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Sirius Orion Black wasn’t an overly shockable man.
Former heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, first-born son of Orion and Walburga Black, he had been sorted into Gryffindor back in the day. The so-called scandal had turned his whole world upside down, leaving him a quivering mess. Literally. Never had he experienced the Cruciatus Curse until that fateful year. Or the insults, the cold stares, the threats… To make things worse, he had befriended one James Potter, whose family was thought to be blood-traitors by most of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
During his years at Hogwarts, he had been quite the prankster. A fourth of the infamous Marauders. Seeing many of their pranks backfire rather nastily had toughened him up over the years. Furthermore, he had been sliced open by Severus Snape once. A curse called Sectumsempra, created by Snivellus himself, James had told him after he’d regained consciousness. The group had also supported Remus Lupin during his monthly transformations, becoming unregistered Animagi in order to assist him.
And talking about Moony– they started dating shortly after Sirius had gotten disowned by his deranged family once and for all. What a way to give those damned snakes the finger.
Surprisingly enough, he had been there when James proposed to Lily Evans. He had seen with his very own eyes how Lily had said yes whilst in tears. They had teased him nonstop, happy for their newly engaged friends. “Darn, I owe Wormtail five galleons…” Sirius had mocked, feigning annoyance. “I bet you’d end up alone for eternity.”
Ah, Wormtail, yes… The bloody traitor had betrayed them all after years of unconditional friendship. The Potters had made him Secret-Keeper, trusting him with their life. The blasted rat, however, had decided to tell Voldemort all about their location. Peter Pettigrew’s betrayal would never cease to hurt, much to his dismay.
Even to this day, the mere mention of Voldemort made him want to spew.
Tom Riddle, a half-blood wizard with a penchant for the Dark Arts and the concept of immortality, had nearly destroyed everything he had once loved. With some pretty lies and a few absurd arguments, the wicked man had seduced most of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families. The House of Black had supported Him fully, driven by their pureblood elitism, though never officially. His dear brother, little Regulus, had joined the Death Eaters somewhere down the line. Unseen and unheard, Regulus had found and retrieved one of Voldemort’s many Horcruxes… At the expense of his own life. Sirius never stopped mourning his loss.
Gradually, the Order of the Phoenix had somehow found the remaining five Horcruxes before the grand finale.
Together, they had lured Voldemort into a nondescript forest. The highlight of the battle had been, much to Sirius’ eternal chagrin, the arrival of one Severus Snape. Unbeknownst to their powerful yet overconfident foe, the Apparition wards had started functioning again after Snape’s calculated entrance. Believing that his ‘loyal’ Death Eater had come to his aid, Voldemort had cackled with delight. Snivellus had merely shaken his head. With a sharp flick of his wrist, a bag containing all of Voldemort’s inanimate Horcruxes had appeared at his side. Smiling grimly whilst taking a step back, the man had aimed his wand at the bag and Voldemort’s damned snake, blasting them all away with a nonverbal Fiendfyre. The so-called Dark Lord had never seen that coming.
Sirius and James had taken advantage of Voldemort’s momentary distraction, ganging up on him at the speed of light. The man had been hysteric, casting vicious curses back and forth without much of a thought. He had engaged in a losing battle.
“This is what you get for trying to mess with my family, you piece of shit!” James had exclaimed, filled with ire and blazing determination, before casting the Killing Curse on Voldemort. The surprised look on his snake-like face had been absolutely cathartic.
The remaining Death Eaters had gone into hiding, frightened shitless now that their Lord had been defeated. Cowards, the lot of them. Snape had died about a year later rather tragically, unable to outlive the curse that had been casted upon him by one of the Horcruxes he had destroyed.
Over the years, he had watched the Black Family Tapestry expand– his uncle, Cygnus Black III, had sired three daughters. Sirius had run his fingers over the embroidered names, wishing them luck. They would definitely need it– purebloods were awfully backwards, always had been, so they cherished male heirs above anything else. Poor girls. Smiling to himself, he committed those three names to memory: Bellatrix Druella Black, Andromeda Cassiopeia Black and Narcissa Lysandra Black.
