Chapter 49: RecoveryChapter Text
Hermione stretched and let out a slight groan.
She was lying on something soft, almost impossibly soft. At the same time, her body was stiff and rigid. Stretching after waking up caused pangs of pain to shoot through her limbs. And the fatigue. God, she felt so tired.
What had happened? The last thing she remembered was squaring off with Rodolphus Lestrange. Then something hit her in the back, clamped around her wrist and sent her flying. It all got a little bit hazy after that.
When she opened her eyes, she found herself staring at the wooden beams of a large canopy bed. Bellatrix' canopy bed to be more precise. Had she been taken to Catterborough Woodhouse? How odd. Everything had felt like a weird dream and perhaps that was just what it had been. The light poured through the tall windows and, if she were to hazard a guess, it was late afternoon.
She felt something warm and soft pressing against her. When she turned her head, she first winced as her neck seized up and then smiled when she saw the sleeping face of Bellatrix. Her girlfriend lay pressed against her, with Zipper neatly nestled in between them. Bellatrix looked peaceful and calm, even though her mess of curly hair was falling over her eyes. Hermione raised her arm to brush some hair from her girlfriend's face.
Only to pause when she noticed that her arm was bandaged from her elbow to her wrist… and that there was no longer a hand attached to said wrist. She looked at her own maimed limb in disbelief before sighing heavily.
It wasn't a dream, then.
Well, shit.
She turned her head to survey the rather quiet room. Bellatrix' room to be precise and she was oddly delighted to see her wand lying on Bellatrix' desk. Her wand had been recovered after the duel, so there was at least that.
She let her handless arm fall back to the bed: this would take some getting used to. It was so odd, really. She could still feel as if there was a hand there, with fingers to move. In fact, Hermione could swear that she could feel the fabric of the sheets with non-existent fingers. Not so much phantom pain as phantom everything.
The sudden movement caused Bellatrix to stretch and stir. Her eyes fluttered open. It apparently took Bellatrix a few moments to realize that Hermione was awake, but when she did, she was overjoyed.
"Hermie!" she exclaimed and shifted to embrace her, waking up Zipper too in the process.
Hermione grimaced, the stiffness of her body not reacting well to the sudden motion. "Ow."
"Sorry," replied Bellatrix, before brushing lips with her. Bellatrix' closeness felt good, her lips tasting like light summer wine, her warmth encompassing her. Whatever Hermione had done, she had rescued her girlfriend from Rodolphus. Hermione had never fancied herself a knight in shining armour, but her righteous anger had won the day.
She wasn't afraid of Rodolphus Lestrange anymore. Would this mean no more nightmares? Only quiet nights? That was almost worth losing her hand to achieve, but only time would tell and something told her it wouldn't be quite that easy.
"What happened?" she asked, raising her handless wrist.
"To your hand?" Bellatrix gave her a sympathetic look. "The murder-unicorn happened."
"Is that what hit me in the back? Unicornis Rex bit my hand off?" Hermione frowned. If that was the case, she was lucky to be alive at all. "What about Rodolphus Lestrange?"
Bellatrix shook her head. "Eaten alive. Couldn't have happened to a nicer bloke. Not much left of him."
"And Unicornis Rex?"
"Not sure," said Bellatrix. "We were too busy getting you to safety. My father and I managed to defeat it and freeze its remains to prevent it from reconstituting. A Ministry team of unspeakables came to fetch it and it was already gone when were done prepping you for transport to St. Mungo's. After you'd been stabilized, Andie ordered you brought to Catterborough Woodhouse along with your parents. Naturally, it took the Ministry days to actually inform your parents."
"Typical," Hermione rolled her eyes. "They can collect Unicornis Rex at a moment's notice, but they balk at a single phone-call to my parents. How long have I been asleep? My throat is so dry."
"Three days."
"Three days?!" Hermione exclaimed, immediately regretting her outburst. The next thing Bellatrix did was to hop off the bed and fetch a decanter of water. She helped Hermione sit up and looked on sadly when Hermione reached for the glass with a non-existent hand. So, Bellatrix supported her head and held the glass for her. The cold water tasted like fine wine to Hermione's parched mouth.
"I should get father," said Bellatrix as Hermione lay back down. "He asked me to come fetch him the moment you'd awaken."
"Don't be long," Hermione asked. God, how was she going to explain this to her parents? She could hide the finer details of the war from them, a mistake at the time, but a missing hand would be a bit harder to hide or explain. Maybe she could ease them into it.
'Mum? Dad? There's a bit of me missing'. No. Too vague.
'Mum? Dad? Funny thing happened to me. You know how nan always forgot her book on the train rides down from Scotland? Well, I forgot more than just my book'. Nah, too much levity.
'Mum? Dad? I've been feeding a local wildlife. But I was a bit too enthusiastic about it'. No. Too morbid. Though dad might actually find that one funny… eventually.
Zipper chose to crawl up onto Hermione stomach and curl up to continue sleeping. By now, Hermione had fully accepted him as a pet… no, a friend. He had definitely gone above and beyond. She and moved to pet him with a non-existent hand only to realize that wouldn't do.
Curses, this would really take some getting used to.
As it turned out, she didn't have to wait long to break the news to her parents. Bellatrix came back into the room with both sets of parents in tow. Hermione quickly stuffed her arm under the blankets. Immediately, both her parents rushed her, her father taking her in a firm embrace while her mother hugged them both. "Oh Hermione," she muttered. "Your poor hand."
Ah. Of course they'd already know.
"How could this have happened?" muttered her father just as Zipper crawled out of the group hug and buzzed away, flying over to this hutch and headed inside to resume his rest away from the noisy people.
By the time that her father finally let Hermione go from the rib-and-spine-crushing hug, Hermione noticed that Bellatrix' father stood by her side while the butler Sebastian was setting up a table on which was a bowl filled with a silver liquid.
"That doesn't look like soup," spoke Hermione mother.
"You never know with places like this," said her father. "I heard one of the maids whispering again."
"The maids?" asked Hermione.
"Aye," said Jack. "Apparently having muggles in this household is a big thing. I've heard the maids wondering what the house is coming to."
