. Bellatrix had to admit she found him to be a charming and witty conversationalist.

Oh, he absolutely wanted to shag her. But at least he was a great bit more subtle about it than Lestrange had ever been. She had even tried to coax some details about his questionable line of work out of him, but Dolohov was guarded enough and pleasantly changed the subject whenever Bellatrix brought it up. Still, an interrogation was all about letting the other party do the talking, goading them into giving away pertinent information along the way. Unlike at the precinct, she wasn't in any position of power here, so she had to be careful. Subtle.

"Truly," shrugged Dolohov. "It's not something worth talking about. Let me ask you a question, though."

Bellatrix was admittingly intrigued. "Oh?"

"Why do you think I'm here?"

That was indeed an interesting question. She decided to play it carefully, as she was the newest member. "To work towards a pure and powerful wizarding world?" There. A neutral answer.

Dolohov smirked and let out a barring laugh. "No, no. No," Dolohov chuckled. "That's a slogan, not a reason. Besides, I doubt any of us are here for that, including you."

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "Whyareyou here, then?"

"Galleons, of course!" Dolohov winked. "Look around you. Look at the types of people here. What do you see?"

The dark witched decided to play along for now. "I see a lot of pure-blood wizards chatting, drinking and occasionally abusing a mudblood."

"Look further than that," chuckled Dolohov. "Are these the kind of people you'd suspect to be the elite of a pure-blood supremacy group?"

Honestly, they weren't. It was an observation Bellatrix had made the previous day and only saw it confirmed today. "I would say," Bellatrix replied softly, "that the traditional pure-blood families are rather under-represented."

"Very astute," grinned Dolohov. "In fact, if you ask a member of one of those 'traditional' families their opinion on the Front, you will not get a favourable answer. I wonder why that is, hm? Why doyouthink that is?"

"Because most of the people here are looking out for their own profit and advancement?" Bellatrix tried.

Dolohov laughed briefly. "I knew you were more intelligent than the average mook here. Most of the people gathered here are businessmen, of a sort. Businessmen who stand to gain money and power from the network the Front has created. We... we help each other, if you understand my meaning. Take my friend Bernard over there. Bernard owns a shipping company which seems, on the surface, to be a perfectly legitimate business. However, it is him you go to when you want items to, well, disappear and re-appear somewhere else without prying eyes peeking in. He also stands to gain a lot of money if certain laws favouring pure-blood businesses were re-instated, as his competition is owned by mudbloods. Everybody here has a story like that."

"What about those two?" Bellatrix pointed at the Carrows.

"Hm," Dolohov snickered. "They are, how do you English say? Tweedle-dumb and Tweedle-dumber? Every syndicate like ours has people like them. sad*stic dimwits who do the heavy lifting and necessary dirty-work, but are also convenient patsies if the need calls for it."

"Lucius?" said Bellatrix.

Dolohov co*cked his head to one side. "Someone who stuck around too long."

Bellatrix took note of the cryptic reply. "What's your opinion on Rodolphus?"

"Someone who's started to believe in the sound of his own hot air," laughed Dolohov. "That's what the Front peddles, dear Bellatrix. Those people outside? Lonely people looking for a place to belong, to blame others for their misfortune or simply seek like-minded company. Some of them might even believe the Front is here to make the world a better place. In here, however, blood-purity is secondary to profit. The only exceptions to this rule are Rodolphus and Umbridge, though many suspect Umbridge isn't even a pure-blood. Oh, she claims Selwyn lineage, but I've yet to see it confirmed. Not that it matters. She's high enough in the Ministry pecking order that most of us don't care about it."

"Hypocrisy," Bellatrix chuckled. "Why am I not surprised?"

"You might have noticed a touch of jealousy in her dealings with you."

Bellatrix blinked when realized just what Dolohov was saying. "No!" she hissed. "Rodolphus and... Umbridge?!" The mental images alone were enough to give her nightmares for weeks to come.

"And why not?" Dolohov took a sip from his wine. "It wouldn't be the first time that two people had a relationship based purely on convenience. Umbridge took it more seriously, though. She was quite upset when he started dallying with young female hopefuls wanting to become part of the inner circle. I hope you won't give up your virtues as easily, dear Bellatrix."

"Not a chance," she scoffed. "Tell me, Antonin. You seem to be very observant. What do you see when you look at me?"

"Honestly," said Dolohov. "I haven't known you long enough to get an accurate picture, but I can tell you this; you are a very dangerous woman. Possibly someone who wants to move up in this world, improve her life. I've read your reaction when you saw the mudbloods being dragged out. I don't think you're as fanatical as you are pretending to be. Don't worry, I won't, how do you say... tattle? We are all pretending to be someone else here."

Bellatrix was taken aback; Dolohov was absolutely dangerous and she should be careful that he wouldn't poke a hole right through her cover. "You... don't approve?"

Antonin fell silent and leaned forward, speaking softly. "The mudbloods have outlived their usefulness. Lestrange should have the common courtesy to end their miserable existence. Instead... decadence. Keeping them around is an unnecessary risk. Hubris is going to our downfall."

"Does the Front actually have a leader? So far I have seen no one who would fill that role."

"Has Rodolphus tried to impress you with his ambitions yet," Dolohov smirked.

The dark-haired witch offered a wry grin. "Pretty much the first thing out of his mouth the moment we stepped through the door. Dark Lord Lestrange."

"Hah!" Dolohov chuckled. "We mostly ignore his vainglorious proclamations. He thinks he's more than the rest of us because he maintains our network. Truth is, he wouldn'thavea network to maintain without us. Bellatrix, you would be wise to detach yourself from him. You used him to get in, that is fine. Very… Slytherin of you? Was it Slytherin I am thinking of, or Ravenclaw?"

"Slytherin," Bellatrix confirmed. "I take it you never attended Hogwarts?"

He shook his head. "Grotter academy in Moscow. The place where the witches fly around on a double bass. In any case, you could be of great value to many of us. You are in a position to influence murder investigations and there are a lot of people here who like the idea of getting away with murder. People who'd be very, very grateful for your assistance. Again, fair Bellatrix, detach yourself from Rodolphus Lestrange as quickly as you can. He is a small man with a small mind. He is beneath you as he is beneath most of us. You play by your wits and your tricks... like you're doing now. You've charmed a lot of free information out of me. I say you're going to fit right in."

Bellatrix was momentarily startled at having been caught, but was careful not to show it. Apparently, she hadn't been as subtle as she thought she had been.

There was just one person left to talk to.

Lucius.

He had came in rather late today while she had been talking with Dolohov and, just like yesterday, only gave some basic greetings before nursing a drink at a table far away from any of the muggle-born slaves. Bellatrix excused herself from Dolohov to talk to Lucius.

Without saying a word, she sat down at the table. "Oh," said Lucius. "It's you."

"Yes," said Bellatrix. "Me. We haven't spoken for a while, Lucius."

"What's to be said," shrugged Lucius. "Cissy is..."

"Perhaps we should catch up in private," Bellatrix said. "I hear the Gilded Veela is a nice place."

"You should know," Lucius snorted. "The three of you go there regular..."

Bellatrix cut him off with a harsh glare, mentally telling him to stop what he was about to say and play along. Thankfully, Lucius was a smart enough man to catch the hint. "Come to think," said Lucius. "The Gilded Veela is quite far out of Andromeda's price-range, so I suppose I was mistaken."

As soon as Bellatrix and Lucius stood up, Dolohov was upon them. "Leaving so soon already, fair Bellatrix?" Dolohov spoke. "I must admit I am disappointed. I do hope you will return tomorrow?"

"Definitely," said Bellatrix. "My brother-in-law and I have some catching up to do. Besides, it is my sister's birthday soon and Lucius had the wonderful idea to host a birthday ball for her. I suppose we should work out the details."

"Hm, indeed," nodded Lucius.

Dolohov accepted the answer and said his goodbyes. "Well, I hope you could coax some life out of old pole-face Malfoy. He's been dreadful company as of late."

As the Gilded Veela was only a few streets away from the Purity Front Lodge, Lucius and Bellatrix quickly found their way there. Though the two of them walked together in silence, Bellatrix could tell the man was relieved to be away from the lodge. The silence continued after they entered the upper class cafe and there was initial awkwardness when Lucius and Bellatrix sat in a quiet area of the cafe, near a window where they could see shoppers mull about outside. "Well," Lucius started, breaking the ice. "I see you are well. Perhaps..."

Bellatrix shook her head. "Let's not beat around the bush any more than necessary.Youare Pius' mole..."

Lucius' mouth was agape for a moment, much like a fish on dry land. He immediately pulled out his wand, putting Bellatrix on the defensive. However, Bellatrix was not the target, as Lucius started, in a quite a paranoid fashion, to scan the area of the cafe for unexpected magical signals.

"Don't bother. The only listening charm in this cafe is mine," said Bellatrix. "And it's not currently listening."

"Bellatrix, do you realize what danger you have put me in?" Lucius hissed. "How did you know it was me?"

"Simple," Bellatrix shrugged. "You know I am with Hermione and you didn't give the game away."

"That might just me giving you a pass because you are family," Lucius challenged.

"True," said Bellatrix, "but you might want to work on your acting skills. You looked as if you really didn't want to be there."

Lucius bristled for a moment. "Saw that, didn't you?"

"So tell me something. Blood status is important to you. Why turn mole?"

The fair-haired wizard crossed his arms. "You're the detective. You tell me."

"Very well," Bellatrix studied him for a moment. "I could go for the typical angles; who knows what sort of deal you've made with the ministry to increase your political clout. You'll look like a hero for even making the effort, after all. Whether we botch up the operation or not, you will win anyway, provided your involvement never becomes public. There's other, more mundane reasons to name; you have large investments in certain shops, perhaps even this very cafe. Half-bloods and muggleborns buy things, Lucius, and they outnumber us at least thirty to one. You stand to lose a lot of money if the Front's plans ever come to fruition."

Lucius seemed to relax somewhat. "Do you really think that lowly of me?"

"No. Though I am reasonably certain both of those reasons did play a role in making your decision, they are not the main reason for it."

"Oh?" Lucius smirked. "How do you figure that?"

"Because you just confirmed it yourself with your very question," said Bellatrix. "I'm the detective here, remember?"

Lucius looked irritated for a moment. "Really? You immediately went to mundane reasons like power and money. It can't be about loyalty? It can't be about doing what is right for the wizarding world?"

Bellatrix shook her head. "Sounds like you've been rationalizing. But it runs deeper, I can tell. What the Purity Front is doing is bothering you."

Lucius grit his teeth. "Why would you think it doesn't?!" he hissed. "All their actions are geared towards destabilizing the Ministry. You have no idea what they are asking me to do for them! They trade magic items to muggles! They're nothing but criminals! Have you not seen how they treat those... those..." Lucius looked away, shaking his head as he did so.

"... those poor muggleborns," Bellatrix finished for him.

A torrent of emotions crossed Lucius' face. Anger, shame, pridefulness, fear... but eventually, outrage won out. He slammed his fist on the table, attracting some attention from other patrons. "Those people are monsters!" he hissed, but withdrew when he realized what he had just said.

"Well, well, well," Bellatrix mocked. "Lucius Malfoy, a decent human being. Who would have thought it?"

Lucius bristled. "You are a dangerous woman, Bellatrix Black. Not to mention annoying as all hell!"

The dark-haired witch shrugged. "Questioning people is all about getting others to talk, Lucius. You did most of my job for me."

"That's not what I meant," said Lucius. "You used to worship blood purity, more than I ever did. What's happened to you?"

"Getting exiled was the setup," Bellatrix said. "Being with Hermione was the finisher."

"I suppose."

"What changedyou?"

Lucius shook his head. "Other people's excesses," he said. "The kind of excesses that make you think. Pure-bloods are superior, Bellatrix, no matter what your mudblood girlfriend has led you to believe. Purity is an ideal, pure-bloods should be proud. But... not like this. I don't want my son and my grandchildren to live in a world that's being run by a crime syndicate!"

Bellatrix sipped her cola for a moment, before continuing to press Lucius. "How did you get involved with the Front in the first place?"

Lucius sighed. "The Front wasn't always like this. Back in the days it was just a pro pure-blood rights social club. We had an inner circle back then as well, mostly it just consisted of very rich pure-bloods like myself. Nothing fancy, just a group of like-minded people coming together to enjoy each other's company and perhaps do a little networking. I've made some of the best business deals of my career in that very room!"

"What changed?" Bellatrix asked.

"Umbridge became a member. And later Lestrange. They gave the Front a new focus, a new direction," said Lucius. "Suddenly it wasn't a social club anymore. They brought in all kinds of new people. Pure-bloods, certainly, but pure-bloods with shady connections and even shadier moral fiber. Then came the bribes, all this 'invisible war' nonsense. And the criminal activities. Outwardly, the Front was getting more radical by the day. Oh, if you ask anyone of the circle about it directly, they'll give you a vainglorious statement about blood purity, but it's all about power, profit and control. "

"You joined a social club for rich c*nts," Bellatrix snorted. "All that blood-purity talk is a load of old tosh. It's all about deals and money in the end, until the social club for rich c*nts because a crime syndicate run like a pyramid scheme. And the rich c*nts running the show became decadent enough to think they can do everything they want."

"You have the right of it," Lucius sighed.

"Did you attempt to get out?" Bellatrix asked.

Lucius grimaced. "I was, well, strongly advised against it. For my family's sake."

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes, a dangerous light shining from them. "Did they threaten Cissy? Draco? You?" she hissed in anger. Nobody threatened her family and got away with it.

"Like I said," Lucius sighed. "I wasstronglyadvised. t was a gamble to confide in Pius, a gamble which seems to be paying off. The moment I heard Lestrange mention your name, I knew it was you whom Pius had sent to investigate the Front. You're a good choice, considering your family name and your past. I have to give Pius more credit, he's smarter than he looks. I half expected him to send in some bumbling auror baboon who'd inevitably botch things up. Whatever our differences may be, Bellatrix, you're far more clever and devious to have made it so far so quickly. Far too clever for your own good."