Thanks to his godson, Harry James Potter, he had eventually met them. After a Quidditch match. Slytherin versus Gryffindor, quite an interesting game. The sisters were nice and funny in their own quirky ways, but Sirius could tell that some damage had already been done.
All in all, Sirius Orion Black wasn’t someone who could be easily shocked.
However, when his three little cousins showed up outside Grimmauld Place early on Christmas morning without prior warning, looking the worse for wear, Sirius was stunned into absolute silence. Upon noticing that one of them was severely splinched and losing blood at an alarming speed, he couldn’t help but scream,
“What in the actual fuck!”
Looking downright miserable, Sirius stepped into the Burrow’s animated living room. The scent of Molly’s delicious Christmas lunch reached his nostrils, making him sigh wearily. His stomach growled, but he didn’t feel particularly hungry. All eyes fell on him right away. The cheerful mood dampened in a matter of seconds.
“Padfoot, what’s wrong?” James inquired softly, sitting beside his best friend. Behind him, Harry stared at his godfather — his uncle — wide-eyed. “Where’s Moony? Did something happen?”
Exhausted, Sirius waved a dismissive hand. “He’s still at Grimmauld. Will arrive in a bit, don’t worry. Molly, could I have some firewhiskey?” The Weasley matriarch waved her wand, summoning an opened bottle. “Thank you. And to answer your question, dear Prongs… My cousins showed up at my place some hours ago. A Christmas miracle, so to speak.”
And then, everyone spoke in unison. “What did they want?”
With a sigh, Sirius popped the bottle open, took a large swing and snorted dryly. “Shelter, I guess.” Another sip, another weary exhale. Some colour rushed to his overly pale cheeks. “Seems like they ran away from Black Manor, Merlin knows why.”
Silence reigned over the room, uncharacteristic and awkward, until Sirius growled something under his breath. Hastily, he jumped to his feet and started pacing around the crowded space. He broke out in a cold sweat, unpleasant memories from a childhood not-quite-forgotten rushing back to his head.
“I– Bella was gravely splinched,” the man stated grimly. Everyone winced, sympathising with the absent witch, whilst Hermione Granger let out a shocked gasp. Ah, young love. Better not tell her that dear Bella had been spasming for about half an hour, courtesy of the good ol’ Cruciatus Curse. “Moony and I tended her wounds and gave her some healing salves. The girl’s strong, she’ll be up and around in no time.”
He looked at the fireplace, growing anxious. The flames were still red. He could feel Hermione’s concerned eyes on him.
“Andy was panicking hard,” Sirius continued. “Kept staring at her bloodstained hands… Said that everything was her fault,” he took another large swing of firewhiskey. “By the time I left, Moony was talking to her, trying to calm her down a bit.”
Sirius ran a hand through his long hair, finding tangles everywhere. “And Cissa– dear Merlin, Narcissa snapped,” the younglings shared confused looks. “Cissa screamed at Andy. Told her, and I quote, to get her shit together. I found her brewing something about an hour or two later– a Blood-Replenishing Potion, I think.”
Ron and Ginny Weasley, Harry and Hermione gawked at Sirius in utter disbelief. Narcissa Black, yelling at someone– at her older sister? Using such crude language? Showing emotions? Unbelievable. Nobody seemed surprised by the last statement, though. Hermione and Ron had found the young Slytherin witch brewing potions past curfew during their Prefect rounds more than once.
The fireplace’s flames turned green.
Remus stepped into the living room, looking absolutely dreadful. “Good afternoon,” he greeted lamely, heading towards his fiance like a man on a mission. “The situation’s under control. Well, mostly.”
“Thanks, Moony,” Sirius smiled grimly, pulling him into a tight yet brief hug. “Listen up, everyone. I know that some of you get along with my cousins just fine,” he glanced at Fred, George, and Ginny. Based on what he’d been told, the Weasley kids loved scheming pranks with Bellatrix and Andromeda from time to time. Definitely not enough, in Sirius’ humble opinion. “And that others don’t,” he eyed Harry and Ron pointedly. The two complained a bit too much about certain raven-haired Slytherin Seeker from time to time. Seeker, just like Regulus. His heart ached. “But– well, they’ll be joining Christmas dinner at Grimmauld. Do behave.”
The prankster telling everyone to behave– what had the world come to?
