Chapter Text
Andromeda Tonks could admit, if only to herself and never to her sister, that she enjoyed brunch with her these last few years after their reconciliation. Telling Narcissa that, however, would mean having to deal with never hearing the end of just how soft hearted she was, and she would rather not, thank you very much. Which of course was why when Narcissa, normally ever punctual, showed up five minutes later Andy confronted her with a raised eyebrow and an air of judgement. Her sister turned up her nose and sniffed haughtily and came in without a word about her lateness. That meant that it was a rather juicy piece of information, but the question was how to badger it out of her sister. She would just have to be patient and see what the best route would be. Patience was a virtue and all that. She’d tried to pound that into Dora’s head more than once, though outside of her life as an auror, she didn’t really know if that had ever really gotten across. She shook her head fondly at the memory of her daughter, feeling that ever familiar pang of pain, and turned to follow Narcissa into the kitchen.
“I made crepes,” she said, pulling out dishes and floating them to the dinner table. Narcissa would never stand for eating at the kitchen table like a normal human being on a Sunday. No, no, she had “standards.” Which every time she said so Andy had to refrain from rolling her eyes so hard she was launched into outer space.
“Raspberry or strawberry filled?” The blonde eyed the confections wearily, like a rouge strawberry might just jump out and ambush her.
“Raspberry for you. I don’t want to hear about just how much you hate their little seeds getting caught in your teeth.”
“And I don’t need to hear your lecture about how raspberries also have seeds,” Narcissa said, heading off exactly where she had been going next. It was a long standing argument, the only one who’d ever been able to get it quiet down had been Bellatrix, and now, well, Andy was free to cause just as much bickering mischief about strawberry seeds as she pleased.
“That’s because I’m right and you most assuredly know it.”
“Tell me, why do I submit myself to your breathtaking wit on a weekly basis?” Narcissa snarked, flouncing over to the dining table now that Andy had set it fully.
There was a thundering down the stairs as Teddy, finally woken by the smell of food, graced them with her presence. Even though she saw him every day it was hard to believe that in a few weeks he’d be eleven, and come fall he’d be at Hogwarts. Maybe he would find the places Dora had liked to go. She’d told him what she could remember from Dora’s letters, knew that Harry had told him the stories he knew about Remus. She hoped that he found the comfort he needed in those places like her soulmate’s friend had.
Her eyes flicked over to the bookcase, just visible in the living room through the doorway where all her letters were stashed. She had plans to reply to her latest message whenever Narcissa decided to make her suitably dramatic exit for the week. She let out a rush of breath as Teddy plowed into her much like an energetic freight train.
“Crepes? You’re the best gran!” He exclaimed, looking up at her with a smile. Then, with slightly more acceptable manners, turned to Narcissa. “Hi Auntie Cissa, how are you today?” He plopped down beside her in only the manner that a ten year old could, loose limbed and carefree, with all the happiness in the world over something so simple as their favorite breakfast.
“It has been a rather interesting week, Tedward,” she said, an indulgent smile on her face for her great nephew.
He groaned over her nickname for him, but played along. “Please, my grandpa was Tedward, call me Teddy.”
“Well then, Teddy it shall be.” She ruffled his hair with gentle fingers, which he rolled his eyes at, but since he hadn’t actually brushed his hair before coming downstairs, he couldn’t really say anything about. “How has your week been? Any exciting tales from the trials and tribulations of year six?”
Much like his mother before him Andy had sent Teddy to public school for his early education, seeing as she couldn’t take care of his education and work to provide for their family at the same time. Though he didn’t go to just any public school, it had more than its fair share of magically inclined teachers on staff that kept wild magic incidents to a minimum and slipped in the odd magical society lesson in when they could. Teddy had had a bit of trouble starting out. How in the world did you explain to a metamorphmagus that they couldn’t change their appearance for several hours a day, even when it would be rather funny, or they were feeling jealous over someone’s hair color, or any other of a thousand reasons, but he had gotten the gist of it in the end. Now all of his tales were based solely in the fact that he was ten year old in school and the world ending drama that that entailed.
“Well Alice said she liked Danny, like, like liked him, and Peter found out about it and then told half the year so now it’s weird trying to be friends with everyone. I’m hoping tomorrow everyone will’ve forgotten and then we can all just play tag like normal at break.”
“Ah, always a dramatic subject, matters of the heart. I’m afraid it doesn’t get much better from here on out. Adults are just as useless, I’m afraid.” A shadow of something passed over her face and Andy wondered just what in the world that was about. It wasn’t...it hadn’t been all doom and gloom as she would expect if her sister had been thinking about Lucius, but it still hadn’t been the joyous light one expected from a new relationship. Mostly what it looked like was a half a second facial expression that read ‘it’s complicated’ and yet she still didn’t get the impression that Narcissa thought that that was bad thing necessarily. Salazar, if only they weren’t Slytherins then perhaps such things would be easier to determine. Merlin forbid they actually talk about their feelings.
“I thought so,” Teddy sighed, using the cover of his weariness to scoop three crepes onto his plate. He would most likely regret that soon enough, eyes being bigger than his stomach, but Andy was content to let him learn the hard way on that account. “All those books gran reads are all about romance and they always seem super over dramatic.” He stuck his tongue out. “I don’t get it.”
“Give it three or four years and it might just become clear to you.”
“It’s also fine if it never quite makes sense,” Andy chimed in. She wanted Teddy to feel accepted no matter what way the wind blew for him in the future.
“Well, if I have to like like a girl can she at least be an astronaut or something cool?” His eyes lit up as he shoved a rather ridiculously sized bite into his mouth, getting raspberry syrup on his nose.
Andy just snorted and nodded. “I suppose she could be, granted I’m not sure a witch has gone to space as of yet, but someone has to be the first.”
“Nonsense, Surya Dhawan went to the moon in 1895. It’s much easier to get there with the help of magic, after all, no need for those silly muggle rockets.” Narcissa waved off the notion like it was completely ridiculous.
“But the rockets are so cool!” Teddy protested.
“I admit they do have a particular je ne sais quoi, but they are very dangerous are they not? Haven’t some rockets exploded and taken astronauts with them?”
Now that Andy didn’t know. And if Andy didn’t know it even after living with Ted for all those years, then Narcissa had to have gone out and looked up information. Teddy had been on this astronaut kick for a few months now, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. And honestly...it did sound just like Narcissa. Ugh, her sister just had to go and be lovable sometimes.
Teddy nodded. “Challenger and Columbia, but they fixed those things!”
Narcissa started to slice into her own food, cutting it up into bites with a carefully controlled carefree manner. “Ah but fixes aren’t necessarily foolproof. With magic you could explore space with none of the danger, if without quite the unique ascetic.”
“If you do it with magic do you get to wear a space suit?”
“I don’t see why you couldn’t. Perhaps that might be even better in the long run if you could figure out how to fit some sort of set up in there that would renew the air in your bubblehead charm.” She looked deep in thought for a few moments.
Andy for her part was content to sit back and watch this exchange take place. No matter what else the media said about her sister, she was good with children, especially if they were family members. She had taken one look at five year old Teddy after Andy had finally allowed them to meet, and she had seen the moment her sister had fallen in love with the boy. Now she spent a decent chunk of time trying to get Narcissa not to spoil him rotten. No, a ten year old did not need the latest top of the line broom, thank you. He could use Dora’s old one that she’d spelled halfway to France with safety precautions and went a much more reasonable speed. Draco and Harry, however, had taken the brooms, but she was sure the children hadn’t seen them so much as they used them for their own personal fun, racing around the Weasley’s field like they were children again. And if Narcissa getting along with Teddy made her softer than a puddle of goo internally, well, no one would know it.
“I wonder if there was a way I could morph so that I could survive in space without a bubblehead charm…” Teddy trailed off, thinking.
Now that Andy would have insight on. “Well, you’d have to figure out a way to keep pressure inside your body since your blood would boil without it and that would kill you within minutes and it wouldn’t be a very pleasant way to go. And you’d have to figure out a way to keep your body warm as well, though perhaps those two problems are more interconnected than not.” She shrugged one shoulder smoothly. She did know body systems being a healer, but how a metamorphmagus was able to manipulate their cells hadn’t been fully magically explained yet. Perhaps whatever he did to solve one problem would actually solve the other. She just hoped there was nowhere that he could actually test any of his theories. That was entirely the last thing she needed.
“Hmm,” Teddy hummed, falling quiet, thinking about the problem, and probably trying out different solutions, though Andy couldn’t actually see anything visibly shifting. It did keep him occupied long enough that Narcissa turned back to her.
“So, sister dearest, anything new with you?” She arched a pale brow in question.
Andy’s mind immediately flashed to the letter she was going to reply to after brunch. She wasn’t nearly ready to talk about that, though. Narcissa was sure to give her some sort of second degree about it. And if she blushed for even a second there would be that smug sisterly smirk that just made her want to throttle something.
“Not really,” she said instead, keeping her face mostly blank, too blank and Narcissa would know something was amiss, so a balance was necessary. “Mediwitches being overly dramatic, male colleagues who think they know it all, perhaps a certain someone who procrastinates his homework, the usual.” She arched her own eyebrow back at her sister. “The real question is if anything is different with you, after all you were late for the first time perhaps in your entire life.”
“Can’t a woman lose track of time without having the fifth degree?” Narcissa sniffed.
“Perhaps if I wasn’t your sister, but I am, and I’m older, so I’m legally entitled to know just what my baby sister is up to at all moments.”
Narcissa rolled her eyes and primly put a piece of crepe in her mouth to prolong the time where she wouldn’t have to answer. Andy was far too familiar with that stall tactic, it was one of the few their parents hadn’t caught on to during their childhood. Bellatrix had certainly used it to great effect. But Andy was patient enough she was going to get her answer even if Narcissa tried to put herself time to think of an obfuscated answer.
“I was finishing up a letter to a new acquaintance. Of course I took my time over it to make sure it was perfect. It wasn’t as if I was writing you.”
“You wound me,” Andy deadpanned.
“Oh please.”
“Fine, who is this new person, they must be someone important if you actually spent so much time on a letter that you were late.”
“And if they are, what of it?” Narcissa’s gaze darted away from her for half a second, but that’s all Andy needed.
She sat back, putting her fork down on her plate and actually looking at her sister. Narcissa looked back defiantly, but she’d already broken just enough for Andy to see through. She doubted anyone but family would have seen the break for what it was, Narcissa was too well trained for anything else, but she wasn’t polite society.
“So they are important.”
Narcissa over the years had mastered her impulse to blush. She had to have done it sometime after Andy had fled the manor to live with Ted. She remembered Narcissa blush all the way up to the roots of her hair when embarrassed. Bellatrix had enjoyed teasing her until she was red in the face. Of course she had punched anyone else who dared try it, but thus was the duality of sisters. Now though, there was only the ever so slightest shifting of the color of her cheeks. Well then.
“Oh they’re very important.” She leaned forward, sensing blood in the water. “Did you meet someone new romantically?”
Teddy, bless him, caught on to the track of the conversation. “Do you like like them?”
Narcissa turned to him as if he was a life raft in a storm. “It’s only been a few days, darling, hardly anything to base an opinion off of as of yet.”
“Well, if you do, they better be nice to you. You deserve someone nice to you, Auntie Cissa.”
Andy had to admit that even that had her a bit choked up. Narcissa herself looked like she was trying to swallow back a metric ton of different emotions. Years on and it still amazed her sometimes when other cared for it. If Andy ever got her hands on that slimy snake Lucius, Azkaban would be the least of his problems. Her sister had always said he was a fine husband until he’d endangered Draco, but she had her doubts in moments like this. Yes her shunning from society after the war could have something to do with her behavior, and it most likely did play some part, but she doubted it was all of it.
“Thank you, dear heart.” She turned back from him to Andy. “The fact of the matter is, Andromeda, they’re just a friend for now, but I assume you can figure out just how rare a new friend would be for me?”
Barring Anathema, Narcissa hadn’t really had any friends after the war. They’d all purged her from their metaphorical rolodexes to save their own reputations. Even now ten years on people still kept a wide berth, though not quite so much as they had before.
“Yes, Narcissa, I understand.” She rolled her eyes. “But don’t think I didn’t catch that hint of a blush earlier. We’ll see in a few months just how right I am.”
Narcissa huffed. “Do you always have to be right?”
“Of course I do, I’m older.”
“And do you have to bring that up! We’re in our fifties for Salazar’s sake.”
Andy picked up her fork and set to eating again. “You’ll be hearing that until the day you die, Cissa dearest. Get used to it.”
“You’re still not the oldest,” she snarked.
Andy made a show of looking around. “Do you see Bellatrix anywhere around here, hmm?” Not that Bellatrix would ever be allowed in her home, but still. She could just stand to be in the room with her now. Though the revelation that she had to share a soulmate with her sister still stung entirely too much. If that had happened a few years down the line she might have taken it better, but here they were.
“No.” Narcissa sighed dramatically.
“Then I’m the oldest here and that’s what matters.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“And yet you’re here eating breakfast with me anyway. You can’t say you aren’t a glutton for punishment.”
“I’m here entirely for Teddy, I just put up with you.”
Teddy beamed at that. “I know, I’m awesome right Auntie Cissa?”
Her sister smiled at him, warm and loving. “Of course you are.”
“I suppose if that’s the only reason you visit, it is understandable,” Andy said, playing along.
Teddy shoved the last of his crepes into his mouth and chewed quickly. “Does that mean I can go outside and ride my broom because I’m so cool?”
Andy snorted. She had a feeling that was going to come up at some point or another. “Fine, fine, of course you can, just remember--”
Teddy cut her off “Don’t fly above the concealment spells, no trying to make the broom go faster than it wants to, and no practicing Wronsky feints, I know, I know.” He bit his lip. “Can I invite Cecilia over for some one on one quidditch?”
“Owl her, if her parents say yes I don’t see why not, but remember it’s a school night.” She squinted at him. “Your homework is done, yes?”
He shot up out of the chair and started towards the door. “Of course gran, got it done Friday night! You know I don’t like homework hanging over my head”
She gave him that patented look that all mothers and grandmothers had that said she didn’t believe a word he was saying. “Fine, but if your teacher sends a note home about unfinished homework you know the deal.”
“Yes, no broom for a week and extra chores, ok thank gran bye! Bye Auntie Cissa, you should come see me fly before you leave!” And with that he was thundering back up the stairs to owl his friend and grab his gear.
“A whirlwind, that boy,” Andy said with a fond shake of her head. She set about finishing her own breakfast steadily. It was more lukewarm now than hot since she’d gotten to talking. Nothing a bit of wandwork wouldn’t fix, but honestly she couldn’t be that bothered.
“And yet you miss them so much when they’re out of the house.” Narcissa sighed. “James and Evan certainly do their best to remind me of those times, though.”
“How are the boys doing? Harry hasn’t been over in two weeks for them all to get up to mischief. He’s had some big operation going on he’s spent far too much time on. He works too hard that boy.”
“James and Evan are just fine, chaos as always in a six and four year old form. I haven’t seen Harry either, though. Draco says they’ll wrap up this week, though, so I would suppose he’ll be over to spend some time with Teddy then.”
