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So close to the top, the cold wind cutting through her thin, white shirt. She shivered ever so slightly, her grip on the cold, chain link fence not helping to warm her up at all. If only the hospital had made clothes that actually kept people warm in the winter, or cool in the summer for that matter.
But it didn’t matter any longer. Her soft brown eyes, tired, worn beyond all reason. They couldn’t stop but admire the cold, orange dusk, the blue amassing in the sky above. The stars crawling out from their heavenly abodes…
And the passing lights of those automobiles below.
Her breath hitched as she ascended another several links, her shaking, cracked hands so close to the top. Once she heaved over, it would all be over. The roar of the engines below would be her swansong, the fenders of aluminum the pallbearers of a life well wasted.
Just so close… just had to keep it all down…
But when those slender, strong arms made their way around her knees, she couldn’t help but let out a sob of frustration. Her throat already so dry, it came out more like the screech of a dying animal.
Not that she wasn’t one, of course…
“Sightseeing, pet?” a voice asked, almost sounding amused.
Hermione Granger couldn’t help but let the tears begin to slowly slide down her face. She bit her lip, tasting that dry, flaky skin and ripping it asunder. It gave way to blood, the copper all too familiar to her taste…
“Or maybe just trying to get away?” the voice behind sounded again. If Hermione had to guess, it was an older woman. Thankfully not one of the hospital staff, and hopefully not a cop.
Though those strong arms could suggest otherwise…
“You could say that…” Hermione found herself answering, her hoarse voice quivering. She took in a deep breath, trying to control herself as she let her face softly bump against the chain links, cold metal mocking yet another failed attempt to end it all.
With all the times she had failed now, even hell itself seemed it would never have her…
“I don’t think I need to say it, pet. I can see it quite well…” the voice replied, concern quite evident in its tone. Hermione only wondered why, why the hell life just wouldn’t let her go. First she fucks up in her dorm, next she fucks up in the hospital.
Now a fucking stranger gets thrown her way, and life has to go the fuck on. Maybe she could yank free if she really tried…
“Tell you what, pet? You tell me why you’re really out here, and I’ll let you go.” the voice said.
Hermione raised her eyes, the passing lights once again mesmerizing her as they zoomed by like metal fireflies. She sighed, the taste of blood, the cold sting of the air in her lungs like companions against the unknown. Why was this woman calling her pet? Why was she practically toying with her, given the gravity of the situation? She supposed there really was no point in denying it, this woman seemed to know the truth.
“And how do I know you’ll let me go?” Hermione asked. Even though she refused to turn to face the figure holding onto her legs, she practically could feel the smile from the figure’s face.
And it felt just as warm as the grip around her legs…
“I’m a woman of my word. Trust me when I say I’ve been here too, trying to escape…”
The words hung in the frigid air as Hermione took another deep breath, letting one arm leave the fence to wipe the tears from her pale face.
She had wanted this to be an emotionless release, a final comfort before the gratifying end. But here she was, a victim once more under the reign of sadness.
Like the woman, it just wouldn’t let go.
“I’m here…” Hermione began, but she hesitated. Her throat clenched up as she felt her emotions well within her, churning like the acid in her stomach. She took another deep breath, trying to reach for the words that seemed so close, yet so out of reach…
“I’m here to…”
But a whimper escaped her lips, and she almost broke down there. She bit her lip once more, copper kissing her taste buds before she raised her head back, trying to drown it all out.
It was two simple words.
The truth, and that was it.
“So go ahead and admit it.”
“… kill yourself.” the voice replied. It wasn’t inquisitive, like a guess in how her sentence would end.
It wasn’t even an affirmation. It was a statement of the facts.
“Yes.” was all Hermione could muster, another wave of tears silently falling down her face. She whimpered lightly, bringing that same arm down to bite on her sleeve and hold back any deluge of sadness that might break forth in front of this stranger. The rotten, almost moldy, taste of her sleeve made her slightly gag, but it distracted her from the tears.
Hermione was so distracted that she almost didn’t notice that the stranger had let go of her legs. Her soft brown eyes went wide, and her arm returned to the cold metal in front of it.
She just had to climb a few more links…
But she didn’t. And she knew exactly why…
“Curious to stick around a little longer, pet? Thought you came out here for a reason.” the woman asked, though her voice didn’t seem like it was mocking her. It almost seemed surprised that she didn’t immediately climb over the top and greet death with open arms.
Hermione almost smiled, seemingly humored by the fact that she could still surprise some people…
“Maybe. I think I want to see who wanted to keep me here for a few minutes longer.” Hermione replied, and slowly but surely, she moved her arms and legs downward. The cheap, rubbery flip flops squeaked as she made her way down, the flesh of her cold feet rubbing against them uncomfortably. But surely as she had made her way up, she was now back down, her flip flops greeting the cold stone beneath. The lights below almost seemed to wave her goodbye as she slowly turned around, her tear-stained eyes betraying every inch of sadness that infected her.
Before her was, as she correctly guessed, an older woman, probably in her mid to late 40s. Her pale skin was not unlike Hermione’s, and within each curve on her face there was a warmth that seemed to envelop the younger woman. Her wild obsidian mane was tied back in a ponytail, though some strands trailed down her face. Hermione’s eyes wandered down the woman’s figure, finding that beneath the heavy black jacket and baggy sweatpants, she was clearly fit. Amidst all the misery that drowned her, Hermione couldn’t help but feel a little attracted to her.