Fold the paper. Reach for some adhesive tape. Secure the gift-wrap. Put a nice little ribbon on top of the packages and voilá.
Hermione nodded to herself, making extra sure that the small Christmas presents were properly wrapped. Seeing no undesired openings, she put them inside one of her extended pockets and stretched her back with a gloomy smile.
Dinner at Grimmauld was in ten minutes.
Worry clawed at the back of her mind, nigh-on overwhelming. Like a persistent nagging itch she couldn’t scratch by any means. Before returning to Grimmauld Place, Sirius had offered her a very vague description of Bella’s splinching. “ Just in case you decide to get frisky tonight, ” he had tried to joke, clearly anxious. “ Her upper arms and shoulders were missing some good chunks of… You know. I’ll make sure to check on her regularly, you have my word. ”
The Weasley family rushed into the living room, chatting away. The twins, Harry and Ron were carrying steamy pots, probably filled with Molly’s famous potatoes. Or Lily’s turkey with stuffing. Perhaps some cranberry sauce. Brussel sprouts, maybe. Hermione’s mouth watered, her troubles momentarily forgotten.
Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Potter carried a couple of bags each, filled with wrapped packages to the brim.
“Boys, you go first,” said Molly, throwing some Floo Powder into the flames. “And make sure to help Sirius and James set the table!”
The Weasley sons rolled their eyes playfully, but Harry smiled warmly at the red-headed woman. Hermione watched them take turns, growing more and more anxious with each passing second.
“Sickle for your thoughts?” whispered Ginny, pressing the silver coin into Hermione’s clenched hand. “You look– er, distracted.”
Hermione sighed wearily, glancing at the Sickle with teary eyes. When had that happened? “I’m nervous, worried. How could I not be? My girlfriend has gotten splinched, Gin– something really bad must have happened,” breathed Hermione. Her stomach was in knots. Trying to lighten up the mood a bit, Hermione forced a laugh. “B-Besides, I’ve never had dinner with her.”
“Everything’s going to be alright, you worrywart,” replied Ginny, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. The redhead grabbed some Floo Powder, tossed into the fireplace and smirked. “Unlike some, you do have table manners. See you!”
With that being said, Ginny exclaimed, “12 Grimmauld Place!” and disappeared from sight.
The brunette chuckled at her best friend’s antics.
“Hermione, dear,” said Mrs. Potter in a soothing voice. “We are here for you,” Her eyes shimmered with motherly love, chasing all of Hermione’s worries away. “I know it’s hard, but don’t let the situation get under your skin, okay?”
“And try to enjoy yourself,” Mrs. Weasley added with a knowing wink. Hermione’s heart melted a little– even though Hermione had turned Ronald down, unfortunately breaking his heart in the process, Molly had been nothing but understanding.
Hermione glanced at Mrs. Weasley’s bag, where a package covered in silver and green gift-wrap stuck out a bit. Yes, Ginny was right. Everything would be okay.
Feeling immensely better, Hermione nodded at both women. “Thank you so much, really.” After taking a deep breath, Hermione grabbed some Floo Powder, threw it and stepped into the emerald flames. “12 Grimmauld Place!”
Seconds later, Hermione dizzily walked into Sirius’ unused living room, the one with the Black Family Tapestry. “Still think Floo Network is way better than flying on a broomstick,” Hermione grumbled under her breath, fighting against the giddiness. Molly and Lily appeared behind her, seemingly unaffected by the Floo Network’s unpleasant side effects. Life was unfair like that. With twin smiles, the witches headed to the dining room.
Shortly after, several voices resounded through the household. Screams, affectionate insults and howls of laughter ensued. Hermione followed suit, humming to herself. The suffocating worry, the sickening dread and the overwhelming restlessness returned, growing more and more powerful with each and every step she took.
Upon reaching the main corridor, the witch stopped dead in her tracks.
The Black sisters were going downstairs, arguing with each other through gritted teeth.
Narcissa was leading the way, looking back and forth between her elder sisters. The little blonde wore a blue gown, which highlighted her ice-blue eyes… Which had dark rings beneath them. The witch looked exhausted, old beyond her years. She was thirteen. Andromeda stood one step behind her, looking awfully twitchy. The brunette wore muggle jeans — courtesy of one Ted Tonks, probably — and a grey flannel shirt. Her chocolate eyes shimmered with guilt, shame and regret.