“Good, good.” She laughed softly. “Goodness knows I could certainly go for whatever baked good Draco will bring over when they visit.”
“He’s gotten far too good at baking for my waistline, I swear.”
Andy looked at her sister, still thin as ever and just raised an eyebrow. “Uh huh.”
“What, this is only because I have iron self control!”
She continued to just look at Narcissa. She’d inherited their mother’s build, rail thin and tall. Both herself and Bellatrix had taken more after the Black side of the family, shorter and curiver, though Andy hadn’t quite taken it as far as Bellatrix had. She internally would always be pleased that she was taller than her older sister. Even when she was talking down at her, she couldn’t actually talk down at her.
“What?! We don’t have metabolisms like we’re in our twenties anymore, even if I tended towards being thin this still takes work.”
“Mhm, sure Narcissa.” She finished her breakfast and stood. “That’s why you just pack on the pounds after eating four crepes.”
“It’s brunch, everyone knows that brunch calories do not count.” She finished her last bite and stood with Andy. Both of them set to clearing the table like they had every Sunday brunch since perhaps a month or so in when Narcissa finally was comfortable enough to actually be a person instead of a lump on a log.
They were at the kitchen sink when an owl appeared, a familiar one at that. Wilhelmina tapped on the glass politely and Andy let her in with a wave of her wand. She expected the bird to land in front of her but she fluttered down in front of Narcissa and held out her leg.
“Just what in the world is Hermione Granger doing sending you a letter? Did you both end up on some charity board together?” Andy asked, inching over trying to figure out just what Hermione had sent her.
Narcissa froze and looked over at Andy carefully. “No, not a charity board.”
“Then why is she writing you? Inquiring minds would surely like to know.”
Her sister pulled the letter towards her and went about finding a few treats for the owl before sending her back off into the air with a pat or two on the head.
“Was she the one you were writing before brunch?” It would track considering the time elapsed from when Narcissa had gotten here, if Hermione had responded as soon as she’d gotten the letter, then Wilhelmina wouldn’t have had to fly far to get here to deliver the letter, she and Hermione lived on the same side of town.
“Yes.” She rolled up the letter carefully and stuck it into her pocket for later.
“Wow, I don’t think I’ve seen you this cryptic since you kissed Yvette Greenthorn in fourth year and I walked in on you two, and considering who you are, that is very much saying something,” Andy teased.
“What would you just like to read my personal correspondence now?” Narcissa snapped.
Andy held her hands up in surrender. “No, I was just expecting a bit more information than yes or no answers.”
Narcissa relaxed consciously, some of the tension flowing out of her but other parts remaining stiff like a marionette. “It’s just a rather new endeavor, Andy. I’d rather not talk of it. I’ve already had to, well, I…” She trailed off and swallowed. “It’s more complicated than it is at first glance.”
That actually caused Andy some concern. Narcissa stumbling over her words? Narcissa using her nickname? It really was a sensitive subject.
“Alright.” She reached out and rested a hand on Narcissa’s arm, feeling the warmth of the skin beneath it that a great many in their society didn’t think existed, but Andy had always known better. She’d been there for scraped knees and first loves and knew that under it all Narcissa burned brighter than the lot of them, fire that burned with an almost invisible blue flame was the hottest after all. “Just know that I’m here to talk about it if you want, whenever you are actually ready.”
She took a deep breath. She wasn’t ready to talk about her own letter writing, not really, but if it would bring Narcissa any comfort she’d get ready quick. She squeezed Narcissa’s arm once before dropping her hand and looking out the window.
“I know we haven’t spoken much of him considering all of the history between us, but Ted once told me that if anything should ever happen to him I should find someone else who made me happy, that I shouldn’t feel any guilt.” She laughed, sadness tearing at the edges of it. “For ages I didn’t think I’d ever be able to, he was just...he was my person. I wasn’t even sure if there was anyone else out there for me. I would have been fine with that, really.”
She paused for a long time, turning to make sure that the rest of the kitchen was clean. Of course it was spotless now that the dishes were done and they’d taken care of the leftovers. There was nothing to occupy her hands with as she talked through this. Damn their efficiency.
Narcissa, for her part, just stood at the counter, waiting quietly for Andy to go on. Andy thanked Merlin that her youngest sister had always been the one to know when to stop and listen and when to press. Bellatrix had always been like a charging bull to get to the issue and a great many times that hadn’t been the best way to go about it. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d blown up at Bellatrix instead of telling her what was the matter. Perhaps in the long run that was better, especially since some of those times had been issues in the run up to falling for Ted.
“I got a soulmate letter in the mail this previous week,” she finally said, quietly, feeling the weight lessen on her shoulders and fall into the pit of her stomach, waiting for what Narcissa would say.
“Do you know who sent you the letter?” she asked, quietly. Her own hands had grown whiter around her letter, gripping on for dear life, though Andy had no idea why.
“No, not yet. I think...I’m fairly sure I know them, though, either that or there truly are two little boys who ate fifteen cauldron cakes at seven years old and received a massive stomach ache for their trouble.”
Narcissa laughed quietly. She’d been there for that party, nervous in her own way, sticking to the background instead of trying to be the center of attention. Harry had welcomed her, always still so grateful that she’d saved him from Voldemort, that she’d done it for Draco. She’d watched Teddy scarf down each and every cake, after about the seventh she’d told Andy of his scheme with laughing eyes, slipping into her mind at the shallowest of levels to not give the game away. It had stopped her in her tracks, feeling Narcissa like that again. She’d done the same all the time when they were children, how else were they supposed to communicate in front of their parents, but it had been so long...she’d rather forgotten every word that Narcissa had said until Teddy had been down for the count. To be fair, he had learned from his mistake at least from the experience. Now if he was nicking treats he’d stop at a mere ten.
“Who do you think it is then?” Narcissa asked. There had been a fair number of people at that party, parents of Teddy’s school friends, his aunts and uncles, their families, it had been a definite house full. And yet she knew who she wanted it to be, even if she wasn’t sure.
“I’m not sure. I...I have a guess, but I don’t know if that’s wishful thinking or not.” She snorted loudly. “I suppose it’s not even wishful thinking already it’s…” she sighed heavily. “As you said it’s a more than its fair share of complicated already. If it was just her it wouldn’t be. I would need to take things slow, but she has two other soulmates apparently and I’ve no clue who the third is but the second…”
Narcissa looked like she’d been struck by lightning. “Is Bellatrix.”
Andy’s eyes darted up to her sister’s pale blue ones, washed of all their color now so they looked almost grey. “What? How did you know?”
Paper crumpled in Narcissa’s hands, the softest hint of ripping coming from the letter. And then she just started to laugh, a bit bitter, but also something that sounded a bit like relief. “Because I’m the third. Oh, of course if it was two of us it would be all of us, why would I think otherwise. It makes perfect sense and yet…”
Andy stood flabbergasted. Her brain just had to take a few seconds to catch up. How, who, what? What Narcissa was saying did make some sense and yet. Merlin’s hairy ballsack, and she thought it was complicated before. Perhaps she should have just kept her mouth shut.
She silently summoned a couple of glasses to the counter in front of her and then the secretly stashed bottle of Firewhiskey, which if Dora hadn’t found in her rebellious teenage years, she was certain Teddy would never find. She poured them both a healthy measure, and it didn’t much matter to her right now that it was before noon on a Sunday, this called for a drink. She handed Narcissa a glass who took one without a word otherwise, and took a long swallow. Andy did the same, relishing the burn as it grounded her in the moment.
“Now what?” Andy asked when the alcohol had done its job of loosening her up just a bit. She turned and sank down in one of the kitchen table’s chairs and sighed.
“I’m not entirely sure. Hermione doesn’t know who you are, correct?”
Andy’s eyes snapped to Narcissa again, but that realization was nothing compared to realizing that all three Black sisters were soulmates to one woman. She had wanted it to be Hermione when she’d gotten the letter. They’d entertained some light banter over the years that could have turned into honest flirting if both of them hadn’t been so busy at work or otherwise preoccupied by the realities of life. They meshed well and Teddy adored her. It was truly a no brainer. Well, at least she was right about that.
“Until this moment I wasn’t even sure it was her,” she said, quietly. “So no, she doesn’t know it’s me. Does she know it’s you?”
“No. I only know it’s her because when I went to see Bellatrix she told me. Hermione has signed her letters to Bellatrix with her name since the beginning since Bella told her to kindly take herself elsewhere.”
Andy snorted at that. That was certainly one way to put it.
Narcissa looked down at the mostly crumpled letter in her hands and sighed. She placed it on the table and carefully smoothed it out before unrolling the little scroll, taking out a little bauble and putting it to the side before reading the entire thing quickly. Even with her eyes blazing over the words, Andy could see the shift in Narcissa’s face. Stressed as she had been moments prior, her expression smoothed out, and her lips quirked up at the sides more and more with every line.
Merlin and the gods be damned, it was too much to resent her sister for...not stealing her soulmate, but perhaps co-opting would be a better word, it didn’t matter really. It was hard to be angry when Narcissa actually looked happy, truly and uncomplicatedly happy for the few moments she was reading. Godric Gryffindor’s mouldy bones, she this would all be somewhat easier if she didn’t love her sister. Then any resolve she had to have Hermione for her own wouldn’t have just melted into a pile of flobberworm slime.
Though, to be fair, she wasn’t even sure she could do that to Bellatrix and her relationship with Bellatrix was...complicated to say the least. She supposed as much as she was a Slytherin and could doublecross with the best of them if needed, well, this just wasn’t needed. She was going to have to find a way to deal.
“She knows that I know it’s her,” Narcissa said, setting down her letter. She pointed to where Hermione had signed with her own name this time. “She deduced from the fact that I went to see Bellatrix and talk all of this over. She figured Bella wouldn’t keep who she was quiet.”
“Not a wrong assumption. She never has had a problem with dropping secret knowledge if it serves her in some way.”
Narcissa nodded once. There was no real denying it, of course Bellatrix did such things. If anyone in the family had deserved to be sorted into Slytherin, it had been their oldest sister.
“Do we tell her that it’s us?” her sister finally asked after a long moment of silence and a few more burning gulps of Firewhiskey.
“I don’t know,” she said, polishing off her glass, but not refilling it. One would be enough for this conversation, it had to be.”I don’t want to lie to her.” She looked out the window to see glimpses of Teddy rushing around the yard, yelling, chasing at birds presumably until his friend arrived. “But if this was anyone else, no, I wouldn’t tell them yet. I wasn’t ready before this and even if it is Hermione, even if I wanted it to be her I…” She swallowed hard. “Even after twelve years, it’s been twelve years last month, Salazar f*cking Slytherin below, it’s still hard. I’m...I am ok with moving on now, I think, finally. Having it be Hermione does help. I just worry that if I tell her it’s me it might...blow up? I’m not even sure.”
Narcissa’s hand landed on hers and squeezed gently. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do either, to be honest. I’m worried about what she’ll say when she realizes it’s me. I don’t…” She glanced away and Andy didn’t need her to say more. Rejection from those you wanted acceptance from was the hardest thing.
“She won’t,” Andy said certainly. “If you’ve told her that you were on the wrong side of the war, if she’s willing to give Bellatrix a shot, I don’t think she’ll bat an eye at you. But by all means wait a bit until your mind settles into that fact.” She squeezed Narcissa’s hand back.
They sat in silence for long minutes. There was the whoosh of the fireplace and a small, “Mrs. Tonks?” from the living room. Andy stood on steady feet, one drink, even of firewhiskey not enough to disturb her equilibrium. She appeared in the living room doorway and there was Cecilia, her mother’s head watching from the fireplace. She waved at the woman who smiled back and then disappeared in a flash of green sparks.
“Hi Cecilia, he’s in the backyard already on his broom.”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh great! He said he got a practice snitch from his uncle! I’m going to be a seeker next year so I have to practice.”
She smiled at the girl. “A first year as a seeker hasn’t been done since--”
“Harry Potter, I know.” She waved off the savior of the wizarding world. “Ginny Weasley-Parkinson is a better quidditch player than he is and I’m going to be just like her. Except I want to play on the Harpies too so I can’t be a chaser, I don’t want to knock her off the team or anything, so I’m going to be the best seeker ever.” She held out a shrunken broom. “Can you please enlarge this, Mum said you could and it would be easier to take through the floo that way.”
Andy took the miniature broom from the girl with a smile. “I imagine it would be.” She waved her wand and it grew to a rather new broom, about five model years out of date, but very nice for someone young as she was. “Did you get a new broom?”
Cecilia lit up like a Christmas tree. “I did! Daddy bet me that I couldn’t get straight A’s because I’ve been having trouble in maths all year. I asked what I would get if I win and he said a new broom so I had Teddy help me with my homework, and he said his aunt was a genius and knew maths really well and taught him good too and it worked! I got an A!”
“Congratulations,” she said sincerely. And honestly she was glad Hermione was as good at maths as she was because the way they taught maths in muggle schools made even less sense to her now than it had when Dora had gone. “Have you tested it out yet or is this your first ride?”
“Oh no, I’ve put loads of time in already, but I haven’t with Teddy, I’m gonna race right past him!”
“Well then, don’t keep him waiting.” She gestured towards the back yard.
“Thanks Mrs. Tonks!” And then she shot off with all the contained energy of a ten year old.
She returned to the table where Narcissa was still sitting, her drink now empty in front of her, though she was rotating the cup slowly around, staring distantly at it, thinking. Andy didn’t disturb her, just let her think in peace. There was far too much to talk about to try and interrupt her to ask a knut for her thoughts.
“Andromeda, I know I’ve pushed you to try and reconcile with Bellatrix. I know you’ve only done it for me, I do, but this is far past that,” Narcissa said, finally speaking after at least two rounds of a practice snitch being caught. She could hear the whooping every time one of the children caught it.
“Do I think that I’ll be able to actually live with this?” Andy finished the thought for her.
“Quite frankly, yes. If it’s all going to fall apart...”
“I was willing to try for a complete stranger on the off chance that this soulmate deal would turn into everything I hope it will be. For Hermione?” She sighed, thinking everything over again, just to be wholly certain, but she really didn’t need the time. “For Hermione I’d do anything. I don’t care that I have to share her with you and I’ll find away to come to terms with sharing her with Bellatrix.” She pinched her nose hard, drawing a bit of strength from the pain. “Her therapist has wanted all of us to do group sessions, yes?”
She could feel Narcissa’s eyes widening even without actually looking at her. “Yes, for years now, actually. I did a few in the beginning but--”
“The real issues only come out when all of us are together, yes, I’m well aware.” She summoned a piece of paper and quill before she could change her mind. “Write her. Set up an appointment. Then I suppose we’ll begin the real work of making this actually function.”
Andy opened her eyes to see the look of sheer relief on Narcissa’s face as she took the quill and paper from her hands. She supposed hope that everything would turn out and actually knowing that the work that needed to be done to make it so were two very different things. Hermione Granger was worth it, but they got through this Andy had no illusions that somehow she’d work this particular angle of self sacrifice to get something from her noble Gryffindor, a weekend getaway alone, or something of that ilk. But only once the dust had settled. That was supposing it ever did.