"Because I found you out?"

Lucius let out a brief snort. "No. Because Lestrange is completely and utterly in love with you and you're exploiting that to no end. I've heard him curse the day he let you slip through his fingers."

"You approve?" asked Bellatrix.

"Let's put it this way," said Lucius. "If I had been betrothed to that wretch of a man, I'd probably have preferred exile too. Those mudblood slaves were his idea, you see? I think he enjoys the power he has over them. Aside from that, he's been mining their minds for information about the muggle world and what kind of enchanted items unscrupulous muggles would pay through the nose for."

Bellatrix nodded. "Most of the inner circle members are not strapped for cash. Why not just ask for donations?"

"Really, I thought you were smarter than that," Lucius said. "Because large transactions through Gringotts would be noticed, of course. The Front doesn't bribe their infiltrators through official channels. They have their own coffers, filled with gold gained through illegal sales."

The dark witch had to admit that Lucius had a good point. Still, she was uncertain just how much she could tell him. Obviously Pius kept him in the loop as much as he could, and giving away to much might do more harm than good. Instead, she just smiled and shook her head. "I suppose if I take down the Front, you will unban me from the manor?"

"You were never banned from the manor, Bellatrix. That was just Malfoy hot air," said Lucius. "Do you honestly think that Cissy will ever talk to me again if I'd ban you from the manor? Or Draco for that matter?"

"Does that mean Hermione and I can come by for dinner?" Bellatrix smirked.

The elder Malfoy sighed heavily. "I freely admit I'm in over my head. Get me out of this mess, and I'll host a banquet in your honour every weekend for the rest of your life. Feel free to bring your mudblood lover with you. In fact, I insist. I already owe you for helping Draco, might as well go all the way."

"Draco?" Bellatrix frowned. "I heard you're planning to marry him off to that Greengrass girl. How is that helping?"

"Please, do give me some credit," said Lucius. "I know of him and Pansy and I approve. But he's taking too much time and I was hoping to prod him along. A co-worker of mine told me the muggles have this quaint term to describe the situation he is in. 'Friendzone', I believe. Well, my poor son has been languishing in this 'friendzone' long enough."

"Clever," said Bellatrix. "But I can't take credit for advice Hermione gave. I'm sure she'll tell you all about it over dinner."

"If we are done here," said Lucius as he was getting up.

"One more thing, Lucius," Bellatrix said. "Just be careful. If I can figure out that you're a mole, someone else could as well. Cissy's too young to become a widow. Stay clear of Dolohov at the very least."

When Bellatrix got home after her debrief with Nymphadora, she found find Hermione sitting on the sofa with the Potter-boy, still in the planning stages for their friend Ron's birthday party. On the table in front of them were all manner of scrolls and lists, undoubtedly lists of things to buy for the party. The windows were open and on the dining table in the next room stood a big box filled with written on envelopes.

"Evening, pet, Harry," Bellatrix greeted.

Both Harry and Hermione looked up from their work to greet her.

"Whoa," said Harry as his eyes suddenly bulged from his skull. Bellatrix was still wearing her sexy dress, after all.

"Harry!" Hermione admonished, elbowing Harry in his side. "Honestly, what would Ginny say?"

"It's okay to look, innit?" Harry replied with a grin. "Besides, I'm pretty sure Ginny would say 'Blimey, she looks fantastic, Harry! You'd better get a really good eyeful of her while you have the chance'!"

Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but then fell quiet. "That...doessound like something Ginny would say, yes."

"Seriously... well done, Hermione," Harry laughed.

"Ugh, men," Hermione rolled her eyes.

Before Hermione could get too huffy, Bellatrix swooped in to claim her good evening kiss. Truth be told, she saw Potter's words as a compliment. It was quite gratifying to know that she could still turn the heads of boys not even half her age. Honestly, she had to admit she quite liked Harry; he was a good friend to Hermione and one of the first people to openly support their relationship.

"How's the auror training going, Harry?" Bellatrix asked as she took a seat in the reading chair opposite to the couch.

"Brutal," replied Harry. "Mad-eye Moody is driving us very hard. Halfway through the three year course now. Sirius says it will only get worse."

"Us regular plods have just a one year course," Bellatrix said. "I had to follow some sensitivity training sessions after joining Magical Homicides, though."

"Can't imagine that going over well," Harry said.

"Apparently saying, 'sorry, your husband is coming home with his head in a separate box' was considered to be insensitive," Bellatrix sighed. "I was only telling the truth."

"In your case, that's not always a good thing, Belle," Hermione smiled. "Diplomacy isn't exactly your strong suit."

Bellatrix ignored the barb and picked up one of the lists. On the list were all number of party favours, drinks and sweets to buy. "You are really putting work in for that birthday party next weekend. Well, you only turn twenty once, I suppose," Bellatrix nodded. "Might as well celebrate it in style. In less than six months, it'll be your turn in the spotlights, pet."

Hermione smiled warmly, first at Harry and then at Bellatrix. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Don't worry, Hermione, Ron and I will have your birthday bash covered. And you too, Bellatrix, if you'll help," said Harry.

Bellatrix snorted. "I'm not much of a party-person, but I'll send Andromeda in my place. She's a far better party-planner than I could ever be. As for my pet's birthday, I was thinking more along the lines of something quiet, romantic, away from prying eyes and preferably having a lovely fireplace with a soft rug in front of it."

"Right, too much information," Harry coughed.

Of course, Hermione knew that Bellatrix had been planning something, for the simple reason that she had to take a few days off work. Bellatrix had been setting a bit of money aside every month since the start of the year and when it would finally be September, she'd be able to rent a lovely wooden chalet in a snowy area for a couple of days to celebrate Hermione's twenty-first birthday. Romantic snow-filled fields and a cozy fireplace to make love in front of. It would be bliss.

"Ron is taking it rather easy," said Hermione. "I think he's quite enjoying the bachelor life-style. I hear mrs. Weasley is quite worried."

Harry smirked. "Well, you know that mrs. Weasley always thought you would be the one to marry Ron."

"Yes, well," Bellatrix chuckled. "Molly Weasley will have to learn to deal with disappointment, now doesn't she?"

At that moment, Harry's owl Hedwig came flying through the window, landed on the table, took a letter from the box in her beak and flew right off again. "We've been putting Hedwig and Horus to work to deliver the invitations," explained Hermione. "But I'm afraid it's going to take a while yet."

"It's a shame we can't use our patroni to deliver physical letters or we'd be done quite a bit faster," said Harry. "What was your patronus again, Hermione?"

"An otter," replied Hermione. "Yours was a stag if I recall."

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "Bellatrix, what is yours?"

Immediately, the dark witch froze in the middle of lifting her tea-cup to her mouth. She growled slightly and put the cup back down. "Let's not talk about that," she spoke with an icy edge on her voice.

Unfortunately, Harry was still thick enough not to take a hint. "Really, what's your patronus?"

A low growl became a heavy growl. "It's a skunk, alright?! A skunk! Bellatrix bloody Black's patronus is a bleedin' skunk! Everybody, let's all laugh at Bellatrix's awful excuse for a patronus! But don't look too closely or you might get sprayed! Oh, you go ahead and brag about your goddamn stag or your fancy otter, while I'm stuck with a bloody skunk!"

Harry blinked. "Touched a nerve, I think," he hissed uncomfortably through his teeth. "Seriously, Bellatrix, I wouldn't dare to laugh. Mostly because I fear castration," he said with a cheeky smile.

"Smart lad," Bellatrix laughed. Oh, yes, she definitely liked Harry.

Leaving Hermione and Harry to put the finishing touch on the party, Bellatrix was eager to shed her dress for today and take a nice long and very hot shower. After drying herself, she changed into comfortable clothes and went back downstairs. By that time, Harry had already left and Hermione was sitting at the writing desk, leaving Bellatrix to check the mailbox right next to the owlry for the evening mail.

Bellatrix was surprised to find a large blood-red box shaped like a heart with a pink ribbon tied around it in the mailbox. A note was attached to the ribbon. "Sincere apologies for not meeting you today. Please accept this small token of my affection for you. An unworthy gift for a gorgeous lady. -RL"

Disgusted that Rodolphus' vexing advances were now spilling over to her home-life, Bellatrix felt the overwhelming urge to crush the box underneath her slipper and hurl over the remains. But really, what had the nice chocolates inside done to deserve that harsh fate? And they certainly were very nice chocolates. She did a quick check with her wand to ensure that the chocolates didn't have a secret payload such as a love potion filling, and found the them to be completely clean.

At that moment, Hermione looked over her shoulder from the desk. "What's that, Belle?" she asked.

Bellatrix quickly stuffed the note in her pocket and smiled wickedly at having found another way to exploit Rodolphus for her own gain. "It's for you!" the dark witch announced cheerfully.

About fifteen minutes later, Bellatrix and Hermione were sitting on a soft rug near a freshly stoked warm fireplace, while leaning into a bunch of comfortable cushions. With one hand laying on Hermione's shapely hip, Bellatrix lazily leaned against the cushions while the young witch pressed into her and sleepily lay her head on her chest. Two glasses of wine stood near them, as the two witches enjoyed each other's closeness.

Hermione reached over to the now half eaten box of chocolates and picked up a choice piece. She reached over and gently fed it to Bellatrix. "Hm, nougat," she whispered. Before Hermione could withdraw, however, Bellatrix gently caught her hand. The proximity of the fire had caused the chocolate to go a bit melty, which was a perfect excuse to Bellatrix to lick the molten residue off Hermione's fingers. Her tongue flicked across Hermione's fingertips, gently taking one after the other into her mouth. The older witch was more than satisfied to hear Hermione's breath quicken ever so slightly. When she was done, the dark witch gently kissed the back of her hand. In response, Hermione pressed against her and wrapped an arm around her waist. Mission accomplished.

"Oh, moments like these are what makes life great," Hermione whispered. "Do you ever think about the future, Belle?"

"I don't care what the future brings," said Bellatrix. "As long as you're in it, pet. That's all that matters to me."

"Careers? Family? Children?" Hermione whispered, her eyes closed.

Children?!

"Hold on a moment," said Bellatrix. "Where did that come from?"

Hermione shifted to look Bellatrix in the eye. "You don't want children?"

Bellatrix snorted. "I'm not exactly the maternal type."

"Come now," said Hermione. "Andromeda said you were great with Nymphadora when she was a toddler."

"Great with Dora?!" Bellatrix replied. "I dropped her! Several times!"

"Andromeda said those were an accidents," Hermione laughed briefly before leaning into her again.

"Don't grow up too fast, pet," said Bellatrix. "You're just a few months away from turning twenty-one."

"I suppose you're right," said Hermione. "There's plenty of time."

Bellatrix shrugged. "Besides, if you really want to know what it's like to be a mum, we could probably hire a kid from the orphanage. You could probably get a good feel if you're ready or not in a week or two."

Hermione blinked for a moment. "Rental orphans?!"

"Sure, why not?" Bellatrix smirked. "Getting a kid is a rather impactful life-choice. They must have a try-before-you-buy option."

Hermione froze for a moment... and then suddenly jabbed Bellatrix playfully in the stomach. "God, you're horrible!"

"And don't you forget it," Bellatrix chuckled and kissed Hermione on the forehead. "Tell you what, let's get this house finished first before we even consider starting a family."

"Probably a good idea," Hermione once again settled against Bellatrix.

"I love you, Hermione," said Bellatrix with all the sincerity in the world.

"I love you too, Belle," Hermione spoke softly. "I can't imagine living without you. I have just one question."

"Hm?"

"Is your patronus really a skunk?"

"Honestly?" growled Bellatrix. "Do you really want to talk about that now?! Ugh, fine! When we were practicing summoning our patroni and that damn thing appeared... I was absolutely humiliated. But, I made sure that every single person who laughed at me paid the price for their mistake."

"I only bring it up because strong emotional shifts such as falling in love can change your patronus," said Hermione while she gave Bellatrix her wand. "Try it," she spoke softly.

Against her better judgment, Bellatrix took Hermione's wand and concentrated on happy thoughts to prepare the summoning. Considering she was lying in front of a cozy fire, in her own home and holding the woman she loved, she didn't have far to go. "Expecto Patronum," whispered Bellatrix.

Magical energy shot out, causing a blue translucent animal to appear in their living room. "Nope," said Bellatrix. "Still a skunk."

"But... " Hermione blinked in a flustered fashion, causing Bellatrix to grin wickedly.

"You were expecting an otter to appear, weren't you?" the dark witch said while gently tickling Hermione's side, causing her to squirm a little. When the implication hit Hermione, she blanched slightly and snatched her wand back from Bellatrix's hand.

"Expecto Patronum!" cast Hermione with a hint of desperation.

Sure enough, a second translucent skunk appeared right next to the other one.

"Oh, that's just marvellous!" Hermione exclaimed in horror when she realized what had happened to her otter.

A giggle turned into a laugh. Soon Bellatrix's entire body was shaking while tears from laughter rolled over her cheeks. "Feel my pain, Hermione! Feel my pain!"

"You know what?" Hermione huffed. "I don't care. I don't care that my patronus has changed into a skunk. Because it's your skunk. And I can't be embarrassed by something that is a part of you."

Bellatrix frowned and studied Hermione's expression carefully. It led her to a single and definite conclusion. "Pet, you are such a bloody liar!"

An almost petulant pout became etched on Hermione's gentle features. Indeed, cute as a button. "You're right. Skunks are horrible! I want my otter back!"

Hermione grumbled for a moment, then assumed her old position by laying her cheek on Bellatrix's chest, pressing her warm body against her. "Hold me?" she asked in a tiny voice while her cheeks were being tickled by the lengths of Bellatrix's dark curls. "I need comforting."