And last but not least, Bellatrix.
There were simply no words to describe the raven-haired witch. Not accurately enough, at least. Clad in black trousers — which had Hermione gasping for air — and a dark green button-down shirt, Bellatrix Black looked both insanely beautiful and downright dreadful. Her already fair skin was paler than pale, sickly so. Somehow, her untamable curls were even wilder than usual. Just like Narcissa, she had dark rings beneath her onyx eyes and looked old beyond her years. A couple of her shirt’s buttons were unfastened, revealing clean bandages for the world to see.
“Stop fussing over me, I’m okay,” hissed Bellatrix, clearly not okay. Her steps were stiff, lacking their usual power and sharp movements. Exhaustion dripped from her raspy voice.
“Don’t lie to us, Bella, it’s unbecoming,” Narcissa tutted, shaking her head at her oldest sister. Though her words seemed detached, they were laced with undeniable worry.
Andromeda sighed, running a hand through her brown curls. The girl grimaced, finding more tangles than hair. “Cissa, maybe you should– er, work on your phrasing a bit. You sound just like Mother.”
The youngest Black winced, as though physically slapped.
Bellatrix spotted Hermione before her sisters could add anything else to their pseudo-conversation. “Hullo, pet,” drawled the raven-haired witch, offering her a tired smile. “Good to see you again.”
When the three Slytherin students finally arrived at the corridor, Bellatrix leaned forward and gave Hermione a quick yet gentle kiss. Her lips tasted like various beverages — namely Blood-Replenishing Potion, Calming Draught and Healing Potion — and butterbeer. Hermione frowned upon identifying the last flavour, but Bellatrix merely chuckled whilst walking towards the dining room at an agonizingly slow pace.
“What a menace,” groaned Andromeda. Bellatrix’s amused cackle echoed through the hallway, followed by a pained hiss. “Can we put Bella back to sleep, Cissa? I need a break from her already.”
Narcissa huffed, rolling her eyes. Her mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. “Not yet, I’m afraid.”
They shared knowing, mischievous smiles. Ah, playful banter between siblings– definitely a thousand times better than bitter screams, tense bodies, guilty looks and awkward silence.
“Are you coming or what!”
Shaking their heads, Andromeda and Narcissa walked towards the dining room. Hermione followed suit, trying not to fly off the handle. Even her jaw shook with barely contained rage. Bloody Slytherins, always so cryptic and nonsensical.
“What’s wrong with you!” The Gryffindor wanted to yell. “This is no time to joke around! What in the world happened to you three? Why are you acting as though nothing had happened? Why did Bella get splinched? Why is any of this Andromeda’s fault? Why did Narcissa lose her temper?”
Why, why, why, why…
Lost in thoughts, Hermione sat right in front of Bellatrix at the dinner table. Narcissa took a seat next to her, sandwiched between her elder sisters. Her ice-blue eyes darted around the place, scanning everything with an impassive look on her face. Andromeda plopped down beside Narcissa, rubbing her slender hands together with a hungry smirk. Scowling, Bellatrix stared at her cutlery.
Loads and loads of mouth-watering food laid on the mahogany table, appetising and tempting to no end. Roasted beef, mashed potatoes, stuffed turkey, leek and potato soup, shredded sprouts with bacon, pigs in blankets… Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Potter had outdone themselves, that was for certain. Everyone started complimenting the chefs, cracking jokes and laughing together.
A shockingly low murmur reached Hermione’s ears.
“Relax, Cissa...” Andromeda said, barely moving her lips, whilst placing a hand atop her sister’s. Bellatrix tried to do the same but ended up grimacing. “Mother isn’t here, you can eat to your heart’s content. Enjoy yourself, nobody here is gonna chastise you.”
Nobody else seemed to have noticed what had just transpired between the sisters, only Hermione. Her stomach churned unpleasantly, twisting up and dropping low.
“Oi, no magic on the table!” Sirius barked, catching Hermione’s attention before her thoughts could spiral out of control. Her jaw fell to the floor– Bellatrix was doing wordless magic!