--
Bruce appeared not long after noon, immediately shifting form, just dropping her letter right where he’d come in and sniffing around for the food he certainly smelled in the apartment. She’d just gotten done eating breakfast perhaps twenty minutes ago and the air still smelled faintly of cooked meat, sausage this time for herself, but she’d been rather aware of Bruce’s imminent return so she’d saved some bacon in the fridge for him.
“You know dropping my letter like that isn’t exactly the way to get yourself fed, hmm? Maybe I should just buy some cat kibble for a naughty mail panther.”
The big cat glared at her like she’d just committed blasphemy. He stalked over to the letter, gingerly picked it up, walked it over to her, and then spit it out in her lap. She frowned rather loudly at him, but supposed she’d walked into this particular situation on her own.
“Fine, fine, bacon it is.”
And just like that the glare was gone. So was Bruce really. He was already at the kitchen counter waiting for his food. Hermione stood up and stretched from her curled up position. The book her soulmate had sent her was really quite fascinating. She didn’t think she’d moved other than to turn the pages since she’d finished breakfast, and really not even during breakfast other than to move food to her mouth. Her spine popped pleasantly and she finally wandered over to throw the bacon on a plate and put it on the ground in front of the waiting cat. He immediately went to scarfing it down. Cats, no matter how big they were, sometimes they were wholly the same.
Another owl fluttered in her window and it dropped a letter by her, fluttering around to the platter of cooked bacon she’d left for when Wilhelmina returned. Hermione scowled at the little thing but gave it a piece of bacon. It flew off with it before even scarfing it down. Who in the world was this from?
She opened it and Ginny’s voice came blaring out of it “Granger, I swear to Merlin’s saggy balls you better be listening to this game on wizard radio. I’m gonna break the all time scoring record and if my best friend doesn’t listen to it, are you even my best friend?”
“Technically aren’t Luna and I your best friends, dear?” Pansy asked in the background.
“Woman, you know what I mean.”
“Then use your words, Weasel.”
There was a lot of wordless sputtering as Ginny tried to come up with a comeback for that, but the word weasel usually overwhelmed her prodigious trash talk capabilities with total insult.
“I’m going to kill Draco one of these days for that nickname.”
“Who’s to say that isn’t my long game?” Pansy’s smirk was audible.
“You’re lucky you’re hot, you know that right?”
“Of course. I’m also lucky my wife is hot and has a six pack that I can lick after the game as a reward for her breaking the score record.”
“Right anyway Hermione, listen, there’ll be a quiz, kthanxbai,” Ginny said all in a rush, clearly to follow up on that particular tidbit from Pansy. Those two, it was a miracle they got out of the bedroom.
But seeing as how she was a decent friend, she went and turned on the wireless anyway, and tuned it until she came across the pre-game talk show. There were two wizards harping on just how unprepared the Harpies were as usual, even though stat wise they were the best in the league. She rolled her eyes. Men never did think that an all woman team could perform well. They always ended up amazed when the Harpies won. Honestly, she hoped Ginny’s post-game career of becoming an announcer paid off because she was honestly sick of hearing this drizzle.
She turned it down to a low buzz, waiting for the actual game to come on and wandered back over to her couch, sinking down to open Bellatrix’s letter. A smaller piece of paper fluttered to the ground in her haste to open in. She bent down and picked it up and skimmed it quickly, her eyes widening when she realized what it was. Bellatrix had actually sent her the recipe for the scones! And she had everything on the list in her kitchen. Oh she was definitely making those after she replied to Bellatrix. Not that she still didn’t have most of the batch the older witch had sent her, but she was curious if she could get them anywhere near halfway decent. If she could, it was infinite delicious scones for life.
Alright Minister of Daddy Government, if that’s how you want to be addressed, I’ll certainly oblige,
Well since you fed him bacon, I’m only sending you the recipe for the scones and not more scones. You don’t deserve them for thwarting my punishment plans, you bloody wanker. Aren’t you supposed to be able to read my mind, Granger, what being a soulmate and all. Or is your mind too weak to reach me from all these kilometers away. Oh no, what a shame. I’m fainting on my chaise as we speak. And of course he’s not waking you up if he knows you're a soft touch with the food. That cat is the most Slytherin animal I’ve ever met. He knows what’s good for him. As far as I’m concerned about all that, if he’s sleeping in your bed, he isn’t taking up the lion's share of mine, though one might suppose panther’s share is more accurate. Whatever, it’s not like I care about overly f*cking accurate metaphors anyway. The point is that if you like that snake so much, you should know that bacon only doesn’t have the right balance of fat to protein for his whole diet. Fish, chicken and venison along with other cuts of pork round it out nicely. I would have thought that some know it all like you would’ve looked that up by now. Of course if you’re feeling adventurous you can also feed him turtle. Or iguana. Whatever you have on hand in that goody goody house of yours.
Hermione looked at Bruce. “You like chicken too?”
He looked up at her, licking his chops with a rather deadpan expression. He was a cat, even if a large one. Of course he liked chicken.
“Noted,” she said and went back to reading.
I was doing more than flipping you off Granger and let's leave it at that. I’m sure that lovely huge head of yours will run rampant trying to imagine what I was doing, reading you being all sentimental. Yes, yes, I’m not alone, whatever. Even the worst of us hardly are at least in the rather big picture. Insert ridiculous psychobabbly mumbojumbo here. I’m sure you probably keep up with those publications too. Just tell me, how many theoretical degrees do you have crammed up that arse of yours. Not enough to distort its lovely shape from all the rather creepy pictures in the Prophet, but I imagine enough that perhaps you might still be full of hot air.
I’ll have you know I also make gourmet chicken strips with only the finest ingredients and apparently little Ceddy loves them. Of course he has no idea that there’s a full serving of vegetables in them, but half the fun is tricking a rather obviously Slytherin child into eating his vegetables. Draco has the recipe now and I think that’s calming down his rather apoplectic meltdown over chicken nuggets and chips. Ceddy apparently now will eat sweet potato fries since I told him they’re magic potatoes. Score two for Auntie Bella. Tell me, just how successful have you been at getting them to eat a vegetable, hmm? I’ll surely have Lily so wrapped around my culinary finger too that by the time she knows any better she’ll be eating all her vegetables without a fuss. Though the amount that Draco does with those purees and the freezing and everything else is absolutely something some try hard Ravenclaw would do. He’s even shown me the research about how exposing them to a variety of flavors can help reduce picky eating later in life. Honestly, seems exhausting all those things he’s worrying about. If anything he’s married to the proof that not everything in a kid’s life needs to be perfect for a kid to turn out fine. Yes, yes Granger I know Potter isn’t the best example, but you provided your own example so don’t think you aren’t included in this as well. So long as he gets enough nutrients, Ceddy is fine without all the bending over backwards and worrying. Don’t come for me over this or I’ll simply roll my eyes so hard they’ll carry me to oblivion. Hopefully the recipe will distract you enough. Follow it exactly, Granger, no deviation. It won’t work if you deviate. Think of it like a potion if you have to.
Ugh, do you have to be so sappy about all of this. As if I wasn’t gagging in my mouth a little bit over all of this anyway. Plus, I actually don’t mind a crucio every now and again, keeps things interesting. Don’t look at me like that oh Ye High and Mighty Minister. I like a little pain with my pleasure, or didn’t you know that BDSM exists. That being said, fine, whatever, you might have a point about this being mental and emotional pain and that’s a hell of a lot different than an old crucio to liven things up, but...but if I think about that, if I let myself be so soft and squishy about all of this...not yet Granger. Just. Not yet. I’m doing the best I can here just keeping the words flowing.
As far as a funny story...the only one I can think of that won’t have you side eyeing me from across the country right now is one from when Narcissa, Andy, and I were all below Hogwarts age. I was ten, Andy eight, and Narcissa had just turned seven and we were out wandering the grounds. It had just snowed and our parents wanted us out of the house for Gods only knew what reason. Probably so my harpy of a mother could “take a break” as if the bitch actually did any of the child care beyond smacking us silly whenever our “training” wasn’t up to par. Gilded lives we led, so many privileges, whatever else anyone outside of pureblood circles think, but a society that forces women to have children they don’t want, well, then you get bints like Druella Black nee Rosier, don’t you, and childhood that only look golden from the outside. Anyway, we were out and Narcissa wanted to go sledding on the largest hill in the property, which was fairly far away from the house and a good trek through the woods to boot, probably in about eighteen centimeters of snow. Now that wouldn’t be the worst in the world now to navigate, I suppose, but when you’re at the tallest just over 137 centimeters tall and Narcissa was fifteen centimeters shorter, well eighteen centimeters was a bit of a struggle to walk over since you’re sinking almost to your knees, especially while pulling sleds. But it wasn’t as if we had anything else to do anyway. So off we went. We’d gotten perhaps about half way there when a tree root hidden under the snow tripped me and I went down rather hard. Narcissa gasped rather loudly and asked “Bella was it the forest ghosts? I read about forest ghosts!” And then she started to fling snow ball in every direction as if that would do anything against a ghost. Of course I used her distraction to absolutely nail her with a snowball to the face. After that it rather devolved into a snowball war. I don’t think we ever actually went sledding that day. As far as I remember that snowball fight continued until it was almost dark because Narcissa wanted her revenge. Even with Andy on her side she didn’t get it, of course. So fine. Story over.
I don’t need true friends, Granger. If I could have both of my sisters back in my life reliably, that would be all I really want. That seems like even too high an expectation for me, let alone any actual friends outside of that. As far as your second soulmate, there won’t be any problems with getting along beyond harmless spats, trust me, we’ve been through too much together for anything else to come between us. Your third soulmate is more the wild card. Of course you being the woman who likes to tie up loose ends makes a world of sense. Just looking at your political career screams you like things in neat packages, even things that by rights shouldn’t be able to fit in tidy boxes, you seem to be able to make work. I find myself almost hoping that you’ll make this work, but then I get realistic again and go about my day. You’ll have to find out who that third person is before you even have a hope of fixing everything up in your way. But just to be clear, Granger, I don’t need your protection, I don’t need you to have a word with them. I have my big girl pants on at any and all times. Metaphorically of course. I’m usually not actually wearing underwear.
I howled, Granger, howled, at the image of you being a cat. Would you like some of Bruce’s hair next? I’m sure he’d be flattered if you wanted to turn into him for an hour. Maybe you could even eat bacon together. What a thought. Oh my, it is nice to know that even you are fallible, granted you were twelve and the bar was not exactly high for a twelve year old, but perhaps picking someone without a cat would have been your best bet. I don’t think Parkinson ever had a cat. Draco said something about her being allergic once I think. Ironic considering how much she likes puss* now. Oh Merlin , you turned into a cat and now you’re gay! I’ve cracked the mystery of how a woman turns gay right here and right now. Granted I surely didn’t turn into a cat, but if you had to look at Rodolphus for twenty years you’d be gay too. Ugh, the most disgusting man I ever laid eyes on. And yes that does include Tom Riddle when he looked like a snake. He didn’t want to bathe Granger. BATHE. All that class and breeding and YET. Salazar, I’m going to be sick just thinking about it.
-Bellatrix
P.S. I may have actually started down the rabbit hole you suggested, at least for transfiguration theory for injuries, specifically scars. I had a few in mind that I’d like to fix eventually, not all of them mine. I’m in the middle of trying to get a few texts I need to work a bit further on what I have so far to be confident enough to try in on a human subject, but they’re proving hard to get. No one wants to lend their rare book to Bellatrix Black, of course, and a good lot of them need to be seen on site at the library in which they're kept since they’re fragile. We both know that that would cause more than few problems what with my current restrictions. I’ll find something eventually I’m sure and in the meantime I’ve been working with pigs. Bruce gets a nice set of meals out of it, I get to practice to see if what I’ve gotten so far works, and the farmer down the way gets paid enough for a pig or two every now and again that he’s been able to keep the farm afloat. A win-win for all of us one might suppose. And Granger, if you want to be so smart and do research, there’s a copy of what I have so far contained in this letter, just say nunc investigationis and it will materialize. I’m sure they’ll lend you just whatever book you might need to get your little noble hands on to complete the problem.
Hermione grabbed her wand and in a second had Bellatrix’s notes in front of her. It was rather a large volume of notes, scribbled in honestly what had to be a completely different person’s handwriting. How in the world did she write fairly elegantly as one might suspect of woman of high society might in a letter and then...honestly this looked more like a neurotic chicken had gone at the page, letters scrawled quickly and messily across the paper. It was like Bellatrix hadn’t really cared what the writing looked like so long as it was down so she could move on to other ideas. Well, that did sound like her, didn’t it. Oy, she was going to have a bear of a time deciphering this, but she supposed she’d figure it out along the way.
First though, she had a return letter to draft.
She pushed herself up and grabbed parchment and her pen and a clipboard so she could write on the couch. She had a feeling that now since Bruce was licking the plate clean instead of eating he was going to want cuddles, and the couch was certainly the better place to do that. When she sat down again, she actually heard the Harpies game was now playing, so she turned up the volume so she could keep a better ear on it.
“And there’s Weasley-Parkinson coming out of the dugout. Amazing, Tom, she’s predicted to break Cyrus Macanulty’s scoring record this game, did you know?” one of the announcers asked.
“Well, we know our boys the Chudley Canons are going to do their best to keep that from happening. We’ll see if the little lady can get by, Will, they’re have a fantastic defensive season.”
Hermione snorted. Yes because they couldn’t score to save their lives. She didn’t know how many times she’d heard Ginny make fun of them for it this year. And then of course make fun of Ron for liking them. Which had taken the heat off the two of them interacting a time or two at one of Harry’s parties recently so she was thankful for that.
“And with that everyone is on the field. The ref has everyone gathered mid-pitch and looks to be giving the girls a good talking to about a clean game. Their beaters have been committing infractions left and right this year.”
Two. Two entire times and it was at least a month since the last one. Hermione rolled her eyes.
“And the quaffle is up and the game is on!”
And with that Hermione tuned out mostly again, still keeping an ear out. They’d get loud when Ginny actually broke the record, and she was sure her friend would, if only to spite the announcers. She wondered if she’d stop by their box and flip them off again. She’d done that a time or two in the past for various reasons. Hermione hadn’t blamed her really. Instead, she picked up her pen and paper and set to work penning Bellatrix’s reply. Bruce finally decided he’d had enough of licking the plate and came over to lay on her arm just as she was setting pen to paper.
“You know it’s hard to write like this.”
Bruce just grumbled happily and nodded off to sleep half a second later. She rolled her eyes and sighed and continued on. He’d chosen where to sleep, he could deal with the consequences of being jostled.
Bellatrix,
I did indeed walk right into addressing myself as Minister of Daddy Government, you have me there I suppose. I’m not going to be called anything else now, am I? Was that your plan all along? If so, good on you it certainly worked. Godric, imagining the faces of people in the atrium if you ever screamed that at me in the Ministry is just both comical and horrifying. No doubt you’d be cackling in the background of course. I’ll just prepare for that now to save myself from blushing to death.