"Always, pet," Bellatrix gently kissed the top of her head. "Always."

While the two witches held on to each other in front of the fire, both translucent skunks fell asleep right next to each other.

Chapter 10: Hostage situation

Chapter Text

Once again in the Dartford safe-house, Nymphadora and Bellatrix were discussing strategy, preparations for the eventual raid on the Front's lodge. Based on Bellatrix's observations, she and Nymphadora had drawn up a map of the entire lodge. Every additional visit allowed them to fill in further details, though there were still some blanks considering Bellatrix wasn't allowed full access to every area yet. Regardless, what they did know allowed for finding the best entry points.

"We'll need at least two squads," said Nymphadora as she pointed at the map. "To get to the inner sanctum through the hidden passge the squad will have to go through the front entrance and the main hall first. That'll definitely get the attention of the inner circle."

"I didn't see any other secret passages in or out," Bellatrix said. "But I suppose that's rather the point. There's anti-apparation charms all over the lodge. I've detected at least five. They don't like people getting in, that's for certain."

"That'll actually work in our favour," said Nymphadora. "We can't apparate in, but none of the suspects can apparate out either."

"Therehaveto be alternate escape routes," said Bellatrix. "The criminals running the Front are paranoid by nature. You'll need to send in a second hit squad in through the windows at the same time as you send in the primary squad. You'll catch them by surprise and cut off their escape at the same time."

Nymphadora put her hand to her chin. "And by sending in a hit squad through the windows, we'll be able to prevent any of the inner circle taking hostages. We really don't want to turn this into a hostage situation."

Bellatrix nodded. "Toss in a few Flipendo's to take them by surprise. Get in quick and take them down while they're confused."

"Tricky, but doable."

They were both startled out of their concentration to hear ticking against the window of the shack. A cursory glance revealed that it was a white snow-owl, unmistakably Potter's, waiting for one of them to come over to the window to fetch the message in her beak.

"You know that owl?"

"I've seen her before," said Bellatrix as she opened the window and took the letter while Hedwig dutifully waited for a reply. "Hmmm," was Bellatrix's response after reading the letter.

"What is it?"

"A letter from Hermione's friend Harry. You should know him, he's an auror trainee. He and Hermione were supposed to meet to buy snacks and party favours for their friend's birthday party, but she hasn't shown up yet. He asks me if I know where Hermione is."

"Oh?" Nymphadora asked. "Problem? The auror I tasked to watch Hermione hasn't reported anything out of the ordinary. Trust me, as soon as something happens to her, I'll know about it."

"That's what I figured, "Bellatrix shrugged. "Hermione would be going to the Leaky Cauldron first. One of her classmates owns it now and she was going to ask if she could leave pamphlets and hang up her petition there. She likely got sidetracked along the way. You know how Hermione can be."

There was nothing to worry about, really. Bellatrix surmised that her opinionated young girlfriend might have gotten into a heated argument with someone who disagreed with her petition. She wrote Harry a quick note to look for Hermione at the Leaky Cauldron and gave it to Hedwig to carry back to him.

"Right," Nymphadora smirked. "Ready to go back into the lion's den, auntie? All these preparations mean nothing unless you secure us that evidence first."

Bellatrix smirked back. "Oh, don't worry. I've got a good feeling about today."

About half an hour later, kitted out in her dress and with her magical hairclip set to record, Bellatrix once again entered the Purity Front's lodge. By now the doorman was quite familiar with her, if not still a little cowed into submission since their first meeting. There was quite a crowd in today because there was apparently some sort of anniversary celebration going on. The dark-haired witch wasted no time and made her way past the gathered youth in the main hall and headed right for the entrance to the inner sanctum.

To her surprise, there was someone waiting for her there; the house-elf who normally tended the bar had been ordered to rush her to the office-area where 'master Lestrange' was waiting for her. This presented an opportunity, since the office-area was just about the largest blank on the map back at the safe-house. She was sure to keep her eyes open, taking notes of entrances, exits, doors and corridors as she followed the house-elf. The office itself was an open floor plan with a few cubicles here and there. The private offices for the higher ranked staff were off to the side, Rodolphus' office being one of them.

If the theory was true that the state of an office desk represented the state of mind of the person sitting behind it, then Rodolphus would be a very scatter-brained individual indeed. The entire office was filled to the brim with papers, books and ledgers, scattered over the place rather than being filed away in the pristine and untouched cabinets which lined the side wall. Several stuffed and mounted magical creatures were on display, and a stuffed moose head was being used as a coat rack. Rodolphus was his usual self, clad in black and offering her that same lecherous smile he always did. And the cologne. Oh, sweet Merlin, that horrible cologne. As soon as this mission would be over, she'd have to have her nose fumigated.

"Ah, Bella," he stood up, took her hand and gently kissed it. "My humblest apologies for not attending yesterday and leaving you to Dolohov's devices."

"I'm not sure if I should forgive you," Bellatrix smirked outwardly, but cringed inwardly. "A lady needs her attention, after all. What was the cause of your absence?"

"That idiot Muggle dictator running Wadiya," growled Rodolphus, rubbing his forehead as if reliving a foul memory. "He thought it would be funny to shoot my middle-man on a whim with one of the weapons. There were bits of him spread all over the wall. I had to go there myself to finish up the deal; that man is an even bigger idiot in person than he is through his correspondence. He apparently changed both positive and negative words in his language to his own name. Makes for rather confusing reading, let me tell you."

Bellatrix didn't really give a wit about Rodolphus' problems, but had to admit that the Front worked fast; the weapons had already been sold mere days after being given out. The Ministry would have to work in conjunction with local authorities to get them back and obliviate every Muggle whom had been 'in the know' as it were. But those were, thankfully, problems for other people to solve.

"My dear Bella," Rodolphus smiled wolfishly. "It would be my great honour to have you accompany me to the anniversary ball this evening."

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "I have heard from the door-man that today was an anniversary of a sort, but I am unclear as to what you are celebrating."

"Ah, of course, my apologies," said Rodolphus. "Sometimes I forget that you are a recent member. Today marks the day that the Front was founded fifteen years ago. Certainly cause for a celebration; the Front is stronger than it's ever been and its future is bright. Our goal of pure-blood rule is within reach."

"Very well, I shall be your date to this evening, if you so insist," replied Bellatrix, thinking on how ironic it would be if the Front should be raided and shuttered this very evening.

"You have just made me a very happy man, Bella," Rodolphus chuckled and stepped forward. His face hovered close to hers as he reach out and lifted her chin slightly. "And perhaps, once I have give you your gift, you shall reward me by staying with me tonight, for a more private celebration. Just the two of us. Alone in our boudoir."

"We shall see," Bellatrix purred, all the while fighting her revulsion of his breath on her skin. Merlin, give her a bloated corpse from the Thames over this any day of the week.

"Let me just get your gift for you," said Rodolphus.

"It's not here?" Bellatrix asked.

"Just wait," Rodolphus grinned as he turned towards the door. "I'll be back in just a few moments. Trust me, Bella, you're going to love it!"

And just like that, he left her.

Alone.

In his office.

With all his most sensitive documents.

Bellatrix couldn't help but smile to herself. This was the lucky break she had been waiting for. Wasting no time, Bellatrix slipped the ornate buckle off her belt and started duplicating documents left and right: ledgers, letters, correspondence, everything that seemed more or less relevant. There were lists of contacts, with detailed information of bribes, records of illegal trafficking, records of extortion, illegal money laundering, future plans for infiltration in the government. This would be everything that Pius would need to purge the Ministry and more.

Damning, damning evidence. And backed up by her hairclip's many recordings, nobody would be able to weasel out any of it.

After putting the duplicated items back around the office roughly where she had found them, she slid the original items in a satchel, shrunk the entire container and placed it in a secret compartment of her buckle. None would be the wiser. What added to her mirth was that a cursory glance had revealed that Rodolphus had been skimming large sums of money off the profits from the sale of illegal items. For all of his bluster about pure-blood ideals, he certainly had no qualms about stealing from his own allies.

Bellatrix had the evidence that was needed and more. Mostly out of curiosity, Bellatrix waved her wand, revealing several charms in his office which would incinerate all the papers in case of a breach. So, Nymphadora had been right to hold off with the raid, but could now go forward with it, clap everybody into irons, seize any remaining illegal goods, free the slaves and life could get back to normal. Bellatrix led out a sigh of relief; no more cloak and dagger, no more pretending to be someone she's not, no more Rodolphus Lestrange pawing at her. No more horrible cologne. Ever.

From now on, it'd be only nice, simple murder investigations. She'd be keeping the hair, though. Still, she'd ask Dora if she could be part of the raid; it would be wonderful to see the look on his face when she'd be the one to arrest him. Soon enough, Rodolphus returned. There was no box in his hands or something similar. When Bellatrix shot him a questioning look, he looked to one side and shouted to someone outside the office.

"Step forward, filth!" he shouted. "That'll be your new name. 'Filth'. It suits you perfectly."

Immediately, a female figure appeared, wearing the same sort of ratty burlap outfit that the muggleborn slaves were wearing. A black sack covered her head and most of her upper body. Panic gripped her by the throat when she recognized the form.

No.

No.

Denial was an illusion she desperately held on to.

It's not her! It can't be her!

As the figure stepped forward, Rodolphus kicked her in the back of the legs, causing her to yelp and fall down to her knees. A very familiar yelp.

No. No. No.

Bellatrix did her best to keep her expression neutral, but didn't know how long that would last.

It can't be her! She's being watched by the aurors! She is protected!

"I was thinking about what you said," Rodolphus said. "You said how much you wished to punish the one mudblood that got away from you. Well, here's your chance."

No. No. No. No. No.

"I give you the gift of your very own pet mudblood, to do with as you see fit," he said cheerfully, and yanked the hood of her head. Every last straw of hope she grasped at was ripped from her.

She was looking in the tearful eyes of her own beloved Hermione.

"Meet your new mistress, Filth," Rodolphus snarled at Hermione. At that point, Bellatrix wanted to kill Rodolphus in the most painful and messy way she could imagine. First, she would remove all his fingers one by one with a blunt pair of rusted hedgeclippers. Then, she would carve Hermione's name into his skin over and over and over again with a dull dagger. After that, she would slice open his gullet with a rusty breadknife and remove his internal organs one by one.

Hermione was gagged and bound, and her beautiful face had been marred with a large ugly bruise just underneath her right eye. Her eyes were red and watery, while she whimpered through her gag.

Bellatrix saw some of Hermione's fear bleed away as her eyes locked onto hers.

The dark-haired witch weighed her options; Apparating wouldn't work, and while she could take down Rodolphus and fight her way to the exit on her own, Hermione seemed to be in bad shape. And with all the people in the sanctum at the moment, it would be neigh impossible to escape with Hermione. No, acting now would be the doom of both of them. Using her ring to summon Dora, perhaps? It would increase their chances somewhat, but it would take them time to get here. With two witches against so many, every second would be one too many. Even with both their considerable magical prowess, the risk was still too great. No, all she could do now was to play along and wait for an opportunity.

Bellatrix knelt down before her beloved. Though her heart was constricting in her chest, she looked at the girl with determination in her eyes, hoping to convey the need for her to play along. Thankfully, Hermione was clever and understood; her whimpering decreased somewhat.

"Awww, look at you," Bellatrix cooed, making herself sick to her stomach. "She's so cute, Rodolphus! Can I keep her?"

"Of course," said Rodolphus. "We picked her up at the Cauldron of all places. Alecto saw her talking to the owner about some kind of petition or other and, together with some Front members, jumped her near Knockturn alley. None were the wiser. Come on, try her out."

"Try her out?" Bellatrix asked.

Rodolphus smirked. "You know what I mean. Start off with a nice Cruciatus curse to put her in her place."

Bellatrix saw Hermione's eyes grew wide at the implication.

"Go on," Rodolphus egged her on. Bellatrix realized to her horror, that there was no choice.

Years ago, her father had taught her how to use all three of the Unforgivable curses when she'd return home from Hogwarts for the summer, just in case she would need them one day. The practice-material had mostly been large insects; Bellatrix had gotten quite adept at swatting flies with the killing curse, agonizing spiders and even mind-controlling a rabbit to make it jump through a burning hoop before setting it free again in the wild. But never had she used them on a human before.

Unforgivables were unforgivable because of their intent. To kill, to dominate, to cause pain; the caster had to truly mean it for it to work properly. The last thing she wanted to was to cause Hermione such terrible agony. But rather than meaning it, there was an overwhelmingneed. If it didn't look convincing, Rodolphus might catch on. And if Bellatrix would be taken down, there'd be nobody to help Hermione; she'd be stuck here forever. The dark-haired witch looked at Hermione, and saw the understanding in her eyes. The young witch was already bracing herself for the inevitable.

Pouring all the anger and the hate she had towards Rodolphus into her casting, Bellatrix closed her eyes and held out her wand to redirect it towards Hermione. "Crucio." It was soft, almost a whisper. She felt the magical energies shoot through her body, out of her wand. She closed her eyes; A muffled scream sounded.

Opening her eyes, Bellatrix watched her girlfriend writhe in pain as every neuron in her body had been set on fire. The dark-haired witch felt numb, deadened to the world. It was as if she was an observer to something so outlandish that it simply couldn't be happening. Like watching water catch fire. Or watching the sun fall out of the sky.

"That's the spirit, Bella! You started off a little light, which is understandable. But you don't have to worry, your new toy won't break that quickly," Rodolphus laughed. It took all the willpower she had to stop herself from inflicting the same pain to Rodolphus tenfold. Even worse was when Rodolphus took hold of her chin and raised it as he leaned in for a kiss.

Bellatrix didn't allow him to deepen the kiss, leaving it at a brush. But the sad whimper coming from Hermione was enough to shatter her heart into a thousand pieces.