Hermione snorted. Ironic how it was the maids who were most upset about having muggles in the house.
"Mon dieu!" exclaimed Bellatrix' mother. "The Grangers are our honoured guests! The young maids should learn to behave themselves!"
"Mistress Black," the butler Sebastian nodded briefly. "I shall have words with Cordelia, Goneril and Regan. I assure you it will not happen again."
Cygnus chuckled, leaning on his cane. "We'll be seeing more of the Grangers in the near future. They need to get used to the idea."
"What is that, Cygnus?" asked Jack. Hermione was, in fact, delighted that both their fathers seemed to be getting along quite well. Though judging by the way they often glanced at one another, their mothers seemed to be a tad wary of each other yet.
"This," said Cygnus. "Is my gift to your daughter. A reward, of a sort, for your bravery in finding Bellatrix and fighting Rodolphus Lestrange when she could not."
He first roved his wand over her body, apparently satisfied with the result. He asked Sebastian to move the table a little closer, to have it within arm's reach. "If you are feeling weak, that has to do with some of the curses Rodolphus cast at you. The severed hand and the blood-loss were easy enough to deal with, but the internal damage and the magical burns those curses did were much more severe than they first seemed. You will need at least two more weeks to recuperate, but you are strong enough to receive my gift."
Hermione looked on in fascination as Cygnus took her arm and undid the bandage, grimacing as she saw the extent of the damage done to her arm. He gently lay her arm near the bowl and started chanting arcane words she didn't recognize. Immediately, the silver-like substance started to churn.
"That looks like mercury," said Hermione.
"It currently is," replied Cygnus. "But not for long."
Hermione gasped when the liquid poured itself out of the bowl and started to slither towards her. Her first instinct was to pull her arm away, but Cygnus kept it in place. More arcane words, more wand waving.
The glob of mercury attached itself to her wrist. There was an odd sensation of the liquid first encompassing and then fusing to her skin. It churned again and when Cygnus told her to lift her arm, she did. The glob remained attached to her wrist.
"It needs some time to 'read' you," said Cygnus.
Hermione kept watching as the glob started to change shape while she felt the liquid painlessly penetrate her skin, knitting to her bone. Then, the glob reshaped itself: it formed knuckles, nails, veins, precisely to the shape of her hand. It was a perfect replica, with the one except that it was entirely silver. Fascinated, Hermione moved her fingers and found that she could move the metal hand as if it was flesh. It was a bit awkward at first, with fingers not bending properly. But soon the magic metal started to obey commands from her brain.
"Whoa!" her father gasped. "That thing looks cool!"
Hermione chuckled. Trust her dad to love this sort of thing. Turning her attention back to her hand, she wiggled her fingers. "This… is the same type of silver hand given to Peter Pettigrew by Voldemort."
"Hm," Cygnus half-smiled. "Voldemort did not have monopoly on dark magic. And, make no mistake, dark magic was very much required for the crafting of the mercury brew. Owning a silver hand is not illegal, but crafting one is. So do me a favour and don't mention where you got it from."
"I promise," smiled Hermione.
"Mercury?" said Emma Granger. "Isn't that poisonous."
"Not anymore, madame Granger," Druella interjected. "It is quite safe. Technically, it is no longer mercury after mixed with the magic."
The hand was very movable and Hermione was surprise to actually feel something when she raked it over the sheets. "Was that… me actually feeling something or still phantom feelings?"
"You should feel basic pressure and weight," said Cygnus. "You will know you're touching something, but nothing beyond that. You won't be able to feel if something is hard or soft, warm or cold, smooth or rough. It'll never be more than that. It will still be a facsimile which will never quite be the same as your own hand, particularly when it comes to finer movements. With effort, you will be able to learn to write with it, but I would suggest getting used to left-hand spellcasting."
Hermione smiled at him. "Still better than no hand at all. Thank you."
Cygnus took a small device and clamped it around the hand with leather straps. A thick steel bolt lay in the palm, preventing her from closing her new hand. "That device will help you get used to having a silver hand and prevents you from accidentally hurting yourself or others until you have firmer control. Be careful and I mean it. Your new hand can crush granite effortlessly."
"Well," said her father. "That thing just got 100% cooler."
"Dad," Hermione rolled her eyes.
Apparently, there was a celebration in one of the manor's many solariums and they would be headed there too. Rather confidently, Hermione tried to get out of bed only to find that her legs were like wet noodles. Sebastian helped her to get into a conveniently brought wheelchair and, after covering her legs with a warm plaid blanket, Hermione found herself being wheeled along with her family to one of the manor's many solariums.
The weather was quite pleasant outside, warming the room. A small buffet with foods which looked far too expensive for her sake was located near the window.
"HAH!" greeted Nymphadora the moment she saw them, spliff in her mouth as expected. "Heard you completely buggered up Rodolphus Lestrange. Good on you, Hermione!"
"Dora!" said Andromeda from her chair, being sat next to Ted. "Language!"
"English!" Dora helpfully answered.
Achille was happily painting away, grabbing a new canvas to paint Hermione in her wheelchair while Bellatrix was sat next to her holding her good hand. Narcissa were there as well, along with Draco. Draco seemed rather quiet for once, regarding her silver hand. Hermione's father moved to see what was on tap at the buffer, while her mother and Cygnus started chatting and Druella linked arms with Nymphadora. A moment later, Zipper came flying into the room and landed near Narcissa on the table. Though she was quite a bit wary, Narcissa slowly reached over to scratch his back. Apparently, Narcissa had found a sweet spot as Zipper dipped forward and fluttered his wings.
Life was good.
Especially when Bellatrix started spoon-feeding her beluga caviar.
Oddly enough, Bellatrix had been uncharacteristically quiet, to a point that is started to make Hermione a bit wary. The young witch smiled at her girlfriend. "Bella?" she asked. "What's wrong."
Bellatrix bit her lip, before apparently steeling herself.
"I want to marry Hermione!" Bellatrix spoke to the room, a bit too loud for comfort.
All conversations stopped. All heads turned.
Bellatrix bit her lip, dipped her head and spoke again. "I want to marry Hermione!" she stressed.