Depression really did bring out the strangest emotions in all people…
The older woman gave a small smile, her red lips like traces of ruby.
“Satisfied, pet?” the older woman asked.
Hermione didn’t really quite know how to reply, just to stare for a moment before she felt herself begin to speak.
“Why do you keep calling me pet? I have a name.” the younger woman said, trying to sound somewhat annoyed. Truth be told, she very much was annoyed that this older woman had interrupted what had taken months to plan and a lot of stress to deal with.
But another part of Hermione felt almost… appreciative of being given a cute nickname.
No one, save her mother, had ever given her a cute nickname…
“You most likely do. And so do I. But I think it fits you, pet. I hope you don’t mind if I do call you that from now on…” the older woman said, chuckling lightly.
Hermione huffed, though she felt her heart warm a little towards this woman.
This stranger who had for some reason stopped her…
“Well, if you’re going to call me that, can I at least know your name?” Hermione asked. The woman’s smile grew a little wider.
“Bellatrix Black, at your service, pet.” the older woman said, bowing in a mocking grace. Hermione let a small smile creep on her face before she forced it back down. Bellatrix seemed to notice as she chuckled once more.
“Though I’m not sure you’d care to know, pet. You don’t have much longer, right?”
For whatever reason, the question seemed biting, like an insult. Yet there seemed to be a sort of… pleading within it. Hermione wasn’t the best at reading people, but while this woman seemed to be taking this situation somewhat lightly, she did seem to care.
And Hermione was thankful she wasn’t freaking out like Ginny or the hospital staff whenever she did something like this.
“I guess not.” Hermione sighed, turning back around to face the fence. Down below, the cars continued rushing by, the darkness of the night now bringing out the full beauty of their passing lights. She felt that pull once more, the pull to start climbing again, just to end this farce once and for all.
But she hadn’t. And while part of her screamed bloody murder to finally end it, the other part was still curious of Bellatrix.
“Care to join me on the ride home, pet? I can bring you back if you want, but I really don’t want to see you go.” Bellatrix said from behind her, her voice betraying her concern. It’s not like she needed to hide it, of course. Hermione knew this woman was concerned for her, but she didn’t exactly know why.
Going home with her might reveal those answers, but it could also be a trap. For all the younger woman knew, this older woman might just call the police and have her carted off back to St. Mungo’s.
And she’d never get another chance at this again…
Still, there was something telling Hermione to go with this older woman. This alluring, mesmerizing woman…
But what was it?
“You should know I am an escaped mental patient…” Hermione began, turning back around to face the older woman. Bellatrix, however, cut her off with a smile.
“… from that hospital over in Burrow County, I know. I saw the van in the parking lot.” Bellatrix finished. Hermione sighed, crossing her arms across her chest. The cold breeze in the air was finally starting to get to her, the adrenaline at being on top of the fence wearing out of her quite quickly.
Seemed this woman didn’t care about the circumstances.
“Then why do you want me to accompany you home? The smartest thing to do would be to call the authorities.” Hermione said, staring into the deep oceans of her dark brown eyes. Hermione may have just met this woman, but already she wanted to drown in them.
That’d probably be a much better way to go than plummeting down onto the highway and being crushed by several tons of steel rushing at 70-75 miles an hour.
“It very well might. But I don’t think that’s what you need. Clearly they haven’t helped you before. What would getting them now do for you?” Bellatrix asked, raising one of her eyebrows.
Hermione furrowed her brow. How was this woman justifying all this? Hermione wasn’t too familiar with the legal side of taking in escaped mental ward patients, but clearly Bellatrix could face jail time should she fail to deliver Hermione back to the authorities. Yet she didn’t seem to care.
And that… made Hermione all the more curious as to the nature of Bellatrix Black.
“Nothing, they would do nothing for me.” Hermione said. Bellatrix smiled a little wider.
“So, I guess I’ll take you up on your offer. What’s the worst you can do to me?” Hermione asked jokingly. She laughed a little, and Bellatrix chuckled herself.
“Chop you into pieces and make a stew out of you?” Bellatrix replied, before she descended into a full cackle. Despite the seeming destitute of it all, Hermione couldn’t help but laugh a little too.
Hermione hadn’t laughed in years, but laughter must be contagious after all…
“You’d probably be helping me a lot more than you know by doing that. At least then my death would have some actual sympathy, instead of the average ‘oh she was so sick,’ mentality.” Hermione laughed. Bellatrix let herself grin, despite the morbidity of Hermione’s statement.
“Perhaps so, but I’d have to be a real witch to kill someone as pretty as you.” Bellatrix said, winking at the younger girl. Hermione couldn’t help but blush as the older woman offered her right hand. Hermione took it with her left, the warmth of the older woman a welcome relief to the frigid feeling invading Hermione’s body. It was like having your hands around a bonfire, surrounded by friends and happiness. How one person’s hand could encompass such a feeling, Hermione couldn’t say.
But it was an addiction from contact…
The two women made their way slowly down the path, the sounds of the highway below fading as they started down the small path through the woods back to the parking lot. The walk itself was silent, and both women only kept their eyes forward as the path lights above illuminated their way through the darkness. Around them, only the breeze sang as it whistled through the branches of the dead trees, the fallen leaves swirling in tune. It was almost like some scary movie, a couple retreating from the darkness of the night to somewhere safe.
And Hermione almost wanted it to be so. But those were movies, not real life.