Bellatrix huffed, rolling her eyes. “How am I supposed to get my food then, genius? I cannot move my bloody arms!” A piece of meat flew into her waiting mouth. Everyone fell silent, nervously awaiting her opinion. Bellatrix’s eyes widened. “Shit, this is good. Even better than Tibbet’s roasted meat… Cissy, Andy, you gotta try this out!”
Hermione’s eyes fell upon Narcissa, who looked rather hesitant. “Language, Bella…” the blonde witch said, sounding exasperated, but ate a piece of meat nonetheless. Her emotionless façade broke, shock and delight bleeding through the cracks.
“Holy– Bella is right!”
“You wound me, Andy.”
Everyone chuckled, watching the elder Black sisters back and forth. Eventually, Narcissa joined in, throwing snide comments at both parties on occasion. Bellatrix and Andromeda gasped dramatically, calling her a traitor. “All is fair in love and war, sisters,” Narcissa defended herself, offering them a triumphant smirk.
At one point, Lily cleared her throat. “So… Bellatrix, Harry’s told us that you play Quidditch.”
“I can imagine,” cackled Bellatrix. “I am the Slytherin team’s captain and Seeker. Your son’s worst nightmare in the field, I assure you.”
With a snort of amusement, Ginny threw her hands up in the air. “Not just Harry’s! Literally everyone hates playing against the Slytherin team,” the redhead complained, turning to face Lily. “Beaters cannot hit her, Chasers often lose the Quaffle to her, no Seeker can compete against her speed!”
Bellatrix threw her head back with a wide smile, levitating her calyx to her lips. Judging by the way her eyes shone with exhaustion, the continuous usage of wordless — and wandless, most likely, though Hermione couldn’t be quite sure, she hadn’t seen the distinguishable walnut wrought in Bellatrix’s hands before — magic was beginning to take a toll on her.
“Just be glad I didn’t become a Chaser,” drawled Bellatrix dryly, smirking at an uncharacteristically quiet Ron. He refused to meet her eye, to acknowledge the sisters’ presence.
Andromeda leaned forward, resting both elbows on the mahogany table– Narcissa had stopped caring about manners roughly half an hour ago. “Why didn’t you, Bella? You always said that you’d become Slytherin’s star Chaser.”
The eldest Black grinned wickedly whilst the Weasley twins snickered. “Well, that was the idea. However, I heard that Draco was going to apply for the Seeker position during second year,” answered Bellatrix. “I just couldn’t let that happen. Draco Malfoy is all bark and no bite, he’d have totally besmirched the Slytherin Quidditch team’s good name,” her onyx eyes met Sirius’ nostalgic ones. “Besides, I have it on good authority that we Blacks are outstanding Seekers.”
“Thank you, Bella…” Sirius said, blinking back tears. A couple of minutes later, the man excused himself and left Grimmauld Place for about an hour or so. Inevitably, Remus went after him.
Needless to say, a certain Harry James Potter started seeing Bellatrix under a new light after that. Ron glanced at her, uncertainty written all over his face. Things were… Improving, one could say. Hermione looked at her girlfriend with fondness blazing in her hazel eyes, giving her a heart-warming smile. Bellatrix levitated the calyx to her lips, hiding her noticeable blush behind it.
When the two Marauders returned, they found everyone laughing at whatever joke the Weasley twins had just cracked. The food was gone, replaced by various bottles of alcohol. Rum, brandy, gin, sherry, elvish wine, firewhiskey, butterbeer for the minors… The atmosphere was light and cheerful.
The perfect recipe for disaster.
Lily offered the youngest Black a warm smile. “What about you, Narcissa? Padfoot says you’re quite gifted at potions and herbology. Told us that old Slughorn has been trying to get you in his club for almost three years now.”
“Yes,” replied the blonde, giving Sirius a dirty look. Feeling her sisters’ eyes on her, heavy with anticipation and reassurance, Narcissa took a small sip of her butterbeer. Her cheeks were tinged pink. “I have a laboratory at home– nothing flashy, though. I want to be a healer.”
Everyone gawked at her, torn between bewilderment and disbelief. Her sisters shared conspiratorial chuckles and proud looks.