"Trix," Hermione blinked.
"I'm serious!" said Bellatrix. "I don't see myself spending my life with anyone else than you. I love you. Mister Granger? Jack? I'd respectfully and formally ask for your daughter's hand in marriage," Bellatrix announced.
"Uhmmm," replied Jack, still chewing whatever he had gotten from the buffet able.
"Wait," Hermione frowned. "You want to marry me. Why are asking my father? Shouldn't you be asking me?"
Bellatrix pouted. "Hush, Hermione! That's not how this works!"
"I beg your pardon!?" Hermione frowned, but then sighed. "I love you too, Trix. But aren't we a little young to be married?"
"Pffft, no!" Bellatrix scoffed. "I was to be married to Rodolphus next summer! Or… next summer in 1969, at least. Why can't I be married to you instead?"
Indeed, Hermione realized that Bellatrix was one of a kind: Bellatrix wasn't asking her to marry her. She was demanding it.
"Besides," Bellatrix crossed her arms and adopted a rather pouty expression. "Marriage agreements can take years to negotiate. We'd best make our intentions clear as quickly as possible or we'll both be in thirties before we can walk down the altar."
Cygnus nodded. "That is true," he said. "Negotiations with the Lestranges took well over a decade."
"Hah," Nymphadora chuckled. "I doubt auntie Bella is willing to wait that long."
Narcissa took a sip from her long-stemmed glass of wine before shaking her head. "Our dearest Bella was always impatient. Though in this case, I believe Bella is right to pounce before someone else claims miss Granger."
"Mother," Draco rolled his eyes. "Stop that! Her head's big enough already!"
Andromeda got up from her seat, first smiling at Bellatrix and then turning to Hermione's father. "Well, Jack, what do you say?" Andromeda said, smiling cheekily. "Shall we open preliminary negotiations?"
Jack Granger frowned for a moment. "How does this work?"
For a moment, Andromeda's eyes shone dangerously and greedily, as if she was a cat about to start batting around a dying mouse with her paws. "I'll steer you around the procedure. Not to worry. Shall we retreat to my office?"
Jack picked up a basket of bread from the table and followed Andromeda and Sebastian out of the room. It left Hermione and Bellatrix to smile at each other while holding hands. Hands. That was the thing. She turned her head to look at her new silver appendage and closed it around the clamp in her palm. She was actually startled to hear the clamp groan in protest. Apparently, her new hand was putting an enormous amount of pressure on the clamp without her even trying: she'd shudder to think what would happen if she were to shake someone's hand with this amount of force going through it: she could likely crush every bone into dust completely by accident.
Yes, this thing would need some getting used to.
"Well, congratulations, Granger," said Draco, crossing his arms while standing close to her. "You've managed to weasel you way into one of the most prominent and ancient wizarding families around. I know you were ambitious and clever, but I didn't think you'd be this devious. You would have made a good Slytherin, Granger."
"Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment," Hermione replied.
"Hermie would have made an excellent Slytherin!" Bellatrix said, raising her chin imperiously.
"Coming for you, that is rather frightening," Hermione smiled.
Draco shook his head. "When marrying into a prominent house, you could have done a lot worse. Speaking of weasels, imagine marrying into the Weasley family. Talk about taking a step down, ey? Poor Pansy."
"Hey, nothing wrong with the Weasleys," said Hermione. "They're kind and generous people. And Ron is a good friend."
"Right," Draco rolled his eyes. "And you clearly value kindness and generosity over greatness and power, as is evidenced by the fact that you're marrying into the Weasley family instead of the Black family. Oh, wait…"
Hermione made a face. "You're such a rotter, Draco. All those things you mentioned aren't mutually exclusive."
Bellatrix put a finger to her lips. "When we're married, Hermione will be your aunt-in-law," she stated matter of factly.
Draco didn't seem all that amused by that idea. " Excuse me while I try to wrap my head around that."
"You aunt-in-law, hm? Wanna shake on it?" Granger smirked, extending her silver appendage.
"No thank you," Draco glowered.
It was at that moment that Nymphadora stepped up with a radio in hand, sitting down at the table near Hermione's wheelchair to plop the radio down. "Hey, listen to this," she said, the show on the radio being Info-Wizards. "Quiet up! They're talking about Hermione and auntie Bella's giant flesh-eating unicorn!"
With the others gathered around the radio.
"So, we've got more information from our source within the Ministry," spoke Dolohov over the radio. "Apparently, there's been a lot of activity at the Orkney Ministry Black Site the past few days, relating to the creature brought in from the Forbidden Forest incident. Folks, we've learned from our source that this creature, whatever it is, has been classified X6. X6! They have invented a whole new category specifically for this thing! What are your thoughts on that Newt?"
"Troubling to be sure, Antonin," replied Newt Scamander. "For those of you who don't know this, X5 is considered to the most dangerous class of magical beast, known to be wizard killers and impossible to train or domesticate. X5 is the classification of chimaera, basilisks and nundu's, all fearsome beasts. Even dragons have been recently downgraded to X4 after the incident at the Welsh sanctuary. If there is a creature which is considered to be more dangerous that X5, I shudder to think what it could be. With the explosion of new magical creatures of recent days due to the discoveries made by Bellatrix Black and Hermione Granger, there is also an influx of dangerous creatures. For every delightful borse, there is a terrifying mistwalker."
Mistwalker. Bellatrix and Hermione shared a look. Apparently, those things had been turning up in the South American jungles, making an already dangerous place even more dangerous. Judging from Bellatrix' expression of unease, her memories of their encounter with those creatures weren't much better than hers.
"Considering the description of the X5, I shudder to think how an X6 would be described. Knowing the Ministry, they might be looking for a way to exploit or weaponize this creature," said Dolohov. "What do you think, Newt? Would this be possible?"
"Hard to say, Antonin, without knowing more details about this particular beastie," said Newt. "But it is certainly not without precedent. We've seen the Dark Lord use dementors are weapons of war only four years ago. We've known of warlord Owetha Jafari using runespoors to devastating effect. And let's not even mention Japanese Spellswords making use of multiple types of Yokai throughout their history. I think we should be vigilant and I urge the Ministry to be cautious."