Real life doesn’t have happy endings, and such moments are beyond rare.
But perhaps this was one of those moments…
Hermione held her hand a little tighter to the older woman’s, basking in that warmth that her own thin hospital clothes denied her. She couldn’t see Bellatrix’s face, but she felt like the older woman smiled at the gesture. She felt Bellatrix’s hand tighten around hers, and she sighed in contentment once more.
There was no way this woman would betray her to the authorities. There was something… genuine about her intentions.
Finally, the two arrived in the parking lot, Hermione eyeing the van she had stolen to get here in the first place. Beat up and grey, much like the hospital she had escaped from, it bore in black letters on the side:
SAINT MUNGO’S HOSPITAL
HELPING THOSE IN MOST DESPARATE NEED
SINCE 1880
“Not exactly the most creative hospital, I take it?” Bellatrix asked. Hermione only laughed dryly.
“You should see the food.”
“Based on your clothes, and the van, I don’t think it can get much worse.”
“Try them.” Hermione huffed. Bellatrix only snickered lightly before leading her over to a car parked not too far from the van. It was a Hyundai, if Hermione’s knowledge of car logos was still right, black and fairly compact looking. As they approached, Bellatrix retrieved some keys from her pocket and unlocked the car, the lights flickering in the darkness as a soft “beep, beep” signaled that it was unlocked.
“After you, pet.” Bellatrix said, opening the passenger door for Hermione. Hermione nodded lightly, smiling as she lowered herself into the car. Leaving the grip of Bellatrix’s hand, however, killed that smile almost immediately. The warmth that the older woman had imparted to her blew out like a candle in the wind, and all Hermione wanted was for it to come back.
To save her again…
Bellatrix closed the door as Hermione fully seated herself, making her way around her car. Hermione immediately smelled the delicious scent of sugar cookies, her eyes trailing up to an air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror. On the dash directly in front of her, Hermione eyed a book laying half open. She reached out and grabbed it, closing its cover as her eyes traced over the all-too-familiar title.
“Fancy Moby Dick?” Bellatrix asked as she opened the driver door. She quickly dropped down into the car, slamming her door shut and clicking on her seat belt. That contagious smile had returned to the older woman’s face, and Hermione couldn’t help but smile lightly herself.
“Read it a long time ago. Hadn’t seen a copy since I was in high school…” Hermione said, her mind wandering back to that time…
“I read in high school myself. Had to get a copy of it, of course. I enjoy literature that reads like poetry.” Bellatrix said, slipping her car key into the ignition. The engine hummed to life, and the inside of the car went dark except for the dash controls, which lit up a comfortable green. Bellatrix immediately turned on the car’s heater, and Hermione sighed in relief as the waves of warmth began rolling against her body.
“Sorry I don’t have any spare jackets or sweaters in the car. I’ll get you one when we get home.” Bellatrix said, smiling lightly. Hermione could practically feel her heart melt at the older woman’s gesture. She hadn’t even known the older woman for an hour, and she was taking her out of the cold, giving her warm clothes…
Saving her from herself…
“Well, let’s hit it, pet.” Bellatrix said, throwing the gear into drive and hitting the gas. The car sped out of the parking lot, and Hermione watched as the van disappeared behind them, along with the park she had parked at.
The park she had hoped would be her last stop on Earth, just before the walk to the bridge…
“So, how’d you do it?” Bellatrix asked, looking towards the younger girl. Hermione didn’t immediately answer, but instead let her hand run along the spine of the book.
“I’m sorry?” Hermione asked, turning to the older woman. Bellatrix only laughed lightly.
“How’d you get out? Surely it isn’t easy to get out of a mental ward. I’ve been in one myself, so trust me when I say I know.” Bellatrix said, her eyes turning back towards the road.
Hermione ran her hands through her soft brown hair, exhaling lightly as she thought back to the events of last night.
“Poker night for the guards. They let us roam about in the common area while they played, though they forgot to lock the door to it. Slipped out, grabbed a van key from one of the empty stations, slipped out the back door.” Hermione said, a soft smile crawling on her face. It wasn’t the best thought-out plan, and anything could have gone wrong, but she did make it.
Had she put such good planning to her actual life…
“That’s it? Didn’t trigger any alarms, pet?” Bellatrix asked.
“Yeah, the back door. But the guards thought it was an emergency inside the hospital. Didn’t bother stopping the van that pulled away as they locked the hospital doors.” Hermione said. She looked over to the older woman, who was grinning widely.
“Couldn’t have pulled off something like that myself. You’re a real escape artist pet.” Bellatrix giggled. Hermione giggled lightly herself, amidst the self-loathing that continued to boil beneath her skin.
She truly was insane, wasn’t she? Stealing a van to jump off a bridge to end her life. Now she was taking a ride with someone who was probably going to turn her into the authorities.
“Or hopefully murder me.” Hermione thought, letting her eyes trace over the older woman with every street light that illuminated the car’s interior. She continued to run her hands over the book cover, letting her mind wander.
“But… why wait until tonight to do it? You’ve been out for over 24 hours. Surely you could have done it sooner?” Bellatrix asked. Hermione huffed once more.
“Drove pretty much all night. Ended up in the park sometime in the morning. Slept most of the day, I guess. Needed some rest, ironically enough. Could’ve got all the rest I wanted had I made it over the fence…” Hermione mused. She put the book back on the dashboard, running her arms over themselves as the car’s heat continued to warm her deathly cold body.