Listen I’ve been rather wrapped up in writing letters to three people on top of being Minister of Magic to look it up. That is why I asked you what he eats all of a letter ago, remember. You’re the one who supplied me with the equivalent answer of “meat, duh.” I did, however, look up just how much he should eat, so I think I should get credit for that since despite my best efforts, no being a soulmate doesn’t mean I can read your mind long distance. Though honestly I expect that even being in the same room as you wouldn’t give me much more of an advantage. I’m very good at occlumency but only passable at legilimency. I find that that really is all I need to suit my uses. I have no doubt you know just how careless most politicians are with their minds despite walking in a snakes nest. I rather imagine your mental shields are vast and rather intimidating. So I’d rather just wait for you to metaphorically let me in. I can be patient even if I am ever the brash Gryffindor.
As far as Bruce’s diet, however, fish, chicken, venison, and other cuts of pork I can certainly do. I wouldn’t have the first clue where to get iguana or turtle meat besides from a pet and I’m not doing that so those meats will certainly have to do. I’ll try to balance out what I give him in rotation. Cannot have our fine feline feather friend in anything less than his top condition, can we. He does need to deliver letters after all. Also speaking of him being a nuisance and a bed hog, he’s currently laying on me and making this letter rather difficult to write. He’s as happy as a clam though. If panther’s could purr I’m sure he’d be doing something like that. Honestly having him around makes me miss my old familiar Crookshanks. Of course I think they would have hated each other so him being long passed does make having a panther half on my lap easier, but still. Crookshanks was a good cat, even if he knew far too much for a cat too. The company was nice. Having someone to take care of was nice in its own way too, though I could have dealt without the litterbox, even with magic, there’s just something gross about that. Does Bruce have a litterbox? I imagine that’s even worse. Even with that cats just...unconditionally love you, which is always a plus. Not everyone can see the signs, of course, all those articles about how cats are cold and unfeeling show that, but I’m more than observant enough to see them. I still am, observant, Bellatrix, in other situations as well, remember that.
What, did you rub your arse on the page? Or just something like that. I’m sure you’re creative, of course, but remember that I grew up with the Weasley’s, including Fred and George. I’ve had just about every sort of disgusting prank played on me. I can handle whatever you think to throw at me. As I’ve been stating, of course in other situations, but my point still stands here. And you have a shapely ass as well, rubbed on the paper or not, don’t think I didn’t see that backhanded compliment slipped in there. For your information if I hadn’t gone the way I did, I probably would’ve gotten at least two doctorates, one in charms and one in arithmancy. If I was truly being an overachiever then transfiguration as well, but I think that would have been pushing it even for me. I’d collaborate with someone in potions and then try to revolutionize a fair number of fields, but I think medicine would be the first and most important, but otherwise my interests are varied after all. Spells I’ve put together include a library searching spell, an improvement on time turners, and something that ended up being very good at protecting a person on a broom from g-forces so they can break the sound barrier. One of my friends loved that one. She’s playing a game right now, actually and I’m listening to it. Of course since that charm isn’t league legal yet she isn’t using it now, but still. My point stands. I have a wide variety of interests and my research persona would definitely reflect that, too many degrees shoved up my arse or not.
How in the world do you get a full serving of vegetables into chicken strips? Where do you put them? A serving is half a cup. Where is there room for that? I mean bravo for thinking that up, I’m sure Draco greatly appreciates it, but Merlin, the logistics. I also can’t believe that you’re the one who called them magic potatoes. He’s gone on and on to me about that recently. He’s adorable, but his conversation skills are certainly that of a four year olds. He loves magic potatoes and dinosaurs and kids cartoons so heinous I dare not write their name for fear I’d get their theme song stuck in my head and never get it out again today and I want today to be relatively peaceful. Draco certainly would have been at home in Ravenclaw, even if he rejects that fact. He’s smart enough, certainly. The ambition that made him a Slytherin could have been put to use there too. Honestly I think the hat goes off personal preference more than people realize. He wanted to be a Slytherin so he was. Hell, even I could have ended up in Slytherin, the hat did ask, but explained a bit about the house and I chose Gryffindor over that. I was big into bravery as an eleven year old. My favorite stories at the time were knights and princess affairs so I’m sure that had something to do with it. I told Draco that as I was reading Ceddy one as his bedtime story and he accused me of trying to convert the kids to Gryffindors. Apparently he has a bet going with Pansy about the houses his children will end up in. He accused me of fixing the bet. Which of course I laughed about. I think it’s just the nature of good parents to worry, even about things that won’t matter in the long run. And he certainly is a good dad. Who’s boys will just probably end up in Gryffindor. Oh no, what a shame. I certainly don’t have another knight tale to take over the next time I babysit or anything.
I was also planning on following the recipe to the letter, thank you very much. Honestly, I was as good at potions as I was because I was good at following directions. If it seems like I’m sticking my tongue out at you, it’s because I am. It seems easy enough. I’m trying it out after I finish writing this letter. I’ll let you know how it goes in the next one.
Yes, Bellatrix, I know that BDSM exists. I’m an adult in the modern era and I read. I’ve even read a few guides because I was curious and I thought I’d might like to try it one day with a trusted partner. And yes. It’s romance, friendship, whatever, I do have to be sappy about all of this. It may not be an obvious thing now, but maybe one day we’ll look back and appreciate this, hmm? I do know you’re trying. I know you can’t be the sappy one in these letters. I’m more than fine with the snark. I’ll tell you that as many times as you need. Quite honestly I smiled reading your last letter. The story about you and your sisters and the snowball fight was adorable. I can just imagine you all out in the middle of the woods using trees for cover. Exactly how many snowballs did you have piled up around you to fend off both your sisters? Did you use magic to fling them? Or was it just your tactician's mind that fended them off? I’m sure I’d get a different answer from each of you about that day. Once, at Hogwarts, well, more of a whole winter really in third year when we had care of magical creatures a mysterious snowball would hit each of the boys. They never could figure out where it was coming from, bless them. You should have seen the fits they put themselves through to try and figure out who it was. They were convinced it was Draco, meanwhile I was very obviously snickering in the background. Never occurred to them that it would be me. Honestly I still don’t think they know to this day. I wonder if Harry’s ever asked Draco about it...hmm I might have to ask them.
You have Narcissa. I’ve spoken with her at a few parties that Andy’s thrown. She speaks of you, highly of you if I’m reading her right. She’s harder to read than most, what Slytherin mystique and all. I’m more than a little curious about just what she’s thinking at all times really. Sometimes she’ll just open her mouth and say the funniest thing in such a dry voice I find it hilarious. As for Andy...I think deep down she wants to be close again. I know she’s complained to me about Narcissa’s efforts to drag the family back together but it never read like something that was actually wrong, if you understand what I’m saying. It, like everything so recently, will take time and you’re only just at the beginning. Amazing how short life can be but how long some things can take. After that, well, I’m determined that you’ll make at least one other friend while knowing me. And as long as they’re not an axe murderer or something I don’t care who it is. Everyone needs a friend and I stand by that. Whether you want my protection or interference as you might call it is different from whether you need it. We all deserve someone to stand up for us too. And I could do that better if you don’t try to kill me with the news that you mostly do not wear underwear. I don’t even know what to do with that, really. Except I suppose, to say that I’m not currently wearing any either, but I’m at home in sweatpants so I’m not sure if that counts.
Har de har, such funny jokes. No I would not like to turn into Bruce, thank you, even if he would be flattered. And I’ve already had my bacon today. Cooked just shy of burnt as I normally like it. Also, I’m not gay because I turned into a cat, though I did laugh at the joke, I’ll admit it. I mean have you seen women? How could I not be? Have you seen yourself in the mirror? I mean, Merlin saggy underpants, I have eyes. I use them quite a lot. Maybe staring more at a woman than I should. It’s fine. I’m fine. Just very gay. Yes, Pansy is allergic to cats, no I didn’t know that at the time, I was twelve and doing what I could to keep us from being petrified by a very large basilisk. Didn’t really work out for me long term, but at least the story made you laugh. Also, I just. I’m tempted to call Azkaban and make sure that Rodolphus bathes. Because that is just. I’m gagging thinking about it honestly. Plus I can’t imagine that’s good for his health anyway but I just. How did you live with him? I’d take Snake-mort over that too, Godric.
Reminds me of a time that I had a meeting in my office with a dignitary from the US. Either he didn’t shower and was trying to cover it up with cologne or he just thought that the more cologne he had on the closer to Merlin he would get, because he absolutely reeked. My office is the same dimensions as it has been for any of the last few Ministers, so if you’ve been there you know approximately the size of it, if you don’t, it’s a very large office with a few different seating areas along with my desk and a number of bookshelves. I put him as far away as I could from me and still be polite and sat at my desk. He had to be at least three meters away and I still almost threw up. I mean I literally had to reach for a trash can and gag over it he smelled that bad. I couldn’t help it. I had to pass it off as something I had for lunch and excused myself for five minutes to ‘go get a stomach calming draught.’ I left my office and went to my secretary and both of us were frantically trying to figure out what to do to block the smell. Ended up putting mint oil on my upper lip and hoping that that blocked the smell enough to get through the meeting. It did, but only barely. After that I’ve avoided having meetings with him as much as possible and when I do have to, well, I’ve modified the bubblehead charm so it’s completely clear and undetectable so long as you don’t try to put your hand anywhere near my head. That saves me somewhat, but if the meeting goes over an hour I’m still not all the way saved. How he got into politics I’ll never know. Anyone coming within a meter of him should run in the opposite direction, not vote for him.
-Hermione
P.S. The amount of notes you have on this is astounding. I’m rather excited to look over them. Or would be more excited except what in the world is that handwriting, Bellatrix, Salazar, that’s the messiest handwriting I’ve seen short of probably Ron’s but Ron’s a slob in general so that isn’t really surprising. I mean I’ll still be able to read it, but I have questions about how you have two completely different handwritings. I get it being sloppier if you’re in a hurry, but that is...not that. Anyway, I’m reading over it today after I attempt scones despite the struggle. Also if you tell me what books you need I’ll get them for you. Their reservations can be damned. This is too important for them to be a little apprehensive, honestly, the wankers.
She poked Bruce in the side with her non-writing arm. Her writing arm was more than a bit tired from holding him up and writing all at once. The panther cracked his eye open and looked up at her, well, more glared up at her.
“Letter’s done, you going to move any time soon?” She asked him.
He huffed and closed his eyes again.
“I take that as a no.” She thought for a moment. “You know Bruce, if these letters go well I might move in with Bellatrix someday. Then I would be around every day to bother for food and sleep on top of. But in order for that to happen someone would actually have to deliver the letters.”
He opened his eyes again to look at her, considering. She wasn’t lying, not really, she could move in with Bellatrix. It was probably a bit more complicated because she had three soulmates, but she could in theory. The cat just didn’t need to know that, not when she was trying to bargain with him.
Finally, he decided her proposal had merit and he pushed himself up and turned into a bird, landing on top of the stack of papers that formed Bellatrix’s notes. He held out his foot and cawed. Hermione scritched his head for a second and tied on the letter.
“I thought that might get you to move.”
He cawed again, scoffing, and then he was out the window with a shake of his tail feathers at her.
With him gone Hermione went back to listening to the game for a minute to see just where they were in play.
“Weasley-Parkinson with the quaffle, heading towards the hoops with no one around to block her, she’s two goals away from the record now, is she about to make it one?”
“Oh there comes Harcourt on the left trying to catch up with her, he really could use a beater to help slow her down!”
There was an audible gasp from the crowd through the speaker.
“She dodges with what has to be an inch to spare! Merlin, that girl’s awareness on a broom is worth more magic than a whole charms class full of first years.”
Well, then Ginny was doing well it seemed. She got up and stretched, grabbing the recipe for the scones from the table and walking towards the kitchen. Wilhelmina came swooping in with a tired hoot. She landed next to the plate of bacon expectantly. Hermione laughed and broke off a few pieces for her, feeding them to her one at a time until she had her fill. Hermione petted the bird lightly.
“Thank you, I do appreciate it. Go grab a nap, I’m sure there will be more to send tonight after you’re actually well rested.”
The owl hooted again, a little more enthusiastically before flapping over to her favored perch and going right to sleep.
Hermione set about getting out all of the ingredients for the scones, humming to herself lightly.
“Goal for the Harpies!”
In the background fans started to sing “Weasley is our Queen” a song that she knew Ginny personally couldn’t get enough of, and enjoyed thoroughly that she’d co-opted a song originally meant for Ron.
“She’s tied the record now. I think everyone is only the edge of our seats to see if this little lady can do it this game or if the snitch, which has been ever elusive so far, will end her record seeking until next game”
Despite herself Hermione felt herself humming along to Weasley is our Queen, which she would never tell Ginny. She’d never hear the end of it. From her or Pansy for that matter. Gits.
Everything she needed was assembled on the counter so she read through Bellatrix’s instructions once more.
- Preheat your oven to 200C, yes this matters. Put the pan you’re going to use in the oven as well. Yes this also matters. Don’t put the scones on a cold pan to bake or so help me Salazar...
- Mix flour, salt, sugar and baking powder into bowl to combine. Don’t try anything fancy Granger, this isn’t for a grade, just make sure they’re evenly mixed for Merlin’s sake.
- Add room temperature butter and rub it in until the mixture looks like sand. No you cannot do this by magic you have to be able to feel it. Yes the butter has to be at room temperature, I’d like to see you try and rub in cold butter. It would be a nightmare. No you cannot warm the butter by magic, just leave it on the counter and go read or something, I’m not your keeper.
- Whisk your milk and egg together, should look like you’re making particularly milky scramble. Save enough for egg wash, a couple teaspoons should do it. Mix the rest into the flour. I emphasize this now. Do not over mix this. Mix it until it just comes together. If you over mix it I’m not responsible for how dry and chewy whatever monstrosities you make are.
- Take the dough out and put it onto a floured counter. Knead until it’s just turned smooth. Again. Do not over do this. I cannot emphasize this enough. If you do too much you might as well just make bread.
- Cut out scones with a 5cm round cookie cutter, you should get a dozen or so. Take out the hot pan from the oven, throw the buggers on there, egg wash them, put them in the oven. Bake for 10 to 15 minutes or until they’re golden brown. I assume you know what colors are, so.
Bellatrix would be the one to make snarky commentary in a recipe, but she at least got the gist of things. And thankfully her butter was indeed already at room temperature. All she had to do now was preheat the oven and put the pan into heat.
“Oh! Weasley just rammed Lawrence good! Judge’s don’t call a foul though, and one of the Harpies grabbed the flying quaffle.”
“I think that was Marshadow Tom, look there’s she goes. Oh and she’s passed it to Weasley-Parkinson. This whole team really is behind her getting that scoring record today.”
“Wouldn’t you? They’re up a hundred points right now, and the more they support Weasley-Parkinson, the closer they get to running away with the game snitch or no.”
Hermione mixed all the dry goods in a bowl and gave it a thorough mixing before cutting in the butter. Making scones was rather dirty business, really. Her hands were certainly covered in flour and more than a bit of butter by the time the dough looked like sand. She washed her hands then set to mixing the eggs and milk together.