"Come," he called for two servants to drag Hermione to her feet. "I'll give you some time to play with your new toy."

Bellatrix's mind was still reeling when she was being led to the other side of the corridor, to the private rooms there. Like a zombie, she shuffled along while she mournfully watched Hermione being thrown into a private room, Lestrange's private room. Rodolphus gently pushed Bellatrix inside. The private room was quite nice and contained a mini-bar, a sofa with a table in front... and manacles on the walls. A table with scalpels neatly lined up from small to larger. A private torture chamber, how lovely. Rich c*nts who thought they could get away with anything indeed. Honestly, she really didn't want to think what Rodolphus did in this room when the doors were locked. She didn't even want to touch anything in this room.

"Don't worry, the rooms are treated with a silencing charm, so you can make her scream at your leisure," Rodolphus winked. "Have fun! I'll see you in about, hm, let's say an hour or so?"

The door closed behind her and, after making sure that nobody was listening in, Bellatrix rushed towards her girlfriend and undid her bounds. The first thing Hermione did was remove her gag before flying into Bellatrix's arms, clutching onto her with all her might. "Pet," Bellatrix closed her eyes and held onto her beloved in homes of making her feel at least somewhat safe. "I'm so sorry."

"It's my own fault," Hermione whispered. "I was so stupid. I heard a voice coming from the alley, calling out for help. I just..."

"It's alright, pet," Bellatrix whispered. "It's alright."

"It's not alright!" Hermione hissed back, still holding onto Bellatrix. "I got you in trouble. I got both of us in trouble. This is the Purity Front lodge, right?"

Bellatrix didn't answer, however. The dark witch felt something wet and sticky through the ratty sleeve of Hermione's clothing. "Pet?" she asked. "What's this?"

Hermione seemed stricken for a moment and held her arm away from Bellatrix. "It's... it's nothing."

"That's blood, Hermione," Bellatrix replied coldly. "What did they do to you?"

"It's nothing!" Hermione snapped. "It's just... if you see it, you'll be angry. And you will lash out. Iknowyou."

"Pet," Bellatrix spoke with a low voice. "Show me."

"First, you must promise me you won't so anything without thinking!" Hermione shot back. A nod was enough for her to accept a silent promise. Carefully, Hermione undid her sleeve and rolled it up. The drying blood caking the wound on her arm to the dirty fabric was enough to make Hermione hiss in pain as she yanked it loose. Bellatrix let out a snarl when she saw what the wound was; deeply and crudely cut into her skin from her elbow to her wrist was the word 'filth'.

"It doesn't hurt as much anymore," Hermione whispered. Bellatrix didn't believe it. Not for one bit. She could hear the crack in her voice, the humiliation, the pain. What had been done to her had injured her gentle girlfriend to her very soul.

"Who," her voice low, her body shaking with rage. "Who did this to you?"

"I was blindfolded. I only heard his voice," Hermione whispered. "But... I think it was the man who tried to kiss you in that office.."

Red flashed in front of Bellatrix's eyes while she let out an agonized shriek. "RODOLPHUS!" Seeking an outlet for her anger, she punched the wall several times until her knuckles were bloodied. "I'll kill him! I... will... KILL... him! I'll tear him limb from useless limb!"

Prudence be damned! She was going to kill him the moment he'd step through that door. She would grab Hermione and fight her way out, carving a bloody path through anyone who'd get in her way.

"You won't!" Hermione yelled while rushing to Bellatrix and gently lay a hand on her cheek. "You're not going to do anything that'll get you killed. There's too many of them, Belle. You're a powerful witch, but not even you take them on your own. I love you. I don't want to lose you."

The dark-haired witch breathed in and out deeply, willing herself to calm down. Hermione was right. She was absolutely right. Getting herself killed wouldn't help her girlfriend in the slightest and it would leave Hermione to the mercy of the inner circle members. Not a very favourable option.

"I'll heal your arm," Bellatrix said, holding out her wand.

"No, you can't," said Hermione. "They'll know something's up when the wound is gone. You can't risk it."

Bellatrix once again weighed her options. She might be able to make it now that Hermione was unbound and active. She was still expected to be in the private room for an hour. Maybe they could sneak out, get through the main hall and burst out the front door. Perhaps she could disguise Hermione somehow. On the other hand, there was no floo network to reach, no apparation to escape until they'd be outside. The moment she'd started launching spells, she'd be overwhelmed.

Again, she desperately tried to think of a way to get herself and her Hermione out of this mess, and again every rational instinct left told her it would only end in their deaths. The terrifying truth was that she would have to leave her behind. A truth which she denied.

"You can't get me out safely, Belle," said Hermione as if sensing Bellatrix's thoughts, fear apparent in her eyes.

Bellatrix shook her head. "I'mnotleaving you here. There must be a way to..."

"You know there isn't!" Hermione shot back. "Please, Belle, don't do anything foolish. I know you'll come back for me."

There was no other way. Bellatrix had to admit that to herself. She'd have to leave Hermione in the lion's den, as much as it pained her. "I have all the evidence we need on me," said Bellatrix, cupping her girlfriend's gentle face and lovingly stroking her cheek. "Iwillbe back for you with the full might of the DMLE police force behind me!"

Hermione offered her a warm smile. "I know you will."

"You're so brave," Bellatrix spoke softly.. "I see why you were sorted in Gryffindor."

Hermione laughed briefly in spite of herself. "Trust me, Belle. I'm utterly, utterly terrified."

"Lestrange will pay for what he's done to you," Bellatrix said. "I promise you that."

The young witch shifted uncomfortably for a moment. "Belle?" she whispered softly. "They think you've been torturing me in here. You'll need to make it look... convincing."

It took a few moments register in her mind just what Hermione was asking from her. "No," Bellatrix shook her head. "I won't do that!"

Hermione shook her head. "Youhaveto. I won't blame you for it." Bellatrix closed her eyes while Hermione sat down on her knees. The young witch gave her an encouraging, yet terrified smile. "I'm ready," she whispered.

"Don't ask this of me," Bellatrix shook her head.

Hermione looked up. "Belle. By hurting me, you'll be protecting me."

Bellatrix gave Hermione a bit of cloth to bite down on, to prevent her from biting off a piece of her own tongue. The dark-haired witch knelt next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She brought her wand to Hermione's shoulder and whispered an arcane word. Magical energy collided with Hermione's slender frame. A muffled scream sounded as the young witch bit down on the cloth and a massive bruise appeared on her shoulder, expanding to her upper arm and lower neck. The young witch hyperventilated from the pain, breathing raggedly. "Another one," Hermione croaked.

With extreme reluctance, Bellatrix brought her wand to Hermione's belly and repeated the arcane word. The cloth fell from her mouth when she doubled over, letting out a high-pitched scream from the agony. "One... one more," Hermione shuddered.

Overcome with a whirlwind of self-loathing, Bellatrix pointed her wand to one of Hermione's legs. Immediately, the young girl let out fearful, heavy breaths in anticipation of the coming pain before the wand even touched her skin. An ear-piercing scream followed; with tears in her eyes the young girl punched against Bellatrix to process the pain. Bellatrix let her; the minor discomfort from Hermione's strikes was nothing compared to the pain Hermione had just gone through.

"I'm so sorry I got you involved in this mess," Bellatrix whispered while Hermione panted heavily to regain her composure. Then, she remembered her back-up wand. The dark-haired witch clipped it from her boot and gave it to Hermione. "Here. Hide this in your shoe. Use it only if you get in trouble. At least you won't be defenseless."

"Thank you," Hermione said. "I... I think I need you to hold me now."

And that Bellatrix did. For the remainder of the hour, they sat together on the comfortable sofa, simply holding each other. They made each other feel safe in the middle of a pit of snakes. They sat in silence, Bellatrix stroking Hermione's soft hair, waiting for the moment that would cruelly separate them.

That moment came with a knock to the door. They shared a final brush of lips and, while Hermione got onto the floor and pretended to be unconscious, Bellatrix opened the door. Rodolphus was standing there, as was that toad Dolores Umbridge. It took a severe amount of willpower to remain calm and serene, and even more willpower not to cast the killing curse on Lestrange then and there.

"Looks like you had fun with your present," Rodolphus smirked while brushing past her to examine the state of Hermione. "My, my, my, you did quite a number on her."

"She was fun," Bellatrix said, trying to sound giddy.

For her part, Hermione did her best to keep pretending to be unconscious, even when Rodolphus roughly rolled her to her back to examine her. At least the pain caused hadn't been for nothing. "No rest for you, mudblood! Wake up, Filth!" he added and looked at if he was about to kick her in the side.

"Don't!" Bellatrix bellowed out, surprising both Rodolphus and Umbridge. Thinking fast, she adopted a wicked grin. "I want play with her again later. It's more fun if she's conscious. So don't damage her."

"Ah," Rodolphus grinned back. "It's nice to see my gift is appreciated." He unceremoniously dropped Hermione to the ground, but thankfully left her alone.

"I hope it was worth the risk," Umbridge shook her head. "The other mudbloods had far less connections than this one has. She's a Ministry employee with ties!"

"Eh," shrugged Rodolphus. "We'll cook up a story, fake a note about her wanting to travel the world or something. Nobody cares if some mudblood takes off."

Umbridge shook her head. "On your head it be, Dolphus. But I suppose we have a new piece of furniture to break in."

Bristling with rage, Bellatrix felt the need to step in. "Oh, no!" Bellatrix hissed at Umbridge, not even attempting to hide her rage. "You are not getting NEAR my pet! She's mine, you understand?! SHE... IS... MINE!" she shrieked. "You'll get her when I'm done with her and not a minute before that! Do you understand?! If you so much as touch my property, I will..."

"Ladies, ladies, please!" said Rodolphus.

"Well, I've never..." Umbridge blinked before angrily stomping off into the hallway.

Rodolphus smirked. "Well, it seems you are quite protective of your property. There's that famous Black temper, alright. Very well, we will let the mudblood pick up her strength for later this evening."

The dark-haired witch muttered under her breath. "Very well, just leave my little pet to rest. She has no idea what I have in store for her," she said, telling Lestrange what he wanted to hear.

"Ah, Bella," spoke Rodolphus. "I hope you will have a wonderful evening with me. I have taken the liberty of reserving a luxurious suite for us. There will be only the best champagne and most delicious of caviar."

Bellatrix briefly wondered if she could get away with using the Imperius curse make him hang himself from the ceiling from a piano wire. Instead, she shot a look at Rodolphus. "I'll be back when the ball starts."

"I'll be waiting for you," grinned Rodolphus.

Bellatrix stomped off in the direction of the entrance, cursing under her breath. 'I'm coming back for you, Hermione. With the entire Department behind me.'

Anger soared through Bellatrix when she arrived at her contact point; a quiet cul-de-sac near Knockturn alley. Nymphadora hadn't arrived yet, and for her sake, that was a good thing. She had a lot of explaining to do. She hissed through clenched teeth; she had to vent. She needed to lash out.

The dark-haired witch at least had the sense to cast a silencing charm upon the entire cul-de-sac. Sufficiently silenced, Bellatrix let out an anguished cry, took out her wand and fired spell after spell after spell after spell in random directions. Shards of stone crashed through air, a dumpster exploded, spilling its garbage everywhere. Another swing of her wands and bricks exploded into dust.

"Auntie!" sounded behind her. Nymphadora. "Have you gone completely mental?!"

Immediately, Bellatrix was upon her, grabbing her by the shoulders and shoving her against the wall. "You promised me you'd protect her! You promised me!" Bellatrix shrieked.

"W-what are you on about?" Nymphadora retorted and tore herself loose from Bellatrix. "Calm down!"

"They have Hermione, Dora!" Bellatrix shouted. "They hurt her! Theymutilatedher! Where was your auror?! She was supposed to be guarded!"

Dora let out a foul swear. "And I'll kick his arse for mucking it up!"

Bellatrix opened her belt and enlarged the satchel with documents. The tossed it to Nymphadora, who deftly caught it. "There you have it. Documents, files, letters, lists. Everything you need for Pius to end the Front forever. Now, get your people in gear. I'm going to get Hermione out of there."

Nymphadora opened the satchel to take a brief look at the gathered evidence. "This is what we need," she concluded, causing Bellatrix to calm down somewhat. "We'll raid the lodge as soon as preparations are done."

Bellatrix heard Dora speak the words, but gaped incredulously at her. "You have the evidence! In your hand!" hissed Bellatrix. "We have plans for a breached entry worked out."

"You're letting your emotions cloud your judgment," Nymphadora retorted. "These know these things take time, aunt Bella! The Hit Wizards and aurors need to be briefed and prepared. If we go in unprepared, it could cost lives! Including Hermione's!"

Bellatrix simply would not accept it. "Hermione won't be there any second longer than is necessary! We gonow."

Nymphadora crossed her arms. "We willnotgo now. This is now a matter for the aurors. Your job is done, now let me do mine. We'll get Hermione out safely, you can trust me on that."

"I trusted you to keep her safe!" Bellatrix hissed in return. "We've all seen how that turned out!"

Nymphadora bristled at the accusation, but quickly softened. "Look, I know you're worried. I am too! But let us do this the right way. We'll get her out. We'll geteverybodyout, not just Hermione. Go home, try to get some rest. Your work is done."

Bellatrix leaned against the wall, suddenly feeling so incredibly tired. "So that it, then? 'Just go to bed and not think about it'?"

"That's it," said Nymphadora. "Go home. We'll prepare the raid tomorrow. Trust me, I want to see Hermione safe as much as you do."

The dark-haired witch sat down on a set of stone steps. She didn't even hear Nymphadora leave. All she could think of was Hermione. Sweet, brave Hermione, all alone among people who thought less of her than the dirt underneath their shoes. It was her fault. It was all her fault. If only she had never accepted this assignment, none of this would have happened. She had wanted to bring down Rodolphus so badly. And now the woman she loved was paying the price.