“Well, we can rest some when we get to my place.” Bellatrix offered. Hermione scrunched her face in confusion.
“Why would I want to rest? I just got picked up by a stranger, a beautiful stranger mind you…” Hermione began, Bellatrix blushing lightly at the compliment. “…who wants to know all about me. Bear in mind that I was prepared to fling myself off a bridge and become roadkill. And you suggest resting?”
“Rest does a lot of good for the mind. I find I make the best decisions when I’m well rested, and well-fed of course…” Bellatrix said, running a hand through her obsidian mane. She turned to look at the younger woman, those dark brown orbs practically piercing Hermione’s soul.
“I think you could go for a little something to eat. Helps the mind think clearly. I assume you haven’t eaten since you got out…” Bellatrix said, her voice tinged with sympathy.
While the younger woman wouldn’t admit that she was touched by said sympathy, a part of her felt insulted. Was she really drumming up her behavior because of a lack of eating…?
“I hate to say it, Bella, but me having a nice meal isn’t going to make me reconsider everything. I’ve been planning this for over a year. Six years, if you really think about it…” Hermione said, her mind wandering back.
The pain, the desolate feeling which she had tried to keep down this whole time, now seemed to be welling to the surface. Not tears this time, but just a sense of defeat, a sense of apathetic desolation Six years down the drain. If she were caught now, she’d probably never see the outside of solitary ever again…
“Six years? In one of those hellholes? God, I’m sorry pet.” Bellatrix said softly. She let her right leave the steering wheel, wandering over the center console and into Hermione’s left. The younger woman sighed in relief as she felt that warmth envelop her, a warmth that the car heaters couldn’t replicate.
Hermione just had so many questions about this woman. But when her hand enveloped hers, all she wanted was her presence. How could a stranger do this…?
“Don’t be, Bella. It’s not your fault I went there. The blame lies with me, and me alone. Maybe a little on others, but ultimately I was the one who sent myself there. If I wasn’t so fucked up…” Hermione trailed off, her sullen eyes lazily focusing on the road ahead. The red taillights of the car in front of them seemed to bleed into her vision as she felt yet another wave of apathy crash into her at breakneck speed. Yet through the haze, Hermione tried her best to stay in contact with Bellatrix’s warmth.
“Don’t say that, pet. You’re not fucked up, and you can’t control what illnesses you have…” Bellatrix had begun, but Hermione cut her off.
“I am fucked up, Bella. If I just took life a little more seriously growing up I might not have fucked myself over. My younger sister went through the same things I did, and she’s happily married and making six figures a year. I fucked myself over, Bella, and I deserve every bit of hate…” Hermione said, her voice betraying every mile of regret she had traveled in this life. Nothing could fix the past, and the future wasn’t anything like Hermione expected it to be, much less thought it would be. And it was all her fault…
“Pet, please stop being hard on yourself. I know telling you isn’t going to make you stop, but please, listen to me. You have an illness, a lot of people do. You don’t deserve to be hated for an illness you can’t control. If anything, others have let you down cause they’ve convinced you to hate yourself for all the bad things that have happened in your life…” Bellatrix said, tightening her grip on Hermione. The younger woman only sighed once more.
“Bella, my life isn’t something I can blame on others. Did I have a perfect family life? No, but I can’t say mom and dad are entirely responsible for what I am. If that were the case, my sister should be in my shoes too, same with my best friend. She came from a similar household. But they’re both out there, living life without a care in the world, among friends, lovers, everything! I’m down here!” Hermione practically yelled, hitting the back of her head against the car seat in frustration. Now it seemed the tears were working their way back, welling along the edges of her eyes. She tried to focus on the road ahead, to not cry in front of Bellatrix and embarrass herself for the millionth time in her life.
But the older woman only looked back to Hermione, her own eyes betraying the same, consuming sadness. Could she have…?
“We’re almost to my place. I’ll make us something to eat, then I want you to tell me everything, pet. Make me understand fully. I know exactly where you’re coming from, but I want to know it all.” Bellatrix said softly. Hermione exhaled lightly, breathing slowly as she fought to regain her composure. This woman displayed such a remarkable understanding for her, and while she had given the typical responses that she heard most of her life, Bellatrix wasn’t shying away from her.
At least not yet…
The rest of the ride was, more or less, a blur for Hermione, not unlike much of her life at this point. Bellatrix eventually turned into a fairly nice-looking neighborhood, the soft glow of the houses’ lights not unlike those of the car lights that had illuminated their ride home. Some of the homes were even decorated for Christmas, though Hermione could not say she was surprised. It was only the first week of November, and already people were losing their minds over the holiday.
Perhaps there was something special in preparing so early for Christmas, but Hermione couldn’t say that she ever knew the feeling…
The Hyundai eventually rolled to a halt in the driveway of a smaller, yet very nice-looking home. It was a single story, red brick home, complete with a white door and white outlines of the windows. Unlike some of the other homes, no decorations were put up.
“I know, pet, I’m late for the holiday…” Bellatrix began, but Hermione shook her head.
“I don’t care much for the holidays, Bella. I haven’t had a Christmas outside the hospital since I was still in school…” Hermione said, unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the door. Before she stepped out, however, she grabbed the copy of Moby Dick from the dashboard. Closing the car door, the cold night air once again rushed into her like an uncontrollable wave. The younger woman only sighed, letting her eyes trail up to the black sky above. The stars dotted the heavens as far as her eyes could see, and before them all was the moon, ever so beautiful and commanding. Hermione always loved to trace along the craters on the moon with her eyes as a child, and she found herself doing so here once more.