“Oh, she almost lost the ball to Rind, just watch that quaffle drop like a rock, but the like the pro she is, she saved it at the last moment and she’s going again. The beaters are working overtime for the Harpies to clear her path on this historic goal run!”
Ah now they finally seemed to be scrapping the misogynistic comments, thank Merlin. She poured the eggs and milk in and set to mixing, careful not to over mix. She imagined if she told Bellatrix that she’d over mixed it she’d get the most scathing remark ever about it.
“GOAL! Weasley-Parkinson’s done it! This is an historic day in Quidditch history. Merlin only knows how high she’s going to take the record before she retires.”
“Certainly going to be a lofty goal for anyone to chase after when she retires.”
“She’ll be in the Quidditch hall of fame before you can say wingardium leviosa, that’s for sure Will.”
Hermione cleaned her hands and grabbed her wand, casting a patronus. She looked at the otter and smiled. “Tell Ginny I heard her score the record goal and that was a nice save from Rind. Dinner is on me when she pulls herself out of the hangover the team is sure to give her.” And then she sent the patronus off to find Pansy. The Harpies would keep her out tonight, and probably tomorrow night too. She’d see the woman on Wednesday at the earliest, which with her schedule was decent anyway. It gave her enough advanced warning to make sure she had a night off this week to take her out and celebrate.
She finished up kneading the scones and then sliced them, grabbing the tray from the oven and throwing them on and egg washing them. Now all there was to do was wait for hot delicious scones. Hopefully. She still wasn’t sure that even with a recipe they were going to turn out all that well. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried baking before with a recipe. Though she supposed she hadn’t been following Bellatrix Black’s recipe. Her soulmate. Maybe that would lend her something of an oomph in making decent baked goods.
When the timer for the oven went off, an owl flew into her window, the tawny barn owl this time. She smiled at it and took the letter from him.
“You’re in luck. I have some leftover bacon while you wait.”
He hooted happily and took the bacon from her, fluttering over to her perch and settling in to wait for her reply. Hermione unrolled the letter and found not one, but two letters, the one she was expecting from the owl, and a reply from her second soulmate, complete with the usual owl guiding bauble. She blinked. And stared. And blinked some more. Well, even someone without her intellect could put together what that meant. Her first and second soulmate knew each other. And Bellatrix knew her second soulmate. Did that mean that Bellatrix also knew her first one? That at least wasn’t as clear from the two letters in her hands. But still her brain was running a million miles an hour now. Did they get along? Were they already friends? Did her first soulmate know who she was now? Did she care that she was Hermione Granger? Would that change the dynamic they had so far?
She took a deep breath, grabbed the scones out from the still yelling oven, and put them on the counter. They were a bit crisper than she usually liked them, but there were extenuating circ*mstances. They still smelled wonderful so at least she hadn’t burned them. But really that was beside the point. She didn’t have any appetite right now. She needed answers. And the only way she was going to get hose was if she actually opened the letters and read them. Oh Merlin, which one to open first? Maybe she should just pick at random? Oh Godric Gryffindor's sweaty underpants, why was this harder than talking to Bellatrix Black of all people?
She blindly grabbed for a letter and picked it up. It was from her first soulmate. Ok, cool, sure, that was fine, symmetric in a way really. She could do this. This was fine, honestly, it was going to happen eventually anyway. Well, she really wanted it to be under at least slightly more controlled circ*mstances, at least if the two of them hated each other anyway. If they got along it would be just fine and all her heart palpitations would be for nothing right now and that would be fine. She just. Had to read. Ok. Sure. She could do this.
Another deep breath later and she actually managed to start reading.
Dear Hermione,
Ok, fine, that was to be expected since she signed her letter to her second soulmate with her actual name and they had both obviously written things together. That did leave her as the only one who didn’t know who everyone was though, and wasn’t that ironic considering she was the one who started this.
Well, it seems we’re both giving each other quite the shock, though not with spell work this time. Or, not wholly with spell work. I did thoroughly enjoy that bit of work you did on the parchment of the last letter, the excitement was heady, but I think perhaps you’ll have rather put together why that isn’t the most exciting thing about this particular letter considering it came in a pack of two this time. Your letter came to your other soulmate at the end of our traditional Sunday brunch while we were cleaning up. I happened to tease her about it and that led us to talking and talking led us to the conclusion that you were both of our soulmate. I’d like to say it was a surprise, but after Bellatrix….well, I’m not exactly floored with the news. To say my feelings are complicated about the discovery would be more than a bit of an understatement, however. But as you said “with all things come adjustment” and I find myself wanting to adjust, to this, and to Bellatrix. To be quite fair I think this revelation isn’t that terrible, if it had come before the Bellatrix realization, well, I would have been...not overjoyed as such, but understanding I suppose would be a good word. Acceptance and happiness would have been not far behind. I do want your other soulmate to have the best. And I know from personal experience that that certainly is you, Hermione. (Though to be honest it would have been nice not to share in this one instance, I’ve had to share all my life and for once it would have been nice to be selfish) Bellatrix, however, does still complicate things and thrown in with all of this...I do still need that time you promise I’ll have. There are things I need to work out with Bellatrix and your other soulmate together before I’m ready for this to go forward. I do hope you’ll understand.
But now on to other, lighter things, as your letters have brought me joy as of late and I hope they do the same for you. I, being bisexual, find that I might have the best of both worlds in your gay creativity as you put it. Thinking too far outside of the box will only land you somewhere in hot water, but rooted creativity, well, it’s never steered me wrong, and I’ve had a long and successful career as a healer coming up with new treatments. Perhaps one or two of those have been to impress pretty women, but I’ll never tell. That and I was married anyway, but my husband and I certainly liked to look together. We had similar taste in women, it was rather fun honestly. Actually that was how I realized back in my Hogwarts days. I was looking at a woman shopping in Diagon while we were shopping for our final year’s books, absolutely stunning woman, and I looked over to see my husband staring at her the same way I was, and it just clicked. I said to him “I think she’s attractive too” and he sputtered for a bit but when he saw I wasn’t mad he just laughed and laughed. It became a tradition after that.
Well, depending on where we first meet, I’ll make sure to bring a cake. If we choose to meet at a restaurant for the first time, well, I don’t think that they would be so pleased in me bringing our own dessert, but I suppose I could always put it away for later and we could have a nice stroll somewhere, perhaps to a park and then partake. With magic most things are possible after all, and I’ll certainly accept your pledge of loyalty. I can only imagine what delights that would bring me. Your baked goods aren’t as mediocre as you claim, I’m sure. There may be others who are better than you, but a baked good is a baked good even if it doesn’t belong in some high class patisserie. Perhaps you just enjoy the baked goods of others more because you are the one doing the baking. If so then your sugar high on demand does face some obstacles that you would have to deal with before truly enjoying yourself, but such things I think could be overcome. It isn’t war trauma after all. You just might need the right...motivation.
And here a warm feeling shivered up her arms, teasing, lighting along her nerves and making her feel as if she contained sunlight. It traveled throughout her body and settled in the pit of her stomach and oh that was certainly some sort of motivation indeed, but perhaps not for baked goods.
I’ve actually been thinking for about the sugar high potion off and on, modifications to it could actually have some decent medical outcomes if it was altered slightly in function. I might even begin to try it. The base, I think, might be a standard nutritive potion and also a dash of pepper up, of course from there it would get more difficult to work out and make sure those two formulations actually play well, but an interesting challenge, certainly. For now, though, I think we’ll have to rely on your self-control to keep from having to buy a new wardrobe every few months. Something tells me, however, that you don’t truly need it to keep up at work. You already work hard enough, why force yourself into flitting about even faster. You wouldn’t want to burn holes through the carpet now would you?
Oh, believe me, I know where he puts it. The child even at seven could put away food like he’s a grown man. He gets it from his mother, surely. When she was home on breaks and going through a growth spurt I had no idea where she was putting it, other than perhaps into the centimeters she was growing. She ate more than her father. We both wondered at multiple points if she might have a hollow leg because she most definitely didn’t gain an ounce of fat. Honestly I didn’t see that girl gain any weight until she was pregnant. Granted, she was active and flitted around and goodness knew her magic did burn up a great deal of energy, but even still. More than I’ve ever eaten in one sitting certainly. I truly am afeared for the larder stock when he gets older, even more if he brings friends with similar appetites. Maybe I should started saving up the extra grocery budget now....No pizza rolls and sweets though, or I suppose, not all pizza rolls and sweets. I can be a fun parent, but only within reason. Growing boys need correct nutrition after all. I admit I am laughing at the image of you presented with so much food you didn’t quite know what to do with it all. Clever of you to switch plates with your friend, though, I think I would have tried vanishing it somehow. Though I don’t suppose you were on an old pureblood estate that has ways built into them that can thwart the underaged magic ban, so that wouldn’t have been the same option for you as it was for me. I also grew up with two sisters so passing it off to them wouldn’t have helped me, but a teenaged boy would have helped a great deal. Glad they were smart enough to stay away from your sweets, though, I would hate for anything to take your sugar away from you…
Hermione didn’t know why she was blushing at that last line, but she was. She put her hands on her face to try and cool her hot cheeks down, but her skin wasn’t really listening to her. Merlin, how could this woman flirt just with the mention of baked goods.
I’m certainly not trying to kill you, love, and definitely not before seeing you die of being gay in person. After we’re in each other’s presence, perhaps, well, I am a healer, so I can bring you back from whatever cardiac arrest you might experience.
Oh yeah, could she resurrect her through a letter because that’s what she was going to have to do if this letter continued like that. There certainly wasn’t anymore blood in her body that wasn’t in her cheeks. She was infinitely glad that Ginny or Pansy couldn’t walk through the floo right now because if they saw her blushing this hard she’d never hear the end of it.
I’m sure you’re very cute while blushing so any effort to revive you would be well worth it. As for MILF, why be shocked that I know what one is when I’ve been told I am one by more than a handful of younger colleagues over the years. None of them were my soulmate, however, so they were sent away with a thank you but no. Well, the first one had to explain to me what a MILF and then he was sent on his way, but still. I suppose I could have looked up what it meant on the internet, but at that point I hadn’t really gone to the library for anything more than romance novels. Then a rather industrious librarian that I had made friends with asked me if I had ever used a computer before and since I hadn’t, showed me the basics and then directed me to a few beginners guides and from there I was off. It truly is a wonderful resource. Goodness knows it’s helped me with my child’s schooling. How they teach maths is just atrocious. Who even begins to understand it. Maths should be maths and any way you solve it should be right, but of course not. I understand that it’s supposed to be an easier, more intuitive way to understand the concept and will set them up later for better performance, but the headaches, Hermione, the headaches. I know that most of my colleagues haven’t bothered with it, though I am seeing a few of the junior staff talking about it, all muggleborns of course. Explaining it to a pure or half-blood just leads them to stare at me blankly like I’m a madwoman. Considering most witches and wizards think most muggle inventions are utterly useless, I think it will be a long time even with the muggleborns singing the praises of technology before we see its widespread use. Most people still believe magic and technology can’t coexist after all and we both know that’s utter tosh. Older generations can become so set in their ways and long for the old days when the truth is they were never that good if one only looks behind the patina of nostalgia.
Hermione stopped reading as it felt as if someone was now holding the hand she was using to hold the letter. She gasped and dropped the page and the feeling faded quickly. She picked up the paper again and tilted it towards the light. She could see the faint scratch marks of runes in the page. She shook her head. Merlin, the woman had beaten her to the punch.
Well, if you think you can reach through the letter with arithmancy, I just proved you can with runes. It honestly wasn’t so hard to modify the spells I’ve been using to...spice up my letters. I didn’t think you’d mind. Considering you deserved some sort of nice gesture after your lovely sentiments. You are ever so sweet to a yet unknown witch, soulmate or no. I’m more than sure you have a wonderful heart, Hermione. I’m very glad your letter came to me even with all the rough spots. I believe it will all be more than worth it in the end.
I do have days where I would like to bang my head against something, but honestly I think that days as a politician would rather have me on a broom to the moon. I certainly would have hexed that man in your office coming in with a bill that benefited his “friend” in the potion business. Which is why I’m a healer and not a politician. Patients can be frustrating, but most of them will behave if you spend a few minutes to educate them on their treatment or what they did wrong to end up in the hospital. Politicians, well, I can’t imagine that works out so well. If you ever need me to spam someone’s office with letters, I might know a way to make that happen that would circumvent such controls that should prevent that. I’m more than willing to do so for you. It seems only fair considering your fight to make the wizarding world a better place.
I never did like Severus Snape. He was a few years below me in Hogwarts and honestly he seemed to be a rather huge git. My sister who was in his year was not a fan of him either for knowing him better. That man should have never been allowed to teach children. I know Dumbledore wanted to keep him close, but was it really worth it? Honestly a whole generation of students put off of potions when it’s one of the most useful magical subjects. I just. Am taking deep breaths to calm myself because if he wasn’t dead I’d kill him myself if he even so much as looked at my child. So anyway, if you need any help confront a professor with frightening undertones, I would certainly help. Goodness knows if they’re being mean to one student, they’re probably being mean to more and who knows if those other students have parents who would stand up for them. As for broken wands and accidental spells, well I’ve hopefully taught my boy to take care of his possession better than that, but if an accident does befall him I’ve more than enough money to buy him a new one as soon as possible. The rat cup must be avoided at all costs of course. Honestly your year was very accident prone in general. I don’t remember anything blowing up more than once or twice a year for us. Then again I heard Seamus Finnegan liked to blow things up for fun, so I suppose your year was an outlier and should not be counted.
Well, I’m glad your friend hasn’t ruined all Slytherins for you, especially those of us who flirt. Though I can’t imagine Bellatrix is flirting. What she counted as flirting years ago was mostly just flat out teasing, granted that was at Hogwarts, so she could have grown out of that at least. Thank Merlin for growth and learning, hmm? I’m sure your friend is in a better place and despite my complicated feelings on Bellatrix I do know she is too. But yes. The Cain instinct. And honestly probably the crude innuendos from her later, though I don’t mind those as much. They might just be right after all.
With Fondness,
-A
Hermione set the letter down and took in a deep breath. Ok. Alright. Nothing to send her mind into absolute overdrive. Just because she’d sent the letter with her other soulmate it didn’t look as if everything was going to implode. Ok. Alright.
But what about her second soulmate….
She picked up the letter and started reading that one immediately.