“Our parents don’t know about its existence,” Andromeda chimed in. “After Cissa’s first year at Hogwarts, Bella and I helped her refurbish one of the many guest rooms at Black Manor. We also wanted to build a greenhouse, but that’d have been a bit too obvious.”
Sirius took a large swing of his elvish wine, looking downright proud of his mischief-maker cousins. “And you, Drommie? Got any hidden studio at home? A penchant for… Magical languages, for instance? Arithmancy, maybe?”
Andromeda blanched. “I– er, no. That’s actually one of Bella’s hobbies. Magical languages, I mean. I didn’t take Arithmancy, too complicated. I’m just an average witch, I guess. I don’t really have any talents...”
“Nonsense!” Bellatrix and Narcissa exclaimed at the same time, taking Andromeda aback. They were furious, but not with her. Never with her. Their eyes were far too knowing, far too kind. “How could you possibly say that—?”
The dam cracked, years of bitterness seeping through the gaps.
“Because it’s the bloody truth!” Andromeda retorted angrily, encouraged by the not-so-little amount of firewhiskey she’d consumed. Staggering to her feet, Andromeda faced her sisters head-on. “I am not the Slytherin’s golden Seeker, a duelling genius, the one who can speak Parseltongue, Mermish, Troll and Gobbledegook, people do not think me one of the two Brightest Witches of Our Age!” Everyone stared at the middle Black in blatant, unsure of what to do. Sirius watched her with a blank expression. “I-I am not naturally gifted at Potions and Herbology, I cannot read people like a book, I do not have my own laboratory because I am not good enough! ”
Emotionally drained, Andromeda plopped herself down again. A wet gasp rolled off her lips when Narcissa placed a hand over hers. Ice-blue eyes shimmered with a scorching intensity that left Andromeda breathless.
“I-I keep getting us in trouble,” the middle sister continued, ignoring all of the silent spectators. They faded away, forgotten. “I keep fucking things up time a-and time again. This is all my fault!” Andromeda sobbed, pointing at Bellatrix’s stiff arms. “I-I… I’m a burden.”
“Is that what you think, Andy?” Bellatrix questioned, slowly rising from her seat. Narcissa shot her a worried look. “Or is it what they want you to believe?” A pause, a step forward, a weary sigh. “Listen, Andy… You’ve got your own talents. The three of us are different, unique. You are amazing at Transfiguration, Charms and Astronomy. I saw you casting some N.E.W.T level charms the other day, Andy– some of my classmates can’t even perform a Wingardium Leviosa properly to this very day!” Hermione snorted, but none of them heard her. The Black sisters were far too engrossed in their conversation. “You’ve got a way with words that neither of us has. You’re a rightful pain in the ass—” Bellatrix artfully ignored the nasty look Andromeda gave her, offering her a playful smile instead. “I’ll fight anyone who says otherwise.”
Tears welled up in Andromeda’s eyes.
“Let’s continue this conversation upstairs,” Narcissa suddenly said, becoming aware of their companions once again. Her face showed little to no emotion. Right… Narcissa Black wasn’t called ‘Basilisk’ at Hogwarts for no good reason, Hermione mused with a grimace.
Thus, the Black sisters thanked Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Potter for the delicious dinner, bid everyone — including one Ronald Weasley, who didn’t know what to think of the three Slytherin witches anymore — adieu and left the dining room.
Nobody went after them.
Hours later, Hermione found herself sauntering over Grimmauld Place’s little backyard. The place was lovely, though a bit unkempt. Definitely not one of Sirius’ main concerns. With the proper amount of care and dedication, one could easily grow almost anything in there. A sudden thought rushed through her head, making her smile in spite of herself.
“Maybe Narcissa could put the garden to good use, turn it into a small greenhouse of sorts...”
Tentatively, Hermione sat down on a snowed-up bench and casted a warming charm on herself.
Christmas night had given way to December 26th about an hour or so, but the Gryffindor witch felt as though Christmas day had just begun. “Probably because Molly and Lily left me in charge of the sisters’ gifts,” Hermione mused dryly.
A weary sigh echoed through the backyard.
“Sweet Morgana, what a day…” Bellatrix drawled, entering the little garden somewhat sluggishly. “I’ve had enough drama and emotions for an entire lifetime, thank you very much.”