Dolohov scoffed. "When has the Ministry ever done anything else than to throw caution in the wind, Newt? SO LISTEN UP! Folks, we need to hold the Ministry's feet to the fire! We must be ready to take them to task! And to all you Ministry drones who I know are listening in, I just want to say this: Don't think you can hide anything from us! Because we're always watching!"
As Nymphadora turned down the radio, Bellatrix crossed her arms. "I should call in," said Bellatrix. "Tell them the truth. Tell them about the unicorn."
"Not now, Trix," chuckled Hermione. "Save it for your book. And don't tell me you're not already planning it. I could see your eyes light up the moment I said it."
"Maybe," Bellatrix winked. "Maybe not."
After some more pleasant chatting and enjoying the snacks, Hermione started to feel a lot more comfortable. She could quite get used to this: the Black family was very close and surprisingly welcoming, while their library contained more books than she could read in an entire lifetime. Not that she wouldn't give it a try to read all of them, of course. The best moment came when Bellatrix sat in her lap and pressed her lips against hers, hugging her tight. There was an endearing child-like enthusiasm to Bellatrix which reminded Hermione why she had fallen in love with her in the first place.
About half an hour after they left, Hermione saw her father and Andromeda returning. Her father was looking rather triumphant while Andromeda seemed to be rather confused.
"Ah," spoke Cygnus. "How were the preliminary negotiations? I remember the negotiations both with Abraxis Malfoy and Bivander Lestrange. Even the preliminary talks were rife with veiled hostility. I gather Jack treated you well, Andromeda?"
Andromeda blinked, apparently lost in thought before snapping out of it. "Ah, yes, uhm, well, Jack and I have reached an agreement."
Cygnus' jaw almost hit the ground while Druella gave her daughter an appreciative look. "Oh, well done, Minette," Druella spoke.
"Good show, Dromeda!" chuckled Ted.
"Yay!" Bellatrix cheered.
"Thirty minutes?" Narcissa frowned. "That has to be some sort of record."
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to get rid of Hermione, Jack," Andromeda put her hands on her hips. "It was very pleasant. Hermione will take the name Black after the wedding, which was my main demand. I would have expected more resistance from Jack, as it would effectively mean the end of the Granger family line."
"Eh," shrugged her father, making her mother give him a playful pat on the shoulder.
"In the matter of dowry, Hermione is allowed to move into the mansion as a member of the household and will have full access to Black family resources. She will receive a monthly stipend equal to those married into the house. Expenditures above a certain point will have to go through the head of the household, of course. After their deaths, Granger possessions will fall under control of house Black," said Andromeda. "All very standard so far. Jack did have four stipulations, however, and they are minor ones to which I have agreed. The first is that both Hermione and Bellatrix will be allowed to pursue any careers they desire. Second, Hermione will only allowed to be married on or after her 25th birthday."
Bellatrix instantly seized up. "What?!" Bellatrix gasped. "Twenty-five?! That's six years from now!"
Andromeda chuckled, apparently having expected this reaction. "Jack thinks you are both too young to be married and I tend to agree,"
A flash of betrayal crossed Bellatrix' dark eyes as she rather huffily regarded her younger-now-elder sister. Andromeda didn't miss this and crossed her arms defensively, glaring back at her. "Bella," she started. "You are seventeen."
"AND A HALF!" Bellatrix shouted.
"You just escaped one marriage, and now you want to dive head-first into another?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Let's just be girlfriends for a bit, Trix. Enjoy our youth before we lose it to responsibilities."
Bellatrix sighed. "There's a difference. I actually want to marry you," she replied. "But… I suppose you're right."
"You're cute when you're pouty," Hermione chuckled, earning herself a slight punch to the shoulder.
"Good," continued Andromeda. "Third stipulation is that the marriage contract can be annulled beforehand if either party chooses not to go through with the wedding. The fourth stipulation, well, it involves helping to replace and provide funding for a figure collection of a sort."
Hermione blinked. "Dad. You didn't."
"Hey, there were a lot of rare pieces in that collection and I saw an opportunity to help me find and replace them," he smiled.
Cygnus raised an eyebrow. "Believe me, I've heard far stranger demands. As far as stipulations for personal gain go, this one is quite mild."
A moment of quiet discomfort came over Hermione as she realized just what had been happening here. "Wait. Wait. Stop. Have I just been sold?" Hermione frowned.
Bellatrix chuckled. "Don't think about it too hard, Hermie," she said. "It's pretty much par de course in pure-blood families."
"Great," Hermione snorted. "I have just been sold to the Black family in exchange for a bunch of Dalek figures."
"And Star Trek figures," added her father. "Very rare ones too."
Hermione chuckled. "Dad, never change. I love you just the way you are."
"I'll have our solicitors draw up a contract. We'll send it to your representation for verification, Jack," said Andromeda. "Who is?"
"Send it to Emily Watson, of Watson, Watson and Watson, from Providence, Rhode Island," said Jack. "I'll tell her to expect it."
"Ah, a yank," replied Andromeda, apparently not impressed.
Bellatrix was still pouty when Hermione looked at her. Her girlfriend did do her the kindness of actually shifting a little as to not cut off the circulation to her legs, though certainly not giving up Hermione's lap. "Still upset?" Hermione asked.
"It'll pass," said Bellatrix. "I suppose we should spend the next five years learning to live with each other, hm? Wait, that sounded worse than I intended it to sound."
"I get your meaning," said Hermione. "I have to adjust to this lavish lifestyle and you still have to adjust to the time period. How about we just focus on getting our seventh year done and see where life takes us then, hm?"
"Oh, pooh, I forgot all about school," Bellatrix blew some air through her nose and sent some errant locks of curly hair flying after shaking her head. "Thanks for reminding me!"
Hermione smiled. "How about we just enjoy ourselves? Together."
"Definitely," smirked Bellatrix.
It was then that oncle Achille had finished his work, turning his easel around and revealing a freshly painted oil-painting of Hermione sat in her wheelchair with a smiling Bellatrix on her lap and Zipper parked on the top of Hermione's head. Two sad and lonely girls whom had met under the most mysterious of circumstances and had had grand adventures together, along with one surprisingly friendly giant wasp they had picked up along the way.