Dear Hermione,
Well, I could not have begun to imagine that this was the place that I would be writing this letter to you. I suppose to cover your last written assumption, yes Bellatrix did tell me who you were when I spoke with her. Her revelation to me wasn’t so much chaos as it was...well, you know that she’s struggling to come to terms with all of this, to let herself want a real connection outside of family. Her telling was more to emphasize the point that she wasn’t worthy than a whirlwind need to spill secrets. She actually assumed I’d already figured it out, actually. I admit I hadn’t the slightest clue it was you. I was putting pieces together, of course, what good Slytherin wouldn’t, but I didn’t have enough information for a good conclusion as of yet, just suspicions. As for now, writing this letter on my sister’s kitchen table? I think you could knock me over with a feather. Bellatrix made sense. She and I are very close, always have been, two sides of the same coin in ways beyond words can describe. It would make sense that we would both compliment the same witch, but my sister...she’s always been different. Or, perhaps, not always, but long enough that it certainly seems like it. And yet the way she speaks of you makes it very clear that she fits too. I admit, I did not like the thought of sharing you, being the youngest and always getting what I wanted outright growing up has come to bear in such ways, but if I do have to share then these are the people I would mind sharing with the least. I’m sure there will be some rather fun sibling spats to deal with, but at this point if we haven’t broken for good I do not think we ever will. Not to say that I think getting to a place that’s comfortable will be easy, but I think it’s more than possible. My sister wants to work for it. I want to help her. I want to help us . We all deserve this peace in whatever form we find comfortable sharing it in. For now, until my sister is comfortable enough, I think I will still take you up on that offer of not revealing who I am. She doesn’t need the pressure of me incidentally revealing who she is by revealing myself. I am… always reluctant to put any true pressure on her. Our bond is rebuilt, stronger than ever I think, without the looming presence of our parents, but I never wish to see it broken again, so I will not risk it.
Now I suppose that all of the most important issues are out of the way, it’s on to the rest of your letter in relative peace. I do actually subscribe to both newspapers you named plus Le Cri de la Gargouille, The Wizard’s Voice from the States, and The Wizarding World News. After everything I find that even with my contacts in the Ministry it always does to keep myself apprised of goings on both here and elsewhere. I would like to know the first hint of something that reeks of dark magic so I can fight against it. I may not have social clout anymore, but I certainly do have money, which is its own sort of power. I think it’s the least I can do after everything. Seeing as my social schedule is rather empty as well, I do also have time for a great deal of other reading. I’ve worked through over half of the family library, and considering it’s one of the largest private libraries in Britain, I suppose that truly is saying something. I’ve always been drawn to learning and it’s certainly better than sitting around and feeling sorry for myself or some other such nonsense.
Yes, I am well aware that you punched one of your bullies in the face in your third year. I knew Draco at the time and he...well he certainly was anything but quiet about the occurrence, at least to me. I won’t deny that he was most assuredly a great deal to handle at thirteen, then again what teenager isn’t, always thinking they know best. I think of myself at the same time and I wonder how anyone put up with someone so insufferable. Perhaps it was because most of the people I knew at the time were also teenagers. I’m afraid his tendency to be a drama queen is wholly associated with the Malfoy line. Ask any pureblood and I’m sure they’ll tell you they’re known for their dramatics. I’m sure you met Lucius in the course of the war. With all that hair flipping he did, if that didn’t rather scream drama queen I don’t know what did. I’m wholly glad that Draco managed to outgrow that man’s shadow and turn into such a wonderful young man. I’m proud to know him, so very proud. I’m glad he’s friends with you now as well, I’m sure you’re a good influence on him, even if he can buy you off with food. My favorite baked good is peach pie, though only really at the height of summer when the peaches are just picked and are juicy enough to run down your chin. They’re wonderful. At other times of year I do like mincemeat almost as well. If those are amenable for our future celebrations then I certainly welcome them, though I would welcome any baked good if you were the company, so there isn’t any worry if you have something against good tasting pies.
I do actually know a few Ravenclaw bookies as you put it. They do fairly well, but not quite so well as Slytherins. There is a sort of deviousness one needs to always know where the outcome of bets your running will go. They can run odds and statistics all they want, but nothing will beat good, hard knowledge, if you know what I mean. As far as if my son is in Slytherin, well, of course, my entire family has been in Slytherin save for one notable exception since the founding of Hogwarts itself. Whether or not that ties into the drama queen gene, I’m unaware. I do not think of myself as a drama queen, thank you very much, but I am devious and clever. Perhaps I should become a bookie, hmm? Should my first game be a bet on when we meet in person? I do have more inside information than anyone outside this little quartet. Bellatrix always did like making a few galleons on a bet, I’m sure she’d go in with me and we’d make quite a bit off of some rather unsuspecting members of society who certainly could stand to lose a few galleons and have them donated to worthy causes. It certainly bears thought.
I’ll always be honest with you, Hermione. It’s not necessarily my normal mode of communication, but I’ve been learning over these intervening years since the war. I’m quite glad I have going into all of this now. There are a great many things between the four of us that I think we can build upon, where one of us leaves off the others can step in for support. Perhaps the four of us together can be most of what we need. Of course there are always outside friends and family that take up parts of life that must be maintained as well. I think perhaps...perhaps where I went wrong before was thinking that family was the only thing that mattered. It will never be anything but the most important thing to me, I cannot change that much, but I can change my approach, certainly. If I had had anyone, anyone outside of the people that my family deemed appropriate, things might have been different. Of course now that means actually finding others who would want to socialize with me, but...well, let’s consider this the first step. Communication with three Slytherins and a Gryffindor is going to be interesting, perhaps with a good amount of yelling, perhaps with icy silence, I cannot predict the future, even if my mother wished one of us would have inherited her side of the family’s tendency towards being seers, but we do all want this to work. I think that will be enough.
All of this compels me in a way as well, I understand. Or perhaps I don’t understand either, as you said, it’s hard to know. All I do know is that you, Hermione Granger, offering a hand out to Bellatrix, to me, and to my sister in the darkness is perhaps the kindest act I can think of. I find I...you’re special, not in the way that media has portrayed you, though there is an essence of the true self in that as well, but how you are here, in your letters to me. The excitement I feel on seeing your letters is more than I think I would feel for anyone else in this short of a time frame. I know that you’ll handle things delicately. I know you will not quit. I find myself relaxing increment by increment and I just...sometimes you rather render me speechless. I just know that as you reach out to help Bellatrix, I want to help you in return. Hope is all well and good, communication is all well and good, but the want has to be there as well, don’t you think? High stakes or not, if the want is there, if the work is done...I know these things can go wrong, Salazar knows I’ve seen them, but I think you might just have me becoming an optimist. Unfortunate. Only you could get me to be something so naive I think and yet I don’t resent it. I just feel...lighter than I have in years. How do you do that? How have you done that with all of us? Made us want for the better with a week’s worth of letters? Perhaps you are the miracle the papers make you out to be. Perhaps we all are, in our ways. I suppose the only thing left is to continue on and see.
How was your day of reading? Have you learned anything important from that book? I skimmed over it before I sent it to you, I saw a few relevant parts, but nothing fits our situation quite well enough work wholly. Between you, myself, my sister, and Bellatrix I’m sure we could figure out some sort of ceremony that would be possible to suit us if we ever wanted such a thing, what do you think? As far as your middle name being gay disaster, I have to admit, I rather think it’s Jean isn’t it? Draco said something of the sort when you were in school together, going on and on about how plain it was or some posh. He was wrong, it’s a lovely middle name. I have a great amount of question of how your birth certificate ended up blank, but I leave that to your discretion to answer. It doesn’t feel as if it’s a story that...happened frivolously. I imagine if ever we were to perform any ceremony modified from the book you have, your birth certificate would update as magic is wont to do with any name change. I’ve heard from my sister that you have to physically go through and change your name in the muggle world and that it takes a vast amount of paperwork, which honestly just seems so impractical and that there should be a better way to do it. I admit, seeing my maiden name appear on all my documents the second the divorce went through was a large dose of relief, though I’m not opposed to it changing to something...better in the future.
You may find my ex-husband hard to punch, Minister as you are. I’m not sure it would look good on the office if you punched an inmate. As he’s in there for life, well, when you decide to retire from your office, I think then you might be able to get a shot in if the need still strikes you. Please record it for posterity, Anathema has been offering to off him for decades and I’m sure she’d like to see it. I think it’s only fitting that he lives out his punishment, though, much to her chagrin. She has always been a good friend, really, if a bit more murderous than a Gryffindor might befriend. Whenever this is all out in the open, I think we should all have lunch together. She’s already grilled me on why my last letter seemed happier. I told her the bare bones of it, but I’m very sure that that will not hold her off for long. I suspect by week’s end she’ll be at my doorstep wondering just why I didn’t tell her that it was Hermione Granger I was writing and making eyes over. But more dramatically put and with an Italian accent. Oh in another life her and I would have been rather unstoppable together, but friends with her in this one is most certainly enough.
Merlin, a confluence of Slytherins, whatever shall you do indeed? I do hear we can be quite handy to have around and I certainly don’t plan on activating your Cain instinct. Or if I did with anything, “side hustle” or otherwise, well, I assure you my gifts would be rather magnificent. Books, old, rare, first edition books come to mind as a gift idea. Perhaps a bit of bribery to make sure your political enemies go down, you know, practical things of course, darling. As for tea in the library, well I have in there all the time, Merlin knows we are witches, what’s a bit of spilt tea to clean up when you have a wand, even around ancient tomes. And considering that all of your soulmates have seen just how I process magic, they won’t be surprised at our staring off into space. If all of your other friends have as well, then unless we make new friends, our “possessed doll stares” will cause no alarm. Goodness, now you’ve made me long for those days already when I’m rather sure they’re still more than a bit off. I suppose for now I can get by with lending you a book that I’ve read every few days and picking your thoughts on it will have to suffice. I was thinking of rereading one of my favorite arithmancy texts, actually, one of the rarer ones that you may not have read as of yet. Would you like to participate in this long distance day in the library, Hermione? I do hope so. Anything to feel just a bit closer in this interim time.
Wonderful! I’m glad the solution worked as I thought it would. I imagine your days as Minister can be rather fraught. I’m glad anything I contributed might make them easier. I do recall the rather abysmal system there. I went with my ex-husband more than a few times when his power in those halls was ascendant. Seeing as I was just there for pretty arm adornment most of the time, I wandered off as much as I could to find interesting things, books mostly, though artifacts are always interesting as well. I had the same issues and seeing as I did not have a great deal of time to search, well, it was rather frustrating. Good to know that era is over. As far as problems to solve, I actually have one for you, tap the page when you’re done reading and the back should display what I have so far in the solution. There are some rather insidious wards on the dark depths of my property, nowhere anyone would go, really, if they weren’t family, just old vaults from the time before Gringotts, that were used in subsequent years whenever my family was distrustful of the goblins. In more recent years, they were the last places where dark objects were stored. I’ve cleared those out, but the wards...well, quite literally they’re built to kill anyone not family or formally married into the family and will kill anyone not of pureblood even if they are married to one of us. Obviously, this cannot stand, but I’ve been stuck on the solution for more than a few years, actually, piecing out the solution a bit at a time in moments of inspiration, but they’re ancient magic and I believe I’m less than halfway there. Any insight you might have would be wonderful indeed.
Considering this letter and what happened before it....suffice to say that I stayed awake during my brunch. Whether or not I might nap later after the crash that is sure to follow all this adrenaline, well, we shall see shan’t we?
Sincerely yours,
N.A.B.
Hermione relaxed all the way now. Ok. Alright. Both of her soulmates were fine, perhaps a bit rattled, but fine. Nothing was going to explode in anyone’s face now. She just had to reply and pretend things were normal. Well. Besides both of them knowing who she was now. Actually all three of them. And here Hermione was only knowing who one of them was. She had promised that she wouldn’t look into it, though and she was a woman of her word. She ran her hands through her hair and sighed. Two people with history with Bellatrix, one bad, and the other, well N.A.B. sounded like she liked Bellatrix for the most part, and she was sisters with the one who’d had a bad experience. What a family. Though not super surprising considering they were purebloods. But they were probably all contemporaries no matter what. Her fondness for MILFs certainly had shined through then, hadn’t it. She was never going to hear the end of it from Pansy, she was certain. No matter, it wasn’t like she didn’t have information on Pansy that she’d been saving to use as “please shut up” blackmail for a while. She’d probably pay for it eventually but until then bliss .
What she could do for now was turn over her second letter and look at the problem set before her and try to work out a solution. It would calm her mind down before she tried to reply to their letters. Being calm never hurt, and well, of course she just couldn’t reply to her second soulmate without some sort of progress on the problem. She smiled and tapped her wand against the letter and gasped at the warm feeling of calm that enveloped her as the text showed up. Her body relaxed back into the couch and oh, she felt like she could just take a nap right now. How had her soulmate known she might need that? Well, she supposed it might be a bit obvious considering the bomb dropping that they were sisters, but. She yawned. Perhaps a nap before she replied? It couldn’t hurt since it was Sunday after all.
She curled up on the couch and dozed off, still surrounded by soothing, almost familiar magic.
When she finally woke up almost two hours later she was hungry and certainly ready to look at the problem before her. She wasn’t in the mood to cook, so she sent out for take out while she looked everything over. The terms she focused on almost immediately had to do with the killing of anyone without pureblood. Something reminded her of spells she’d seen before in her time working her way up through the Ministry. Frowning, she sketched out a partial solution that upon double checking matched what her soulmate had gotten, but then hers went a bit farther. Bolstered by the confidence, she worked until the buzzer went off an hour later, announcing that her pad thai had arrived. She paid for it and sat back down, scooping noodles into her mouth as she still scribbled down bits of magical theory and then crossed them out until something made sense and clicked into place in her vision.
By the time she was done, she had another few terms, but that’s all the more she seemed to be able to do now. Her magical vision seemed to keep running against a term that she’d never seen before but felt like old family magic, something that existed long before wands were the norm. She had a feeling that that wasn’t something she’d be able to solve, and so she grabbed a new piece of paper and fleshed out the solution she’d added to so far and smiled. She’d look at the rest of it later to see if there was anything else she might help with, but for now she was going to reply to her letter with the satisfaction of a job well done. It was about the little victories after all, wasn’t it?
Dear N.A.B.
Well, if you could be knocked over with a feather, I suppose I could say the same. The fact that you know Bellatrix and my other soulmate is your sister is certainly not something I would have thought of when I sent out the first letter. I guess in some ways it does make it easier, you know exactly who everyone is and perhaps how to work with them, but still, everything is far from out of the woods yet even with that, I understand. I’m glad that we all want to work for it, that we’re all trying, but even with all that it’s reassuring to read your words that you don’t think after everything that this will break the bonds you all have. I couldn’t stand it if it was, honestly. I can deal with sibling spats, I can deal with work, communication, anything, just as long this doesn’t shatter you all irreparably. As far as sharing me, well, there will certainly be times where you don’t have to share, where it will just be the two of us one on one, of course. Healthy relationships with multiple people need to schedule such times to keep all the bonds strong. The book you lent me said as much, though more indirectly than a few books I’ve picked up from niche muggle bookshops via online order in the last week. They harp on quality time and communication, which isn’t a surprise. I’ve never really had any trouble communicating, I surely hope it doesn’t start now. I suppose the largest test is communicating in a productive manner. Merlin knows that right after the war that was something I had to work on in therapy. I could always make myself be heard, but actually saying what I needed without obfuscating it or belittling people? Well, I wasn’t good at that before the trauma and it definitely only got worse, but I learned, and I still go once a month even now as a check-in to make sure I’m remembering those lessons. I’d gladly go more often once again to make sure we’re on the right track. Until we’re ready to all be open, though, just know, as always, that I’m here and waiting patiently and little will change that.
