Bellamione - her beloved monster

21. World's Biggest Pain In The Ass

"How long are you going to keep it from her?"
"I was thinking until she's six feet under." She laughed and ran her hand through her luxuriant hair.
This the fake Selwyn knew all too well from her older sister.
"How long has this been going on with you and Ted?"
"Just over half a year, I've had transfiguration class with him and -"
"I can guess." Hermione grinned and tilted her head.
"I'm just scared, my family is horrible with blood traitors, they disown them." The brown-haired witch breathed a heavy sigh, "I don't want to lose my sisters, but I never thought that - that I would fall in love with a mudblood, after all that mother and father told me about them."

"You can't put people in a box. Some Muggle-borns are more valuable than ten purebloods put together." Hermione looked at the black lake, the afternoon sun falling on the dark surface and beginning to sparkle in the twilight.
The two students had taken a seat under a sturdy oak tree and were leaning against the old wood.
"Thank you." Andromeda brushed a tear from her cheek, "You know Bella doesn't deserve you?"
"It would be useful if you tell her that sometimes." Hermione couldn't help but laugh.

It was dark night, Hermione lay under her covers whimpering with cold, thinking about the last few weeks.

Bellatrix. Narcissa. Bellatrix. Lucius. Andromeda and Ted. Bellatrix. The Dark Lord. Bellatrix.

Sparse light filtered through the inky blackness into the room of the Slytherin dormitory.
Hermione heard the whisper of the lake.
The crackling fire.
And the creaking of floorboards.
Floorboards?
She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, pressed her legs close to her body.
Someone pushed open the cupboard door and dragged something out.
A short time later, someone left the room and closed the gate to the Slytherin common room.
Not just anyone.
The bed next to the brown-haired witch was empty, the poison-green bedspread lying loveless and cold on the abandoned mattress.
No matter what Bellatrix was doing, it worried Hermione.
Big worries.

The next morning, her friend with the raven curls shoveled oatmeal into her mouth with relish, as if nothing had happened, and read the Daily Prophet.
"What's up?" Hermione bit her lips and pointed at the newspaper.
"Nothing special happening." Bella pulled the piece of paper away and crumpled it up.

Somehow, everyone at this table had their secrets.
Corban was afraid of becoming a Death Eater, but couldn't confess it to his proud parents.
Rodolphus still looked at the two friends puzzled since the incident at the Slugclub party.
Andy loved a boy who sealed her end in the Black family.
Bellatrix had recently been disappearing at night to an unknown place and only returning in the morning.
With Lucius' hair, she still didn't know if he was a natural blond.
But Hermione couldn't complain, with the skeletons she had in her closet.

Soon the Slug Club party was to be held and Corban was already raving about the delicious Christmas punch that was supposedly served annually.
Suddenly Rita came rushing over and pulled out an emerald green quill.
"You won't believe what happened!" She screeched sensationally, licking her lips.

"What, you won the contest for the world's biggest pain in the ass?" Cissy interjected coolly and Bellatrix high-fived her little sister.
"Ha ha ha, how funny. No, this." She pulled out another copy of the Daily Prophet and pointed to a steadily rotating image.
Black shadows, a mark, but not just any mark, one that made Hermione's blood run cold.
A skull with a snake coiled out of its mouth.

In big bold letters it said:
Attack on Muggle Quarter. Secret grouping shows itself.

She breathed heavily and sought Bellatrix's gaze, but she avoided their two pairs of eyes meeting.
"It's impossible, isn't it? No one died, but a bunch of people is in hospital and no guilty person has been caught."
Corban glanced at me, I at Lucius, who stared after Bella, who disappeared from the Great Hall, pretending to be sick.
Endless boring lessons passed, during which Bellatrix avoided talking to her friend.

Hermione had no desire to learn.
She wanted to confront the witch with the raven-black curls, to know what was occupying her stubborn mind.
After class, the fake Selwyn squatted on the floor of her dormitory with Narcissa and played a game of Goblin Stone.
"You're really good." Hermione ran her tongue over her lip.
"I'm practiced, with two older sisters, you learn." Spoke the youngest Black sister, flicking a token.

Right next to the two of them, Bellatrix was reading her school book at a desk.
"Bella, are you feeling better?" Hermione tilted her head.
"What?" Bellatrix snapped her eyes open and looked from left to right.
"You weren't feeling well this morning, were you?"
"Oh yes, yes, I'm better."
After seemingly endless rounds, which Cissy won hands down, Hermione turned in front of the vanity mirror and looked at herself wearing a short, burgundy dress.
This had been given to her by Bella earlier, under the pretext that she no longer wore it anyway.
The young witch pinned up her auburn mane and packed the invitation for the slug club.
The two friends were going to meet there.

When she arrived at Slughorn's office, the Lestrange brothers already run into her and crossed the room with her.
Many students were arriving, several house-elves were escorting guests as well as carrying trays of steaming food to the already set-table.
It was nine o'clock when the potions teacher turned to his charges and banged a teaspoon against one of the crystal glasses.
But the chair next to Hermione remained empty.

Half-past nine.
Ten.

Numerous tales of successful parenting and sucking up later, the brown-haired witch tugged nervously at the material of her dress.
"Ms. Selwyn, do you think Ms. Black will grace us with her presence yet?"
"Yes, yes, she wasn't quite well this morning, perhaps she needs a little more time."
He nodded.

Cutlery clinked as it fell onto the empty china plates.
Just as two house-elves were loading in an immensely large platter of vanilla ice cream, there was a knock at the door.

The door almost burst off its hinges and a figure stomped through the doorway.
She gasped and looked as out of place in this perfect picture as it could have been.
A young woman was dressed in an emerald green evening gown that hung tattered at the ends.
It had a plunging neckline, a necklace sparkled at the young woman's bare skin.
The hairspray that was supposed to fix her wild hair, had already gone and so her dark curls fell elegantly over her shoulder.
Dirt stuck to her face, where her make-up was already smudged and her eyeliner smeared.

Something red stuck to the hem of her dress.

One could have thought many things, but her hands, soaked in blood, spoke more than a thousand words.
She gasped.
All eyes fell on the young witch, who could almost have come from a horror film.
Even in all the chaos, Hermione had only one thing on her mind.
Bellatrix Black was still the most beautiful person far and wide, even with all the blood.
Or maybe exactly because of it