No.

She was not going to wait till tomorrow. She was not going to wait until the aurors got their arses in gear. Bellatrix thought of Rodolphus, her almost-husband, and how much she wanted him dead.

Directly or indirectly, Lestrange had taken away so much from her. Her family had exiled her, partly because of him. Katie... poor kind Katie, killed for being perceived competition for her affections. And now Hermione? There'd be no way in hell she was going to allow him to take Hermione away from her as well.

More determined than ever, Bellatrix was ready to see this through. The dark-haired witch hurried to the post-office and quickly wrote five letters, detailing what had happened, what needed to be done and expressed her hope that they'd be willing to help her and Hermione. Bellatrix thought for a moment, and then wrote two more letters. She added to the two letters that the recipients might be sacrificing their future careers if they'd choose to help her, but she somehow suspected the two of them wouldn't even consider that.

Seven owls sped away from the post office, and Bellatrix prepared to return to the lion's den.

Chapter 11: Cover blown

Chapter Text

Bellatrix hadn't thought about Guinevere for years. At twenty-two years young, she had had an affair with a married woman. Guinevere was a pure-blood witch, married to a Ministry official. She was the very paragon of a pure-blood lady. Petite, soft-spoken, yet willful and absolutely merciless towards wizards of a lower blood status, Guinevere was fifteen years her senior. Gentle when need be, harsh when necessary. Guinevere could make every head turn when entering the room, always the center of attention everywhere she went.

On top of all that, Guinevere could make her come like a derailing freight train. The thought made the dark witch snort briefly.

Their first meeting had been innocuous enough; Guinevere's purse had been stolen while shopping and Bellatrix had been the constable to recover it. Guinevere had insisted on thanking Bellatrix for her efforts by inviting her to dinner; their affair quickly developed from there. The discrete meetings at an expensive international wizarding hotel started soon afterwards. Laying entwined with Guinevere underneath the covers, Bellatrix shared her thoughts with her. Simple things, complicated things, private things. They'd lie together in post-coital bliss, Bellatrix would talk and Guinevere would listen.

This continued for months until a strange conversation with Guinevere's husband convinced her that something was terribly wrong. The husband unexpectedly turned up at the police post she had been assigned to at the time and had pleasantly invited her to come over to dinner. He said he looked forward to getting to know his wife's mistress and that he would introduce her to his own.

When she had confronted Guinevere about this, she revealed that her marriage was arranged and loveless, but that she and her husband had formed a friendship of a sort, enough for them to allow each other to have lovers on the side while keeping up appearances for society's sake. She then made Bellatrix an offer; she'd pay for an apartment, living expenses and anything Bellatrix could ever desire. If she were to accept, she would never have to work again.

The dark-haired witch response had been to slap her in the face.

Guinevere had wanted her to become a her very own private whor*. Simple at that.

But she was far too proud to be a kept woman, too proud to just a mere mistress. After all the things Bellatrix had confided in her, it turned out Guinevere hadn't even bothered to listen. Bellatrix had loved her, but she also wanted more than Guinevere had been willing to give; Guinevere wasn't going to leave her husband for her. They would never live together or be together in earnest. Bellatrix found her offer to be an absolute betrayal. So Bellatrix broke it off. She returned all the gifts Guinevere had given her, and said her goodbyes. At least Guinevere had had the decency to be heartbroken over it.

It'd been the story of her life, really. Bellatrix had been fortunate enough to share her bed with plenty of beautiful women during her life. Most of her encounters had been either with young witches looking for a night of fun with an experienced woman, or married women looking for a thrill to stave off the boredom inherent to their had gotten to a point that Bellatrix had just given up hope of finding someone to share her life with. Falling in love was just something which happened to other people; she'd rather have plenty of passionate sex while being lonely than only being lonely. However, she'd always have this longing for closeness, the desire for more than just a night of fun. It was a longing which had never been fulfilled.

Until Hermione.

Hermione had wanted more than just a night of sex, more than just an affair. She'd been clear from the very start that she wanted a relationship. After being alone for so long, this was more than a little daunting, but in the end, Hermione had finally given her the closeness she had sought for. Plenty of times, Bellatrix would come home and Hermione would curl up against her on the sofa and ask her how her day was. Bellatrix'd tell her while she lay her head on her shoulder or led a trail of kissing along her collarbone. Hermione would say that she loved her and then tell her about her own day. So mundane, yes, but still so precious.

Standing outside the Front lodge, there was no way in hell she'd leave Hermione in their clutches for even a second more than was necessary.

The plan was simple enough. The worst was the waiting; her plan relied upon both parties to progress and giving the owls time to deliver the letters. So, she waited an agonizing hour before setting her plan in motion. A visit to madam Malkin's fielded her two large black hooded cloaks and a full set of clothing for Hermione.

What she would do was to walk into the lodge and head towards the hidden entrance. By now, she had the way to open the door memorized, so she could enter without the help of someone else. Rather than going to the main hall, she would head right towards the private room and find Hermione. She'd have her don the clothing and the cloak, as she would definitely be noticed wearing the ratty rags she had been given. Then it was just a simple matter of walking out through the front door under the guise of her taking a friend out to 'get some air' after excessive drinking. Most of the partygoers would be too drunk to notice, the inner circle would have never known she'd been there. If, against all odds, she'd be caught, well... that's why she sent the seven letters.

Once inside the lodge, the first thing she noticed was that the crowd in the main hall had been enjoying the celebrations a bit too much already; most of them were starting to get more than a little drunk. Drunker that she expected.

Good. That improved her odds. She just hoped that the members of the inner circle would be just as drunk. It was comical, really; there were wizards and witches, young and old, celebrating 'fifteen years of progress for pure-bloods', whatever that was supposed to mean. None of them had any idea they've been serving the whims of nothing but a crime syndicate pyramid scheme. It was beyond ironic.

Once through the hidden entrance, Bellatrix ducked into the hallways before anyone could spot her. So far, there was nobody in sight as she crept through the darkened corridor as silently as she could. The dark-haired witch hurried along the narrow passageways to where the private rooms were located and quickly found the door leading to that of Rodolphus. Bellatrix cursed when she found it locked. The took out her wand and was just about to use one of the many unlocking spells she had learned during her days on the force when one of the doors of the private rooms nearby swung open.

Dolohov.

The Russian wizard let out a yawn, obviously having taken a cat-nap in there, and looked at her before he gave her a greeting. "Ah, Bellatrix," he started. "How nice to see you again. Are you looking for someone?"

Bellatrix froze momentarily and slowly, ever so slowly, turned around. She forced a smile and faced Dolohov who looked at her with a quizzical expression on his face.

"I, uhm, suppose I wanted to visit..." said Bellatrix, fumbling to find the words.

"Ah, your new pet," interrupted Dolohov after running a hand through hair, blinking away the sleep. "I was surprised to learn that you quite eagerly accepted Rodolphus' gift. I was under the impression that you did not approve of mudblood slavery."

"Well," said Bellatrix. "I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth."

Dolohov remained silent for a few moments. "Honestly," he finally spoke. "I find you fascinating, Bellatrix. Sometimes I feel like I'm talking to two completely different people. Very well, I will leave you be. I hope to speak to you at the party later on, if Rodolphus doesn't claim you for the remainder of the evening."

"I'm sure we will," Bellatrix said, still forcing a smile. Dolohov took his leave and she listened to his footsteps echo through the hallway. After letting out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, she opened the door with her unlocking spell, only to be met with total darkness.

"Pet?" she hissed a whisper. "Pet? Are you there?"

She stepped inside. "Lumos." A light emanated from her wand, bathing the room in a dim glow. Another step further inside and she suddenly felt the tip of something cold pressing into the side of her neck. Instincts took over, intending to dive to the ground and spin around to face her attacker. She never got the chance.

"Crucio."

Pain exploded through her body, pain like she had never felt before. Though she did not scream, her muscles contracted stiffly as she fell to the floor and writhed in agony. It felt as if her entire body, down to her very soul, had been set on fire. A fire so hot it could sear the flesh off her bones. When the spots of black finally faded from her vision, she found that the room had been lit and that the two sad*stic faces of the Carrows were staring down at her.

"Looking for someone?" Alecto cooed Dolohov's earlier words in a mocking tone.

"Take her wand, sister dear," Amycus grinned.

Bellatrix closed her eyes and sighed. It seemed her cover had been blown.

"Aw, I want to have some fun too," Alecto's pout sent shivers down Bellatrix's spine. Her body spawned in sheer, utter agony when a second cruciatus curse set her on fire. Again, she didn't scream; she wanted to, but she couldn't. Her back arched, her legs kicked out and her nails dug into the carpet on the floor. The air in her lungs was fire, her skull felt as if it was going to split open from the pressure. She half expected to find herself lying in a puddle of blood.

Sweet Merlin, if the pain inflicted by Cruciatus curses indeed scaled with the intention of the caster, these two sad*stic wretches certainly meant business.

When she started to come to, she noticed that she had been forcefully yanked off the ground by both siblings who were unceremoniously dragging the still shivering witch along. Pride demanded she find her footing, but her body was still limp from the torture. It took her a few seconds to realize they were taking her to the inner circle chambers.

"Awww," said Alecto. "Don't worry, little plod. You'll get to enjoy the party before we end your miserable life. Brother dear, do you think we'll get to cut her to pieces like we did the others?"

"Oh, I do hope so, sister dear," said Amycus. "I'm certain hear screams will sound just lovely."

The following discussion about which scalpels, bone-saws and axes to use did not exactly fill the dark-haired witch with confidence. Once to the inner sanctum, Bellatrix could barely walk under her own power again. There was tension in the air, the room was just a little too quiet for a ball and some people were sitting in such a position that she would be completely surrounded the moment that she would enter the room. Lucius was sitting at his regular spot and shot her a look. Next to him sat Dolohov, looking at the spectacle rather quizzically.

"W-what is going on?" Rodolphus rushed towards her, but was violently shoved aside by Amycus. It seemed not everybody was informed of her betrayal.

"Ah, miss Black," called Dolores Umbridge with that horrible fake plastic smile from the dais in the center of the room. Bellatrix's stomach turned when she saw Hermione sitting on her knees next to her, her eyes downcast. In between them stood was appeared to be a pensieve. "I was right not to trust you, miss Black. And I assure you, you are quite outnumbered. Amycus, will you please take miss Black's wand?"

Amycus Callow stood next to Bellatrix and held out his hand, showing her the curved duelling wand he had lifted from her.

"Nothing if efficient, dear Amycus. Please also take care of miss Black's hairclip," said Umbridge.

Amycus ripped the butterfly shaped clip from Bellatrix's hair, along with a lock of her dark curls, tossed it on the floor and crushed it underneath his boot.

"Dolores," Rodolphus hissed. "What on Earth is going on here?"

Unbridge's smile never faltered, but her disdain was palpable for everyone to see. "You are too trusting, Dolphus. You see, I found your sudden defensive posture very interesting, miss Black. It made me wonder why you are so protective of this little mudblood girl. Well, as it turns out miss Granger here isn't nearly as good at occlumency as you are."

Bellatrix closed her eyes and sighed. She had to assume that Umbridge knew everything. There was no sign of her back-up yet. Where were they?! Just in case, Bellatrix rubbed her lady's ring, hoping that Dora would be still be listening in. Right now, she needed all the help she could get.

Hemione looked up to offer a silent apology. Her sad eyes conveyed the message quite accurately.

As for Umbridge, it was obvious that she wanted to humiliate Rodolphus in front of the others by exposing her, to show everyone what a fool had had been. This was good, actually. Since Umbridge obviously wanted to gloat, it would buy her some time. She tried too look around carefully to see what she could see; from the way some groups were standing, it indeed seemed that Umbridge had not informed the entire inner circle about her betrayal. That disorganization could work in her favour. Unfortunately, she was still outnumbered, but she was close enough to Hermione to be able to reach her if there was only a moment of confusion. She needed a distraction.

"I lifted some interesting memories from her mind. You might want to pay attention, Rodolphus. Observe," said Umbridge while putting her wand to the pensieve. A think grey mist appeared above the fond, and it didn't take long for shapes to appear in the mist. Memories from Hermione's perspective. Bellatrix appeared in the mist, looking down at Hermione with a gentle soft smile. "I love you, Hermione," spoke the mist-image of Bellatrix, the love apparent in her voice. "I love you too, Belle," sounded Hermione's voice. "I can't imagine living without you."

There were rumblings in the crowd around them, but Rodolphus was obvious still firmly in denial. "Oh, come on," Rodolphus scoffed. "She's just playing with her toy! There's no way Bella would ever associate with a mudblood other than to torment her. Ask her!"

Umbridge shook her head in disgust and pressed her wand against the pensieve. More images appeared in the mist. These were of a more private nature. Hermione apparently straddled a naked and spent Bellatrix; she lay trying to catch her breath while Hermione leant forward to kiss her. "Mine," Hermione husked. A smile crossed mist-Bellatrix's features. "Yours," she whispered as from Hermione's perspective, the dark witch embraced her and gently lay her on her back. "Forever yours."

More rumblings from the increasingly agitated crowd.

"Mudlover!"

"Blood-traitor!"

"She knows too much!"

There were more considerably less flattering slurs. Bellatrix remained absolutely still. Meanwhile, Hermione was obviously horrified and angered that these private moments were being so crudely intruded upon. Next to her, Rodolphus kept shaking his head. "It's not true, Dolores. Tell them, Bella! Tell them that it isn't true!" The was desperation in his voice. Yes, he was in love with her and he didn't want to believe that she had betrayed him, that much Bellatrix gathered.

Umbridge was less than impressed with Rodolphus' puppy love. "She used you, Rodolphus! Must we spell it out for you?!" she said and tapped her wand to the pensieve once more.

