Chapter 1

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Authors note: AU. Hermione still has the time turner after the battle at Hogwarts.

"Not my daughter, you bitch!" Molly's voice cuts through the air, Hermione's head snapping to her left in time to witness the Weasley matriarch stepping up to Bellatrix. Her heart leaps in her chest as she watches with horror evident in her eyes. People around her stop fighting for a second to watch the duel. Hermione's mind is racing in a million different directions. Although she wants Molly to win, there is a nagging feeling deep in her stomach which contradicts just that.

Both witches are skilled, no doubt about that, but Molly seems so completely infuriated that Hermione instantly worries about Bellatrix. The raven haired witch laughs, underestimating the redhead solely. Hermione wants to warn her, tell her to watch out. But it's too late. The Dark Lord's most loyal servant is caught off guard. Her body shrinks and time seems to slow down. Her eyes catch Hermione's for a short second before another spell hits her, and she's dissolved into tiny bits of ash. The pieces fall through the air, collecting in a small pile at the floor. Hermione's heart skips a beat. The feeling of lightheadedness spreads and she has to support herself on a broken chair to not lose balance. Noise around her turns muffled, time seems to stop. In the distance, the sounds of Narcissa's shrieks pierce the air. In the corner of her eye, she sees the blonde falling to the floor in despair. Bellatrix's eyes had mirrored Narcissa's. They had shown despair. And regret. Regret for what they never finished together.

The streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement as I run through the dusk. A need to get away, if just for one night, is controlling my body. Forcing it through the street. The wind and rain whips hard on my face, making it difficult to see. I ignore the pain in my limbs; right now, I don't give a damn about anything.

From the corner of my eye, I spot a dark clad figure moving rapidly towards me, but before I can even consider to change direction, the figure crashes into me. Black robes tangle in my feet and both of us tumble to the ground in one giant mess. Curly black hair whips into my face; I realize it's a she.

"Ow! Watch where you're going, idiot!" Her sharp voice snaps through the air. Letting out a moan of pain, I scramble to my feet, apologizing so much for my behaviour. It is only when the figure is standing one foot away from me, hood pulled back, face lit by the nearest streetlight, that I realize who it is: Bellatrix Black Lestrange. My breath hitches, fear spreading through the pit of my stomach. My legs suddenly turn to jelly, and I need to concentrate to not lose balance. She seems to have gathered her senses too, because I can hear her smacking her tongue disapprovingly at me.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here? The mudblood Granger now, isn't it?" She puckers her dark lips while lifting my face to look at it in the dim light. Her cold fingers tilt my head upwards forcefully. Her breath reeks of alcohol, yet something sweet at the same time. I shiver under her touch, remembering what happened not even months ago at Malfoy Manor. The scar on my arm burns, and I wince slightly. Memories of the torture session springs back to life in my mind. Something about it seemed off: the way my cheeks burned when she was so close to me, and the way she made my stomach tingle when she straddled me.

She seems to have read my thoughts, because a flare of interest flashes across her face.

"Thinking about that, are we? You need to shield your mind better, mudblood." She laughs.

"You have no right to penetrate my mind like that!" I protest, my face flushing red.

"Oh, but I do. Especially when little miss Mudblood is having such erotic thoughts about me." She puts a little more pressure on the word 'erotic' than the rest of them. Her lips curl up in a smug smile as she steps closer towards me, making me take a few steps back till I crash in the nearest streetlight. "Do you like me? Do you think of me like the little school girl you are? Do you have wet dreams about me? Do you want me?" She steps closer with each question, her curls bouncing playfully on her shoulders. I bite my lip nervously. The truth is, everything she has mentioned is true. And I do want her.

She's mere inches away now, I can feel her hot breath on my skin.

"Itty bitty Granger. So close, yet so far. I'm right here." I suddenly understand what she means. She knows that even though she's only inches away from me, I don't have the guts to reach out and kiss her or whatever I want to do with her. Because a part of me is still afraid of her. Disappointment flashes in her eyes for a second. "Too bad. You would have tasted filthy." Snickering she turns away, and slowly starts walking away from me. My heart plummets to my stomach, and I want to push my head into a wall. Why didn't I do it when I had the chance? Maybe it isn't too late yet... Without further thought, I sprint towards her, grab her wrist, turn her around and press my lips quickly against hers. To my great surprise, she returns the kiss. I push her against the wall, and kiss her so passionately, suddenly wanting to leave her here, breathless and longing for more. Pinning her hands over her head, I bite her lip, drawing blood. Small moans escape her throat, and I smile internally. If I can make the most feared death eater moan, then I surely can confront Harry and Ron for treating me like shit. I catch her moans with my lips, pressing them against her jawline and cheekbones. She tilts her head upwards, but I pull away. Her confused eyes pop open, staring at me questioningly.

"Let's save the rest for another time, shall we?" I grin, feeling the power of my position coursing through my veins. Her body feels hot against mine, I like it. I will want to return for more, but for now, I have to show her who's in charge. So I imagine the Burrow in my head, and with a 'pop', I'm gone, remembering Bellatrix's soft dark lips on mine.

Bellatrix is left panting, breathless, cursing the girl. Her body reacted in a frightening way to her. A roar escapes her throat, she doesn't like to be ignored or left here alone, by a mudblood, no less. She then disappears with a small 'pop', intending on doing something with the arousal herself.

Hermione is pulled out of her memories by a spell sent her way. She's quick in her reactions, however, casting a protego and firing spells so rapidly the enemy doesn't stand a chance against her. Beating him unconscious in a matter of a few seconds, Hermione storms through the fighting crowd, making her way to the exit, a plan taking form in her head. The plan requires quick thinking and a brave heart. The skilled witch doesn't look back once.

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