“I can imagine,” replied Hermione. “Can’t sleep?”
Unable to shrug her shoulders just yet, Bellatrix made a face whilst rolling her eyes. “Bite me, Granger– I just wanted to spend some alone time with my girlfriend on Christmas night,” came the surprisingly honest reply. Carefully sitting down next to Hermione, the raven-haired witch raised an eyebrow. “What about you? I thought you’d be going back home with the Weasley-Potter army after dinner.”
“That was the idea,” Hermione replied, quoting Bellatrix with a playful smile. “However, Molly and Lily left me in charge of your sisters’ gifts.”
Hermione could almost hear Bellatrix’s frown.
“Gifts?”
“Er– yes. Christmas gifts?”
“Huh,” breathed Bellatrix, brows furrowed in thought. “We’ve never had anything like that– thanks, I guess?”
Finding her girlfriend’s confusion absolutely adorable, Hermione chuckled and moved closer. With utmost care, the brunette kissed her cheek. The skin beneath her lips grew hot. “You have some too,” she whispered into her ear. “Want to open them?”
Onyx eyes shimmered with anticipation. “Sure, but I can’t—”
Hermione pressed her lips against Bellatrix’s, cutting her complaint short, and swiftly placed a couple of packages on her lap.
“—you cheater,” Bellatrix mumbled, nibbling at Hermione’s lower lip. “And people say I play dirty.”
“You do,” came Hermione’s breathless reply. After a couple more kisses, Hermione separated from her girlfriend and pointed at the presents. “Take your time.”
As though challenged, Bellatrix raised an eyebrow.
Slowly but surely, Bellatrix started unwrapping the packages. “Is this– an ugly Christmas jumper? I thought they were a myth,” the witch hummed, running her hands along the Slytherin green jumper. It had a black ‘B’ embroidered in the middle.
“Mrs. Weasley knitted them this afternoon,” Hermione supplied helpfully, watching Bellatrix become teary-eyed. “Your sisters have one as well.”
“I cannot imagine Cissy wearing this,” said Bellatrix, looking at the jumper with undeniable affection. “I love it… And don’t worry– they’re gonna love theirs, even Cissy.” A pause, a shaky laugh. “Especially Cissy.”
Hermione gulped, watching Bellatrix bask in the jumper’s softness. “Bella– I’m so sorry, but I need to know…”
“Of course you do,” replied Bellatrix, rolling her eyes playfully. “You should have been a Ravenclaw, you little know-it-all.” Moving onto the next package, Bellatrix started scratching the wrapping-paper somewhat distractedly. “First things first, our mail gets intercepted on Christmas day. That’s why I told you not to send me any letters today– yesterday? Anyway, I guess Andy forgot to warn Tonks about that.”
The brunette’s stomach dropped.
“Our parents read the letter,” Bellatrix continued in an eerily quiet voice. “Confronted Andy during breakfast. They went on and on about status, our place in society, how mudbloods are filth beneath our shoes, despicable thieves– y’know, the usual… Aha!” With a victory cry, Bellatrix peeled the package open. Her onyx eyes widened in shock. “Bestiarium Magicum. F-First edition! Thank you, but how did you get it?”
Hermione shrugged and played with the hem of her scarf, blushing brightly. “I had help… Madam Pince contacted various librarians around the world, Hagrid asked some of his Magizoolist friends—” her ramble was promptly stopped by Bellatrix’s smiling lips. With a pout, Hermione pulled back and glanced at her. “Bella, be careful. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
Amused, Bellatrix blew her a raspberry. “I’ll have you know that Cissy gave me some potions for the pain, you worrywart. I can move my arms a bit, don’t worry. You need way more than a splinching to bring me down,” she said with a wry smile. “Again, thank you so much. I’ve been looking for this bloody book for ages…”
The Gryffindor’s cheeks grew warmer, brighter.