The night sky was so beautiful, and that was an understatement. There really was no way to describe such a phenomenon of nature that so few understood, yet so many loved and adored.
How small everything was compared to it…
“Come on pet, food and a warm hoodie await!” Bellatrix called, rounding the car and locking it before taking Hermione’s left hand into her right. That familiar warmth flooded back into Hermione, more welcome than any feeling she could bring to her mind. The older woman could clearly tell that her touch had an effect on Hermione, as she smiled lightly.
“Let’s.” Hermione said, and the two made their way to the front door. Fumbling with her keys for but a moment, Bellatrix opened the door and cut the light on.
The living room before them was simple, some black couches, a T.V. on the wall, a few Van Gough portraits and a small cat bed. Rising up from the bed was a black cat with the greenest eyes Hermione thought she had ever seen in her life. As the feline made its way over to the younger woman, Bellatrix stepped forward and headed towards the kitchen, breaking her hand away from Hermione’s. The younger woman almost pouted before the cat reached her legs.
“Hey there, kitty…” Hermione said softly, leaning down and petting the cat on its head. It purred softly, rubbing its body against her legs as her hand continued to stroke her soft, black hair.
“I see Winona likes you. She doesn’t like too many people, so count yourself lucky…” Bellatrix said, smiling before she disappeared into the kitchen. Hermione continued to pet the friendly feline as Bellatrix called out from the kitchen again.
“I’m making some lo-mein, pet. My bathroom is down the hall to the left. Wash up if you like, I imagine you don’t want to stay in those…” Bellatrix had begun before Hermione finished her sentence.
“Rags?” Hermione said, looking down on the stained, white shirt and pants that were called “clothes.” Even now, they reeked of mold and death, just like the hospital itself. Thankfully, Winona wasn’t repulsed by the smell, and simply kept purring against Hermione’s hand.
“My thoughts exactly. I’ll get you some new clothes we well. Closet next to the bathroom has some hoodies. Grab you one after you wash up and join me in the kitchen when you’re ready!” she called out. Hermione smiled briefly, before she got up and slowly made her way to the bathroom. Winona meowed and followed her, her tail swaying softly after the younger woman.
“No, no, Winona. Not in here.” Hermione said, entering the bathroom and closing the door before Winona could enter. She swore she could hear the cat meow in frustration before she walked off. Hermione only chuckled lightly before she faced herself in the mirror.
The blood on her lip was dry now. Yet besides that, nothing appeared differently than it had for the last six years. Chestnut hair, pale skin, and a bloated body she had come to hate with a passion. The medicines they forced down her throat had been meant to help her, but their only gift was a body that no lover, man or woman, would ever want. Disgusting, fat, scarred, rotten…
Pitiful.
And Hermione hated being pitied…
And she could see it now, carving along every inch of her cursed flesh, damning the very essence that defined her entire being. The sting so familiar, the warmth of the flowing blood so welcoming. Her skin not unlike paper, so easy to cut up, defile.
Destroy.
Every inch of this hollow, rotten shell…
“Pet? You almost ready?”
Hermione was ripped from her thoughts at hearing Bellatrix’s voice, her vision finally coming back into focus on the mirror.
And on the blood that ran so freely down her left arm.
Her breath hitched, and she quickly backed away from the mirror. In her right hand was a pair of scissor nail clippers, having just made another fresh mark on her pale flesh. She immediately threw the scissors into the sink, metal smacking against marble. Hermione immediately grabbed her arm, the blood now soaking her hand, and held it over the sink, trying not to stain the carpet she was standing on. She looked down briefly, sighing in content when she realized she hadn’t got any blood on the floor.
“Pet?” she heard Bellatrix call again.
“Yeah, yeah, sorry… just had to use the restroom. I’m about to wash up now!” Hermione called out. She shut her eyes tight, hoping Bellatrix wouldn’t come through the door.
“Alright, well, whenever you’re ready. Lo mein’s almost done.” the older woman said from behind the door. As Hermione heard her footsteps slowly disappear, she went to work.
Throwing open the cabinet doors below the sink, Hermione looked for a first aid kit. A slight fear had worked its way into her mind that she would not be able to find one, and that she would have to go out to the kitchen and ask Bellatrix for help stitching her wounds. She was already so kind to have picked her up, offered her a wash and made her food, to cut herself in her house and bleed all over everything…
It’d just be another fuck up in Hermione’s long list of failures and miserable outcomes…
When her eyes fell on the small, red pack, hidden behind some towels, she grabbed it quickly. Pulling it out with her right hand, being careful not to get blood on any of the towels, she went to work in setting it up, getting out gauze, cotton balls and rubbing alcohol.
With everything set up, the younger woman stripped out of her hospital clothes, throwing them to the ground and stepping into the shower. Throwing on the water, Hermione moaned as the hot water made contact with her body. She had forgotten how great this feeling was, the liberty to take a shower without some hospital lackey keeping his eye on you and grabbing you whenever your allotted time was up.