It wasn't the first painting Achille Rosier had immortalised the two of them it, nor would it be the last.
Almost at the end now. Epilogue next week!
Chapter 50: New BeginningsChapter Text
"I'm just taking it day by day," said Hermione as she lay on the sofa staring at the ceiling. The room was quiet, well-lit and lined with furniture that was at least a hundred years old. She wasn't sure if it was some sort of rule that a therapist's office would be lined with overstocked bookcases, but she definitely appreciated the calming effect it had on her.
"And today is a very special day for you, isn't it?" asked Keeva. Keeva, sat next to the sofa in a chair, spoke with a distinct Irish accent and was constantly scribbling on notepad. Keeva had been her therapist for about four months and she had build up quite a bond of trust with her over that time.
"Hogwarts graduation," chuckled Hermione. "Though I suppose it's more Trix' big day."
Oh-uh. Keeva put her pen down. Hermione glanced sideways and could tell that Keeva had heard something in her voice by the look she was giving her. "Full honestly, Hermione," Keeva reminded her.
Hermione sighed. "It's simply a fact that, when it comes to magical talent, skill and ability, Trix is objectively my superior."
"That was hard for you to admit, wasn't it?"
"Oh, you have no idea," Hermione chuckled for a moment. "I know Trix, I love her to death and I don't begrudge her the tremendous honour giving the graduation valedictorian speech. But part of me still thinks it should have been me standing there."
Keeva cocked her head. "Do you resent Bellatrix for it?"
Hermione pursed her lips. "Maybe, on some level," she said. "We go well together, we work well together, but there's always been a slight level of competition between us… okay, stop giving me this look… it was more than slight, okay? Honesty. I give you honesty."
Keeva chuckled briefly. "With all the work it took to drill open that shell of yours, I will never stop reminding you. Hermione? Do you fear Bellatrix will overshadow you?"
Hermione thought a moment before answering. "Maybe. Once," she said, holding up her right hand. The silver magical prosthetic which she usually covered up with a long black glove. "Cygnus was right about this hand. It's an approximation of one, but not a real one. It's as good as it's going to get. I had to learn how to write and do spellcasting with my non-dominant hand. How I kept up with my schoolwork to be able to graduate this year at all is a small miracle in itself."
"And no mean feat to do in a measure of months," said Keeva. "You should be proud of yourself, Hermione."
"I am, and that's the thing," said Hermione. "This… taught me some important things. All my life I've been trying to fit in, fighting to earn a place for myself, trying to prove myself to others. But my biggest challenge has always been myself. Deep down I've been insecure about everything and it becomes a trap, a downward spiral. Always thinking what I have done wrong, what I could have done differently, how I've failed. Even in my darkest moments, I focused on the wrong things."
"Did Bellatrix made you see otherwise?"
"Yes," Hermione closed her eyes and smiled. "I was trapped in the past, but now I'm focused on the future."
Hermione chuckled for a moment. "Trix is an enigma. She's a prodigy, rightly called the brightest witch of her age, brimming with magical talent. But the path she has chosen for herself, her future, has nothing to do with magic whatsoever. She doesn't even care about the speech, her grades, her schoolwork, never has. But she's bouncing off the walls for next week… when her first book releases."
Keeva smiled. "Yes. 'Girls Out of Time: the true story of Bellatrix Black and Hermione Granger'. I have my copy on pre-order."
"You and the rest of the wizarding world," Hermione snorted. "The book's already in its fourth print run and it hasn't even hit the bookstores yet. She even managed to rope Newt Scamander into writing the foreword. I fear I already told you most of the story the past few months."
"It's alright," said Keeva.
"Am I jealous? Yeah, on some level. Trix managed write a book, do all her schoolwork, work on short horror stories… and she's looking to publish a bundle already I might add… and still sleeps half the day away on weekends. I'm happy for her, but I simply don't know how she does it. Regardless, it was Trix who made me look to the future. To what can be instead of what has been. She has freed me from the trap I built for myself."
"Hermione," Keeva said. "Let's not be too hasty now, hm? You still have quite a road ahead of you. And there's been some bumps along the way."
Hermione sighed. "I hoped you wouldn't bring that up."
Some five weeks ago, after doing so well, Hermione had a severe panic attack after a cauldron exploded in potions. The sound was just too much like the impact sounds of magical artillery used by the Death Eaters and for a moment she was there again. She was shouting, looking for cover and ended up crying in Trix' arms in the middle of class. Though everybody assured her she shouldn't be, the incident left her embarrassed and demoralized. To have come so far and yet be yanked back so easily made her doubt herself even more, to the point that she started entertaining suicidal thoughts again for yet a brief moment.
"I know I have a long road to go," chuckled Hermione. "But no more… dark thoughts… I promise. God, I'll never forget how hard Trix slapped me in the face when I told her I was having those again. Had to be magically enhanced, because it left a mark for an hour."
Hermione closed her eyes and tried to force the tears back. "Without her… If I'd never met her…" she managed while Keeva handed her a Kleenex. "… I sure I would be dead by now. The road I was on before I met her was unsustainable. I was only trying to distract myself but never addressed the real problem. Now I have Trix. Now I have two families who care for me. Trix has been… a beacon. A beacon to guide me out of the darkness. Whenever I feel sad, she is there. Whenever I feel I'm falling back in my old habits, she is there. Whenever I need to be held, she is there."
Keeva chuckled. "Honesty, Hermione."
That made Hermione laugh. "The sex helps too," she shook her head. "The… lots and lots of sex. It's not the core of our relationship, but, god… I fear I might be becoming a full-on sex addict if this keeps up."
"I know Brits prefer not to talk about sex in general…"
"… No sex please, we're British…" Hermione interrupted.
"Quite… but it can be very therapeutic. Especially with a person you're deeply in love with. It gives you focus. Pleasure. Things happen in your brain during sex which bring a lot of positive feelings to the forefront."