The mist was suddenly shaped like their home. "What do they want you to do?" sounded Hermione's voice. Mist-Bellatrix rubbed her chin and seemed hesitant for a moment. Then, spoke. "Sure, but keep this to your self, hm, or you might put the mission at risk. They want me to infiltrate the Purity Front and gather evidence of them trying to destabilize the wizarding world. According to an inside source, they've been trying to corrupt the government."

"Traitor!"

"Kill them!"

"Rodolphus," Umbridge spoke coldly. "This is all your fault; you let miss Black walk right in and you've risked our entire operation! I'll tell you want we're going to do now, Dolphus. We are going to find out exactly how much evidence she gathered and move to do damage control. We're going to need every connection we have to solve this problem. Thanks to you, Dolphus, the Front is more compromised than it has ever been before. I do not blame miss Black for doing her job, and excellently so, I might add, but I do blameyoufor your arrogance and stupidity."

From the corner of her eye, she could see Lucius face-palming. Next to Lucius, Dolohov was... laughing. It was an honest laugh, the laugh of someone who found this entire development to be genuinely hilarious.

The depth of her betrayal finally dawned onto Rodolphus. He looked at her as if she had kicked his dog, shaking his head with disappointment. "You're a plant from the DMLE?"

"You were right about one thing: I am a very loyal individual," Bellatrix spoke in a raspy pained voice. "I'm just not loyal to you and your lot."

Just as Rodolphus was about to give a retort, it was Hermione who sprang to action. While Umbridge was distracted, the girl had taken out the back-up wand and pointed it at Umbridge.

"STUPIFY!" sounded just before Umbridge was launched into the air, flew across the room and crashed on top of the bar. A bottle of fire-whiskey fell down from the top shelf and landed on top of her head, finishing the job. The entire room was confused as to what was going on; some were fumbling for their wands, others were crawling over each other to take cover. In the middle of it all, Bellatrix heart swelled with pride for her young girlfriend.

Good girl; she'd seen Bellatrix looking around and guessed that she needed a distraction at the right moment.

And, just like Hermione during the duel a few days earlier, the two wizards by her side were unprepared for someone trained in hand-to-hand combat. Bellatrix jabbed her elbow in Rodolphus' side, sending the startled wizard to his knees. Having taken care of Rodolphus, the dark-haired witch immediately treated Amycus to a magically-enhanced kick the side of his knee as hard as she could and was satisfied to feel the bone give way and snap before he howled out in pain. Quick as a flash, Bellatrix retrieved both her wand and that of Amycus before he'd even drop to the ground. Dual-wielding a wand in either hand, Bellatrix rushed towards the dais while firing off spells in random directions.

Bombarda's exploded the wood panelling on the walls, sending sharp shards of shredded wood splinters flying through the air. All around her, the members of the inner circle took cover behind couches, chairs and the bar. Seconds later, she reached the dais, where she and Hermione stood back to back, their wands at the ready. Certainly, standing here in the middle of the room without cover wasn't the best position to be in, as there was virtually no cover other than that which a quick Protego spell offered. Still, they'd have to made do.

"You alright, pet?" Bellatrix whispered softly.

"I've been better," Hermione replied.

Making use of the distraction, Lucius Malfoy had approached them. For a moment, Bellatrix worried that he might have a face-heel turn, but was relieved to see him standing back to back with them. Good; it made their chances of surviving a lot better.

It was a stand-off, pure and simple. Though the inner circle had them outnumbered, slinging spells meant people could die. So far, nobody dared to fire off the first spell. It was a truce which would never last for long. The tension was palpable.

"Well," Lucius sighed. "This escalated quickly."

He wasn't kidding. Between the three of them, they had four wands. The inner circle had them outnumbered six to one.

"Miss Granger," Lucius nodded while keeping an eye out for any potential casting going on. "A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance."

"Mister Malfoy," Hermione returned. "Likewise, though I wish it had been under better circ*mstances."

"Please, call me Lucius. No need for formalities when we're about todie," Lucius added.

Bellatrix pressed her back against both of them, waiting for any of the Front's inner circle to make the first move. "Glad you could finally join us, Lucius."

"I always pick the winning side," Lucius hissed, pointing his wand at one of the Carrow siblings, cowing her into submission.

"I'm not entirely sure you did this time," Bellatrix spoke with a pained expression.

"Oh, come now," said Lucius as the trio kept circling. "I'm counting on your plan to get us out of this mess. Youdohave a plan, right?"

"Actually, the course of events is… flexible at best," admitted Bellatrix. "But I do have reinforcements incoming."

At that moment, a loud crash could be heard coming from the windows above. An empty broom slammed against the wall and clattered to the floor, while its driver made a less-than-impressive landing on one of the tables. Nymphadora Tonks was not someone to be out for the count for long, however. Before anyone could react, she jumped to her feet and rushed to her family, lending her wand to their aid.

"That would be your reinforcements, then?" Lucius asked. "Greetings, Nymphadora. This is shaping up to be quite a family reunion."

"Lucius," Dora nodded. "And it'sTonks, thank you very much! As for you, aunt Bella, I just knew you were going to do something incredibly stupid! That's why I stuck around. I just hoped you'd listen to reason."

"Can we please just focus on getting out of here alive?" Hermione asked.

"Didn't expect you to help us out, Lucius," Dora smirked. "A pleasant surprise."

The elder Malfoy seemed rather annoyed. "Why does everybody always assume that I will throw my own family to the wolves? If Bella'd be killed while I could have helped her, Cissa would divorce me on the spot!"

"Belle," Hermione spoke softly. "I love you. I just wanted to say that, in case we don't make it."

"I love you too, pet," replied Bellatrix. "And we are absolutely going to make it!"

Lucius groaned. "Will you two idiots just get a room after we've survived this?!"

Before any more bickering could ensue, a loud explosion sounded as the two double doors leading into the waiting hall were blasted off their hinges. When the dust settled, Bellatrix could see the silhouettes of seven people. To her delight, all of the seven people she had contacted had answered her call for help. Jensen stood in front of the group, his coat billowing around him. He was flanked by Petunia and Bombur, while Jimmy and Barty guarded the sides. In the back stood Harry potter and Ronald Weasley. All wands were out. All were ready for a fight.

"Police!" shouted Jensen. "Lower your wands and surrender! Everybody in this room is now under arrest!"

As expected, a cacophony of spells were immediately fired upon him as the stand-off was rather effectively broken. Being in the middle of the room, Bellatrix tossed Amycus' wand away and dragged Hermione to an overturned couch while Lucius and Dora dove to take cover behind a pool table. Magic flew all around them as Bellatrix hissed to Hermione to keep her head down while they made their way to the bar where the rest of their group had taken cover.

"Hermione!" shouted Harry as the two shared a brief embrace. Ron was quick to follow.

"Potter, Weasley!" Jensen shouted over the battle while holding his wand over the bar and blindly slinging spells in the general direction of a few inner sanctum members. "Focus on the fight now and on the girl later!"

Potter nodded and got back to the fight. "Yes, sir!"

Bellatrix knelt down next to Jensen. "Thanks for showing up, mum," she said.

"Not a problem, Trix," Jensen smirked. "I can't wait to make a report about this to Pius. He'll probably piss his pants."

"Couldn't have botched this up more poorly than I have," replied Bellatrix when a spell shattered a bottle near her.

Jensen laughed before a jet of energy emerged from his wand and hit a Alecto Carrow full-on in the chest, knocking her out completely. "It's fun. Haven't see this much action since my old days with the Hit Wizards."

"On a scale of one to ten, mum, how badly did I bugger this one up?" Bellatrix chuckled.

Another spell flew overhead, red energy charring the wall. "Right now? About five out of ten. But that score will increase significtly depending on the number of arrests made."

"I thought I told you to get in through the windows," Bellatrix scolded over the sounds of battle.

It was Petunia who answered. "Jimmy thought it would look better if we'd made a dramatic entrance, Bells."

"Remind me to kick his arse later."

Proving himself to be a battle-commander, Jensen barked orders for his subordinates to better position themselves. "Potter, Barty!" he shouted. "Move behind that couch to the side there! Keep the pressure off Malfoy and Tonks! Petunia, give Hermione a proper wand! Cover the exits, we have them boxed in!"

"Let's make some corpses!" Barty laughed. "My morgue is very lonely at night!"

"Curb your enthusiasm, Barty!" Jensen said. Bellatrix, in the meantime, took aim for one of the front members making a break for the door. Her Incarcerous spell caused four magical shackles to shoot up from the floor and effectively froze him in place. One less Front member to worry about.

"Sorry we were late, miss officer Bellatrix," spoke the Weasel-boy. "We had some problems with the door-man. None of us passed the purity test except me and mister Whiskersnap."

Bellatrix frowned before stupifying one of the inner circle. "I never knew you were a pure-blood, Bombur."

"I didn't know either until today! Who could have guessed?" Bombur grinned. "But whatever the reason, he let us in just fine after I head-butted him. Ron here set him up, I knocked him down!"

"You should have seen it!" Ronald Weasley laughed. "Blood sprayed from his nose and everything. And then mister Whiskersnap apologized to him after he was knocked out."

"Well, it was quite rude of me to do!" Bombur huffed.

"Sorry I missed it," replied Bellatrix while a blast of magical energy smashed into the wall above her.

"Wow, you look hot in that dress, Bella," said Jimmy, causing Bellatrix to roll her eyes; Of course, the yank had to weigh in with his opinion.

"Shut it, Richards!" Bellatrix yelled back over the battle. "And I'mstillnot shagging you!"

The battle was going excellently. A lot of these people were pampered rich folks who weren't very good at duelling; the well-trained Department law enforcers were making short work of them. The career criminals, however, were considerably more dangerous.

Interestingly enough, Bellatrix had expected the inner circle members to try to escape through secret passageways. She'd tried to keep her eyes open during the infiltration effort to try to find out where those could be, only to now realize that there apparentlyweren'tany. It also explained why so many inner circle members were so frantically trying to get to the double doors; from their position, the Department officers had a perfect line of sight with the door and blocked access to the windows behind them. The Front had made their lair so secure not even they could escape from it.

By now, over half of inner circle had already been downed, adding 'resisting arrest' to their long list of crimes. It was then that Bellatrix spotted Rodolphus skulking around behind tipped over furniture. He was obviously trying to make his way to the entrance. The dark-haired witch growled; he was not getting away! Not this time!

Lucius made quite an impressive stance as he stood up, raised his chin arrogantly while pointing his wand firmly in front of him. A blast from his wand collided against Lestrange's back, sending him flying.

Unfortunately, he landed right in front of the double doors.

Typical. She'd wish Lucius would just stop 'helping'.

Eyes growing wide, Bellatrix tried to lean over the bar to try to incarcerate him, only to be grabbed by the back of the dress and being yanked back behind the bar by Bombur just before two nasty curses could hit.

"Bombur!" Bellatrix hissed in anger.

"Are you insane, you nutter?!" Bombur shouted back. "Don't answer that, I already know you are!"

Angry, frustrated and, above all else, unwilling to let Lestrange get away, Bellatrix decided to throw all caution in the wind. After finding Hermione in perfect safety between Jensen and Petunia, Bellatrix yelled for Jimmy and Bombur to cover her before she threw herself over the counter to chase after Lestrange. She'd stepped right into a warzone. Completely focused, Bellatrix blocked spells from three different directions as she rushed towards the double doors. Lestrange saw her coming, and redoubled his efforts to get away.

A burly wizard blocked her way, but before Bellatrix could raise her wand to fight back, a spell coming from the side of the room blasted him cleanly out of the way. The dark-haired witch whipped her head around to see where it had come from.

Dolohov nodded at her, wand in hand. "You didn't think you were theonlypolice here, right? Go get him!"

After nodded her thanks, she bolted into the hallway after her target.

"LESTRANGE!" she shrieked, causing the wretch of a man to turn around.

"You," he growled at her. "You've ruined everything! You and that fillthy mudblood whor* of yours! You, of all people, a blood traitor! What would your father say?!"

"You're the blood traitor here, Rodolphus!" Bellatrix shouted back in his face. "This was never about pure-blood rights or saving the wizarding world. This was all about money and power. You betrayed your own cause long before I ever came along!"

This started a duel in the hallway. Bellatrix had to admit that he chained his spells well, and tried every dirty trick in the book to get through her barriers. Yet Bellatrix managed to block all his attempts through sheer determination. Magic crackled through the air, and the tendrils of magical energy slamming against her barriers singed her hair. The smell of ozone in the air was unmistakable.

She was winning. The dark-haired witch was pushing him back towards the hidden entrance leading back into the main hallway. However, Lestrange was eager to escape. Rather than at her, he shot a Bombardo at the ceiling, causing plaster and wood to crash on top of her. Bellatrix yelped while Rodolphus rushed off, headed towards the front door.

Bellatrix realized that he was trying to get outside of the lodge so he could apparate way. Once he was gone, he'd be gone forever. She had to act fast. The dark-haired witch willed her body to transform into a billow of arid black smoke, shooting forward through the hallway at tremendous speed. She shot through the main hall, towards the front door, and rematerialized in her human form just as Rodolphus started to apparate. She managed to grab hold of his robe and was yanked along into the aether.

Together, they were pushed through the aether as if through a rubber tube. It didn't matter where Rodolphus was going, Bellatrix focused purely on him. It was a battle of wills; Rodolphus to shed his unwelcome stowaway, while Bellatrix was trying to force him back into reality. Images of the city, of roads, of hills, of towns blended around them as the apparation continued.

"If I have to tear you apart, Lestrange! I will!" she shouted into the aether. She had no idea if Lestrange could hear her or not. She did not care. All her focus, all her hatred was aimed at forcing both of them out of the spell. It was a battle of wills which Bellatrix ultimately won.