Then again, that was better than being sprayed with a hose and having only a bar of soap to wash up with. Especially when the water was colder than hell itself…
Hermione washed up as quickly as she could, savoring the variety of body washes, shampoos and conditioners that Bellatrix had at her disposal. She settled on a honey almond body wash, and strawberry scented shampoo and conditioner. The feeling of her hair, matted and unkempt from all her years using the cheap shampoos bought by the hospital, now washed by Bellatrix’s hair care products was divine. It was like washing away the stains of a life so hated.
But it wouldn’t get rid of all her stains.
Throughout the shower, Hermione tried to wash as much blood off her left arm as possible. She thankfully hadn’t cut deep enough to hit an artery, just to draw some blood. Still, she felt her arm going slightly numb, and knew she would have to get to work soon. Besides, she didn’t want Bellatrix to think any less of her for self-harming…
“Why do I care what she thinks? I’ll be dead soon anyway, once she’s heard everything…” Hermione thought bitterly. Bellatrix was a nice woman, beautiful on the inside and out.
But there was no way in hell she’d ever truly accept her. All these things she was doing for her were all temporary. Just like everything in this life…
Cutting off the water, Hermione stepped out of the shower and went to work on her left arm. Using toilet paper, Hermione dried off her arm from the water and the blood, before tossing it in the toilet and flushing. She next took the cotton balls, treated them with some rubbing alcohol, and dapped them lightly on her wounds.
She hissed lightly as the alcohol stung against her wounds, biting her lip once more. Once that was done, she threw the cotton balls in the trash can, moving other trash on top of them so Bellatrix wouldn’t see that Hermione had cleaned wounds on herself.
Finally, the young woman wrapped her arm in gauze, tightening down as hard as she could before sticking both ends down on her skin. Her wounds now treated, Hermione packed up the first aid kit and slid it back underneath the cabinet, putting the towels back in place so Bellatrix wouldn’t know she was even in there.
Taking the new few minutes to wipe up any blood she may have gotten on the floor with more toilet paper, Hermione looked back into the mirror again and sighed, eyeing the gauze wrapped around her left arm. She hadn’t had that bad of a self-harm episode since before she was institutionalized. Thankfully, however, she hadn’t caused too much of a mess. Besides, they were nothing compared to the wounds on her right arm, the deep, white scars that nearly ran to her bone in some areas…
Hermione shook her head, bringing her mind to the forefront before she could lose herself in another episode. She couldn’t stay in the bathroom cutting herself all night, even if she really wanted…
Opening the bathroom door, Hermione looked down and saw Bellatrix had set some clothes on the floor, underwear, a black long sleeve shirt and some red pajama bottoms. The younger woman put on the clothes quickly, thankful that Bellatrix had unwittingly given her clothes to hide her wounds. Grabbing her old hospital clothes, Hermione exited the bathroom and shut the door before calling out to Bellatrix.
“Bella, I’m done! What do you want me to do with my old clothes?” she asked.
“Just bring them in here! We’ll decide what to do with them!” Bellatrix called back.
“Gotcha!” Hermione called back. She looked to her left, eyeing the closet that Bellatrix had mentioned to her. Opening it up, the younger woman was greeted with a mountain of black hoodies. She chuckled at the sheer number of hoodies Bellatrix owned.
“Must be a winter lover. Like me…” the younger woman thought.
She grabbed one on the left of the closet, unfolding it to look at it. It was plain black, with only white letters spelling SHINING in the center, though the S at the beginning and G at the end were larger than the rest. Additionally, the letters were jagged in nature, leading Hermione to assume that this was a band logo of some type. She hadn’t listened to much music since she went into the hospital, another curse of being incarcerated for the crime of having a mental illness.
And somehow denying people like her music was going to help them…
Slipping on the sweater, which had a lovely lavender scent to it, Hermione closed the closet door and made her way to the kitchen. As she neared, she could smell the aroma of the lo mein that Bellatrix was making. Her mouth watered, her stomach practically screaming for food as she had not eaten in nearly two days.
Rounding the corner, Hermione saw Bellatrix sitting at a table on the left side of the kitchen. Two plates with steaming lo mein were set at the table, along with glasses of what appeared to be water. Winona was around Bellatrix’s leg, purring lightly before she spotted Hermione and quickly stalked over to her. Hermione smiled, leaning down and petting the cat on her head.
“Hey again, Winona. Cute little thing…” Hermione said softly, her hand making waves across the cat’s black fur. When the younger woman looked up, she saw Bellatrix sitting there smiling.
“I think she sees something in you…” Bellatrix said softly. She smiled at Hermione, that smile of crystal light that the younger woman could not get enough of.
Like a view of a long, lost paradise…
“I’m glad she does. I love cats.” Hermione said. She leaned up, walking over to the black wood table and setting her clothes in the chair next to her. Sitting down, Hermione took in a deep whiff, savoring the smell of the lo mein.
“It smells real good, Bella.” Hermione said. The older woman giggled lightly.
“I hope so. I really didn’t make this from scratch, pet. Just reheated some leftovers I had about two nights ago. But trust me when I say the lady who made this made it with love.” Bellatrix said. Hermione chuckled lightly.
“Bella, thank you for all this. I don’t really know what I’ve done to deserve all this, but thank you for it…” Hermione said. The older woman smiled wide, her face seemingly alight with joy.
“Pet, don’t ever think you’re a burden. You deserve all this, and more.” Bellatrix said. The two women had begun to dig in to their meals as Hermione spoke once more.
“Well, you’re right Bella, this is pretty good.” she said, her mouth half-full with food. The older woman laughed lightly again.