Grabbing the last package, Bellatrix hummed. “In any case. Andromeda and Narcissa were scared shitless, our parents were beyond livid. An honourable daughter of Black… Dating a filthy mudblood? Gasp!” Hermione’s mouth curved into a wry smile. Bellatrix winked at her. “Totally hasn’t happened before, hmm? Anyway, I– you heard Andromeda, they’ve been putting ideas in her head for bloody years. Cissy’s got her own demons too, but we’re currently working on those,” her powerful voice softened, turned melancholic. “I– er... Our parents started comparing us, listing all of Andy’s so-called flaws, insulting her, threatening to disown her, calling her a disappointment, belittling her further and further… They were going to use the Cruciatus curse on her, Hermione. I just couldn’t stand there and do nothing, you know? I stepped in and started defending her, just like I always do. Said that if they had a problem with Andy dating a muggle-born then— oh…”
Bellatrix had opened the small box during her speech, far too focused on her narrative to notice the object that lay within the cushioned interior. Until her eyes fell on it mid-sentence. Gulping, the raven-haired witch lifted it with trembling hands.
A silvery crow skull, held up by a beautiful black leather cord, dangled from Bellatrix’s pale fingers.
“Then they had a problem with me,” continued Bellatrix in a small voice, looking at the necklace with unadulterated adoration. “Because I am dating a muggle-born as well– the best one, mind you.”
“Do you like it?” Hermione asked just as softly, heart fluttering at the compliment. “I found it in– er, Borgin and Burkes…”
Bellatrix glanced at her, shocked. “Wait a moment. You ventured into Knockturn Alley to get me a Christmas gift?” A nod. “Hermione Jean Granger, you reckless fool! Guess you really are a Gryffindor, huh?” With a playful roll of her eyes, Bellatrix leaned forward and kissed her again.
“I’m sorry,” Hermione whispered against rosy lips. “I wanted to get you something special, something you could carry anywhere, something that would remind you of me…”
Pearl white sank into Hermione’s lower lip, pulling back softly and letting go with an audible ‘pop’ . Bellatrix repeated the action again before speaking up. “That’s so cheesy, Granger.”
Hermione giggled, chasing after Bellatrix’s plump lips again. Her hands ended on Bellatrix’s shoulders, trying to pull her a tad closer, which made the raven-haired hiss and recoil in pain. “God, sorry! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to! I-I forgot about—”
“Calm down, you worrywart,” said Bellatrix, shaking her head. “This is not your fault. Blame my– blame Cygnus and Druella. They were going to use the Cruciatus curse on Andromeda, so I stepped in. Told them about us. Took the punishment for her,” Bellatrix narrated grimly. “They didn’t notice Narcissa and Andromeda sneaking out of the dining room for a bit. When they came back, I saw Narcissa carrying her potions bag whilst Andy carried– I dunno, our school things, I guess? Anyway… My sisters distracted Cygnus and Druella long enough for me to grab my wand and blow the dining room up. Literally. I’ve been wanting to do that for my entire life, and would definitely do it again. After that, the three of us made a run for it. Black Manor has many wards, including Apparition ones, so we had to leave the estate before I could apparate the fuck away.”
With a snort of amusement, Bellatrix nodded at her right shoulder. “I was focused on my sisters, making sure that they were holding onto my arms, so I got splinched. I heard that Cissy screamed at Andy when we got here, but I cannot remember any of that. Sucks.”
“That’s– Bella, that’s horrible!”
Bellatrix hummed, staring at the night sky, where a sea of stars peeked out beneath the dark clouds. Hermione’s brow furrowed in thought. Was that Orion? “Life is unfair like that. I believe Siri is gonna press charges, so all’s not that bad.” After a pause, Bellatrix looked at her again. “Put it on me, will you?”
“I-I don’t want to hurt you. Again.”
Rolling her eyes, Bellatrix cracked a wry smile. “C’mon, I’m hardly fragile. Just make sure you don’t get carried away—” as though challenged, Hermione stood up and clasped the necklace around Bellatrix’s neck with utmost care. “—and voilá.”
“Cheater…” Hermione said with a huff, capturing Bellatrix’s lips again. “And you say I play dirty.”
Bellatrix chuckled into the kiss. “I just happen to be… Very persuasive,” that earned her a playful bite. “Merry Christmas, Hermione.”
Christmas night had given way to December 26th about two hours or so, but the Gryffindor witch felt as though Christmas day had just begun. Maybe because of the witch besides her, who was kissing her as though her life depended on it, but Hermione couldn’t be quite sure.
“Merry Christmas, Bellatrix.”