They were no longer in London when they phased back into reality. With break-neck speed, they appeared above a meadow in the countryside, a sheep pen to be precise, where the both of them made a not-so-gentle landing on solid ground. Bellatrix felt herself bounce and roll across the grassy ground, finally coming to a stop lying on her back, staring at the orange evening sky above them.

She lay there for a moment, panting while her entire body ached. Thinking how beautiful the evening sun was. Enjoying the smells of the forest near the meadow. Odd, really. Now that the adrenalin rush was subsiding, she felt completely at peace.

It took her a moment to command her body into action. From the violent way of cancelling out the apparation, she knew there would be splincing. A cursory glance revealed that all her limbs were still attached, and that the splincing had been limited to mostly superficial cuts and slashes in her skin. Nothing that couldn't be taken care of with a good dose of dittany. Her dress, however, had been completely ruined.

Good. She was tired of the thing anyway.

She tried to raise herself, but cried out as horrible pain shot out through her upper left arm the moment she put pressure on it.

Definitely broken.

Thankfully, Bellatrix was right-handed. With her wand in hand, the dark witch looked around for Lestrange. She found him not far away. To her delight, she also found that he had landed right in a pipe of sheep dung. When Bellatrix had forced them into reality, Lestrange had caught the brunt of the splincing. He was covered in blood, patches of skin and part of his hand were missing. His wand was nowhere to be seen. Moaning on the ground, he wasn't going anywhere. Especially since a rather large piece of bone was sticking out of the side of his leg.

"Look at me," she hissed. "LOOK AT ME!"

Rodolphus looked up, completely and utterly defeated. "Well," he coughed. "You got me. I hope you're proud of yourself, traitor. All of this... for a mudblood whor*."

She had him. She finally had him. Justice for Katie. Justice for Hermione. Justice for herself. But then another thought came to her. Should she really bring him in? She pursed her lips. Even with all the evidence gathered, even with so many witnesses present, Lestrange was a rich man with power and influence. Courts were one thing, but a good solicitor might find ways to get him off or even a reduced sentence. Trust the courts, trust the system, sure. But why take a risk when she had him here at her mercy now. Alone.

She claim all manner of things. He could have resisted arrest. He could have splinced yourself to death. He could have broken his neck during the landing. The only witnesses to the whole affair would be those woolly beasts bleating around them. Nobody'd ever know.

"Belle!" sounded.

Hermione.

Her girlfriend was by her side, "I'm so glad you're alright, Belle. Jensen told me to find you. They've arrested the entire inner circle. Lestrange is the last one. Belle? What's wrong? Why are you so quiet?"

Bellatrix froze. She really had no answer. She merely stared ahead, wand pointed at the downed and defeated Lestrange. Bellatrix almost trembled when she felt a soft hand lain on her wand arm. She turned to her side and looked deep in Hermione's eyes. Her girl always did know what was going through her mind in tense moments like these. There was nothing left to be said. There was no reason to lower herself to Lestrange's level. She turned back to the downed man, lain out in a pile of sheep sh*t.

"Rodolphus Lestrange. You are under arrest for conspiring to destabilize the wizarding world, multiple counts of kidnapping, trafficking illegal magical goods, gross violations of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, fraud, the murder of Katie McKenzie and I'm sure there's plenty of other charges I'll think of while we're hauling your arse over to the precinct!" Bellatrix spat.

A few minutes later, constables from the DMLE arrived to take him in. Hermione and Bellatrix watched him getting clapped in irons and being led off. It was over. It was finally over.

Bellatrix snorted to herself; she was actually hoping for a murder to solve so her life could once again have a semblance of normality.

"Belle, you're hurt," Hermione said while she stood next to her.

"I'll be fine, pet," Bellatrix said. "Let's get the both of us fixed up. And after that we're… we're going home, Hermione. We're going home."

Chapter 12: Aftermath

Chapter Text

The past couple of days had been tumultuous for the entire UK wizarding world to say the least. Due to all the damning evidence gathered, all the members of the inner circle were only too eager to rat each other out. With even more piles of evidence to work with, Pius Thicknesse had set in motion one of the largest anti-corruption offensives in the history of the UK wizarding world. Everybody whom had been remotely connected to the Purity Front in any way had been suspended from their Ministry work pending the investigation. Certainly, there were a depressingly large number of empty desks throughout the Ministry and their subsidiary offices. A great purge was incoming.

In Bellatrix's eyes, Pius had made a brilliant move in making everything public from day one. It prevented a lot of dirty laundry from being swept under the rug. In fact, the papers had been filled with exposes and new revelations every single day with no end in sight.

Today's top story was quite interesting; it was an 'exclusive interview' with Lucius Malfoy. In this interview, Lucius told the entire wizarding world how he had personally risked life and limb funnelling information from the inside of the Front to bring the criminal inner circle to justice. Lucius, being ever so brave, had been prepared to go through extraordinary lengths to bring the truth to light and save the wizarding world from corruption and wickedness. Bellatrix laughed again as she read the headline: 'Lucius Malfoy's heroism; his story in his own words'. Still, she had to admit he looked rather dapper in the photograph.

The first political victim of the purge was Cornelius Fudge. When Umbridge had been implicated, his political rivals smelled blood in the water and went in for the kill. His position had simply become untenable and he stepped down from office due to 'health-related reasons'. The Leaky Cauldron even had a betting pool going who would be the new Minister of Magic. As a lark, Bellatrix had bet a galleon or two on Arthur Weasley.

The Front was finished. Most of its members had handed in their badges and most people didn't dare to have their name associated with the Front anymore. But Bellatrix was no fool; pure-blood supremacy was an ideal not as easily eradicated as an organization was. The subversive supremacists would go underground, bide their time, and eventually try again. And wherever there were extremists, there'd be opportunists gravitating towards them for personal gain. It was up to the DMLE to remain vigilant.

Another bit of good news she had gotten today is that Rodolphus Lestrange had been formally charged with the murder of Katie McKenzie, on top of all the other charges being laid at his feet. Though she would have liked to have handled the case herself, she was a witness and thus too personally involved. Still, she had faith that Bombur would handle the investigation with all due diligence.

Truth be told, all that was happening passed Bellatrix by. She had plenty of paperwork to do, after all. Since Bellatrix had been the one to find the twelve missing muggle-borns, the members of the Investigation Department decided to try to foist their case-files onto her to handle, on top of all the paperwork she would already have to do to neatly finish up her mission to infiltrate the Front. Honestly, Bellatrix didn't mind at all; she'd had enough field-work in the past weeks to last her and would be quite happy to simply fly a desk for the next month or so.

On a more personal level, she had received a visit from Alastor Moody. He'd been less than happy that she had involved Potter and Weasley in the raid on the Front lodge and let her know in no uncertain terms what he thought of her. But, despite all the bluster, she suspected he was secretly quite proud of them. She herself had seen the boys handle themselves during the battle and suspected they would go far in the auror office.

Then there was the matter of Antonin Dolohov. Or rather, Captain Antonin Dolohov of the Department of Magic Law Enforcment of the Russian Ministry of Magic, who was now sat in front of her desk. The two had been chatting for a bit; like her, he had been debriefed and revealed that his infiltration of the Purity Front had started little over a year ago, after several illegal magically enchanted muggle weapons had been seized in Kazachstan and traced back to the UK.

"I suppose I knew on some level. One policeman recognizes another, after all. You were only in there for a couple of weeks," Dolohov chuckled. "I had to deal with those people for a year. There was certainly an action-packed conclusion."

"Heh," said Bellatrix. "I hope you're not upset that I ruined your case."

"Far from it," said Dolohov. "It'll be good to return home. English weather isn't to my taste."

"It's an acquired taste. So when will you leave for home?" Bellatrix asked.

Clad in a black leather jacket, the Russian man leaned back in the chair. "Couple of hours. Taking the portkey network back home. At least, until my next assignment. My dear Bellatrix, once more for old time's sake?"

The dark-haired witch groaned, but held out her hand. Dolohov gently took it and brought the back of her hand to her lips.

As expected, a loud groan come from the side of the office, from where amongst the pinned up Chicago postcards, sat Jimmy. "Oh, mister Dolo! Hang on a moment! Question!"

After getting up from the chair, Dolohov raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"I've always wondered," said Jimmy. "KGB. How much did they really know about the wizarding world?"

Dolohov laughed for a moment and stepped towards the door. Before walking out, he turned his head. "Well, mister Richards," he spoke sardonically. "Thatwould be telling."

And he was off.

"Called it," said Richards. "They knew all about the wizarding world!"

"Hey, Bells," called over Petunia from the desk next to her, ignoring Jimmy's rants. "You're half-frog, right?"

"My mother was French, yes. Why?"

"I was hoping you could fill in the gaps in this clam chowder recipe," Petunia said as she held up a cook book which seemed to have been partially burned. Petunia had been recently handed a case in which a son had poisoned his parents for inheritance money. The poison had been added to their evening meals over a period of two months. The son had tried to get rid of the evidence by burning it, but had done a rather poor job of it.

Bellatrix stared at her. "Nice use of Department time, Tunia. Also, isn't that evidence? Why is it not in lock-up?"

"Hey, we're not machines like you are," Petunia said. "Frenchies are good chefs, right?"

"Don't ask me," Bellatrix shrugged. "I've never even been to France. Besides, my experience with cooking is limited to deciding which type of take-away to get or which pub to visit. You'll have to ask Hermione. She cooks... sometimes."

"Bollocks," Petunia sighed, but then smiled when she looked over Bellatrix's shoulder. "Ah, speak of the devil!"

Bellatrix swive;led around on her chair to face the door, and was pleasantly surprised to see Hermione standing in the doorframe. "Pet!" Bellatrix stood up to greet her girlfriend. All her wounds and bruises had been neatly healed at St. Mungo's, and both of them were quite gratified that the word which had been crudely carved in her fore-arm wouldn't leave a scar. Yes, Hermione had been completely healed... at least, physically. Mentally, Hermione was doing less well; she didn't like being alone or in the dark, had become more suspicious of strangers and gave dark alleys a wide berth. All things considered, it could have been much worse, but still, Bellatrix hoped time would be the more effective healer.

As for Bellatrix herself, her splinced skin had been completely healed, as was her broken arm. However, it was still a bit stiff; she'd have to wear her arm in a sling for a couple of days more. Because of the sling, their embrace and gentle kiss was a bit awkward, but nonetheless welcome.

"Wooo!" grinned Jimmy. "Don't mind me, I'm just enjoying the show! Could you kiss Hermione again and maybe dip her a little? I'll go get my camera!"

Hermione smirked and shot Jimmy a two-fingered salute, making Bellatrix laugh. Indeed, her pet was a quick learner.

"Oh, Hermione!" Petunia handed her the cook book. "Can you figure out what's missing from this clam chowder recipe? The fire burned out the last ingredient."

Hermione took the book and gave the recipe a once-over. "I believe the missing ingredient is 'clams'."

"Ah, thanks," Petunia said, and went back to bury her nose in the cook book.

Bellatrix blinked once. Blinked twice. "Hang on just a moment, Tunia. You were looking for the missing ingredients for clam chowder. And the one missing ingredient you couldn't figure out were 'clams'?"

"Yep."

"How did you even find the door leading into this office?" Bellatrix asked.

"Hey, I'm a detective, not a chef, Bells," Petunia winked.

Bellatrix let out a groan and turned back to Hermione, who took the chair from Bombur's empty desk and sat it next to her. "Hm, this is a rare treat, pet," she said. "You don't usually come to visit me in the office."

"Actually," Hermione started. "We had a lunch-date, remember?"

Immediately, Bellatrix snapped her head to the clock and was dismayed to see the time. "Oh, bollocks, I had no idea it was already this late. I was talking to Dolohov and just lost track of time."

"No matter," Hermione said while patting Bellatrix on the knee. "Ready to go? I'm rather famished."

"Could it wait a bit?" Bellatrix asked and pointed to Jensen's office, the door firmly shut. "Jensen in there with Pius Thicknesse. He wanted to see me. Shouldn't take much longer."

"It's alright," Hermione said and then apparently took note of the paper lying on her desk. Lucius' interview. "That scoundrel! I can't believe he's taking credit for everything! That should be your glory!"

Bellatrix snorted in response. "I really don't care, pet. Let him have his fifteen minutes of fame. Better yet, if there's any Front fanatics wanting revenge, I'd rather have them targeting him instead of us. He has far better security up in the manor."

In truth, she and Hermione would have very little to worry about. As was standard with infiltration missions, the arrested suspects would have their memories altered in such a way that they would have been aware of everything which had happened, but would not be able to recall exactly whom the infiltrator was. This was done to protect infiltrators from reprisals as well as ensuring they could continue to keep infiltrating in other circles.

Bellatrix had put in a request to leave Lestrange's mind untouched; she wanted him to know and remember that it washerwhom had been his undoing. However, this flew in the face of procedures so her request had already been denied by the higher-ups 'for her own protection, as well as that of miss Granger and the other captured muggle-borns'. A pity, but understandable.

Hermione took on a rather pouty expression after tossing down the paper and crossing her arms. "I'm still going to give him an earful when we'll have dinner at the Malfoy manor this weekend."

"Don't worry. Cissy already has," Bellatrix smirked. "Really, I'm not bothered by it."

The young witch was about to reply, obviously wanting to tell her that she shouldn't let Lucius get away with it so easily, but any further discussion was nipped in the bud when the door to Jensen's office opened and both men stepped out. Pius, wearing his usual pin-stripe suit, nodded at Bellatrix and stood at her desk. "Ah, miss Black," he spoke. "I do regret not coming to see you earlier to congratulate your victory in person, but as you can imagine, I have been rather snowed under as of late."

Bellatrix nodded. "I don't doubt it. When do the first hearings start?"