“Pretty good is an understatement for me, pet.” She said.
The two sat in silence for another few minutes, that hazy feeling invading Hermione’s head again. It was like a thick fog setting in, no way to avoid it. She could sit here all she wanted and talk about how great Chinese leftovers were, but that wasn’t the reason she was here. Truth be told, she really didn’t know what she was doing here. She could’ve climbed as fast as she could and jumped soon as Bellatrix let go of her.
But yet (and Hermione was truly tired of asking herself this) why didn’t she?
“Reflecting pet?” Bellatrix asked out of the blue. Hermione had slowed down on her eating, only punching at the noodles with her fork while letting her thoughts run freely in the fog of her mind.
“Perhaps.” Hermione replied, her eyes trailing back down to her food. Her fork went back to work, stabbing and trailing along the plate.
“You still haven’t told me everything.” Bellatrix noted, taking another bite of her lo mein. Hermione sighed, eyes trailing up to meet pools of dark brown. There was a love, a caring in those eyes that Hermione couldn’t quite understand. Yet it softened her heart, and she found herself inhaling deeply.
Guess it wouldn’t hurt to tell her…
“Picture this, Bella. A family of four, a father, a mother, and two daughters.” Hermione began.
“Sounds like my family. Just another daughter, that is.” Bellatrix said. Hermione furrowed her brow. Yet another similarity they had…
“My father’s an accountant, my mother an architect. We grew up very well. Three meals a day, bills paid on time, costumes at Halloween, presents at Christmas. Hell, we even went to Disney World several times in my youth.” Hermione continued, the older woman nodding at each word.
“Favorite ride there?”
“Excuse me?” Hermione asked, a bit perplexed by the question. The older woman only chuckled.
“What’s your favorite ride at Disney World? Mine was always Space Mountain, a classic. Though my sisters always hated it. My youngest, Cissy, always came off crying.” she said, smiling something forlorn. Hermione only smiled at the older woman’s reminiscence. Clearly she longed for some kind of past, some kind of time where things weren’t so broken.
Or at least didn’t appear that way…
“Uh… I guess Star Tours?” Hermione said, thinking of the first ride that popped in her head. In retrospect, she enjoyed the food more than anything at Disney World. She wasn’t exactly a “rides” kind of person, but Star Tours had a cool atmosphere and design.
And the gift shop had lots of cool stuff…
“Ah, Hollywood Studios kinda girl, right? I’ll say, Tower of Terror is another favorite of mine. Going all the way up, then that swift drop down! Oh god, I miss it! The look on Cissy’s face whenever the drop happened. Priceless!” Bellatrix cackled, the childlike wonder in her eyes practically shining. This woman really loved her sisters, that was all Hermione could think.
A much better relationship than she had with her own sister…
“I’m sorry pet, I’m interrupting you. Please, continue.” Bellatrix said, resting her head on her folded hands. Hermione sighed, the sadness once again entering her being. Reminiscing could be fun, but it always made the sadness worse whenever it returned.
“Well, all of it sounds good, right? In theory both daughters should grow up to be fine young women in our society…”
“Just because a family is economically well off pet, doesn’t meant they’re stable. Not by any means. And my family is living proof of that.” Bellatrix said.
“I know exactly what you mean, Bella. My father wasn’t exactly a kind man, yet my mother always crawled back to him after a thrashing. Always wanted to love him at his worst, when he couldn’t even give her his bare fucking minimum…” Hermione said, her voice edged with bitterness. Just thinking back to him now, the fire in his eyes, the pure terror that shot through her veins whenever he rose his voice to scream at all of them.
How that same fear turned to hatred when she reached her teenage years…
“I’m sorry your dad treated you and your family like that.” Bellatrix said, her arms reaching across the table and taking Hermione’s hands in hers. Goosebumps broke out across the younger woman’s flesh, her entire body trembling at Bellatrix’s touch. The sadness raged like a storm within her, but having her hands in this moment…
“Don’t be. My mother did nothing to bring me or my sister out of the cycle. And I fucked up plenty of times myself…”
“What do you mean by that, pet? Why do you blame yourself for so many things?” Bellatrix asked, her eyes so soft. Hermione just wanted to jump in them and disappear from existence, become lost in a sea of comfort.
“That brings me to my second point. The only way out of a situation like that, then, would be to get good grades, finish school, and either go to college or get some good-paying job. But I failed in the first point.” Hermione said, the sadness continuing to well up in her chest. She began to take slow breaths, to try and force the sadness back down.
But it wasn’t working. It kept cracking away at her very foundation…
“Not making good grades?” Bellatrix asked. Hermione only nodded, before continuing.
“Yes. You see, I liked reading a lot as a kid, but I only liked reading things I enjoyed. And things I enjoyed were science fiction, fantasy, not mathematics or science. So if I were living in some wizard world, yes, I’m sure I’d be top of every class on spellcasting and what have you. But in the real world, Bella, in the real world fucking classroom, I couldn’t do a simple equation in math.” Hermione said, leaning her head down in shame. She felt Bellatrix’s hands squeeze hers a little tighter.
“It was only school, pet. Most places as an adult don’t care what grades you made in school…” Bellatrix began, but Hermione spoke once more, sadness now evident in the tone of her voice.
“But I went to the one place where it does matter: college. And I didn’t fair any better there. If anything, I did worse. That’s when I started using alcohol and poor man’s PCP to escape my problems…”
“Poor man’s PCP?” asked Bellatrix, worry now flashing into her eyes. Hermione only chuckled lightly before continuing.