"It just feels… tacky to say. I love Bellatrix for her mind, for the person she is, for her her passion, for her quirky sense of humour, for the way she smiles and flips her hair when she's indignant…"
"There's no need to feel that way," said Keeva. "It's exactly the reason why sex with her is so appealing to you. The whole aspect of being together."
It didn't lessen Hermione's embarrassment of having her loins on fire inside her therapist's office at the mere thought of jumping into bed with Trix again later today. And then again after dinner. To think she was a shy nineteen year old virgin until only half a year ago. Making up for lost time, perhaps.
"And what about you, hm?" asked Hermione. "Are you acclimatising?"
"I'm not in therapy here, Hermione," Keeva raised an eyebrow.
"Indulge me," smiled Hermione, turning her head to look at her. "It must be a lot to take in for a muggle."
Keeva put down her pen and notepad. "My cousin's a witch, as you know, so I already knew something of the Wizarding World. It's just that they generally didn't tell us anything else than the major details. So when I was recruited for this program, they just gave me a crash course on magical society and history and then said 'here's a bunch of traumatized kids. Go help them'."
"Not an easy situation to be thrown into," said Hermione.
"The Foundation does its best to help us and, well, a traumatized kid is a traumatized kid and the treatment regimens are mostly the same," said Keeva. "I took this job because I wanted to help people in need. Nobody said it would be easy."
"Well, I'm glad you did," said Hermione as she sat up.
"Indeed, we're making a lot of good progress, Hermione," said Keeva. "And I'll see you again Friday."
"Absolutely," said Hermione as she got up and moved to fetch her coat.
"And, Hermione?" asked Keeva just as Hermione was about to leave the office. "Try not to have sex during the Valedictorian ceremony," Keeva said with a twinkle in her eyes.
Hermione smirked. "No promises."
And so Hermione found herself sat in a compartment of a train as it meandered along the English countryside. Sure, she could have taken the floo network to Manchester, but she had time and it was a nice moment for her self to relax and reflect. Though she fished a book from her backpack, she ended up staring off into the green rolling hills underneath a sunny summer day. Life, indeed, was beautiful and despite the mentioned setbacks, Hermione felt like she was improving. Finally waking up from a nightmare.
A lot had happened since the start of the year.
The fact that therapy was available for her and others at all was thanks to the Bellatrix Foundation. Mental healthcare was unheard of in the Wizarding World, and for centuries the standard method to 'help' someone suffering from mental issues had been to simply lock them away in places like Azkaban. But then there was Druella Black. Druella Black, the woman defeated by the loss, had transformed into a passionate firebrand and had delivered several scathing and inspiring speeches advocating for bringing the field of mental healthcare to the wizarding world.
Of course the Ministry being the Ministry, did all they could to stifle this effort, citing international laws and hiding behind the Statute.
That was until the Grangers won their lawsuit.
Then suddenly the impossible became very much possible.
With the resources of the Bellatrix Foundation and Ministry funding a program was set up to recruit therapists and mental healthcare professionals, mostly muggles with wizarding relatives, from all over the world, give them training and put them to work. Keeva was one of these fine individuals. It pleased Hermione to know that others were now receiving proper care free of charge. Hell, Keeva was the therapist for both Ron and Harry too… though Keeva was no allowed to share details due to doctor-patient confidentiality, the three friends certainly did swap out their sometimes rather confrontational experiences at therapy.
Funny. Keeva didn't mention Hermione's countersuit yet, the one Emily talked her into. Due to the overwhelming evidence of a smear campaign, Hermione had launched her own suit against the Ministry. They had a very strong sense and Hermione had thus far refused any settlement offers. No, this was going to court, everything was going to be public record and she was going to make them bleed. Sure, Hermione was healing, but nobody said she couldn't be spiteful.
Justice for Hermione indeed…
A rather pleasant and quiet ride later, Hermione arrived at Catterborough Woodhouse and quickly found her way to the section of the house where Bellatrix' room was. The end of said wing, which contained the common room and the three rooms once belonging to the Black sisters in their youth, would be her new home starting today. In a multi-generational house where many families could live, sections could be cordoned off to give some privacy. Nymphadora had graciously agreed to move to another room in the house and leave her old room for Hermione and Bellatrix' use. Of course, it would take serious airing and magic to get the weed smell out, but it would make for a very nice office.
Boxes from both her childhood home and Hogwarts with both their belongings had been delivered and had been neatly stacked against the wall, with Zipper's wasp hutch set on top. Her fairy figurines had been carefully packed and it was just a matter of finding a nice way to place them. A designer would be coming by to talk to both of them later in the afternoon to discuss options for room arrangement and furnishing. It would be strange living here in this opulent palace, but she supposed it would be just as strange to ask Bellatrix to move into a council house with her.
For now, she passed the boxes and moved into Bellatrix' room where the dressing room also was. A neatly folded stack of clothing lay waiting for her. A black evening gown would be the foundation and a long black robe with the Gryffindor crest sown onto it would cover it all up during the ceremony. And, of course, it wouldn't be a graduation without a mortar board.
Hermione undressed to put on her evening gown but paused when she looked into the mirror. Her eyes locked onto the glowing crystal around her neck, the crystal from the Fae Realm, now transformed into a magnificent necklace. She admired it for a moment, holding it up for the light to catch through it. She saw the patterns within, almost intoxicating.
"What are you?" Hermione whispered. Rhetorical, of course. Was it a charge? Or, more likely, information. Would she ever know what it was? The very thought of never knowing was infuriating to a bookworm like herself, as was the thought of this alien equivalent to the library of Alexandria reduced to being a decoration. Not much she could do about it, though.
She was about to toss the robe over her head when there was a knock on the door.
"Excuse me, madame Granger," sounded Sebastian from the other side. "Are you decent?"
Hermione tossed down the robe. "Just a moment, Sebastian."
She found the butler patiently waiting for her outside the dressing room. "How can I help?" asked Hermione.
"Master Cygnus is asking for your input at the greenhouse, madame Granger," said Sebastian. "Rather urgently, I might add."
"Alright," said Hermione. "Let's see what this is about."