"Tomorrow," said Pius. "Already we've had the first group of suspects claiming they were under the Imperiatus curse. Still, that doesn't explain the large sums of money they have received from the Front. We'll be having hearings for months, but I suspect quite a bit of the people we've suspended won't be returning to their jobs."

"Hm, pet," said Bellatrix to Hermione. "Might be a good idea to start writing your application letter for your supervisor's job."

Indeed, Hermione's supervisor had been one of the people implicated in the bribe scandal. The young witch said nothing, but Bellatrix had known her long enough to know that she was indeed strongly considering it.

"Ah, you must be miss Granger," Pius smiled warmly while he took her hand. "I am so sorry you were caught in the cross-fire, as it were. I hope your ordeal hasn't left you too unsettled, my dear?"

"I'm fine, aside from the occasional nightmare, but how are the others?" Hermione asked. "They were there much longer than I and were in far worse a shape."

Bellatrix smiled to herself. That was her Hermione; always thinking about others first.

"I can assure you, miss Granger, that they are receiving the best help galleons can buy," Pius said. "We were all shocked by the state those poor people were in, and with healing and therapy, they are expected to make a full recovery in due time."

"I'm glad to hear that," said Hermione.

"Miss Black," continued Pius. "I understand Kingsley has told you the aurors would welcome you among their midst if you'd accept."

Yeah, right, and share office-space with Sirius? No bloody likely.

"I've thought about it, but I'm happy where I am right now."

"I quite understand," said Pius. "Thank you again for all you have done for the Ministry. Hell of thing you've done. Hell of a thing. I'm afraid that your heroism must remain unsung, however. But rest assured, what you have done for the wizarding world will not be forgotten. And the right people in the right placeswillremember."

Pius tipped his top-hat and left the office, while Jensen took one of the apples from the tray on Bombur's desk and took a bite.

"What a twat," Petunia snorted.

Jensen laughed. "Trix, you do realize that if that mission had failed, you'd have been scapegoated faster than you can say 'demoted'."

"Sure," Bellatrix shrugged. "But it didn't, and now I have more salary, more prestige and a whole lot of criminals behind bars. I can live with that outcome. Still, I'm never going to do anything like that ever again. Just give me a corpse and some suspects to tear into and I'll be perfectly happy."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm still new to all this Ministry intrigue. Did you just say Pius would have thrown Belle to the wolves if..."

Jensen shrugged. "Not exactly. I've known Pius for years. He's a politician through and through, and he cuts his losses when things get hairy. Trix would probably have been encouraged to resign, but knowing Trix, she'd be far too stubborn to even think of it."

"Hah, you know me well," Bellatrix winked at Hermione. "Come, pet, how about we hit the cafeteria? Today, they have those puddings you really like."

"Sounds good, Belle," said Hermione as the two of them got up from their chairs, said their goodbyes and were getting ready for lunch. At last, it seemed life had returned to normal. After a very pleasant lunch with Hermione, including a far more pleasant detour ended in trusty old Storeroom 18, Bellatrix returned to her desk for some more paperwork.

Work continued for the rest of the day, and when it was time to go home, Bellatrix checked her inbox and found three messages waiting for her. One was a response to a letter she had sent to Rabastan Lestrange two days ago, figuring it was fair to inform him what had happened to his brother and that it was safe to return to the UK if he wanted to.

"Dear Bellatrix,

As my American friends always say: 'howdy'.

First of all, it is good to hear from you. I'm glad you are doing well and I am equally glad that you have put a stop to whatever nefarious scheme my younger brother was up to.

Secondly, I do look forward to visiting the UK. I have missed Old Blighty like you can't imagine, and I do want my daughters to know their roots. When I am in the UK, I will invite you to dinner. Bring your Hermione. If she managed to change the ways of a blood purity fanatic such as yourself, she must be quite special indeed. Special like my Sarah is.

Be well, Bella.

Yours truly,

Baz"

Bellatrix smiled to herself as she put down the note. The other two messages were simple answers to some questions regarding the formerly missing muggle-borns, but she would handle that tomorrow. Life, as they say, was returning to normal.

For the start of May, sun was unusually bright and the weather was balmy. Bellatrix found herself surrounded by far to many people sharing a quite sizable rear garden at the London Hampstead Garden suburb. All of them Muggles. All of them eager to meet and chat with her. This not an ideal situation for any member of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black to be in, and in any other circ*mstances, she'd try to get away from them as quickly as possible. Yet, today, she weathered it because of Hermione's growing discomfort.

It had actually been Emma, Hermione's mother, whom had convinced the both of them to attend. Or rather, in Hermione's case, strong-arm her to attend. Though Hermione's family had learned about their relationship by now, outside of Hermione's parents, none of her girlfriend's family had ever met her and were quite interested in getting to know her. Generally, they all seemed to be very polite and unexpectedly warm and welcoming, a far cry from the mud-wallowing beasts pure-blood propagandists claimed them to be. And certainly a lot more welcoming than her own family would have been to Hermione. All around her, braziers filled with sizzling food worked overtime while the gathered Grangers were chatting and generally enjoying their food.

Their relationship was unconventional for muggle sensibilities; they were both women and then there was the certain age gap. It helped, though, that Bellatrix looked quite a bit younger than her actual age due to the longer lifespan wizards tended to have.

"I've been told that you are with the police," asked Hermione's uncle Richard, a kindly middle-aged man with ruddy cheeks. "Is it like you see on the TV-shows? Is police work these days all computers and DNA and camera surveillance tapes? It seems there's so little heart in the work left."

First of all, Bellatrix had no idea what this silly muggle had just said. Secondly, Hermione was sitting on a fold-out chair next to a hedge, both trying to disappear into the crowd as much as possible while simultaneously keeping an eye on Bellatrix's every single move.

The dark-haired witch couldn't resist giving her a wink, causing the younger witch to huff and look away. Oh yes, while she loved the bones of her, Bellatrix did rather enjoy watching Hermione... suffer.

Of course Hermione had started it herself by giving her a list with about ninety 'suggestions' of how to act around her family. Bellatrix had let her pet know just exactly how she felt about the list by crumpling it up into a ball and tossing it over her shoulder right before ringing the doorbell. The young witch had been suspiciously glaring at her ever since.

"Hm, trouble in paradise?" said uncle Richard as he had noticed the exchange.

"Hermione is a little twitchy, it seems," Bellatrix said. "But to answer your question, no. We have all manner of tools at our disposal, and we use them well. But no tool, however advanced, will ever replace good old-fashioned instinct and reasoning."

The answer seemed to satisfy the man, and he soon made way for others who wanted to speak to her. "Miss Bella, miss Bella," yelled out two cheerful little girls. They were Hermione's wee eight year old twin cousins Becky and Lucy, and they were holding a large colourful box. "Do you want to play Catan with us, miss Bella? It's not hard, we'll teach you how to play."

A quick glance at Hermione revealed that the young woman looked rather stunned.

"Hm, not right now, girls," Bellatrix turned back to the disappointed girls. "There's still food out and I have to keep an eye on your lovely cousin. Tell you what, why don't you get started without me and I'll join you later."

"Yaaay!" said the girls as they ran inside, undoubtedly to set up the board.

A few moments later, she found herself talking to two teenage boys; two teenage boys with a particularly low opinion of Hermione, but a rather high hormonally induced opinion of hot lesbians. She had heard Hermione refer to the boys as 'chavs'. Though she was not familiar with the term, from the way Hermione said it, she doubted it was in any way flattering.

"Why did ye git with 'ermione?" one of the chavs asked. "She's a bloody know-it-all stuck-up heifer, innit?"

Well, he was certainly direct. Though she had a perfect spell in mind to shrink the boy's particulars to the size of a pea for the rest of his life, the dark-haired witch had a better idea. She waggled her fingers to motion the boy to lean forward. "Well, let me tell you this," she spoke softly, but just loud enough for Hermione to hear. "When she gets started, she's an absolutedemon!"

"BELLE!" shouted Hermione through the back yard. Instantly, Hermione froze as everybody stopped talking to look at her.

"Yes, pet?" Bellatrix smiled as innocently as she could muster.

Feeling all eyes burn into her, Hermione bit her lip and plopped down in her chair, hoping this would all blow over. Soon enough, people started talking again.

"Aye," said the second boy. "I never thogh bout it. I always thogh 'ermione loved some todger!"

From the corner of her eye, she could see her beloved girlfriend facepalm. Oh, this was just too wonderful; she was getting months worth of teasing material from all of this. "Hermione, pet?" she said.

"Would you like a cumberland sausage?" she said while holding a freshly barbequed wiener in hand, wiggling it slightly for added effect.

"NO!" Hermione replied angrily.

Then, something entirely unexpected happened. Hermione's elderly grandmother Lydia rose from her wicker chair. "Hermione Jean Granger!" she admonished in a thick Scottish accent. "Ye be actin' like a complete dobber today! And to think ye were always such a polite and well-mannered young lass. Shame on ye for treating yer own partner like yer bum's oot the windae!"

Oh, this was too perfect. Hermione's eyes grew wide with terror, moving her lips without making a sound much like a fish on dry land. Every eye was once again upon her. Meanwhile, Bellatrix had to literally bite her tongue to keep herself from bursting out into laughter. She decided it was time to toss some oil on the fire.

"Oh, it's alright, madame Granger," started Bellatrix, a wicked grin tugging on the corners of her mouth. "I'm used to it by now."

Lydia Granger seemed flabbergasted for just a moment. "Used to... HERMIONE! Are ye aff yer head?!"

"I... Someone had a bad influence on me," Hermione crossed her arms, looking almost petulant.

"Can't 'ave been bonnie Belle 'ere," Lydia said. "She be good craic and 'as done nothin' ta deserve yer doolally," she turned to Bellatrix and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Come now, ye poor thing, why don ye sit down. 'Ave Hermione fetch something fer ye ta drink."

Hermione looked utterly stunned; her jaw almost hit the floor. Too, too perfect!

"Could I have a cola, pet?" Bellatrix winked at her beloved. With a huff, Hermione rushed into the kitchen.

When she came back, she found Bellatrix leaning against the chest-high brick wall at the side of the yard, away from the others. She wordlessly handed Bellatrix her cola, causing her grandmother's baleful eyes to veer away from her finally. "Thank you," Bellatrix chuckled, deciding that Hermione had earned a bit of a reprieve. But only a bit.

"Well," Hermione crossed her arms. "Look who's miss popular today."

Bellatrix didn't miss a beat. "I'll be playing Catan in a moment."

"My cousins never askedmeto play Catan with them," Hermione spoke somewhat bitterly.

"Aw," said Bellatrix as she took a sip and wrapped an arm around Hermione. The closeness did a lot to soften her up. "Maybe if we ask nicely, they'll let you join us."

"You're absolutely loving this, aren't you?" Hermione sighed heavily.

"Every... single... second..." Bellatrix replied, and kissed the top of Hermione's head. "Hell, if I had known muggles could be this amusing, I'd have checked out the muggle world ages ago."

"My family likes you more than they like me!"

"Well, Iamrather charming, after all," Bellatrix winked.

"You're about as charming as a punch to the nose! But I suppose I should be happy," Hermione said. "Not everybody accepts it when a girl brings home another woman to introduce to her parents."

Bellatrix remembered how difficult it was for Hermione to 'come out', as she called it, to her parents. The dark-haired witch had been there and had seen how nervous and terrified the young witch had been. It was not that she had been embarrassed about Bellatrix, but Hermione loved her parents and feared their disapproval. It was a fear that Bellatrix quite understood; she'd gotten herself exiled, after all.

Lydia Granger was quickly upon them. "I see wee Hermione has calmed down. I'm sorry fer bein' angry, Bellatrix, but sometimes the wee ones need to be scolded proper."

"It's quite alright," Bellatrix nodded. "I might have been egging on Hermione... just a bit."

"Just a bit?" Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"Alright, a lot," Bellatrix laughed. "Seriously, madame Granger, I've been quite misbehaving. Hermione has done nothing wrong."

"Well, don't ye worry about it, dear bairn," said Lydia. "Yer part of the family now."

Bellatrix said nothing, but just stood there blinking as Lydia smiled warmly and took her leave.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I... wasn't sure how to respond."

"You're supposed to be grateful, you git!"

That was it, really. Something had just happened which Bellatrix had never considered. Most of her life, she had been without family, other than the two sisters whom she dearly loved. But now that she was with Hermione, she had become part of another family. A very welcoming family, in fact. Sure, they were muggles, but it was still surprisingly gratifying.

"So, Catan?" Bellatrix smiled at her girlfriend.

"Catan," said Hermione. However, Hermione quickly blanched; curious, Bellatrix followed her gaze and saw Jack and Emma Granger holding some soft of muggle device which looked like a really thick wand with a rounded metal sphere on the top with holes in it. A wire was attached to it and led to a duo of wooden boxes.

Most amusing was the embarrassed croak next to her as Hermione buried her head in her palms. "Oh, god," she shuddered. "Oh, god…. My parents are going to do their tooth-themed Vaudeville act."

Bellatrix snorted. "Should I be worried?"

The terrible off-key singing started, loudly encouraged by all the gathered Grangers. Bellatrix bit her lip to stave off her laughter at Hermione's reaction.

Executing the dreaded double-facepalm, Hermione blushed right red and whimpered slightly. "Killlllll meeeeee..."

"Hm," Bellatrix pretended to be impressed. "That looks like fun. Should I..."

"I swear, if you join in, you'll be sleeping on the sofa for the rest of the week!" Hermione shouted.

Though the threat of Hermione withholding sex was a dire one, Bellatrix found it to be a calculated risk; one tiny nibble on her earlobe and Hermione resolve would crumble, after all. And besides, this was just too good to pass up.

"And here I was going to serenade you," Bellatrix scraped her throat and give it her best singing voice. "The Tooth… The Tooth… The Tooth is on fire…"

"Stop it! Pleaaaaaaaase, stop it."