I do like a woman who subscribes to quality publications. After all, if you know quality in journalism, surely that translates into other areas in life ;). But more seriously, I do admire your wish to prevent the next Dark Lord or Lady from rising to power from the get go, or even just a terribly skewed law that might lead down that path. Putting your time and money where your mouth is honestly is truly a rare thing. Merlin, the amount of politicians I come across that are just “we’d do something if only our hands weren’t tied.” I want to roll my eyes until they roll out of my head. They’re the ones who control if they can do something about it or not ninety-nine percent of time, they just want to look as if they care. Can we go back to the fact that I certainly need to punch someone in the future? Because this certainly leads into that I think. It does, however, get better when I think of just how many books must be in your library for that library date for you to have one of the biggest ones in Britain. And the fact that you’ve read half of them, Godric I might need to fan myself. Nothing is more attractive than a witch with a book, trust me I’m the Minister of Magic and a good authority on these things.
Trust me, Draco wasn’t quiet about it even at school, though he never did tell any of the professors. Snape didn’t like me, but I think even he would have cracked the tiniest bit of a smile at Draco whining about being punched by a girl. Never mind that that sentiment is a bit sexist, I still would have loved to have seen his face as he told Draco to get over it. Ah well, didn’t happen so I can’t even ask him what it was like, also I fear if I did ask him it would lead to me being banned from dinner for a month and he really is a good cook, so I’ll refrain. Of course Harry would invite me the next week anyway, but even one decent meal is too much to miss. That and I genuinely don’t like to make him grumpy because he is a good friend, but he doesn’t need to know that. And trust me, I know exactly where his dramatics come from. Lucius with all that hair during a war? The man was nothing short of a drama queen too. I didn’t quite understand that a hair flip could be intimidating until I saw him. Though now as an adult? I think I would still just laugh. So impractical. I could grab onto it and render him immobile rather easily. I swear wizards sometimes forget that physical fighting exists. Of course I think my younger self would have tried to patronize a man who was old enough to be my father on war time tactics, but patronizing was exactly what I was from about the age of six well into my late teens before I knew any better. Teenagers. Oi, am I right.
Now I really want both peach and mincemeat pie. I’ve just had dinner so it’s right in the right time for dessert. I have scones, but that isn’t exactly the dessert I want. I’ve done one good job at baking today, though, I don’t want to push my luck. That, and I don’t have recipe that Bellatrix wrote me for anything besides scones. For whatever reason following her snarky directions worked better than something off of the Food Network, Merlin only begins to know why. Perhaps I’ll get her to hand over a recipe for mincemeat pie since we aren’t yet into peach season yet. Then I’ll have plenty of time to get it just right for whenever we do meet and that way I can woo you with my cooking. I admit I’m laughing right now because I’m assuming Bellatrix would appear at some point and take credit for it, which she wouldn’t be wholly wrong about so I suppose I would certainly let it slide. Hell, for her it might even be flirting, stranger things have happened.
Not sure how I feel about you being a bookie, though I do support taking galleons from the rich and donating them, so I guess I might let it slide. I’m just imaging now how insufferable Bellatrix would be towards them when they lost, and you know what that might be worth it, especially if they’re members of the Wizengamot. No, I don’t have a grudge against those wankers, why do you ask? And all you Slytherins certainly are drama queens in your own way, thank you very much. Just ask anyone from another house and I’m sure they’ll tell you. Devious and clever you all may be on top of that, but when things don’t go to plan? Absolute divas, the lot of you. Not that Gryffindors aren’t the same way, I’ll give you that, but still. I have a point here and you know it.
For your promise of honesty I’ll make one in return, though I think you’ll say I didn’t need to being my righteous Gryffindor self, but I certainly think I do. I am a politician after all. I promise to be honest with you. I feel as if we’ve all made mistakes thinking one single thing will give us all we need to survive. Knowing where those mistakes are and knowing how to go about everything not to repeat them is far more important, really, than never making them at all. Without mistakes life wouldn’t be interesting, but more importantly we wouldn’t actually learn anything. Where would we be if you hadn’t grown and learned that your family’s ideals were wrong, and where would be be if I hadn’t learned that things aren’t so black and white as good and evil. All I wish for this to be really, is something that will strengthen all of us, that will make us our best selves, even if that isn’t necessarily in a romantic relationship. We’ll learn and grow from this too. I think we already have in some ways, truly. What more can we ask for than that?
When I tapped the letter to reveal the notes you had on your problem, the wave of calm that enveloped me was...I’d never felt so relaxed before. Is that what you feel after getting a letter from me? Truly? I know I am trying my best of course, I want to do right by all of you, and of course I will fight and try, and I hoped it was giving you hope as well, just how much I do want this, but that much? Even I’m a bit amazed. I was so relaxed I laid down and went right to sleep for a very satisfying nap until I woke up hungry for dinner. I don’t feel special enough almost any day to merit all this trust and awe. I’m just a person doing her best, truly. Though I won’t apologize for making you into more of an optimist. There’s no harm in seeing the silver lining in all of this, in hoping. We’re in an era now where we should hope. Recovering after a time of strife should be a time to reinvent things, to make things new, to want things we wouldn’t have wanted before. I’m no more a miracle than you are. What would any of this be without you and me and Bellatrix and your sister? Miracles are just a confluence of people doing the right thing at the right time and a little bit of luck. We deserve luck. We deserve peace. We deserve afternoon naps with all of us in the room on a lazy Sunday. I don’t need to have seer genes to see that it’ll happen. I just need the continued assurance that everyone will continue to work for it and since you’ve all given me that in one way or another, well, I’m as certain as I need to be. One day we will have that. Plain and simple.
My day of reading beyond the nap has been good! Informative, really. I see a few different sections that I’ve tabbed, the one about brothers sharing a wife or a husband having two sisters for wives seems most applicable as of the moment. Of course that doesn’t quite fit considering that gets into primary and secondary statuses and that just seems like not the objective that we have, but interesting nonetheless. I think elements more from a pureblood couple bringing in a half-blood bastard from another family are more to the point, but yes, we’re certainly going to have to mix and match rituals and bondings to get at what we might want. Well. If all of us want that of course. I admit I certainly have thought of marriage more than a time or two, if only in flights of fancy, as a great many women do, but my flights of fancy mean nothing over everyone’s comfort. It is interesting that my birth certificate and all my documents would automatically update with the influence of magic, though. I didn’t know that was anything more than a one off side effect from so thoroughly erasing myself from my parents’ memories to protect them. It didn’t appear back when I restored their memories so I thought my guess was right. Also yes, my middle name is Jean, after a favored aunt of my mother’s who passed away right before I was born. Not exactly a glamorous name, but I don’t mind the meaning so I’ve never minded my middle name like some people do. Goodness knows how complicated the paperwork would be for me to change it considering my documents are still blank...I don’t even want to know, you sister is right regularly it is a pain, but now? No, thankfully I don’t need to do that to myself. At least until perhaps we all change our names to something better in the future indeed.
Mmmm, you just have to make sense, don’t you? You’re right that wouldn’t look good for the Minister of Magic to punch an inmate, even if he’s done some rather punchable things. It very much wouldn’t go with my prison rehabilitation initiatives. Ah, morals, damn it, sometimes they just block all the fun. Better that than a spine made out of an eclair, though, so, there is that. But after I get out of office, perhaps a few years after...well if we still remember that idiot, I’ll make sure to tell Anathema before I visit and punch him in what I’m sure is a very punchable looking jaw. Goodness knows that the self-defense classes I’ve taken have to be used for something after all. Perhaps if you’re still interested in being a bookie, at least between the two of us, I give Anathema until Tuesday before she figures it out. She needs the offices to be open on Monday, but I think she won’t need much longer than that. She’s been on the Ministry’s radar since her third husband died and watching her schemes unfold via the DMLE gossip has been rather enlightening. A clever witch that one, perhaps a bit too murderous for my tastes, as you said, but I do admire her sheer will of wanting to get things done and then accomplishing it. Perhaps in another life even I might have loved her. But I certainly also have to say that I’m glad in this universe that it’s you and I and the others instead.
I admit I’m not immune to bribery, at least in my personal life, and old rare first editions, well, for those I would indeed be very, very tempted to forget any indiscretions. At least as long as the underlying issues were fixed of course. Can’t have problems fester, now can we? As for the bribery of public officials, perhaps not as of yet. I have been handling them well enough even without that, and legally at that. That isn’t to say I wouldn’t consider it if need be but
Speaking of practical matters and possessed doll stares, one, before I ramble, I’m even more excited to see your library and have a nice time reading the day away with my tea, it really does sound like a wonderful day for us all in the future just curled up together, but two, I’ve looked over your notes on the spells you’re trying to break and I’ve made progress, but now I’m a bit stuck on the next step myself. I’ve attached the solution I have so far before to the string of magic that kills muggleborns and half-bloods. I think what’s written will stop the killing of half-bloods based on the fact that they still have sacred twenty-eight DNA in their veins that the spell should recognize, but of course that can’t be done with muggleborns, but it’s certainly a step to make it less dangerous in the long run. I’m going to look over the rest of the solution you have so far over with tomorrow, I just wanted to make sure that I had something to send back to you today to perhaps suitably impress you with my vast array of knowledge. Please do roll your eyes here and know that I’m even rolling my eyes at myself. It’s fine, really. I’m not gay or anything, no, what would ever make you think that?
As for a mini-book club between the two of us? Yes. Yes. Please and thank you kindly, that’s the best idea anyone’s had today anywhere in the world, I’m sure of it. Especially if you’re going to send me an old rare arithmancy book. I may or may not be making grabby hand motions at the page right now. That’s the beauty of letters. I can’t look like a total fool while writing because you can’t see me. Miracle form of communication this.
Yours,
Hermione
Hermione rolled up the letter with her solution and charmed it closed with a bit of magic to warm the person opening it, tucking the bauble inside. She stood and stretched, hearing a satisfying pop. Before walking over to Wilhelmina who was just waking up for the evening.
“Hi there,” she said, scratching her head gently. “Did you sleep well?”
The owl hooted gently and leaned into her touch.
“I have a letter for the usual place probably. And uh…” she realized that the normal barn owl hadn’t delivered the letter from her first soulmate this time. “Oh, I’ll have another one in maybe an hour? For the place where you got the letters you just delivered from. I uh, don’t know where that was, so I can’t really tell you where to go, so I hope you know.”
Wilhelmina hooted confidently and ruffled her feathers, sticking out her foot for the letter she was holding now. Hermione tied it on and opened the window and she flew off into the night once again. She watched her for a moment and sighed. So they all knew each other. And they were fine with that. Two of them were sisters. And she still had the vague feeling that she knew the first one from somewhere, but her brain hadn’t spit out where yet and forcing it didn’t seem to be working. She ran her hand through her hair and huffed. This wasn’t getting her anywhere, she should just reply to the last letter and maybe she could figure it out then. She had promised that she wouldn’t look into it with official channels. That didn’t mean that she couldn’t use her brain. She was insatiably curious, after all. That was a defining trait of hers, no soulmate of hers should be surprised if she figured it out before they told her. Though...should she tell them that? Maybe not immediately. It didn’t seem like something that would go over well at the start. Everything was so fragile as of now with the relationship with her first soulmate and Bellatrix. She didn’t want to do anything to damage that further, especially since they were making an effort to sort it out. She sighed again, even deeper this time. She liked her soulmates, could see it developing into something more, even with Bellatrix if she thought about it long and hard enough. Some people might want simple and comfortable but she was Hermione Granger. She rather should have expected something a bit more complicated. It felt...more than worth it, to get to the end, but right now, standing in the window of her apartment, watching her owl fly off? It was nerve wracking and a little lonely. Not that she’d tell her soulmates that. But, well, allowing herself to feel was healthy.
She turned back into her apartment, warm and still smelling of the hint of baked goods from the scones earlier and the book half read on her couch, still open to near the end where she’d been when the letters had appeared, an ancient pleasant musty smell rising up from its pages, with the letter from her first soulmate on the coffee table. Little hints that she wasn’t as alone as all that. She just had to keep reminding herself, of course.
She sat down again, picked up her pen and a piece of paper and looked at the neat, familiar penmanship. She traced along its edges and pursed her lips. It would come to her. Really it would.
But she put pen to paper instead of thinking more on it.
Dear A,
I wouldn’t dare dream of asking you for more than you’re ready for. This all has been a bit topsy turvy. Bellatrix I think just brings that into everything. Though now all three of you are surprising me left and right. Two of you are sisters. You were at brunch together when my letter came. What, exactly, are the odds. I think both you and your sister were very surprised about each other, but less so about Bellatrix, if that makes sense. I suppose there is a reason for it that I’ll understand later, but later is good enough for me. I’m glad you want to adjust. I’m glad you want the best for your sister. She wants the same for you. I can sense the love between the two of you even through paper and ink. One of my dearest wishes is for all three of you to get along, I may even said as such to you before, but I do understand it is hard. Just know that while in the larger picture it is a sort of sharing, there will still be time planned out that is wholly ours alone. I know that’s very very important for getting multiple relationships together. Whatever I have with you will not be the same as what it is with the others. None of them certainly charm the paper to feel as if you’re holding my hand through it or making my nerves feel bathed in sunlight. You are wholly special because of your individuality. I appreciate everything you are giving up that you thought might be in a future relationship for yourself for the reality of what this is. I know it must be difficult, I know it must be confusing in some ways, but the warmth you’ve brought into my life in such a short amount of time is nothing short of astounding. You feel so familiar to me already, like a comfortable sweater on a cold day and also a sizzle of excitement before the roller coaster drops over that first hill. It may be a little lonely to wait, I won’t lie to you, but I feel with unflinching certainty that it will be worth it . So I’ll wait for as long as needed. Just know this.
I love the thought of you and your husband in Diagon checking out witches together. It’s such a cute image. I do wonder if we’ll have the same taste and will be able to do the same. As I’ve said I tend towards older witches, but a stunning woman is a stunning woman no matter the age, really. I’m afraid my own realization story is a bit less cute. I dated a boy I was best friends with first and it went rather horribly. Like I’m not being facetious and exaggerating. It was terrible . I could just never...we were never on the same wavelength and any time he would try to hold my hand I just felt entirely unready for such a thing even though it was just hand holding, Merlin forbid anything more, I shuddered at the thought. It took a few months to figure out just why I was reacting that way until I finally clicked. In every other story he would have been the happily ever after when the war ended. Everyone expected it of me. And I certainly couldn’t. Have you seen women? Who could really blame me. I’m sure my mouth will be hanging open when I see you for the first time. Do close it for me so I don’t catch flies, hmm?
Here Hermione enchanted the paper to mimic just the brush of lips on a cheek, right at the corner of her mouth, a hint, a suggestion, a wanting . She licked her own lips and squirmed a bit in her seat. Hopefully that would go over well.