On the way down to the greenhouse, Hermione reflected on her future. Wizarding universities did not exist and it was usual for young wizards and witches to seek out apprentice-ships with older wizards and witches in chosen fields. Around every graduation there was as flurry of activity as hopeful graduates approached perspective masters. Of course, Hermione was still a controversial figure, despite having won her case. As a result she suspected nobody would want to attach their name to hers. Realizing this sad fact was perhaps one of the underlying causes for Hermione's setback a few weeks ago. That was until Cygnus stepped in, a capable wizard who was beyond caring about politics and saving face. He had agreed to apprentice her on whatever path she would desire.
Which only left her to wonder what path to follow.
The answer came to her after a week of soul-crunching. And that answer was independent research. Catterborough Woodhouse had a greenhouse, though calling it like that would be a misnomer: it was a three-storied, wrought-iron Victorian style indoor garden with enough space to house a small zoo. It had fallen in disuse over the past few decades and Cygnus had agreed to convert it into a massive herbology lab for Hermione. She and Bellatrix had had great success growing some of the seeds from the Fae Realm at Hogwarts and Hermione was planning to repeat that on a much larger scale. There were many seeds she had picked up from the Fae Realm which she hadn't shared with the world or attempted to grow yet. A perfect starting point.
When she stepped into the greenhouse, goblin construction crews were hard at work dividing the greenhouse into sections, adding additional staircases and laying the pipe-networks necessary for the irrigation system. Among the sounds of construction, she could hear the goblin foreman raising his voice to explain some sort of problem to Cygnus over the hammering, welding and sawing.
"Ah, there you are!" Cygnus called over. "Could you talk mister Rankras here? He's encountered some kind of problem here and this is all rather beyond me."
Rankras, clad in overalls and looking rather rough, was leagues different than his banking cousins and endlessly more honest. He and his crew were hard at work to get everything ready and as soon as Hermione was in earshot, the goblin lay down the blueprints and tapped it with his finger. "As I was explaining to mister Black here," said Rankras. "Plans got one of the mains running along the room, but to put it where you want it, we'd have to drill big holes through four boughs keeping this rounded roof up. Wrought-iron is soft metal and there's already holes in them by design. Any more in the wrong places will weaken the structure. Won't be next week or even next year, but if we do that it'll eventually send the whole thing crashing down."
"I see the problem," said Hermione. "What do you propose?"
Rankras pointed to the blueprint. "Route the pipe to the middle of the structure and hang it from underneath the boughs. Shore up the undersection of the boughs with some steel pins. It'll easily hold the weight and maintain water pressure. Could be a bit unsightly, but there'll be only some extra material cost and you won't have to worry about your greenhouse collapsing on top of you."
"I couldn't tell if moving that pipe would have negative effects on the way you set up the biomes in the greenhouse," added Cygnus. "Technology and I… don't get along."
"Don't worry about it," said Hermione. "Rankras, I defer to your judgment. You're the professional here. Do what you think is needed."
Rankras seemed surprised for a moment, then grinned slightly. Apparently he wasn't used to being treated in a trustworthy matter. "Right you are, then. The boys and I will deliver on time and on budget, as promised."
As the goblins went back to work, Cygnus rubbed the back of his head. "I apologize for disturbing you, but I wanted to check with you. Honestly, all this talk about pipes, water pressure, structural integrity, branch values and pump strengths… All I know about pipes is that if I turn a valve, water appears."
"Think nothing of it," smiled Hermione as she saw her new herbology lab taking shape. She was going to do great things here. Research and discovery and, well, there was something deeply cathartic about making things grow.
Of course, there was also the one patch which had been claimed by Nymphadora, as the small sign which read 'KEEP OUT!' underneath a cartoonishly drawn skull and bones. Nymphadora had a surprisingly effective green thumb when it came to growing cannabis. Hermione was happy to grandfather in this one patch of soil for Nymphadora's personal use, especially since Dora was more than happy to share some tips on cultivating plants underneath heat lamps with her.
"TIENS!" sounded behind them. Druella Black, dressed in a fine robe, strode into the greenhouse looking rather less than amused. "Why are you two not dressed yet? The graduation ceremony starts in ten minutes!"
Cygnus leaned on his cane, looking rather sheepishly. "I, uh, there was an issue…"
Hermione almost gulped. "… the construction crew needed input…"
"Excuses, excuses!" huffed Druella. "To your dressing room maintenant! Vite! Vite vite vite vite vite!"
In less than five minutes, Hermione returned for her dressing room. Clad in robe and mortar board on her head, the family made their way to Hogwarts by floo. There, all the Seventh year students mulled about clad in robes and mortar boards with their families gathered in the Great Hall. Of course, Hermione's mother gave her some scolding of her own for being late, while Nymphadora seemed to be admiring the massive lens on her father's family camera. Andromeda was in conversation with McGonagall, while Hermione surmised that Bellatrix was likely backstage preparing for her speech.
Among the students mulled a slew of familiars, mostly cats, rats and toads, as well as the occasional dog as these had been more recently allowed to be kept by students. As were… four wasps.
Bellatrix and Hermione had been trend-setters in a way. The giant wasps were found to be affectionate and loyal companions, while the hive now established in Belgium had been sending out solitary wasps to learn more about the new world they had found themselves in. The two aligned perfectly and meant that the wasps were far more intelligent than they had initially been given credit for. In fact, Bellatrix and Hermione had been planning a summer trip to the Ardennes for Zipper to visit his friends.
The four wasps were all clearly individual characters. Tank was a wasp easily twice the size of Zipper and flew rather awkwardly at times. Tank was always eating and, while parked on the head of his equally massive companion, was already eyeing the buffet set up to the side of the Great Hall. Rosie was a smaller wasp and was attracted to bright colours, such as the Gryffindor house banner. She often flew off to inspect red-coloured items. Salvador was a more introspective wasp, didn't really like crowds and seemed far less playful than the other wasps: he reminded Hermione of an old cat somewhat. Lastly, Wendy was a friendly wasp who liked people and enjoyed decorating herself with smears of pollen and dirt.
It wasn't long until the ceremony began. McGonagall went up to the podium. Her mere presence there stopped the cacophony of sounds immediately. McGonagall scraped her throat to begin her speech.