“Just what I call it. I think its actual name is DXM or something. It’s a cough medicine, they sell it in every Walgreens, and you can buy as much as you want. But you take enough of them really fast, you get a high I can’t even begin to describe. I took half a bottle of those things once, something like 50 pills, and I woke up on the side of the highway. And all I could remember was that I was dancing through some prism of color, for hours…” Hermione said, her eyes remaining locked on her plate. Her lo mein had gone cold, but her appetite had gone away by this point.
Bellatrix only squeezed her hands again, her eyes alight with sympathy as she urged the younger woman to continue…
“Well, eventually poor man’s PCP no longer helped. And I couldn’t escape the weight of everything on me. That if I failed college, which I was doing, I’d have to return to a home of two, bickering, hateful parents, the disappointment of the entire family. There really was no way out. If you can’t make a decent living, you’re basically dead in this society…” Hermione said lowly.
“How cheerfully we consign ourselves to perdition…” Bellatrix said, and Hermione rose her head up lightly.
“Yes, that we do. But we can’t escape to the sea like Ishmael. And I don’t think many of us would want to go his route anyway. So I tried the only thing left at that point. I went home after class one day, to a dormitory with two other girls who constantly gossiped about the most dry, useless information on the planet, filled the bath with water, and tried slitting my wrists.” Hermione said, her hands leaving Bellatrix’s as she slumped back in her chair.
Now, there was nothing left holding her sadness in. The tears began to slowly fall, and she whimpered ever so lightly.
“And… and… I forgot… to… to lock the damn door. Those fucking girls…” Hermione choked out, bringing her hands up to her face. She heard Bellatrix’s chair sliding back and footsteps before she felt the older woman’s arms wrap around her warmly. But this didn’t help, not like before. The melancholy was now some violent disease that was ravaging every fiber of her being. It seemed like nothing could stop such a fall…
“Pet, it’s ok. I’m here. We’re here for each other. Please stop crying, pet. I don’t want to cry either…” Bellatrix pleaded, Hermione being able to hear the older woman’s own melancholy boiling to the surface. She wanted to stop; she really did.
But she couldn’t, and it all came boiling to the surface.
The younger woman threw her own arms around Bellatrix, and both women wailed loudly as they practically melted into each other.
Cathartic
Yet so painful…
“Why did you pick me up?” Hermione asked through her tears, her burning throat, her collapsing mind.
“You already know.” Bellatrix sobbed back, clinging tighter and tighter to the younger woman.
And Hermione did know. She knew even before Bellatrix had wrapped her arms around her legs on the bridge.
She had wanted to jump too…
“Please, pet, just please, don’t leave me alone. I can’t do this anymore. You have so much beauty in you…”
“But you have so much! More so than me! You have all this around you, and you were going to…”
“Just because I have all this, doesn’t mean I’m not in any danger, pet. All of this means nothing, nothing without someone. And I’ve been so alone for so long…” Bellatrix cried. Hermione only hugged into her harder, the scent of lavender an anchor in a sea so cold and rough.
Had this woman been sent from the heavens to stop her?
An angel who wanted to die, but needed someone so human to keep her here…?
There was almost no other way Hermione could make sense of it in her mind. She had wanted to die because of how useless she was.
Bellatrix, because of how lonely she was.
Maybe…?
“Pet, just stay with me for tonight, just for tonight…” Hermione heard Bellatrix sob into her shoulder. The younger woman only gripped her tighter as she replied.
“I will, Bella, I will…”
Hours later, the two were wrapped up in bed, an old Tom and Jerry cartoon playing on the TV. Curled in her embrace, her bare flesh like velvet to the touch, Hermione leaned her head up and kissed Bellatrix on her chin. The older woman moaned in delight, before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on her lips in return.
Those soft, red lips, likes waves of ruby in her eyes…
“I’m glad you stayed with me, pet.” Bellatrix said, gazing longingly into Hermione. The younger woman sighed in satisfaction before placing another kiss on her lips.
“I’m glad I stayed for you. I’ve wanted to leave so badly for so long. But for you, I want to stay…” Hermione said softly. Bellatrix only smiled leaning her head down on top of Hermione’s as the two continued to watch the TV.
“Poor Tom, wasted his time on a girl who didn’t love him…” Hermione mused, leaning her head further into Bellatrix’s embrace. On the TV, the usually scheming cat sat on a rail track, defeated by life itself.
“Perhaps he should’ve learned to look for others who would love him.” Bellatrix said.
“Maybe. But he wasn’t as lucky as I was for finding you. I’ve only known you but for a few hours, but I’m so glad I found you.” Hermione said. Bellatrix smiled in return, grabbing Hermione’s left arm and kissing the spots where the bandages ran over her wounds.
“You won’t have to do this anymore. You have me now. You don’t have to destroy this beautiful thing…” Bellatrix said between kisses. Hermione groaned at the contact of her lips against the bandaged, tender flesh. But her words were just as sweet to her as her kisses.
The way she spoke of her love, her devotion to her…
Whatever happened now, who was to say? But for tonight, Hermione could rest. The first, actual rest she had gotten in years.
Bellatrix really had done the unimaginable. She saved a life Hermione believed wasn’t worth saving.
And that made her believe that her life maybe, just maybe, had more to it than she ever thought…