I’m willing to risk the wrath of a restaurant to taste your baking. What will they do to me, golden girl of the wizarding world, really? I don’t usually use the fame, but I would use it for that, bet on it. It might be more prudent to wait until later, but a perfect meal ends with dessert does it not? We certainly can do the stroll later along with that pledge of loyalty I’ll certainly owe you. As for my own baked goods, well, I just got a handy upgrade in baking ability courtesy of Bellatrix actually. She handed over a recipe for scones that somehow taste almost as good as the one’s she sent me, which is to say hers are amazing and mine are very, very good. I don’t know if my brain just understood the instructions in snarky comments better or if the recipe itself was just a better calibre than I normally use from whatever food blog happens to come up first on search. I suppose I should try again with a different recipe for scones and see what happens. I know the basic process now so in theory it should be a decent test. If that doesn’t work I suppose getting another harder recipe from Bellatrix might work. If that works, well, then I’ll have overcome some of those obstacles you spoke of, but I’m certainly not against a little more motivation if you’d like to provide it. Your last magical encouragement certainly didn’t hurt.
I wish my potions knowledge was skilled enough that I could help you. Of course I’m more than passable, but I’m certainly not a master of any sort. Messing with potion formulations is very highly skilled work that I certainly wouldn’t want to mess with on my own, especially in a formulation for medical use. What you’ve said so far seems to be a very interesting starting point, and I’m definitely always up to being a sounding board if you need it. As for the wait, well, I don’t seem to be doing entirely too well on the self-control front with an apartment full of scones. I’ll have to take some in to work tomorrow. My secretary will appreciate them. I haven’t burnt holes in my carpet just yet but I’m sure Margarithe thinks I might just any day now. Never mind that that woman works just as hard as I do, just with less flitting as you said. Perhaps I should take her a slice of that cake after our future date. She has a weak spot for chocolate too. Bribing her with chocolate so you can always see me is never a bad idea after all. I’ll always want to see you, so…
I have to tell you that I blushed horribly at the last line about taking sugar away from me. Was that an innuendo, dear A? Perhaps I should just move on and reply to your other points of that paragraph about children having hollow legs, even my parents said that about me at one point and I wasn’t nearly as bad as the boys ever were. Though they never had another child to compare me to so I suppose they could be forgiven for thinking so. Or should I address the fear over the larder and just how cute it is that you want your son to be healthy while also being a mostly fun parent. Or perhaps just how much it pleases me every time you compliment me. Or even still dive into questions about wards against the underage magic ban and all the questions I have about that. But mostly I still go back to that last line in-between all of the other thoughts. Especially after that entreatment of me not dying of gay until you can see it in person. Now that’s just so very cruel. I’m glad that you can bring me back, but that doesn’t help my blushing predicament now. Too much blood is pooled in my cheeks for me to possibly survive I think. I suppose if I finish this letter you’ll know I lived, but know it was only by a hairsbreadth.
But now my question is just what coworkers have told you that you’re a MILF, I mean they most assuredly aren’t wrong, never mind that we haven’t met face to face, I know I’m right, my question still stands. Not for any reason, of course, I’m just curious. Because obviously you’ve already said no to them and I have nothing to be jealous of, which I very much am not. Perhaps I should just scratch this all out. Looking at it now I find I’m blushing for an entirely different reason, but I suppose I’ll leave it here if only for your amusem*nt? I can only hope that the person who had to explain what a MILF was to you was more embarrassed than I am now. That seems like a decent outcome for all of this. Muggle librarians have their own magic, I swear. They can sense just what you need and they love spreading knowledge. Every time I end up in a library and they see me coming with...well, a rather large stack of books, they just smile and somehow pull out three more books from behind the counter that are even better than the ones I picked out. I first used computers at a library when I was younger. One of the bigger ones around my house growing up had a few, some of the old clunky late eighties/early nineties models. They didn’t have internet at the time, but they had games and I was certainly down for that. Later, on breaks from Hogwarts they introduced me to the internet in the same way, but there was certainly less of a how to at that point. I just clicked around a bit and figured my way out from there after the very basics. I’ve seen the new way they teach maths now, actually, my nibling showed me when I helped him with his homework on a few occasions. It took me a bit to figure it out myself, as well, but I do see the genius of it. I do have to wonder if it will work the way they say it will later in their maths career, but I’ll have to look into the research. As far as the rest of wizarding-kind, well, some of society still wears corsets as a matter of course. I think it might be a while before they get on board and then they’ll have to figure out how to adapt technology to magic. I think it will be wonderful when they do and I hope I get to see it, but I’m not entirely sure I will, except for on the fringes and within the muggleborn sections of the community. The wizarding world, for all its wonders, is ever so slow to change. And I thought muggle society was bad, but they’re moving at practically light speed comparatively.
Hermione scowled. She’d been challenged to prove that arithmancy could reach through the page and hold her hand, just as A’s letter had held hers. Well, she could certainly do that. She set down her quill and played around for twenty or so minutes, in which time Wilhelmina came flapping back in, landing on her desk, looking down at the half-written letter then up at her in askance.
“Another bit, then it’ll be ready and you can pick up dinner while you’re out on your way back if you want.”
The bird hooted and flew back to her perch and settled in to wait.
When she stumbled upon the right combination of bits of spells to accomplish what she wanted, she jumped and dropped the paper she’d been practicing on, same as before. It was a good feeling, but still very surprising, even if this was exactly what she’d meant to do. Paper hadn’t exactly ever held her hand before this, so she thought she could be excused. She cast the spell on her letter and smiled as it settled into the grains of the parchment just below where she’d written.
Well, I’ve also proven you can do it with arithmancy with the right motivation. I hope said hand holding brings you the same warmth it brought me. It truly is nothing to be kind to you. You’ve been nothing but sweet with me as well. How could I not return the sentiment? The more letters we exchange the more conviction I have. I’m sure if you ask my friends they’ll say I always have conviction, of course, but that isn’t always true. Gryffindor bravado and all that. But one could easily see why in this situation conviction that all will work out might not be the forgone conclusion, but you make it so.
I’ll keep your offer to spam a few key people in my back pocket for now. It truly might just come in handy. Politicians...well, most of them are about as bad as people think, but there are a core of decent ones and I think that’s certainly why government hasn’t blown up over the years. I try to work mostly with them, but unfortunately a great many of the more unsavory ones are the ones that hold some key component that I need to accomplish my schemes for a better world. That does mean that some days I’d rather join you on that broom to the moon, but once you learn how to handle people correctly it’s easy enough to get what you want from anyone. Quite frankly I’m not sure I’d actually have the patience you have to have in order to explain to people just why they ended up in the hospital and how to make sure it doesn’t happen in the future. I think the know it all tendencies would be absolutely wrong for that, and they seem to really rear their head the second I’m explaining just how stupid someone is...so perhaps we certainly ended up in the right careers for both of us.
I’m glad you’re on board for the professor intimidation plot. Always lovely to have help. Because you’re certainly right, if anyone is ever mean to your child I’m sure they’re not exactly being a ray of sunshine to my nibling or half the other students most likely. And I surely wouldn’t be able to stand that since he is the sweetest boy I’ve ever met and no child should be bullied by an adult of all people. Merlin forbid a twelve year old act a bit goofy in class. Snape would have strung him up. Anyway, no, I certainly held no love for the man, I think only Slytherin kiss asses did, really, since he obviously favored them. I don’t think it was worth it, really. Like yes he was a spy and that was crucial in a great many ways, but I could think of a dozen different ways Dumbledore could have kept him close other than actually teaching. I thought perhaps once I got older I might understand the moves that man made to win the war, but I still don’t. He had options, even if they were not the best, that I think would have done much more in the long run, but he chose the most obvious ones. I...I have to take deep breaths thinking about him instead of Snape because of just how much he mistreated Harry, even if Harry never realized it. The way he mistreated Ron and I as well considering we tagged along for the ride with Harry and he used that fact. I just have more than a bit of pent up anger at that man that even years of therapy hasn’t quelled, nor do I think it should, really. The end justify the means shouldn’t apply to children fighting a war. Ever.
Yes, Seamus was a bit of an outlier, but that ended up being handy later during the Battle of Hogwarts, so I suppose he can be given a pass. The rat cup still needs to burn in a fire though. Good to know your child will take care of his wand and prevent it from existing, or at least have a new wand before it becomes an issue. I suppose being a muggleborn I rather obsessively took care of my wand, even back then. I always knew where it was, went out of my way to make sure nothing ever hurt it, things of that sort. I still do take care of it more than an average witch. There’s just something soothing about polishing a wand and letting your mind wander while you’re doing it. It’s just that a wand symbolizes so much to me, a world that opened up to me, magic, things I never dreamed to be true growing up, but a world that I fit into nonetheless. Couldn’t exactly lose a wand when you thought of things in such a manner. I did lose it for a while in the war, but it made its way back to me afterwards, thankfully. I missed it. Using Bellatrix’s for a long while was...at the time it was a bit unsettling how well it worked for me, considering I used it against her and it still worked, but I suppose that makes more sense now. But I still like my own vine wood and dragon heart string much better thank you.
I assure you I don’t think Bellatrix’s flirting now has really improved, morphed into something different, yes, but fundamentally changed its basis? No, certainly not. Yet the teasing just makes me want to get to her that much more, so I suppose it might actually be working? Oi, stranger things have happened I suppose. And the crude innuendos? Well, I suppose once you’ve grown up with Fred and George Weasley, they sort of lose effectiveness. Though I’m sure they might just be right in some ways. Goodness knows if they aren’t right yet when she opens her mouth we’ll just have to make them a reality as soon as possible, hm?
Yours,
Hermione
She pushed herself up to Wilhelmina perch and tied the letter on. “You really know where you’re going?”
She swore if an owl could move their eyes, Wilhelmina would have rolled hers. She just made sure the letter was secure before taking off again. Well. She supposed that was answer enough. The bird never had let her down before, so she supposed she wasn’t about to do so now. She yawned. Her Sunday was rapidly drawing to a close. She should probably start getting ready for bed now that all her correspondence was done for the day. But she looked over at her couch and her book and took into account the fact that she’d taken a nap today and wandered back to her place there and picked up the old tome. Another chapter wouldn’t hurt, surely.
Which is how Andy found her an hour and a half later, curled up on her couch reading, only a chapter or two from finishing, and at that point she really should to press on and finish, right? But she looked up and blinked at the woman walking through her floo in front of her, brushing ash off her robes, looking tired and a little bit frazzled. Hermione grabbed her wand and summoned a glass and fire whiskey, it looked like the older witch might need it.
“Andy?” she asked, pouring a couple fingers of liquid and handing over the glass.
Andy accepted it gratefully and knocked it back with as much grace as the action could hold. Sometimes good breeding really did hold true in the strangest of ways. Hermione watched as her throat bobbed swallowing the liquid and had to blink and pull herself back to her right mind. Right. Not one of her soulmates. Probably? She could be? It was just as likely as anyone else who knew Bellatrix. She would have thought Andy would have told her by now, especially since all her soul mates knew who she was as of this last batch of letters. Or would she...with Bellatrix in the mix, it could be complicated for her.
She shook herself again. She was letting her mind wander away with her and right now Andy needed her here and present.
The older witch flopped down in one of the overstuffed arm chairs across from the couch. “Sorry to just barge in like this, especially at this hour, but I’m afraid I have a rather urgent favor to ask and I’ve spent the intervening time running through all my other options.”
Hermione sat straighter, gripping her wand tightly. Of course she’d do anything for this woman. Even if it was illegal. She was smart enough to avoid any charges, unlike many a Minister of Magic before her.
“What do you need?”
Andy looked at the grip on her wand and snorted out a laugh. “Nothing like that, dear heart.” She relaxed a bit as the alcohol took effect. “I apologize for the bit of melodrama, I suppose it’s just rubbed off from seeing Narcissa today.” A hand ran through her curls, mussing them even further to the point she almost looked like Bellatrix right after she’d gotten out of Azkaban the first time. She never usually let her hair get so wild since that only made the comparisons to Bellatrix even more frequent, but she obviously had something more important going on in the background today. “It’s just been a rather draining day, and I don’t think that tomorrow will be much different.” She looked at the decanter of whiskey for a moment, considering, before putting her glass down. Teddy was old enough to take care of himself for the most part, but getting the boy up in the morning was tantamount to making the centaurs actually trust wizard kind. Not impossible, but so difficult it might as well be, really. She wouldn’t get drunk enough that she’d have a hard time waking in the morning on a Sunday night.
“What’s tomorrow? Can I help?” She closed the book that had been lying on her lap abandoned and sat forward.
“That does lead nicely into why I came. I know you’re terribly busy, but could you babysit Teddy for a few hours tomorrow evening? I have…” she trailed off looking a bit pained. “Narcissa has talked me into seeing Bellatrix again, rather more consistently than before. I’m still not sure if it’s a good idea but.” Another hand through her hair, leaving it even wilder. Hermione had the urge to reach out and braid her hair back for her so it wouldn’t be so riotous in the morning that’d she have to spend extra time taming it when she was already under so much stress.
“Are you ready for that?” Hermione asked. She’d suggested as much, hinted and nudged. It was obvious that while Andy had rightful grievances against her sister, she also still held some love for the woman. The conflict between them wouldn’t be so emotionally intensive if she didn’t. She’d crowed in delight, secretly of course there was no faster way to get a Slytherin not to do something as rub their choices in their face, when Andy had agreed to start visiting Bellatrix on the holidays.
Andy’s eyes bored into Hermione’s for a long moment. She had no idea why the woman was looking at her like that, but it sent her heart into her throat and her pulse racing. Just what was that look?
“No, I don’t think so really, but the motivation towards doing it is enough I think.” She cleared her throat before Hermione could ask just what that motivation was. “So can you? I know Mondays are usually not great for you work-wise since Sunday seems to spawn all sorts of dragons.”
Hermione summoned her planner and looked down at it. There were a few meetings she had in the evening after business hours, but nothing that couldn’t be moved around easily enough. No one she was meeting was high up and were generally lucky they’d scored an audience with her in the first place. She waved her wand and slotted in all those meetings to later in in the week. Her changes would update Margarithe’s calendar and she’d send out the change of time notices to the people for her in the morning.
“I’m free after five now, will that work?” She glanced up at Andy with a raised eyebrow, a habit she’d picked up from the other woman.
“Yes, that’s perfect.” Andy relaxed even further into the chair and sighed. “It’s been a roller coaster of a week.”
“That I can certainly agree with. Want to tell me about it? I have scones and I can make a pot of tea for us.”
“Lady Grey?” Andy’s eyes were hopeful.
“You know I always keep some on hand for your visits.” She stood and shuffled to the kitchen, floating the plate of scones she’d made earlier to the coffee table while she puttered around getting the kettle set to boiling and doling out tea leaves. “Now, start from the beginning, I’m all ears.”
“Well it really started last Sunday evening with Teddy sneezing and remodeling the house. I swear, that boy mostly has everything under control as far as magic goes, but the sneezes somehow just get past all that.”
Hermione finished with the tea preparations, floating the tray back into the living room, and pouring them both a mug, before curling up to listen to her friend who certainly needed an ear to listen.