"Gathered students, families and friends," she started. "Since my tenure as Head Mistress of this fine institution started, days like today have become those I treasure the most. For it is graduation where we teachers see the fruits of our labour. It is where we see the students we have nurtured and guided spread their wings and fly towards their future. It is my hope that you will remember your time at Hogwarts fondly, remember the friendships you have forged, the knowledge you have gained and the lessons you have learned as a guiding force for the rest of your life. Magic is not a right, it is a privilege. And it was must always be used wisely and responsibly. Today marks the end of one journey and the start of a new one. Not to diminish all your accomplishments, but there is always one student whose talents stand above all others. A student who has achieved the most. A student who will be granted the honour of addressing his or her peers during this ceremony. This year, the honour belongs to Bellatrix Black."
Bellatrix appeared, looking rather awkward in her long robe and mortar board. She strode to the podium while Zipper, usually sat on her head, attempted to balance himself on top of the mortar board without causing either to fall off of her head. Bellatrix took the stage through applause and, again, Hermione felt that pang of jealously. Indeed, that could have been her up there.
"Well," said Bellatrix just as her dad was snapping pictures next to Hermione. "I'll keep this short since I'm reasonably sure you've all had quite enough of this hellhole right now and want to get this over with as quickly as possible."
A laughter went through the crowd and Hermione could just see the slightest hint of McGonagall's expression turning into a flash of annoyance before her smile returned.
Bellatrix took a deep breath. "I've… had an interesting year to say the least," she said. "I'd like to tell you all about my accomplishments, achievements or whatever, but, truth be told, I wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't for one person. One girl. I'd likely be dead and buried in a shallow grave without her stubbornness."
Hermione gulped as heads started to turn towards her.
"I was never one to depend on others. Not on friends. Not even on family. Hell, more people depended on me than the other way around. One girl convinced me to look towards the future. And I now have a future. So yeah, I suppose what I really want to say is… sometimes only relying on yourself is not enough. Sometimes you have to let someone else in to make sure you'll have a future," said Bellatrix, eyes now locked with Hermione's. "That someone for me was Hermione Granger. If there's someone like Hermione out there for you, grab her and never let her go."
Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes as she stood there, surrounded by the family she had and the family she found.
Bellatrix smirked briefly. "Also, buy my book, it'll be out next week."
Some laughter went to the crowd and McGonagall handed Bellatrix her diploma. The rest of the ceremony went off without a hitch. Each student was being called up to the podium in alphabetical order to receive applause and a diploma. When it was Hermione's turn, there were the usual cheers, though those of her family seemed loaded and when McGonagall handed her her diploma, she gave her an apologetic smile. Hah, Hermione wondered if she was really that obvious.
The moment she stepped off the podium, Bellatrix grabbed her by the arm. "Come on," whispered Bellatrix. "This'll be going on for a bit."
Hermione was about to say that would be rather rude, but was already being dragged into the corridor. Hermione followed her in silence as they both ran through the corridors, up stairs and towards a much higher ground of the castle. They stopped near a door near McGonagall's office, where Bellatrix squatted near the lock and started fiddling with her wand and… a small mirror? Some fiddling later and the lock opened with a satisfying snick.
"Hah!" chuckled Bellatrix. "Thirty-three years later and McGonagall still hasn't fixed the lock."
Soon, both girls stood on the parapet of one of the highest towers, on a warm sunny day overlooking the lake and the rolling hills. They stood together there for a moment.
"I meant every word I said, you know?" said Bellatrix.
"I think we're each other's future," said Hermione. "You said that you wouldn't be standing here with me. Well, I wouldn't be standing here without you. I don't know where I'd be now without you."
Bellatrix chuckled. "We're quite a pair, aren't we?"
"Quite."
"God, I fucking hate this place. I always fucking hated it," Bellatrix muttered. "AND NOW I'M FREE OF IT FOREVER!"
With a cry of victory, Bellatrix yanked the mortar board from her head and tossed it away with as much force as she could muster, sending it flying into the abyss below while cackling like a witch of old.
Of course, Zipper shot off in said abyss and, mere moments later, teleported back with the mortal board in his mandibles to hand it back to Bellatrix.
Hermione laughed while Bellatrix pouted fiercely. "Zipper!" she sighed.
"He really is a flying dog," Hermione smiled while Bellatrix picked him up and pressed him against her chest.
Bellatrix went silent for a moment. "I wanted you to see this, Hermie. I wanted this to be one of the last places to visit before I never come back here. I spent so much time here back in '68. Came up here to be away from people. Just to think. Sometimes to cry when I was sure no one could see me."
"I'm glad you did," said Hermione. "It's beautiful. You're beautiful. And our future is beautiful."
They turned to each other, their lips touched. Their tongues met. Their passions clashed. They pressed their bodies together as they kissed hungrily, high up in the sky underneath the sun. When they broke their kissed and when Trix was looking at her rather cheekily, wicked thoughts came over Hermione.
"How about…" Hermione husked. "… we head over to the Astronomy tower for a last-chance shag to end all shags?"
Bellatrix grinned, leaned in to whisper in her eyes. "Bugger the Astronomy Tower. I already put down candles, a soft blanket and a bowl of strawberry syrup right around the corner of this very parapet," she whispered. And when the lip of Bellatrix' tongue flicked around her earlobe, Hermione was almost ready to lay Bellatrix down on the ground then and there.
"You… know me far too well, Trix…" Hermione gulped.
Bellatrix let out a brief giggle. "You are slightly predicable."
"Predictable?!" Hermione huffed.
"Slightly," Bellatrix pressed.
There were giggles all the way to the blanket around the corner, which were silenced by kisses, soft sighs and declarations of love as robes and clothes were being shed.
The future looked bright indeed.
Notes:
And that ends Breaking the Window. Thank you all for going on this journey with me and I hope you've enjoyed reading the story as much as I have enjoyed writing it.
It won't be the end for our girls as I have plans for a sequel. Which is now out and can be found under the title "Breaking the Window: Expedition to Hyperborea". I hope you will enjoy!